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baepsaesbae · 3 years

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Eclipse

Pairing— Day Fairy!Hoseok x Night fairy!reader

Genre— SMUT, fae au, angst, idiots to lovers

Warnings— Oral (F receiving), nipple play, explicit unprotected sex, hair pulling, both praise and slight derogatory dirty talk bc I can’t make up my mind, slight swearing

Word Count— 3.3k

Summary— The summer solstice is here and it’s time to celebrate. Your favorite part of the solstice is that you get to see Hoseok, or rather, the love of your life. It’s too bad you haven’t told him how you really felt, even though it has been centuries. Maybe this year will be different.

A/N— This fic is part of The Fabled Collab hosted by @joontopia, @kimtaehyunq, and @whipped-for-kpop-fics. Hoseok is my sunshine, so I just had to write about him! Thank you to @s0seo and @taegularities for giving me motivation to write. Lastly, huge shoutout to Eden from @thebiasrekkers for making this awesome banner for me! As always, let me know how you guys like the fic! My askbox is always open <3

Fae clans have many holidays and rituals, but solstices are by far the most celebrated. Solstices mark the pivotal event that shifts the seasonal responsibilities between the sun and moon clans. The summer and winter solstice are always the biggest events of the year, with about a week of festivities leading up to the final event.

Sweat ran down your spine as the sun beat down on you. You’ve been holding up a stupid banner for what felt like an eternity.

“Okay wait, you’re gonna hate me but I think we should put it back to where we originally had it,” Sunghoon said with furrowed brows.

“That’s it. We’ve been doing this all morning. Figure this out yourself,” you angrily threw down the banner and stormed off before Sunghoon had the chance to yell at you.

You ignored the friendly calls from other fae that were setting up decor nearby. It was way past your bedtime. Cranky and drenched in sweat, you were definitely not a happy night fairy. Heading straight to the pond, you derobed and found comfort in the cool waters that washed away your stress instantly. You gazed up at the blue sky while floating on your back. The day truly was beautiful, you couldn’t deny that. However, nighttime was better in your very much biased opinion. The dark sky littered with countless stars that glittered like diamonds was an unbeatable sight.

“Hey there sunshine!” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You dipped back into the water and turned to the source of the sound.

“Hey there, perv. Care to join me?” you beckoned.

“I wish I could, but I need to go finalize some plans for the handoff ceremony--”

“It’s the same EVERY year. C’mon Hobi, you don’t need to go,” you whined.

“I’ll meet you back here at sunset, how does that sound?” he tried to appease you.

“Midnight. I’m already exhausted, I don’t wanna wake up early,” you blew raspberries into the pond.

“That’s fair. I’ll see you then okay?” Hoseok waved before flying off.

On top of parties filled with indulgences that would blow the mind of any feeble human, Hoseok was the added bonus that made you eager for each solstice. Admittedly, you two have had some sort of flirtationship going on for the past few centuries. Your friends always teased you about how madly head over heels you were for him. As much as you wanted to believe that he loved you in the same way, something always felt off.

Hoseok always reciprocated your flirtatious advances, but it felt more like a game between friends rather than something substantial. You’ve even observed his interactions with other fairies, and it didn’t seem like he gave you any special treatment. He was simply a good friendly guy that everyone loved, but not the way that you loved him.

You were dying to know how he truly felt about you. All these years of playful banter had been fun, but they had also been simultaneously eating away at you. There’s no way he doesn’t know that you love him. At the same time, what if he thinks you’re just a good friend? You needed to know for sure, and you intended to confront him about it at midnight.

“Good evening,” you greeted Hoseok shyly as you approached the pond’s bank.

“Good day to you sunshine,” Hoseok called back as he kicked at the water.

“How’d the meeting go?” you asked.

“Boring as always. You’re right, it’s the same every year. But the elders still want to go over everything again to ensure that the ceremony is perfect,” Hoseok sighed.

“Thanks for coming to hangout with me even though you’re so busy,” you said, suddenly feeling guilty.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all day! You’re the perfect person to unwind with after a long day,” Hoseok smiled. There it was. The radiant smile you fell for the first time you ever met him.

“You sure I’m the perfect person for that? What do you do when you’re back in your own land surrounded by other day fae?” you prodded, hoping to steer the conversation onto the ‘what are we’ topic.

“I have my friends there for sure, and I appreciate them too. But it’s different with you. Maybe because I can only hangout with you twice a year. You’re like my super special friend, yaknow?” Hoseok tried to explain.

“Uh yeah, for sure. Like a special playdate kind of thing huh?” you tried to hide your hurt feelings.

“Exactly! You get it. It’s like you’re my favorite dessert that I can only have twice a year,” Hoseok nodded.

“Right…” you whispered softly to yourself. You spent the rest of the night listening to the unfruitful discussions Hoseok had during his meetings. All the excitement over the festival had drained from you. Now, you just wanted it to be over so you can go sulk in peace.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Hoseok observed, “You haven’t interjected once about how stupid our traditions are or how you’re looking forward to having long nights again.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m just tired. Sunghoon really worked me to the bone yesterday, that damn day fairy,” you faked a yawn.

“Hey, be nice! Wasn’t it you who volunteered to help us anyway?” Hoseok shook his head.

‘Yeah, because I thought I’d be able to work with you,’ you thought.

“It was a bizarre streak of altruism, that’s all,” you shrugged.

“Nah, I know you’re a kind fairy deep down!” Hoseok playfully nudged your shoulder. Normally you would welcome this type of physical affection, but for right now it served as a painful reminder that you were merely seen as a buddy.

You actively avoided Hoseok for the remainder of the week, counting down the hours to when it would finally all be over. You made up some lame excuse to not hangout with Hoseok every time he approached you. He must have caught on by the final day, either that or he was extremely busy. Afterall, he was the MC for the entire ordeal.

Apparently, your abrasive reputation preceded you because no one wanted your help with anything. As soon as they saw you coming, they would randomly find themselves very preoccupied with something that made them too busy to talk to you. The only person who would put you to work was Sunghoon, who was one of Hoseok’s best friends. You wondered why he was always so nice to you even when you complained the entire time you helped him.

“That’s the last table! They all look great, thanks for helping with the set up,” Sunghoon gave you a thumbs up.

“You know it’s pointless setting up all these tables. Most of the fairies are just gonna be dancing or fucking all night long, no one is gonna be sitting down,” you said.

“Are you gonna be one of the fairies partying?” Sunghoon inquired.

“Definitely not,” you answered curtly.

“Then I’m happy at least one of these tables will be utilized,” Sunghoon nodded, “Try to enjoy yourself tonight okay?”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

The entire forest seemed to come alive that night. The trees swayed with the enchanting music while cheers of merriment erupted around the party scene. You sat alone at a mushroom table with your third (or was it fourth?) cup of berry wine. You glared at the fairies who had lost themselves to their pleasures, whether it be the wine or the toadstools, or perhaps even both. Fairies who had given into their more lustful urges could be seen on the outskirts of the dance floor, some in the innocent stages of kissing and others entangled full fledged fornication. Scoffing at the obscene orgy, you stumbled off to get another cup of wine. Even though you weren’t really participating, you had to admit that fairies knew how to throw a party.

“Hey ___, I noticed you’ve been by yourself the whole evening. Want some company?” someone asked behind you as you filled up your mug to the brim. You turned to see two Sunghoons merge to become one hazy Sunghoon in the blink of an eye.

“F-ffuck off Sunghoon,” you slurred.

“I wanted to thank you for all the hard work you did for this year’s summer solstice,” Sunghoon continued, unfazed by your harshness, “Wanna dance to celebrate?”

“Nope,” you answered as you pushed him aside.

“Yeah she seemed pretty pissed dude,” Sunghoon said while taking a large swig.

“At you or in general?” Hoseok inquired.

“Dunno man, she’s always been like that. However, she seemed more aggravated than usual, which is hard to imagine,” Sunghoon chuckled, “Did you do something to her?”

“No! I’ve been replaying everything we talked about at the pond but everything seemed fine! I even told her that she was my super special friend and---oh shit,” Hoseok’s face fell.

“Idiot,” Sunghoon tsked.

Both fae clans had gathered by the main stage, intently listening to the same speeches that the clan leaders have spoken for centuries. You watched apathetically as the everlasting flame was being formally handed over. The crowd roared as the flame changed from a deep crimson red to an icy silver color with a blue hue, signifying that the solstice had come to pass.

If the festival wasn’t wild before, it had only gotten more out of hand after the official ceremony. Seeing the other fairies go wild in every sense of the word made you nauseous. The noise level intensified as you watched your fairy brethren engage in rather promiscuous activities. Someone even beckoned for you to join in the fun, but you just walked away. The only person you wanted to have that kind of fun with was Hoseok. It infuriated you that your thoughts always drifted to him. You filled up your cup one last time and walked away from the ruckus, towards an empty grove. Hopefully you would be able to wallow in self pity in peace there.

The stars twinkled above you, and dim moonlight speckled the ground around you as it shone through the trees. You could still hear the party, but it was much fainter now and served as nice background noise to keep you from drowning in your thoughts. With a deep exhale, you fought to hold back tears. You felt so foolish. Too many years have been wasted in vain for an unrequited love that you should have seen coming. It was so stupid of you to hold onto a sliver of hope that Hoseok would like you back.

“The party is that way,” a familiar voice called out to you.

“Then why aren’t you there?” you didn’t try to mask the annoyance in your voice.

“I saw you walk away, I wanted to check up on you.”

“Why the fuck would you even care?” you sat up and hissed.

“Why are you being so hostile? You’re the one who has been avoiding me all week!” Hoseok raised his voice.

“I’m sure you didn’t have much time to spend with me anyway,” you huffed.

“That’s not true. I spent every moment of my free time looking for you, only for you to turn me away. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Hoseok calmed down.

“Fine. I’m in love with you, okay? How fucking embarrassing. It hurt when you said that I was your super best friend or whatever. Seeing you afterward just reminded me of how dumb I am,” you couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Oh sunshine, I’m the idiot. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re my special friend because I like you too. I wanted to spend every second with you this week. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that, I’m so sorry ____,” Hoseok got down on his knees and pulled you in for a hug. You were stunned.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner then!” you pushed him off.

“I thought it was obvious from the way we flirted!” he argued.

“You’re nice to everyone, it was hard for me to tell,” you pouted.

“My apologies for not being a sourpuss like you,” Hoseok laughed.

“So...what now? It wasn’t really a romantic confession but I guess our feelings are out in the open now,” you whispered as you leaned against him.

Suddenly, Hoseok pushed you back to the ground, straddling your hips. His dark hair nearly covered his eyes as he looked down at you. He was beyond beautiful, his white iridescent wings glittered ethereally in the moonlight.

“Remember when I said you’re like a dessert I can only have twice a year? I’d like to make that a reality,” Hobi smirked. He bent over to kiss you. It was soft at first, his plush lips pressing up against yours. He gently cupped your face with one hand while the other wandered to your chest, undoing your blouse. Lust overtook the both of you as the kiss deepened and Hoseok fondled your breasts. You let out a small gasp as he played with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

“Spread those legs for me, sunshine,” he demanded.

You complied, slowly exposing yourself to him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him while in such a compromising position. Hoseok gingerly kissed a trail along your inner thighs towards your core. His hot breath against your pussy made you squirm under him in anticipation.

“So impatient,” he chuckled, “Let’s play a game. You have to make eye contact with me while I eat you out. Every time you look away, I stop.”

“You’re evil,” you huffed before reluctantly looking at the beautiful being perched between your legs.

“That’s my girl,” he purred approvingly before spreading your folds with his fingers. His eyes darkened with lust as you watched him lick tantalizingly slow stripes. He could feel your need for more, so he moved up to focus on your clit, giving it special attention as his tongue swirled around it.

You tangled your fingers into his hair, gripping him tighter as he licked your clit faster. All your composure was lost as you looked down at him with pleading eyes.

“What is it? Need more?” Hoseok teased as his fingers traced your entrance.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?” Hoseok feigned ignorance

“Please touch me,” you said softly.

“We need to work on your begging, but you’re so adorable I can’t say no,” Hobi dove back into stimulating your clit as he slipped a finger inside of you. He smirked at how easily he went in, and immediately added a second finger. The new feeling had you throwing your head back as he grazed your g-spot. Right as things began to feel good, he retracted everything.

“Hobi!” you cried out in frustration.

“You looked away. Remember the rules to our little game?” Hoseok chided. You glared down at him as he immediately picked up where he left off, not giving you time to readjust. Fighting back the urge to close your eyes, soft moans escaped from your lips.

“Ready to cum, my dear ___?” he asked sweetly as his fingers dipped to directly attack your g-spot.

There was no time to give a proper response. Your back arched and your toes curled up as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Drenched in your juices, Hoseok glistened under the moonlight.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Hoseok praised, “But I’m not finished with you yet,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

He unbuckled his trousers, releasing the monster that dangled between his legs. You willingly spread your legs for him, eager for more.

“So needy, you haven’t had enough yet?” Hoseok tsked as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds.

Finally, Hoseok began to bury himself into you. He took his time, relishing how your warm walls squeezed him. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, focusing on feeling every inch of him. Once he bottomed out, you wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to bring him impossibly closer. The dark lust that swam in his eyes broke for a second, replaced by the warm smile that made you fall in love with him in the first place. He bent down to kiss you, and you happily reciprocated.

Hoseok moved his hips slowly as he fucked you at a deep yet gentle pace. Mouths still colliding, you shyly licked at his lips. Taking your hint, Hoseok’s tongue met yours. As the kisses deepened with more saliva being interchanged, Hoseok’s thrusts became harsher.

“You’re so fucking sexy. Lemme see that ass baby,” Hoseok growled as he flipped you over.

He smacked your ass twice and watched it jiggle in awe before placing a firm grip on your hips. Almost animalistically, he bucked into you. Your body jolted forward with each thrust. You had never been fucked this hard before, and it was heavenly. Hoseok’s control over his body movement was insane. Your moans grew louder as his hips continuously rolled into you.

One of Hoseok’s hands formed a tight grip on your hair, roughly bringing your head up off the ground. You couldn’t stop your wanton moans from filling the open air.

“H-Hoseok,” you cried out.

“What is it? Is it too much for you?” Hoseok cooed in your ear as he brought your head back even closer to him.

“Mmm-no,” was all you could make out.

“I knew you could take it all, such a good slut,” Hoseok praised as he let go of your hair.

Unable to hold yourself up, you immediately fell back onto your chest. Your fingernails dug into the dirt as you could feel another orgasm swelling up inside of you.

“I’m gonna cum again,” you wailed out.

“I’m almost there, wait for me baby,” Hoseok instructed.

With perfect timing, Hoseok let out a guttural moan as he spilled his seed inside of you. Sounds of pleasure bounced around the grove as you came in unison. Hoseok’s cum dripped down the sides of your inner thighs when he pulled out.

“How did I do, sunshine?” Hoseok asked jovially as you laid on the ground before him.

“You knocked me out. I don’t think I can move for a while,” you weakly answered with a smile.

“Not a problem, we can just stay here for a while, sunshine,” Hoseok laid down beside you, beckoning for you to rest atop his chest.

“I like when you call me that,” you yawned.

“Sunshine?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, that. It makes me feel special,” you nodded.

“Is that so? I’m glad it makes you feel special, because you are. You’ve always been the spunky night fairy that everyone knows but is too afraid to approach,” Hoseok laughed.

“What! I am totally friendly! Just not to those who piss me off,” you defended, “Which...I guess is a lot of people so I suppose I see your point. What made you want to be my friend if everyone thought I’m scary?”

“You treated me like everyone else. It always felt like people put on a fake facade around me since I’m the chief’s son. They’re nice to me to try and curry favor with my father, or maybe flirt with me to try and gain some special sort of status. I don’t know. I’m just me,” Hoseok shrugged.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re my sunshine,” you hugged him.

“That makes me feel great. I’ll do my best to see you more than twice a year, okay?” he kissed your forehead.

“I guess I can clear my schedule and come over to visit you too,” you giggled, “Or maybe we can run away and make a clan of our own.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, “Don’t tempt me. I’d love to go somewhere where no one knows my name or expects anything from me.”

“How about we go to where the day meets the night?” you offered.

“Like what? An eclipse?” Hoseok said as he gazed into the night sky.

“Precisely. We can make an eclipse clan. We only have to do festivals for eclipses, and those are kinda rare,” you giggled.

“Sounds like a good dream, sunshine. Let’s seriously discuss it in the morning when we’re both more sober,” Hoseok kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight, my sunshine,” you whispered into his chest.

#bts smut #jhope smut #hoseok smut #bangtanarmynet #btscreatorscorner #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #bts fanfic #jhope fanfic #hoseok fanfic

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

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Maybe In The Next Lifetime

Reincarnated! Ivar The Boneless+Reincarnated! Reader (Modern AU)

(Previous Chapter)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I am sorry it took me so long but this is a small reward to @youbloodymadgenius,who bought me a Ko-Fi, a bit of time ago and I just am so so grateful for this small gesture because it shows that you truly care about us, writers.

It truly means the absolute world to me and I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to properly express my gratitude through words, but I do hope that you’ll like this (you gave me the green light for everything that came up to my mind, so since i saw that you all liked the first part, here comes the second).

If you want more, please do let me know through a comment or a reblog (PLEASE DON’T FUCKING REBLOG WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING... IT’S FUCKING STUPID).

Do leave some feedback if you want to: it makes us, writers, write faster and our hearts beat stronger.

Have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: Visions have accompanied your staying in Iceland, tainting your experience and making you meet the literal 'man of your dreams', but is this a crazed fever dream or is this the truth?

WORDS: 4,7 K

WARNINGS: Reincarnation Cycle, Menton of Violence and Blood, Inaccurate Portrayal of Iceland.

You changed your outfit for the umpteenth time, wondering if there was anything that would ever fit the theme of Midsomar, allowing you to show off your body, in a way that was flattering and proper.

Your friend, Hedda, had already chosen an outfit and was waiting outside of your shared bedroom at the small apartment you had rented for your staying in Iceland, singing out loud some Swedish song and refusing to give you any help with dressing up.

‘You need to find your inner “Midsomar” ‘ she had muttered after you had gotten out of your wardrobe in a bland floral dress ‘… but also you gotta impress that idiotic guy, you met, so… get out your best Maja’.

‘I don’t think that being a crazy witch in a cult will win me many points with any boy’ you had shot back, eventually completely ignoring her suggestions, trying on at first a few other dresses, and eventually settling up on an oversized white shirt in a pair of your best shorts.

The flower crown you had bought in a Chinese shop, already awaiting you in bed, and as you pushed it onto your head, the vision reappeared.

You had been having visions since the start of your staying in Iceland.

At first you had though they were simply strange dreams, created by your first holiday without your parents and far away from home.

They were different visions of different beautiful girls in clothes from different historical ages, but they all had one thing in common.

Your face.

And then when you had at first noticed Ivar, his own face had haunted your dreams.

As a king, as a slave, as a commander, in a haunt that reversed the roles.

Sometimes you’d be the prey and sometimes he’d be the hunter, and sometimes the opposite would happen.

In the mirror various figures shifted: a meek girl with a flower crown like yours, a well-dressed woman, her face hidden by a thick veil and the heavy crown on her head, again appearing in a more frail way on a woman with a spoiled smirk and expecting eyes.

But you knew that deep down they were all you.

And you were desperately trying to understand what this all truly meant.

You had eventually settled on browsing through some rather confusing pages about the interpretation of dreams, settling yourself up in the ‘reincarnation aisle’ discovering that many in forums thought that in dreams, they could see their past lives.

Or so they believed.

But in most cases, it was boring details that could be easily overlooked and most of the time they were interpreted by clairvoyants that wanted nothing more than to make their daily earn.

And you couldn’t blame them.

But your situation wasn’t a hoax.

Because there was so much confusion in your heart and mind.

And you knew it was a downright wrong thing to follow Ivar around, just because he was the literal ‘man of your dreams’.

And you knew that you would have probably ended up sounding as a crazed hysterical woman, had you confessed him that you had been dreaming about him for your entire staying in Iceland, seeing him in various outfits.

But one thing never changed also for him.

He had loved you and he had lost you.

Never the other way around.

Which you found lightly discriminatory and sexist…

… but Fate didn’t welcome any complaints, did He?

You wished you could talk about it with someone, but not only you didn’t know that well the few friends you had done around the hotel and in the city.

But also… who would have believed you?

And who wouldn’t have wanted to intern you in the nearest psych-ward, after hearing about your crazy dreams?

But this secret was burning you on the inside, completely ruining your holiday there, because you weren’t able, not only to sleep properly, but the knowledge of some previous past life was shaking your beliefs to the core.

And not in a good way.

You almost doubted the reality around you.

And more than one time you had found yourself pinching your arms in search of some signs that you hadn’t simply dreamt also this life.

“… are you fucking finished?” muttered loudly Hedda, startling and effectively reminding you that you were indeed in 2019, getting yourself ready for a Midsomar ‘date’ (because Ivar certainly hadn’t meant it that way, when you had basically invited yourself in it).

“Yeah yeah!” you shot back, slightly annoyed at her antics but eventually settling up on adjusting the flower crown on your head, as you grabbed your clutch, stuffing an extra charger for your phone and headphones in it.

And then appeared in the hallway of your room, for Hedda’s inspection, who told you to turn around, meanwhile she examined attentively your outfit, eventually holding up eight fingers, which was enough to make it pass.

‘… cute but have we forgotten the “sexy factor”?’ commented Hedda, as you were already grabbing a jeans jacket in case it ended up being colder.

You had agreed with Ivar on meeting each other for lunch and then move to a little place where a small folklore festival was to be held.

And had you had a bit of energy, you would join your friends for the night to a ‘Midsomar’ themed party, for which you weren’t too eager, but your friends had already seemed offended by the fact that you wouldn’t have passed the day with them, partying and drinking.

But you wanted the true Icelandic experience.

That was why you had moved there.

And honestly partying and drinking could be done everywhere.

Instead what Ivar had told you that he had planned that day was much more typical of the place and not something that you’d have found everywhere.

And having more time to spend with the ‘man of your dreams’ was definitely a bonus.

Hedda, who, although seemed extremely superficial, had assumed an extremely motherly and protective role over you, had wanted to accompany you, although she had used the excuse that:

‘Booze doesn’t affect me that much, anymore’ she had then winked your way ‘… and didn’t you say that Ivar has a cute brother?’.

You had barely seen Ivar’s brother, but you had felt like you had to give something to Hedda for ‘sacrificing’ herself for you.

Meanwhile you were getting out of your small apartment, making sure to lock after yourself, since Hedda always forgot, you received a message from Ivar, letting you know that they had just arrived to his uncle’s barn, sending you his location and reassuring you to take your time, since they had arrived early to help with the preparations.

You had thanked him, meanwhile you were thoroughly panicking because you didn’t want to arrive late, but to dissuade the uncomfortableness of the entire situation, you asked him ‘whether his brother was hot or not’.

Which you realized a minute after locking the door didn’t sound quite alright.

Shit.

You hoped that at least in one of the previous lives you hadn’t been this awkward.

‘.. for a friend’ you added, hoping he didn’t think you wanted to flirt with his brother.

Because you didn’t want to, for sure.

Although Destiny had indeed pushed you closer, you couldn’t deny that you had found yourself comfortable with Ivar in a way that hadn’t happened in so much with the few guys you had tried out a date with.

And it truly made you feel like this was real.

Like that was your reality.

He was clearly much shier than you were used to, but this didn’t mean that he hadn’t a sarcastically cocky side that had brought you to tears with laughter and judgement.

And it made you feel comfortable and at ease.

As if only with him you could be the true you.

And not the long line of previous reincarnations you had been.

‘… my brother does consider himself hot’ he sent you ‘… hot if you like brainless dudes who will do nothing but eat and drink’.

‘That’s Hedda’s perfect type’ you sent back, careful to avoid breaking your neck on the stairs, Hedda thankfully coming to your side to guide you meanwhile you messaged.

“I do hope that he is worth it” commented your friend, trying to sneak a small look at your conversation “… because those shoes certainly aren’t made for texting and walking”.

“His brother is hot” you were simply able to reply in the general confusion.

“Did you ask him?” shot back Hedda, facepalming as she completely stopped you from slamming your face on an unseen step “… you seriously… you better hope that that guy is in for it…”.

“Don’t make me feel worse than I am already feeling!” you protested loudly “… he is hotter than his hot brother, so do pray for me instead”.

“… you’ll need a miracle” she protested, but did make you arrive at the end of the stairs safe and sound, and then took your phone, throwing it in her bigger bag, as you complained loudly “… and no you are driving, so no phone, neither for the hot guy”.

“Always the responsible ones…” you muttered, knowing that it wasn’t the truth in the slightest “… just let me tell him that we’ll reach them in a quarter hour”.

Hedda simply sent you an annoyed look, before relenting as she got in the car you had rented for the occasion.

“… I wouldn’t have pegged you as one of those who is constantly texting her boyfriend” she muttered, lowering the car windows and you quickly typed in your message, waiting a few second for a simple ‘ok’ from Ivar.

Were you panicking?

A bit.

But you’d be fine.

Or he’d realize that you were seriously a stalker had you talked with him anymore.

And then Hedda reminded you of her as she sounded the car horn, effectively startling you away from your anxious brain.

And after all, the faster you got the car started, the faster you’d see him again.

You tried to convince yourself that wasn’t a comp6letely creepy thought.

---

You had been able not to lose yourselves on the trip to Ivar’s uncle’s barn, which had been a great way to certainly hype you up.

Hedda’s awful choice in music had done the rest.

But now you honestly didn’t want to get out of the car.

“Please don’t make me spray you with water” commented Hedda between her teeth, as she adjusted her blush and her own flower crown and you nervously curled a strand of hair between your fingers.

“… just give a minute”.

And she did, moving to lightly check some messages on her own phone, meanwhile you eased up in the place where you had parked, which was supposed to be a few minutes away from Ivar’s uncle’s barn.

In the middle of basically nowhere.

Hedda had joked about the fact that you had seriously ended up in ‘Midsomar’ and would be soon sacrificed, much to your already panicking soul, as you tried to search in yourself some willingness to meet again Ivar.

It wasn’t the simple nervousness of finally seeing the guy you had a crush on.

It was a multilayered feeling of fear and anxiety that had gone on for many years, as your lives were threaded together and separated by Fate.

And you didn’t know how to calm yourself.

In the end Hedda did spray a bit of water on your face, bringing you back from your historical thought, as you finally realized that you couldn’t let past history influence your present.

Although you didn’t know how to do that.

“Is everything alright?” asked Hedda as you moved away from the parking lot towards the small house, walking slow so that you could arrive there comfortably “… are you sure that this guy isn’t a psycho?”.

‘I am actually the psycho, with all these dreams of a past that maybe never existed between us’ you wanted to say, but simply shook your head, yawning lightly, because you had been up till late last night for your last turn at the hotel.

And you tried to keep your mind on the hotel’s turns that you’d have to restart tomorrow, to keep your mind in the present you were living.

Which worked well…

… till you arrived to the house and you found Ivar already out, helping up with setting in place what looked like a small gazebo, to protect you from the sun, meanwhile another boy set up a small plastic table under it.

And you wanted to turn and run away.

What had you been thinking when you had basically invited yourself to what looked like a reserved family ceremony?

Did you seriously think it was a good idea?

But before you could make a complete U-turn with your body, you heard your name being called out by a slight Nordic accent and as you turned around, your reality had changed inevitably.

No matter how much you tried to bring back your annoying turns at the hotel.

“… Ivar” the words left your mouth, although it felt like it had just been forced open, no matter how much you didn’t want to say those words.

His eyes smiled gently at you, as he walked to you, his clothes weren’t modern anymore, but they were an hard armor of leather, constricting him in a way that pushed his whole body to appear bigger than he was.

Relief flooded in you, as you faced him again, the knowledge of him having come back to you completely making you emotional, although you stopped yourself to wait for him to come to you again.

Your vision was disrupted by Hedda’s nails digging themselves in your upper arm, and when you batted your eyelashes, the entire set up you had imagined was gone.

Although Ivar was very much in front of you.

And looked like he had asked you something.

“I am sorry, I didn’t…” Gosh… he must have thought you were a weirdo for sure.

“… I just said that I am glad that you are finally here” his words were truly genuine as a softer smile appeared on his face “… and that you found us so easily”.

“I am a wonderful GPS” commented Hedda, noticing that you were having quite the trouble replying and more generally at talking “… I am Hedda, by the way”.

Ivar looked wary of Hedda but didn’t say anything, and his brother seemed quite taken by her appearance and he pushed himself up from the place where he had sat down, presenting himself to her.

And from the gleaming bits in Hedda’s eyes, you knew that he was hot enough.

And you were soon left with Ivar.

Gosh, could you embarrass yourself more.

Probably… yes.

You almost wanted to plead Hedda with your eyes to stay with you, but at the same time you completely understood she wasn’t your babysitter in any way.

“… so that is why you asked me if my brother was hot” simply commented Ivar, and although you blushed profusely at that knowledge, you felt like he had just shattered the wall of awkwardness between you.

“Hedda needs to have her own fun” you muttered “… mostly because she is a bitch whenever she doesn’t get enough attention”.

Ivar laughed loudly, and when you had both calmed down, you moved to ask if you could do something to help him.

And he redirected you around the gazebo to set it up, as he revealed to you that his uncle would be away for the day.

He was extremely blushy the whole time he said it, and you were a properly matching tomato.

‘… he said that he is too old to for these things” he commented softly ‘… he went fishing and will be back by nigh-time’.

‘Still it was very generous of him to offer us his place to stay’ you tried to make your words appear gentle and kind, although you couldn’t deny that you again felt a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

Two guys and two girls with a small private barn all to themselves.

Hedda would have called you a stupid not to think that this was an entire trick to get you to stay closer to Ivar.

But Ivar’s words seemed honest in what he had said.

And yet it didn’t lessen your embarrassment.

And neither your knowledge that this had happened before.

A picture perfect in your mind of a ’70-fashioned yourself, sleeping with your head against Ivar’s, meanwhile a lazy fire crackled beside you, light giggle and breathy moans from the other couple with you, who had been much more courageous than you two.

Because although you had been on the road for quite some time, you hadn’t been able to do much more than simply stand closer.

“… he hasn’t been the same since his wife died” commented Ivar, his voice lowering itself slightly and bringing you back to the reality.

Not the peaceful and nightly one you had seen in your mind.

You should have taken some medicine for these hallucinations.

And got a whole check-up once you were home.

Although you weren’t sure you wanted them to disappear.

The knowledge that you had been able to score a guy like Ivar in past lives certainly stroked your ego.

“I am sorry to hear that” you replied softly, another memory in your mind, an angry Ivar, nothing peaceful in the way he threw things all around the room and screamed, but then after all the air in his lungs had disappeared he had searched you, shielding himself in your chest, meanwhile he let out all the emotions he had been denying to feel.

“… thank you” his words were honest now as they had been there “… but on better topics, the place we are going after should be good, my brother has never played there so that is a sign of true quality”.

You laughed softly at his comment, meanwhile he kept a straight face but eventually cracked up a small smirk.

“Please don’t tell me it is this brother” you muttered, pointing to Hvitserk, who had been trying to show Hedda a magic trick, involving his abs, thing that had made Hedda very much interested.

(In the abs)

(Not the magic trick. That was pathetic).

“… she’ll make him ask to play her a song, record him and play it till she gets bored with it, and I already think her taste in music his problematic”.

Ivar laughed at your sassy comment, as you managed to finally settle up the gazebo, sitting in the grass to stare at your marvelous work.

“… no not this one” he commented, shooting you a conspiratorial look that made you laugh loudly “… another of my many brothers… Sigurd, the one that I can’t stand”.

“I thought you couldn’t stand all of them”.

But the name Sigurd brought something back to you.

Something dreadful that your subconscious tried to keep locked away and again you pinched yourself to avoid deepening up.

You had seen yourself dying in horrendous way each night.

Once you had been shot, another time an overdose had taken you and the most horrendous had been when a sword had pierced your back.

You had woken up with the feeling of it, screaming loudly as you groped your chest sure to find iron and blood in it.

But it had been just a nightmare.

And yet each time you died you had this knowledge that this had happened.

That it had been painful.

And that it hadn’t been fair.

And what was linked to the name ‘Sigurd’ seemed much worse than that.

Ivar felt the shift in you and you were grateful when he suggested he went inside and started to bring a few starters and drinks outside, since you had to admit that you were quite famished.

And so was his brother.

Hounding him almost like a dog, as you laughed softly at the image.

Having seen it thousands of times happening.

And yet it still hanged in your mind as if it was new.

Hedda took this moment to come to you, muttering about how dreamily Ivar’s brother, Hvitserk, was.

‘… and Ivar does seem to be quite taken by you…’ she commented, shooting you a knowing look ‘… and you seemed a bit taken by the gazebo, I’ll admit it’.

You pushed her away with your shoulder, although you couldn’t deny that.

And you were glad in the following moments to be able to simply think about food.

You thanked profusely Ivar when you realized that the meals he had gotten ready were some Icelandic ones that you hadn’t tried yet, mixed with some other typical dishes, and you were honestly impressed.

‘Oh, don’t worry, Hvitserk over here is the one who cooked everything’ he commented, shooting a quick look at his brother, meanwhile Hedda let out a breathy ‘oh seriously?’.

And you and Ivar laughed of those two idiots.

Again, that natural complicity sparkling up between you, as you talked with each other.

It just felt so comfortable and natural that you couldn’t help but confess him your ‘darkest’ and ‘deepest’ secrets, as he did the same of you, both laid out in the sun, after lunch, staring up at the it, barely shielding yourself from it with your hands.

You joked and you laughed.

And it almost felt like you hadn’t lost anything in your previous life.

As if nothing existed except you and him, in that moment.

But your soul was growing restless.

Almost as if it expected something bad to happen.

Because history had a tendency to repeat itself.

And your soul knew it all too well.

So, you were secretly happy when you moved into a crowd for the musical festival, glad to be able to move yourself among many people, the music completely blaring your mind in a calm state that brought you to definitely enjoy the moment.

And so, seemed Hedda.

You had also had special places, because of Ivar’s disability, standing in the front, meanwhile various bands of various musical genres moved onto stage, alternating themselves, between applauses and ‘boo’s, making you definitely feel like this was an unlike ‘Midsomar’.

But soon it got a bit too much for you and Ivar, the man almost reading your mind (which scared you, because your mind wasn’t a nice place in that moment) and you both suggested going for a round of cold drinks.

Hedda and Hvitserk carrying their orders on you, taking great advantage as you muttered softly in protest, Ivar matching your harsh glare, but you both laughed it off, moving to the small bar set up there, the crowd making it again a wonderful occasion to make small talk with Ivar.

But you couldn’t deny that every talk with him wasn’t simply ‘small talk’.

Although you knew that Hvitserk and Hedda were waiting for you to come back, you still decided to set yourself up in the deserted tables next to the small bar, since everyone was dancing in the crowd, but you were able to still enjoy the music.

Even better with nobody sweating against you.

The lady that brought you your drinks smirked softly at you and said something in Icelandic that you couldn’t quite catch but simply smirked at her, meanwhile Ivar blushed bright red.

‘What did she say?’ you asked, twirling your orange juice in its glass, meanwhile Ivar looked like he might choke on his own beer.

‘… she muttered something about… us being a cute couple’.

This time you basically spluttered the orange juice in his face.

Blushing even harder because of that.

‘… oh’ you simply were able to retort.

‘Oh, indeed’ he repeated, with some kind of bitter embarrassment to it.

And suddenly you were feeling deeply uncomfortable.

Unsure of whether you had said the right thing or not.

And the painful knowledge of your past hanging on you.

An awkward silence fell onto you heavily and you didn’t know what to say and you didn’t want to go back, because Hedda wouldn’t be much helpful since she had set her sights on Hvitserk and she’d have his number for sure, by the end of the night…

… if not something else.

In the end, Hvitserk and Hedda came looking up for you, joining you to drink, something that certainly made you feel definitely better, a bit less awkward, as you leaned on Hedda, almost shying away to her side.

And Ivar did the same with Hvitserk.

In the end you managed to eventually talk with Hvitserk, but awkwardness had again created a wall between you, two…

… a wall that had to be shredded, because Hedda had come up with a dangerous idea.

‘Why don’t you and Ivar spend the night together?’ she suggested, and again you were a tomato ‘… I mean… you could stay over there, since Hvitserk and I were thinking of partying a bit more and I know that you don’t like it. And I feel bad in making you stay alone…’

Other than the fact that she had basically invited yourself in her house, you didn’t think that it was a good idea, and told her so, insisting that Ivar’s uncle would be soon back.

‘… then you can stay for a bit and then go back’ it was obvious that both she and Hvitserk were playing matchmakers.

And you and Ivar didn’t feel like it, in the slightest.

You had already Fate pushing you up close.

That was enough.

You insisted with Hedda that you didn’t want to be of any bother to Ivar, and she insisted back that it wasn’t good to leave you coming back alone.

And although Ivar didn’t seem the type to be guilt-tripped into doing anything, he eventually agreed, although he told you that he’d have to see with his uncle if you could stay over for the night.

‘… oh no no, don’t worry!’ you tried to protest, already feeling like a useless baggage ‘… I’ll just go back before it is too late, I mean… it is still pretty sunny’.

But your mutter had gone unnoticed and after another round in the crowd, the concert had stopped, setting up a more commercial DJ sets, as you went back with Hvitserk’s car, the one to which you were gone to the concert, an hour away from the barn.

Back at the barn, the situation with Ivar hadn’t become better and another flashback had developed in your mind.

An annoying ride of carriage, because you knew that somehow Ivar was angry with you and you should have been angry with him, but at the same time you were damnably worried for him.

And you had reached out for him.

Finding the same gesture replied in the future.

And you were glad you had chosen to leave Ivar take the front seat, meanwhile you had simply reached out for Hedda’s hands, who sent you a look, as if to check whether you had inhaled some passive ‘smoke’ from the crowd of the festival.

You wished.

And when you arrived to the place you and Ivar basically were barely able to get out of the car, before Hedda and Hvitserk sprinted off, effectively leaving you stranded.

“Shit” muttered Ivar under his breath and you couldn’t have expressed better your thoughts, as you faced him, and all his previous reincarnations appeared in front of you.

A Viking warrior, a merchant, a lord.

And then you, bloodied and lost.

You shifted your head away from him, focusing it on your dirtied converse shoes.

“… if you want, we can go inside” he proposed eventually his tone settling up on a defeated tone “… nothing too much to see, but we might have beer…”.

“… have to drive” you reminded him.

“… and whatever you might want to drink with no alcohol” he commented, something almost comical in his words “… which is a sad choice, I’ll admit”.

“I am used to it” you shot back with a slight smirk “… does Hedda seem the type to be trusted behind a car wheel?”.

“You do make an excellent point”.

And then you dived inside, the small barn, being quite welcoming and quite comforting, definitely something that made you remember of home, as you noticed the small figurines draping and decorating elegantly the main hall.

Ivar saw that they had caught your eyes.

And not solely because they were beautiful.

But you had seen them in your dreams.

And then you felt like you had a heavy stone on your lungs, and you had to free yourself from it.

“Ivar, I have a thing to tell you”.

---

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#Ivar #Ivar The Boneless #Ivar Reader #Ivar x Reader #Ivar Imagine #Ivar Fic #Ivar The Boneless Fic #Ivar Lothbrock Imagine #Ivar Lothbrock Reader #Ivar Moodboard #Ivar The Boneless Moodboard #Modern! Ivar #Vikings #History Vikings #Vikings Imagine

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indiavolojones · 4 years

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what do you think the history between simeon and the sinblings is? like both parties hint at there having been a long standing friendship and theyre all on amicable terms with e/o even after the War (tm) maybaps left-on-good-terms-exes luci/simeon?? ex pet sitter / assistant /subordinate angel in training?? whatre your thoughts ?

hmmm!! I have a lot of logistics I haven’t worked through yet, but if you want to read an absolute dumpster fire of thoughts, it’s under the cut:

as it stands, I think that the only reason they’d send someone like Simeon along with a loose cannon kid like Luke is that Simeon is amazingly competent/devout. I’ve written about it before, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the Celestial Realm sent Simeon 100% with the intention of being a spy/to make sure Diavolo’s not up to any shenanigans.

(w/the added bonus of getting to see how Lucifer/the sinblings are all doing/if the Celestial Realm should be worried.)

the best way to keep their relationships intact post Celestial War would be if Simeon didn’t participate at all! like, if he was around near the beginning, but maybe he was unable to participate in the actual battle where Lucifer n the brothers fell. that way he could at least have some kind of plausible deniability in their eyes/wouldn’t be known to them as actively trying to shoot them down or be responsible for Lilith’s death lmaooo

here are my completely pulled outta my ass headcanons until someone gives me better ones lol (WARNING: IT GOT SUPER LONG LMFAO)

*additional warning, I didn’t do any prior research, this is straight up all from my dumb brain, so if it clashes w canon, whoops???

Lucifer: ALRIGHT *CRACKS KNUCKLES* I’ve expressed my headcanons before that I think Lucifer probably had a big ol Thing with Michael, and Simeon probably just knew about it. I think that Simeon had a big ol boner for Lucifer just like the rest of the Celestial Realm.

He’s obviously cautious at first because Lucifer is a demon now, and exhibits a lot more violent tendencies, but he’s mainly interested in the relationship that Lucifer has with Diavolo because the reports of Lucifer aligning with the Future King of the Devildom could potentially be a VERY BAD THING… It’s gotten a little more tense now that they’re… here. at RAD, but overall, he’s surprised to find out that Lucifer, while still an ornery old man, seems to fit in with the Devildom with ease/loosened up a little. If I’m still going by my above “Simeon is a casual spy” theory, then I think Simeon would be even more pleased!

Lucifer @ Simeon at all times is like /SUSPICIOUS STARE, even if Simeon is like, come now, Lucy. They have ex-boyfriend energy even if there was never any actual dating. Simeon is now able to tease Lucifer, unlike their time in the Celestial Realm where Lucifer had an entire tree up his ass. now it’s a more reasonable branch.

Mammon: THERE’S ANOTHER ASK ABOUT MAMMON AND SIMEON IN MY INBOX THAT I’D LIKE TO FINISH, but I love love loooove Simeon and Mammon being acquaintances. They knew each other in the Celestial Realm, again, not besties, but I don’t see Simeon being particularly close to any of the brothers except maybe Asmo. The biggest thing that makes me laugh is that I can see Simeon/Mammon talking about Lucifer in the Celestial Realm/at RAD about Simeon’s crush on Lucifer, but to Simeon’s chagrin.

Mammon @ Celestial Realm: he’s an asshole, you know.

Simeon: lovely.Mammon @ RAD after seeing Simeon meet Lucifer again: … he’s still an asshole.

Simeon: lovely.

Mammon may be one of Simeon’s favorite brothers, because despite the greed, his ardent love for his family warms Simeon’s angel heart ;~;

Levi: My own personal headcanon for Levi (and I’d really like to finish up writing my fic/meta for him) is that he was an angel in charge of guarding secret beasts at the bottom of the ocean! (and was a beast himself) So while he spent a majority of time in the human realm, it was in the ocean where he’d maybe get to like, see humanity from their boats a la little mermaid and ariel watching eric from the boat/on the shore? So spent like, 93% of his time alone, and the other 7% was reporting up to the Celestial Realm.

It was a prestigious job, an honor–but was lonely, and Levi hated it. Simeon probably sees him as someone that works in another department but also like, has no personal opinion because he’s never spoken to the other–but he has heard of Leviathan’s might, of course. Present time… Simeon is baffled by all of the brother’s changes, but he has no idea how to make the connection between the mystical sea guardian Leviathan to the otaku brother that never leaves his room? regardless of Levi’s ranking in the brothers, Levi is his least threatening/least assuming to Simeon. He can also see that Levi is kind, despite all his… strange quirks, so he likes him fine! :D

Simeon also has a reputation among the angels, so Levi probably knews of him too! There was no reason for Simeon to talk to him when they were angels, and there’s honestly no other reason for Simeon to talk to him now. It’s probably because of the exchange program trying to make them friends or something, but there’s… he’d never actually want to be friends with Levi, so that’s stupid.

(He doesn’t mind when Simeon talks to him about things, though, so it’s nice. Even if he’s sus of it.)

Satan: Since Satan was born after the fall, I feel like Simeon would know this brother the least! He’s incredibly curious to meet “Lucifer’s Wrath”, having heard many reports about this in heaven. He’s probably pleasantly surprised to see that Satan is far more charming than the initial reports of savagery from when he was first born. Simeon sees a lot of Lucifer in him, but there’s a more wild/freer nature to him than Lucifer’s iron will @ all times.

All in all, not a bad devil, but Simeon is reasonably watchful of him at all times due to his history. They get along fine in classes/they’re perfectly civil with each other! Satan probably thinks that Simeon watches him with a bit more interest than comfortable, but he also gets it. Satan wants to see Simeon get riled up though, out of scientific curiosity :3c

Asmo: This one is a BLATANT indulgent headcanon, not much canon to back it up except for that one time that Simeon said Asmo is still as beautiful as he was in heaven sflkasdkf. No idea what Asmo did before, but I’d like to imagine Simeon and Asmo were actually friends! Asmo’s beauty was widely regarded, and perhaps they would talk in passing? About Lucifer in most cases, lmao, but sometimes they’d chat.

Their distance when reunited in the Devildom is 100% Asmo being flippant about the fall, and being self conscious in front of his old friend about how much he’s changed. Asmo being torn between being upset to hear if Simeon thinks less of him for being who he is/aggressively “uncaring”. Who cares what anyone thinks of him, you know? He knows he’s beautiful. (But Simeon knew him when he was loved without being a sexual creature, and that… stings.)

Simeon thinks while Asmo has definitely picked up less than delightful personality traits, is actually… happy to see that Asmodeus still has his family around. He’s happy to see the other seems at ease, even if he doesn’t truly know the depths of Asmo’s insecurities. It’s a little offputting to have Asmo treat him flippantly/deny their past, but hey, he understands. There’s a lot of history between them, both their own and the sins of others. deep down, Simeon genuinely adores Asmo, and Asmo is CONFUSED by the fact that Simeon is trying to act like nothing’s changed when everything has! how dare he! is he mocking asmo! rude!

(somethin like that, idk)

Beel: Simeon worries about Beel’s ability to eat anything and everything as much as the next person. The gluttony is hard for him to stomach, being a holy prick and all, but Beel as a personality is obviously soft and tender, and Simeon thinks that’s sweet.

in current times, Simeon makes some great fuckin’ snacks, he loves Simeon. Simeon just seems like a pleasant dude, and Beel’s never really that interested in him past like, basic civil decency. Which is pretty funny ajskdjfas Beel’s memories of the Celestial Realm all probably revolve around his family/when Lilith was alive, so he’d distantly remember Simeon but it’s.. hard. that time is hard for him.

Belphegor: In the Celestial Realm, Beel and Belphie where honestly like… Lucifer’s kid brothers that he may have seen or interacted with a few times in passing. In present canon, Simeon is Very Aware of Belphegor. The biggest threat of the brothers at this point in time, especially after all of the murdering and timeline switches. He may not admit it, but he is keeping a Close Eye on Belphie, regardless of his sudden shift to adoring MC.

Belphie probably knew about Simeon, just because of Simeon’s rank but again, they’re… little brothers. (I’d love to see them being portrayed as a little bit older than Luke during the Celestial War? Just angsty teenagers Belphie and Beel.) Belphie has been distrustful of angels since the Celestial War, and it probably carries into present canon. Especially because Simeon watches him with a careful eye and Belphie isn’t fucking blind–but hey, he gets it too. He did plan to destroy the human realm.

I can see Belphie being the only brother to actively dislike Simeon–he’ll be civil at combined Lucifer/Diavolo threat for Lucifer’s sake, but also Belphie is a sour bitch and thinks Simeon is the snakiest one of them all. (not true, belphie, you’re projECTING!!!) obviously, this is all never spoken out loud and they all just exist near each other. cautiously.

lmfao because it would be like,

Beel: look at these sandwiches Simeon gave me!

Belphie: whatever.

LASTLY I’D LIKE TO @canonlucidia BECAUSE THEY HAVE SO MANY GOOD IDEAS, AND I’M SURE THEY COULD CONTRIBUTE SOMETHING MUCH BETTER!!!!!!

#ch: all #ch: simeon #hc #writing

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seenashwrite · 5 years

Text

Notes From Nash: Season 15, Episode 3

It's ep three, and was third try the charm? Well, we're still in that little town, which is infuriating. But don't lose hope, chickadees. There was some character arc action and some plot advancing, and just drama in general, and it moved at a decently quick clip, all of which is refreshing after last week's ass-disaster of an episode.

If I were grading this ep, all things considered (including some damn fine acting moments that elevated the material), it's an A-. (Five points were docked immediately because we were still in the little town.) But seriously, this week's writer(s) had a LOT to make up for given the aforementioned last week as well as a largely lackluster premiere, so you know what? Props to them.

We got a loose end from season past tied up, got rid of some dead weight, and then there was a thing that happened that I’m not entirely sure was necessary at this interval, but I get why it happened. Of course, we had our requisite random hamfisted “solution(s)” and still-unexplained bits that should’ve been clarified ages ago, can’t not have those, it seems. Regardless, this episode was actually fairly interesting to watch. I’m still wary about the state of the season after the first two, but this one had some spark.

Spoilers below the cut, you know the drill.

This one's in order, I was jotting stuff down as I watched. Past ep breakdowns linked at the bottom. If you’re new, hello, welcome, etc., I don’t do meta shit or reading into the symbolism of the color of a blurry wallpaper just over someone’s shoulder, I look at writing and cohesiveness and structure and flow and all that jazz. I basically just call things as I see ‘em.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

More spooky-scary still seems to be pouring from the hellpit, but at least this crypt is pretty, and Harry Potter tent-esque because the square feet inside is seemingly bigger than the outside.

Rowena appears to be outfitted in one of my grandmother's housedresses, or a coffin lining, or a 1980s prom dress, whichever you prefer, and none of them have been pressed. I'm trying to say I don't like it. They also continue to do Ruthie's makeup in such a manner that she perpetually looks approximately fifteen years older than she actually is, so in a way I'm thankful this is likely her last episode. On the other hand, I trust these writers and the people who assemble/green light the promos about as far as I can throw them, so we shall see. In any event, Ruthie is quite the good actor and I hope she gets a million gigs after all this is done.

This Sam-Dean moment with Creased Brow Sam and Gruff Voice Dean is falling so flat, not because of them, but because we're hearing The Same Damn Thing We've Already Heard. Move the plot along, please----- Oh wait here comes Belphagor once again with a solution, this time a nice little plot rescue MacGuffin! Lilith's Crook. Just gotta blow it like a horn.

Motherbitch, this is stupid.

I got a thought: make it Gabriel's horn, so it calls in all the angels who should've come back with the reverse-y switch-a-roo, and they deal with sealing the hole, but bonus! At end of ep last scene is that it's also called Gabriel back, too. I'd announce to the universe that this show needs to hire me, but, welp.

Oh look, Ketch is in a hospital gown. Oh look, I bet Ketch is about to die in that hospital gown, instead of a badass suit like it should be. It looked like DHJ accidentally spoiled via a tweet that I happened to see-----

I dodge the promo images and articles and such so I can give a view of someone who doesn't know what is coming in these things.

-----because he talked about coming back just to leave again, that it was a pleasure, whatever, and y'all will have to fill me in on that because I kinda can't believe he whiffed that hard. I'm not looking it up, is my point. Did he whiff? Actually, don't answer that, I don't care. I mean, don’t go to trouble looking into it on my account.

Hmmm. Was Ketch’s death entirely necessary? At least, right now? I dunno. Maybe. I’m 50/50 whether this, or have him be double-crossy then get killed later. In any event, well-acted by DHJ. He's quite fantastic. He is wasted in all the Hallmark dreck he's been in, I really hope he gets some good work after this. That's that. Moving on.

We're 1/4 in, and I'll give it this: we've gotten some action, some drama, but they've GOT to make up for the lack of plot progression in episode 2. Belphagor is shady as shit, which we knew, and this just got reinforced by that demon who has such a hard-on for Belphagor getting axed.

I do not mind rando badass lady hunter having lines and playing a tangentially-important role in the ep, but this means if we ever see her again, she'll likely get killed, so I'm not getting attached.

So hell is an angry vagina. SFX, are y'all okay? Is that prick whose tweets occasionally come across my feed still working there? Y'all need some hugs? I know y'all need some better budget, that all the DC shows got it, but oh well, that ship's sailed.

Well done set dec, I dig the ghoulish statues in that hallway. And hey costume design, I like the ring that dude was wearing, I would wear that in real life. It would also look great as a wrist cuff. I digress.

We know this demon is not going to succeed in killing Belphagor, so once more we have a pointless halftime cliffhanger. Also, have I mentioned I'm done with Cas being a weak puss? I'm telling you, if stuff got rewound, he should be incrementally getting his mojo back, that tracks logically. See Ep. 1 notes for what I thought should've happened for a legit "Whoa" moment.

"Do you have any idea what he is?" --- he's a poop demon. Again, see the first episode of @youtotallymadethatup /shameless plug

[sighs]

Is this show gonna end with a Jack vs. Jack battle royale? Because fuck that noise. But! Writing-wise, it's okay that ol’ Belph may become the big bad. Nash, why would you say that, you ask. Easy.

IT WILL GET US THE FUCK OUT OF THIS LITTLE TOWN

A. Ny. Thing. to get us the fuck out of this little town. I am so goddamned bored.

Cas, this is a mistake. You should leave. What are you doing. Leave. Don't fall for that. Leave. Go now. Whoosh. Okay, or glow worm and barbeque the body. That was a nice little catch of emotion by Misha at the end. Except are the demons now gonna jump into his body? Better not, we've seen that season.

Commercials! Cannot believe I've not been inundated with the adverts for the convention here in the spring, that's usually the jam. Imma go get some frozen yogurt. Highly rec strawberry with a little warmed-up Nutella. Try it, then tell me I'm crazy. I'm not. It's heavenly.

Aaaaand, we're back!

Don't look so distressed Cas, y’all were gonna burn it anyway. But this takes Jack v. Jack off the table. Hopefully this means we'll be headed back to the Empty to get some progress on that hanging thread from last season sooner rather than later. Still, I'm glad we are down a character for awhile, this character in particular was starting to work my nerves and honestly, is just dead weight. I want it back to Sam and Dean for the most part this final season with sprinklings of Cas. Everyone else is secondary.

[claps] Very excellent Ruthie and Jared. One critique: Wish there could've been some sort of line from Rowena, re: "And perhaps I'll get to see my boy again", something of that ilk.

But I want to say this, and say it emphatically:

The nonsensical spells pulled from asses must stop

The soul-catcher thing is an example of a great move because it drew upon the past, then built upon for the present. This heart and angel blood and salt shit, and then this “Oh by the way it needs my dying breath” stuff is just obvious “um um um well how about bleh” writing stumbles, and it shows. The only reason that lameness worked? Ruthie and Jared’s performances. Period. Because y’all gave them absolute garbage to work with, and they made it shine.

Hey! There's the two convention promos with one short local ad in between, followed by the same local ad again! I was beginning to think they'd forgotten!

WE ARE OUT OF THE LITTLE TOWN, I REPEAT, WE ARE OUT OF THE LITTLE TOWN

DEAN IS IN A HENLEY, I REPEAT, DEAN IS IN A HENLEY

Oof, Dean. I mean, I figured this convo would have to happen one day, it's been building, because even though his intentions are good, Cas has been involved in his fair share of shit taking left turns. Hopefully Cas is going to go seek out other angels. Also, re: Cas saying he's getting weaker - because, why? WHY. This has never been addressed in a definitive, satisfactory manner.

Right, so, like we do each time, let's check in to see if we've had any character development and/or plot progression:

Do Ketch and Rowena and Belphagor count, since they've progressed to being dead? Dunno, that's more of a finality to their overall arcs. Dean's being an asshole and Sam's being weepy and Cas is being an Eeyore, that's about par. Meh. Okay. So did the plot get advanced?

YES THANK YOU FLYING SPAGHETTI MONSTER SWEET LORD YES. But, eh... a little weaksauce. Yes, that chapter of the initial onslaught is closed, yet we know it's not over. So I feel like the ep should've ended with, after the bunker door slams, a cut to a little scene that serves as a clue about what lies ahead. I mean, ahead-ahead, season-wise. Like, twenty second blip, not even, then hard cut to black screen, then on to promo which appears to be MotW.

So that's it, really. More adept writers could've made the material of #1 and #2 into the premiere (minus several things, most specifically minus Kevin, should've saved Osric for something else down the line), then this should've been episode #2 instead of #3. Can't unring that bell, though. Let's hope we hit some speed before Buckleming comes along to run us into a ditch, then (fingers crossed) we have a few eps after that to rebound for the finale.

See you next week.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Past posts, from newest to oldest (and I sometimes do addendums if a response warrants)

Episode 2

Episode 1

#SPN Spoilers #15.03 #15x3 #SPN Season 15 #SPN S15 #SPN XV #Nash Notes #Nash Recaps #sort-of #Queueby Dooby Doo #Dad's on a blog post and #he hasn't been queued in a few days

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teddyadelberg · 5 years

Text

[ giancarlo commare, twenty-one, cis-male, he/him ] ━ hey, I just saw [ sebastian 'bash' monroe ] walking down the streets of crownsville. they’ve lived in town for [ twenty-one years ], and you can catch them around town working as a [ student ]. I hear they’re known to be [ passionate & talented ] and [ reckless & impulsive ]. if asked, they would say their aesthetic would be [ fingers that grace the keys of a piano, bruised knuckles, reckless antics ]

TW: Abuse

FINALLY POSTING an intro for my dude. I’m gonna try to get one up for Hadley later but LIKE THIS IF YOU’D LIKE TO PLOT and I’ll message you.

For as long as he could remember, it’s unfortunately always been him and his father. His mom died while giving birth to Bash and his Dad has never ever forgiven him for it.

His father is abusive though he hides it well because…he’s the town’s most critically acclaimed lawyer. Both physically, emotionally and verbally. Since he’s been dealing with it his entire life, he’s sort of accepted it as something that he deserves so he doesn’t really fight it. After all, if it weren’t for him his mother would still be alive. And his father isn’t hurting anyone other than him so Bash has never…really seen the problem. A complete victim’s mindset.

So due to this he thinks he’s a worthless piece of shit that won’t amount to anything and who doesn’t deserve love or happiness. As his father constantly reminds him, he’s just a burden on the world and all around him, feeding to the country’s overpopulation. He was the biggest mistake of his Dad’s life.

Even though Sebastian is a MAN now, a whole 21 years, he hasn’t gravitated away from his Dad. Again, he thinks he deserves it and he believes he needs his father. He has convinced him that he wouldn’t survive a minute in the world without him. Bash is just…delusional and as much as he hates his Dad, he grossly respects and values his opinion. After all he doesn’t know better and doesn’t know anything more.

His father shielded him from a normal childhood too. He was homeschooled and had very few school friends. It wasn’t until college where he was suddenly thrust into the social scene and let’s just say he hasn’t…adjusted well.

On the frequent occasions where his father beats him to where it’s visible, Bash will usually go to a bar and elicit a fight to get more flesh wounds apparent so that he has an alibi. So basically everyone in Crownsville just thinks he’s a drunken troublemaker who gets into a shit ton of fights. Which like…isn’t wrong. He is drunk or high 99% of the time and he’s getting into fights.

BUT IDK maybe people in town definitely suspect and he’s not as good at hiding it as he thinks...

At least when he gets hit, he feels something. Whereas he’s gotten so good at numbing and shoving down any sort of feelings. Shout out to liquor!

He’s always loved music, it’s his sole happy place and when his fingers are gracing that of a piano it’s like…he’s transported away from the bullshit. As lame as it sounds, he feels like his piano is his only and last connection to his Mom. She used to play and when he plays, he feels like he’s playing for her and to her like…spiritually. He can feel her when he’s writing, composing and playing. She gives him the music and he puts it to paper.

Also gay af.

ALSO DO NOT CALL HIM SEBASTIAN. it’s a massive fucking trigger for him! it’s what his dad always calls him before he’s about to beat the shit out of him. i mean you can but he won’t react great.

PERSONALITY WISE:

He’s a sarcastic asshole who tries to act all tough but who is severely craving human intimacy and companionship. When people start to get close and he starts to trust them, he panics, literal panic attacks that cause him to just snap and do everything he can to push that person FAR away and out of his life. He’s really smart but he doesn’t think so which means he doesn’t apply himself. Doesn’t really trust anyone. Will party and sometimes when he’s really high he’ll like…relax and cut loose and be real with people but then the next day he’ll deny it ever happened.

PLOTS:

In simple terms: FWB, Exes that he probably cheated on or pushed away, Someone that maybe knows his Dad is a creep and is protective, offers him a safe haven, Hook ups, Friends, Study buddies, party buddies, smoking buddies, reckless shithead buddies etc.

MORE DETAILED PLOTS:

ROMANTIC/PHYSICAL:

[ current | fwb ] muse a and muse b met through mutual friends and quickly hit it off as friends. offhandedly one day, muse a mentioned something one day that muse b quickly turned sexual. they locked eyes and the next minute they were in a room, locked away, undressing each other. after exiting the room, the two agreed that it would never happen again…until a few days later, when it did. they keep saying they won’t come back for more.

[ current | just do it already ] muse a and muse b have been in love with each other for like, ever. neither of them are willing to admit it though, even to themselves. their friends are constantly joking about it and they both wave it off – but when one isn’t looking, anyone could see the adoration in the other’s face with ease.

[ past | dating ] muse a and muse b were the kind of people that immediately rejected each other, going to other people instead. then muse a found themselves in a room with their ex and pulled muse b aside to ask them to fake being their significant other for the night. over the next few hours, their fake date became a real one and soon things progressed into a relationship.

[ previous | friends…i guess? ] muse a and muse b were friends prior to their spontaneous hook-up and their world turned upside down. dazed, they decided to start dating that moment and to their credit, tried to make it work for a few weeks. muse a finally ( and nervously ) let out that they weren’t feeling it. to their relief, muse b admitted they were feeling the same. they decided to stay friends, but now have the added “i’ve seen you naked” awkwardness.

[ previous/current | on again, off again ] muse a and muse b love each other, but their relationship is toxic so they are constantly on and off. they always get along as friends, but the second they became lovers something always changes. they care a lot about each other, but something always goes awry.

[ your choice | hook up ] muse a recently broke up with their significant other, and in their post-breakup state got some revenge by hooking up with their ex’s best friend, muse b. neither expected the night to be so…memorable. your choice on what they do about it.

PLATONIC:

[ positive | two way street ] muse a and muse b frequent the same coffee shop and often made casual hellos to each other until the coffee shop raised their prices. muse a went to order their usual drink and lifted their eyes in surprise at the new price, hand helplessly prepared to hand over exact change. muse b quickly swooped in and saved the day, buying both of their coffees. next time they were both in the shop, muse a paid for muse b’s drink. they flip who pays each time as some sort of game now, but they’ve only had minor conversation as one or the other always seems to be in a rush.

[ positive | friends ] when muse a moved in, they didn’t expect to see muse b climbing up/standing on the fire escape right outside their living room window. they went to confront muse b and scared them, making both fear for the life of muse b for a moment. apologetic, muse a invited muse b in and the two connected almost immediately. ( muse b may or may not have explained their presence on the fire escape during this conversation // reason could have been that they knew who lived in muse a’s apartment before but didn’t know that they moved )

[ current | platonic or romantic ] *tw: alcohol. muse a and muse b met at a bar. throughout the night, muse b got more and more inebriated. being the good ( or bad ) samaritan they are, muse a decides to take muse b back to their house before they end up on the floor. when they arrive at muse a’s building/house, muse b ( loudly ) asks muse a how the heck ! muse a knew where they lived. turns out – they live a mere few floors/doors/houses away from each other.

[ current | platonic ] muse a is an extrovert – so much so that when muse b started moving in, they didn’t even wait for the moving truck to pull away before introducing themselves. in fact, muse a even started helping unload the truck without being asked. ( BONUS: muse b was super grateful for the help and their relationship is great // muse b is Grumpy™ and was annoyed that muse a started helping without asking and their relationship is tense. )

#crownsvilleintro

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crowned-ladybug · 5 years

Text

Windowsill Hyacinths

And the other OC thing! Bc i promised

When is my writing not, but still, this one is just entirely self-indulgent. Writing’s fun!

OC blog is @menagerie-of-morons

Characters: Jackie, Marvin

Setting: main verse

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: periods (the unpleasant biology kind, punctuation is kind of a given I think)

These are OCs, please keep that in mind and respect it.

Neither of them are morning people. Thank goodness, otherwise Marvin doesn’t know how he could tolerate this living arrangement. But usually Jackie is still up before he is, and even though it’s only been two weeks since they moved in together, Marvin is already pleasantly used to waking up to the shower running.

Except this time he woke on his own, which is lovely for a Saturday actually. But it’s also weird, because it’s a break in an unsaid routine, and broken routine makes him anxious.

He hesitates at the door of Jackie’s room before he knocks, hoping it’s quiet enough that it doesn’t wake him if he’s just sleeping in (and Jackie either sleeps like a bear during winter or lighter than store-brand tissue paper, there’s no in-between, so his chances are still better than none at least). There’s a moment or two of silence before he gets a response – a long groan, unclear whether distressed or just too lazy to talk.

“You okay, my dude?” Marvin smiles, hoping the answer will be along the lines of ‘I just woke up and it’s too early and how dare does the Sun exist’. Instead what he gets is the most noncommital and obviously fake ‘I’m fine’ he’s ever heard in his life. “Can I come in?”

To little surprise and much more relief, he’s granted permission.

He finds Jackie curled up in his bed, forming an amorphous pile with his sheets and pillows and plushies, his disastrous bedhead and barely-open eyes just about poking out from under. He mumbles a ‘hey’ when Marvin enters, though it comes out barely audible thanks to the duvet he doesn’t bother to pull away from in front of his face.

“What’s wrong?”

Jackie just sinks deeper into his pillow and closes his eyes fully. For a moment Marvin thinks the little groan he lets out will be the only response he gets, but then he finally speaks. “Uterus bad.”

“Oh, damn,” Marvin sighs, and he finally shuts the door behind himself and makes his way over to the bed. Looks like poor Jackie’s period is hitting bad again, and it’s not surprising considering all the stress of moving just two weeks prior, but it still sucks. “Can I sit?”

Jackie just nods, and so Marvin picks up the stuffed sheep he finds fallen off the bed, and sits. Jackie fishes out one of his hands from under his mess of sheets and makes grabby hands at Marvin until he receives said sheep, and he hugs it, tucking it under his chin.

“Do you need anything.”

“A different set of reproductive organs, please...” he groans again, because that seems to be one of three things he can reliable do right now, but there’s finally some humour to his tone at least.

Marvin grins, and he’s pretty sure Jackie smiles back, though it’s hard to tell with so much in the way. “I don’t think they sell those at the grocery store.”

“Damn.”

Marvin gives a sympathetic hum and he reaches out to rub his poor, suffering friend’s shoulder. Jackie closes his eyes for a moment.

“Is there anything else you’d like then?”

“Hmm...” he opens his eyes again, and adjusts himself so that his face is less in the pillow now and more turned towards Marvin, for the sake of a better conversation experience. “I don’t know...painkillers, maybe?”

In the end that list grows to painkillers, the heating pad, a nice, warm drink and some snacks, and while he’s at it, Marvin checks if they’ve got enough pads too. Just because they moved in weeks ago, it doesn’t mean Jackie couldn’t have forgotten to bring enough in the first place.

And he’s so right. He scribbles it on the shopping list during his pass in the kitchen.

As a bonus reward from his fetch quests, he also gives Jackie a gentle lecture on how he needs to learn to ask for what he needs instead of downplaying the list to a single, easy-to-get item. It’s good that this isn’t the first period Marvin’s ever seen, but he’d very much prefer to just ask Jackie what he needs than guess it. Jackie looks sufficiently sorry, and Marvin reassures him that it’s okay, it’s just a work in progress (because the last thing he wants is to screw with the poor guy’s already messy emotions), and in the end Jackie ends up adding a new element to his list of current needs – a hug.

He’s granted that, in a kind of roundabout way, when Marvin lies down next to him (because the painkillers have yet to work their magic, and so Jackie doesn’t want to do anything but lie curled around the hot pad) and they cuddle for a while, a little clumsy and complicated, because there’s so many things on the bed to be mindful of now. But Jackie gets his craved physical affection, and he sinks back into a pleasant, half-asleep state as the pain starts to lessen, comfortable in the warmth of the hot pad and the way Marvin’s fingers slide through his hair in an imperfect rhythm. He listens to the in-depth discussions his friend has with some of his plushies, words fading in and out of the edges of his consciousness.

Marvin is grateful as all fuck for Saturdays, because that means neither of them have things to do and places to be. Jackie can stay in bed and eat comfort food as much as he wants, and Marvin can hang out with him and make sure he’s okay and also do the shopping before he forgets.

He eventually gets around to doing the latter too, traversing the thankfully not insanely crowded isles of the supermarket. He’s having a good leg day, so he only brought one crutch, and even that’s sitting in the cart now. He can hold his weight just fine for now and lean on the cart for a few moments if he can’t.

He gets regular, boring kind of groceries, like milk and bread and spices, because there’s always ones running out. Then he heads for the isle that holds sweets, most importantly chocolate-based sweets, and this time it’s not for his own pleasure. He ends up with three different kinds of chocolate piled into the cart after long, careful examination and consideration of all options. Jackie definitely deserves to treat himself to some good sweets.

He skids to a stop (fairly literally, because what sort of person would he be if he didn’t skate with the cart from time to time) at the end of the isle when he notices a selection of jars and bottles with carefully layered various powders and chocolate chips in them. He grins. Jackie loves baking, he’d surely love these funky little “cookie recipe in a bottle” thingies too. He sifts through the selection until he finds one with a nice recipe that doesn’t have pink bows, people in skirts and the last century’s ideal housewife on them, and piles it on top of the chocolate.

Pads are probably the toughest to get from the whole list. Not because he feels shame and a threat to his masculinity looking at period products, because he’s way past his “utter dumbass” phase in this regard, and if he feared for his masculinity so much, he wouldn’t wear skirts half as often. No, it’s because the one very important detail he managed to forget to jot down is the brand and make of the damn things. So now he’s faced with a whole wall of pads and racking his brain for what they looked like when he saw Jackie stash them in their own little box in the bathroom two weeks ago.

Except they all look the same – pink for day, dark blue for night – and the only differences he can spot in this visually uninteresting display are the brand names and prices.

He’d go for cheapest, but – really? It’d make sense, except who knows which of these things is actually comfortable and, like, good at its job? The price surely doesn’t. And Jackie wears boxers, do these things even work with those?

He’s pulled out of his thoughts for a moment when another person – long hair, dress, delicate make-up, all in all feminine-looking – enters the isle and gives him a look that’s...friendly? Friendly people in a supermarket, would you look at that! They’re probably pleasantly surprised by seeing someone on the more masculine end of the scale shopping for these things.

Finally, he admits his defeat and pulls out his phone to text Jackie.

But at least he gets the needed information quickly, and Jackie is sympathetic about him not remembering (“These things all look the same...” “I know, right?!”) and shoves two night and two day packs into the cart, because the particular brand is on sale anyway.

He gets off the bus a stop early to walk the rest of the way, the bag of groceries floating by his side with his magic. The weather isn’t nice just yet, and the wind that whips around him sometimes is cutting, but he enjoys a little walk. More importantly, he’s very much aware that there’s a flower shop on the way.

He stops in front of the shop, appreciating the stock through the window as he pulls out his phone, opting to call instead of text this time. He hates to ruin the surprise, but…

“Hey, did you get lost in the supermarket or something?” Jackie laughs into the speaker as soon as he picks up. It’s nice to hear that he’s feeling better now.

Marvin snorts. “Shut up. I wanted to ask how you dysphoria is doing today?”

“Pretty okay, surprisingly,” there’s rusting from the other end, Jackie adjusting his position wherever he is. “Hasn’t been bitching much yet.”

“Nice!” it is nice. He’ll definitely celebrate that. “Would it get ticked off by flowers, though?”

There’s a beat of silence as Jackie processes the unexpected question. “No, I don’t think it would. I love flowers, I’ve gotten over most of the social bullshit around them already,” he stops, then his tone shifts. “Marvin, what are you-”

“Shh, you heard nothing from me! I just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t end up making you feel worse on accident.”

Jackie refuses to hush just yet though. “Dude, I swear, if you’re buying me flowers just because my organs are back on their bullshit, I’m-”

“Listen,” Marvin cuts in, and he’s rewarded by silence immediately. “It’s my money and I can spend it however I want, so shh. As I said, you heard nothing from me,” he waits for that huff of breath that signals defeat, and laughs when he gets it. “I’ll be home soon!”

Jackie calls him an idiot as the call ends, his voice so full of fondness, and Marvin stays standing in front of the shop and just smiling to himself for another moment before he enters.

“’Elloooooo...” Marvin calls as he shuts the front door behind himself, and he hears Jackie’s goofy ‘’Allo!’ in response from somewhere. First thing’s first he calls his other crutch to himself, because his legs are tired now and he needs it, just in case, and floats his bag over into the kitchen.

He doesn’t even get to start unpacking before Jackie enters after him, perfectly upright and seemingly much more comfortable in his skin than only hours ago. He’s wrapped in a bathrobe and his hair is still dripping slightly, and he must have forgotten his glasses somewhere. Marvin already expects a wild hunt to find them again in like five minutes. But he looks good, in his lanky, dorky kind of way, and Marvin is so glad the day is going a little better for him now.

Marvin grins as he fishes out the potted hyacinth he’s bought from the bag. “Look! I brought you a new friend!”

Jackie stares for a moment too long, and his forehead gets a little scrunched up, and he’s still wearing that dorky, goofy smile on his face...and by now Marvin knows to translate that expression to “Jackie just got emotional as fuck.” He has just about half a moment to put the plant back down safely before he’s tugged forward and wrapped up in Jackie’s arms. He leans into it, and his crutches stay hovering where he let go of them. He makes sure to keep his grip on Jackie cautious, because it’s rude to squeeze someone around the middle when their organs are being disrespectful.

Jackie does squeeze him though, and it’s nice. He sounds a little choked up when he says: “Thank you.”

“Dude, it’s just a flower...”

“No, it’s,” he shakes his head, and Marvin can feel it, because it nudges closer to his. “You know I don’t just mean the flower.”

Marvin takes a moment to respond, as he presses his face into Jackie’s shoulder until he can’t breather properly. He adjusts his head, leaves his cheek resting there anyway, and he doesn’t stop smiling. “I know,” he takes a short pause and risks a very gentle squeeze. Jackie doesn’t wince. “Still, you don’t need to thank me.”

“Nope,” Jackie’s tone switches to something less deeply emotional and more dorky again, and he raises his head, though still makes no move to end the hug. He shakes his head and laughs. “Nope, we’re not doing this argument again.”

Marvin just laughs along, and shoves his face back into his best friend’s shoulder again.

#original art #original writing #original character #writing #hhhhhhhh titles #oc: jackie #oc: marvin #guess which tireed dumbass tagged this with the ship tag even tho they arent together in this yet

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louthegreatfurrry · 6 years

Text

Hidden Claws pt.1

self-indulgent fic? me? way more fucking likely than you think

“I swear to God, if you take a shit right here in the middle of the path – ”

Despite knowing very well that dogs are unable to smile, Lou could’ve sworn that Balder grinned at them as he began to do just what they’d told him not to.

“Oh, come on,” Lou muttered, yanking at his leash and pulling him off the path. “Just – here, come now – find a bush or something.” They flapped their hand at him with a mild scowl. “Done? Good, let’s go.”

They turned to walk back to the path, expecting Balder to follow, but he only yanked hard at the leash in the opposite direction. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Lou muttered, “what is it now?” They stomped over to him, only to freeze in surprise.

Someone was lying on the ground a few feet over, motionless and silent.

“Uhm,” Lou said. “Hello?” The person stirred and raised their head, and Lou breathed a sigh of relief. Imagine finding a dead body in the forest – horrifying. “Are you alright?” they asked, for people don’t usually lie around in the forest on a common Friday evening.

He – for it was a he, by the looks of it – blinked at her. Then his eyes widened and he sat up abruptly, climbing to his feet with only a sliver of hesitation. “Ah, yes, hi,” he said, “I’m, uh, fine. Thanks.”

Lou blinked. He was dressed like Claus – and with striking familiarity, too, he even remembered the cape. Where on Earth had he gotten those clothes? They’d looked everywhere for them –

“Oh, okay,” they said. “Uhm, good.” They shifted their weight nervously; the conversation was logically done, but if he was a fan they wanted to get to know him better. “What are you doing in the forest?”

The guy – who, they now realized, they’d never seen before – grinned. “I could say the same to you,” he offered.

“I’m walking my dog,” Lou replied, nodding at Balder, who was rustling through the bushes a few feet away.

The guy paled visibly, stepping a bit away from the two of them. “Right,” he said, his voice rising, “your dog, of course.”

Lou winced. “Sorry, are you afraid of dogs?” They didn’t wait for his answer, instead reeling Balder in and placing one foot on each side of him, locking him in place with their knees. “Sit, Balder, you idiot.”

“I – suppose you could say so, yes,” the guy muttered.

Nodding in sympathy, Lou tightened Balder’s leash further, making sure that it wouldn’t accidentally snap open. “Are you new here?” they asked, curious for who he was and if they’d see him around. “I haven’t seen you before – you don’t go to LUS, do you?”

He blinked, then squinted at them. “I certainly don’t.”

“VGS, then?”

He slowly shook his head.

“What, really? How old are you?” He didn’t look that much older than them, but he could be four years younger – they knew several people who went to seventh grade but looked like they could’ve gone to ninth.

Now he looked relieved, and the answer came easily. “20.”

Lou blinked, then grew a bit nervous. “No, really?” they asked. “You’ve prolly heard this a lot, but you look way younger.”

“I do?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “How old do I look?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lou said, tilting their head this way and that. “Maybe seventeen?”

“Huh,” he voiced, glancing down at the back of his hands before turning them palms up. When he looked up at her again he’d lost some of the uncertainness in his expression. “How old are you, then?”

“Fourteen,” Lou replied. “Turning fifteen this November.”

He nodded, then seemed to hesitate. “And uh, which month is it now?”

Lou barked a laugh. “Oh, heck if I know. September, maybe?” They shrugged; they hadn’t been writing in their book for ages – they barely knew which year it was. “Hey, I didn’t get your name in all of that,” they realized.

He smiled the first smile since this conversation had began, and said, “I’m Claus. Claus Climbermouse.”

Snorting, Lou shook her head. “Right, of course you are, my bad. Well, ‘Claus’ – ” Here they made quotation marks in the air – “I’m Lou. Nice to meet you.” They took a step closer and held out their hand; always a bonus to be polite.

He blinked down at it, at first, then slowly reached for it with his own.

Lou very carefully didn’t comment that it was the worst handshake they’d ever had with anyone, including their baby cousins.

“So, uh,” they said, fishing for more questions they could ask without being creepy, “do you live around here?”

“Ah,” he said. “That is. An excellent question.”

And first now did Lou grow nervous, realizing that this dude hadn’t answered any of her questions except for his age. Suddenly they were very glad for Balder; if this guy really was scared of dogs he wouldn’t try anything funny. After all, he didn’t know that Balder was a little wimp. “Look, whoever you are,” they said, taking a step backward and releasing Balder from their leg-lock, “I’m going to go now. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

They turned to walk away, but he called a choked, “wait!” after them, and they stopped to give him an exasperated look over their shoulder. He offered them a nervous grin, then asked, “where am I?”

He hadn’t answered their questions, and now he didn’t know where he was? “Do you have amnesia or something?” they asked, turning fully around again, raising one uncertain eyebrow.

“No – no,” he hurried to say, “I know who I am, I just – don’t know how I got here.”

“Right,” Lou said. “And who are you?”

“I told you, I’m Claus Climbermouse.”

Rubbing their temple, Lou muttered, “Look, this really isn’t funny, okay? Stop kidding around or I’m leaving.”

“Kidding – kidding around?” he stuttered, eyes going wide. “What do you mean, ‘kidding around’?”

“Well, obviously you’re not Claus,” Lou said, crossing their arms with a tired sigh, “and you’re not telling me who you actually are, so I can’t take you seriously.”

He flailed a bit, gesturing with his hands while he scrunched his face up in confusion. “Not – not Claus, but of course I’m Claus, why wouldn’t I be Claus, who else would I be? Morten?” He barked a laugh that sounded extremely nervous. “Marvin?”

Lou rolled their eyes at the drama. “Well, you’re a good actor, I’ll give you that. But drop the act, of course you’re not Claus.”

“Of course – and why not?”

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ, mate,” Lou exclaimed, “Claus is a bloody mouse, and a fictional character on top of that, how the fuck do you expect him to get from the Huckybucky Forest to here?”

“I don’t know!” he cried, throwing his hands into the air. “I was hoping you could tell me!” Then he blinked, lowering his hands and giving Lou a hesitant look. “Wait. Fictional character?”

“Uhm, yeah, duh,” Lou said.

But they weren’t fully there; things weren’t adding up in their mind. The emotion on his face was – just a tad too real to be acting – and showing up out of nowhere –

and now that they thought about it, didn’t he look like how they’d imagined a human Claus to be?

Lost in their thoughts they loosened their grip on Balder’s leash, and the dog, sensing his extended freedom, bolted.

The guy who might very well be Claus Climbermouse himself yelped, staggered back from them, stumbled on a loose rock and fell to the forest floor.

Hissing through clenched teeth, Lou hurried to lock Balder’s leash again, reeling him in while scolding him beneath their breath. “Sorry,” they said, instinctively, because of course Claus would fear dogs –

He groaned, then threw an arm over his face, successfully covering his eyes. “Just leave me here to rot,” he said, “the other animals can just come eat me for all I care, there’s nothing left for me to live for anyway.”

In a flicker Lou remembered the short movie that had its roots in canon, where Claus smashed his guitar and acted like his very life had been torn apart.

Slowly they walked over to him, crouching beside him and feeling strangely detached. “…Claus?” they asked uncertainly.

“What?” he grumbled, not moving his arm from his face.

Lou sat down.

“What,” they whispered, their lips going numb, “what are you doing here?” They couldn’t fucking deal with shit like this; what’s the protocol, what the heck do you do? They’re the responsible one in this situation, it’s not like Claus would know how to take care of himself 60 years into the future and also in an alternative universe –

“I don’t know,” actual Claus fucking Climbermouse replied, words muffled by his sleeve. “Do you believe me now?”

Lou nodded dumbly, then realized he couldn’t see it, and said, “I – yeah, I, I do.”

“What did you mean,” Claus asked, moving his arm to give them a dull look, “when you said fictional character?”

“Uuuh,” Lou said. “Well. That’s. Uhm.” They scratched their neck. “Well, see, 60 years ago there was this man who wrote a book called – well, it was called Claus Climbermouse and the other animals in the forest of Huckybucky.”

Claus blinked at them, before pushing himself up on his elbows. “What?” he asked. “Wait, what?”

“It was first read aloud over the radio,” Lou continued, “but it was published as a book for the first time in 1953. It’s – 2018 now, by the way.” He blinked again, eyes going very wide. “It was rewritten and illustrated anew by 1978, and two years ago, in 2016, the story – your story – was made into a movie.”

He couldn’t be lying; the shock shone in his eyes, and while people can pull masks over their expressions so it looks genuine, one cannot do the same with ones eyes.

Lou drew a deep breath. “I am most likely one of your greatest fans,” they whispered. “And I’ll do anything to get you back.”

The Huckybucky Forest had been in a state of confusion and mild panic ever since Claus disappeared. It had taken them a few days to notice – it wasn’t unusual that someone would go missing for a few days before showing up again, especially among the younger animals. When they’d all realized he wasn’t just hiding around a corner, waiting to pop out to laugh at them, they began to worry; and despite Marvin’s continued insistence that he’s got nothing to do with this, not everyone believes him.

Father Bear calls in to a meeting by the tree a mere day after they’d realized Claus was gone. “As you all know,” he began, the gathered animals quieting down, “our very own Claus has gone missing.” A few agreeing mutters rose among the audience. “No one has heard from him?” He was fishing for information – no one had heard, and they all knew it. Sighing, Father Bear swept his gaze over them all. “Very well, then. What do we do now? Does anyone have any ideas?”

There was a pause as the animals looked at each other with varying degrees of hesitancy on their faces.

“We need to find him,” Morten spoke up. Everyone turned to look at him, and he shifted uncomfortably beneath the weight of their judging – but he held his ground, Grandmother Woodmouse determined beside him.

“Of course,” Father Bear nodded. “But how do we do that, when we don’t know where he’s gone, or why he’s gone there?”

“We’ll just need to search,” Marvin said, and now it was his turn to be scrutinized by the other inhabitants of the forest. But he didn’t look at them, only staring staunchly at Father Bear with a solemn expression.

Before Father Bear could answer, Pa Squirrel piped up with, “You’re not searching for anyone.” The crowd shuffled a bit, some of them nodding along to that.

“Yeah?” Marvin said, turning to give Pa Squirrel a scowl. “And why is that?”

“You just want to eat him,” Pa Squirrel replied, paws on his hips and steel in his gaze. “If you haven’t already, that is.”

There was a tense moment where Marvin just stared at him. If one looked close enough, and if one knew him well enough, one might’ve seen the frustration in his eyes and the tightness around his mouth – but none of the animals wanted to look closer than they already did, and so they only saw him turning back to Father Bear with a flat expression. “Fine,” he said. “You search, then.” And he didn’t mention the fact that searching would be fruitless; he’d found Claus’ scent hours ago, and there would be no point in trying to find him.

It had disappeared just as abruptly as him.

“Is this really necessary?” Claus asked, grimacing at the heap of clothes and blankets Lou had provided. He picked up one at random – a hoodie, it seemed, but baggier than the ones he’d seen anyone wear, ever.

“Ha,” Lou said, flinging a blanket over his head. “You’re lucky we’re the same size. You don’t have fur now, and humans freeze easily.”

Yes, right. Human now. Hands. Skin. “Tell me again why I can’t find a house to stay in,” he asked, pulling the blanket away from his face to squint up at Lou.

They scoffed, crouched down beside him, and began to sort the clothes into piles. “My parents will never let a boy – worse, older boy – stay in our house,” they muttered, folding the sweatpants with a bit more force than necessary. “And no one else will take you in, either, not without official papers, and I don’t dare forge some.” He opened his mouth, about to ask if his name wasn’t enough. “Don’t even think about calling yourself Claus Climbermouse.” They cocked their head and glanced at the sky. “…on second thought, that might be fine – but Klatremus is a big no-no.”

Wait, seriously? They knew that too? “Is – am I still in Norway?” he asked, not quite managing to keep the surprise from his voice.

“Unfortunately,” Lou muttered.

Claus frowned. “But – but you spoke in English – ”

Lou blinked at the jacket in their hand, then turned to blink at him. “What, really?” They sighed, then shook their head tiredly. “I need to stop doing that…”

How does one accidentally speak English? Claus shook his head. “Okay, so no Claus and no Klatremus. Fine. What then?”

“What name you should be called?” Lou asked, folding up the last pile and throwing him a raised eyebrow. He nodded. “I’m calling you Claus and nothing can stop me,” they said, matter-of-factly, “but otherwise, uh. Is Christopher fine?”

“Christopher? Why Christopher?”

“It’s the, uh.” Lou stopped, some mild color rising to their cheeks. “The middle name of your voice actor in the movie and I thought Christopher fit you better than Espen and please don’t be mad.”

Oh yes, right – he’s the star of an extremely well-known Norwegian children’s book. Easy to forget, that. “I’m not mad,” he assured them. “Intrigued, but not mad. Impressed, but not mad.”

Lou fidgeted a bit. “Right,” they muttered. “Impressed. Ha.”

“Say,” Claus said, “can I – can I read? The book? If you have it?”

Now Lou lit up again, barking a brief laughter. “Yo, mate, you can read all three of them,” they said with a chuckle. “You can even see the movie if ya want.”

The movie? “Really?” he asked, a smile bursting across his lips. “How, though?”

“Er, well,” Lou said, leaning back on their elbows and tilting their head. “I have internet at the library, we could see it there, if you’re fine with that.”

Claus grimaced. “There are lots of humans there, though, aren’t there?”

“You are a human,” Lou deadpanned. “If you’re with me they won’t even bother you. I can say you’re a friend from Svelgen, no worries. That’s where I lived before, don’t bother asking.”

Claus, who’d been about to ask, nodded. “Right, okay. We’ll see the movie there, then. But uh.” He gestured for the piles of clothes. “What am I to do with this?”

“As I told you,” Lou said, “it gets real fucking cold during night. You’re more used to the forest than I, obviously, so I’ll leave it to you to find somewhere to sleep.”

Wow, how thoughtful. But he got the idea; he’d rather find a place to stay himself than trust a human to do it for him.

Uh. A native human? Born-human? Oh, whatever. “Okay,” he said, “I see that.” Then he hesitated. “Uh, is the library open now?”

Lou tugged at a black device hanging around their neck, glanced at the small display, then said, “Lucky you, it is.” They hurried to stuff all the clothes into a plastic bag, then climbed to their feet and dropped it in a nearby bush. “C’mon, let’s go.”

And Claus had no choice but to follow.

#hakkebakkeskogen #dyrene i hakkebakkeskogen #in the forest of huckybucky #the huckybucky forest #meg og mitt #my writing #lETS GO CLAUS

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omegangrins · 4 years

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[Kingsmen 3: The Golden Service] Harry Hart turns "villain"

TL;DR: The Lepidopterist is the *perfect* name for a "colorfull" megalomaniac who's trying to save the world via villainy.

I've allways had a nagging feeling that Colin Firth's Harry Hart is destined to become a villain. Like Valentine and Poppy, our Hart will break.

Why do I think this? Let's start simple:

1) "I always felt that the old Bond films were only as good as the villain. As a child, I rather fancied a future as a colorful megalomaniac."

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Now you could take it as face value veiled metaphor in their cat and mouse game. A game recognize game moment. Though when you look at it from a character angle, it is rather apparent that Galahad is not lying here. Look at the giddy nature in which they both talk about the subject. Almost lost in a moment of childhood nostalgia. Neither man is lying. So if Valentine tried to save the world like his younger self wanted, then it stands to reason that Harry has that childhood dream himself.

Harry even has a flair for the dramatic already. "Manners maketh man" is all about him causing a dignified scene to teach a lesson to all watching. In the Freebird church scene, you can see it BEFORE he starts fighting because of Valentine's machine.

Feels like a simple "I'm going to the bathroom" or "I'm hot and need to breath outside for moment" would have sufficed and gotten him out of there without hassle from the crazy Baptist and he KNEW that but didn't care. Arthur implies this subversiveness in their conversations about choosing candidates. Then there's the *way* in which he kills everyone there. Not just defense or trying to kill quickly but lots of slow, painful, and fucked up deaths. The killing is Valentine but the style is ALL Harry. It's part of the reasons he's disgusted. Not the enjoyment, but the ease with which he turned so gleefully. That slow motion fade in smile in the middle is proof of this. Harry *wanted* to punish those people the same way Valentine did. That's proven by what he says at the start. (Don't blame him either, just character commenting. Fuck those people.) Part of me thinks the Freebird is playing in *HIS* head. He's a bird freed by blood.

2) The Lepidopterist

I know the clip is from Venture Bros but it's meant to show how two "good guys" became bad. Kinda the perfect coincidence. But I digress... it was a shameless plug to #SavetheVentureBros. 😎😙😍

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The hobbyist collecting of insects, fauna/flora, and what-have-yous has looooong been a trope of "colorful megalomaniacs".

Then there's the added bonus that The Lepidopterist sounds like the *perfect* name for a Bond villain.

Butterflies even symbolize death and rebirth and the violence inherent in transforming something for the better.

Is Harry's butterflies a set-up foreshadowing to his coming transformation from "hero" to "villain"?

"I doubt whether I'd work for anyone who drowns their employees. I want to go home. I want my butterfly collection. I want to see Mother."

3) As we know, all the best villains are ones we sympathize with and understand WHY they do what they do. Valentine was trying to solve over-population and save what he could of the species so it wouldn't happen again. Poppy wanted drugs to be legal, partially for vanity reasons but mainly for anger at global government hypocrisies (the same governments which had their heads blown up for trying to kill humanity for their own gain). Wouldn't it fit perfectly for Harry Hart to have seen the horrors inflicted by the world governments and the corruption of not only Statesmen, but his beloved Kingsmen themselves, and say "No more." What's he gonna feel when he finds out Arthur sold the Kingsmen's soul and got him killed? How long has the "shoot the dog" exercise been in practice? Why is trying to drown someone thought of as a reasonable way to help them? Does the rot go to the core? All things any reasonable person would ask after being shot for an organization that was just blown up by a drug dealer.

"When I was shot, can you guess what the last thing was that flashed through my mind? It was absolutely nothing. I had no ties. No bittersweet memories. I was leaving nothing behind. Never experienced companionship, never been in love. And in that moment, all I felt was loneliness and regret."

Who's to say what he would do or the methods he would take, but villains are merely people casting shadows in the way of the light.

4) I put this last because it's more pun than the others and because I only realized it while writing their names out loud. Valentine. Poppy. Hart. A valentine is love, poppies symbolize death, and a heart combines both (a Hart is also the name for an adult male deer over the age of five but I'm not British enough to understand what the fuck that has to do with anything.) There's also Richmond Valentine/Rich Man Love (Rich dude saving the world). Poppy Adams/ Poppy of the Earth (Death of the World). And finally Harry Hart/Harry Heart. An attacking heart. Yeah, that's the old definition of "harry". To harass. (Or Power Ruler of the Five Year Old Male Deer. This isn't an exact science 🙃 ). Honestly, as I write these out, the puns become the hardest piece of proof for me. Brits love a good wordplay foreshadowing.

"... this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning."

AND what else do they have in common? They're all things associated with the color red. And what's red?

BLOOD.

Sorry, couldn't resist the touch of drama. 🤣

P.S. I know it's not really related but I also subscribe to the Poppy is a former Statesmen theory as well.

Making this an even more thematic connection. Good guys gone villain because of shitty situations.

Edits

5) HE'S WEARING AN EYEPATCH!!! How autistic am I that I missed that in my explanation. Eyepatches just seem that normal to me but they're like the ultimate villain accessory. Unless you're a pirate.

6) /u/Bespoke3 pointed out how the one thing keeping this from happening is Eggsy and Harry's relationship, and I contended that it was true. While making an interesting movie, you need a sufficient reason for those two to be on opposite ends of each other. And in rambling through comments, I found it. This is why you write shit outloud:

It's Princess Tilde!

The first movie showed that world leaders would gladly sell their souls to save themselves, Princess Tilde being one of the few exceptions. The second showed that even after those figureheads exploded (see what I did there 🤣), there was still terrible people left in charge making even worse decisions.

What if Harry's plan is to attack all of the "leaders" of the world as a way to show people they have the power to govern themselves. This would put Princess Tilde, and moreso her family, directly in the line of fire and force Eggsy's hand to intervene and choose.

Save the girl or save the world.

7) As /u/baddestmofointhe209 pointed out, Harry *was* shot in the head. That kind of thing does tend to mess with people after the fact. Maybe turning villain isn't such a stretch. Not evil, but morally grey.

8) My wife was telling me about how Colin Firth has allways wanted to play the villain too.

"Whenever you take on playing a villain, he has to cease to be a villain to you. If you judge this man by his time, he's doing very little wrong."

“I’d never rule out a part in Doctor Who or Torchwood – especially Doctor Who, I’d also love to play a villain like Moriarty in Sherlock Holmes."

9) Thanks to some pushback from /u/The-Reddit-Giraffe, I decided to Google Kingsmen 3 rumors and stumbled on this little nugget about it, and specifically the Harry/Eggsy relationship:

"I'm really not allowed to say anything, but there is a script. It's a really neat idea."

Outside of it telling the finale of Eggsy and Harry Hart's story, we don't know all that much about the plot for the third movie.

"People will either freak out in a good way, or freak out in a bad way, but they will freak out," Vaughn teased. "We're literally finishing the script off as I speak – but they go on a journey that, if anyone sees it coming, then I'll give up."

To which I would like to thank YOU. This is why I love being shown how I could be wrong. I can't help but feel like this is EXACTLY what they're talking about. You don't have a script finished that fast if you didn't already know where you were going with the first two.

It HAS to end like this. Now I can't see any other way. Maybe The Rock is the Big Bad they have to team up to stop at the end but I will say with 99% confidence that Harry Hart will turn rogue for the first 2/3 of the movie.

10) This wouldn't be the first time I was right about something like this either.

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dontcallmecarrie · 7 years

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Things That Nearly Happened [TWiFFON]

So.

It’s been a while since I started TWiFFON, and for those of you who’ve seen the outline-fic-idea-thing that kick-started this entire mess, you’ve probably seen the deviations from what I’d initially planned, even now.

Some of the bigger changes were because as I went along, and time passed, I couldn’t help but feel that the early draft was overly vindictive. This is meant to be self-indulgent, yes, but as it is I’m herding cats and dogs to keep everything on track, and just bashing for no reason sounds exhausting on a level I’m trying to not think too hard about [cough emotions cough].

So, a bit of a roll-call as to what’s changed since I posted the first chapter, and up to now. Plus some commentary on the process, because why not. Under the cut, because it got pretty damn long [you guys know how I roll].

The War is Far From Over Now was initially meant to be much, much darker.

I try to tag for everything I feel applies, and try to keep changes minimal. If you’ve seen my Doctor Who fanfics on AO3, you’ve probably noticed it’s a thing with me, because I want to make sure everyone knows what they’re signing up for. [I ended up updating them, because things got so far off-track.]

While playing with the basic premises of TWiFFON, the main one was ‘everyone keeps calling him a villain. Be careful what you wish for: what if Tony Stark had been evil?’ and looking at his capacity for damage.

I don’t read the comics, but just in the MCU since the first movie, I couldn’t help but think he’s got a better villain origin story than most villains, if he ever chose to go that route. Add to that my taste in music, and the lyrics of Black Sabbath’s Iron Man came to mind when I saw the thread that started it all: specifically, one of the last verses:

“Now the time is here,

for Iron Man to spread fear.

Vengeance from the grave,

kill the people he once saved!”

Aaand the outline just kept coming, because this is a spitefic and you guys can thank each and every anti-Tony post out there for me getting into this mess. They want to call him a villain? Fine. They’ll get one.

That was my mindset at the time.

Except, that wasn’t the end of it, because I kept going back to that post and thinking ‘but this doesn’t do what I had in mind justice, what should I do?’ and then ‘uh-oh shit brain no don’t do it, you’re already struggling with one fanfic as is! C’mon brain!’ ...and the rest is history.

Except for the way it isn’t, because TWiFFON was slated to be like 5 chapters long but then I noticed that the more I typed, the more I realized that the groundwork needed to be expanded on and that’s how the CA2 fallout arc even exists and why the AoU arc’s like three times its intended size.

Along the way, I realized that I wouldn’t be able to stomach writing the bashing I’d done in the original outline, and because of how stressful life was, and my knee-jerk reaction featuring writing cracky ideas. Tony was meant to be a lot darker, technically, but I couldn’t find a rational way to approach it that was also in character and also bearable to write. Contrast this with JARVIS: I keep mentioning how he’s a lot darker than canon. His character, I didn’t change from what was originally drafted as much, and even then I watered down his moral ambiguity when a prime opportunity came up.

tl;dr: TWiFFON’s lighter than what I’d originally meant it to be.

Because writing with sustained anger is exhausting and I’ll let the theme song communicate my wrath while I relax and have a good time writing a passive-aggressive +56k long ‘fuck you’ to everyone who thinks Team Cap were the heroes.

This fic was also meant to be a lot, lot shorter.

As mentioned before, it was meant to be like 5 chapters, and I’d severely underestimated the scope of this undertaking. That is the only way I can explain how 405 words of my outline ballooned into roughly half the fic because dammit the AoU arc hates me. [Over 20k words. fml]

Some continuity issues that I’ll have to correct when I’m done, like how Accounting’s an SI branch yet Finance is what shows up in the memos. Also, because of the unreliable narrator thing, a lot’s going on behind the scenes, and is the main reason I’m working on a sidefic for it.

...now onto the more specific things that got scrapped/added in.

The memos:

that format was me screwing around and remembering the classic ‘show, don’t tell’ thing any kid who’s had a writing lesson knows. Plus I’d found a few fanfics with that premise that I adored, and went ‘hey now there’s an idea!’ and it was a bigger hit than expected.

Maria Hill’s presence:

was meant to be a cameo only, but then a commenter brought her up and inspired me to have her show up more, except then it snowballed and I blame/thank them because I got the opportunity to explore some things I hadn’t gotten the chance to, before. Specifically, her thoughts on Steve Rogers’ defending the twins’ volunteering.

Nick Fury’s appearance:

I’d originally wanted him to show up as a janitor, because I love tropes and the Almighty Janitor is a personal favorite. And it would’ve had Tony facepalming and going ‘you know what? Screw it, I’m out, how the fuck is this my life’ when he found out that the janitor for the night shift on the R&D floor was none other than the badass of badasses, and nobody noticed because he’s just that good at going undercover. SWORD membership would’ve been a thing, too, and he would’ve been one of the ones snarking in the memos about that one op in Mogadishu and Decker, chill, seriously, no need for melodrama when it comes to naming this thing [coming from the dude who faked his death, so bonus irony].

Got scrapped because it would’ve taken even more effort than leaving him out, and this way you guys can imagine him just sitting in front of a laptop at a Starbucks and laughing at Tony whenever a headline about his robot army and SWORD comes up because no paperwork, not his problem.

Also got scrapped when I realized I needed Fury to have That One Conversation during the AoU arc, and for him to see what’s coming means he didn’t know what was happening earlier and for that to have happened means he was out of the loop beforehand.

Just— I like his character. Badass and been in the business long enough to get jaded and yet so optimistic about humanity [...doesn’t that sound familiar] despite it all. Plus there’s some headcanons I’ve got about how he’s a little like an uncle to Tony, if only in a vaguely distant way, what with seeing him grow up and all.

The alien invasion versus the robot uprising:

originally, I’d planned on sticking with canon, as per the outline. The closer I got to the AoU arc, though, the more I realized it would be a m e s s to go through with it, because it would’ve added so many issues as to how we’d get to the end goal of accidental world domination.

Like, I could’ve gone through with it, but I can guarantee that if I had then the PR department would’ve just thrown the Avengers under the bus, full stop.

Rich protocols nothing; it would’ve been full-on AIM-level ‘you’re dead, you just don’t know it yet’ hellfire mode, because these assholes are blaming the dude who’s the biggest name in AI for this epic screwup, and not the new addition who coincidentally triggered the only guy on the team who’s been the textbook case of PTSD for years now? Fuck no.

Plus, everyone keeps saying Ultron was Tony’s fault, in canon, despite the menacing alien magic staff thing just sitting unattended and flickering ominously. Or, y’know, even Wanda’s mindtrip, not five minutes beforehand.

Sure, Ultron is Tony’s fault. Riiight. [cough bullshit cough] It’s like everyone forgot this is the same damn thing that had the entire room about to brawl in under 5 minutes, back in the first Avengers movie.

tl;dr: I decided to just cut out the middle man. Magic Staff Thing of Evil that was given to Loki by Thanos, yes it’s an evil artifact and a plot device, let’s get on with the story already. [Might’ve been lazy writing, but I’m a broke student and time’s not always on my side so tough.]

Plus, the more I thought about it, the more I realized just how similar the two Avengers movies were in plot, except where the first one was executed brilliantly the second was...not. If anything, it felt like an inversion of the first, which is brilliant if that’s what they were going for but I highly doubt it. [I’m also ignoring the forced-feeling romance in the latter because when the fuck did Bruce and Natasha even get together? Canon or no, that’s just...no.]

...there’s probably more to it, and with how the story’s progressing more divergences from the outline too, but that’s all I can think of off the top of my head.

#behind the scenes #writer's commentary #The War is Far From Over Now #Deleted Scenes #kinda #meta #Naught rambles

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wordshappensometimes · 7 years

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Ghost in the Sun Pt. 4 (final!)

(Steve Rogers x Enhanced Reader)

Summary: Just because you can make yourself invisible doesn’t mean you can keep yourself from getting a nasty sunburn, and after a grueling mission in the Moroccan desert that’s exactly what’s happened. Luckily Steve is more than willing to help you put aloe on those hard-to-reach places once you get back.

A/N: So this took longer than I expected but here it is! The last part of Ghost in the Sun! I hope you guys enjoy, this story was my first go at fic-writing, and this part is my first time writing smut so i seriously appreciate any feedback! Thanks for reading!

Words: 2,702

Warnings: swearing, smut-ish, sunburn?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

After dinner with the whole team, you help Wanda clean up in the kitchen. As excellent as a cook she was, she hadn’t really gotten the hang of not making a complete mess of the kitchen every time she cooked- especially when it came to her homemade sauces- so the clean up takes longer than usual. The two of you chat as Wanda washes dishes and you scrub sauce off of the stove top, catching up on everything you’d missed in the tower during your mission. Once the kitchen looks more like a human living space and less like a grocery store after an earthquake, you head out towards your room, passing the team as they relax in the common room.

Steve’s head pops up as he sees you come in and he looks to you attentively. You come to a stop, having forgotten your post-dinner plans with the supersoldier.

“Oh- right, yeah.” You motion with your head for Steve to join you; Steve smiles at you and nods, quickly pushing himself up out of his chair.

You’re not exactly excited about round two; while you’re grateful for his help, having Steve rub aloe all over you had been all sorts of uncomfortable last time (or at least that’s what you had insisted on telling yourself anyway). Hopefully it would be less weird this time around.

The two of you step into your room, and without giving it a second thought you reach down and casually pull your shirt off over your head, never missing a step as you walk towards the bathroom. Steve’s eyes go wide as you pull the fabric over your head and he can feel his heartbeat pick up a few beats. Is it suddenly warmer in here? He honestly can’t tell. Feeling his face flush, he averts his eyes to the carpet and takes a quick breath before following you into the bathroom.

Not having noticed the super soldier’s brief absence, you squirt some aloe into your hand and start to apply it to that strawberry you call your face. Steve steps in behind you and you pass him the bottle so he can get started on your back.

It’s quiet and strangely tense for a few moments, but suddenly Steve speaks up.

”So how is it that you can even get sunburnt?” His eyes flick up to meet yours in the mirror as he continues massaging the soothing gel into your shoulders. “You don’t even cast a shadow when you go ghost”

You chuckle at his question, “Well in an ironic twist of epic proportions, it turns out I can only avoid visible light rays, UV rays on the other hand, not so much, and they’re the ones that really love to burn ya.”

“Ahh, gotcha. And that’s why you’re redder than Stark’s suit?”

Your mouth drops open in mock offense “Hey! I’m the only one in this tower who’s allowed to make ridiculous comparisons about my new stop sign-ish hue!”

Steve laughs heartily as he moves his hands lower on your back, you move to support yourself on the sink yet again.

Mercifully, the conversation between you and Steve flows easily this time around, allowing you both to feel relaxed as Steve works his hands all over your burnt body. As the two of you talk, Steve massages aloe into your arms, belly, and chest (and even though he doesn’t hesitate like he did last time, a silence falls over the two of you as his hands smooth aloe onto your supple flesh). The combination of his strong hands and soothing aloe feels almost blissful, and if you didn’t know any better you would guess by his expression that Steve’s enjoying this too.

Over the next week this becomes your routine; and it gets easier and easier each time, more and more comfortable, more and more...dare you say...enjoyable?

Every night after dinner the two of you head to your room and chat while you run through copious amounts of aloe vera. This is the first time you guys have ever hung out on your own, and as it turns out, Cap’s hilarious, and not nearly as uptight as you thought him to be. To be fair, you really only knew Captain Rogers before, in all his responsible patriotic glory, but now you were getting to know Steve: the funny, kind-hearted guy from Brooklyn. The two of you seem to have a natural rhythm and chemistry, and it’s addicting for you. Sure, you’re tight with Sam and Nat, but spending time with Steve always manages to lift your spirits, and it almost makes you wish you hadn’t kept things so strictly professional between the two of you for so long-- almost.

As the week rolls along, your skin starts to look less and less like it’s on fire, and while you’re grateful to no longer look like Bob the tomato, there’s a pit in your stomach every time you think about your new routine with Steve coming to an end. You can’t shake the feeling, the little twinge of- what is it you’re feeling exactly? Sadness? Loneliness? Oh god, yearning? Whatever it is, you try to push the feeling in your gut away, besides it’s not like you’re never going to see him again- you live and work in the same building for pete’s sake. And as an added bonus, you and Steve have taken to hanging out together almost constantly when neither of you are working; how Steve always manages to find you when you’re on break is a mystery to you, but you’re certainly not about to complain.

Come Saturday night, there’s 3 empty aloe bottles stacked up in your garbage can, a fourth bottle stands half-empty on your bathroom sink. At eight o’clock on the nose, you and Steve stroll into your room, playfully arguing about Steve’s cooking abilities (or more accurately- lack thereof).

“Dude, all I’m saying is no one would complain if you decided to let someone else cook the team dinner when it’s your turn. In fact, they’d probably be grateful.” You flash a cheeky smile over your shoulder at the annoyed super soldier as you step into your room.

“Oh come on, (Y/N) I’m not that bad of a cook.” You turn towards Steve and scrunch up your face, playing up a pained, pitiful expression as he closes the door behind him.

His expression drops a little, “Is it really that bad?”

You think for a moment, “No, well, yes- but nowhere near as bad as Vision’s cooking... if you can even call it that.” Steve chuckles a little and you shrug, “You just need to learn how to season your ingredients and not, ya know, boil everything.”

Steve shakes his head and reaches his hand up behind his neck, “I’m tryin, (Y/N)”

“I could help you if you want.” Steve smiles at your proposition. You reach your hands down to the hem of your black t-shirt and pull the close-fitting fabric over your head, revealing a black push-up bra.

“That’d b-be.... Great......” Steve’s response trails off as his eyes take in the picture before him. Now that your sunburn was more or less gone, you were able to wear your regular tops and bras without feeling like your shoulders were being constantly scolded with a hot iron. And while you don’t really feel like there’s much of a difference between being seen in a sports-bra and your regular bra, the look on Steve’s face is painting a rather different picture. His eyes are glued to you as you haphazardly toss your shirt onto the bed, but you hardly notice as you start towards the bathroom.

“Ready?” You smile at Steve, and his gaze shoots back up to your face, he gives you a quick nod and bites his lip slightly.

You study your reflection in the bathroom mirror as Steve steps in behind you, you turn to the side slightly so you can admire how your ass looks in the jeans you’re wearing since you haven’t worn them for a while. You catch Steve also looking at your ass in the mirror and raise your eyebrow playfully at him- you don’t really mind, he’d been stealing glances at you all week. Boys will be boys you figure.

“Ya know, I think this may be the last time we need to do this-”

You see Steve’s expression drop slightly and you feel that familiar twinge in your gut again. Shh, cállate (shut up). You clear your throat, and try to push away the feeling.

“I mean, my blisters are gone, I don’t feel like a human fireball, and I definitely won’t cut it as a Mr. Krab’s double anymore.”

You laugh to yourself as Steve tilts his head to the side and throws you a questioning look in the mirror. You sigh, “honestly even if you were the age you look you still probably wouldn’t have gotten that reference.”

You both laugh as Steve reaches for the bottle of aloe.

“Oh well that’s a relief then, one less thing that I have to catch up on.”

Steve squeezes some aloe into his hands and starts in on your neck and shoulders. He massages you with an intensity you haven’t felt before; it’s absolutely heavenly. You press your hands into the sink counter again. Steve’s strong hands really work into you as they move down your back, and you try to hold back the moan threatening to work its way out of your throat.

“God, Steve that feels amazing....” you sigh out. The sentence hangs in the air around you for what feels like eternity before you realize how goddamn sexual it sounds. You clear your throat quickly and add “...Ever considered becoming a full time masseuse?” You look down, becoming suddenly interested in the marble countertop. You dare not lift your eyes up to meet Steve’s after what just came out of your mouth. You feel a heat rising in your cheeks and a tension building in your stomach, pero ¿qué demonios te pasa, (Y/N)? (what the heck is happening to you?)

Steve steps closer to you, and you can feel him press up against your butt. You bite your lip as you notice your breathing has picked up.

Steve traces his hands up your back to your shoulders. He gently places his finger under your bra strap, and slides it slowly down your shoulder. You’re expecting to feel his strong hands massaging in more aloe, but instead you feel the softest, most supple lips press into your shoulder. You inhale suddenly and look up to catch his gaze in the mirror. His bright blue eyes burn into you as he slowly kisses his way up to your neck. You bite your lip and close your eyes. His kisses grow stronger and more passionate when you tilt your head to the side to give him better access.

Steve’s massive arms close around your waist and pull you close to his chest, you reach up and card your fingers through his blonde hair as his lips reach your jawline. You let out the moan you’ve been holding in and let yourself melt into his touch.

Suddenly, Steve spins you around, you take in his features: his lips pink and swollen, his hair messy, his eyes hungry with lust-blown pupils. You look at each other for a moment, breathless. Finally you put your hands on the sides of his face to pull him down to you, and just as you do his arms around your waist pull you up towards him. Your lips meet in a passionate, almost frantic kiss as you pull yourself closer and closer to each other. His tongue slides over your bottom lip and you open your mouth and press into him to deepen the kiss. Steve moans, and the sound sends tingles through your entire being. Your hands stay on the back of Steve’s head, playing with his hair, trying to pull him even closer to you despite that being physically impossible at this point. Steve’s hands, meanwhile, run down your back and land on your plump ass. He squeezes firmly, causing you to giggle and moan into his mouth. He squeezes again and you moan on cue, causing a deep chuckle to emit from Steve’s chest. Este chico me va a volver loca (this boy’s gonna drive me crazy).

Next thing you know, Steve is pulling you up and putting you on the bathroom counter; you open your legs to let him closer to you, knocking the half-empty aloe bottle into the garbage along with the others. Your mind is a blur: lips, and hands, hands everywhere, and Steve, his lips on your lips, his lips on your jaw, his lips running down your neck. You reach out to blindly find the hem of Steve’s shirt, Steve’s lips lift from your skin just long enough for you to pull it over his head, revealing his frankly ridiculous body. In an instant he’s brought his lips to your neck again, not wanting to missing a beat. His lips work into your skin like he’s desperate for more, his hands never stop pulling you closer towards him, he pushes up against the heat building in your core and you can feel his growing hard-on. You moan at the sensation and wrap your legs around his waist, pushing your core closer to him.

Steve rolls his hips against you and an almost embarrassingly high-pitched whine leaves your mouth, but you don’t care, how could you when Steve is about to drive you absolutely mad?

Steve kisses down from your neck into the valley of your breasts, and as he does you unclasp your bra and let it slide down your arms. Steve pulls back, his eyes wide with shock and awe as your toss your bra to the side and rest your hands back up on his shoulders. He breathes heavily as he takes in the sight before him.

“You are so beautiful, (Y/N).”

You smile and bite your lip, just then Steve plunges towards you and pulls your breast into his mouth, sucking at your nipple and biting it gently. He takes your other breast into his hand and massages it roughly; you don’t know how much more you can take before you explode, the passion and ecstasy are almost too much to bare.

Between gasps for air you manage to moan, “Oh god, Steve. Steve I-I need you.”

Without skipping a beat, your legs still wrapped around him, Steve picks you up by your waist and carries you to the bed, plopping you onto it. He stands up to take off his pants and you scramble to remove yours. Now completely bare, Steve crawls over to you on the bed and hovers above you, you pull him into another passionate kiss and feel the weight of his naked body press against you.

Steve parts from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, his lips now just ghosting above yours, he sighs and smiles,

“I’ve been dreaming of this for weeks.” You crook and eyebrow at him and drag your lower lip between your teeth.

“Just this?” You roll your hips up into his to tease him, and you could almost swear it looks like he’s about to fall apart. He whimpers at your teasing and then immediately dives back into a passionate kiss. Your lips move against each other in perfect, passionate rhythm, so much for keeping things professional.

Steve breaks away from the kiss again and you start to whine at his absence until you feel his mouth licking circle around your nipple again. You drag your hands through his hair as he continues his path downwards. Finally, after licking his way down your belly and inner thigh, he pushes his mouth against your clit and roughly sucks and licks at it.

“¡Ay! ¡Capitán!” you scream as a wave of pleasure overcomes you. You can feel Steve smile at the reaction he’s getting; he knows your Spanish is only reserved for the most intense moments, and this one was definitely a chart-topper.

You roll your hips up towards his mouth, desperate for more, but instead of giving you what you need, he pulls back and grins wickedly up at you.

“Paciencia, señorita.”

You raise an eyebrow at him and huff out a laugh. Before you have time to retort Steve’s already dived back in, and you scream out:

“¡Coño! (asshole!)”

______________________________________________________________________

~Fin!~

Please let me know what ya’ll thought! Positive or negative I’d love to know where to take my writing next <3

#captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #enhanced reader #wordshappensometimes #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #smut

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