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#I feel like every fanfiction has this moment or this moment in like a different font
asmosmainhoe · 4 months
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MC's eyes glow when they use magic
Hello ☆ I hope u're having a nice day :D I had one request for the Obey Me brothers kek, their reaction to an MC whose eyes glow when they use magic, and when they use the demons powers their eyes change color to the sin color (Ex. Red for Beel, Blue for Luci, etc) and it feels as if they connect with MC in a deeper level? Sorry if its too weird or specific! I've been enjoying reading your writings 🤗
-anon
Note: I'm so sorry that it's so short, love! I've been so busy preparing things for the holidays since I'm visiting my home country :'D
Gender: neutral
Warnings: heavy language
Lucifer
He loves the fact that your eyes glow in the color of his sin when you channel his magic
It fills him with pride to see how that makes the connection between you two so obvious for others
That's right. That's his power
"I must say that blue suits you wonderfully."
He's very casual about it, but he's definitely doing a small dancy dance of victory behind closed doors
Mammon
Of course he is head over heels for your glowing eyes when you channel his magic! They basically look like the shiniest coins he has ever seen!
Besides it makes it more than obvious that you guys have a pact together
"Fuck yea! That's my human over there!"
Please use his power so that people know you're fucking shit up with his help
Leviathan
Levi is absolutely geeking out over the fact that your fucking eyes glow when you use magic
I mean if that doesn't scream main character vibes then I don't know what does
He's so going to use that as inspiration for rpg's or headcanons/fanfictions in the future
And then they glow in his sin's color too when you channel his magic? It's so strangelt intimate that he can't help, but blush
Satan
Since he has read about it he's not really surprised by that, but it's still a huge difference to see it with his own eyes
Especially when he feels you channeling his powers and your eyes light up in his color
Seeing that makes Satan feel like someone punched him in the guts, but in a good way? If that makes sense?
Asmodeus
Your eyes are literally glowing in not only his magics colors, but it's also his absolute favorite one as well!
"MC, you look fantastic when you use my powers! Absolutely stunning!"
Asmo can't stop gushing about it and he always compliments you for an hour straight whenever it happens
This is what others must feel like when he's seducing them with his eyes
Beelzebub
Imagine you have this angry, skilled sorcerer person absolutely wreck your shit, because you wronged them, but their eyes also glow red?! How intimidating is that?
Unlike the person who is suffering under your magic, Beel is completely mesmerized
He can't find the right words to describe how wonderful you look with his color right now
It makes him forget about his hunger
Belphegor
Belphie is so smug about it and can and will rub it under everyone's nose
"Did MC use your magic? No, bitch. Their eyes were purple so sit down."
It's just a very nice and absolute confirmation for the fact that he is your favorite and that his magic was the most useful one to you in that moment
His brothers will never hear the end of it, because he keeps casually mentioning it at every given opportunity
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beesspacedotorg · 3 months
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Handle With Care
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Summary: You've had a truly awful day, luckily, your adoring boyfriend Minho is there to make it better. 2.5k words
Warnings: there's sex, but honestly it feels like someone accidentally got porn in my fluff so do with that what you will. reader is as gender neutral as physically possible. reader is also lowkey a crybaby, sorry but actually I'm not
Notes: Hello adoring public. It turns out, I can write fanfiction, and with the encouragement of Juno and Ems, I can also post it! There is a cat in this, she was inspired by a cat my family used to have and a cat my family currently has. They're both calico which I think explains everything you need to know about them.
There’s a lot you can say about the day you had today, and most of them start with sh- and end in -itty. You’re thinking on this as you dive head first onto the rough material of your couch, great for sitting, bad for face planting. You hear a scratching by your head and absentmindedly bat your cat away from the arm of the couch, mumbling something about how she has a perfectly good cat tree two feet away before resuming your completely justified sulking.
“Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come home. How was your day?” There’s a voice above you and you can picture him in your mind's eye, leaning against the back of the couch as he stares at your limp form, probably eyeing the shoes you didn’t take off by the door. You mumble something half hearted in response and he huffs before the sound of walking hits your ears and all the breath leaves your body at once. He’s sitting on you. This motherfucker is sitting on you.
“Get off, Minho” You had to tilt your head to the side, it’s hard enough to breathe through couch fabric as is, much less when there’s a full grown man sitting on your back.
“You should answer people when they try to talk to you, jagiya.”
“You shouldn’t sit on people while they’re laying down, yeobo.” Your voice is a lot more acidic than his was and a twinge of guilt settles on you before it dissipates as he shifts and manages to place more weight on your back.
“Hmm. I guess we’re both doing things that we shouldn’t then. How tragic.” His voice is deadpan, and you still can’t see him from where your head is turned- your view is limited to the back of the couch and his arm in your periphery- but you can feel the dead stare he’s aiming at your skull. There’s a silence for a few moments while you engage in a war of attrition, neither of you willing to give up just yet, but it’s getting genuinely hard to breathe and your back is starting to hurt.
“It sucked, please get off.” He does, patting your back consolingly.
“See? Was that so hard?” He guides your head to his lap as you both sit back down, petting over your hair like he would his cats. “Tell me, what’s got my baby in such a tizzy?”
You grumble at him, rolling over to shove your face into his stomach, tired and petulant. He sighs softly, but keeps patting your head, so you know he’s mostly just doing it for show.
“That kind of day, hmm, jagi?” And you nod again. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from a normal day, it’s just that the right things managed to go very wrong and subsequently ruined your day in a way that has pressure forming behind your eyes and your voice cracking stupidly every time you try to talk.
You both sit for a while before he puts something on the TV and gently shoves your head off his lap.
“Hey-”
“Do you want the dinner I worked so hard on to go cold?” He has his hands on his hips in front of you and you laugh slightly at how funny he looks. He rolls his eyes and goes, coming back with two bowls of something before he forcefully sits you up and shoves it in your hands.
“Eat.”
“Yes, chef.”
The food is delicious, it always is when Minho cooks it, he’s got a talent for it you’ve never really seen firsthand, and you consider yourself truly blessed to be able to eat it as often as he’s able to make it for you. Still, gratefulness and taste aside, your day was shitty enough that every mouthful tastes like ash and turns to rot in your stomach, leaving you with an unsettling queasiness that shouldn’t ever be attributed to your boyfriend’s cooking. You’re shoving the contents around with a spoon before he huffs- a real one this time- and takes the bowl from you, setting it on the coffee table next to his own before he mutes the TV.
“Okay. Quite clearly something is wrong. What can I do to help you?” You think he knows, but you like that he asks anyway. Minho always asks, always lets you talk and sort out whatever’s going on before he tries to help. Even if your answer is a simple shake of the head, a simple, I don’t feel like it, become a mind reader, he always asks before he helps. Sometimes you wonder how he always knows what you need, others you just decide to not look a gift horse in the mouth.
You huff and your lip wobbles pathetically and he coos, slightly condescending.
“Crying already? I haven’t even done anything.” He’s teasing, but his hands are gentle as he pulls you into his lap, his hands are gentle as they find their way under your shirt, his mouth is gentle as it kisses down the side of your face to your neck.
“‘M sorry,” you’re not the biggest fan of crying, neither is he, but for different reasons. He’s not someone who’s brought to tears easily, you are, but there’s an inherent shame in it, you think. Something so embarrassing about getting worked up enough to start crying like a baby, and so as much and as often as you feel like crying, you don’t. This he also knows, because he knows everything.
“Aish, why are you sorry for? I didn’t tell you to apologize, did I?” He taps your cheek lightly, causing you to look up at him, he plants a kiss on your nose, then your mouth.
“Sweet thing, don’t worry about anything except for what I tell you to, okay?” And you nod and he smiles.
You’re not much for talking in times like these, everything is so sensitive and soft and talking feels like a cheese grater on this cloudlike moment so you don’t and he knows, so he doesn’t chide you for it. Usually, he would. He’d crack a hand down on your ass or grab a fistful of your hair and tell you that he asked you a question so he expects an answer, but that’s not what you need right now, so he doesn’t. He just kisses your jaw again before he puts both of his warm hands under your shirt and lets his fingers poke at your chest.
He always says his hands are small, but really, you wouldn’t be able to tell, not with the way he cups your chest in his hand and lets his thumb brush over your nipple, gentle and reverent. It’s not much, not as much as he usually gives you, but it’s enough to have your mouth dropping open with a gasp and your back arching into his hand, it’s enough to have him giggling softly at your reaction.
“Sensitive today?” He’s teasing again, as soft as he is right now, he’s still Minho, he still likes to poke fun. You huff, biting at his shoulder softly in retaliation and he lets you, pinching your nipple just this side of too much in retribution before one of his hands wanders down to your ass, groping and squishing the flesh. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pushes your hips forward onto his, friction sending sparks up your spine.
“Min-” You’re desperate and he hasn’t even done anything yet, not really. A few stray touches and you already feel yourself shattering to pieces in his grasp, you’re not afraid though, and not quite ashamed. He’ll take care of you, he always does.
He does it again, guides your hips forward until you’ve gotten the hint to keep going by yourself and you’re struck with the urge to kiss him, so you do, removing your head from the home it’s made on his shoulder and making a go at his mouth. It’s messy, your coordination shot already, and you almost smash your forehead into his nose before he catches your head with a laugh.
“Easy there. Bloody noses aren’t exactly sexy.” You disagree, he could make anything sexy, but you don’t have time to voice that thought as he pushes his mouth onto yours and lovingly shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss is messy, they always are. However gentle he is, he can never seem to stop himself from kissing you until your face is covered in drool and spit, and if it were anyone else, you’d be mildly repulsed, but you like the way he looks at your mouth after it’s over, so you let it slide. 
You pull away, chest burning and heaving and look at him before you still, eyes drawn to something by his head.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” You don’t answer, gaze still drawn away from him.
“There’s a little white girl staring at me.” He turns his head to the side and laughs as he comes face to face with your cat, her green eyes boring into him. He scratches her head affectionately and lets her headbutt him before your center of gravity is shifting drastically and you’re clinging onto him for dear life.
The bedroom door shuts before you’re very aware of it and suddenly there’s a mattress under your back and a Minho over your front and his hands are up your shirt again, this time shoving it off of you until your chest is bare. You shiver slightly from the cold and then there’s a blanket being shoved around your shoulders and you smile up at him. He knows you so well, he loves you so much and your eyes are welling with tears.
“Aigoo, my little crybaby. It’s just a blanket,” there’s a kiss on each of your cheek bones, “silly thing. Save your tears for when my cock is in you, hmm?” Your breath stutters again and your hands are tugging at his shirt until he takes it off, he laughs again when your hands immediately find his chest.
“I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work.”
“They’re nice boobs.” The sentence catches him off guard, makes him laugh hard enough that he loses his balance a little and his weight settles onto you more. It’s comforting, like a weighted blanket that can talk and walk and kiss you silly.
Then, his hands are under your bottoms, tugging them off your legs and you’re suddenly wearing nothing and he’s still in his pants, which you find disgustingly unfair. You reach down and tug on the hem off his sweats, pouting and huffing until he gets the message and tugs those off too.
“You just want to get me naked,” he starts. “I can’t believe you just want me for my body.” You nod cheekily in response and he smacks your shoulder.
“Yah! See if I’m ever nice to you again!” But he’s kissing your neck again as his hands guide your legs to cross over his hips before he’s touching you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs and makes your head tip back into the pillows.
“There we go. So pretty when you’re like this, hmm? So soft and sweet for me.” His fingers are in you now, pressing insistently against that spot that makes white splash in your vision and reflexively forces your legs shut. He grunts slightly as your thighs squeeze around his hips, pressure just this side of uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything though, just keeps his pace steady inside you until you’re almost tipping over and he stops. You look at him with something akin to betrayal, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to complain he’s sliding home and you don’t have enough air to say anything anyway.
He catches it though, rolls his eyes as he sees the way your attitude was about to flare up.
“What did I tell you earlier, jagiya? Don’t worry about anything unless I tell you to worry about it. I always take care of you, don’t I?” He does, he’s good to you like that. He sounds slightly out of breath already, unusual for him, but you don’t mind because it feels like you’re seconds away from God’s doorstep yourself.
His pace is slow and deep, bass knock steady even as you squirm under him. If this were a normal situation, he’d stop, hands gripping your hips unforgivingly until you stayed still, but this isn’t a normal situation so he lets you wiggle, only huffing in mild irritation before he leans down to kiss you again.
“You’re gonna knock us off the damn bed, baby.” But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, and you feel too good to really process his words anyway. You love him, you really do, and you’re struck with the overwhelming urge to tell him, to let him know, to make him know. You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging in until he hisses and levels you with a glare, one that instantly softens when he meets your eyes.
“I love you,” it comes out of you as a sob, like it was wrenched from your vocal chords before you gave yourself permission to think it. “I love you so much.” You’re rambling now, repeating those three words over and over and Minho coos, hips faltering just slightly. He always goes weak when you tell him you love him, and you keep it in your back pocket like a weapon for the times that you’re in trouble.
“I love you, too, jagiya. ‘S that why you’re crying? Hmm? Love me so much it’s gotta spill out from your pretty eyes?” You nod in response, breath hitching from the pleasure and the tears and his hand drifts from its place on your hip to touch you again and you’re spilling liquid heat before you can really register what’s happening. You feel him inside you, too, insides suddenly molten warm but you’re floating too high for it to feel like it’s happening to you, like you’ve been temporarily ejected from your body.
When your soul settles back into your bones, Minho is laying next to you, staring at you with his wide eyes, you look over at him and smile.
“Is boba really worth it?” He looks confused at your question before you poke him on the eyelid and he laughs.
“Feel better?” You consider for a moment. Your teeth don’t feel like they’re too big for their sockets and your bones no longer feel itchy. You’re hungry, but mostly, your mind is quiet. There’s no overwhelming pressure behind your eyes and when you talk your voice cracks from sleep instead of from the force of choking back tears.
“Much. I’m hungry, though.” You give your best impression of puppy eyes at him and watch as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. You’ve been told that your pleading face looks mildly perturbing, but Minho always says you remind him of Soonie when you do it. It makes you feel slightly bad for Soonie, soon the cat isn’t going to be able to get anything off of Minho because you’ll have rendered him immune.
He comes back with your reheated bowl in one hand and your cat in the other.
“She screamed at me until I picked her up. Stood on my feet and hollered.” He winces slightly. “I should’ve put on boxers because she almost mistook my dick for a toy.”
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solarsturniolo · 2 months
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gonna need an nsfw alphabet from you for Matt if u haven’t already
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Matt Sturniolo NSFW alphabet
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Warnings: NSFW (obviously) / Sex / kinks / like it’s literally descriptive blurbs about what he’s like during sex idk what else to even put lmao
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A = Aftercare: Matt’s a sweetheart and he makes sure to take good care of you after doing the deed. He’ll clean you up and help you slip into one of his shirts before pulling you into his arms to hold you. Whispering soft praises against your hair, peppering kisses across your head and face. If there’s anything that you need, he’s doing it for you in a heartbeat.
B = Body part: His favorite body part of his are his hands, the one part of him that can feel every inch of you. He can hold you, squeeze you, caress you. His hands know every crevice, every crook and cranny of your body. He could navigate your body with his eyes closed. His favorite body part of yours are your lips. He’d kiss you for hours if you’d let him. He loves how soft they are against his skin when you kiss him, and he loves the way they look when you smile at him. Not to mention how pretty his name sounds falling from your lips.
C = Cum: He’ll typically cum on your stomach or face, but some mornings he’s too lazy to put on a condom and too high with bliss to pull out. It’s rare when it happens, and he knows the consequences that could come with it, but there’s nothing he loves more than finishing inside you after a round of filthy sleepy morning sex.
D = Dirty secret: He reads fanfiction to study things to say or do during sex. Sometimes you wonder how he comes up with some of the things he says or how he knows just what to do at just the right time. He’s just glad you haven’t found his tumblr yet.
E = Experience: He hadn’t had sex very much before meeting you, maybe only once or twice. It took some guidance from you but he was a fast learner.
F = Favorite position: He loves missionary, he thinks the intimacy and closeness only enhances the alluring moment between you both. That being said, he also loves when you ride him. He loves anything that makes you feel more close and connected to each other. He also just likes being able to see your face.
G = Goofy: It’s no big secret that Matt’s a goofball. This doesn’t change in the bedroom. Sometimes between positions he’ll tickle your sides, other times he’ll stumble over his words and make a silly face. Something about it is charming and admirable, like he doesn’t change who he is in these intimate moments. He’s still the same goofy guy you fell in love with.
H = Hair: He keeps it neat and trimmed. He’ll let it grow out if he knows he’s not going to see you for a long period of time, but he likes to keep it well tamed when you’re around. His facial hair, however, he will grow out for…personal reasons.
I = Intimacy: Gentle touches and caresses, soft kisses all over your body, sweet whispers of praise…Matt is very intimate. He wants to soak it all in, every delicious second of it. He believes the sensual foreplay and teasing is just as important as the actual intercourse itself. He wants to be as close and passionate with you as he physically can.
J = Jack off: He’s a very organized individual and he has a system for everything, jerking off is no different. Every time he knows exactly what pictures and videos of yours to look at, and he knows he only needs about fifteen minutes max. He’s quiet and composed, though as he gets closer he’ll slip up and let a few whimpers out. He’ll lift up his shirt enough to spill his cum onto torso, then he’ll clean himself up and go back to whatever it was that he was doing before.
K = Kink: Matt isn’t super kinky, but he does have a handful of favorites. He likes choking, spanking, and bondage, but he doesn’t go out of his comfort zone too much to try anything crazy.
L = Location: Matt is a pretty old fashioned guy when it comes to where he wants to have sex. The bed is his favorite because he has you all to himself and doesn’t have to worry about any distractions. That being said, he still enjoys the risk every now and again. The car and the kitchen are his other two favorites. He loves to come up behind you after breakfast and snake his arms around your waist, kissing your neck softly. “You take such good care of me,” he whispers in his gravely sleepy voice. He’ll gently push you to lean over the counter, his hands moving to grasp your hips. “Now let me take care of you.”
M = Motivation: He knows it’s time to drag you to the bedroom when you’re kissing his neck. It’s the one thing that drives him absolutely crazy, and you know it.
N = No: Matt has no interest in pegging whatsoever. He’s fine with experimenting with the submissive stuff, but he draws the line at anything penetrating him. He also refuses to use a gag toy. He wants you to be able to use the safe word if the time ever came, so he ruled out anything that takes longer than 5 seconds to spit out of your mouth.
O = Oral: He doesn’t really care about receiving. He loves it, of course, but he would much rather be taking care of you. He loves to be buried between your legs, in fact he’ll find pretty much any excuse to be there. He will not move forward with anything until he has made you finish on his tongue at least once.
P = Pace: it depends on the mood that he’s in. Most of the time he likes to take his time, slow and sensual sex with soft music playing. But some days he has the animalistic urge to push you down onto the bed and have his way with you. It’s not often, usually only when you get him riled up, like when you manage to incorporate thigh high socks into whatever outfit you plan out. It awakens something primal in him and all he can think about for the rest of the day is what he’s going to do once you get back into his bedroom that night.
Q = Quickie: Matt prefers taking his time with you, so a quickie isn’t necessarily his favorite. But sometimes, in the heat of the moment, he’s game to squeeze a round in before he and his brothers have to leave to film. It’s very rare though, because one time he didn’t get to finish before he had to leave and you could definitely tell that he was irritated by it in the footage they had recorded that night.
R = Risk: Matt does not like taking risks. No shower sex, he wouldn’t want to risk slipping and hurting you. No public sex, he wouldn’t want anyone to see or hear and potentially catch you. If he is feeling risky, he’ll take you to an empty parking garage to have sex in his car.
S = Stamina: Matt can really only go about two rounds before he’s done for the night, but fortunately he also lasts a fairly long time. However, when he hasn’t seen you in a long period of time, a third round is almost guaranteed. He can’t help it, it’s hard not to finish fast the first round when he hasn’t held you in almost three weeks.
T = Toys: This man owns a fleshlight, argue with the wall.
U = Unfair: Love is a word that doesn’t even begin to describe his feelings toward teasing. He practically gets off to it. Watching you squirm and beg for him all while he just tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “What’s the matter, pretty girl? You don’t like when i do this?” He’ll smirk knowingly as you whine at his words, begging for him to do anything.
V = Volume: Hes not super loud, he doesn’t like the idea of anyone hearing what’s happening in his room when you’re there with him. Not because he’s ashamed, but because he doesn’t like to share. He likes any and all intimate moments with you to be only his. That being said, he still wants you to know how good you make him feel. He’ll grunt and moan softly against your skin, he’ll whisper dirty things in your ear about how perfect you feel around him. He knows just what to do to drive you crazy, he just likes to do it quietly :)
W = Wild card: He secretly enjoys being submissive sometimes, but he will never be the first one to suggest it or initiate it. But when you do suggest it, he is more than happy to fulfil your wishes as well as his own.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): Matt has a great build, he’s not too big but not super scrawny. He’s toned but not ripped. As for what’s in his pants, he has what would be categorized as the perfect dick. Not small but not huge, he has enough to fill you up perfectly every time.
Y = Yearning: His sex drive is pretty high, especially around you. When you’re not there, it’s easier for him to ignore it, but when you’re a foot away from him he feels this almost primal need inside of him. The need to push you down and make you his. When you’re around, there’s no telling when his libido will dip, he just wants it the entire time you’re with him.
Z = Zzz: Matt cherishes the time after sex, he loves getting to snuggle with you and watch a few episodes of your new favorite show or having an in-depth discussion about your ongoing beef with that coworker you don’t like. He doesn’t care as long as he gets to be close to you. He usually won’t fall asleep until you have, and even then he likes to stay up and admire you while you’re at your most peaceful state.
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a/n: hope you all enjoyed! please remember that these are all fictional.
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Tags: @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @mattsbratt69 @oversturn @simplysturn @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @cupidsword @liz-stxrn @sturniolosreads @sturnioloskies @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chris @tillies33ssss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @breeloveschris @meg-sturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @mattsfavwh3re @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @xtravrgnoliveoil @ghostlythinggoingaround @taekwite @rootbeerworshiper
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forestdeath1 · 2 months
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Canon Sirius through quotes
Part 3. Harshness and toughness (and how Sirius Black differs from James Potter). It's long. Really long.
Sirius isn't a soft crybaby. His harshness (and even cruelty) goes beyond the silly teenage pranks we usually see in fanfiction. Sirius is often either whitewashed by newer fans or overly demonized by anti-Marauders fans. Sirius has a tough exterior but a heart of gold. He's not childish and had to grow up early, though he can still be quite fun.
‘Do you know, I still have trouble believing it,’ said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. ‘Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I’d have thought ... .’
"Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I’d have thought" – this shouldn't be taken literally. Rosmerta saw many others regularly, Dumbledore, Lily, Remus, and many others, and out of all of them, Sirius Black was the last who could turn to the Dark side? Seriously? Did Sirius walk around with a halo and angel wings?
One trait that is always emphasized in his appearance is his haughty, bored look.
Rosmerta speaks metaphorically, not literally. She saw Sirius once a month or two when they went out to Hogsmeade to have fun and drink. In those moments, Sirius was lively, funny and noisy (especially lively after running away from home), and perhaps he even flirted with Rosmerta in a childish manner, melting the heart of the adult woman.
Sirius can be funny, although his humor is always edging towards dark:
"Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose.’ 
Ron laughed but Hermione looked upset. 
‘Sirius!’ she said reproachfully. ‘Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher, I’m sure he’d respond. After all, you are the only member of his family he’s got left, and Professor Dumbledore said –’ 
‘So, what are Umbridge’s lessons like?’ Sirius interrupted. ‘Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?’
Moreover, he interrupts Hermione, not letting her finish her point. He sharply outlines if he doesn't want to listen.
"the stuffed elf-heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards"
Dark humor.
‘Kreacher is cleaning,’ the elf repeated. ‘Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black –’ 
‘And it’s getting blacker every day, it’s filthy,’ said Sirius.
Here he responds with a clear "Black" shade. His mother also loved to talk about filth.
‘Sirius – it’s me ... it’s Peter ... your friend ... you wouldn’t ...’ Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled. ‘There’s enough filth on my robes without you touching them,’ said Black.
And again. And here’s his mother:
‘Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers –’ 
‘Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth ...’
Sirius desperately wants to be unlike the Blacks, but he is still Sirius Black.
‘I thought it was the perfect plan ... a bluff ... Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they’d use a weak, talentless thing like you ... it must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters.’
Sirius's humor isn't the only harsh thing about him. Even though here he has a reason – after Azkaban he met James's traitor – his way of speaking reflects his overall personality. The way one speaks is a mirror of personality, even if Sirius has PTSD, it only exposes even more vividly what he might control in a calm state.
‘Nasty temper he’s got, that Sirius Black.’ (Peeves)
At the same time, yes, he can be cheerful and infect everyone around him with his cheerfulness. If he's in a sombre mood, he creates a quite oppressive atmosphere around him that everyone feels. Just as with a good mood – everyone feels it.
Harry could not remember Sirius ever being in such a good mood; he was actually singing carols, apparently delighted that he was to have company over Christmas. 
-
Sirius tramping past their door towards Buckbeak’s room, singing ‘God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs’ at the top of his voice. 
-
Sirius’s delight at having the house full again, and especially at having Harry back, was infectious. He was no longer their sullen host of the summer; now he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more than they would have done at Hogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, cleaning and decorating with their help.
But the ability to be cheerful is in no way connected to being very harshn at the same time. This is precisely the case with Sirius.
Of all the Marauders, only Sirius is really harsh and can be truly dangerous (the author wrote about him, “The best-looking, most rebellious, most dangerous of the four marauders”). James was also a bully, but he's not harsh, despite the fact that it was he who pulled down Snape's trousers. Why? I think Sirius was already aware of what they were doing. James – not. Without awareness, it's too early to speak of any harshness and cruelty. Sirius had this awareness and still continued to do it.
Let's consider the reactions of Sirius and James in comparison.
‘Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?’ 
Sirius did not smile. ‘My whole family have been in Slytherin,’ he said.
‘Blimey,’ said James, ‘and I thought you seemed all right!’ 
Sirius grinned. ‘Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?’
A small note: Sirius didn't even react to James's "I'd leave", even though he knew his whole family was from Slytherin, and he was likely to go there too.
James lifted an invisible sword. ‘“Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!” Like my dad.’ Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him.
‘Got a problem with that?’ ‘No,’ said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. ‘If you’d rather be brawny than brainy –’
It was Snape who starts the confrontation on a personal level. James in his insults in this memory refers to moral qualities. "Who wants to be in Slytherin?" Only bad people. He is prejudiced against Slytherin because Slytherin is evil. Voldemort is gaining momentum. The first Muggle-born Minister was recently ousted. Attacks are happening here and there. Dark forces are growing. More and more of the pure-blood society talks about "Mudbloods" not belonging in this world. And "amazingly", they all turn out to be from Slytherin. James sees himself as a noble knight "James lifted an invisible sword", and he is against Slytherin not so much personally as against the moral component of Slytherin.
‘Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?’ interjected Sirius.
James roared with laughter. Lily sat up, rather flushed, and looked from James to Sirius in dislike.
Sirius immediately strikes at Snape's personality. Sirius is sharp-tongued, self-assured, and likely accustomed to considering others below himself. He probably assessed James as his equal right away. Brave, cheerful, sincere.
'Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment.'
'Oooooo...'
James and Sirius imitated her lofty voice; James tried to trip Snape as he passed.
'See ya, Snivellus!' a voice called, as the compartment door slammed...
James tried to trip Snape. James most often uses physical/magical force. He trips Snape, he pulls down Snape's trousers, he uses most of the spells on Snape in SWM. But it's Sirius who goes after Snape's personality. It looks like James has concocted a "noble justification" for his behavior and attitude and punishes Snape for existing just as he is.
Sirius, on the other hand, hardly uses magical/physical force in memories; he finds painful points in Snape's personality – from character to appearance, intentionally demeaning his personal traits.
Moreover, it was Sirius who focused on Snape's appearance. No one, except him, places such an emphasis on Snape's unattractive appearance and his untidiness.
'Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was,'
Very vivid epithets. Sirius is very eloquent when it comes to demeaning someone he dislikes.
Moreover, it's James who's the attention seeker. It's James who plays with the snitch, drawing attention, glancing at the girls by the lake, and ruffling his hair to show everyone how cool, strong, brave, and awesome he is.
After five minutes of this, Harry wondered why James didn’t tell Wormtail to get a grip on himself, but James seemed to be enjoying the attention. Harry noticed that his father had a habit of rumpling up his hair as though to keep it from getting too tidy, and he also kept looking over at the girls by the water’s edge.
While Sirius, likely, isn't much interested in societal validation. Sirius is more reserved, with firmer boundaries, he's not as interested in public adoration as James might be.
Lupin had pulled out a book and was reading. Sirius stared around at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored, but very handsomely so.
This is a typical expression for Sirius – bored and haughty. He spent nearly five full years in Gryffindor alongside James, and the bored and haughty expression is still with him. It's not just a random trait in his character – it's one of the pillars of his personality, reflecting his attitude towards random people around him.
‘Put that away, will you,’ said Sirius finally, as James made a fine catch and Wormtail let out a cheer, ‘before Wormtail wets himself with excitement.’
As I've said, Sirius cuts with his words without a knife. They've been studying together for five years, been friends with Peter, and he jokes about Peter like this. I think they all joked about each other in the same way, just James's "jokes" are blunt and probably he just says whatever comes to mind, whereas Sirius's are more subtle and hurtful.
Moreover, when people say this is the only episode we know of bullying by James and Sirius and that it's the worst in their history, that's not correct. This episode is the worst in Snape's life. And not because they pulled down his trousers. But because he lost Lily forever that day. This episode, likely, was quite typical for the Marauders. They were in a good mood, had finished exams, Snape just happened to pass by, there were no obvious reasons for this bullying. Harry sifted through their detention records, and there were many, very many, and how many more when they weren't caught?
Sirius got bored, and there they decided to "have some fun."
‘I’m bored,’ said Sirius. ‘Wish it was full moon.’ 
‘You might,’ said Lupin darkly from behind his book. ‘We’ve still got Transfiguration, if you’re bored you could test me. Here ...’ and he held out his book. 
But Sirius snorted. ‘I don’t need to look at that rubbish, I know it all.’
I won't discuss The Prank here, many have written about it. In general, Sirius doesn't show empathy in everyday interactions even with Remus. Sirius has a heart of gold, but his shell, especially as a teenager – tough, harsh, sharp, and cutting. The grown-up Sirius interacts with close people much more politely, though he still occasionally shows his harshness (for example, with Hermione).
‘This’ll liven you up, Padfoot,’ said James quietly. ‘Look who it is ...’ 
Sirius’s head turned. He became very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit. 
‘Excellent,’ he said softly. ‘Snivellus.’
I don't want to justify Sirius and James, but for context – Snape is fascinated by the Dark Arts, hangs out with future Death Eaters (= fascist), and they have mutual dislike from the first year. No, the act is immature, but James justifies it in his head exactly like this – Snape is bad for him, so anything goes, and anyway, "so what?" Sirius doesn't need justifications. He's just bored.
Even when James uses all the spells on Snape, he still glances at the lake:
Snape lay panting on the ground. James and Sirius advanced on him, wands raised, James glancing over his shoulder at the girls at the water’s edge as he went. Wormtail was on his feet now, watching hungrily, edging around Lupin to get a clearer view.
Why look at the girls by the lake when you're humiliating someone, if you know you're doing something really bad? James genuinely sees himself as a noble knight, deserving of admiration. Moreover, many do admire him (''Students all around had turned to watch. Some of them had got to their feet and were edging nearer. Some looked apprehensive, others entertained. Several people watching laughed''), and Lupin mentioned several times that James was popular at school.
‘How’d the exam go, Snivelly?’ said James. 
‘I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment,’ said Sirius viciously. ‘There’ll be great grease marks all over it, they won’t be able to read a word.’ 
Again, Sirius harshly targets Snape's personal traits, including his appearance.
‘You – wait,’ he panted, staring up at James with an expression of purest loathing, ‘you – wait!’ 
‘Wait for what?’ said Sirius coolly. ‘What’re you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?’ 
And again – Sirius strikes with words.
Snape let out a stream of mixed swear words and hexes, but with his wand ten feet away nothing happened.
‘Wash out your mouth,’ said James coldly. ‘Scourgify!’
And James responds with a spell to what? Snape's insults. He says ‘Wash out your mouth.’ He appeals to the moral side of the issue.
‘I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!’
‘Apologise to Evans!’ James roared at Snape, his wand pointed  threateningly at him. ‘I don’t want you to make him apologise,’ Lily shouted, rounding on James. ‘You’re as bad as he is.’ ‘What?’ yelped James. ‘I’d NEVER call you a – you-know-what!’
This also proves that James is sure he's doing everything right. James is like a volunteer in the allies' army against the fascists, a brave Gryffindor, and his sword is to cast spells on anyone he deems not fitting his moral standards.
‘Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you’ve just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.’
And from the outside, it looked like this.
‘What is it with her?’ said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him. 
‘Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,’ said Sirius.
And Sirius understands it all too well. Who he is, who James is, and what Lily thinks about it all. Sirius knows about James's crush on Lily and finds it even funny that she rejects him. Likely because Sirius understands that they often cross the line. I don’t think Sirius could have stopped Potter. I don't even think Sirius wanted to stop Potter. He found it all funny. Azkaban, on the other hand, softened Sirius in his interactions with others. It knocked down his pride and arrogance. Showed him that life can be unfair and you don't need to act like a haughty jerk who thinks the world revolves around them.
At school, Sirius was more about psychological bullying, while James was about the physical. Given that James and Sirius were very popular at school and within their house, their bullying was likely directed mostly at Slytherins or at arrogant jerks like themselves who they just "didn't like."
And the adult Sirius understands that they were “arrogant little berks.” And he’s “not proud of it,” but his next words speak for themselves:
“ I think James was everything Snape wanted to be – he was popular, he was good at Quidditch – good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts, and James – whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry – always hated the Dark Arts.”
Sirius justifies James while simultaneously praising him. Justifications always imply a partial denial of guilt. Someone fully aware of their guilt doesn’t seek to justify or be justified. Of course, Sirius said this for Harry's sake too. To ensure Harry didn’t think his father was just a bully for no reason. His father was actually “on the side of good,” is what Sirius wants to convey. About himself, he remains silent. But he doesn't miss the chance to insult Snape again “little oddball.”
Even Remus, as an adult, sincerely justifies James.
‘She started going out with him in seventh year,’ said Lupin. 
‘Once James had deflated his head a bit,’ said Sirius. ‘And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it,’ said Lupin.
 ‘Even Snape?’ said Harry. ‘Well,’ said Lupin slowly, ‘Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James so you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?’ 
‘And my mum was OK with that?’ 
‘She didn’t know too much about it, to tell you the truth,’ said Sirius. ‘I mean, James didn’t take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?’
Lupin finds a genuine justification for James. The concept of “violence in any form is bad” isn’t fully grasped by them. They follow an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Lupin even was ready to kill Peter, and he insisted that war is not a playground and that killing is sometimes necessary in war. Remus, though gentler and kinder, and preferring not to engage in conflict, genuinely wished Sirius and James hadn't bullied anyone at school, but yet, he still reconciles with all they do and even justifies James.
In Sirius's mind, James may have acted like a fool, but Sirius doesn’t genuinely condemn it. He just thinks they were too arrogant. And Sirius’s behavior after Azkaban (how he became gentler with others) indicates he truly realized – you don't need to belittle everyone you dislike or even like. Yet, Sirius’s harshness, even after Azkaban, didn’t disappear; it was just redirected towards what he genuinely hates.
‘Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defence Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons ... you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me –’ 
Black made a derisive noise. 
‘It served him right,’ he sneered. ‘Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to ... hoping he could get us expelled ...’
Remus's reactions are much softer, but Sirius’s reaction, even years later, is harsh and even a bit cruel. ‘It served him right.’ Because it's an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
However, Sirius’s harshness still occasionally breaks through even towards his close ones when he slightly loses control over himself after Azkaban.
‘You’re less like your father than I thought,’ he said finally, a definite coolness in his voice. ‘The risk would’ve been what made it fun for James.’ 
‘Well, I’d better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs,’ said Sirius, but Harry was sure he was lying. ‘I’ll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?’
Sirius calls themselves “arrogant little berks,” but the peculiarity of Sirius’s arrogance is that it's due to his personal qualities, not external “glamour”.
 ‘I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter – I’ll never understand why I didn’t see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who’d look after you, didn’t you?’
He despises Peter for groveling, for weakness, for the same reasons he despises Regulus, considering him a soft idiot. Sirius’s arrogance was never built on finances or blood purity, on popularity, on playing Quidditch, not on his name, although the family dynamics undoubtedly influenced his pride. But overall, his arrogance is of a different level – that of a rebellious spirit, a very strong person, not like the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy is intentionally depicted as the complete opposite of Sirius Black (in character – the most rebellious of their pure-blood circle and the most sycophantic, and in appearance – black and white).
Sirius and Kreacher's story demonstrates that Sirius does not forgive those he hated and can carry hatred through the years. People usually soften over time, but Sirius has an excuse – Azkaban. Nonetheless, the behavioral pattern remains unchanged. Azkaban does not change the essence of people, it makes certain traits more vivid and pronounced. Sirius became calmer towards the people around him who help fight against evil, he toned down his arrogance and pride (even towards Snape, he no longer hurls insults first, it’s Snape who insults Sirius first), but Sirius became even harsher towards those he hates.
‘Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, and it’s no good looking like that, you know it’s true. I’ve said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did ... and so did Sirius.’
Harry had no retort. As he watched Kreacher sobbing on the floor, he remembered what Dumbledore had said to him, mere hours after Sirius’s death: I do not think Sirius ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human’s ...
And he himself demonstrates this repeatedly:
At which Sirius, ignoring Hermione’s protests, seized Kreacher by the back of his loincloth and threw him bodily from the room.
Dumbledore believes Sirius showed cruelty to Kreacher through his indifference and neglect. That is, Sirius could shut off his empathy towards a being, despite generally being friendly towards house-elves.
‘He (Sirius) regarded him (Kreacher) as a servant unworthy of much interest or notice. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike… Sirius was not a cruel man, he was kind to house-elves in general. He had no love for Kreacher, because Kreacher was a living reminder of the home Sirius had hated.’
Sirius was not evil. But the neglect emanating from him was very cruel, harsh, and cold. Sirius can shut away all the good within him towards anyone he despised – “And whatever Kreacher’s faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher’s lot easier –”
‘– comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he’s back, they say he’s a murderer too –’
‘Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!’ said Sirius irritably as he slammed the door shut on the elf.
However, Sirius likely never killed anyone, even while serving in the "Order."
Regarding his family and even Regulus, Sirius is also harsh. Even if he, like any child, deep down loved his family, it doesn’t matter because his real words and actions are very harsh and aimed at severing ties. The possible love for them deep down only further highlights his harshness and readiness for confrontation.
“I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal ... my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them”
Likely, he’s ashamed of them, and his hatred also builds a wall between them and himself.
‘Does it matter if she’s my cousin?’ snapped Sirius. ‘As far as I’m concerned, they’re not my family. She’s certainly not my family. I haven’t seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming into Azkaban. D’you think I’m proud of having a relative like her?’
And at the same time Dumbledore about James:
‘I knew your father very well, both at Hogwarts and later, Harry,’ he said gently. ‘He would have saved Pettigrew too, I am sure of it.’
I don’t know how true this is (though likely, the author speaks through Dumbledore here), but considering that Harry himself is a character whose main traits include the ability to understand and forgive others, perhaps James had this to some extent too. But Sirius lacks the ability to forgive, and this is deliberately shown in the book – that he suffered precisely because of his excessive harshness.
In conclusion, Sirius's harshness and toughness is not just teenage arrogance; it's directly a trait of his personality, something that cannot be overlooked when talking about the canonical Sirius, not his sugar-coated substitute in fandom. Sirius had to grow up very early, and all this left its mark on him.
Of all the Marauders, only Sirius is really harsh and can be truly dangerous.
But Sirius was not cruel in a moral-ethical sense, or more precisely – ideologically. There's no reason to believe Sirius is constantly drawn to the dark side or that he's amoral. His constant fight against his family suggests instead that he formed high ideals within himself. No, Sirius is not amoral; he has difficulty with empathy (especially in childhood), a tendency towards aggression and cruelty (mostly in childhood, he controls himself quite well as an adult. Well, for Sirius Black quite well), arrogance, but he very well understands what is right and what is wrong.
‘She’s got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.’
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🎀 CM KidFic Challenge 🧸
Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of March AND April, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including children, babies, or pregnancy (biological, adoptive, animal, etc.) using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed! Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading.
(**This is NOT a request list for me—this is a prompt list of other writers! Feel free to request from someone else, and be sure to let them know about the challenge!)
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Prompts
Child says their first word(s)
Child becomes an older sibling
Character stands up for their child
The couple enjoys trying for a baby
Characters are fantastic platonic co-parents
Child is starting to act a lot like their parent(s)
The couple announces their pregnancy to everyone
The couple fosters a teenager preparing for college
The couple takes their child to college/their own place
The couple thinks they’re having twins… but it’s triplets
Character runs into their ex who has a child that looks just like them
The couple realizes how different things are the second, third, etc. time
Character needs reassurance about the fact they don’t enjoy being pregnant
Character finds that being around Child helps them heal their own inner child
The couple babysits together, which leads to a conversation about their future
Character struggles with the fact that their teenage kid has their first partner
Character is very attentive to their pregnant partner... almost irritatingly so
Character witnesses a quiet moment with their partner and their baby during a night feeding
Character, chronically single, asks their best friend if they’d be open to having a child with them
Child realizes that not every kid has two moms/two dads and they have a lot of questions about it
The couple takes Child to daycare for the first time but they can’t make themselves leave the parking lot
Child is having a hard time at school, so Character picks them up from school for a day of quality time together
Pregnancy cravings lead to a very dramatic late-night grocery store trip that makes Character fall more in love
Anything else you can imagine!
Childfree/Pregnancy-Free prompts below + Create your own!
Childfree/Pregnancy-Free Prompts
Character is the fun uncle/aunt
The couple adopts a pet together
Character gets to meet their partner’s (judgmental) pet
Character reveals that they don't want to have children and their partner's reaction surprises them
A child the BAU saved comes back years later to thank them and show what they’ve done with their life
The couple decides to give up on becoming parents and they learn how to have a fulfilled life without a child
Rules
The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.
Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.
The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check.Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.
Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.
Have fun!
The Masterlist of fics will be posted around May 1. If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!
Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️
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Happy Writing!
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thexianzhoujade · 2 months
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「 last kiss | genshin impact fanfiction 」 zhongli & neuvillette x gn!reader | angst, amnesia | requested work. ↳ additional tags. angst with no comfort, established relationships, reader kinda likes adrenaline (at least hinted - zhongli)
↳ ehehe... the first request i've taken !! this is the second time i've ever written for neuvillette omg.. this was requested by @crackheadclownery !!
Hi hi, dropping by to say i absolutely LOVED the Forget You fic aaaaaaaa🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 i love me some angst, this is just what I needed!!! I couldn't find if your requests are open, but if they are, would you please consider writing the same trope for zhongli and neuvillette? Feel free to ignore this if the requests are closed!!! Take care and have a nice day/night!!!!
data has been uploaded! - send an ask to join the taglist; specify genshin, honkai or both! @lovingluxury, @dumbificat, @starryshinyskies, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @ainescribe, @soleillunne
the jade's guidelines | genshin m.list | previous work
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ZHONGLI didn't think it'd come down to this when he had eternally devoted himself to a partner - one that was mortal, nonetheless. he expected the sand timer of life, the ticking seconds and moments passed that he'd never get back with them; not this, no. not this. you were persistent and zhongli unfortunately had little ability to tell you the word no, especially when you flutter pretty eyelashes up at him and pout that lower lip.
that's how you ended up in this situation. had he been a little more stern, he could have prevented this. the geo archon had done many things in his lifetime that he harboured regrets for but this one possibly took the crown for it. how could he have been so reckless knowing the limited time he had with you at his side? zhongli scolds himself for not being more strict, if only to protect you for another day.
you'd bonded well to the adepti under zhongli's - former - command, knowing that your parter was the very well worshipped archon of liyue. in fact, you bonded so well to them that you were inseparable from the likes of xiao and shenhe when it came down to them working. you were determined for the thrill and zhongli wishes that maybe, time would have mulled down the adrenaline rush you got from it.
xiao's expression explained to zhongli more than words did regarding the severity of the situation, after all you were zhongli's partner - rex lapis, morax, the god of contracts, the lord of rock, the one who very well saved xiao in the darkest crevices of time and set him on a better path. amber eyes that shrink when they land on the taller male, gloved hands shaking as he tries to get his words out. they come out finally in a sharp gasp; you'd been fatally injured.
every soul in liyue trusted baizhu with their lives, maybe not hu tao but zhongli recognised the director had a different flavour of life she preferred. yet he could feel the anxiety growing in his chest, gnawing at his ribs like a rabid animal and it only worsened as xiao explained the damage you took to your head from the fall, trying to escape a lawachurl that xiao hadn't got to in time. ah, so his last surviving yaksha was also rotting to a guilt that wouldn't wither away?
zhongli has spent decades learning how to read emotions, facial expressions and gestures that the mortal realm commit to when words simply don't work. everything has been etched into his mind to the point where he could read everyone like an open book, something that sometimes works in his favour. there's a sorry look on baizhu's face, a grimace whenever he looks at zhongli right up to the moment where he utters that you've got amnesia.
time stops and there's nothing that could make the hands of the clock keep ticking at this revelation. he was prepared for the sand timer, the ticking seconds and moments passed he'd never get back with you. he was expecting the days to be counted, the wrinkles that would grace your face and tell tales of your youth. but if you forgot him, he had no more of that, did he?
for better or for worse, the famed geo archon made the decision not to see you for himself. not cradled up in a bed at the bubu pharmacy, battered and bruised and confused by your surroundings, the people around you. he wanted you to shine in his memories, like gold and for that, he wanted to remember how he last saw you before you'd left that day.
a bright grin on your face, eyes twinkling with excitement as he leaned to press a kiss to your lips, softly muttering his precautions and worries as his warm breath fans over your face. you brushed him off, returning the kiss before turning to leave your shared house and now he wishes he'd done anything, if only he'd grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into his firm chest. now, he must return home and see you everywhere but never you, yourself, your body and soul.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
partners in crime, that's what people would usually say to describe your relationship with NEUVILLETTE. after all, the iudex of fontaine entangled in a relationship so cherished and sweet with a member of the marechaussee phantom under his own command? the laws and legalities of fontaine sure had its own way of bringing people together.
you were a reputable member of the special detective force, determined and a valuable asset to their taskforce. neuvillette valued you both as a member of the marechaussee phantom and his very own partner, the one that toughened up his workaholic shell and slithered into his heart. he was in love, completely and utterly in love. it didn't take a genius to see that the iudex was just as devoted to you as he was his work, in fact he'd started to make space in his day just for you.
your job was much more dangerous than neuvillette's and he recognised that every time he would press a kiss to your head every morning before you parted ways at the aquabus station. he would be tucked safely away in the palais mermonia whereas you had criminals to deal with, scoundrels who dared defy the laws your very partner put in place.
neuvillette also recognised that you were a mortal. he'd kept his own personal life secret from you so in your naivety, you also thought he was a mortal - just an astounding and extraordinary one that you would never fail to smother in love. he wishes he'd told you, uttered his secrets and pressed his lips to your soft skin one more time when he realised the consequences of your job.
it was a day like no other, you were tasked with apprehending another dangerous criminal bold enough to resist arrest and by the archons, of course you was determined to chase them down. even if it meant a brawl breaking out in the midst of fontaine's serene countryside, the only sounds being the quiet chirp of distant birds and heavy pants of your struggles.
you succeeded in bringing him down just as reinforcements arrived to help detain the criminal and yet, the criminal could not let you have the last laugh, tripping you as you stood to walk away. your head met a rock, concussing you.
neuvillette waits for you every day at the aquabus station, ready to journey home with you after a tiring day sat filing through documents and being present for meetings. every evening, he considered what state you'd come home in this time - or if you'd even come home but he recognises that the marechaussee phantom would let him know if that fate ever disturbed the flow of your relationship.
with the fontainian sunset painting the most gorgeous backdrop - nothing that could compare to your beauty in neuvillette's eyes, - you finally approached in one piece and yet not an inch of a warm smile on your face as your eyes meet him. silently, you turn to wait for the aquabus. had he said something wrong? was you mad at him? neuvillette frowns, uttering your name quietly into the tense air but it comes out as a question.
"i'm sorry..." you mumble, furrowing your brows as you look up at the taller male. you couldn't deny he was handsome and you wondered if his partner knew that, "do i know you?"
that's when neuvillette notices chevreuse approaching but her footsteps stop the moment she notices that the man had already engaged in conversation with you. a defeated look accompanies the sorry smile that she gives neuvillette from behind you and he realises exactly what happened. his lips part but his mouth is dry, not even the richest waters of teyvat could quench the parch of his mouth at this moment as his heart breaks in his chest.
you'd lost your memory at work? the work that you did under his command? neuvillette grimaces when he realises you were still awaiting his response, his saddened eyes softening as they lower to you once again.
"my apologies, i mistook you for someone else." he sighs, turning forward to face the oncoming aquabus' arrival. yes, he mistook you for his dearly beloved, the one who held the key to his heart. he takes his step onto the aquabus, following behind you as he remembers that last kiss you shared at the station earlier that day. oh, if only he hadn't taken those kisses for granted.
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© thexianzhoujade 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.
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softgreengrass · 2 months
Note
would you be willing to do a sad nat one shot? sorry I just need to feel something 💀
Punishment
Natasha Romanoff x reader
Summary: you are dead (sorry) and nat has to live with that 😞 (most of this takes place inside of a dream hopefully it’s not too confusing)
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: death,, referenced torture
Author’s Note: sorry this is on the shorter side! tysm for requesting ☺️ i also use fanfiction to feel so hopefully it’s sad enough for you
It’s a nightmare, like always. You’re there, like always.
“Nat!” your voice rings out, light and sweet in the hazy morning light, and Natasha rolls over, burying her face in your side of the bed. It’s still warm. “Nat!”
“Five more minutes,” she grumbles back.
Your footsteps come to a stop next to the bed. “I made cinnamon rolls, you know.”
Natasha smiles to herself. It all feels so, so real. The sheets smell like your lotion, and the sun is pale through the curtains, just like it always is in winter. How it was the last winter you were with her.
You poke her shoulder. “Aren’t you supposed to be a superspy? Get up.”
“I’m off the clock,” she says, sitting up anyways. The glimmer in your eyes looks so real. Her lungs tighten at that, and she wraps her arms around your waist, hugging you tight.
You laugh and run your fingers through her hair. “Missed me that much, huh?”
She closes her eyes and sinks deeper into you, praying as hard as she ever has. Begging for just one more life with you. She remembers how to breathe again as you scratch her scalp gently and lean into her embrace, and she inhales you again.
After far too little time passes, you rest your hands on her shoulders. “Come on, baby. They’re gonna get cold.”
She lets you lead her out of the bedroom, hands intertwined. The apartment looks just how you left it. Because it’s so easy to, she slips back into routine. Like you’re there every day when she wakes up. She tugs open the blinds over the sink and waters the plants on the windowsill; you pour two cups of coffee. You sit down at the table together like it’s any old Saturday.
“What’s with you today?” you ask with a slight smile, immediately pulling a cinnamon roll from the pan.
“Me?” Natasha replies.
“No, the milkman.”
She grins, shaking her head. “Sorry. I don’t know, I’m just out of it.”
“Well, you’re not too out of it to talk crossword, right?”
God, she had forgotten about that. You’ve been on a crossword kick lately, though you heavily rely on Natasha’s knowledge bank of language and policy and science. Really, you mostly cover the pop culture clues. “Never.”
You spread the newspaper out between the both of you and drop a pencil in front of her. “I’ll start with down, you’ll start with across?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You scribble down some answers, eyebrows furrowed.
Natasha stands up for a moment, just to get the cream, but when she turns back around she’s not in the kitchen anymore. She’s strapped to that chair, staring at you in that cell. Your eyes are bloodshot. The dreams always wind up here, no matter how innocently they start, and Natasha’s stomach churns.
“Nat,” you croak, and her heart shatters for the millionth time.
She thrashes against her restraints, but they must be made of fucking vibranium because they cut into her wrists without budging. She doesn’t have any tricks up her sleeve — she’s in her pajamas, for God’s sake. No widow’s bite or portable EMP. Not even a way to signal Clint.
“Nat, please,” you beg, your voice as raw as the bruises on your face.
“I’m going to-” she says, struggling against the restraints again. “I’m going to get you out.”
But of course, she can’t. She might as well be a bronze statue in that chair. They’re going to make her watch you die again.
She racks her brain for as long as she can, fights the excruciating dejá vu. Maybe something will be different this time. Maybe she can get someone’s attention, some lackey she can convince to let her out. She’ll murder them all, then. Murder them and take you home.
A vent catches her eye, in the corner of your cell. You don’t have much at your disposal, but there’s a food tray on the floor that might work. She has to say your name three times before you recognize it.
“What?” you ask suddenly, eyes wide.
“I need you to try something, okay?”
You’re weak. You’ve been there for days at the minimum, been under intense interrogation lights and an array of torture methods. Natasha was the one trained for that, not you. “I don’t know…”
“Please.”
You swallow iron-tinged spit.
“Can you break that in half?” Natasha whispers, flicking her eyes to the tray. She doesn’t remember if you’re under surveillance or not. She figures you must be.
Your hands shake as you reach for it. It must be tin, that’s how flimsy and light it is, but you know you don’t have the strength to break it by hand. That ship sailed about three gut punches ago. You’d vomited out everything but your will to live, though that was fading fast too.
“Use your legs,” Natasha hisses like she can read your mind. “Stick it under something, get leverage.”
The sight of you stumbling to the bunk sends fire up her throat. She’s going to burn them all alive.
You wedge the tray under one of the bunk’s legs and pull up on the other side before stepping down on it as hard as you can. All it does is fold in half.
“Fuck,” Natasha mutters. “Can you rip it? With your teeth or something?”
You’re pretty sure your teeth would fall out if you so much as bite an apple, so you drive the tray down on the sharpest edge you can find: the corner of the tiny sink. Later, Natasha will think about how strange it was that the cell had so many amenities. She’ll come up with triple the ways to escape. All too late.
The corner pierces it, and you claw at the hole until the tray is split in half. It slices your fingers in more places than you can count.
“Use it on the vent,” Natasha says. Despite herself, she feels an ember of hope in her chest. You’d never gotten this close before. She can barely watch as you balance on top of the sink, trying to shove the sharp little metal sheet into the seam between the vent and wall. It’s slippery with blood.
A door in the cell she hadn’t even noticed swings open. A man in black storms in. Before she can get a word out, he grabs you, throws you to the ground.
Natasha recoils, forcing her eyes back open as quickly as possible. He kicks you, over and over, and you cry for mercy.
Her restraints seem to tighten. They cut off her circulation, so that not even dislocating her wrists would let her save you. She’s absolutely helpless. You sob and curl into yourself, and she’s sure she’s never felt such anguish before. But she has, and she certainly will again.
Her eyes shoot open to dark ceiling. She’s in the living room, using the couch like a cot. She still hasn’t brought herself to touch the bed you made. She probably never will.
She drags herself to her feet and shuffles to the kitchen counter, turning on the electric kettle. Only chamomile helps her breathe now.
All those people she’d managed to kill. All those missions she’d executed to perfection, for the Red Room and HYDRA and Fury. All of the people caught in the crossfire of her tunnel vision. And yet, in the single most important moment of her life, she had failed. Failed.
She figures it could’ve been karma. A cosmic punishment for the arrogance of trying to wipe her slate clean. With that much sin to atone for, she shouldn’t be able to live happily. That’s what the universe seems to think, at least.
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Text
Easier When Unknown
Summary: Danny could have imagined his life would be interesting after everyone learned his secret, but he didn't think it would be this different.
Author's Note: A phic phight fanfiction! Here are the two prompts:
AU where no one knew Danny was Phantom until PP (or some alternate big reveal of the author's choice). Sam and Tucker are sure that a famous hero like Danny Phantom is too cool to be their friend again, especially since they haven't talked since before freshman year of high school. Danny just wants to be part of the trio again and has no idea how to ask.
Danny finds out that Sam's been being bullied at school and has been hiding it from him and Tucker out of embarrassment.
...
Danny’s life definitely didn’t get easier after his identity was revealed, but it didn’t get that much harder, which was good.  Right?
Or, well, that was a little bit of an oversimplification.  His life definitely got harder in a lot of ways.  People stared at  him wherever he went.  Suddenly all of the popular kids at school wanted to be best friends with him, like he couldn’t see through that change of pace from a mile away.  There were news stations constantly vying for the first interview with the half-ghost kid who defeated the Ghost King.
But his parents stopped hunting him.  And they were going to try to work things out.  And Jazz revealed that she’d actually known for a while now, and that made her more ready to adapt to everything, and she didn’t treat him like anything had changed.
And all of that kind of evened it out, at the end of the day.  Even if he wasn’t exactly sure he was ready to go from town’s enemy to world’s hero.
Because that was another part of this: word of Amity Park, ghosts in general, and what he’d done had been spreading like wildfire since he’d put Pariah Dark back in his coffin.  Suddenly everyone was talking about him, and everyone knew him, and, as stated with the aforementioned journalists, everyone wanted to talk to him.  He woke up every day to see news trucks that were local and ones that were very much not right outside his house.  He’d flown intangibly to school every day for the past month.
Ancients, all this fame needed to die down soon.  He wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take.
He was often so caught up in everything changing all at once, however, that he didn’t have much of a chance to think about things he might want to happen.  Which was why he was a little caught off guard that morning.  He was running from the daily mob of screaming girls who wanted his autograph (which was never something he thought he’d get sick of), and after getting at least a little bit of a lead on them, he turned intangible and dove through the door to the janitor’s closet, then turned back to normal and rested his hands on his knees, panting slightly to catch his breath.
“Uh,” came a very familiar female voice, and Danny’s head shot up.  He found standing on the other side of the closet the one part of his life that hadn’t changed.
And for a long, long moment, he and Sam and Tucker just stared at each other.
Danny’s feelings about Sam and Tucker had never been more mixed.  They really were the one aspect of his life that stayed the same post identity-reveal-to-the-entire-world, and he couldn’t decide whether to thank them for the consistency or be pissed at them for the audacity.
Because he hadn’t talked to Sam and Tucker since the beginning of Freshman year.
And then his secret was revealed to the entire world.
And he still hadn’t talked to Sam and Tucker since the beginning of Freshman year.
“Uh,” Danny said finally, because they couldn’t just all keep staring at each other.  “Hi.”
“Hey,” Tucker said.  Sam nodded in acknowledgement.
Really, guys.  Work with him a little bit, please?
“Are you hiding from people too?” Danny asked, pushing himself up using his knees.
“Yeah,” Sam said.
“I didn’t think you’d be hiding from anyone anymore,” Tucker said, and Danny didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in his voice.
“Um,” Danny said.  He didn’t seem to have any more words for Sam and Tucker than he had a year and a half ago.
“Danny!” came from outside the closet, and Danny whirled around instinctually.  “Get back here!  What makes you think you can run from me?”
“Hey you mind if I hang out here for a bit cool thanks,” Danny said, moving across the closet until he was right across from Sam and Tucker.  A second later, the door handle started jiggling, and Danny turned intangible, even though he could feel Sam and Tucker’s stares.
The door swung open and Paulina poked her head in.
“Oh, it’s just you two,” she said, disappointment obvious in her voice.  A second later, she perked up.  “Hey, you haven’t seen Danny, have you?”
“No,” Sam said, crossing her arms.  “Would you back off?  We’re trying to hide in a closet here.”
Paulina laughed.  “Sure, okay.  Have fun, losers.”  She slammed the door after herself.
Danny dropped the intangibility as soon as she was gone with a sigh of relief.  “Thanks,” he said to Sam and Tucker.
“Don’t mention it,” Sam grumbled, and leaned back against the shelf behind her.  “I’m surprised you didn’t want to see her, though.”
“Honestly, yeah,” Tucker agreed, giving him a weird look.  “Never thought I’d see the day you’d turn down Paulina.”
“It’s not that,” Danny said.  “I mean she… she’s not…”
The warning bell rang, and all three of them looked towards the door, where they could hear it outside.  For a second afterwards, none of them moved.
Sam did first, pushing herself off the shelf.  “Bye,” she said, starting towards the door.  Tucker followed her closely.
Danny tried not to make his deflation obvious.  “Yeah, okay,” he muttered.  He turned intangible again, and slipped through the floor, rather than try and go past them.
It was only when he actually made it to his homeroom that he realized he still had no idea why Sam and Tucker were in that closet.
“Hey, Fenturd— I mean Fenton!”
Danny heaved an internal sigh and looked up from his tray of food to find Dash and Kwan walking up to his table.
“Are these seats taken?” Dash asked with a grin, gesturing at the as-of-yet empty table around him.  He’d gotten to lunch early in order to try and hang on to one.
“Yeah,” Danny said to Dash, leaning over to rest his chin on his hand in what was intended to be a representation of how little he wanted them here.  “I’m holding it for all of the ghosts that are going to show up during lunch and blast you across the room.”
“Ha, you’re a riot Fenton!” Dash said, completely ignoring Danny’s tone and face and sliding into the seat next to him.  Danny cringed and didn’t bother to hide it, sliding as far away from Dash as he could.  Unfortunately, Dash just slid right down after him, which resulted in Danny nearly being pushed off the bench and Dash not noticing.
Kwan followed his lead and took the seat across from Danny, meaning Danny was forced to look in boredom to the side to avoid both of their gazes.  He waited a couple extra seconds, but eventually it became clear that neither of them were going to move.  So, Danny sighed, resigned himself to his life, and picked up one of his terrible school-lunch chicken nuggets.
“So, we were both thinking that maybe you could come watch one of our practices!” Dash called, slinging an arm around Danny’s shoulder.  “The football team’s, I mean.”
“Why would I do that?” Danny asked, making his shoulder go intangible just long enough for Dash’s arm to fall through.
“Well I mean, it would be neat to have you there,” Dash said, glancing across the table at Kwan.  “Right Kwan?”
“Totally,” Kwan agreed with a grin of his own.  “And I mean, you’re pretty good with athletic stuff.  You know, when you’re a cool ghost fighting superhero and not a weak dweeb.  Maybe you could come as Phantom, you know, show us some tricks!”
“Gee, that sounds great,” Danny deadpanned.  “So am I just supposed to ignore the insults in there, or…?”
“Hey,” came Paulina’s voice, and Danny turned around to see her walking up behind them all.  “Can’t you two leave him alone?  It’s clear he doesn’t want to be bothered by you.”
Danny blinked in surprise.  He really hadn’t expected Paulina to pick up on that.  Maybe she actually—
“He’d clearly rather be sitting with me!” Paulina said, reaching down and pulling Danny up by his arm.
“Okay, that’s it!”  Danny went intangible again and slipped out of Paulina’s grasp, then grabbed his lunch and walked out of the room, straight through the doors without bothering to open them.
He made his way out to the front steps of the school and sat down, and managed to get through at least a couple bites before he remembered the reason eating outside was also a bad idea.  The reminder came in the form of a reporter and a camera man leaping out from what he thought was a normal van sitting across the street.
“Mr Fenton!” called one of them as he ran up towards the steps.  “Or would you prefer Mr Phantom?”
“I’d prefer solitude,” Danny snapped, leaning back and away from them both.
“Oh absolutely!  Just a couple of quick questions first of course, you wouldn’t mind.”
The door slammed open behind them, and Danny prepared himself for Dash or Paulina again when, to his surprise, Mr Lancer stepped down the steps and stopped right in front of him.
“You’re on school property,” he said, crossing his arms.  “You have two minutes to get back in your van and drive away or I am calling the police.”
“Sir, can I ask, how long have you known that one of your students is dead?” the reporter asked, shoving a mic in Lancer’s face.
Lancer raised an eyebrow and pulled out his phone, then started dialing 911.  Thankfully, the reporters turned and ran back across the street before he could finish.
Lancer turned back around as soon as they were gone.  “Are you alright?” he asked, casting a concerned look down at Danny.
“Fine,” Danny muttered, picking up his tray and climbing to his feet.  “You know.  Great.”
Lancer looked at him for another second, then said, “Mr Fenton, come and eat your lunch in my classroom.”
“What?  Why?”
“You can sit out of view from my door,” Lancer said.  “It’ll give you a break from the crowds.”
Danny felt a knot in his chest loosen.  “Really?”
Lancer gave him a sympathetic frown.  “I can’t imagine it’s an easy thing to deal with all the time,” he said.  He opened the door again and gestured for Danny to go first, so he did.
And for the first time in a while, he ate his lunch in silence.
He wasn’t expecting to see Sam and Tucker again that day.  Most of the time his time at school was spent avoiding every single person he possibly could.  The morning incident in the janitor’s closet had been a once in a blue moon event.
But, as fate would have it, there was a ghost attack during the last period, and after going and taking care of it (just the Box Ghost showing up as an irritation), he landed behind the school to find Sam and Tucker leaning against the wall and talking.
And while he’d originally come back here to try and avoid all of the cheers he’d get going right back into class, he was sort of regretting that decision now.
Sam and Tucker were clearly deep in conversation, but they noticed when he landed right in front of them, and then they all got to do a lovely repeat of that morning’s staring at each other.
“Hiding again?” Tucker asked eventually.
Danny nodded.  “You too?”
Sam nodded.
Danny gave them a curious look.  “From what?”
“Danny!”
Danny groaned audibly this time, as Star ran around the side of the building and straight for him.
“That was so cool the way you just flew off like that!” she called.  “Not a second thought to how you might be putting yourself in danger!”
“Yeah, thanks,” Danny said, already starting to fly away.  “Make my excuses in class, will you?  Got to get this really dangerous ghost back to the portal right away and send him through to the ghost zone.  Great thanks bye!”
He flew off maybe a little bit too quickly for the given situation, but he couldn’t stand another second there, and school was basically over anyway.  He made it home pretty quickly, and thankfully wasn’t stopped by any news outlets on the way, though that was likely because he made the whole trip while intangible.
But while he made it inside without any fuss, as soon as he flew down to the lab he was greeted with his parents working on what looked like a weapon of some kind.
He winced.  He was never quite able to stop the touch of fear that came with his parents working on a ghost weapon.  After a second, though, he floated down to the ground anyway and changed back from his ghost form.
Both his parents startled and looked over at him.
“Danny,” his mom said.  “You’re back early.”
“Yeah uh, ghost fight in last period,” Danny muttered, heading over towards the portal and attaching the thermos to it.  “School was already basically over, so I just came home.”  He hit the button on the side of the portal and sent the Box Ghost flying into the portal, crying out dramatically all the way.
“Well that’s nice,” Mom said, the tension in her voice obvious.
“Yeah, uh, anyway I have homework,” Danny said, starting for the steps.  He had a feeling flying up through the ceiling wouldn’t be a great idea right now.
“Will we see you for dinner, Danno?” Dad asked.  “We were hoping to all eat together tonight.”
Danny tightened his grip on the railing of the stairs.  “Okay.”
He considered asking what they’d be having, but given the tension in the room he really didn’t think he could spend much more time in the lab.
So instead, he just said “See you later,” and headed upstairs.
It’s not that his parents had reacted badly to the Phantom news.  They’d done the important stuff, they’d given him a huge apology and stopped actively hunting him.  But none of them seemed to really know where they stood with each other anymore.  Danny didn’t logically think they were going to hurt him anymore, but it was difficult to get rid of that fear response that for the longest time, it made sense to have.
But at the same time, he could tell it made them feel guilty to see him be scared of them.  Jazz said it wasn’t his fault, and she was probably right.  But he still hated it.
He started first for his bedroom, and made it part of the way through the living room when the front door opened and Jazz sprinted in, slamming the door shut on nearly a dozen reporters.  Danny could still hear their voice through the door after it shut.  Some were asking how it felt to be the brother of a hero, some were asking how long she’d known and how she’d found out, and some were asking how it felt to know her brother was dead.
Jazz heaved out a breath, though all of the reporters were still easily heard through the windows.  Then she looked up and met eyes with Danny.
“Oh hey,” she said, clearly still exhausted.  “How was school?”
Danny didn’t respond, instead gazing out the gap in the curtains to the people shoving cameras in it.
“Sorry,” he said to Jazz.
“Oh, don’t you dare,” Jazz said.  “I know you hate them as much as I do.”
Danny sighed and looked down.  “Yeah.”
“Are you doing okay?” Jazz asked hesitantly.  “I’m sure it’s… a lot.”
Danny snorted.  “Understatement.”
Jazz smiled a little.  “Yeah.”
Danny turned to face her more directly, chewing on his lip.  He’d avoided the topic with her so far, mostly because too much was going on, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been desperately curious.  “Can I…” he said hesitantly.  “Can I be like one of those awful reporters and ask you how you found out?”
Jazz rolled her eyes.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  You’re not a reporter, you’re my brother.  And I know if I tell you it’s not going to end up on the 5:00 news.”
She paused, and turned and glanced out the windows for a moment.  “You want to go upstairs, though?”
“Yes,” Danny said immediately.
So they both ended up in Jazz’s room, sitting next to each other on her bed, with the curtains drawn tight in case the helicopters came back.
“I found out during the Spectra thing,” Jazz started.  “I spotted you transforming.”
Danny nodded, thinking about that.  “Okay,” he said quietly.  “And… why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wanted to wait until you wanted to tell me,” Jazz said.  She sighed, and glanced towards the windows.  “I guess that didn’t really work out.”
“No,” Danny muttered.  “But… I appreciate the sentiment.”
Jazz turned to look at him, concerned.  “Are you doing okay?  I mean, obviously not, just… you know.”
“Oh no, I’m fine,” Danny said, rolling his eyes.  “I always hoped that everyone would learn my secret in the aftermath of an exhausting battle when I was definitely not prepared for them to learn, and then I’d be hounded by literally everyone who suddenly feels entitled to my attention and my time.  Dream come true, this is.”
“I’m really sorry it turned out this way,” Jazz said quietly.
Danny sighed.  “Me too.”
“Is there anything I could do to be helpful?” Jazz asked.
“Do you know if anyone’s figured out time travel yet?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Dammit.”
There was a moment of silence, and Jazz said, “I mean it.”
Danny shook his head.  “There’s nothing you could do that you aren’t already doing,” he said.  “You’re not looking at me different.  Like your entire worldview’s been flipped on its head.  Which, I mean I guess for a lot of people it has, but… still.  It’s nice that you’re not.”
Jazz was quiet for a moment, and then she reached over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.  And despite how totally lame it was to hug his sister, Danny did the same back.
“Still, if you want me to stand in between you and anyone, just let me know,” Jazz said.
“I wouldn’t ask you do that,” Danny said, pulling back, though he was smiling a little.  “I can just fly away from the news vans, and go intangible to get away from the helicopters.  And Lancer already gave me permission to hide in his office during school hours if I ever need to.”
“Good,” Jazz said with a nod.  She paused for a second, and Danny got the feeling she was about to ask something delicate.  He was proven right when a second later she said, “And what about Sam and Tucker?”
“What about them?” Danny said, glaring away.  “We’ve said about ten words to each other since everything happened.  And about half of them are ‘um.’”
…Okay, so maybe he’s a little more bitter than he realized.  He sighed.
“I can’t expect everything to suddenly change,” he said, turning back to Jazz.  “Our falling out had nothing to do with Phantom.”
Or, it technically did.  Their falling out had been because he constantly ditched them and left mid-way through hangouts.  Because he was Phantom, and had to go fight whatever ghost had shown up.  But they didn’t know that at the time.  And it had been over a year since they’d talked.  They had probably moved on.
“You should still talk to them,” Jazz said.  “And I mean really talk to them.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t see much of an opportunity for that in between getting interrupted every ten seconds, either by classmates or reporters,” Danny said.  He paused, and turned to look at Jazz as a realization struck him.  “Hey, how are you doing with all that, by the way?  It doesn’t look like the reporters are leaving you alone.”
“They’re definitely not,” Jazz said.  “But I can handle myself.  Besides, they tend to leave me alone as soon as they see you.”
Danny smiled a bit.  “Glad I can take that off your shoulders for you.”
“Oh yeah, if anything you owe me,” Jazz said with a smile.  “After everything I did for you?”
“I think I’ve saved your life three times now.”
“Do my dishes for a month and we’re even.”
Danny snorted.  “Sure, you got it.”  He took a deep breath, feeling lighter than he had when he got home.
“Hey, thanks, Jazz,” he said, looking over at her.  “You’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”
“Anytime,” Jazz said, smiling warmly at him.  “I mean it.”
The next day didn’t start much better, with flying invisibly to school and hiding in various places until first period starts, but Danny found himself in a better mood despite it.  Talking with Jazz had helped, and knowing he’d have a quiet place to eat lunch helped too.
He still didn’t love being swarmed in the halls on his way to his first period after the warning bell rang, though.  Maybe he could use his well-established reputation for being late for everything and just hide until the halls were empty between classes.
…Or would that not work anymore because everyone knew the reason?
Well, he’d give it a shot anyway.
First period was uneventful, thankfully, aside from everyone spending the period staring at him while he was trying to focus, which was nothing new.  He could tell it was irritating both him and the teacher, however, because eventually he set his chalk down from writing math equations on the board.
“Anyone who doesn’t stop staring at Mr Fenton loses an entire letter grade on the next test,” he snapped.  “This is school, this is not your free time.  Mr Fenton, thank you for at least trying to pay attention.”
“Anytime,” Danny deadpanned, because he wasn’t about to turn down a compliment from a teacher, and he really was trying.
Apparently the threat of losing a letter grade was only enough to sway a couple students, though, likely the ones who hadn’t entirely given up on their grades like he had.
(Although maybe the administration would go easier on him now…?)
Either way, he managed to get at least some of the notes down by the end of the class, and going up to the teacher to ask if there was anything else he absolutely needed to have written down seemed to put him on his better side.  Being a teacher’s favorite was also something he wasn’t used to.
And as a second bonus, staying behind and finishing the notes resulted in a late pass, meaning he could wait until everyone had filed out of the hallway.
Or at least, he thought that’s what he was doing.
Instead, as he turned a corner towards his next period, he stumbled across Dash shoving someone inside a locker.  And instead of adding him to the bunch like he used to, when Dash spotting him he brightened.
“Fenton!  You want to help me stuff these losers in here?”
“Not really,” Danny said, starting over towards them to help out whoever he was bullying.  “You know, if you’re really trying to get on my good side, you might try—” he stopped as he reached the locker.
Well, apparently Dash really didn’t care about getting on his good side, because staring back out at him were Sam and Tucker.
“Uh, hey Danny,” Tucker said, waving at him from inside the locker.
Danny turned back to Dash, raising an eyebrow in what hopefully came across as “are you fucking kidding me.”
“Aw, come on, you’re not trying to say you still care about these losers,” Dash said, like the very idea was ridiculous.  “You can hang out with anyone you want now!  By the way, you’re still coming to football practice later, right?”
“Probably not,” Danny snapped.  He held a hand out to Tucker, who grabbed it.  Danny turned him intangible and pulled Tucker out until he could stand on the floor.
Tucker looked a little off balance after he let go, but Sam still grabbed his hand when he offered the same to her.
“Okay,” Tucker said as Danny set Sam down.  “A little warning next time maybe?”
“Sorry,” Danny said.  He glared back over at Dash.  “Beat it.”
“Aw come on Fenton, you know I didn’t mean anything by it, I just—”
“Beat it or I tell everyone about that time you wet your pants after I saved your life from the Box Ghost.”
Dash went pale, and then quickly left.
“Wait,” Sam said.  “Really?”
Danny snorted.  “Oh yeah,” he said, turning back to face them.  “I could tell you stories about what Dash is like when he’s in danger.”  He paused, looking at them both in concern.  “Are you guys okay?”
Sam glared away, crossing her arms.  “Fine,” she muttered, a note in her voice that Danny couldn’t read.
“Thanks for the help,” Tucker said.  And then they both turned around, clearly about to leave.
“Wait!” Danny yelled after them.  “I— please.”
They both turned hesitantly back around.
“We’re late for class,” Sam said.
“I’ll tell them you got caught up in a ghost attack,” Danny said.  “Just, please can we talk?  Just once, and then we can be done.  Okay?”
They both exchanged a glance, and seemed to say something to each other with their eyes that Danny couldn’t read anymore.
Finally, they turned back to face him, and they both nodded.
“Where?” Tucker asked.
Well, eventually the bell was going to ring, and then the hall would flood with people who wouldn’t leave them alone.  And if they went outside, they’d be met with a similar problem, just with the news crews instead of students.  And if they were going to pretend a ghost attack happened, they should probably go somewhere to make it at least a little more believable.
“How do you feel about the roof?” Danny asked.
“Uh,” Tucker said.  “Have you been there?”
Danny nodded.  “It’s… quiet.  Sometimes.”
They were both quiet for another moment, then Sam nodded.  “Okay.”
Danny started over to them, glanced at Tucker and said, “This is your warning,” and then grabbed them both by the arms, transformed, and flew them all up through the ceiling and onto the roof.
Tucker stumbled a little as Danny let go of him.  “Okay,” he said.  “Needed a different kind of warning there.”
Danny smiled a little bit.  “Be glad you’ve never fallen through the floor in your sleep.”
“That’s not really something I’ve ever thought would happen to me,” Tucker said.
“Tell me about it.”
There’s a couple seconds of silence, and Tucker and Sam exchanged another glance.
Finally, Sam turned back to him and crossed her arms.  “So,” she said.  “You’re Phantom.”
Danny sighed.  “Yeah.”
“Can I ask…” Tucker started.  “I mean what— like how did you become— it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” he added quickly, holding up his hands.  “You don’t have to.”
Danny looked at him for a second.  It was definitely the same question he was sick of getting from other classmates and the reporters.  But Tucker at least had given him an out.  And if this really was going to be the last time they talked, he wanted them to know everything.
“You remember the portal in my parent’s lab?” he asked.  “How I told you it just started working one day?”
Tucker nodded.
“That’s… not actually true.  I turned it on.  From… from inside.”
Tucker’s eyes widened.  “Dude.”
Danny gave a short laugh.  “Yeah.”
“What happened with the ghost fighting?” Sam asked.  “I mean did you get pulled into that, or…?”
“What?  No,” Danny said.  “I mean, kind of, sure, but someone had to do it.  I wasn’t going to let people get hurt.”
“But— you got hurt,” Sam said, gesturing at him.  “All the time.  We talked about it around you.  Back when— when we were still talking.”
Danny shrugged.  “I can take it.  Normal humans can’t.”
The phrasing seemed to throw them off, which was fair, but he didn’t take it back.  He wasn’t a normal human anymore.
“Still,” Sam said finally.  “You should have told us.  We could have helped you.”
Danny’s shoulders slumped.  “I know,” he muttered.  “I— I really didn’t want you to find out like this.”
“On the news?” Tucker asked.  “Along with everyone else?  Like we weren’t any different from them?”
Danny winced.  “Yeah.”
A pause.
“If I knew everyone was going to find out, I would have told you first,” he added.  “For what it’s worth.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam asked.
“It just… it felt so big,” Danny said, shaking his head.  “And I didn’t know how you’d react.  And… I’m sorry.”
Neither of them said anything for a minute.  Danny wasn’t sure what exactly they were waiting for, but eventually he had to help fill the silence.
“How long has Dash been bothering you?” he asked.
Both of them immediately looked away.
“Oh, come on.  You can’t make this conversation entirely about me.”
“We can’t?” Sam asked raising an eyebrow.
“No.  That’s not fair to me or you.”
Sam glared away again.
“Pretty much since everyone found out,” Tucker said a second later.  “I guess he figured he couldn’t mess with you anymore so he moved on to easier targets.”
Danny clenched his fists.  “Asshole.  I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Tucker said.
“No, I just mean,” Danny gestured vaguely with his hands, not sure what he meant.  “God, I’m so sick of him.  Of all of them.”
Tucker gave him a look.  “You really don’t like all the praise?”
Danny shrugged.  “I dunno.  I guess it beats being hunted.”
Tucker and Sam were both silent for a minute.  Danny looked at them for a second and saw slight horror on their faces.
Oh.  Maybe they hadn’t quite realized that part yet.
“You could have told me about Dash, you know,” Danny said, trying to stop them from thinking too much about that.  “I would have helped.”
“We… kind of didn’t think you’d care,” Tucker said hesitantly.
Danny blinked.  “What?” he asked.
“I mean, you are kind of a big deal now,” Sam said, gesturing at him.
Danny crossed his arms.  “I’m sorry?  Did you miss the part where I didn’t want to be?”
“No, I just mean—” Sam started.
“Yeah, I should go hang out with Dash, huh?  Or start dating Paulina?  Wouldn’t that be just great?”
Sam blinked at him.  “Would it not?”
“Of course not,” Danny snapped.  “None of them actually give a shit about me.   They all just think it’ll get them something if they’re best friends with Phantom.  They still don’t like Danny.   I don’t want to be friends with people who only ever see one side of me.  That—” he looked away.  “That already didn’t work.”
“Oh,” Sam said quietly.  “Sorry.”
Danny sighed.  “It’s okay,” he muttered.
There was another long stretch of silence.
“That wasn’t the only reason, you know,” Sam said.
Danny looked up at her.  “What wasn’t?”
“That we didn’t tell you.  Or— I guess I can’t speak for Tucker.  But it was just kind of embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?”
“I meant it when I said I noticed you were getting hurt all the time,” Sam said, looking down at the ground.  “You’re fighting actual ghosts, and I’m supposed to come up to you and say ‘hey Dash is being mean to me?’”
Danny stared at her.  “Sam,” he said.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  I would have put the ghosts on hold.”
“I don’t want to call you for backup every time I need help,” Sam snapped.  “You’re not like— my bodyguard.  Even if we had spoken in the last year.”
“Well, I appreciate the sentiment,” Danny said, because he did.  “But you— I hate it when you guys are hurt.”
“We hate it when you’re hurt too,” Tucker said, looking pointedly at him.  “It’s why we didn’t exactly love it when you pushed away while you were so obviously dealing with something.”
Danny winced.  “I’m sorry,” he said again.  “I should have told you.”
“Yeah, you should have,” Tucker said.  And then all of them stood there, none of them saying anything.
Tucker broke the silence again, this time with a sigh.  “But for what it’s worth?” he said.  “Thanks for saving everyone all the time.  And for recently, with that weird ghost king guy.”
Danny nodded.  “Anytime,” he said.  He didn’t have to tell them the part about how he thought he was going to die.  Again.
“And, you know, for what it’s worth?” he said instead.  “Thanks for trying.  While I was being an idiot.  Sorry I didn’t let you help me.”
“How about this,” Tucker said.  “We’ll be there to help you as Danny and Phantom if you kick Dash across the football field once or twice.”
Danny blinked, confused.  “Huh?”
“That sound good to you, Sam?” Tucker asked, glancing at her.
“Yeah, I wanna see that,” Sam said with a nod.  “And I’d like to learn how to kick some ghost butt.”  She smirked over at Danny.  “Maybe I’ll start with yours.”
“Wait, I thought,” Danny said, looking back and forth between them both.  “I thought we said we’d be done after this.”
“Are you kidding?  You think you’re getting rid of us again?” Sam asked.  “Now that we finally know what’s been going on with you?”
“Sorry, you’re stuck with us this time,” Tucker said, crossing his arms with a grin.  “Like we’re gonna let your total loser half go unacknowledged.  You can’t be Phantom all the time.  Sometimes you have to get teased for how much you like NASA.”
“Or get your butt kicked in Doomed,” Sam chimed in.  She raised an eyebrow.  “Sound good?”
Danny didn’t try to hide his smile at all, and instead he closed the space between the three of them and wrapped his arms around Sam and Tucker in a hug.
“That sounds great,” he said, meaning every word.
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mysillyside · 7 months
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I think I finally figured out the solution to the Ice King and Simon Trolley Problem.
Short answer: Give Ice King autonomy. Allow him to come to the decision that he wants to be Simon again on his own accord.
Long answer that's totally not a fanfiction outline:
In the Elements miniseries, Betty briefly tries to make peace with the fact that she is unable to bring Simon back and attempts to accept Ice King as he is. She doesn't end up going through with this because it is too painful as she can't separate the two in her mind.
But imagine if she persevered. Imagine if she came to love Ice King for who he is as well.
I don't expect her to force herself to fall in love with Ice King. But instead, much like Marceline, just be a supportive presence in his life, ultimately leading him to be a healthier person.
I think this would be good for Betty's own journey. In the actual story she spends every waking moment trying to bring Simon back and this ends up destroying her. She feels like she needs Simon to function, she cannot imagine happiness without him.
I don't think she should have given up trying to cure Simon, but I also think she shouldn't have let it consume her. In a way, I think the healthiest thing she could have done is accepting Ice King. It would have given her time to breathe and rediscover who she is without Simon while still being there for him at his lowest.
When she described spending time with Ice King as looking at her old life through a funhouse mirror, it was because she was expecting him to be someone he's not while failing to recreate the relationship she shared with Simon, instead taking time to find out what relationship she has with Ice King.
Betty wants Simon. So she settles with Ice King. Ice King wants a girlfriend. So he settles with Betty.
It's a transactional relationship devoid of love. This is why they didn't work out. The sad irony of it all is that I believe if Betty and Ice King allowed themselves discover what kind of a relationship they share and tried to get to know each other as people instead of forcing a romance- I think they would have actually fallen in love.
After all, Ice King's favorite princess has always been PB, because he's subconsciously looking for Betty, his (Simon's) princess. While Betty if she gave Ice King a chance and treated him with love and understanding, would probably realized how similar he is to Simon, in his own goofy way.
Something about the idea of falling in love with the same person twice in a different way makes me very emotional.
Of course, it wouldn't be perfect. I feel like Betty would definitely still be in pain. Even if she loves him, Ice King is still insane and unable to recall who he even is, and Simon is still gone. I feel like she would feel guilty. Guilty that she's able to enjoy life while Simon is still cursed, and guilty that she still wants Ice King to be Simon.
Ice King is not the smartest or most observent person, but we do see he's capable of having emotional intelligence when he's in a good mental state and when someone he cares about is upset, even if his understanding of things is pretty childish. But I do believe he'd realize that Betty is unhappy deep down.
I think he'd tried to talk to her about it in his Ice King way. I feel like she wouldn't want to discuss it with him at first, because it's just less painful to think of him and Simon as two different people. But Ice King wants to know how to make her happy, because she makes him happy. Finally Betty blows up telling him there's nothing he can do, that he's not Simon and since he doesn't even remember being Simon, so he should just leave it.
You know how in Simon and Betty's relationship, Betty always did things for Simon, to a point of sacrificing stuff to make him happy?
Well it's about time that changed. Have Ice King decide that even though he doesn't remember anything about being this Simon guy, he wants to find a way to remember. It's gonna make Betty stop being sad so it's the least he can do.
All this to say, Ice King should have been the one to cure himself, it should have been his decision.
The crown has always been such a clear addiction metaphor, so to have the addict himself, at his lowest point, decide he wants to cure himself because he is sad to see how his addiction is hurting the people he cares about- it's not only realistic (as change comes from within, you can't force it) but also really powerful.
I love the canon story don't get me wrong, but I always felt super sad that it robbed Ice King of his autonomy. It makes me sad to see how much development he went through only for him to cease to exist.
So yeah through some Prismo shannanigans, Ice King makes a wish to regain the part of him he lost, aka his sanity and memories as Simon.
This ends with the result of having him be both Simon and Ice King as the same time. And it's not the Winter King situation either, because he didn't cure himself at the expense of someone, it was a selfless rather then a selfish act.
And with that I have solve the Simon and Ice King Trolley Problem! They both get to exist at the same time!
*gets on my knees* Fic writers... I beg... Someone make this a thing...
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someonexsomeone · 1 year
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The Mask... Take it off
Title: The Mask... Take it off
Author: SomeonexSomeone
Word Count: 1.5k
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Summary: Ghost is finally home, and you want. to help him demask.
Authors Note: Did I come back after an unexpected 2-year hiatus just to post something about a man I only know from fanfiction? Yes, yes I did. Crazy bc I actually simp for Soap way harder and if he could only dick me down rq i would sure appreciate it thanks-
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His mask was always on.
You knew better than anyone it was a physical reminder of his guarded heart, the years of trauma and suffering he endured, the hope for himself to take whatever broken parts of himself he could and piece together someone who could help the world. Only getting thicker with each year, the mask was his reminder to protect those who needed it. Including himself.
Hard to know what a person is thinking without seeing their face, right? Simon Riley was an enigma.
But there was something in the way his eyes moved, the way they would follow as you walked around the room, carefully putting away his gear into a neat pile as he disrobed. Sitting at the end of your shared bed, he was a hulking specimen of a man. You couldn’t help but notice how his shoulders slumped forward in exhaustion, flickering to them for a moment before returning to your task.
You couldn’t look him in the eyes, not yet. That didn’t stop you from being able to feel them burning into you though.
After years of practice, he didn’t need to look to be able to know what button to press in what order, what hook to pull, what buckle to unsnap to free himself of his gear. He was meticulous, as with everything else he did, but his eyes were the only thing to betray his stoic personality. He watched you with a deep gaze as you silently took care of him like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t making his hands tremble the slightest bit. How long has he been gone? How many nights apart from you? And how long was he allowed to stay before his phone crackled to life and he was whisked away on another endless journey? You didn’t want to know.
Neither did he, to be honest.
His eyes were trying to catch every little detail into his memory so he could pretend your time apart didn’t feel as long as it did. Your hair was different, he noted, and your nails were painted a different color. He didn’t recognize the pajamas you were wearing, nor the new pair of shoes that were by the door. Changes, changes, changes. He couldn’t help but notice them. He faintly recalls a story he read long ago, about a painting that changed every day despite it being impossible. You were just as beautiful as he remembers, just…different.
Your mannerisms, however, were completely the same. You skillfully tucked straps away, folded his padded vest just so, and even carefully untied the laces on his boots so they could slide off with little effort. You were kneeling in front of him now, pushing the boots to the side, making sure to wind the laces together and place them inside so they wouldn’t go everywhere on the floor. Simon couldn’t take his eyes off of you, not for a second. How he had missed you. He felt like a schoolboy again, tilting his head softly to and fro in order to catch your eyes. To get you to look at him for a single second, to feel relieved that you were here and you were safe.
Your eyes trailed up from his feet to his knees and thighs, no doubt looking for any new or reopened injuries. Your fingers carefully skimmed behind them. Wary. His skin erupted in goosebumps wherever you touched. You moved up higher, gently moving over his stomach towards his side where his latest injury was. Without even looking at his face, you could see the flinch in his body as you grazed the stitches over his shirt, only recently been patched up. You leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his side, a silent apology (for what, he didn’t know). He almost smiled to himself. No doubt you were looking for anything he might have “forgotten” to tell the medic. Wouldn’t be the first time he hurried his own examination along to get the nurses to his teammates faster. After all, why waste their time on tiny cuts and bruises when he could simply come home to you and be showered in love and care he spent every waking moment craving. His hands were clenching against the blankets.
You continued on. Your fingers gently ran along his knuckles, gentle kisses of your fingers against hands that were trained to kill. That has killed. You didn’t even flinch, moving both your hands to his arms, gracefully sliding them up and up and your kisses continued on their trail from his injury. To his ticklish side, his rib cage, a cheeky one to his peck, and up and up until they reached the edge of his mask. His breath hitched. Years, he’s known you, and for years he’s trusted you. You know this. Know that this man trusts you with his life, a testament to the fact that you were one of the rare people to see his face (and more than once at that). But you still feel a little hurt when he flinches at your cold fingers sliding underneath it to press on either side of his neck.
Afraid. Closed off.
You gently nose your way up, running it along his face until your finally, finally, eye to eye. He’s hunched over so your neck isn’t cramping as much as you continue to kneel on the floor, and despite his large stature and the sheer predatory aura he emits without thinking, you can see his vulnerable eyes as they bleed into yours. You can see his struggle, the silent argument he’s having in his head to fight the instinct he’s carried with him for years and let you strip him bare. You press a gentle kiss to his cloth-covered lips, a silent acceptance. You love him, and will love him, no matter what. His lips chase yours as you pull away, his eyes flickering desperately for a second before he registers your resolve.
Ah. You want to help him.
Slowly, you lean down again, pressing your lips to the space at the end of his mask. Between his shirt and the mask is a sliver of skin that you greedily nibble at. He sighs, a smile sneakily tugging at the corner of his mouth. Little by little your kisses and nibbles push the cloth up, revealing more and more for your gentle kisses to attack. They’re light and delicious and Simon can’t seem to get enough, moving his hands to grasp at anything he can reach in order to pull you toward him in a desperate attempt for you to do more. More kisses, more affection, more love. More, more, more.
Your nose tickles his jawline, and he tickles you in return with his unshaven shadow. His breath hitches as the mask slips past his lips. He nearly doesn’t realize your lips attached themselves to his to replace the scratchy material that had just pushed past them. You kiss like you’re in a rush, a gasp of heavenly air after being trapped underwater for a second longer than comfortable. He makes a sound at the back of his throat that, should he have been a lesser man, he would have blushed at. He tries to desperately pull you closer, despite your body already being pressed against his chest, his arms nearly encircling your like a snake around its prey.
Once again you pull away too soon for his liking, leaving him breathless and wanting more. Your lips continue upwards, kissing his nose and the rosy apples of his cheeks as they are revealed. The room feels sweltering, but he can’t let you go. Not now, not after remembering what it’s like to have you in his arms. He has to close his eyes as the mask pushes over them. Your lips kiss each one before he’s able to open them again. You continue even into his hairline, pressing affectionate kisses there until the mask has been pushed completely away. It falls onto the bed behind him. For something that controls his day to day life, Simon easily forgets it in lue of bringing you back to his lips once more. You giggle quietly against his mouth as he attacks you.
Kissing you is like a fantasy he never believed was possible, and desperately, desperately, he wants to memorize each and every detail. He nearly eats you whole, and you’re nearly tempted to let him. He doesn’t attempt to stop the soft sounds that escape him as you once again pull away from him. Your smile is an easy Simon forgiveness pass. He can’t find it in himself to stay upset, especially not as you press one more kiss to his lips before standing, tugging on his hand in order to get him to follow you to the bath.
With his mask completely gone, you finally get to appreciate the small smile that morphs across his face, his adoring eyes saying everything you needed to hear. I missed you. I love you. Your Simon.
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masterlist  l  mw masterlist
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plutoccult · 5 months
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ALWAYS THE ARTIST, NEVER THE MUSE
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pairing: eren yeager x gender neutral reader
description: you know you shouldn’t have let yourself fall for eren, but you did anyway, and it only left you with nothing but hurt when you knew his heart belonged to another. after months of torture, you finally have the strength to let go, granting you the happiness you so desperately needed back in your life.
word count: 1.7k
also available to read on my ao3 here
author’s note: happy december? no, angsty december. this particular one shot is a little personal for me because it’s based off a final conversation i had with someone who i essentially let have hold of my heart for far too long and finally had the strength to let go of them a few months ago. he’s like jake gyllenhaal minus the age gap. i say this because he gave me the ability to relate to the moment i knew aka not being there for my 21st birthday! insane! i did however make it less personal by giving it some how i met your mother vibes, but there’s still inklings of my personal life in it. writing helps me heal and express my feelings in a way that i’m comfortable with, so i feel good writing this as part of my healing journey? corny to use fanfiction for healing, but to each their own. sorry if this is too angsty, but imagine how my life has been LMAO. anyway, big shoutout to my friend @toorubobatea for beta reading this. i really wanted her to read it before i posted it, so thank you queen!! and now i hope you guys can enjoy it just like she did! mwah! and i’m tagging @jeanboyjean since she so kindly asked me to <3
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you knew that the day you met eren yeager, your life would never be the same, but my god, did it your life turn upside down. pulled in so many different directions you couldn’t tell what was left or right anymore. you felt like you were losing yourself in the process, but you wanted more of him like you wanted to breathe air.
it was always a mistake. one beautiful, soul-crushing mistake. he’d lead you on with mixed signals and uncertainty, but you lived for the thrill because it was the only interesting thing going on in your life. it’s “for the plot”, as you’d always say. even if your friends told you a million times he was bad news and you would only get hurt in the end, you didn’t care.
he was just your friend, that’s what you two always claimed; just friends, but you always sensed a hint of a lie in those words. you couldn’t be just friends. not when he remembered everything you said down to what you had for lunch last week or that time your mother fainted as she watched you get stitches for the first time as a kid. not when he spoke to you everyday like clockwork, a routine that seemed to come easy. how could you ever be just friends? how could it not be more?
you were inevitably in love with eren yeager, and it crushed you when you realized he never once had those feelings for you. not only that, but he was in love with someone else; mikasa ackerman, his best friend since childhood. it all made perfect sense, and you wished you never met him in the first place. but even then, you couldn’t keep yourself away from him. as long as he didn’t know of your feelings, everything would be fine, right? oh, how you were so, so wrong.
you tortured yourself every time you spoke to him. you listened to him as he pined for mikasa, too scared to admit his feelings to her. of course you knew what it was like to be in that position, the one you wanted was sitting right in front of you and he didn’t seem to have a clue. it frustrated you so much, but even so, you’d rather have something instead of nothing with him. such a sad way to feel, such a sad way to live when you think about it now. always the artist, never the muse. constantly crafting for others, nothing ever created just for you.
you’d push those feelings deep down into the darkest pit of your heart, but no matter how hard you tried, it would all come back every time you saw his face or even thought of him. those thoughts of maybe if you were prettier, funnier, and just overall better plagued your mind, but you had to shake them away. one day, you knew, you’d ultimately become fed up and blow up about it. it was the only way you knew how, the only way you could be free.
so now here you were, sitting at your usual booth in your favorite bar—assuming it may no longer be yours after tonight—waiting for eren to arrive so you could talk. you assumed he could sense your seriousness and urgency when you texted him, but you figured so be it. one way or another, you’d do this.
he arrived like you expected. you refused to let him make you second guess yourself, so you kept your cool and acted as normal before you dropped the bomb on him. besides, the shot you took before he showed up was quite the help, plus the drink you swirled around in its glass now.
eren walked over to the bar to grab a drink before heading over to the booth, expecting you to stand up and greet him with a hug like always, but you remained in your seat, clutching your drink in your hands.
“hey, i got your text.” he said as he sat down across from you.
“i see that.” you reply. he noticed you were acting different, not like the y/n he knew. it was obvious you had something on your mind, and since he knew you so well, eren could sense you were going to spill your guts about something.
“what’s up? is something wrong?” eren asked. this was it.
“i just.” you pause. oh god, you were really doing this. “i just wanted to say that i’m done with whatever this is.”
he’s silent, he doesn’t know what to say. you feel like the words are all coming out like vomit. you almost wish you were spewing real vomit right now, but you weren’t quite drunk enough for that. you had to get through this hellish conversation first, at least.
“i’m done. i’m not going to make a fool out of myself anymore. i’m done trying. i’m giving up.” you say, tears threatening to stream down your face, but you fight them away. “i’m done exhausting myself of trying to be something i’ll never be because deep down i know i’ll never be yours.”
eren should’ve seen this coming. all those times you fell silent when he ranted to you about his love problems. you always wanted to scream in his face about how the one person in this world that actually wanted him was always right there, that it was you. even so, he could never give you what you wanted, and he felt like the worst person in the world because of it.
you wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t say anything. if this was going to be your final conversation, he might as well say something. “well, speak now or forever hold your peace because i’m clearly not holding mine.”
“i mean, it’s just not what i was expecting to hear.” eren finally spoke. “i’m just shocked.”
“trust me, i never expected to say it either, but if i’ve learned anything, it’s that i care too much.” you tearfully admit. “too much about you when i know where your heart belongs and it’s not with me.”
“i’m sorry, y/n. i never meant for things to get like this.” he said with sincerity, although you wondered if it was all a lie. “and you must know that there was never any hostile intentions behind any of my actions.”
“that’s funny. it always seemed like there was.” you looked down at your drink, quickly moving your gaze back to him as he spoke once more.
“no, you…” eren paused, trying to put the words together in the best way he could. even if he didn’t seem like it, he did care someway, somehow. “you’ve been there for me when i needed someone most and i’m really, really grateful for that, but i can’t give you what you want, and i’ve been unfair to you as a result. i’m sorry.”
huh. this really wasn’t what you were expecting. where’s the insults? where’s the twisting of your words? why is he actually being apologetic and taking accountability? you wanted to say this was crazy, but this is eren you’re talking about. you always knew he was too good. too good to ever be yours, even.
“you know, this is usually the part where you flip out and make it all my fault instead by calling me delusional and crazy.” you force a laugh. might as well laugh through the pain, right?
“i’m not gonna flip out.” eren said.
“why?” you question him.
“because i know i’ve done wrong by you.” he replied.
“well, that’s a shock.” you take a sip of your drink, tempted to chug it, but eren’s words shocked you into stopping the liquid from going past your lips.
“it shouldn’t have to be, y/n.” he frowned. “you deserve someone who won’t weigh you down. you deserve to move on, even if it’s not flattering for me.”
you set down your drink as you let out a sigh and briefly cover your face, rubbing your eyes before showing yourself once more. “i hate that you’re being so nice about this. i was expecting to yell at you or something.”
“do you want to?” eren asked you.
as much as past you would have loved to, you didn’t have the energy to be bitter anymore. “no… i’m okay. this is better.”
“you sure?”
“yeah, positive.” you say, followed by silence. there wasn’t much for you to say anymore, and you couldn’t beat on this dead horse any longer. it was time to finally say goodbye, no matter how much it pained you to do so. “um, i guess we should just end this here, huh?”
“yeah, guess so.” he looked away. this hurt eren too, but you both knew this was for the best. you’ll be thankful later down the road.
“would it be totally wrong to sneak in a taylor swift quote right now?” you ask, almost immediately regretting the question.
“no, go for it.”
“eh, maybe not. too corny.” you thought it would be best to keep those words to yourself. besides, it was too hard to pin it down to just one thing. he was worth a hundred songs, ones you may never listen to the same way, but that’s okay.
“she’s a wise, wise woman, you know.” eren said, a grin slowly creeping up on his face, despite the circumstances.
“yeah, she is.” you softly smile. at least you could end this on a little good note.
“goodbye, y/n. i wish you the best in everything.”
“goodbye, eren. i really hope you get her someday.”
and with that, you placed a twenty dollar bill on the table and left the bar, no longer claiming it as your favorite and leaving it to eren, along with your favorite place to sit. like with everything else in life, nothing lasts forever, nothing stays the same, and that’s okay. you knew that now.
it was such a strange feeling, having this weight lifted off your shoulders. you had been burdened with this boulder for so long you forgot what it felt like to be weightless. you were finally clean of eren yeager, light as a feather, but most importantly, happy, and freeing yourself of such delusions was the greatest gift you could ever receive.
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beesspacedotorg · 2 months
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Romance is Doomed (Lie)
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Summary: your parents tumultuous relationship has given you very little hope and expectations for your own. your boyfriend, Seungmin, seems determined to change that ... at least until he forgets an important romantic holiday. 4.2k
Warnings: angst. fluff. Kim Seungmin. porn. insecure reader. edging. no body type or pronouns mentioned. bad (?) parents. I wrote this based on a very sad conversation my parents had, so reader has mommy and daddy issues (double whammy). reader is insecure and at one point starts waxing poetic about being unlovable (????) but Seungmin calls them out on it so dw. This is my first time writing Seungmin so ... he might be a little ooc.
note: I don't really have an explanation for this. my parents made me sad so I wrote a fanfiction about Kim Seungmin to make me feel better. This is incredibly self indulgent, so if you don't like it that's okay. this is literally in my google docs as "This is for me and if you don't like it, sucks" so.
You know that it’s his job, so you can never get mad at him for it, not really. That would be irrational, and crazy, and you are neither of those things- or, not enough of those things to kick up a fuss. Still, when you hear him say it something in your chest pangs and you are left with a weird, hollow emptiness that you have no name for.
“Who’s your valentine?” Everyone is asking him, he’s an idol, it’s his job.
“Stay!” He smiles cutely and it squints his eyes slightly as he does. You can see his perfectly white and perfectly aligned teeth on your phone and you pause the video to switch to a different app instead, but your feed is perfectly curated to show you videos and pictures of your boy and his group, so all you see is him and that damned clip from that damned video.
You’re launched back to a conversation you’d had with your parents. It was in jest, you weren’t serious, but the tone of the day shifted drastically after you’d asked it.
“Mom, who’s your Valentine?” You were drinking the soda you’d just refilled and wincing slightly at the carbonation as you walked towards the car.
“No one, your Dad hasn’t asked me yet.”
“Dad, are you and Mom each other's Valentines?” He’s opening the door as you ask.
“No.” You can see your mom’s face fall, and for the rest of the day there’s a kind of gray cloud hanging over your parents. That moment sticks with you, and every year you think about it.
You and Seungmin are different though, you’re absolutely positive that he loves you. You’re absolutely positive that he cares about you and wants you around, you’re absolutely positive that if he wanted to get rid of you, he would. But he hasn’t, so you trust that he wants you around. But, this is his job. This is his job and you knew what you were getting into when the two of you started dating, so you can’t be mad at him, you won’t be mad at him.
-
“How are things at home?” You’re on the phone with your mother, you call her once a week. No matter what she’s put you through, she’s still your mother and you still love her, so you call.
“Oh, the usual. Your Dad is being. You know.” She sounds sad as she says it, and the worst part is that you do know. Crotchety and mean and in pain and cruel. So, you do know, and you feel bad for your mom when she says it. She is his wife, and he cannot spare her a drop of kindness.
The call ends, as it always does, with one of you saying something cutting and the other hanging up without responding to the “I love you” at the other end of the line. You look at your calendar. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and he still hasn’t asked you. Your mom says he might just assume that you two are each other’s Valentine’s because you’re together, you say that it would still be nice if he asked. Your mom tells you not to hold your breath. You tell her that you aren’t planning on it.
-
It took the two of you a while to get together, longer than it should have, probably. But, as in all things, you are naturally distrustful of the intentions of strangers, or strangers-turned-friends-turned-? so you avoided the topic any time he would try and hint at it.
“I have two tickets to the Giants game tonight!”
“Sick! Those are hard to come by, Seungminnie! I hope you and Jeongin have fun.”
“Well, actually-”
“Hey! Did I ever tell you about this thing I saw the other day?”
When you did finally stop avoiding it, he asked you why, and you told him it was stupid, and he said nothing can be stupider than the time he and Felix managed to over whip the eggs for their souffle pancakes, truly a feat considering the fact that the eggs they were using were cold.
“I like you a lot,” you’d said. “I like you a lot and it feels like the love I have for you is replacing the air that I breathe, and I know, one day, you’ll get tired of me and my sadness and my everything, and I’d rather not have to spend years of my life filling in the hole that you’ll leave with foam that’ll collapse come morning.”
He’d paused for a moment, and you’d looked at the ground.
“I don’t want you to get tired of me and leave. I don’t want to be afraid you’ll leave so I do it first and regret it days later. I don’t want you to get tired of me and stay only to make jabs at me until I am nothing but a pasta strainer masquerading as a person.”
He’d frowned at you.
“Do you really think that little of me?”
“What?”
“Do you think that I would walk away like that? That I wouldn’t put in effort to stay, or to make you stay? That I would hate you so much that I would share a bed with you and hurt you at the same time?”
“No, but-”
“Listen,” he grabs your hands, “I’m not entirely sure why you think the way that you do about these things, and I won’t promise that I won’t hurt you- I’m not that stupid. But I promise that I’ll try not to, that I’ll make it up to you if I do. But you have to promise me something too, okay?”
“What’s the promise?”
“Don’t think of me that way. I’m mean, sure, but I’m not evil.”
“It’s not that I think you’re evil-”
“But I’m the one doing those things to you, right? In your head, it’s me? Whether you deserve it or not, I’m the one doing it.”
“... I see your point.”
“Good, I was running out of emotionally intelligent things to say. If you hadn’t been worn down we would’ve had to rain check this conversation for another day.” You laugh at him and he holds your hand.
“Your whole speech was really poetic, by the way, how long have you been sitting on that?”
“How long have I been alive?” He laughs, because he was supposed to, but he places a kiss on your temple too. And there’s a moment where you think that romance isn’t doomed, and, maybe, neither are you.
-
The first time you and Seungmin have sex, you spend the whole time worrying if he secretly finds you gross and disgusting. Well, you try to, but at that point, he’s gotten pretty good at telling when you’re writing heavy prose in your head and he then does his absolute best at making you lose your mind with pleasure. He succeeds.
“What were you thinking about?” Is what he says while he’s testing the shower water to make sure it’s hot enough to keep you warm. You’d tried to find a happy middle once, while you were showering together (In the dark, because “your eyes hurt”. You just weren’t ready for him to see you naked.) and goosebumps had broken out across your skin almost immediately, you’d shivered so hard it sent your teeth chattering, and your lips had started turning blue. When the two of you got out and Seungmin noticed, he’d said that you two would just shower together at temperatures comparable to the lakes of hell and he’d get over himself.
You shake your head at him. He won’t like your answer. He asks you this often, when you shrink in on yourself, and when you tell him, he always looks a little sad. But you don’t like to lie, and it’s bad manners to keep things a secret from your partner, so you tell him.
“I was worried you thought I was like, I dunno. Ugly, or something.” He deadpans at you. You worry that he’s mad. He huffs and drags a hand down his face.
“I’ve never come so hard in my life and you think that I’m not attracted to you? I came so hard I nearly blacked out, came so hard I think I told you that I loved you and you think that I think you’re ugly.” You feel slightly chided. He grabs your hand and gently guides you into the shower.
“Just because you feel that way about yourself doesn’t mean that I do.” He’s looking into your eyes as he says it, tucking your hair out of the way because it doesn’t need to be washed yet while he reaches behind you to grab the body wash. You gape at him like a fish.
“Close your mouth,” he nudges your jaw shut gently, “you don’t want to catch flies.”
You have something new to think about.
-
241302 11:37 am
Seungminnie?
eunming
no
seunmind
no!
having trouble yoebo?
ah shit
haha! yoebo
-_-
what did you even want
I love uou
yoo
yo
Jesus Christ
YOU
cringe
:( 
-
Your boy isn’t one for romance and displays of affection, you know that. But you’ve had such an awful and weird day that you can’t brush off what he says like you normally would. It’s not even noon and yet everything that could throw you off the wheel emotionally has. Like they all took turns, throwing you off, dragging you back in, and repeating it until you were a nice, buttery consistency.
He’s busy though, work and schedules and being an idol, so you reply with your usual sad face and nothing else and take a nap. Naps always fix things.
-
241302 11:45am
jagi?
is everything okay?
have fun doing whatever it is then
i enjoy being around you most of the time!
-
241302 1:27pm
hannie showed me this video
well
he didn’t show me per se
he showed linohyung and i was being nosy
but anyways
it was this cat that was very small
has an outrageous win/loss ratio for hunts
i think you would like it!
it’s called a
sorry i had to ask hannie its name again
the black footed cat he says
-
241302 4:15pm
hihi
you havent texted all day
are you gaming again kkkk
i was going to come over but i dont want to interrupt
should i just stay and game with yongbokkie???
maybe if we play genshin i’ll see you
we can finally co-op!
-
241302 5:27 pm
ahh
youre not on genshin :(
are you playing something else
jagi?
hmmm
make sure you eat and use the bathroom kkkkk
you always forget when you get sucked in
-
You’re jolted awake by a very loud and rough knock on your front door. Also by the sound of your phone ringing incessantly. You answer the phone first.
“Hello?” Your voice is slightly panicked, no one ever calls you save for when it’s an emergency, so you’re half expecting someone to be dying or dead when you pick up. You’re halfway out of bed and scanning your floor for a pair of pants when the banging on your door stops and you register the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Did you change your lock?”
“Did I- Seungmin, what?”
“My key doesn’t work anymore.” He sounds like he’s pouting.
“The building changed it recently. Something about security measures or whatever.”
“Ah. Come open the door.” You’re opening the door as he says it, rubbing your eyes and blinking at him.
“Were you asleep?” He’s toeing his shoes off. He has something behind his back.
“Yeah.”
“Explains why you didn’t answer your texts, then. I got worried.” He kisses the side of your face.
“Seungmin, what on earth is in your hands right now?” He looks down.
“Keys and my phone.” You stare at him.
“The other one, genius.”
“Yes, I like to think I am. Thank you.” You keep staring. He sighs. He hands you a thing of your favorite candy with a note that says “more to follow” attached.
“It’s come to my attention-”
“Was it Chan? Or Changbin, this time?” He glares slightly.
“It’s come to my attention, and I realized this all on my own with no outside help-”
“Sure.”
“With some outside help-”
“Better.”
“That tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and some people enjoy being asked by their partners if they will participate.”
“Is this you asking?”
“I’m getting there!” He takes your hands the best he can while you’re still holding the candy and the note and looks at you again.
“I am sorry I didn’t ask sooner. I will ask sooner next year and the year after that and the year after that and so on and so forth. But!” He gets down on one knee. You kick him slightly with your foot.
“Unless you’re proposing, you better stand back up.” He stands back up.
“Will you be my Valentine?” You can feel your eyes water.
“If I have to.” You roll your eyes for show. Seungmin stands still for a moment.
“Is that how I sound to you?”
“Sometimes.” He raises an eyebrow. “Most of the time.”
“I am hilarious.” You roll your still-wet eyes as you open the candy.
“That’s not the whole gift.”
“I gathered, there’s a note that says so right here.” He huffs at you, giving you that deadpan stare again. He told you once that you’re one of the few people he’s met who can give and take his sarcasm in equal measures, you told him that was the nicest thing he’s ever said to you, he hit you with a pillow.
He doesn’t answer, instead he pulls you closer by the back of your neck and kisses you. Kissing Seungmin is always an experience, it always makes your head slightly fuzzy and makes your heart stutter in your chest. You think that if it was possible to die by kissing, you would’ve done it the first time you and Seungmin made out. As it stands, you just feel a little unsteady on your feet.
Seungmin pulls away and you catch yourself staring at his mouth, wet and pink and swollen just enough that it reminds you of when he had braces and his mouth was always slightly pushed out. He grabs your hand and leads you to your bedroom, placing his gifts for you somewhere on your dresser before he nudges you onto the bed.
“You’re so pretty, you know that?” His hands are winding around your waist, pushing your shirt out of the way, and he’s kissing you again.
“You’ve told me before,” you say it against his mouth, hands coming to tangle in his soft, fluffy, recently dyed hair and you can feel the sigh he emits from where your chests are pressed together.
“Can I compliment you just once?” You smile, cheeky.
“No. Never.” He grumbles something about you being impossible as he tugs your shirt off, leaning down to mouth at your chest. You tug his hair lightly and he shoots a glare up at you.
“What.”
“It’s not fair that I’m not wearing a shirt and you are.”
“‘It’s not fair that-’ Be patient.”
“I thought this was a Valentine’s day gift.”
“It’s about to turn into a Valentine’s day ungift if you don’t stop.”
“What the fuck is an ungift?” He shoves his hand down your pants to shut you up.
“You always have to be so difficult,” you interrupt his sentence with a choked off moan. “Can’t ever just be good for me, can you? Always have to fight me every step of the way.” You shake your head at him, denying it.
“Don’t lie, you’re doing it right now. You’re lucky today is a holiday, or I really would turn this into whatever the opposite of a gift is.”
The tone shift would’ve given you whiplash if you had enough mental facilities left to think, or if this wasn’t so on par with what you expect from him. Seungmin likes to keep you on your toes, sometimes letting you push without any retaliation, sometimes letting you get away with nothing at all. It seems he’s more merciful today, and you pull him close for a “thank you” peck that soon turns into something more.
“Seungmin, please-”
“Desperate. You’re always so desperate.”
“You’re being mean.”
“Am I?” The hand that’s touching you slows down and you whine at him. “Am I being mean to you?” He tilts his head to the side, falsely curious and fully condescending. He adds a fake pout for good measure.
“I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be apologizing after all. I should be nicer to you, shouldn’t I?” He’s cooing slightly at you, and you know he’s not being genuine, but you really just want him to go back to touching you like he was earlier, so you pout back and nod. He gives you a kiss on your downturned mouth and picks his pace back up.
Soon enough, you’re forgetting that he was ever being devious in the first place and then you’re spilling on his fingers. You’re brutally reminded when he keeps going, when he pins down your hands as they try to push him away, when he bullies his stupidly slender hips between your thighs so you can’t close them. It feels like your nerves are on fire, but at the same time you want more. You’re cumming again and tears spring to your eyes at the confusing sensation of too much and not enough and you can vaguely hear Seungmin mumbling empty platitudes at you through the sharp ringing in your ears.
There’s a brief pause where he shoves your bottoms and underwear off, mad about them being in his way, and then the confusing feeling is back again as his hand returns.
“Seungminnie, Seungmin, I can’t, I can’t.” You’re thrashing around hard enough that you’ve accidentally kicked the comforter off the bed.
“You can. I know you can. Just this last one, okay, baby? And then you can have whatever you want.” You know he would stop if you wanted him to, but you don’t really want him to. You want him to make you come a third time on his fingers and then you want to do it on his cock. His stupidly perfect cock.
Sometimes, when you’re busy waxing poetic about love and Seungmin and life, you think about how the two of you were most certainly made for each other. How Seungmin was made to fit you in all the ways that you were made to fit him and that whatever force brought you together made his cock with you in mind. The way it fits inside you and gives you that almost-too-full feeling without ever being too much always makes your head spin and you clench involuntarily at the thought of it even now. It doesn’t escape Seungmin’s notice, because of course it doesn’t, and he laughs a little at you.
He stops laughing when you come on his hand again, and eases you through it until you're twitching away from him and whining and then he’s kissing the space between your eyebrows and shucking off his own clothes.
You spend a minute just staring at him. He’s beautiful. You think he’s the most handsome and perfect man in the world and he has the audacity to walk around saying that he’s just “decent.” It’s moments like these where you finally understand what he gets all pissy about when you say you don’t like the way you look.
You’re drawn back into reality when you see him wrap one of his beautifully huge hands around his dick and you whine at him.
“What now?” The words are meant to be sharp but he’s too out of breath when he says them, so you brush it off.
“You said I could have whatever I wanted and I want your cock!” You sound petulant, even to yourself. “You can’t- Seungmin!” He huffs and drops his hand from himself and you can see his muscles tense with how hard he’s trying to give you what you want.
“Needy and desperate. You came three times and I can’t even come once before you’re begging for more.” He’s sliding into you as he says it, wincing as you tighten in sensitivity and stilling with the effort of not coming too soon. You nod at him anyways, finally agreeing to the things he’s saying. If he asked you to jump out of an airplane with no parachute right now, you’d probably say yes, as long as he would finally start fucking you.
“Mhm. Want you- want you all the time. Need you all the time.”
“Yeah? All the time?” His hips are sloppy and uncoordinated as he fucks into you, but you wouldn’t be able to handle much anyway with how sensitive you are, so you’re grateful that Seungmin has lost his composure.
“All the time.”
“Guess that makes you a slut then, hmm?” You huff, gathering as much of your shot coordination as you can to weakly hit him in the chest.
“No. Only want- I only want you.” He coos, softening.
“Yeah? Only me?” You nod. “Does that make you my slut then?” You shake your head. “No? What are you then, hmm?” You’re not sure, but you know that you love him, and the force of your love for him shakes every atom in your body if you think about it too long.
“I love you.” It’s all you can say, so it’s all that comes out of your mouth and Seungmin kisses your face because he can’t aim for a specific spot with how the two of you are moving and you know that he understands you because he always does.
“I love you, too. Love you so much. I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.” You let out a slight sob against his mouth and he shushes you.
“Pretty, you’re so pretty, baby. I love you so much.” He’s muttering it against your skin, hips meeting yours over and over until you’re tightening around him with an orgasm that’s almost too much to handle and he’s spilling into you too.
There’s a moment where the two of you just sit there, panting and breathing each other’s air, stuck together with sweat and cum and Seungmin’s dick that’s still inside of you and then your lip is wobbling and tears are spilling hot and fresh down the sides of your face.
“Woah, woah what’s wrong? My dick game isn’t that bad, is it?” You shake your head at him and tug him down for a hug. He lets out a noise as he’s flattened against you and his face is smushed against the bed. He has to move his head to the side to avoid suffocating, so his breath is hitting the inside of your ear and you move your head away because it’s very uncomfortable. He wraps his arms around you the best that he can from your position and when his dick slips out, you whine.
“Listen, I would totally love to still be inside you right now, but I think my dick might fall off, so just gimme a minute, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I thought you forgot.”
“Forgot- oh. About Valentine’s? I might’ve forgotten to ask you to be my Valentine, but I didn’t forget about the holiday. I was actually strong-arming Channie hyung into letting me skip out on our schedules tomorrow. I was- I am, gonna spend the day with you.” His voice is low because of how close he is to your ear, but yours isn’t when what he says makes you cry harder.
“Everyone always forgets.”
“Not me. Not me, baby. I have to live up to my title of most dedicated boyfriend, I can’t just forget about holidays.”
“Who even,” your breath catches because of your tears as you start to calm down, “who even gave you that title?”
“It’s not important.”
“Seungmin.”
“... it was Hannie.” You let out another cry, but you’ve calmed down enough that this one is for show.
“I can’t believe,” your breath hitches again, “I can’t believe you’re gonna leave me for Han Jisung, ace of Stray Kids.”
“Yeah,” he turns his face flat. “I am, unfortunately. Sorry to break it to you.”
“That’s okay,” you turn your tear-stained face to look at him, smirk stretching across your mouth, “I’ll just go and date Stray Kids’ best vocalist. Bang Christopher Chan.” 
“Yah! You said you stopped having a crush on him!”
“And you said you wouldn’t leave me for one of your members!” He huffs and hides a smile in your shoulder as he moves to the side of you to hug you better.
“I love you. I really do,” he says. He’s moved your head to the side so you’re looking into his pretty brown eyes as he says it.
“I love you, too.” You do, you really do. You hope he can feel it from where he’s touching your skin. You hope he can feel it even when he’s nowhere near you. He smiles at you, and you think that he can. You think that he knows how much you love him and he loves you with the same sort of ferocity. You look at him and you think that romance isn’t doomed, and neither are you.
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Small rant about Sans' character that no one is ever going to read and is probably kind of inaccurate, but I'm going to scream into the void nonetheless because why the hell not and I'm kind of bored.
I feel like the concept of Sans as a whole has been so utterly gutted by the fandom and not in the way you'd think. Not because of the AUs which are all so oddly Sans-focused (but at least we have Underverse which is actually pretty good) but in the sense of the people who claim to "actually understand Sans canonically" and "try to stay as canon as possible" while also equally missing the point sort of. Hence, why we have this long and overplayed image I'm sure everyone has seen a billion times:
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If I could lay some groundwork down, Undertale came out in 2015, nearly a decade ago. The internet was a different time and place then and fandom creativity reached new peaks that no one had ever seen before, and as a result, a lot of Undertale was exaggerated, changed, cut up, and then put back together. Why? Because in all honesty, Undertale was a really simple game with a simple premise. Sure there were bits and pieces scattered throughout, parts like who Gaster was, who Chara was when they were alive, who Sans is in general; all the typical fandom theory shenanigans we've come to expect in the recent years. And in that excitement, Sans became the staple of Undertale pretty much, or at least everything it represented. This macabre, yet adorably misleading game with funny moments and interesting think pieces that people are still speculating about. That's pretty much the basis of Sans. So I get why Sans became the quintessential poster child for such a subversively ambitious game. I get why, then, people try to showcase Sans as this badass God character who knows and remembers all of resets and cries over Papyrus and is just an edge lord in general. It doesn't mean it's accurate in the slightest, but I get the idea of it nonetheless. In the absence of content, and there's a lot of it in Undertale, (I mean, it took me 4 hours to 100% it in the Pacifist and Neutral Routes, and 5 hours to beat Genocide, including the times it took me to beat Undyne because she thoroughly kicked my ass and Sans as well) the fans filled those gaps with what they saw fit and what they saw fit was so wide and diverse that the gap overflowed and the game pretty much became unrecognizable.
And I (except for the truly questionable and gross stuff, you know what I'm talking about) love the fandom for that, I truly do. Just the sheer number of comics, spin-off games, AUs, art, and fanfiction that answered every question I had and more was and is impressive, but even so, there's only so much that can be done with the context Undertale provides us before the content gets...stale. Hence my point on why Sans' character was so exaggerated is because Undertale as a whole had been exaggerated and oversaturated and overplayed and generally...not what the game or Sans was originally. But that was peak 2016-2019, though, a few years ago. And the interpretations and eras, like everything, have changed.
Now back to my actual point. It's now 2024. The fandom has noticeably slowed down. All of the AUs and theories and fanfictions that were popular have either been forgotten about over the years, randomly rediscovered or still ongoing, or just abandoned entirely. The game has been pretty much combed through until every file has been cracked, every document leaked, and every secret discovered. It's like a picked over turkey at this point and a lot of the old creators have indeed left behind the game in pursuit of newer things, which is understandable. It's not the center of attention it once was and in that wake, we don't really have a lot of the same pillars in the Undertale community that we used to. And in this transformed community, we have the left over children, now young adults and teenagers, to pick up the pieces. And in that, Sans' character, as well as Undertale itself, has again, been reformed.
That was a lot of words. But I hope I at least set the center stage. My issue, pretty much, is that the leftover fans deem themselves as "above the cringe" the old fandom left behind, which, is fair enough. And in doing so, a lot of the foundation of the 2016-2019 Undertale fandom was kind of overwritten. No, now Sans is no longer this edgy, overpowered God figure ready to right the wrongs of the player, no, now he's this apathetic guy who doesn't care about anyone, including himself, and is only powerful because he cheated. And to be fair, I see some merit in this interpretation. Sans is in fact, a pretty morally ambiguous guy. He doesn't even attempt to stop the player during the genocide route until there's nothing left. He threatens the player on the pacifist route even when we pose no threat. He makes so many allusions about himself not caring about anything. So I get it. Everyone is tired of everything Sans-related. I was too at one point. But in trying to counteract this fanon interpretation of Sans, I feel like this new one is also semi-inaccurate. This new interpretation of Sans is meant to be seen as "mature" and "not cringe" when in fact, Undertale is and always will be sort of cringe. And that's OK! That's why I and others love the game so much, because it's not afraid of being anything other than what it is and what it claimed to be. It had a story in mind that it wanted to tell and it did so unabashedly. The need to separate Undertale and Sans itself from the cringe is so pointless and almost a little juvenile. And imo, even ruins the character of Sans himself.
Sans does care about Papyrus, so so so much. He reads him bedtime stories. He plays along with his illusions of grandeur. He calls out the player when he's killed, despite Sans having to remain objective as a judge. I feel like Sans not intervening in Papyrus' death isn't because he doesn't care, it's because his entire job is to act as a judge and in a position where he's mostly neutral. He knows the player has powers to redo and undo things, so thus, he gives us room to make those choices, for better or worse. He's like, the anti-toriel. He refuses to hold your hand. He tells YOU to make the right choice, and by you, I mean the player. And in that sense, I feel like that's not something a completely apathetic guy would do. Someone like that wouldn't even see the point of choices, of having an option. Someone like that wouldn't care about getting out of bed in the morning, getting several jobs, or telling a person with higher power to just engage with your brother.
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Like come on, don't say he doesn't put effort into anything, like he went out of his way to make sure Pap's Holiday party went perfect. He's constantly going above and beyond for his brother.
Sans has emotions and they're so complex and so well-written, but I feel like this counter-cringe culture of the fandom wants him to be this guy who's either too depressed or too lazy to engage with others, or someone who would simply shrug off the death of loved ones when we have proof that Sans does indeed try hard for Papyrus in the ending where everyone dies but his brother. It's an "oh shit" sort of moment when he realizes that Papyrus is the only person he has left and thus, he puts in the effort to be better for him. It's not that he doesn't care or see the point, he's just kind of numb at this point. If Papyrus dies in the neutral routes, you don't see Sans again until the judgment hall and he'll call you a dirty brother killer and tell you to go to hell. That's something someone who at least cares a little would do. He's not above insulting the player and he's not above getting pissed. I've never really seen him as a, "well that's that then," character when it comes to Papyrus dying, for me, it's always been, "I'm angry, but I can maintain my composure and still do what I have to do."
Even in the genocide routes, Sans wants to give up and do nothing. He wants to let himself die without much thought. But he knows that he has to stand between you and oblivion. It's another, "Oh shit" moment, but in the opposite way. He knows he's gonna die. But he still has hope. Not necessarily that you'll be a good person, but that you can try another way and make better choices. He embodies the same mentality Papyrus did at the beginning of the run, believing there's a better chance for another future where everyone can be happy.
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Sans isn't a nihilist, not all the way. There's still a chance, still a part of him that has hope for everything, regardless of the route. And should the Pacifist route be completed, you'll see that he's genuinely happy. He DOES care, or at least he's beginning to know that caring about things is ok and healthy even.
Ex 1: If you go to Sans' lab after completing a True Pacifist Route, you get this bit of dialog:
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Ex 2: Sans and Papyrus talking about a Christmas party they had on the Newsletter of the 5th Anniversary of Undertale.
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The strongest, yet most complex example of this that we see is that he upholds his promise with Toriel and will continue to do so until the genocide route at the very end because he wants to at least give us, the player, a chance. And even if it was a cop-out for being lazy, I believe that Sans legitimately believes there's a chance for us to turn around and be a better person, or at the very least, make better choices. We know that Sans is a person who doesn't like making promises at all, and even though he said that his threatening to kill Frisk is a joke, had he not made that promise to Toriel, I can't 100% say that he still wouldn't intervened in the genocide and neutral routes.
And if you think about it, Sans upholding that promise just makes me question him even more. Like, even if you kill his brother, so long as you don't kill everyone, he won't kill you just because of that. He sticks to his promise and his morals so much, even if it costs him everything because well, what type of judge would he be if he didn't stick to his moral code?
"If you have some special power, don't you think it's your responsibility to do the right thing?"
And by that logic, if he made a promise with someone, don't you think he'd feel he'd have the responsibility to uphold it?
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We also know that he makes an effort to give us updates on the Underground after we leave in the neutral routes because he still wants us to know, at least, the consequences of our actions, so it's not like he's just lazily letting us get away with anything with do (even if he does physically.) He still holds our actions above our heads. He still keeps his promise. He still knows that we can make a better outcome. And if that doesn't say anything about him, I don't know what does.
Even in the neutral route endings where things are objectively going terribly for the monsters with Frisk killing Asgore and taking the souls to leave the barrier, Sans still never gives up. Sans, of all people.
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And sure, Sans isn't a saint, not by a long shot, but he does have some moral weight in the long run, and by playing the part of a judge, he has a certain level of disattachment that's necessary when it comes to doing his job. Nowadays, I don't see the "fanon" sans that everyone loves to rag on, the one that's overly emotional and jarringly out of character, more so, I see everyone ragging on that interpretation, and then coming up with an equally inaccurate interpretation of Sans just not giving a shit and letting Frisk get away with everything just because he's "not emotional and only wants to be lazy, blah, blah, blah, nihilism, existentialism, it's more canonically accurate, unlike that CRINGE FANON SANS!" /or being a total unserious prankster with no other personality traits, and that's equally as jarring for me.
So in conclusion, I feel like "Fanon" Sans, the one where he's breaking down and sobbing over Papyrus and holding his scarf is just as inaccurate as the "more canon one" where he's apathetic and simply just not caring about his death, or at the very best, says "it is what it is." Sans is a character whose emotions aren't apparent, but he still does care in his weird philosophical way. He loves Papyrus and genuinely thinks he's cool. He's a jokester character who loves a good laugh and being laid back. He doesn't like putting in effort, but he will if he has to. He wants the player to make good choices, so he generally tries to stay out of the way to give us that freedom. Not because he knows we're gonna kill Papyrus, but because he knows we have greater power and wants us to use it to do the morally right thing. He isn't above doing morally grey things either, like threatening to kill Frisk in case they pose a threat to monster kind, but I believe even then, his hesitation to just accept a human in the underground is somewhat understandable given the oppressive tension between humans and monsters. Additionally, he does put in effort when it comes to caring about monsters other than Papyrus, Toriel, and even Alphys and Asgore, he cares about them all: (it's implied that he feeds the amalgamates in Alphy's old lab as proven by the same dog food we see in the lab being in Sans' house and Alphys even calls him a good guy because he helps her in the aborted genocide route ending, him telling jokes to Toriel and genuinely trying to bring some joy in her life even though she's a stranger and doesn't have an obligation to, even staying with her in the Ruins after she's dethroned in the Queen Undyne ending, him acting as the judge before Asgore and even being in such an important position requires you to have a solid sense of morality and conviction, his respect for Undyne as a warrior/leader depending on the ending and in the Undertale Newsletter, he makes an effort to score a goal for his team in Hocky, and Undyne of all people seems proud of him, and pretty much everything that has to do with Papyrus he's at the very least involved or interested in.)
My words don't have a lot of merit. I'm simply saying how I interpret things. But as a big sister, I see Sans as a good big brother who's not too involved, but also deeply cares about his younger brother and his friends. I get that stoicism and being "logical" and "cold" is the new trend and whatnot with all these edits of badass characters and longing for a time when everything was less...emotional, but in doing that, it shuts a lot of discussion about Sans as a person and his complex emotions as a whole. I feel like it's too difficult and kind of silly to chalk him up as either one or the other. I feel like there's a nice middle ground between the "cringe" fanon sans and the "cool, apathetic" canon sans that a lot of fans either go one or the other on. Anyway, that's about it for my rant. It's kind of nonsensical and a little hard to follow, but I hope I was able to get my thoughts across nonetheless.
I guess it was a big rant after all. Oh well. It is what it is.
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galvanizedfriend · 2 months
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Klaroline Fanfiction Masterlist
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It's been a minute since I last updated my masterlist so I decided to go ahead and start a new one. Yokan // ▪ Multi-chapters
. The Wolf Series [I, II, III and Outtakes - Incomplete] When Caroline wakes up shackled, powerless and very far away from Mystic Falls, she knows she's in serious trouble. But when a woman named Sophie Deveraux reveals the reason why she's been kidnapped and taken to New Orleans, she realizes things are far worse than she could've ever imagined.
[The Originals rewriting where Caroline is a witch and gets pregnant with Klaus' child. Seasons 1, 2 and 3 complete, season 4 coming.]
. Vice and Virtue [6/6 - Complete] As the second son of a Duke, Klaus Mikaelson has the means and all the time in the world to indulge in every manner of wild activity with very little respect for the regiment of polite society. That is until his brother decides he's had enough of his vulgar ways and gives him an ultimatum. Caroline Forbes is a young debutante in search of true love and adventure. Except her aunt wishes for her to marry a somber Viscount who's already buried three wives. When their paths cross, they realize they might yet strike a deal that could satisfy their relatives and benefit them both.
[AH Regency!AU inspired by Bridgerton and a dozen other period novels I have been reading lately.]
. Pedulum [2/2 - Complete] This is what Klaus Mikaelson knows: death isn't the end for him. From the moment he is brought into the world to his final shuddering breath, Klaus' life is pretty much the same as everyone else's. The difference lies in what happens after he dies: he goes right back to the beginning, a child in London with the memory of dozens of lives lived before. Nothing ever really changes, including the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he can never save Caroline Forbes' life for too long.
[AH/soulmates!AU with a slight magical twist. Technically a one-shot, chapter 2 is just an alternate ending.]
. We'll Always Have New Orleans [3/15 - Incomplete] Caroline wakes up in a world where everything looks exactly the same, only nothing really is. For starters, she's no longer a vampire, and no one else in Mystic Falls has ever heard of witches, vampires or werewolves - no one except for Klaus, who woke up just as human and twice as angry about it. Their search for answers and a way out takes them all the way to New Orleans, and Caroline could never anticipate how much this crazy fake world was about to alter her reality forever.
[Canon-divergence!AU. Set right after TVD 4x18.]
. Speed Dating [3/4 - Incomplete] Klaus is having a bad month, so Caroline decides it's a great idea to drag him along to a round of Speed Dating. Other men in the room do not approve.
AH/AU fluff that was inspired by an episode of House (yes, it is fluff, I promise).
. Gasoline [2/2 - Complete] "He doesn't apologize, of course he doesn't. He doesn't care. He calls everyone love. It's not meant to mean anything. Except it did, once, and it makes Caroline's stomach churn away inside, as she feels Klaus crawling underneath her skin like he never left at all. I've still got you."
AH/Band!AU. Two years after Klaus walked out on his band - on her -, Caroline finds herself in her least favorite place on earth - New Orleans. She really did try to stay away from him, escaping an event just to keep off his radar. He finds her anyway.
. Like It's Christmas Again [2/2 - Complete] As Christmas approaches, Caroline Forbes, a New York-based event planner, is sent to a quaint small town in Virginia to organize their holiday festival. But her plans are momentarily hindered by the presence of Klaus Mikaelson, the Mayor's brother and a grumpy billionaire lacking in any holiday spirit, who's in town to close the sale of his family's manor - the charming estate she was hoping to use as a venue.
[AKA that time when I committed Christmas fic. AU/AH inspired by a Hallmark movie, I kid you not.]
. Spin [5/5 - Complete] Since she was seven years old, Caroline Forbes has been preparing herself to become President of the United States. But before she gets to the Oval Office, she needs to win the election for senior student president at the prestigious Saint Sebastian High - which would be in the bag if only goddamn Klaus Mikaelson hadn't decided to run against her.
[AH/AU lovers-to rivals-to-lovers The Politician!AU where everyone takes school elections way more seriously than they should.]
. How Far I'd Go [2/2 - Complete for now] Set in TVD S6/TO S2. Unable to control Caroline after she turns her humanity off, Stefan reaches out to the only person he can think of for help.
[Slices of moments of Klaus in Mystic Falls while Caroline has her humanity off.] ▪ One-shots
. The Sound of Settling Klaus hates his job at Mikaelson & Sons. He hates wearing a suit. He also hates his brothers constantly butting into his life. Everything will be better once he gets his much desired transfer to the New York branch. Caroline Forbes is the owner of Mystic Café, and when Klaus accidentally wanders into her coffee shop, his whole perspective changes. [AH/Coffee Shop!AU where Klaus is a lawyer. Fluffity Fluff. Lots of Mikaelsons and some Carenzo friendship.] . The Witch Queen Caroline always knew she was different. She was keyed into her own otherness very early on. Strange things happened around the Forbes women. Her mother never really had to spell it out to her, give it a name. Caroline could always sort of feel it, and then at some point the feeling blossomed into comprehension, and comprehension hardened into fact. And with that came an altogether different kind of certainty: this was not a secret she'd be able to keep forever. One day, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, everyone would find out. And when they did, they would come for her.
. Worst Things Have Happened Klaus Mikaelson is a prince with a very dark secret that threatens to destroy his family's legacy. Caroline Forbes is a sorceress whose job is to make sure his secret remains buried. But would it hurt him to put some clothes on? [Royal!AU, with a magical twist.] . The Unexpected Grace of Falling Apart The whole incident was bound to go down as a funny anecdote to be shared among friends, a Oh, you think you've had the worst hook-up ever? Hold my beer kind of story. Provided, of course, that she never had to see him ever and could just wipe him out of her life and memory for good. Given that they live in different time zones, it shouldn't be too much of a hassle.
That is precisely why Caroline is livid when she emerges from the arrivals area at Richmond airport to find Douchebag, in the flesh - sunglasses indoors and all, like the proper jerk that he is - holding up a sign that readsClarisse.
[AH/AU. It's Tyler's wedding weekend and Caroline is back in Mystic Falls for the first time after the most traumatic and depressing year of her life. And it's about to get even worse as she's made to share breathing space with Klaus, The Worst Guy Ever. Except they might have to join forces to save the wedding, and to the discovery that things might not be what the seem. As Caroline teeters on the edge of a breakdown she'd been trying very hard to conceal, an unexpected savior appears to help her through the haze.]
. love, the monster's got me now [Canon compliant. Set in TVD S03E09 Homecoming.]
"Don't run," he says calmly, sounding almost bored, but with a clear warning. "I'm in the mood for a chase. Little spoiler: you can't outrun me." His eyebrows twitch up when he finally turns around to face her, lips curling into an amused grin. "Tyler's girl," he states, gesturing towards the now empty yard. "You missed out on the celebrations, I’m afraid."
[Or: the missing Klaroline scene between "There's your pretty little girlfriend, Caroline" and "There's a whole world out there waiting for you." Klaus and Caroline meet after Homecoming.]
. When It's Gone Suddenly, Caroline hates how nice the bed feels. How soft the pillows are. How smooth and cool and expensive those goddamn sheets are against her skin. She hates the giddiness in her belly, like she's a stupid schoolgirl when she's not allowed to be one anymore. She hates how right the space between Klaus' arms felt, how easily she molded against him. His lips were as full and as soft as they looked, but his hands were gentler and more reverent than they had any right to be, and Caroline hates it. Hates it, hates it, hates it. She hates that it suits her, hates that she wants it, hates that none of it is hers to keep.
[Set after TVD S04E19 Pictures of You. Caroline hears about Klaus' impending departure after a mysterious letter and decides to have some words.] . Wishing Each Sigh Might Be the Last The first time she sees him, Caroline thinks he's an angel.
[Set in 1800s New Orleans. As Caroline lies dying, she prays for God to send help or end her torment and save her soul. She thinks an angel has come for her. But he's no angel at all.] . Feel the Madness Closing In Set in TO S3. Caroline is in New Orleans when Lucien and the Ancestors make a move against the Mikaelson family - and they know exactly who to target in order to get to Klaus. Paranoia sets in, sending him to a very dark place, and Caroline finally learns the price of being loved so profoundly by a monster. . Issues When Klaus' Hollywood career takes a down turn after a nasty divorce and a viral mug shot, his manager decides his life is not yet miserable enough, bringing in a PR company famous for its high-profile damage control cases.
[AH!AU where Klaus is a problematic movie star and Caroline is a PR agent with no time for his BS.] . Urban Legend "I hate myself for saying this, but I have to agree with Little Miss Sunshine," Caroline cuts in. "This is Whitmore. Nothing ever happens here. Least of all a possession that leads to a massacre of slasher movie proportions."
"Thank you, love," Klaus returns brightly. "Very flattering to be validated by you."
"Bite me, Klaus."
"Find me later, after my shift, and we can see to it," comes the shameless rejoinder.
[Or: Caroline tries to navigate life in college having the worst roommate ever, a douchebag who cannot take a hint and a nosy journalist whom she's definitely not attracted to. Never in a million years.]
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shou-jpeg · 7 months
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-Back on the Beat-
Part 4. 06
One year later
November 19th, 9:50pm 
Kim hits a high note and the crowd goes wild. 
He’s sweaty and high on adrenaline, approaching the end of his largest show yet. 
It’s only a few hundred people, but it’s also a sold out show, and Kim still feels a little overwhelmed with that knowledge.
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Porchay is in the crowd. 
He had walked into their apartment five weeks ago and announced to Kim that he was going to celebrate the end of his first year of university by devoting himself wholly to being WiK’s #1 fan; a job he then applied himself to with as much, if not more gusto than he applied himself to studying medicine. 
He looks ridiculous right now, dressed head to toe in unofficial, homemade WiK merch. He’s also holding a handmade sign above his head and Kim has to stop himself from smiling like an idiot every time he looks over at him so his fans don’t start rumours.
They'd agreed to keep their relationship on the down-low, for now. Only while Kim builds his audience, since being single sells.
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He holds Chay’s gaze throughout the entirety of the song they wrote together and the people around Chay are definitely noticing. Kim isn’t doing a very good job at being subtle, he thinks.
Oh well. 
He’s exhausted, but he raises his arms over his head and makes a heart with his fingers to thank his audience as he closes the set. The crowd goes wild once more and Chay is giggling into his hand over something.
He’s so cute. 
He’s probably laughing at Kim though, Kim thinks warily. 
~~~
A few days later, Chay announces that a photo of Kim from his concert is going viral on twitter and is doing wonders to boost his popularity both nationally and internationally. Something about people thinking he’s cute?
Kim considers how much he can press and the wary way the bodyguards back at the compound look at him when he walks past. 
He’s definitely not cute.
Porchay won’t let him see his phone though, and he can't be bothered to check himself.
Whatever. So long as it’s getting him good reviews.
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May 23rd, 6:05pm - a few months earlier
“I think Jimbo likes you more than me now.”
Porchay scoffs. “That’s just because I’m the one who feeds him most of the time. You’re always out these days, being all popular and in demand. What will we do when you become proper famous?”
“You don’t like having a popular boyfriend?” Kim pouts, turning to look at Porchay from where he lies on the bed, watching him play with their cat. Porchay only moved in last week, yet he’s taken on being a cat parent like nothing else. Kim has barely even cleaned the litter this past week. It’s been a weird disruption to his daily routine, but it has given him a lot less to worry about with his increasingly erratic schedule. 
He released the song they wrote together last month and it hit the national top 10. He’s had three different studios reach out, wanting to sign him. 
Kim tries not to think about it too much; it’s too overwhelming, how good he feels about it. The bars he usually performs in are starting to become too small for the crowd that he draws. 
He should probably hire a manager. 
Porchay looks up at him. “P’Kim as your biggest fan, I could not be more thrilled to be dating my idol. It’s like I’m living inside of a fanfiction.”
Kim hums, hesitant.
“Does that mean we get to live happily ever after?”
It’s way too soon, they’ve only been together six months. Kim was ready to spend his life with Chay from the moment Chay unblocked him, but he’s pretty sure there are rules around these things. 
Kim isn’t good at this. Porchay told him so himself… though he was smiling at him fondly when he did. 
He’s smiling that same smile at him again now. 
“Yeah,” Chay says, soft. “We get to live happily ever after, p’Kim.”
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February 10th, 9:28am
“I want to study medicine.”
Porsche looks at him with almost comical surprise, and Porchay tries not to laugh at his expression.
They’re out at their new weekly brunch date together, and Chay has been waiting for the right moment to bring this topic up. He’s spent a lot of time over the past few months, both on his own and with Kim’s help, figuring out what he wants to do with his future. He’s feeling pretty confident in his choice, but he hasn’t even begun looking at universities yet and enrollments are coming up soon. 
“I’m not sure what field I want to specialise in yet, but I’ve thought a lot about it and medicine feels like the right direction for me. I should have at least a year of classes before I have to choose my field - I want to feel it out a little and see what feels right for me. I was hoping you could help me look at university courses?”
Porsche puts his fork down and settles back, serious but obviously trying to hold back his glee. “Of course, Chay. We can get you into any university you want.”
“No!” Chay interrupts him, “I want to get in on my own merit. I only want help finding a good course… please…”
Porsche smiles at him, big and wide and happy. “You can do it! Come around here, let’s start now!”
Chay gets up and moves around to join Porsche on his side of the table, bringing his phone with him. 
“Okay, so I’ve already been looking at a couple courses. Tell me what you think, hia…”
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February 6th, 11:39pm
“What about some sort of doctor?”
Porchay looks up at Kim. 
They’ve been going through lists upon lists of career ideas and quizzes and self help guides. It’s been nearly four hours and Porchay really shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was with the seriousness and intensity at which Kim approached the task. 
Kim loves solving cases and sorting through things. It’s something Porchay discovered recently, and even though the topics themselves sometimes aren’t so cute, the way Kim gets when he has something to solve in front of him definitely is. 
He reaches over to smooth the little furrow between Kim's brows. “What kind of doctor?”
“I don’t know. You said before that you wanted to do something to help people, but didn’t put your own self at risk.” He's right, but it’s also a little left field. All the results from Porchay’s quizzes have pointed him in the direction of something creative, and they haven’t done much research outside of creative careers yet. 
Doctor. 
Porchay thinks about Porsche and his new, scary job. He thinks about Kim and his tendency to push himself too hard. 
He thinks about Khun, and Kinn and all the bodyguards.
Doctor. 
Yeah. Something about that feels right.
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January 26th, 10:45am
It’s their two month anniversary and Porchay is nearly jumping on his heels as he waits in the lobby of Kim's building. Kim approaches slowly, trying to look cool and not at all as nervous as he feels inside. 
Chay has been secretive about today, only telling Kim to keep his schedule completely clear. He's been distracted every time they've seen each other over the past couple of weeks abd Kim has had to put a surprising amount of effort into not trying to suss out what Chay has been planning for them. 
An effort that proved even more challenging when Khun's crytic texts began rolling in even couple of days.
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Of course it turns out Khun was on the money with everything. As usual.
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“You never use it, so I stole it back the other week and made you this.”
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November 28th, 10:35am 
“I’m a little nervous.” Chay is sitting across from him, boba tea in hand and a light flush to his cheeks. 
They’re at their usual boba tea spot, but it’s also their first date.
Kim is feeling the same. 
“Mmmm.”
Chay laughs at him lightly. “P’Kim! Are you nervous too? You’ve hardly said anything since we got here.”
Kim takes a moment to consider, looking up from his tea at Chay’s slowly growing smile. 
“...mmmm.” Chay laughs loudly enough that a few people around them turn in their direction. Kim smiles. 
Success.
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THE END
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milksuu · 2 months
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I LOVE UR WRITING!! u are carrying the heartsteel fanfiction community rn. but i have two words for you
submissive ezreal.
if you are willing i am begging for a fic 🙏
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❥ prompt: Ezreal wants to always get his way. You're not letting that happen. ❥ content/warnings: nsfw (18+), mdni ❥ characters/pairings: Heartsteel!ezreal x gn!reader
an;; sorry if this isnt very long! kinda just a blurbo nsfw, lol. hope ez is sub enough ahhh &lt;3
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╰ Ezreal has always been the center of attention, basking in the light of his admirers. For a moment, he thought you weren't any different. And just like the rest of them, he would have you eating from the palm of his hand. Catering to his every whim and desire; all it ever took was a charming smile. He really did feel like royalty at times. At least, that's what you made him think for a while.
╰ It's all fun and games until the doors close and lights turn off. Then you have him quivering in your touch. Kissing, teasing, touching him until he can't stand it. Practically on his hands and knees, making him fall from grace. From prince to your prisoner. Begging, whining, pleading for you the two of you to have sex and for him to cum inside you. It's cute how delusional he always became.
╰ Only when he's practically in tears and sobbing do you take pity on the spoiled prince. You give him exactly what he deserves. And you get exactly what you want. He whimpers against your mouth. Fisting knots into your shirt. "Mnnh, no. Please, I don't wanna cum like this." You don't let him indulge in his own tantrum. You give a reprimanding squeeze to his cock, forcing his body to jerk. He moans loudly instead, muffled by your tongue lapping inside his mouth. It was one of the only ways you could make him stay quiet.
╰ You keep stroking him, over and over. Despite his whines. Despite his protests. And they're all empty pleas; he's practically shoving his cock through your hands, drenching himself in his own pre-cum. "No—C'mon. S-Seriously," he moans between your breathy kisses. His pitch trembling from how good he feels. "Please, just—just let me cum inside—" One final, overstimulating squeeze, and he ruts himself deeper in your touch. He breathes out one last oh fuck me, before he trembles, moans, and reaches his climax. He buries his flushing face in your neck as you keep milking him from base to tip. And you make sure his sticky load makes a gushing mess out of his stomach and chest.
╰ After you clean him up, he continues to whine about how 'totally unfair' you were being the entire time. You merely chuckle, kissing him lovingly across his soft jaw line. He's even cuter when he pouts. Not that you need to remind him. "Can't always get what you want, your highness." He puffs his cheeks and crosses his arm at the comment. "N-Not funny."
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