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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

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Omg I'm SO sorry!!! I'm the soulmates pain AU anon, I was completely aware you were the one with the milestone!! I saw the post through Molly's rb and I was almost completely sure I had opened your blog to send you the ask but alas, the Tumblr app can never give you any certainties. That long-ass message was completely dedicated to you, I still can't quite grasp how I managed to send it to scribbledghost 🙄🙄🙄 Sorry!!! Congrats again, I love you!!!!

for reference a Din Djarin x reader soulmate request where your soulmate feels your injuries and pain

hello, dear heart!

I wanted to say, before anything else, thank you. I've reread your words multiple times since you sent this, confirming they were to me, and they really mean the world to me. thank you so, so much! anyway, your idea is fantastic, I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope you like seeing what I did with your already wonderful thoughts 💕

ps it's well documented that I'm a big fan of sprawling thoughts, so please never apologize for sharing them!

warnings: mentions canon-typical injuries, a bunch of fluff. at least enough for a couple of throw pillows

soulmate requests / follower celebration

There's a short burn on his forearm when he wakes.

Din stares at it, wondering at the dull ache, trying to place the injury from yesterday's adventure when it hits him. Hot and golden warmth, flooding through his chest, thawing his flesh against the cold filtered air.

It's one of yours.

A burn, on his forearm.

And selfishly, indulgently, he pauses for a moment, mind slipping away from duty and expectations to dwell in the daydream of his soulmate.

First, his mind creates an image of a blurry mandalorian caretaker, gently moving around a kitchen in the covert. You stir a pot, tapping the spoon on the side before setting it down. Hearing distant calls, you turn too quickly and oh - a sliver of burn along your arm.

Din wants to help, wants to pull you away from the domestic .... danger, and he rushes forward. Your helmet turns to him and he almost sees it - before his mind can no longer produce the answers he aches for late at night.

The second image is of you, in armor as gleaming as his own, in a thick, unrecognizable forest. The hairs on his neck are at full attention, already subconsciously wanting to shout - but you don't need his help. You're breathtaking in all versions of his daydream - but watching you fight with practiced ease punches the air from his lungs. For a moment he feels self-conscious of his awkward maneuvers and slapdash fighting but then his mind pulls him back. You're protecting someone, or else you wouldn't have messed up - you never do, injuries from you are too rare - but you shove them behind you, shooting an enemy over your shoulder before your helmet snaps back. There are so many - you're surrounded - and a hot, sharp blaster bolt grazes your forearm before your fury is truly unleashed.

He runs his fingers over the burn, almost giddy at the possibilities.

Mandalorians are few and far between, but he's grateful he has a soulmate, and even more thankful you've kept yourself out of harm's way almost entirely, since you'd been connected.

As he dons his layers, the shine of his armor reflects bruises and scrapes littered across the expanse of his skin. His own, from his journey, and one beautiful little burn from his soulmate.

And then they're covered, and the armor is tied securely in place, and he leaves his daydreams in the room as the ship door slides unceremoniously shut.

You hiss at the burn, clutching your arm.

Great. Just what you needed - another injury to add to your impressive collection.

At least my soulmate gets a gift from me this time. You roll your eyes.

The vendor next to your stall is a sweet lady, already apologizing for her steaming pots and pans and offering you compensation.

The credits would be nice, but you could hardly justify taking anything, especially since it was your soulmate's fault your body was riddled with aches and pains in the first place.

Waving your hand, you accept her counter offer - a bowl of her perfect broth and noodles - before retreating. You sell cloth, from beautiful dyed lengths tucked away to sturdy, unstainable blacks, and it was days like today that you thanked your stars for that choice.

There's a thick pile in the middle that you perch on, sinking into the folds as your body cries at you, and you sigh over your soup in relief. The burden of waking to webbing bruises and sprawling scrapes and the more-than-occasional broken bone is eased by your stall - sitting and haggling until the sun goes down. That is, unless there's drama in the market, as it seems there is today.

In the distance you hear shouts, more than those of vendors selling meat on sticks to passing warriors and merchants - the taunts of drunkards.

Someone is coming, and you almost laugh when you see his form in the distance, because he's trying and failing to be inconspicuous. It's impossible, with his gleaming armor, but still he ducks into shadowy spots, forgetting - or maybe ignoring - their inhabitants.

"A Mandalorian has graced our market," your neighbor remarks dryly. They were respected, but it was well known that chaos followed them. You share a look, both wishing you were wealthy enough to conpletely pack up shop. If anything, a logical person would put away most of the stock and hunker down for a few hours. Weighing the odds was difficult: if you were lucky, the chaos wouldn't bother your business, and shoppers might be drawn out, hoping for entertainment and spending as they waited. If you weren't, a wayward burst of plasma or blaster fire would destroy your whole month's stock.

You looked at him again, the Mandalorian kneeling down the street. His form was... almost handsome, formidable but careful. He was light on his feet, seemingly with gentleness on his mind, and it drew you in like a moth to flame. You decided to stay, and hope for the best, your curiosity pulsing like your bruises.

And you were lucky, that day, because he ducked away not a moment later, taking the exciment with him.

Until, he came back the next day, this time on the prowl, stalking up and down the edge of Dicer's Row, one hand on his blaster and the other atop a bulky, wriggling bag. This time, you ventured to stand, folding and refolding your displays as you watched him through your lashes.

And then he made his move, and you sighed, feigning a yawn to cover your disappointment from your neighbor's knowing smile. She shouldn't be wiggling her eyebrows over the box wall between you - honestly his type were more annoying than anything. A crash from the alley confirmed it: there was no way a guy like that cared about his soulmate. The gentleness from before was surely a trick of the light.

Your whole side lit up with pain, the impact of something hard against your whole side and you groaned, settling into your mound again. Any curiosity or attraction was snuffed under your annoyance and pain, and your mood soured like fruit left unpicked on the tree.

Selfish, you thought, glaring as a chicken ran squawking from the commotion. What a jerk.

The next day, you tried to maintain the sentiment, huffing as he wandered the stalls.

Why does he keep coming back?

You'd have thought his time here was over when he'd dragged that lowlife out of town yesterday. But here he was, buying a crock of soup at the stall next to you, and ignoring her comments about how he couldn't eat it with his helmet on.

She had warmed to him, since he'd put money in her pocket, chattering in a way that kept him stuck for long moments.

It struck you as strange - he almost seemed too awkward to leave, like her returned generosity actually meant something to him. A man like him... surely could've just walked away.

But he stayed for awhile, nodding and looking at the spoons she carved in her free time, and you almost thought he was looking at you, too. Then he ducked his head and planted himself in front of you, and certainly he was.

For all the years you'd spent weaving words to sell your fabrics and goods, you'd never been so speechless. The Mandalorian was large, sharp, shining edges and bulky canvas packs tied to his shoulders - he seemed out of place, filling your whole stall, shuffling as he loomed over you.

He asked for soft brown things - children's clothes.

"Of course, I - I mean, yes, just over here -" you tripped over your words, caught completely off guard by the shape of him, the feel of him just an arms width away, and his request. You stumbled from your seat, nearly toppling in your hurry and his gloved hand wrapped around your arm, catching you.

"You're injured," he stated not really asking. It was... overwhelmingly intimate, him knowing, and acknowledging it, like he cared.

"Yeah, my..." you swallowed, trying not to get lost in the dark glass inches from your face. "My self-centered soulmate keeps getting himself nearly killed."

Even with your heart thumping in your chest, you couldn't keep the bite from your words, bitterness having collected over years of nursing injuries that were consequences of someone else's actions. He didn't let go of you for a moment, his helmet pulling back and tilting, like he was startled.

Then he was cautious, unbearably so, releasing his grip like a child freeing a captured creature when it was time. The topic was dropped, and he made his purchase quickly, but before he left, he paused. The Mandalorian's gloved hand ghosted over your cheek, slowly moving a hair back into it's place, and if you hadn't known better, it was almost an apology.

And then, thick cape swirling in the dust, tiny clothes in tow, he swept away, leaving you along with your whole body alight with a foreign longing.

Din felt as though he'd been stabbed.

Hot, hot feelings poured through his chest, spreading fast as fire as he desperately tried to sort through them.

You - you were incredible, fragile and bruised, with the most stunning, determined eyes he had ever seen. Not a Mandalorian, and you had a ... a soulmate, a fucker who left your skin littered with marks, burdening you with ...

He felt panicked, shocked, and guilty, just as he had when you'd told him. It had never occred to him that his soulmate might be there... out there, constantly burdened by his recklessness. His body screamed for attention, something he so often ignored, but this time, he was almost deafened by it.

His feet, legs, arms, chest, heart - all of them wanted him to return to you, in your little fabric stall. To... what? Truly, he hadn't the slightest idea, so his mind won out, shaking a little to try to reign in the muscles that he'd taught to obey him.

He couldn't go to you.

But, he couldn't stay away.

He was back in the market, and this time, he wasn't being subtle about staring at you.

Tall and ... slow, he waded through the crowds, making his was towards you like he was following a careful path.

"Can I help you?" You stood, moving almost involuntarily towards him. "Was there something wrong with my -" he was already shaking his head, hands reaching to make you shush.

Waiting, an irrational part of your mind wished he would touch you again, would place his big hands on your skin and sooth the aches that haunted your life. It was unfair, but you didn't stop it, couldn't if you tried.

Carefully, he slid a single finger to your arm, pushing up your sleeve to reveal the little burn you'd gotten.

He was being gentle. It made you want to stomp your feet, jealously welling up in your heart like bile, bitter and hot. How could it be, that someone so powerful had learned so quickly, wanted to, and he wasn't - he wasn't even your -

Then he moved again, pushing up his own sleeve and your thoughts tumbled over each other. It was intimate, even more than before, desperately trusting, as his skin near glowed in the morning light. And there was a burn on his skin, hairs singled like they'd met the edge of a pot of boiling broth.

You wanted to punch him. This man has spent years tossing his body around like he had one one spare, making your own as brittle as bread crust and - you wanted to kiss him. This man had learned after a single day, the impact of his actions, and had been nothing but kind.

The forehead of his helmet pressed into yours, and the two sides of your mind compromised.

Later, words would come - they had to.

But now, your eyes closed, and you sighed. He had the rest of your life to make it up to you - and he would, you were sure.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk @saradika @zinzinina

#din djarin x reader #soulmate requests #anonymous and elle #elle only posts soulmate rqs at weird hours thats the rule

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froggysoup · 3 years

Text

wowee

Alrighty I’m just gonna ramble on about my thoughts on the new quest (and things in general because I talk too much) and pray that at least some of it ends up coherent. Spoilers, by the way.

I’ve had this first theory since the last archon quest but got nervous and didn’t share, so here it is now. Maybe it’s an obvious thing that I’m just in the dark about, but I’m fairly sure that Dainsleif’s “Boughkeeper” title has a large part in explaining why he knows so much about things he really shouldn’t. From the newest quest, we learn that he is actually cursed with immortality, which could explain some it, but the guy still knows too much for it to simply be chalked up to his age. He’s literally the designated narrator for half of the official videos and knows a lot about what and who he talks about.

I suspect that the ley lines serve as an information network of some sort, and that Dainsleif’s position as Boughkeeper allows him access to it in one way or another. The only other places we really see the whole tree/branch thing is with the ley line branches, Irminsul trees, the Frostbearing Tree, and the tree who once had roots that spanned the whole continent (which we know the ley line branches were once directly a part of), all of which are connected in a way that I haven’t quite figured out yet.

Now, from those screens that come up while the game is loading, we know that supposedly, the intertwined roots of the Irminsul trees far beneath the earth determine the pattern of the ley lines above, and we also know that ley lines are a “mysterious network that links the whole world together” and that they are said to remember everything that happens in the world. From this, I don’t think it’d be that much of a reach to say that Dainsleif can access that somehow.

Next. I do think there’s a pretty good chance that the Archons were involved in the destruction of Khaenri’ah. The Viridescent Venerer set actually tells us how the former Dendro Archon died during the cataclysm while in Khaenri’ah, which. Uh. That’s kind of really incriminating.

However! Obviously, we’ve only heard this from Dainsleif’s point of view and he’s pretty biased considering his whole thing. We don’t know how much control Celestia has over the Archons’ actions, either, and I’m about 98% sure that some of them weren’t into it, and likely didn't even have a choice. Like, look at the Tsaritsa. Her whole thing is that sometime during the cataclysm, she witnessed something so view-shattering and unjust that her whole thing now is to “burn away the old world” and overthrow Celestia.

I also can’t see Venti and Zhongli going along with the destruction of an entire nation with no hesitation. Like, obviously, again, Dainsleif is going to be biased, but from what we’ve been told Khaenri’ah didn’t even do anything divine-retribution-worthy. Celestia just seems be into dropping skyscraper-sized pillars and other things onto nations who get too good at being independent, for whatever reason. The new quest is definitely supposed to make us question the current systems of this world but I don’t think we’re meant to hate Venti or Zhongli, at least yet. I think they’re even kind of meant to be seen as the “best” out of the Archons, so to speak. (Not that I think they’re perfect, by any means.)

Like, just look at the way they’ve been presented to us, versus how some of the other Archons have been introduced (Storyline Trailer, my beloved).

Raiden Shogun is made out to be some self-absorbed divine ass-kisser who doesn’t have humanity’s best interests at heart (which we know is supposed to be a thing you do as an Archon). She’s doing her whole confiscating visions and oppressive rule thing in an effort to be seen as more divine, but, as Dainsleif puts it, “what do mortals see of the eternity chased after by their god?”

The Dendro Archon/God of Wisdom is implied to not actually be as smart as somebody with that title is supposed to be, one way or another, and either has turned a blind eye to or blatantly encourages the “push for folly” in Sumeru. Can’t tell exactly what that would mean or entail (thanks, Dainsleif), but obviously. Doesn’t sound good.

Dainsleif says of the Hydro Archon that she “lives for the spectacle of the courtroom, seeking to judge all other gods. But even she knows not to make an enemy of the divine.” While the not making an enemy of the divine thing I get (I guess, coward), the whole “seeking to judge all other gods” bit seems very “remove the log from your own eye”-y. Like, you’re an Archon, too, what are you trying to prove here?

The Tsaritsa is- well, the Tsaritsa, as we know. While I do think we are meant to sympathize and agree with at least part of her core ideals and motives, she still is the one behind the Fatui and is, by extension, a war criminal. She also apparently has “no love left for her people”. It’s a bit of a complicated relationship that we have with her.

The only ones who Dainsleif does not directly slander in the trailer are Venti, Zhongli, and Murata. While I don’t think we have enough on her to come to any conclusions about her character yet, Venti does say of her that she is a “wayward, war-mongering wretch”. Now, he does also jab at Rex Lapis during this voiceline, but unlike with Murata we know that those two are buddy-buddy and it was very likely that it was “buffoon (affectionate)”.

Venti and Zhongli are also the first two Archons we encounter, which is important for multiple reasons.

Gonna derail for a bit because I don’t know where to start. But. The game very likely will (or at least should) end with no Archons.

Obviously, especially in light of the new quest (although this stuff has been floating around since the Dragonspine update and even before that), Celestia Bad. Like, cataclysmically bad (lmao). In fact, I’m highly certain that you could trace basically every problem in this game back to them, some way or another.

Even our main “villain” groups all seem to be gunning for Celestia. The Fatui obviously work for the Tsaritsa, who’s made it very clear that she plans to rebel against the divine. The Abyss Order, too, has their Deeply Upsetting plan of creating a mechanized god with the power to “topple the divine thrones of Celestia”.

Evidence points to an overthrow of Celestia at some point in the game, and considering how being an Archon or even a god is directly tied to Celestia, yeah. No more Celestia means no more Archons.

But even besides that, there’s a lot there to suggest that that’s where things are going.

I find it interesting how Mondstadt’s our prologue chapter, or that there’s even a prologue chapter of the game at all. Prologues are meant to set up ideas that will be present throughout the rest of the story, and Mondstadt does exactly that. Venti’s let the people of Mondstadt govern themselves and has almost completely been out of the equation for millennia, even if that means he is significantly weaker than his godly peers. When asked why he chose to do that instead of remain in charge and just give them freedom, Venti responds that “freedom, if demanded of you by an archon, is really no freedom at all.” This sentiment is also brought up in the Mondstadt portion of the storyline trailer, and the traveler even has a whole voiceline debating what Venti really meant when he said that.

This idea of freedom and that humanity is capable on its own is further reinforced in Chapter 1, in which Liyue learns to move on from the death of its Archon. Zhongli set up his plan with the intention of testing if his people could stand on their own legs without him there to guide them, and they do. He even expresses how pleasantly surprised he is that the Qixing were able to take advantage of the situation and seize control like they did. Keqing gives us this whole speech when we first meet her about how the adepti and gods underestimate humanity’s capability and how Liyue’s future is meant to be a godless one. This, in a way, extends to the rest of the continent as well.

In the storyline trailer (which I quote too often, I’m sorry. My favorite and only party trick is that I got bored one day and memorized the whole thing), Dainsleif spends the entire Khaenri’ah section musing about something similar.

“In the perpetual meantime of a sheltered eternity, most are content to live and not to dream. But in the hidden corner where the gods’ gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming,” is obviously about the people of Teyvat vs. those in Khaenri’ah. While a future under the care of the Archons is a safe and reliable one, is it one that allows humanity to chase its potential to the fullest? Khaenri’ah was destroyed for flourishing like it did without gods, both as a punishment and a warning to everybody else.

“Some say a few are chosen and the rest are dregs, but I say we humans have our humanity.” This is in reference to visions. Throughout the game, this idea that, at least in the eyes of the gods, vision holders are more important than those without them, is constantly brought up.

In the commission “Leaves on the Wind”, Dr. Edith expresses how it often seems as if vision holders are the main characters of this world. From the notebooks we receive during the “Time and Wind” world quest, we learn that the Sumeru Academia actually discourages non-vision holders from conducting outdoor surveys, and how “these days... trying to be an academic when you don't have a Vision, it's really restricting...” Dainsleif even just straight up asks us what we think the gods think of vision holders and people in general during question time in that one quest.

In Lisa’s stories, we learn that the reason for her laziness is that a part of her is afraid of learning or doing too much, after witnessing what “uninhibited erudition” can do to people during her time in Sumeru. She also senses that something beneath the surface is happening regarding the distribution of visions. “For whatever reasons, the gods gave humans the key to changing everything, but they did not explain the cost involved. Lisa grew fearful of the truth.”

I forgot exactly where I was going with that last paragraph, but yeah. There’s definitely sketchy shit going on behind the scenes in regards to visions, possibly to keep people either quiet or complacent. I suspect it may even be to restrict access to certain knowledges or even the elements themselves. Anyways.

I lose track of my thoughts too often. Fuck. Right. Mondstadt and Liyue served as good examples of society under the rule of the Archons, and in Chapter 2 we will encounter our first bad example, showing us the pros and cons of the current situation. However, despite Zhongli and Venti seeming to genuinely care for their people, humanity’s wellbeing shouldn’t be reliant on how their god is feeling that day, and they shouldn’t have to look to the gods for a chance to become something greater than themselves, either.

Um. All that’s to say I’m just very excited to see where the story will go, and if Zhongli’s contract with the Tsaritsa is any indication then it’s gonna go somewhere good. Celestia bad, Archons bad but also not bad but also bad, I don’t know if what I just wrote actually even counts as understandable, thank you and good night.

#i talk too much without saying anything substantial i'm so sorry #genshin impact #genshin impact theory #does this count as dainsleifposting?#i'll tag it anyway #dainsleifposting

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awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands · 3 years

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Laid out cold, now we're both alone (part 2)

A/N: Hello, this fic is very important to me because I tried my best to give justice to such a cool idea and I hope I did a good job. Plus I don't do multichapter ofter, so this was a challenge.

I wanna thank the lovely @livdonna for proofreading my work, you're literally the best <3.

P.S. If you want to get tagged in the next chapters, let me know.

Summary: Nikki visits Mick to give him a very important task.

Warnings: Major Character Death,Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug Use, Angst, Overdose.

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee

Chapter 1

Taglist: @slashscowboyboots @witchytombstonesmile @arnold-layne @emometalhead @i-dont-like-rice @nikki-sexx @smokeandmirrorz

Mick was supposed to not give a shit about Nikki. He and the stupid drummer had tormented him and his wife for months on ends, making the whole tour a living hell and he didn’t need to have even more things to worry about. So what if his bassist decided to get addicted to heroin? He was a fucking dumbass but it wasn’t his problem. He would end up killing himself and it wasn’t like Mick could have done something, not when his whole body was torturing him.

The only problem was that he cared, deep down. He cared about the fucker and hearing the news that he was gone forever hit him. He lost one of his friends and the band all together in a day, what would have happened? He hated to admit he was scared about the future, it was hard to imagine Motley Crue without Nikki.

He sighed, turning off yet another discussion about his death. They didn’t call him yet but something was telling him that they had to release a statement soon. Doc was probably freaking out somewhere crying for all his millions of dollars lost.

“Fucking Nikki, you had to die at the worst moment, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… sorry about that, man” A voice incredibly similar to Nikki said, making Mick jump up.

Nikki didn’t feel anything, one moment they were in the ambulance and the other they were on the beach. He was confused for a moment before he remembered that Mick had a beach house, and stared at it for a bit. He didn’t know much about the guitarist, maybe almost nothing but he respected him so much. He was one of the strongest dudes he had ever met.

The weirdest thing about all of this was probably how he was only able to feel certain things, no cravings or sand under his feet as he was walking, yet he would still feel guilt, fear, love, worry… it didn’t make sense but he wasn’t in the mood to question the universe’s rules.

People can’t see you until you decide to show yourself. You have to remember or otherwise they can’t hear or see you.

The voice still freaked him out, but at the same time he was grateful for it to be there… it made him feel less alone, which was great considering how he felt lonely for his entire life.

“You’re not alone Nikki, I’ll always be there with you, through highs and lows”

“God it sounds like a marriage vow, T-Bone”

“Well if I could I’d marry now…”

He shook his head, trying to get the memory out. It wasn’t the time to be sentimental and risk fucking everything up, so he walked ( more like flew) through the front door and found Mick sitting on the couch.

“Fucking Nikki, you had to die at the worst moment, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… sorry about that, man”. The bassist hoped that he was heard, otherwise it would have been pretty embarrassing.

Mick visibly jumped at hearing Nikki’s voice and quickly turned around to look at him. From his widened eyes and confused expression, he knew he probably looked fucking transparent.

“Okay first of all why the hell are you here talking to me if you’re dead? Then why the fuck can I see myself through you ?”

The black haired man just realized that he had no idea how to explain everything and be believed, he just went along with whatever the voice in his head was saying, but now it was different. He fumbled with his hand and realized he couldn’t feel them, while he tried to come up with the best way to explain to his friend how he was a ghost and why he was there.

“I died… I have no idea how I came back but I have unfinished business and I need to talk to you!”

The guitarist looked at him up and down, clearly skeptical. However, there wasn’t much arguing… Nikki’s ghost was literally standing in front of him.

“Okay I have no idea if this is a dream, I’m dead or in a coma, or simply I drank too much but now I’ll grab some vodka and you’ll spill your little secrets as you like”.

Nikki smiled a bit… He honestly felt normal for the first time since he was brought back. Having Mick joking was so familiar, usually Tommy was the aim of his jokes and they all laughed because they were all so unexpected…

Tommy. Thinking about him still hurt, again he wondered if he was okay and how much he missed him… but it wasn’t his time now. He had other things to talk about as Mick came back into the living room with his glass.

“Mick… you gotta promise me that you won’t let Motley Crue die, that you will fight to keep the band’s legacy.”

The older man looked at him surprised, rolling his eyes.

“Well that’s a bit hard when our bassist and songwriter died!”

Rage and resentment were heavy in his voice but there was more : fear and sadness. Nikki felt guilty and he fucking hated it, it was so unlike him but he couldn’t help it… Mick cared about the band as much as he did. He always said the band was his life, before heroin came into the picture, but it was also Mick’s and he probably destroyed everything.

“You will find another one, another bassist who is also a songwriter…” The words felt so foreign coming from his mouth. They even hurt a bit but they were necessary.

“I know you care about this band as much as I do, Mick. I know how much you’ve worked your ass off in shitty bands, trying to find the one that was going to break… I might be dead but Crue can’t have the same fate”.

Mick scoffed, taking a long sip of his vodka.

“It’s not easy, it’s not like we can find the perfect match like we did. Plus, everyone will probably hate him for replacing you!”

The frustration was almost tangible, but there was something else… Mick was scared, he knew everything was about to fade away because of Nikki’s actions, he was already looking at the boat sinking. Nikki started to panic because his band had to live, even in his death! It was pointless and selfish but that was the only thing people could remind him of.

“If you give up, then Vince and Tommy will do the same! I know that you think no one will take you, but the truth is they will. Crue is what it is because of our vision, you are part of it and I’m asking you to keep it going. Think of this as my dying man’s wish… even if I’m already dead”

The older man’s grip on his glass got tighter, his eyes lost in thought as he was pondering Nikki’s words. It was hard to take in, hell that was an understatement, it was fucking insane and probably wouldn’t work but the bassist needed to have this false hope.

“It’s so fucking weird, you know? To realize you’re fucking dead yet here talking to me.”

He was deflecting, Nikki knew it, but didn’t want to push it too far. He learned to know Mick, he kept his promises and he was a hard worker and with a good dose of luck and jokes, you got him to your side.

“Yeah, do you remember how I said you weren’t going to make it in that interview? Well, karma hits like a bitch!”

“Mick might not make it , he drinks a little too much and it looks rough” Mick quoted, trying to imitate Nikki’s voice.

“Yeah and then you said something like I heard what you said and you’re dead, fuck I guess you were right” He laughed but Mick didn’t.

Oh c’mon so what if he was joking about his death? It’s not like anyone really cared about him. They just saw him as a burden, which he was. Not his mom, nor his band or his Tommy would have really missed him… they would eventually move on.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He said annoyed but his lips formed a small smile.

“I know, I know. Mick… please promise me that. If Crue is going to end, then my whole life didn’t mean anything! Ple…” He stopped himself, he was so fucking close to begging but he couldn’t. Nikki Sixx didn’t fucking beg, not in life or death.

“I’m thinking about it!”

He really meant the first part. He spent all his teenage and adult years creating the band of his dreams and making sure they conquered the world. This band was his escape; his attempt at redemption after his shitty childhood. Nobody loved Frank Feranna but he didn’t care, he would become Nikki Sixx and be super fucking famous!

He didn’t need anyone’s love, except that he did.

“ I love you, Nikki.”

“ No you don’t, nobody does, T-Bone”

“Well I fucking do. You gotta pass on my dead body before you’ll hear me not saying it over and over”

His heart might have stopped, but he still felt the big wave of nostalgia hitting him. He couldn’t do it, he would have never been ready to see him again.

“Okay, I will. But listen to me, it won’t be easy and I’m an old man with a fucked up back, so don’t send demons against me if I fail!” The little spark of determination in his eyes relaxed Nikki, he was on board.

“I fucking knew you were the best, Mars! If I wasn’t dead I’d probably tattoo your face on me as a thank you!”

“Oh gross, never say that again!” He pretended to be disgusted but his eyes betrayed him, the small softness in them told Nikki he felt touched.

“Who knows, maybe in hell they have tattoos for the ghosts. God we used to hate each other and now we are two peas in a pod.”

“I still hate you.”

“Ugh, you crushed my heart Mick”

The guitarist flipped him off, rolling his eyes. Nikki desperately wanted to keep talking, if he did then he could have pretended nothing changed, right? He didn’t have to face Vince and Tommy and go through the light… everything would have stayed the same or he could fool himself that it would.

I think it’s time to go to the next person.

The voice was demanding yet still calm. Nikki knew that he couldn’t stay forever, they had to prevent spirits from just lingering into the real world like that, it made him a bit angry but he understood it. It wasn’t like he could have done much anyway…He was just a shell of what he used to be.

“I gotta go Mick…” He wanted to punch himself because he sounded so fucking pathetic, but the other man gave him a compassionate smile.

What he fuck are you, a little small puppy? Oh look Frankie is scared to leave his illusion of a family.

Mick walked him to the other without saying anything, but before turning the handle, which was pointless because Nikki could have just passed through the door, he broke the silence.

“Try to give us some signs, okay? Show us that you’re there… but don’t you fucking dare spill my vodka or I’ll make you two times dead!”

“Oh that’s exactly what I’ll do, thanks for the suggestion!”

He stepped outside and looked at Mick one last time.

“You promised, alien. You gotta do it!”

“Yeah yeah, you better repay me when I come to join you there…” And with one last look, Mick closed the door.

Nikki felt all of the weight crushing down on his body, even if it was made of air. He simply stood still, his mind racing like a freight train, trying to take everything in but also getting ready for his next move… being overwhelmed was an understatement, he felt peeled down like an orange and this was only the beginning. He felt like a fucking coward but he just wanted to get over it, was it that bad to accept his fate and disappear without facing anyone?

You are going to abandon him again? You know why you need to talk to Vince, and you know this will be your last chance to see him, asshole!

He went to kick the sand, but he couldn’t touch it. God, how frustrating was that!

So where are we going next?

Nikki would have wanted to scream at him, give him the middle finger and just run away but it wouldn’t have been helpful, would it? So he forced himself to be as neutral as possible.

“Vince Neil. Take me to his house.”

#nikki sixx #Tommy Lee #mick mard #vince neil #motley crue #motley crue fanfiction #80sRock #80s rock band #fanfiction #my writing #tommy lee x nikki sixx

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Kinktober - Day Two

Prompt: Shibari

Pairing: Vil/Reader (Twisted Wonderland)

TW: Dub-Con, Bondage, Orgasm Denial, Mentions of Non-Consensual Drug Use, Reference to Past Non-Con, and Abusive Relationships.

“You look so good in red.”

Your voice was soft, smooth, as collected and composed as someone in your position had the right to be, as someone in your position should be. Vil knew you were lying. That was the worst part, really. Even with a scrap of lace fabric covering his eyes, reducing the world to one vague, scarlet blur, he knew how he must’ve looked, how pathetic he must’ve seemed, too you. Wrists bound above his head, body exposed without a trace of preserved dignity. He knew how red distorted him. It perverted all the things he held close to his heart, turning his skin from pale to sickly, his form from lean to gaunt, pointing out discoloration, harsh angles, all the ugliness he tried so hard to suppress. He was laid bare, forced into a more vulnerable position than a simple lack of clothes could ever achieve. It was what he dreaded, but it was what you revealed in. These were the terms of the arrangement you’d laid out, when he’d plead with you to stay.

It was the least he could do to keep his word, when you’d been gracious enough to stick around.

He couldn’t see you, but he didn’t have to guess at your location. Even blinded and restrained, he could feel the mattress dip at his side, make out the tips of your fingers as they grazed over his chest, pulling at the rough, curling rope forming a collar around his neck, laying out intricate designs over his chest, blossoming in all sorts of knots, all sorts of configurations, all sorts of patterns meant to make him feel pretty and delicate and powerless. He supposed he was. That was the first thing you’d did, when you finally came to, when all of his potions wore off and his precautions failed - you’d caught his pen under your heel and broken it, only stopping when the remnants were beyond repair. It wasn’t his most calculated move, but he hadn’t been thinking when put himself at your mercy. He’d just wanted... no, he’d needed you to--

“You’re thinking about something else.” Your voice was neutral, idle, and yet, your nails scraped against his flesh so harshly as you took hold of the length of rope just below his diaphragm, jerking upward just roughly enough to earn an airy gasp and a small, pained grimace. “Remember how much you used to hate it when I did that?” You asked, as you let go. “You used to throw these fits - they were awful, weren’t they? You’d break stuff and yell at me, and if I wasn’t crying by the time you finished, you’d decide your make-up brushes weren’t the only things that deserved to be torn apart.”

“I had to.” You didn’t gag him, but he wished you had as soon as the words found their way past his lips. He couldn’t stop himself, even as regret began to fester in the back of his throat like the contents of a cauldron left unattended for a minute too long. “I… I wasn’t in my right mind. I didn’t know what I was doing, I thought you were going to--”

“You thought I was going to find someone else,” You interrupted, pressing your palm flat against his solar plexus. “You thought you had the right to stop me from leaving, if I wanted to.”

Vil didn’t respond. You cursed under your breath.

He’d always thought of himself as a graceful lover - an elegant one, if nothing else - but there was nothing nimble about the way you straddled his thighs, positioning yourself with a sense of purpose, functionality put above all else. He’d never been beneath you, before. The few times you had been docile enough not to need restraints, it’d been because you were limp, your pupils blown out and some thick, silvery concoction still staining your tongue and dripping from the corner of your mouth. You’d barely been able to keep your eyes open, back then, let alone dominate him in any way that mattered, but you’d been clingy, too, touchy and needy and loving. In comparison, this version of you was sterile, more aware but not nearly as involved. You couldn’t even seem to find the motivation to focus on one area at a time, your left hand tracing the length of rope crossed over his hip as your right finally, finally curled around his cock.

Between the guilt and the remorse and the subtle, drudging fear, he couldn’t be sure when he’d gotten hard. He couldn’t be sure, but as soon as your fist closed around him, he knew he must’ve been for far longer than he’d like to admit. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, determined to keep himself from whimpering, but if you cared about his reactions, you didn’t make a point of trying to elicit a stronger response. Your pace was robotic, lifeless as you pumped don the length of his shaft. “How long were you drugging me?” You asked, almost as an after-thought. “It was hard to keep track of time.”

Vil’s voice shook as he spoke. “I never--”

“You were drugging me.” Your tone dipped, dropping into something hostile, and just as suddenly, your grip tightened, provoking a hitched whine and wave of released tension, neither of which you seemed to notice. “You forced your stupid little love potion down my throat. You made me fawn over you, and fuck you, and destroy every friendship I had because you wanted to shove your dick in something that wouldn’t fight back. You knew I didn’t want it, you knew I’d be miserable, but you didn’t care. You never cared.”

He didn’t try to hold himself back, now, raspy moans and muttered, incoherent thoughts spilling out before he had a chance to swallow them back. It was still too cruel, it was still painful, but it was you, and it was friction, and when every single one of his nerves was already on edge, all it took was the hint of pleasure to get him to that edge, that cliffside, that unearned euphoria. “Tell me,” You demanded. “I swear, I’ll stop right now if you don’t fucking tell me.”

“Please,” He started, but anything he might’ve said was cut off by a desperate stammer, a sudden halt in everything, from the movement of your hand to the air in his lungs. “Six months.” It hurt to say, it hurt to think, but it was true. He’d counted the days himself, when he still thought that would redeem him. “You missed six months, just six months, I promise.”

He felt you stiffen above him, and pitifully, he bucked his hips toward you, seeking out something you still didn’t want to give him. It was a fruitless effort, though, your hand soon pulling away completely. “You ruined my life,” You mumbled, the sentiment barely audible. “You ruined my fucking life.”

He almost apologized. He moved to, going slack as he wondered how to best degrade himself, but you never gave him the chance. Before he could, your lips were on his, your fingers tangled in his hair and your tongue in his mouth. It was more of a collision than a kiss, a form of vengeance, a clash of teeth that left him arching his back, trying to draw you closer, trying to keep you closer, but that was useless, too. In the blink of an eye, you’d moved on, a breathy laugh soon stifled by the crook of his neck as you played with the idea of biting down. For once, he wished you would.

He’d already proved he’d do anything, if it meant keeping you by his side.

“And now, I’m going to ruin you.”

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lightrises · 3 years

Text

"Only in allowing her to pass..." — Hornet, The Radiance, and the means by which Hallownest turned its victims against each other

A quick note: I read Hollow Knight as an anti-colonialist text. As such I'll be touching on topics related to colonialism as it's depicted in the world of the game, and said analysis will reflect both a sympathetic take on The Radiance and a critique of The Pale King that won't pull its punches. If this sounds up your alley, hello and thank you for the read! Let us be sad about these bugs together.

———

So!! A while back I realized something about pre-canon that felt rather... "curious" is one way to put it, I think. To wit: for all the effort and scheming and determination The Pale King poured into trying to get rid of The Radiance, neither of his plans involved directly killing her.

Was that his long game? Well, sure, that seems clear enough. His tack changed from luring the moths away from their god and creator to a more literal form of incarceration once the infection became a factor, but at its core the end goal never really changed—The Pale King very sincerely wished to destroy Radiance via obsolescence. The Seer lends us foreshadowing to confirm as much:

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from Hollow Knight, showing the Seer and Ghost in the Seer's alcove at the Resting Grounds. Across both screenshots, the Seer tells Ghost the following: "None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters." End description.]

(Which, by the way and given the context, talk about an extremely unsubtle allusion to cultural genocide huh!!! Whew.)

In any case, we're left with a whole bunch of machinations which build up to... well, two very roundabout attempts at committing deicide. That's kind of weird, all things considered! Why not just do the deed in one fell swoop and get it over with?

This could be for any number of reasons. Maybe the king was devoid of the means to instantly kill another higher being. Maybe his personal sense of scruples stopped him short of signing off on MURDER murder (although, y'know, the aforementioned genocide + eternal imprisonment = still cool and copasectic apparently!). Maybe the long drawn-out cruelty was the point. Maybe the idea of playing fuckign 4D chess with the circumstances was too delicious for him to pass up—that man did love to tinker and stick his claws where they sure as hell didn't belong—or maybe it was a little bit of All The Things. Who knows!!

But interrogating The Pale King's methodology on this count isn't what I'm here for, at least not really. The main reason I raise this question at all is that in her own way, Hornet did too.

"I'd urge you to take that harder path... "

See, going by The Pale King's actions and what The White Lady explicitly says, they both foresaw two outcomes wrt the infection: it can be allowed to spread, or it can be contained. At Teacher's Archives, Quirrel acknowledges the fact that Ghost is expected to do... something about this, but he doesn't elaborate on what HE thinks that's supposed to be apart from the obvious "Gotta bust into Black Egg Temple first". Hornet is the one person who presents to us—to Ghost—what's framed as a third option: confront and destroy the infection at its source.

And she doesn't bring it up like it's just another tactic for Ghost to consider, prim and indifferent to what they would do. She nudges them towards it, actively, up to the point where she throws herself into the fray against Hollow at a juncture that's uniquely dangerous to her and her alone just to make that option feasible.

Even when she's couching it in disclaimers that this is still Ghost's decision to make (and let's be fair, she's extremely not wrong about that lol), no one can pretend Hornet is unbiased. It's obvious in that buttoned-down Hornet kind of way that she is way the hell done with the increasingly tenuous stalemate that's kept Hallownest's desiccated corpse from collapsing in on itself. Personally it's hard for me not to read some Toriel Undertale-esque "My father was too entrenched in his own foolishness to pursue any course of action that would have DEFINITIVELY ended this" shade into her stance here, regardless of whether that's strictly true in canon.

And that bit—Hornet's hopes for an end to Hallownest's stasis, moreover her grim calculation of what needs to be done to get there—that's the bit I find super interesting but likewise tragic and depressing as shit, on multiple levels. In no small part because a) canon itself gestures towards Hornet feeling conflicted about the very plan she's pushing, and moreover b) she has at least two (2) damn good reasons to feel that way.

So, what do I mean by that? Let's look here first:

[Image description: A screenshot from Hollow Knight, of Hornet and Ghost inside the Temple of the Black Egg, standing in front of the unsealed egg itself. Hornet has been struck by the Dream Nail and her dialogue is displayed as follows: "... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?" End description.]

As the curtain is about to drop on things one way or another, Hornet thinks,

... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?

Now, looking at that last bit it's easy to go "Oh no, Hornet's worried that Ghost won't survive killing The Radiance!" And I do think that's part of it: Hornet is, categorically, not her father. By endgame it's clear she's not content to view her Void-borne siblings as tools to be used then disposed of. She's also well aware that as a healthy autonomous Vessel amongst the countless dead, Ghost is the only person left alive who has a fighting chance against The Radiance. Knowing someone is the only qualified candidate for the job doesn't make encouraging them to embrace a probable death sentence any less of a bitter pill to swallow, though. And odds are on that this sentiment extends to Hollow too, who IS going to die no matter what happens here. To put it bluntly, it's more than reasonable to conclude that Hornet hates the absolute fuck out of this.

But I don't think that's all there is to it either. Remember what I said earlier about The Pale King's bids for genocide? Well, it's not like the man deigned to limit his efforts to just the moth tribe.

"We do not choose our mothers... "

On top of everything else—an infected Hallownest being all she's ever known, the fact that she only exists because of the infection, the list goes on—Hornet has spent her life wedged into a position that's been uncomfortable and terminally unglamorous at best: she is both a daughter of her father's kingdom and of Deepnest.

Deepnest, which like the moths and many others was here long before the wyrm and his lady wife swanned onto the scene and the God Become Bug laid claim to everything the Light touched plus a considerable amount of change. THAT Deepnest, which has fought claw and thread to retain its sovereignty against same-said settler king, and for which Herrah not only surrendered her life but also agreed to bed her worst enemy, all in hopes of securing a viable future for her people (put a pin in that last part by the way, I'll come back to it soon).

Two Worlds, One Family (Ft. An Indigenous Woman Trying Her Damndest To Work With What She's Got Versus An Imperialist Who Only Signed Up For This Because He Needed The Political Favor THAT Badly, So It's The Height Of Dysfunctional Actually). Fun times!!!!

The baggage this entails for Hornet is gnarly enough without implications made by The White Lady and the pre-canon timeline of events and even Team Cherry's dev notes that the king may well have looked at baby Hornet, gone "YOINK", then ensured she spent the lion's share of her childhood reared within the pearly auspices of his Pale Court*. That would be rather advantageous for Him Specifically after all, the potential to mold a born foe into a future ally and even have her trained in combat under the same tutelage as her doomed sibling. And far be it from him to stop a grown Hornet—his own flesh and blood too!—from making Deepnest her forever home if she so pleased. He totally wouldn't be reneging on his "fair bargain made" by doing this one simple thing until Hornet came of age, not t e c h nic c a l l y.

If that is indeed the case, there's a non-zero chance Hornet's formative years were a hot mess of cultural alienation and being a good deal more privy than most to just how much of a bastard her father could be. There's an equally non-zero chance that at some point she stood or sat within earshot as The Pale King finally, finally dropped all pretense and euphemism to name the Light for precisely what (for who) it was.

See, in conjunction with the question that started this whole dang train of thought I've been asking this one too: Does Hornet know? When she speaks of confronting "the heart of [the] infection" does she know she's talking about not just a literal person but someone very specific? The Radiance, who god though she may be shares skin in the game alongside Hornet as a native woman screwed over by the same settler king, likewise deprived of her kin and saddled with a life gone horrendously pear-shaped?

I'll assume for the sake of exploring the possibility and because I think it's a likely one anyway that yes, Hornet does know. She knows, and despite everything can't help empathizing. She might even look at Radiance and see bits and pieces both reflected and slightly inversed in her own mother: Radiance was forced to the sidelines while her people—her children, the brood she was meant to lead and care for—died out under The Pale King's rule, and it's no stretch to assume she's at least as upset about that as she has been about everything else; Herrah too took drastic measures for her people's sake, trying to head off annihilation by relegating herself to the sidelines in an act that was as much calculated risk as an attempt to find wiggle room and leverage in the face of a nasty proposition.

A calculated risk that, if things continue as they are, might well amount to nothing as the rest of Deepnest gets eaten alive by the infection. It survived The Pale King's advances for so so long, only to fall here. Herrah's sacrifice would be for naught; the other tribes—themselves the king's victims—would keep succumbing to the infection too.

And this is where things fall apart.

"... or the circumstance into which we are born."

Let's be clear: I think Hornet is wise enough to know what's what here, that all the carnage and suffering falls on her father's head for starting this slow-motion trainwreck in the first place. Hallownest wasn't always Hallownest. This domain was Radiance's home first, along with many others. It was the worm-turned-king who rolled up on the scene unsolicited and decided this was a ""'problem""" that had to be """solved""".

But the fact of the matter is that he's gone and The Radiance is here, raging, seemingly inconsolable. Above and beyond being Deepnest's rightful heir, Hornet isn't in a position to countenance more splash damage even if the grief and fury fueling it makes perfect sense. She can understand without ever bringing herself to love Radiance, and she can bend her knee to practicality even if she hates the everloving shit out of it because the fact that it "has" to end this way isn't fair.

This lends itself to one last awful conclusion: that Hornet has probably considered and (rightly or wrongly) discarded the possibility that Radiance can be saved, at least not without dragging more collateral along for the ride. If even her mother and every other enemy to the king seemed to dismiss talking Radiance down as an option way back when... well. Why should Hornet hope for any better after things have escalated so far?

Again, it's practical. A practical net good is what Hornet strives for. And again, it fucking sucks.

For extra tragedy points, this makes Hornet's extended crypticness around Ghost followed by her last minute casting about for a reason to tell them "Wait, don't; not just yet" that she never voices even more of a gut punch. She can't bring herself to burden Ghost with the context that haunts her so, least of all when it might weaken their resolve to go through with what (she thinks) needs doing.

It's the "same song, different verse" which led to the mantis tribe and Deepnest being pitted against each other: Hallownest rigged the game so that two women who could have been powerful allies—who have a mutual vested interest in driving out settler rule—wound up poised as enemies instead. And how awful is that? The king for all his being extremely fucking dead still gets the last laugh, because outside of a miracle the game never manifests Hornet can salvage what her mother started and look forward to a future where Deepnest pulls itself back from the brink if and only if The Radiance dies.

Resolution comes at the price of a completed genocide. Add two more dead siblings to the unconscionable pile thereof, while we're at it. That's what it boils down to whether or not Hornet can bear to articulate it as such, and there's no grace or even a properly bittersweet ending to wring from this clusterfuck. And that is rough.

———

* This has been better explained elsewhere, but a quick rundown: The White Lady tells Ghost that Hornet and Herrah "were permitted little time together." On its surface this can be taken to mean that Hornet was still very young when Herrah was shipped off to Eternal Dreamland—except this doesn't jive with the fact that we meet Hornet as an adult. If the stasis kicked in once the Dreamers went to their rest, which in turn halted the aging process for every living bug in Hallownest, AND before all this Hornet experienced little by the way of quality time with her birth mother... I think you can see where I'm going with this.

To top it off we've got Team Cherry weighing in ominously from their dev notes on Herrah: "As part of the agreement for her alliance and her role as a dreamer, King gave her a child (Hornet). Was she allowed to keep this child or was she taken away?" This isn't confirmation by itself of course, but given additional canon details (see above): Can I get a "yikes" in the chat fellas.

#hollow knight #hornet (hollow knight)#hornet hollow knight #hk hornet #the radiance #hk radiance #herrah #hk herrah #hollow knight meta #sup folks it's been a minute since i dropped a whole dang essay but Here We Go!!!!!!

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angelictaehyun · 4 years

Text

Growing Pains

⤷ In kindergarten, he accidentally punched your nose. Thankfully, from that, a loving, caring friendship blossomed. Since then, you both had been attached at the hip, until suddenly... you’re halfway across the globe, a couple thousand miles apart.

PAIRING; yeonjun/reader

WORD COUNT; 3.2k

GENRE; singer!yeonjun, coming of age au, angst, slight fluff

WARNING; mild swearing, heartbreak, abandonment, angst

Honestly, five-year-old Yeonjun was nothing short of a nightmare. Though, he was seen this way only by you.

On a sunny day, sometime in kindergarten, he sat crouched on the playground’s field, searching for a ladybug. As for you, you believed if you found a ladybug, it could grant you a wish, thus you joined the young boy in his quest. You sat next to him, mindlessly searching the grass, and when he looked up to see you... he panicked. Other children, as he was told, are unclean and gross, and that’s exactly the sentiment he told himself as he pushed you onto the grass, causing you to scrape your elbow and bleed. You couldn’t stop sniffling as a big, crocodile tear trickled down your face; he felt terrible. In the palm of his clammy hand, he held a tiny, red ladybug, and seeing you cry, pushed him to give it to you.

"Please, just take it,” he quivered nervously. He thrust his hand in your face to present the small creature, but he ended up punching your nose. Unsurprisingly, you began full-on bawling.

He ended up in the principal’s office, and despite his feeble attempt to explain the true incident, his nap and playground time was taken away as punishment. Shortly after, he sulked back to class, passing the nurse’s office. Through the tinted, glass window, he saw you laying on an uncomfortable cot with an ice pack held over your nose and gauze over your injured elbow.

He was miserable.

He decided to genuinely apologize. He despised the idea of you being upset with him, even though he didn’t know you. After a stolen pint of ice cream from the school’s cafeteria, a pleading fest, a horrendous papier-mâché, and a heartfelt apology, you decided he wasn’t the worst. As for Yeonjun, he decided he liked you and suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he was glued to your side.

But you didn’t mind. It was hard to resist his smile.

· ──────────────────── ·

The day you decided Jung Mina was your absolute, garbage, worst enemy, you were nine.

On your first day back at school, you had gone to the restroom for a quick minute, and when you returned, you found she had stolen your diary to read in front of the class. Though she was quite the golden child, pissing you off to no end. Fortunately, your school’s field day neared the horizon and you decided to show her up. You wanted everyone, specifically Choi Yeonjun, to see your pure, unadulterated talent. You decided to absolutely destroy her in each event.

You were quite the vengeful nine-year-old.

Yeonjun, on the other hand, felt hesitant to follow through with your field-day-domination plan. Mina was just too pretty. Her hair smelled like sage and he had the biggest crush on her, unbeknownst to you. He was scared to mention his deep, dark secret, especially after you vocalized your complicated plan. You received virtually no help from him on field day. Despite that, you had won nearly every event. Unfortunately, somehow, you remained tied for champion with Mina, but the tiebreaker seemed quite simple. All you had to do was win a human-wheelbarrow race with Yeonjun, it was almost too easy.

And in all honesty, you would’ve won had Yeonjun not dropped you in the middle of the field and trip over your body, easily distracted by an air kiss from Mina, herself. He’d been lovestruck, but he didn’t have much time to dwell, especially not when you were squashed under him. He scrambled to help you back up, hoping he didn’t completely ruin your chance but it was too late, you had long lost the race. He turned to you, meeting your unkempt ponytail, narrowed, piercing gaze, sweat, and pursed lips. He was terrified, rightfully so. You told him off in the middle of the field, him withering in shame as he took in your colorful wording.

You chose to ignore him for a week, leaving him pouty. He decided to relive the past and create another papier-mâché, steal ice cream, and beg for forgiveness at your front door. He stood in the doorway, glancing at you with big, apologetic doe eyes, as an onset of a tear formed. Your resolve crumbled as you pulled him into a forgiving hug. As you pulled away, you admired his puffy lips which tilted into a small smile, and for the first time in your life, you felt your heart flutter.

He never did tell you about his crush on Mina. In the end, it didn’t quite matter.

· ──────────────────── ·

Year thirteen, you experimented with makeup. A lot of it. You tried different brands, colors, and styles. Yeonjun would be lying if he said you didn’t resemble a clown, but he kept his mouth shut and let you figure yourself out. Unfortunately, people were mean. When boys laughed at you behind your back, he made sure to drag them outside and put them in their place. When girls acted catty, he held you when you cried. When your family fell apart, he sat and devoured ice cream until your stomach ached. When you decided to join the dance team, he cheered you on at the audition.

He was always protecting and supporting you, even when you weren’t aware.

Lastly, when Homecoming approached, he was by your side as your unofficial date.

You both sat on the gym bleacher, overlooking your classmates who were either awkwardly swaying to the music, stuffing their faces at the snack station, or making out with each other. You regretted attending the dance, considering your boredom. though, when your watchful gaze traveled back to the couple kissing, a brilliant idea came forth.

“Junie, you know, neither of us has had our first kiss,” you observed, leaning slightly to see his reaction. He simply hummed in response, not fully listening. You continued, “... and I want to have my first kiss. I think we should have our first kiss with... each other.”

He stayed still, showing no indication of acknowledging your statement. You didn’t blame him, the music was quite loud anyway, you could barely hear yourself. You pretended you didn’t say anything and for an awfully long moment, you both stayed silent. Though that silence mixed in with a hint of embarrassment got too overwhelming, you had to excuse yourself to the restroom. As you left, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He definitely heard you, but he didn’t know how to process your ask let alone go through with it. He spent so much time, deep in thought, that he failed to realize your absence. When he snapped out his pensive state, he searched the massive gym for you and found you almost immediately, but you weren’t alone. You were pressed up against a dirty, filthy wall, experiencing your first kiss with someone that most certainly wasn’t Yeonjun.

He stood frozen, feeling a bit creepish, yet he couldn’t move if he wanted to, he couldn’t even breathe. Unfortunately, you didn’t stop until a while later, forcing Yeonjun to watch every second in complete agony. Your hair was messy and you were out of breath— that sight broke Yeonjun’s heart. The other boy dragged you onto the dance floor and when you spotted Yeonjun, standing absolutely dumbfounded, you sent a big smile and cheeky wink his way.

You seemed too cheery, and though he was your best friend that should’ve reveled in your happiness, all he saw was red. He felt pure, unadulterated rage, and jealousy. He was supposed to make your first kiss unforgettable, not the other boy.

It was supposed to be him.

· ──────────────────── ·

At fourteen, you decided you didn’t necessarily like your boyfriend all too much, especially since someone else already held your heart. Sure, you felt the loss of your first relationship, but the realization that you’d loved Yeonjun for longer than you cared to admit, hurt more. Though, what hurt the most, was the conclusion that your love was likely unrequited. That night, you sobbed into the phone, and the second he heard your cracked voice, he hopped on his bike and headed in your direction.

It didn’t matter the time, he needed to make sure you’d be okay.

Naturally, he believed you were heartbroken from your breakup, so he attempted to soothe you with ice cream and cuddling. He pulled you against his chest and softly caressed your hair as you watched Titanic; it was supposed to make you feel better, but it made you feel significantly worse. He belted out the movie’s famous ballad in a feeble attempt to lift your spirit and for the first time that night, you smiled. It was a fake smile, of course, but he wasn’t privy to that. Nonetheless, he thought you looked breathtaking.

You complimented his soothing, silvery, beautiful voice — it made his heart swoon.

He was fourteen when he decided to become a singer. It was also at fourteen, he realized he was hopelessly in love with you.

· ──────────────────── ·

At fifteen, you rode the dinky, old subway with Yeonjun to a company audition — one he eventually passed and became a trainee for.

You were there the day he stepped foot into the building for his first training session. You were there when he felt like a loner amongst the other trainee, and you were there when he decided to become the absolute best, letting nothing get in the way of his dream. He set his sight high, and with that determination running through his bloodstream, he decided to express his undying love for you. So when you kissed him back, on the roof of his house, under the moonlight, after eating a gallon of ice cream, he felt like he had everything in his grasp.

After that night, you never let each other go. You stayed by each other’s side and fell more in love as the days passed by, remaining blissfully unaware of the pain the future had to offer. At least you were happy, even if that happiness was on a ticking clock.

· ──────────────────── ·

You were eighteen when you packed a bag and said goodbye to Yeonjun.

A month before high school graduation, you irrationally decided to study abroad in America. You weren’t stupid, you knew about the promise he made to himself when he was younger, his whole schtick of letting nothing stop him from his dream. You knew you were a hindrance, and it was only a matter of time before he realized that as well. You loved him with your entire heart, that much was obvious, but you didn’t want to be the thing to hold him back. He begged you to stay, he said he could have you and success, something you both knew was a plain lie. He couldn’t have you and be an idol, it was one or the other, but he was too stubborn to admit that to himself.

He drove you to the airport in a painfully silent car ride. He was angry, hurt, devastated by your decision to leave him, but you, on the other hand, felt complete and utter relief. He was so close to reaching his dream and all you truly wanted was his happiness, unfortunately, leaving was the only way you knew how to ensure it.

You cried as you said your farewell to him, but his blank face gave no indicator as to how he truly felt; he had barely spoken a word to you the entire week leading up to your departure. He stood motionless as you kissed his cheek, completely devoid of emotion — it hurt you. When you walked away, you felt heartbroken but much lighter. He watched your figure travel through security, unable to bring himself to leave. When you turned for a final glance, you noticed how broken he seemed, but you knew he’d piece himself back together — it would just be without you.

When you turned the corner, leaving his sight, he let every emotion flood his body. That night, he sobbed into his pillow, crying harder than he ever had before.

He’d lost you.

· ──────────────────── ·

You truly discover yourself at twenty. You graduated university earlier than everyone else, got your first and only tattoo, decided America wasn’t great, and moved back to Seoul. Hell, you even found your signature scent.

As much as the country itself sucked, your time in America served you well. You got your first job, experienced university life, made a friend or two, dated a lot, but most importantly, you got the degree you diligently worked for. Of course, it was hard to be away from him. You spent months holed up in your room, refusing to leave the apartment. It hurt the most when you watched his debut, seeing his face rushed every memory back to you. However, over a long period, you slowly pieced yourself back together and moved on. Eventually, you were able to think of him without feeling a sharp pang in your heart.

When you moved back, you weren’t surprised to see his handsome face plastered along the subway or on large billboards. It brought up old scars, habits, memories, but it reminded you that he was able to achieve everything he sought out to do. You, of course, knew he would, he was too stubborn and hardworking to fail; he was meant to succeed.

You just hoped he was happy.

While you were self-discovering in America, Yeonjun nearly gave up everything. He wasn’t proud to admit it, but countless times he almost bought a one-way ticket to you. However, a newfound brother held him back and kept encouraging him to move on. Not long after, he thanked Soobin for his support, had it not been for him, Yeonjun would’ve given up everything. He understood why you left and it was that knowledge that pushed him to work harder, he just wanted to make you proud, even if you were out of his life. He worked tirelessly to debut and once he did, he realized that despite everything, it was worth it.

If it was meant to be, he’d find you again.

He let his mind stray to you from time to time. He couldn’t help it, you were the love of his life. He truly hoped that wherever you were, you were happy.

· ──────────────────── ·

At age twenty-one, on a warm summer’s night, you left your apartment to head to a convenience store, searching for a pint of ice cream and an iced coffee, and maybe an energy drink if you were feeling desperate. Not a month into moving home, you had decided to pursue a master’s degree, but on a night such as this, where you frantically searched for any source of caffination just so you could complete your dissertation, you sorely regretted it.

You were met with harsh, fluorescent lighting as you entered the store but it was a welcomed relief, especially after staring wide-eyed at a computer screen for the past week. You browsed then snack aisle, too preoccupied to notice the soft jingle of the opening door. a tall, lean figure strut past your aisle, standing in front of the drink section for a bit, clearly having trouble deciding on a beverage. You made your way to the front, feeling content with your pint of ice cream, iced americano, and a bonus bag of pretzels. On your way, you stumbled into the hoodied boy and you cursed yourself because only you would run smack into the only other customer in the shop. You scrambled to pick up your scattered belonging, “Oh my God! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see where I was going, I’m such a klutz. Next time, I’ll pay more attenti—”

“Y/N, it’s you...” the soft, hushed voice cut off.

You stared at the young boy’s feet, slowly lifting your gaze to scan the rest of him, stopping at his broad chest, too afraid to look into his fox-like eyes. You knew it was him, of course, you did. It was the same deep, soothing, honeyed voice you spent your childhood falling in love with. Your breath caught in your throat as you dared steal a glance at his face. When you finally met his piercing gaze, he thought he saw the universe in your eyes. He opened his mouth in silent awe as a stray tear cascaded down his cheek. He moved toward you as if you were a flighty deer, and hovered his face closely. You thought he was going to kiss you, and surprisingly, you were quite eager despite the time apart. He pulled you into a loving embrace, so tight, you believed he’d never let go — not that you wanted him to.

That night, he accompanied you home.

Your heartfelt reunion was more than you could’ve asked for. He spent the night with you, doing nothing but catching up, laughing at past memories, eating ice cream, and slowly falling back in love. When he pressed you against your sink, he kissed you with everything he had. At that moment, you understood that despite the painful heartache, everything worked for the best.

You were truly meant to be, you found your way back to him.

Everything was complicated, unsurprising for an idol, but he saw the way you looked at him; it was a look that said you’d move every mountain and all the bright stars in the sky, just to make him happy. It was the same way he looked at you.

He told himself once, when he was a young five-year-old, that he wanted to stay by your side. He left it once, but he’d be damned if he ever left it again.

#txt imagines #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt scenarios #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun drabbles #choi yeonjun #idol!yeonjun #choi soobin #choi beomgyu #kang taehyun #huening kai #yeonjun #kpop fanfic #angst #fluff #txt #funky fox

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nerd-elf · 3 years

Text

Apologies might never be enough

One shot. It's 5 a.m. and I finally managed to put into words how I wanted the Solavellan ending in Trespasser. I gave up on all the explanations, all the lore about the ancient elves. It's all about closure. Lavellan deserves some closure.

I posted this on AO3 as well, click here to see it.

***************************

As I cross the eluvian, I hear them talking. In a blink, there’s another statue before me. I gasp in surprise, and that’s when he stops walking, turning to me. He looks determined, yet melancholic. There’s love in his eyes, but I’m sure he won’t falter for a second, he’s ready to sacrifice everything and go on with his plans. We don’t even have to talk. I get it. It’s just too much.

All my emotions are taking over now, there’s no turning back. I quickly come at him, and I see him getting more tense. His frown deepens as he blocks all my attacks, he doesn’t even take a step while doing it. I’m very aware he might turn me into a statue too, but I don’t care anymore. Tears run through my face while I attack with everything I have, focusing all my energy on ignoring the lancinating pain that starts in my left arm and spreads throughout my body.

All I feel is pain, and honestly, I’m tired of it. I can’t forgive him for loving me, yet leaving me alone. He never let me decide, never told me anything, so I could never choose. All I could do was fall deeply, madly in love with him, and watch him go. And after everything we’ve been through, now we’re on opposite sides.

It didn’t have to be this way; we could’ve found middle ground. Still, he wants to do everything alone. He turned his back on me without letting me have a say in the matter. And all my love turned into fury. Now I scream and grunt, coming undone while I try uselessly hit him. I can barely touch the glorious elven god I used to date.

The anchor bursts wildly around my arm, and I growl while trying to at least exploit it’s power to hit it’s creator. He grabs my arm firmly, using his magic to appease the mark. I exhale in surprise, seeing his eyes changing. I’m pretty sure that’s the end. “Please, stop. You’re going to kill yourself.”

Those are the first words he says to me, ever since he vanished. His tone is lower, and much sadder. He is still the polite and kind man I knew, but while to me it passed two years, it’s as if he’s been a decade away. He has completely changed, and now all his being shows the burden the Dread Wolf carries. When I catch my breath, only one thing pops into my mind. “The same.” My voice is as cold as I can make it.

That seems to hit him as if I had slapped him. Good. He’s responsible for all this. He turns his face away in guilt, and releases me. I fall to my knees, exhausted by the pain. He quickly catches me, sitting down and putting me on his lap. I don’t object, still I put myself as far from him as I can. I breathe shakily being so close again. I see his eyes conflicted, as if he’s struggling to not carry me home. Still, I don’t believe him. I can’t tell if I’ll ever believe him again.

Softly, he speaks, keeping his eyes away. “I never meant any of this to happen to you. And I’m aware apologies might never be enough. Still, know that I never lied when I told you how I felt. Your spirit is so wise, so kind, so beautiful, that no matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t able to stop myself from falling in love with you.”

He looks at me and pauses for a second. A glimpse of a grin spreads through his face, as if he is recalling the moments we’ve had. My heart skips a beat when our eyes meet, filling my mind with the thought of memories that seem to be from a thousand years ago. His semblant quickly hardens, and he continues.

“But pursuing that love just made me hurt you, you deserved better. I should have never acted on my feelings. I tried to walk away from it before I could slip and tell you everything, as I almost did so many times. Had I done that, I would have dragged you with me into my burden.”

He speaks gradually, as though he’s slowly acknowledging his actions, finally admitting his mistakes out loud. In that moment, I forgive him. He blames himself, more than I ever could, again taking responsibility for things he shouldn’t have to. We fell in love. It’s no one’s fault. Before I can think of saying anything, he goes on.

“You earned your anger, and your disappointment. But I’d rather leave you a thousand times, face your rage and sadness over and over again, than have you carrying the smallest portion of my mission. I could never do that to you.” He stares at me, filled with determination. I feel it passing through me as a dagger. He is decided to protect me, no matter what I think of that.

He finishes his speech placing sentiment in every word, and I cannot help but shed tears with the last words. “I hope you can move on, have a happy life with someone else before what is to come. You truly deserve to find joy, after all you’ve done for Thedas.” He never leaves my gaze while he speaks, carrying so much sentiment that I am completely sure he is not lying. When he sees the tears pouring down my face, I notice his jaw tensing, and his eyes going sadder. However, he doesn’t dare to move. There’s nothing to do anymore.

I keep silent for a while, processing his words. Then, I scoff with the irony, my lips trembling as I speak the bitter words. “Move on? Right. I see your point. Indeed, it’s very noble of you to say that. Still, there’s something you have to understand, you’re too far drowning in your selfish guilt to notice. The thing is, you idiot, I love you. You left me alone for two years, and I keep loving you. I learn that you are vilified by my entire people, and still, I love you. I find out you want to destroy this whole world, and, without question, I. Love. You.” I look deep into his eyes with every sentence, hoping that this time he will understand what I’m willing to do for the bastard.

For a moment, I think I see a glimpse of hope passing through his eyes, but in a blink he washes it away. He is too far gone. Still, I don’t accept it. I finish my sentence, more determined than ever. “While I still breathe, I am not giving up on you. No matter how many times you have the stupid idea of deciding something for me.”

He keeps silent, lowering his head with sorrow. I follow his gaze to my fingers, now intertwined with his. Only now I realize how I missed being this close to him. I look up again to see him watching me carefully, as if he were memorizing what I look like, afraid I could disappear at any moment. I analyze how every corner of his being is filled with sadness and guilt, as well as certainty.

His mouth parts to speak, but the anchor interrupts him. I scream in pain while my arm shines in green, and Solas swiftly grab it, while squeezing my other hand. “I’m sorry” he says, and I see his eyes changing again. I pull him to a kiss, gripping my fingers on his body, feeling the pain in my left hand fading as well as the sensation of the limb.

He puts his arms around me, and it is as if he never left. I have that familiar sensation that he is appreciating every second of it. He gently bends me on my back, firmly pulling me against him, exhaling when he feels I grasp my legs against his. His tongue slowly sways with mine, but urgently seeks my lips for more. He softly drags his fingers through my cheek, until they reach and unsettle my hair.

Too soon he pulls away, and I gasp in surprise and yearning. With the gentlest movement, he places a kiss on my hand, the only hand I have now. He gives me one last gaze, filled with sentiment. “I will never forget you.” He whispers to me, standing up and never leaving my eyes, carrying all the words that are forever unsaid between us.

I watch him go across the eluvian, and as if I fall apart, I feel my body surrendering, my sight slowly going black, as well with all the sounds fading, my mind stops. “Is this the end?” is everything I can formulate.

I wake up back in the Winter Palace, and my eyes slowly focus on a worried Dorian sitting beside me, changing the cloth on my head. I realize I probably had a fever with everything that’s happened. I try to reach him, and I see there’s no hand near him anymore. It’s gone. Along with the mark. Along with my heart. Along with my love. I’m sobbing in Dorian’s arms before I even notice, and he is patting my head gently with the softest voice I ever heard him use. “I am sorry my dear.”

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tigerseye46 · 3 years

Note

Some peachpigshiping with B6/13/58/60 and C30/41/60, please?

B6. “What if I told you that there’s a surprise for you outside?” B13. “I’m not the person you want in your life.” “Yes you are.” B58. “You look amazing.” B60. “I’ll continue doing this until you smile.” C30. “I love you, but I wish I didn’t.” C41. “Fuck you! Get out of my house!” C60. “Oh, now my opinion matters? I wish we had never met!”

I had fun with this one, here's some jealous Pigsy content!

Pigsy watches carefully as the two disguised monkeys interact with each other. Wukong says something snarky that the pig can barely catch, Macaque stutters and blushes then the king’s hand goes up to his mouth as he lets out a laugh. The scene makes Pigsy’s hand clench around the spoon he’s holding, tempted to throw it in between them.

Macaque has been around them for months, forced by MK and Wukong to join the group. At first the shadow monkey obviously loathed the idea at first, citing that being around the group was a fate worse than death, but he had gradually warmed up and repaired his relationship with Wukong.

Now the two monkeys were side by side most of the time, rarely did Pigsy see them alone together and he hated it with a burning passion.

He told Wukong that it was a bad idea to bring that monkey in and despite the fact that Macaque has changed, he still didn’t trust him. In fact, he wanted to murder that monkey when he had learned what he did to Xiaotian. That monkey could betray them at any moment! No way was he letting his guard down.

Although, he would be lying if the kid was the only reason he refused to trust Macaque. Wukong was his main reason. He had fallen hard for the king months before the other monkey had shown up.

They clashed for a long time, mostly due to Pigsy’s anger, before they were able to reach an understanding. He found things about the king that made his heart flutter, how beautiful poetic verses would slip out of his lips, how he was surprisingly thoughtful at times, his care for those around him, his determination and so many many things that showed why Wukong was so amazing, why he was so beloved.

But unlike most people, he saw Wukong, not just as a hero, but as a person.

He really likes the king and all he wants is the feelings to be returned.

The pig is brought back to reality when he hears more laughter, he lets out a sigh and furrows his brows.

Tang taps him on the arm. “Pigsy.”

He stares at the scholar. “What?” He hisses under his breath.

Tang giggles and comments, “If looks could kill, those two would be dead by now. Although, I’m sure Macaque is your intended target.”

“What are ya talkin’ about?”

The scholar places an elbow on the table, a hand underneath his chin as he gives a wide smirk. “That you like Wukong.”

He stomps his feet. “I do not! Shaddup, Tang.” He’s already told Tang about his feelings in private but no way is he letting Wukong overhear.

“You do,” Tang teases in a sing-songy voice.

“Quiet! They could hear!”

“Hear what?” Wukong questions as they walk up to them. Beside him, Macaque has his arms crossed, his chin puffs out and on his face is a smug smile. Pigsy growls, of course that six-eared bitch heard it.

“Nothin’,” he answers, sending the six-eared monkey a threatening look.

“Alright. When will the kid be back?” Oh, that’s right, the two had come here so they could get MK for training.

“A few minutes. The kid should be finishing his last order soon, if he doesn't get distracted, that is.” He chuckles then gestures to the seats next to Tang. “Sit down. I’ll make ya somethin’.”

“Okay.” The king’s smile makes his heart skip a beat. He turns around, not noticing the way the king gazes at with complete adoration and appreciation.

“Peaches,” Macaque starts, “remember that time we stole a whole bunch of candy and random items from that human village?”

Wukong snorts. “I remember. Didn’t one of those villagers throw a shoe at you?”

“And a barrel of hay!”

They laugh together which makes the pig fume. As he’s cooking, more stories and inside jokes are shared between them that he (and well, Tang) will never get. He wonders how many memories they’ve had with each other, he knows part of their history, how Macaque tried to replace Wukong to get him back for leaving, along with trying to replace his friends.

“You chose them over me?!” Macaque shouts with his teeth bared. “They’re pathetic!”

“Maybe so but they’re my friends! I won’t let you touch them!”

“You consider them your friends?” He gestures to four on the sidelines. They are a monk, horse, fish demon and a pig that has an aura that reminds him of his own. The group’s faces are a mix of panic and fear. “You’ve really downgraded, Peaches.”

“More like upgraded. Now, are we going to do this or not?”

The other monkey doesn’t answer him and instead wraps some shadows around himself, turning back into the perfect reflection of Wukong. They lunge at each other, confusing the others about who is who, the fight goes on, destroying rocks and creating cracks around their area.

At a certain point, one of them looks back at the group, concern and worry present in his eyes, and for a second, Pigsy can tell that’s the real Wukong. The scene feels so familiar, like he was there but that’s crazy, right?

He is brought back to reality when someone snaps their fingers, he turns and sees Tang with his fingers touching. “Uh, earth to Pigsy, you were kinda just standing there. You okay?”

“Hm? Yea, I’m fine.”

Wukong tilts his head and says, “Really? Because you haven’t even paid attention to your soup.”

“What?” The pot is almost whistling and the broth is bubbling way too much. “Oh shit,” he mumbles and lowers the heat. He finishes it quickly, pours it into two bowls, and adds the noodles. The smell wafts in the air. He passes it to the two monkeys. “Here.”

“Thanks, Pigsy,” Wukong says with a smile that shifts Pigsy’s cheeks to a tint of red.

“Yea, thanks Pigsy,” Macaque repeats with an eye roll. Pigsy ignores him.

They continue their stories while eating, Tang nods at certain points, laughing with them and commenting about different aspects. Pigsy enjoys getting to know more about the king but at the same time he’s boiling, like a volcano about to burst, it’s not a new feeling by any means. It’s probably the most familiar feeling out there for him, besides protectiveness, begrudging acceptance and masked contentment.

This whole thing is a reminder that he will never have this with Wukong. The king hardly notices him, sure, they talk and they understand each other now yet to the chef, he’s only a small presence, just acknowledged as the kid’s boss and not much else, barely a friend. He’s positive the king doesn’t give him much thought and that hurts the most, remembering that he’s considered one of the million unimportant people in Wukong’s immortal life. All he wants is to be part of Wukong’s world. A world that scarcely anyone is let into, somehow that includes Macaque, stupid monkey.

“Hey! I’m back,” MK greets as he walks into the shop and waves.

Wukong waves back. “Hey, bud. Ready to train?”

“Yep! Is that alright with you, Pigsy?”

The pig bobs his head. “Yea, go ahead, kid.”

“Thanks, boss!”

“Mhmm.”

Macaque ruffles the boy’s hair. “Can’t wait to kick your butt in training.”

“Bring it!”

Wukong rolls his eyes. “Try not to hurt each other too badly.”

“I’ll try, Peaches.” They both ruffle the kid’s hair again and Pigsy notices how they look like a happy family, he absolutely despises it so much so that his knuckles turn white.

He hates Macaque, if he gave the monkey a chance maybe he would like him but he doesn’t want to. The pig is clouded by jealousy. Wukong and Macaque’s closeness makes him sick to stomach. The king is sentimental, blind to the fact that the six-eared monkey will no doubt stab them in the back, maybe he needs another reminder.

He grumbles as Macaque leaves with the kid while Wukong lingers. Wukong spins around and takes something out of his pocket, money. He holds it out for Pigsy. “Huh?” Since when has the king paid before? Delivery orders aside.

“It’s for the noodles.”

“Ummm… ya don’t have to do that.” Maybe not having to pay for noodles will make Wukong happy, it’s a small gesture.

“Really? Aren’t you the one who complains when people don’t pay?”

Tang slams his bowl down with a thud and whines, “Yea! You always get mad at me for not paying.”

“That’s because you’re a freakin’ freeloader, Tang,” he snarls. “It’s on the house, Wukong.”

Wukong raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Are you sick or something?”

“No, just in a good mood.”

“Yea, I can tell by the bright smile on your face,” the king jokes.

The pig emits a small ‘tch’ noise. “Wow, you read me well.”

The monkey grins at that comment and leans over to hug him, he sucks in his breath. Tang sips his soup in the background, letting them have their moment. The hug is warm and gentle, the chef’s stomach does a light flutter, briefly he can pretend he matters to Wukong. He doesn’t notice when the other slips the money in his pocket, preferring to focus on the warmth and his imagination. For a moment, he can think I matter to him. He cares about me.

That is broken when Macaque peeks his head in and calls, “Peaches!”

Wukong separates from him, he holds in his disappointment, his fingers twitching to pull the king into another hug. He receives a playful wink. “See you!” The second monkey puts an arm around the king’s neck and leads him out.

Pigsy scowls and grips the inside of his pockets, when he feels something foreign, he takes it out, rolling his eyes fondly when he finds the yuán Wukong slipped in. He goes back to work, attempting to push down his anger and longing then receiving a small jab to his chest when he remembers again about how he doesn’t matter to the king.

Weeks pass by and the longing continues, growing stronger with each passing minute, each passing day, as it has been for a while. He dreams of finally having Wukong’s smile, yearning for the day the king will call him his, that they’ll get closer eventually, at least enough to finally matter to Wukong. It blinds him to Wukong’s loving gaze along with the small and soft touches.

Despite Pigsy's gruff nature, he is a pure softie underneath, he makes sure to give Tang an extra bowl of noodles if the scholar is having a hard day, never kicking him out of the shop. He takes it easy on Xiaotian, making sure the kid takes care of himself and so many other things. That same softness applies to when he’s in love.

One day, all of them decide to hang out together and unfortunately, that includes Macaque.

They’re walking together, Pigsy is in the back with his arms crossed while Tang, Sandy, Xiaojiao and Xiaotian are in the middle and a disguised Macaque and Wukong are in front, smiling and laughing. The pig is absolutely glowering at the pair, his eyes soften when Wukong turns back and shoots the group a small smile because no way is it directed solely at him. The monkey goes back to focusing on Macaque, the pig’s stomach twists and turns.

He balls his fists and lets out a low hiss. He watches as Macaque nudges the other monkey, whispering something, how the monkey’s cheeks shift to pink and a triumphant smirk appears on the six eared monkey’s face.

Pigsy decides at that moment to storm off, he can’t be there, he can’t watch as Macaque flirts with Wukong.

He misses it when Wukong glances back again with his brows raised.

Pigsy goes far away from the group, getting lost in the crowd of people. “Pigsy,” a familiar voice yells. He shakes it off and keeps walking. “Pigsy! Pigsy!”

He growls and spins to see Wukong running up to him. “What?”

The monkey stops in front of him. “You okay? You left without saying anything.”

“Fine,” he answers while his teeth grind together in anger. He stomps towards the direction of the shop with Wukong following.

“Really? You seem angrier than usual.”

“I’m fine,” he repeats.

“Uh huh. Someone’s grumpy.”

He huffs. “Not in the mood.” Go away.

A look of concern flashes across the king’s feature before going to a wide and charming grin. “You know I forgot to say this earlier but you look amazing,” he compliments and gestures to the blue flannel.

Pigsy’s pulse quickens and he suppresses the rosy red. “Thanks,” he mumbles, a frown still present.

“What? That didn’t make you happy? I’ll continue doing this until you smile.”

“What? Botherin’ me?”

“Exactly. Now come on. Let’s go back to the others, it might cheer you up.”

He grips the pig’s hand, Pigsy gasps and yanks it away. “Don’t touch me,” he hisses.

The king’s palm remains in the air, his mouth agape, he shakes it off. “Sorry. So where do you want to go? We can go anywhere you want.”

“I’m goin’ back to the shop by myself.”

“Sounds boring. Hang out with me, just the two of us.”

Just the two of them? No, he’s not going to stay. “I… I’m good.”

The king seems almost disappointed but why would he be? “Come on! It will be fun! We can spend some quality time together!”

He opens his mouth to reject Wukong again when a “Peaches” rings in the air. Macaque is a good distance away from them.

Wukong gives him a small wave and a gesture to stay where he is. The pig scoffs. “You should go to him. After all, I know how much he matters to you,” his voice drips with venom.

“Huh? Of course, he matters to me, you all matter to me.”

“Yea, right.”

Wukong lifts a brow. “Pigsy, what’s wrong? You can tell me anything.”

“Why do ya care?”

“Because you matter to me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Huh? You do. Is something wrong? I can make it better. I promise.”

He reaches for the pig again and the pig growls, “I said, don’t touch me!”

The king swallows roughly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you hated being touched. I’ll try not to do it again.”

Pigsy fumes, “Oh, now my opinion matters? I wish we had never met!” The last part slips past his mouth and he bites his lip.

The monkey’s ears droop. “Wh-what? Did I do something to upset you?”

No turning back now. “Yes!”

“What did I do?”

“Everythin’! Like makin’ my kid your successor and puttin’ him in danger!”

“Huh? I thought we were over that.”

“I thought we were too and it’s not just that. It’s every little bit of the things you’ve done. It’s how you laugh, your smile, your humor, every bit about you, includin’…” He clutches his chest. “Includin’ the way you make me feel. Bein’ around you makes me feel happier than I’ve ever been but at the same time it hurts. Knowin’ that ya don’t feel the same and never will. That there are a million other people you’d let into your world before me. That I’m so unimportant to you. That you look at Macaque more than you do me… that’s part of the reason I didn’t want him around because I knew you would rather be with him and I couldn’t bear it. Because… I love you but I wish I didn’t.

Something tightens in his gut at finally admitting this. He wrings his hands, focusing only on Wukong’s slacked jaw and widened eyes, not seeing the looks from people passing by them or Macaque’s smirk and crossed arms, head tilted in amusement.

Wukong is still like a statue and Pigsy feels like sinking into the ground where the king will never be able to find him. “Aren’t you goin’ to say anythin’?”

The king opens his mouth slowly. “Pigsy, I…” then he closes it.

Pigsy scoffs and lets out a laugh. “Gods, I knew it. I knew it would be this way.”

“No! Pigsy, I…”

“Don’t worry about it, Wukong. I already know your answer. Just confirms what I knew.”

“No! I-”

“It’s okay. I’ll… see you.” He rushes off, tears of frustration prick his eyes. When he gets back to his shop, he leans his head against the counter and sits there for ages.

Wukong doesn’t come to the shop for a few days and Pigsy’s mood sours significantly. He snaps more than usual and despite the others’ best attempts, he doesn’t open up to them, won’t smile.

He was aware of how Wukong would react, doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Pigsy is in his apartment when he hears knocking on the door. He growls and rubs his eyes. Who could be knocking at this time of night?

“Alright. I’m comin’. Hold your horses.” He opens it to reveal Macaque. He hisses, “Get out!”

“Nice to see you too and nice pajamas.” He snorts then pushes past Pigsy, he observes the place. “Interesting decor. We need to talk.”

He narrows his eyes and slams the door shut. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You don’t have much of a choice. Peaches is upset.”

“So? Shouldn’t you be with him then?”

“No. I should be with you. To tell you how stupid you are.”

Pigsy balls a hand into a fist. “Screw you!”

Macaque puts his hands up in defense. “Calm down. I meant no disrespect, well yes I did but that’s besides the point. You couldn’t have waited for Peaches to answer you?”

“I already knew his answer.”

“No, you didn’t. Peaches is an idiot. He wanted to answer but didn’t know how to start. Now he’s moping. It’s pathetic honestly. He misses you.”

“Why should he?”

“Because he likes you, idiot.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does. Look I don’t get what you and Peaches think I have.”

“A relationship obviously. You like him, he likes you.” Macaque roars with laughter. “Why are ya laughin’?”

“You- you think Peaches and I are together? Oh my gods. You really are an idiot. No wonder Peaches likes you!”

He stomps his feet and points towards the entrance. “Fuck you! Get out of my house!”

Macaque cackles and wipes a tear. “Hear me out first. Look, I know you don’t like me but what I’m saying is the truth. Peaches likes you, gushes about you all the time. He and I are just friends. All we’ll ever be. But you, he loves you.”

He rolls his eyes and yells, “Sorry if I don’t believe the monkey who clearly has a habit of lying!”

“That was before. I’ve changed, I promise. And I’m trying to pay back Peaches’s kindness. He loves you a lot. I don’t think I’ve seen him happier.”

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s not. What if I told you that there’s a surprise for you outside?”

“A surprise?”

The six-eared monkey swings the door open to reveal Wukong on the other side, his tail and ears are droopy and his gaze cast down on the ground. “Peaches!”

Wukong perks up, his golden orbs sparkle when he fixates on the chef. He lunges forward to wrap the pig in a bone crushing hug. “Pigsy!” His tail thumps to the ground.

Pigsy’s face flushes and he rests a hand on the king’s back. “Wukong…”

The king steps back and rubs the back of his neck, Pigsy holds back a whine at the loss of warmth. “Sorry! You said not to touch you.”

Macaque watches them then shrugs his shoulders. “Alright. Have fun. I’ll be off.” He walks away, leaving them to their own devices.

They exchange glances. Wukong starts with “Pigsy, I missed you.”

The king missed him? “I… ummm…”

“Can we sit down?”

“Huh? Oh! Uh. Sure.” They sit down on the couch. “Wukong. I…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry. Did I really make you feel that way? That I didn’t care about you?”

“Well… ummm… Wukong. It’s not that you didn’t make me feel that way. It’s just I thought ya didn’t. It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly. Why did you feel that way?”

“Well, look at me. I’m not you. I didn’t go on a journey, become a hero. I’m just some angry pig demon that runs a noodle shop. I don’t have any amazin’ powers. I’m nothin’ special. I’m not the person you want in your life.”

“Bite your tongue! Yes you are. I don’t care what powers you have. You’re amazing just as you are and you are a hero. I hear what you’ve done for the kid and the others… and you’re great. Really. You mean a lot to me.”

“I do?”

“Yea. I think of you a lot. Too much if you ask me. Despite your grumpiness, you have a great heart and… you aren’t afraid to tell me when I’m wrong and stuff. And I like you a lot. When you mentioned that there are people I would let into my world before you, that’s so untrue. You are one of the people I let see the real me.”

“Wukong…”

“I love you, Pigsy. I really do. I’m sorry I didn’t say it back before. I was surprised. I didn’t think you felt the same way. I tried to show I was interested. Did you never notice the way I looked at you?”

Pigsy blinks slowly, recalling everytime Wukong has ever looked at him, it’s more than he thought, there was always something unrecognizable in the king’s eyes and now notes it as pure love. “No, I didn’t.” He smacks his forehead. “I’m… I’m an idiot.”

Wukong laughs, his laughter sounds sweet. “Yea, you are, my dear idiot.” Pigsy flushes slightly at the affectionate tone that comes with the nickname. “But I am too.”

“I’m sorry I got jealous and snapped at you.”

“Pigsy, it’s okay. Your jealousy was kinda cute, hot even,” he adds with a wink.

“Sh-shush. Gods, I feel stupid now.”

“Oh, you should.” He receives a smack to his arm and he laughs again. “After you confessed, I was thinking a lot. I wanted to give you space but I got sad at the thought of you never wanting to see me again since I never responded. I’ve been wanting to confess for a while and I bought you this.” He pulls out a box and unlocks it to reveal a round golden bracelet with two gems.

Pigsy is amazed at the object. “Wow. This is gorgeous. Is this a courtship bracelet?”

“Yep. If you want it that is.”

“I do, it’s absolutely gorgeous but are ya sure you want to give this to me?”

“There is no one else I would rather give it to. May I?” The pig bobs his head, the monkey slides the bracelet onto his wrist and holds his hand. “Beautiful. It looks wonderful on you.”

“Tha-thanks. I love it.”

Wukong kisses his head. “I’m glad.”

“Ummm… Wukong, you kinda missed.”

“Oh?”

Pigsy cups his cheek. “Yep.” He kisses him on the lips, he can taste the peaches that no doubt has resided on the king’s mouth.

“Mmmmmm.”

They separate and lovingly stare at each other. “I’m sorry again.”

“Don’t be. I love you.”

“I love you too. Y’know maybe I’ve actually started likin’ Macaque after all.”

Wukong chuckles. “He’ll be glad to hear it especially now that I’m not “moping” as he puts it.”

“I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Wukong mimics and smooches him for a second time, his tail swishes from side to side. “You mean the world to me.”

“You do too.”

They kiss a few more times and as Pigsy leans against Wukong’s chest, it fills him with unspeakable joy to recognize how much he matters to the king, his boyfriend.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #peachpigshipping #peachpig #monkey king #sun wukong #monkie kid wukong #pigsy monkie kid #pigsy #six eared macaque #macaque #jealousy #my fic

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alovesongshewrote · 4 years

Note

For the requests, can you do Douxie x reader where the reader gets a job at the bookshop and conveniently forgets their sweater at work so Douxie has to lend them his hoodie 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Sweater | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot: haha, sweater go brrrrrrrrr

Word Count: 1,946

Warnings: Folding chairs and spiders

A/N: Idk what this is, but i hope you enjoy it

Tag List: @furblrwurblr

You had always wanted to work at a bookstore.

Ever since you were an angsty twelve-year-old who only found solace in books, it had been your dream to work amongst the written word. Too bad Chapters had shitty hours.

That didn’t matter now, though. GDT Arcane Books had excellent hours, a positive work environment, and the nicest couches to ever exist. They also had a painting of Guillermo del Toro. You weren’t sure why, but you loved it anyway. There was only one thing about the small bookstore that you loved more than the Del Toro painting, which is saying a lot, that painting was amazing.

Your coworker, Hisirdoux Casperan, was very quickly becoming your favourite human being in the entire world. He was sweet, selfless, and he cared about other people. He made you laugh more than anyone else, and he was there for you when you were stressed or anxious. Also, he had a cat. I don’t even need to tell you that cats are amazing.

The bookstore was the perfect place, and it only got better as the seasons changed. Fall in Arcadia was beautiful, fall in Arcadia in a bookstore was even better. GDT began to feel like a second home to you, so much, in fact, that you developed the habit of leaving things at work. It wasn’t your fault, things like this happen sometimes, and that’s okay. As long as you don’t forget anything too important, you should survive.

And then you forgot something important.

It wasn’t anything major like your wallet, but it was necessary to keep you warm in the cool weather, especially at night.

And it was night. And it was cold. And your favourite sweater was still in the bookstore. And you hadn’t realized until Douxie had locked the doors and you’d both gone your separate ways.

In short, you were a little bit screwed.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering slightly. This was fine. Totally fine. As fine as a dog drinking coffee in a burning room. The wind blew, shaking the branches on the trees and raising goosebumps on your skin. Lovely.

You braced yourself against the breeze, trudging forward, determined to make it home and have a hot cup of tea.

And then you heard a trash can fall over. Extra lovely.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with a Goblin or Shadow Mephit or something. You walked faster. There was another, louder crash behind you. You sped up again. You were not dealing with this tonight.

There was more noise from behind you, the universe clearly disregarding your wishes for a calm night. At this point, you were running. There was a limit to how much crap you could put up with, and it was a limit you were fast approaching.

Then Douxie flew into your side, bringing both of you to the ground.

“Douxie!?”

“(Y/N)!?”

Whatever had thrown Douxie at you roared from the alley. You couldn’t see it, but you could tell that it wasn’t anything good.

“You have to run,” your coworker said, getting to his feet and offering you a hand up.

“What? No, I’m not leaving you-”

“I’ll be okay, (Y/N), but you need to get out of here!”

Even if you wanted to, you didn’t have time to get out of there. What appeared to be a large stone spider emerged from the space between buildings. How this thing didn’t wake up the whole neighbourhood, you had no idea, and you couldn’t stop to think of one because the arachnid was now attacking. Douxie stood in front of you, shielding you with his body, and some kind of blue forcefield.

“(Y/N), GO!”

You ran, but you didn’t go home. Instead, you searched for something to fight with.

Monsters and magic were not a new concept to you, not when you lived in Arcadia. You’d gone through whatever the hell that troll-thing was, an alien attack, and several other crap-tastic world-ending events. This was just one monster, and you had Douxie, who was apparently a wizard on your side. This was not the problem you were expecting or even a problem you wanted, but it was one you could handle.

It took a minute of searching, but eventually, you found the perfect weapon. Someone had left a folding chair outside. It may not be an enchanted sword, or a serrator, or a gun, but folding chairs had done wonders for you during the troll-hell, and you figured it would work for you now.

You grabbed the chair and rejoined the fray.

Douxie was not pleased to see this. He really liked you. You were sweet, snarky and charming, and he really liked all of your quirks. He enjoyed your company and wanted to spend more time with you. He knew you were a strong person, and that you could take care of yourself, but he was really hoping that you wouldn’t have to deal with this. He knew it would kill him if anything bad happened to you.

But you lived in Arcadia, where bad things always happened, and you knew how to deal with this.

“EAT CHAIR, PUNK!” you yelled, bringing the chair down on whatever part of the spider you could reach. This didn’t make the spider happy, but you were able to avoid any and all attacks while repeatedly bashing the thing with your folding chair.

The wizard was at a loss for words.

While he wanted you to run home, he knew there was a high chance that you would stay, and a higher chance that you would stay and try to help him. The chair, however, had not been a part of these calculations, so all he could do was stare and watch as you kicked this thing’s ass. No one could blame him, it was very impressive and very attractive.

And kick-ass you did. You dodged attacks and landed hits, your folding chair proving to be as useful as ever. Eventually, you managed to wedge your weapon between the pincers of the arachnid, distracting it momentarily.

“Douxie! Now!”

Douxie snapped from his haze at the sound of your voice. He sent a wave of magic at the thing before opening the gate to limbo underneath it. You and Douxie were left staring at the ground where the thing had fallen through.

“Nice one,”

“Thanks,” the situation set in for both of you.

“Hey, wait a minute, what was that?”

“Oh, fuzzbuckets, are you okay?”

The two of you hesitated for a moment, held at a stalemate. You wanted answers, he wanted to know if you were alright.

You took this time to take in details you hadn’t noticed while beating up the stone spider. Douxie had some kind of band or cuff on his wrist. You had never seen that before despite working with him for a few months now. It was new. And it was pretty cool if you were telling the truth.

While you examined the cuff from where you stood, Douxie noticed that you were unharmed, but shivering slightly. You didn’t have your sweater on.

“Aren’t you cold?”

The question knocked you out of your thoughts, but fortunately, you were focused enough to answer, “Oh, uh, yeah, I forgot my sweater back at the bookstore,”

“Oh,”

Without another word, Douxie took off his hoodie, walked over to you and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“There you go, that should warm you up,”

You gingerly grabbed the edges of the hoodie, wrapping it tightly around your shaking frame. He was right, it did warm you up, but as your eyes ran over the tattoos on Douxie’s shoulders, you thought of a few more ways he could help you achieve that goal.

“Thank you,”

“Of course, love,”

The wind blew by again. It wasn’t so bad this time.

Then you realized how late it was.

“Oh, god, I should be getting home, I-”

“Let me walk you,”

“Are you sure?”

“(Y/N), I know you can defend yourself,” he cast a cautious glance towards the discarded folding chair, “But it would make me feel a lot better to know you got home safe,”

Your cheeks warmed at the sentiment. It was nice to be cared about.

“Ok. Come on, I’m this way,”

The walk started off in silence.

Douxie’s hoodie was soft. His tattoos were really nice. It was still kinda cold, but Douxie showed no signs of feeling the temperature.

But it was too quiet. You needed to talk about this.

“Hey, Doux? You mind telling me what that thing was?”

The wizard sucked in a deep breath, “To be honest, I don’t know yet. I’m still figuring that one out,”

“Huh,” you supposed that was a valid answer, “Let me know when you do,”

Douxie smiled for a moment. He told you that you’d be the first to know. Then his face fell. He almost looked scared, but there was nothing around you to be scared of. You were a bit confused, but your attention stayed on Douxie.

“(Y/N), until this is all sorted out, could you avoid going out after dark? I don’t want you getting hurt,”

That was a bit of an understatement. If you got hurt at all, it would kill him. If you got hurt by something he could have protected you from, it would destroy him.

“I’ll do my best, but you know I get off from work late,”

“Then I’ll walk you home,”

“I’d like that,”

You were a bit surprised by how determined he was to keep you safe. It was really nice to have someone watching out for you for a change. It made you feel warm on the inside.

After that, the conversation turned to normal things. Music, books, anything other than stone monsters with no name. Douxie did ask where you learned to wield a folding chair, but some things are best left to the imagination.

You were actually sad when your house came into view, something you never thought possible. You’d been enjoying your time with Douxie so much, you didn’t want it to end. Unfortunately, you did not control the universe.

“Well, this is me,” you took off the hoodie, which was also a sad event. You held it out for Douxie to take, “Here-”

“Hang onto it,” the wizard said, taking your hands under the hoodie for a moment, “At least until you get your sweater back,”

You both pulled away, blushing, 100%.

“Thank you,”

“It’s no problem, really,”

There was another moment of silence. You both had so much to say, but no idea how to say it.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow,”

Douxie watched as you opened the door to your home, and stepped through the door. A surge of energy ran through him. He had to say something, anything, or he would regret it.

“(Y/N)?”

You spun around to face him faster than either of you thought possible, “Yes?”

Douxie paused. He didn’t think he’d get that far, to be honest. But you were watching him with anticipation, waiting for him to speak.

“Just… stay safe, okay?” it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say, but it was close enough.

“I will if you do,”

The smile on your face was the best thing he’d seen all day.

He was so distracted by the curve of your lips that he didn’t even notice that you had moved to stand in front of him.

“Thanks again, Douxie,” and with that, you left a small kiss on his cheek and entered your apartment, leaving Douxie a blushing mess on your doorstep.

“Douxie? Are you alright?”

“I’m much better than alright, Arch,”

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux #fluff #chaotic #chaotic reader

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artekai · 4 years

Text

I recently picked Mystic Messenger back up, and combined with my P5R brainrot, it gave me a crack crossover idea that just won’t leave me alone:

AU where Rika and V are Takuto’s parents.

Okay, hear me out for a second.

(Bear in mind that it’s been a year since I last played Mystic Messenger and I haven’t seen all the endings yet -- I haven’t played Rika’s Before Story or V’s After -- so this might not make any sense in canon and the characterization might be all over the place. Then again, it’s a crack AU, so…)

Major spoilers for both Mystic Messenger and Persona 5 Royal under the read more!

The beginning is fairly obvious. Rika and V are an inseparable couple, they get engaged, she gets pregnant. But then The Mint Eye thing happens.

Rika considers getting rid of the baby just because it’s V’s, but deep down she still has feelings for him. Plus, having a baby in the cult is like getting a new believer but without all the purifying process, right? So she keeps the child.

Rika treats Takuto similarly to how she treats MC: she’s strangely kind to him, she mostly keeps him away from the other believers, and she doesn’t force him to take the elixir or anything. She already sees Takuto as being purified, because he’s just a toddler, so no need for all those painful rituals; she just needs to raise him the way she wants. Of course, since he’s the savior’s son, all of the believers think he’s like Baby Jesus, so no one bothers him.

You know what happens then. Canon happens. I’m not sure what route and what ending would fit this, but it needs to be a route where they go to Mint Eye and save Saeran. Maybe V’s Normal Ending? I don’t know, I can’t remember if Saeran survives in that ending. Well, let’s assume he does because I need that for my sanity.

And if he doesn’t, then I don’t care tHIS IS A FIX-IT AU.

please let me have this.

So, anyways, they infiltrate Mint Eye, they save Saeran, and they find Takuto. Given that V has been infiltrating the Mint Eye for a while, he already knows about him, and by now he has figured out that that must be his child. Either way, they get him away from the cult before any “cleansing” can take place, and V and MC commit to taking care of him.

Takuto starts off as a very anxious kid, which is normal considering that a bunch of strangers suddenly took him away from his mother and everything he has ever known. He mainly sticks with Saeran (which isn’t good for either of them), but, over time, MC gets him to open up to her and V and, eventually, to the rest of the RFA. Of course, Rika already drilled her ideas of “true paradise” and “eternal happiness” into him, so V and MC take it upon themselves to decondition him and reeducate him. Their efforts pay off, as Takuto eventually manages to adjust to normal society fairly well, but you know that those cultish ideas will still linger in the back of his mind, even if he doesn’t realize it.

Though his memories of Mint Eye completely fade away with age, Takuto inherits V’s gentleness and self-sacrificial tendencies and Rika’s madness and obsession with eradicating pain. When he’s mature enough, he also learns about what happened around that time (but maybe he doesn’t have all the details), because V and MC are determined to not keep any more harmful secrets like they used to.

Anyways, growing up with the RFA fuels Takuto’s natural passion for helping people. Yoosung introduces him to cooking, Jaehee teaches him her work ethic, Saeyoung transfers him his love of cats and animals in general (which is why, in Takuto’s words, “they don’t seem to share the sentiment”), and Zen constantly reminds him to never give up his dreams, no matter how crazy they might seem. He tells him about how he ran away from home to pursue his dream career and has never regretted it since, which Takuto takes very seriously.

As for Jumin, Takuto thinks that he’s too cold-hearted, but he looks up to him for his managerial talent and admires the bond that he shares with his father. When V and MC are away from home, Jumin offers to babysit Takuto for them, so he gets many exclusive tours of C&R, where he starts dreaming of growing up to work on a project much larger than himself with experts in the field (read: leading a team of researchers and having his very own lab).

Takuto also sees that Saeyoung and Saeran are getting along well and slowly overcoming their trauma together, so he comes to believe that everyone can change for the better, and thus, that everyone deserves a second chance, regardless of the mistakes they’ve made in the past. This will come into play at least two times: First, in his reality, when he lets Akechi and most of the Palace Owners roam free; and, second, when he decides to turn his own life around after the change of heart.

Anyways, Takuto meets Rumi, begins dating her, graduates high school, goes to college, and gets engaged after a few years.

V has always felt uneasy about Takuto dating. He knows that Takuto is too nice for his own good, so a part of him is afraid that he’ll end up in an obsessive relationship like the one he had with Rika. But, when Takuto introduces Rumi to his family, he and MC can tell that she’s supportive, well-adjusted, and considerate of Takuto’s feelings, so they are happy for both of them.

And then the burglary thing happens.

Takuto closes himself off from friends and family, overcome with grief and guilt. He still keeps in contact with the RFA, but it’s only because he knows that they will only get more worried if he stops talking to them altogether. Everyone at RFA is concerned, but V especially so, because he understands the pain of losing your fiancée and blaming yourself for not being able to do something to help her, and he doesn’t want Takuto to deal with it on his own.

After Takuto rewrites Rumi’s memories, he tells the RFA the same thing he tells everyone: he and Rumi broke up and it was his fault. This isn’t the RFA’s first rodeo, so most of them can tell that he’s hiding something, but they’ve known him for a long time, they know he’s a good person, and they basically raised him, so they decide to trust him (for the most part).

Takuto isolates himself more and more, acting like he’s fine to avoid being a burden, convinced that he must solve his problems by himself, like his father does. V and MC can see where this is going, and the former keeps spamming the messenger, practically begging Takuto to give him a call and talk to him, or at least get some therapy. But Takuto insists that he’s okay, that he doesn’t want them to worry about him, and that he just hasn’t contacted them much because he’s busy with work.

V starts blaming himself for being unable to reach out to his son, but, when he realizes that Takuto got his self-blaming habit from him, and only blames himself further.

As for the other RFA members, Jumin thinks that Takuto needs time to grieve and that, if he doesn’t want to accept their help, there’s nothing they can do about it. Jaehee is disheartened but she reluctantly agrees, hoping that Takuto will go back to normal soon. Zen thinks that they should be doing more for him, and that, if they put enough effort into it, he will come around.

Yoosung might revert back to his old ways and question V on why he isn’t doing enough to help his own son. Seeing as Takuto is his cousin and everything he has left of Rika, I’m sure he's very protective of him...

Once they all get worried enough, Saeyoung tracks down Takuto with his hacking skills, but he doesn’t find anything suspicious, so they decide to respect his privacy. After all, V doesn’t want to get too obsessive and repeat the mistakes he made with Rika, so he decides to listen to Jumin’s advice and give Takuto some space, hoping he’s making the right choice.

Meanwhile, Takuto figures out that Shido is behind the conspiracy that took away his research, which only strengthens his resolve to keep everything a secret from the RFA. Shido is too similar to the Choi twins’ father, and Takuto is afraid that, if Saeyoung hears about this, he won’t let it go, which could bring back some awful memories from his childhood and the Mint Eye thing… Especially considering that Akechi is in a similar position to Saeran, except that, you know, at least his mother wasn’t deliberately cruel to him.

A lot of the sympathy that Takuto feels towards Akechi comes from his experience with the Choi twins. He can deduce that he’s being manipulated by Shido like how Saeran was manipulated by Rika, so he wants to save him just like how V saved the twins. That also applies to the Yoshizawa twins, since the two of them promised to always be together in pursuit of their dream, but Sumire was the “weaker” of the two and was secretly envious of Kasumi. All in all, the similarities are everywhere, which might, consciously or subconsciously, affect the way Takuto interacts with the PTs.

In any case, Takuto just wants to protect the PTs from the same kind of trauma that the RFA went through. But -- he isn’t like Rika, or so he tells himself. He’s convinced that his methods are right because they can save everyone without causing any more suffering. He’s pretty sure he’s sane (he’s not). Besides, Rika’s dream was originally pretty noble, so it should be fine as long as he doesn’t start drugging people, right?

(He will retraumatize them, hold them hostage, and brainwash them, though, because he doesn’t see it as such)

The third semester comes along. I’m sure you also know what happens here. Takuto gets a god complex, the PTs fight him, defeat him, steal his treasure, and they destroy his perfect reality.

After the change of heart, Takuto is crushed, so he goes back to V and MC and confesses the whole truth through tears. He profusely apologizes, fully aware of how he retraumatized all of the Phantom Thieves to guide them to ‘salvation’, not unlike what Rika did to the members of Mint Eye, and he takes responsibility, knowing that he should’ve asked for help much sooner.

V and MC are shocked and heartbroken, faced with the fact that their son suffered so much that he fell into insanity and no one even noticed. They feel as if, with all the trauma that the RFA has already gone through, they should’ve seen the warning signs, and they should’ve tried harder to help Takuto heal… but they know from experience there’s no guarantee that that would’ve solved anything, so it’s pointless to dwell in what-ifs.

V and MC listen to Takuto’s explanation. They don’t understand any of the cognitive psience stuff and they are sure that he’s delusional because of the whole reality thing, but they comfort him to the best of their abilities. MC tells Takuto that he’s not like Rika and that he can always make up for his past mistakes, while V assures him that it wasn’t his fault and that, if someone like V could get back on his feet after everything that happened with the Mint Eye, Takuto can do it too.

Takuto takes their advice to heart, choosing to leave counseling, seek therapy, and make amends with his former patients. The RFA supports him while he gets his life together (but Jumin didn’t teach him how to drive, of course… oh god please tell me Jumin didn’t teach him how to drive), and he begins (continues?) to volunteer for the association’s charity events, so that he can keep helping people in need. That’s around the time when the P5R ending happens.

And… yep. That’s pretty much it.

Bonus points if Takuto ends up introducing the RFA to the PTs and they all become a big, happy found family. Jaehee and Akiren can bond over coffee making, Yoosung and Ryuji can bond over games, Zen and Ann can bond over acting and modelling, Jumin and Makoto can bond over being robots, V and Yusuke can bond over art, Saeyoung and Futaba can bond over memes and hacking, Ray and Haru can bond over flowers, and Saeran and Akechi can bond over their hatred of their fathers, haha.

Anyways, this crack AU became way more serious and more wholesome than originally intended... Now I actually want this to be a thing, haha.

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skribbz · 3 years

Note

i know im sending u tons of these but ELLIE

Oh boy here we go

First impression

I actually didn’t know anything about TLoU before I played it except for it being a zombie game. Since zombies have always been a super special interest for me, I had to play it. So actually playing it was like being smacked in the face with emotions.

But I didn’t even know about the existence of Ellie, so my first time seeing her was when Joel meets her. I thought she seemed cool, but a little abrasive. She did make me laugh though.

Impression now

Oh god where do I even start.

I’m not even exaggerating when I say Ellie helped me become who I am today. I related to her in so many ways. Not just in the way she's so nerdy, but also in how she treats others. She was just a kid who was let down by the world around her, yet she still wants to do what she thinks is best for everyone. She's sentimental, holding onto keepsakes from the people she's lost. She can have a bad attitude sometimes, but is just a complete sweetheart. She goes through so much, and even when Joel gives her the option to just go back home, she decides to keep going.

Ellie came into my life when I needed a role model. The way she had gone through so much, but didn't let it break her soul, the way she always found a way to "endure and survive", meant so much to me at the time, and even now. She also helped me accept the fact that I wasn't straight. Seeing a character who I already admired so much, kissing another girl made me just break down crying.

When they said that Ellie was going to be the main character of the second game, I cried again. I think the second game just really expands on the reasons I loved her in the first one. She still tries to do what she thinks is best. It's not always the right thing, and sometimes it's very much the wrong thing. But she has so much guilt over Joel, yet still loves him so much she's willing to do whatever it takes to give him the justice she thinks she deserves, even if she knows it's not at all what he would want her to do. (There's so much more to her thoughts and actions in the sequel of course, but I feel like this is one of the most important ones.) It's just like the first game where she's willing to go to any ends to do what she thinks is right, no matter how much it may hurt her in the process.

I think in the end she has realized that her life means more than just being the cure. Her life matters just because she’s alive, is loved, and loves others, and that message means a lot to me, and I’m sure to many others, too.

I think Ellie is such a wonderful character, and one of the most well written characters I've ever seen in any media. She really changed my life, and because of that she is my favorite character ever.

Favorite moment

HOW am I supposed to choose just one.

Does the entire winter section count? It shows much she loves Joel, and how strong she has become by that point, and how determined she is to survive. She sees just how truly awful some people in the world can be, and despite it she still wants to do whatever she can for the cure.

It’s our first look into what would become a major theme of the second game. While David’s town is an enemy to Joel and Ellie, and we as players hate them, they were doing what they thought was best to survive. Cannibalism isn’t right by our standards, but that’s because we haven’t been pushed to that point. But would we be willing to turn to it if we were pushed that far? Is it more acceptable to kill innocent people to feed a whole community that’s depending on you, or is it more acceptable to just let all of those innocent lives that are depending on you die?

I think we can all agree on one thing though. David is a piece of shit and deserved to be chopped up into teeny pieces.

Idea for a story

I have many ideas. But I'll go with where I think her story can go from here, AKA my TLoU3 idea.

The story starts 12 or so years later. Putting JJ around 13. Dina, Ellie and Abby 32-33. Lev around 25. Tommy and Maria probably late 50s-early 60s

Ellie is back in Jackson. She works her ass off doing whatever manual labor she can because all she wants to do is just work herself into exhaustion. She's dealt with her trauma and she’s in a better place mentally now. Now her reasons for shutting everything out is that she’s too scared to try and really reconnect. She wants companionship but is afraid of the pain of losing it all again.

The exception is when she has JJ. He is still the light of her life. She takes him hunting and camping and plays video games with him and they geek out over comics. She has taught him to draw. She wants to teach him guitar like she promised, but hasn’t been able to yet.

The only time she sets foot outside of Jackson is with JJ.

Dina is of course doing something that uses her skills. Maybe the lead electrician at the dam. They've kept JJ very innocent. Obviously he knows of the infected, and has seen his moms kill them before, but he doesn’t know just how bad it really is, he’s never seen another human die.

Her and Ellie are amicable. They are happy to be co parenting jj but there's nothing between them (for now).

Maria holds a lot of guilt. Over sending Joel and Tommy out that day, over not giving Ellie and Dina help in Seattle, which got Jesse killed, over letting Tommy get as bad as he did after Seattle. She blames herself for the way Ellie is. She tries to spend time with Ellie, but Ellie is very elusive when she wants to be. She adores JJ though. That's her little great nephew. His auntie is the leader of the whole town and he uses that to his advantage every chance he gets. And she lets him.

Tommy has a little guilt. He doesn’t know Abby is alive, Ellie only ever told him she “finished things” and didn’t talk to him much after that. But he sees how she is a complete mess and lost her fingers. He knows that guitar was special for Ellie, plus any kind of disability is a huge disadvantage in their world. Dina doesn’t let JJ near him. JJ doesn't understand why and no one will tell him

Tommy and Maria never worked out their differences and have stayed separated, partly because of their guilt toward what happened with Ellie. They cared about her like she was their own and they both let her down

Jackson is now huge. They’ve made contact with other settlements, and have trade routes. But Maria is getting older and the town is getting too much for her to run on her own. Tommy is getting up there in age as well, and despite his injuries he still does patrols. But alone. He’s not actively trying to get killed, but he isn’t always as careful as he knows he should be.

Story starts out and you're playing as Tommy on patrol. He gets ambushed by a small group of people. And lo and behold Abby (and Lev) is there. Tommy is shocked when he finds out who it is, and he asks if she came to finish the job she started. She says no they tracked him since he left the town and were waiting to get him alone because she has news for him. The fireflies have rebuilt stronger than ever and now they’re back out for the cure and are coming for Ellie, because she is the only known source, but also as a form of revenge for what Joel did all those years ago, destroying what the Fireflies once were. They were able to get there first because they only brought a few people and set out before the main squad. Tommy asks why he should believe her, and she says that Ellie saved her life years ago and it's the least she could do to pay her back. (just like. Assume that there was enough info stored with the fireflies that Abby could work out who Ellie is). To keep Tommy from attacking or following him, they knock him out and untie him then leave.

Control switches back to Ellie who is doing her chores around town. You get to nail fences, chop wood, and carry hay bales. Fun. Later that night, as Ellie is getting home, standing on her porch, Tommy rolls up and confronts Ellie about Abby being alive. They get into a huge fight and Ellie tells Tommy that he fucked up her life. It's his fault she lost Dina. His fault she only gets to see jj when Dina allows it, his fault Jesse was killed. And its his fucking fault Joel died.

He storms off. But then Ellie notices J standing on the street coming to stay the night. She had forgotten this was her night with him. He’d been told his whole life that moms had a peaceful break up, and that dad and grandpa Joel died being heroes, but now he’s upset about what he's heard so he runs back home to Dina.

That night Ellie is woken up by fighting in Jackson. She runs out to try and find what's going on. All she can get is that fireflies are attacking. She eventually finds out that some travelers shot Maria and a fight broke out. Ellie fights through the town to Maria. She's injured with a gunshot in the arm, but alive still and kicking some ass. She tells Ellie that fireflies came asking for her, and would leave peacefully in return. She told them no and they shot her. Maria says she’ll be okay and tells Ellie to go find JJ and get him to safety.

She fights through to the other side of town. Because of the commotion, infected have broken in so there’s humans and infected running around killing. She gets to Jesse's house and JJ is hysterical, Dina is holding him down and he's like screaming and crying. His grandpa fought off a firefly who was trying to get in their home and was shot and killed. It hits Ellie that this is all her fault. People are dying because of her again. Anyway she tells dina and robin that they need to leave. Dina says she's not going anywhere without Ellie. Ellie wants to stay and fight, but JJ is more important right now. So the 4 of them sneak out and near the gates they meet up with Tommy. He’s helping get people out and sending them to one of the patrol lookouts that is secure and can fit everyone.

Ellie sends Dina, Robin and JJ off. Ellie gives JJ Joel's revolver and tells him to keep mom and grandma safe for her. She goes back to Tommy and the two get back to Maria. When they are very close to her, an infected ambushes them and Tommy gets bit. They get to Maria who is losing blood fast and doesn't look well. After a lot of arguing from Ellie, the pair decide to stay. They tell Ellie they’re old now. Maria wont last long with her wounds, and tommy has no chance of surviving his. They apologize to Ellie for the way things turned out and how much she has meant to them all these years. They give her all their ammo except for one bullet in each of their guns, because that's all they need now. Ellie begs them to come along, and she’ll figure something out for them. But they eventually convince her to go. Ellie leaves crying, and Maria and Tommy maybe get a cute moment before cutting back to Ellie.

Ellie makes it back to where the survivors are and is depressed that there's way less than she was expecting. JJ has cried himself to sleep and Dina notices Ellie is acting strange and pulls her away to ask her. Ellie tells her what happened and Dina holds her while she cries. It's the first time anyone has really been physically affectionate with her in a long time so Ellie clings to her as she lets it all out

The last survivors decide that Jackson isn’t safe. It's too damaged, filled with infected, and no one can figure out what the fireflies were doing. Ellie can't bring herself to say anything about it.

The next morning, everyone wakes up and is discussing what to do. JJ is still inconsolable. Ellie decides to take him away from the group to get some fresh air. She tells him to hold on to Joel's revolver. They chat and JJ asks what happened to auntie Maria and Tommy. She decides to be honest with him. She expects him to cry, but is shocked to see him become angry instead. He basically swears revenge for them and for his grandfather. This of course stirs up a lot of very negative thoughts in Ellie, but she decides to let him grieve in his own way for now.

That’s everything I have written out in detail for now. But the main idea would be Ellie becoming a leader to the few remaining survivors as they make contact with the other settlements that Jackson is allied with. She would take responsibility for all of these lives. They would be her reason for fighting now.

Over the course of the game, Abby would come back and her and Ellie would be forced to team up. There’s no more animosity between the two though, they’re both over it and don’t want to go back down that road. Over the course of the story they would come to understand each other’s actions. They wouldn’t become friends, but they can at least rely on each other.

JJ would find out that Abby is the person responsible for Joel and Jesse’s death, and she came from the group that killed his grandfather, Tommy and Maria. He’d go into a rage and try to attack her and Ellie would have to hold him back. He wants to know why Ellie is defending the person who hurt everyone they loved. Ellie would have to finally tell him the whole story, and try to keep him from giving into his anger and sadness like she did in the second game. She won’t let her son become like her. She wants him to stay her innocent baby boy, but she knows that’s just not possible in their world.

Other stuff that I have yet to flesh out:

More about Dina’s backstory. Or at least her last name.

Lev being a big brother to JJ.

Dina and Ellie falling in love all over again as Dina sees Ellie doing so much for the rest of the community. It’s gonna be emotional.

Ellie teaching JJ how to play guitar, and tearfully singing Future Days to him.

Unpopular opinion

I’m not sure of what people’s opinions on her are. I know most people love her and anyone who doesn’t isn’t entitled to an opinion.

I guess one is I’m not a fan of her farm hairstyle. Her Seattle look was just so cute. Why did you do that to your head, girl.

Favorite relationship

Dina of course.

I feel like Dina represented what Ellie could have if she wasn’t stuck in the past. Joel represented her violent past, and her traumas. Dina represented her future, her home, her family. Ellie was so stuck in the past, that she couldn’t see the future standing literally right in front of her.

It’s a great representation of how she holds onto the people she loves, but also how PTSD works. The past keeps coming back to haunt her.

Favorite headcanon

I hc her as autistic! I kinda feel bad because everyone else hcs her as having ADHD. But I’m autistic so I say she is too *sunglass emoji*.

Why I think she’s autistic:

Obviously her special interests would be space and dinosaurs, and the way she talks about them reminds me of how I get when people let me infodump about my SIs.

The way she plays with her fingers looks hella like stimming to me. In fact, that’s one of my stims!

Her interest in art and music.

Her interest in general nerdy stuff like comics and video games.

She collects cards, and collecting is a big autistic trait.

The way she’s sort of untidy and cluttered, yet labels all of her boxes of shit. The ordered mess is such an autistic thing.

#apocalypsebutch #this is 2861 words

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theexecutionerssong · 3 years

Note

Hey Gaëlle ! Est-ce-que tu aurais des recommendations de fic Destiel ? Sans trop de smut, surtout pas beta/Omega (c'est même plus du smut à ce niveau-là...) et beaucoup de pining ? ( Je devrai être en train de réviser mes partiels d'ailleurs... 😅). Merci beaucoup ! 😌

Hellooo ! Alors tu as frappé à la bonne porte parce que je lis jamais de smut, ou alors quand c’est dans des longues fics, je passe juste ces passages là. (mais j’aime beaucoup les fic a/b/o qui ont pas de smut, parce que les sentiments sont quintuplés donc pining + angst on a whole other level). Y’a peu de fluff dans mes fics préférées, love me some angsty life and death moments, mais ça finit toujours bien. Enfin. Vérifie les tags quand même :)))) J’ai mis les liens, si y’a pas c’est qu’elles ont été supprimées mais j’ai les pdf donc hit me up.Et révise tes partiels !!!!

CANON

A turn of the earth -https://archiveofourown.org/works/5138552/chapters/11825306

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

Probably my favorite fic set in Canon. It’s set around season 11, and I love how we dive into Dean’s past pre-series and then as time goes by, we catch up with the show timeline’s. It’s incredibly well written.

525,600 Minutes - https://archiveofourown.org/works/507228/chapters/892693

A man wakes up alone on the streets of Detroit. Lost and somehow forgotten, he's dressed in blood-soaked clothing without memories and without a name.

This is his journey to find it.

It was first published in 2012 set after s5, but it was rewritten last year. I still have the old version for nostalgia’s sake but the new version is even better. It’s got some amnesia so great for pining :))))

The inexhaustible silence of houses -https://archiveofourown.org/works/560268/chapters/1000755

Almost two years after the world doesn't end, Castiel falls from grace—and loses his voice in the process. It is the impetus for confession and change; before long, he is settling into a loving relationship with Dean, the Winchesters are tired, and hunting for a place to land has taken precedence to hunting anything else. Dean and Castiel fall in love with the strange little house on the end of Swallowtail Drive, and for a little while life is as it should be—sweet, affectionate, and beginning afresh.

But more and more Castiel sees and hears things in the house that beg the question of whether or not a place itself can be alive. The walls and rooms seem to shift and grow and breathe, and one night, Dean comes home from a hunt changed in a way that Castiel cannot explain. In the months that follow, their domestic bliss takes turns for the dark and sour, and the confusion of their circumstances will ultimately test everything Castiel knows about the man he loves, and everything he believes to be true.

Listen, I cried. I cried SO MUCH. There was a lil fandom war going on for a time between which was the hardest, this one or Twist and Shout, and both destroy me completely. But this one is set in canon and closer to the characters, to me, so I’ll always recommend this one first (unless you want a happy ending, in which case, don’t read it)

Only if for a night - https://archiveofourown.org/works/826303

Castiel is captured by a djinn. Dean goes slightly crazy, and Cas discovers a thing or two about himself.

I’m a sucker for Dean/Cas in Djinn verse and this one is by far my favorite.

The Bird That Feels The Light (not slash) https://archiveofourown.org/works/210860

AU from 5.18 (or thereabouts). Castiel awakens in the middle of a smoking crater, stranded and very much human. According to the people who have discovered him, it’s six months to the day after Michael and Lucifer faced off on the field of battle outside of Detroit, and Castiel isn’t the only one to have returned. When, at his insistence, they take him to this other person, he finds a child –a little boy– and realizes that, contrary to all his expectations, he has been reunited with Dean Winchester. The world has changed in their absence, and not for the better. Sam is gone, whether dead or simply missing is uncertain. Castiel is given the name of a man in Idaho who may have answers for him. He is faced with the task of travelling cross-country with Dean, who is dependent on him now in ways he never was before, in order to discover the truth. But along the way, as he and Dean learn to know and trust each other once more, Castiel begins to realize that the answers he thought he wanted might not be the ones he needs.

It’s not slash at all since Dean is a kid but I’ve read it probably about 20 times and I still love it as the first time. There’s just something about human Castiel carrying a 4 year old Dean across the world and fighting monsters and demons and humans to survive that gets to me.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - https://archiveofourown.org/works/747324

Castiel travels with the angel tablet and without the Winchesters. One day, Dean gets a text from some anonymous number. (They speak in the language of need.) A post-08.17 Goodbye, Stranger story.

If you want pining, this one is definitely for you.

Last Man Standing - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8363328/1/Last-Man-Standing

This one is set just after the season 7 finale, it’s a Purgatory fic with so.much.pining I always need to hold a pillow to my chest when I read it or I go insane sdfghjkl I haven’t read it in probably 4 years but I remember absolutely loving it.

Outrun my gun - https://archiveofourown.org/works/281887/chapters/448388

"The two of you are so stubborn you've made Heaven blink." Finally convinced that Sam and Dean will never say yes and accept their destinies, Heaven and Hell come up with a new plan, one that will redraw the Apocalypse and make everything run much more smoothly. All they need is Dean Winchester's soul.

Don’t mind the MCD tag, it’s got a happy ending. Also a classic set in canon, it’s from 2011 so quite oldish but it’s incredible how the characterization is on point. Love love love it.

Tramps Like Us

Dean Winchester's life is falling apart. He's lost his job, his apartment, and his brother, all in one day. He seems to break everything he touches. Frustrated and alone, he drives off into the night with no idea where he's headed. But then he meets Castiel Novak, a quiet and reclusive man with a haunted past, and suddenly he finds himself with a very specific destination in mind.

I feel like everyone has read Tramps Like Us but just in case, I’ll put it on the list. Not sure what I can say that hasn’t been said by half this website already but well… it deserves the hype.

Til The Last - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001935/chapters/1984189

When the war came, Dean Winchester was determined that he was not going to get involved. He had more important things to worry about than some rich man’s fight. He had work on the farm and he had taking care of his family. Nothing else was worth his worry. But in August in the Year of Our Lord 1863, when the soldiers came knocking, they weren’t asking. They dragged Dean away.

Dean and Cas have been best friends since they were kids. When Dean is drafted into the Confederate army, to what lengths will Castiel go to ensure that Dean makes it back home alive?

OH BOY. OHHHHH I could talk about that one until the day I die. It’s a complete AU but it has great parallels to canon, it’s incredibly well written, humanity in all it’s ugly truth and “I will fight for you ‘til the last, Dean Winchester” jesus christ it’s so good, so good

Out of the Deep - https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878

Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep.

It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep.

Castiel should have listened better.

I love everything she writes but I think this one if my favorite. It’s sooooo long, and angsty as fuck but all ends well and it has some very fluffy moments. If you’re into this kinf of AU then 100% go for it.

To Raise a King - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961403

This must be some kind of horrible joke at Castiel’s expense. Is he truly expected to protect a King? One who has been their enemy for as long as he can remember? He is much more suited to being a part of the army, or at the very least someone who helps to train the knights. That would be far more preferred than having to watch over the King. It means Castiel would get to keep fighting – and that’s the only way he knows to give meaning to his life.

An AU too, Cas is tasked to watch over Sam and Dean -there’s an 8 year age difference between Dean and Cas. I loved it because it’s set over about 15 years and Cas is asexual and I love time period AU in general :’)

Painted Angels https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085792

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing. Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

This one is hard to read because for the most part, it’s heartbreaking. There are happy flashbacks all along but it’s still hard when what happens in the present it’s a fucking tragedy. But I would still read it a thousand times over, and the timestamp completely make up for all the pining and the angst. It’s rare to find fics that last an entire lifetime.

#gaelle parle #spn #fic rec #martineaualexia

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reynesofcastamere · 4 years

Text

Splintered Perspective [β]

(A/N: For reference, any fics I write that aren’t related to my main series will be marked with [ β ] in the title. I may just have to make a masterpost to organize these at some point. Anyway,the prompt for this was: ‘How Rex or some other person from Ahsoka’s past would react to her being enemies with benefits or in a relationship with Maul.’ I decided to go with multiple POVs for the fun of it. And so I didn’t break myself with The Sad. Poor Rex T_T. Perspectives are not in chronological order. Mentions of past Ahsoka/Barriss. Warnings for dehumanization, mentions of torture, death, violence, some ableism and possible misogyny.(Maybe? Your mileage may vary.) Unbeta’d. ) Being one with the Force is...not exactly what she had been taught to expect. Barriss Offee is part of everything, all at once. Those in the Light, living and dead, she is all of them, and yet still herself, in a manner of speaking . Time is no longer such a rigid concept, nor is there any particular sense of urgency. What has happened was meant to be, and the future...Is forever shifting, ripples overlapping in a still pool. Which is why it comes as such a surprise when she can feel Master Plo’s disapproval like a storm on the edge of breaking. At first, she cannot determine what has woken his ire, but slowly the images come into focus. Ahsoka.

Barriss no longer possesses a heart, and yet she cannot deny the lance of bittersweet pain through her chest. There is relief that her friend is still alive, but also regret and something bordering on envy. A feeling that only sharpens when she notices the tattooed Zabrak that Ahsoka currently has pinned down. Wait. She knows him. Not personally, but...He is a Sith, a murderer, a monster. Why is Ahsoka-brash, kind, clever person that she is- smiling at him? It is possible that she is misinterpreting this. Both of them appear rather bruised and a touch bloody, and the lack of lightsabres doesn’t mean-She misses the words exchanged between the pair of them, but...The kiss is unmistakeably passionate, bordering on obscene as the Force crackles around them. Somehow, this is not the worst of it. When they part for air, there is a...look, shared between their eyes, and Barriss experiences true dread. Long ago, she and Ahsoka had-been close. Intimately so. As much as anyone could be, following the Order’s mandate that attachment was forbidden. She’d harboured dreams then, of maybe and one day...But no. Too much had happened, and her rosy illusions had been cruelly shattered. Somehow, watching this unfold hurts worse. Because there is something genuine beneath the crude physical attraction on display. Master Plo does not say a word, but his righteous indignation is so strong that it is a miracle he does not physically manifest in front of them.

Her dearest companion does not belong in the Dark, with this...creature trapping her in his coils, dripping venom into her thoughts. Barriss can only hope Ahsoka will extricate herself before it is too late.

=====

The failed apprentice. A wretched vermin who simply refuses to die. Not for much longer. Darth Vader’s gaze narrows as he reviews the incident reports. A decade of nothing but the occasional annoyance and whispers from the dregs of the galaxy, and only now does Maul scurry out from beneath whatever rock he has been sheltering under. Why? There is no grand plan, no great advantage in breaking into an Imperial prison. Especially one that contains such...unimportant occupants. Then again...The swathe of carnage and destruction left behind had been almost a direct path between the Dathomirian’s entry point and the interrogation chambers. Not a calculated assault, but an act of rage and desperation. Vader had felt it at the time, how the Dark Side had howled and torn at itself like a half-crazed beast. And then there was the fate of the interrogator: Hands cut off, abdominal perforation, shattered jaw,and eyes torn from their sockets. He had suffered a great deal, however briefly. As for the prisoner with him- Records list a female Togruta, mid-to-late twenties, with blue eyes and orange skin. Possibly Force sensitive, but difficult to determine due to her physical state upon capture. The prisoner hadn’t been in possession of anything resembling lightsabres, but had been carrying a wealth of assorted small armaments. It couldn’t be. She died back when...We found her sabres among the graves. Anakin Skywalker is long dead, but sometimes his ghost is loud enough to be heard over the multitudes that inhabit Vader’s hulking, monstrous shell.

Graves required someone to dig them first. Which meant that either some unknown individuals had come along and taken pity on a multitude of strangers...Or that the survivours had done the work themselves. Yet, if Ahsoka Tano lives, and was temporarily imprisoned, it still does not explain the identity or methods of her unlikely rescuer. She was sent to capture him on Mandalore, why would Snips-? Why did she leave us? We needed her when Padme- The room around him warps and buckles in a single, furious moment of clarity. She chose that...animal. That thing, Oh, but she’d been richly rewarded, hadn’t she? One only had to look at the risks her...protector had taken just to secure her freedom. Approval and utter disgust war within him as he rises. So be it. Sentiment has already destroyed them, and it will be his pleasure to finish a task that should have been resolved long ago. Traitors to the Empire must all be purged.

===== Rex should probably be angry. Ahsoka is certainly looking at him like a shiny expecting a stern lecture for breaking regs. Instead he just feels...tired. He can’t be mad at her, not really. Maybe if he’d stuck around longer or managed to make contact more often, this wouldn’t have happened. Or maybe it would have. Maker knows his trio of Jedi could never stay out of trouble for long, and that war makes for strange alliances and even stranger...pairings. Still, he has to ask, because he knows her, knows the depths of love and compassion that make her who she is, beneath the layers of soldier and spy.

“Is it serious?” Ahsoka fidgets with her lekku a bit. “I don’t know.” A long pause as she inhales. “It keeps happening, and...I want to murder him half the time, Rex. The problem is that he likes it.” The expression on her face perfectly sums up her opinion on that little tidbit of info. He might have laughed, under different circumstances. Instead, he takes her hands in his. “We’ve known each other for a long time. I might not understand why you’re doing this, or how it works-” He absolutely does not need to know the mechanics, as there are not enough drugs or alcohol in the galaxy to purge the associated mental images. “-but I trust your judgement. And your ability to slice his horns off and hang him from his ears over a pit of rathtars if he pushes you too far.” Rex grins, silently offering to be her backup should that ever happen. Kind of a surprise it hasn’t already, since Maul never karking shuts up and Ahsoka’s patience has a set limit for windbags. Her eyes are wet when she hugs him tightly. “You’ll be the first person I call, Captain. And I’m sorry.” He knows she’s not just apologizing for this, not with their history. “I’m sorry too, Commander.” Rex murmurs, hugging her back. They can stay like this for a while longer. Her superiors are just going to have to wait. He might not be such a ‘good’ soldier anymore, but he knows damned well how to be a good friend. And that’s what they both need, more than anything. People that will survive the disaster long enough to see it end, and come out smiling.

=====

“When I warned that you might be tempted by the Dark Side, I did not expect it to be quite so literal.”

“Master.” “Then again, I suppose there is a certain appeal. Ventress was certainly a...passionate opponent. Lovely sense of humour, too. I suppose you don’t get much of that with your-No, I suppose you are the better half in this equation.” “Master Kenobi.” “Come now, we haven’t spoken in ages, surely you can indulge your grand-master’s curiousity.” “You did not break comm silence after years of letting everyone think you were dead just to call me about my sex life.” “Well, no, but it is an unexpected bonus. How does that work, exactly?” “It sounds like you’re angling for a demonstration.” “Oh Maker, no. I’m not that eager to find out.” “Good, because I don’t particularly feel like dealing with him if he decides to drop everything just to hunt you down.” “Ah. He’s...still upset about that, is he?” “You have no idea.” “Well then. To business. And Ahsoka?” “Yes, Master?” “It is good to hear your voice again. Do take care of yourselves.” “You too, Master Kenobi. And don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

“One last question: When should I expect great-grand-padawans?”

“OBI-WAN!!!!” (A/N: Yes, I had to end with levity. Especially considering the characters involved. To clarify, Anakin isn’t upset because he has any sort of romantic inclination towards Ahsoka. It’s general Darksider possessiveness/jealousy mixed in with a lot of anger and some guilt. Looking after Ahsoka’s wellbeing was ‘his’ job, so far as he’s concerned. And now it’s apparently been usurped by That One Asshole. Also, if anyone’s going to recognize that level of...obsessive regard, it’s gonna be the OG Skywalker Drama King. Many thanks to the anonymous person who requested this, both for the prompt and your compliments. Cheers!)

#maulsoka #Plo Koon Greatly Disapproves of Maul's BS #sadly Bariss and the Seventh Sister are not the same person #that would have been tragically awesome though #Rex is The BestTM #Obi-Wan has to joke about this in order to avoid Trauma #And possibly a heart attack #Anakin is very salty but also missing the point

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faelune-home · 4 years

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FFXIV Write 2020 #12: Tooth and Nail

(A/N: There’s a part of me that’s not actually too happy with the presentation of this fic. I struggled with trying to phrase certain things or even just to move the scene along (The scene itself I’m fine with I’m quite happy with my topic. Though I’m amused at myself that another ‘simple idea’ got away from me and turned into feels lol). Maybe whenever I go to post this to Ao3 next month, I can edit it and fix it up with different eyes another day.

Speaking of feels, part of the problem during writing was I actually got weirdly emotional actually writing this. :’D But then as much as I say I am not my WoL, my feelings are very much the same as hers as a player, I have kinda projected that part of myself onto her in a way rip

Set during late Shadowbringers, storming Mt Gulg.

Word count: 1547

@ffxiv-writers)

The climb was intense, worsened by the assault of the sin eaters that managed to slip through the fae folks’ ranks. By the time the Scions had even made it to the top of the mountain - pearly pillars and lavish gardens awaiting them - they were already spent. Their own Warrior most of all.

“No-one here would judge you if you took the time to rest. We can push forward for you and let you save your strength for Vauthry,” Ryne suggested, wearing through her lip with worry. Despite her heavy panting, doubled over onto her knees, Fufu shook her head and gave the young girl a pained smile.

“I appreciate the thought, but it's fine. I can handle this,” she said, straightening up and giving Alphinaud a grateful nod, the boy having been tending to a nasty scratch on her arm.

“I would echo Ryne’s sentiments,” Y’shtola piped up, a heavy frown on her face. Even as the other miqo’te girl opened her mouth to protest, the scholar continued, “I am not trying to suggest you aren’t capable, we all here know that you could handle a fight like this at any other time. But I'm not going to pretend I’m not concerned about your current state. If you’re already struggling like this after four Lightwardens, what would taking in a fifth do to you?” Ears flattened against her head, Fufu could only grimace, unsure how to respond.

A loud hollar of “Incoming!” made the party start, ready to either dart for safety or jump into a fight; Thancred and Alisaie ran toward the waiting group, having chosen to scout ahead and deal with any lingering sin eaters in their upcoming path, yet now a horde followed them back to their companions. As the two ducked for cover, Y’shtola and Urianger swiftly took their places.

The throng of beasts were quickly lost in the blazing smoke and ash, most destroyed by the two Scions, and what few survived fled back into the mountaintop palace.

“Well, I’ll say that the way is mostly cleared now,” Thancred panted, collapsed against the wall, though he wore a crooked smile as though he’d just returned from a simpler errand. “What’d we miss?”

“Though not one to question her fortitude, it appears the weight of the Light within bears heavy on our friend’s shoulders,” Urianger responded, his expression blank as he averted his eyes.

“There’s no weight here,” Fufu grumbled, exasperation evident in her huff, “I can keep going.”

“Can you?” Fufu winced, casting a glance toward Alisaie, flinching again at the girl’s harsh expression. Despite the look in the miqo’te eyes seeming to say ‘Not you too’, the red mage brushed aside her brother’s fretting fingers and walked up to the Warrior of Darkness, saying, “You are an incredible fighter but this particular trek has shown your limits so far. Twelve above, we had to catch you when you nearly fell off near the start, and we’d barely fought anything then.”

“We were in the middle of fighting something then, weren’t we?” the woman pouted. Then with a sigh, she added, “I hear you all, and I know that you’re all worried. And I get the logic of asking me to save my strength for Vauthry. He’s not gonna be an easy fight and it's already hard enough with every sin eater under the skies hounding us here.

“But I have to keep going. I couldn’t bear the thought of everyone rushing in to clear a path for me without putting in some of the work myself. I’m gonna give this all of my strength and I’m gonna see this done.” Looking over all her gathered friends with a smile, she nodded.

“I want to see this done so the people of Norvrandt can finally know some peace. I know the sin eaters won’t disappear completely once he’s dead, even with however many we’ve had to deal with just getting up here, but without a leader I’d like to hope they’ll be easier to fight for the soldiers or hunters across the lands. But also…” She trailed off, a guilty look in her eye.

“What?” Ryne prompted. Fufu gulped, her lip quivering.

“It’s a bit of a selfish idea, even if it’s paired with something that needs to happen anyway,” she mumbled, looking to the ground. “I want to see this finished, and then we can work on a way to get everyone home.” Even as the stunned looks spread throughout the group, she continued, “I haven’t been here for years like everyone else. I haven’t had to adjust to the same degree as you all. But I can see the love and care you have for the people here.

“I wanted to help not just because it was the right thing to do, to prevent something if it was in my power, but also because I knew you would want to see people you’ve all grown to care for kept safe and assured a future. But now I want the same,” she finished, her voice quivering and a stray tear dribbling down her cheek. “Vauthry’s the end and I want to see this through every step.”

There was almost no immediate response, bar the tentative reassuring hands of the twins on the woman’s shoulders, as she frantically rubbed at her face and tried to fight back the rest of her tears.

“You’re right that it is a necessary act that we return home, given the state of our bodies here,” Y’shtola finally spoke up, voice even, “but to call it selfish that you desire our own safety seems cruel to yourself and your own feelings.”

She smiled, tinged with melancholy, “I appreciate your candidness however in acknowledging that we have integrated into groups and cultures that we have no doubt grown close to. Of course I have thought of home and my family many times these past few years, but I’d be a fool if I didn’t admit to wondering if there were ever a way to remain here. To stay with ones I would cherish with equal measure.”

“But you can’t, can you?” Ryne mumbled. Thancred gave her head a gentle pat, yet said nothing.

“Not as far as I have researched, unfortunately,” the seeker miqo’te admitted.

“Any such research done on the Source would be too late for our dearest companions, given the vast stretches of time that would pass here,” Urianger added, at some point in the conversation having put distance between himself and the group, staring out over Kholusia with his back to them. Ryne sniffed, and the Warrior of Darkness pulled her into a hug.

“If this is to be the way of things,” Alphinaud stated, a serious furrow to his brow, “then the least we can do for our friends here would be to leave them with the gift of the night and no more Lightwardens to harass them. As you said it, we would promise them the future.” Everyone nodded, the determined looks mirrored on all their faces.

Then a loud echoing filled the air, the Scions flinching at the force as the mountain under their feet quivered.

“HAVE THE VILLAINS CEASED THEIR ADVANCE? DO THEY NOW REALISE THE FUTILITY OF THEIR CAMPAIGN? HAVE I BEEN PROVEN RIGHTEOUS?!”

Thancred stumbled to his feet, weapon in hand as he grunted, “I think I speak for all here when I say that I’d very much like to finally shut him up. Let’s get on with this then.”

Everyone got to their feet, ready to move on finally, but not before they paused and looked to their ailing friend, concern still evident in the air.Thancred turned to her and said, “I shall be leading the van as always, but it's your own decision if you're up front with me or if you decide to hang back until the way is clear. No one here will force you one way or another.”

“I appreciate it,” Fufu said, “but I’ll be going.” The man shrugged, looking neither bothered nor encouraged by her response. As he shifted to the front of the group with Y’shtola and Urianger, and Ryne trailing behind, Alisaie marched over to Fufu, her arms folded stiffly and her lips pressed thin, and stated, “I want it said now that the first sign of you struggling or wavering, you will stop and rest. There’ll be no question about it.”

Fufu spied the way the elezen girl’s hands gripped at her elbows, the knuckles white with the pressure, and the watery sheen in her blue eyes. Giving her a reassuring smile, Fufu ruffled the girl’s hair and said, “I can agree to that. If it puts your mind at ease.”

“It’s got nothing to do with that,” Alisaie huffed, head ducked down before racing ahead with a quickness. Stifling a chuckle at the girl’s obvious concern, Fufu gave herself a shake, ignoring the uneasy ache buried deep in her gut, dismissing it as the light within her. This was the final trial. After this, the Exarch could get them all home. Even if he didn’t know how, he’d have the time to find out with no more sin eaters to threaten the people. She could do it.

They could do it, with all their strength together.

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #scions of the seventh dawn #mt gulg #shadowbringers #my writing #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #keeper of the moon miqo'te #my wol #fufu faelune #y'shtola rhul #urianger augurelt #ryne #thancred waters #alisaie leveilleur #alphinaud leveilleur

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