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#I’m very excited to play him again but I’ve mostly forgotten what his character was like
canarydraws · 2 years
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May 2022 - - - > June 2021
Starting a new campaign with an old dnd character and thought it was the perfect opportunity for a redraw! I feel like I can definitely see improvement which makes me happy ☺️
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egregiousderp · 2 years
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4 12 16 27! 😘
4) Are there any writers that inspire you?
Kel, I know you probably want a shout-out of accessible big fandom names or to maybe hear your own here, but I also think you’ve fundamentally forgotten I majored in English. XDDDDDDD
There’s Pratchett and Palahniuk by the crate in my car for easy access, and LeGuin by my bed. And I think Garth Nix builds things that you can picture in cinematic detail and reconstructs from the brick up, and honestly I’d be hard pressed to find a modern writer that I think does a better job of that.
I own literal boxes full of short stories and novels I wanted to teach from to give people ideas about what’s possible with imagery, characterization, pacing, and detailing out parts of it…still hurt.
I used to have a stack of things to reread every summer, and those things are packed up in a box so I don’t have to try to process the grief. (I’m probably…going to try to go through parts of those boxes across my vacation in two weeks. I’ve been trying to go through some of those boxes for ten years.!
My background’s mostly classic sci fi and pulps. Both of which usually have safely dead or inaccessible authors. And the styles of those are greatly at odds with what you can produce in a fan setting. (You can pull An Occurrence At Owl Creek Bridge every time for forty thousand words if you like, and people will eat it up if it’s to their taste.)
Editors exist not just to catch your grammar mistakes but to market your work and make your work marketable. Market style changes. The definition of what makes a novel has changed even in just a handful of centuries.
I don’t write half as well as the things I admire. And the people I do admire in fandom usually know I admire them already.
You don’t have to curtail love letters for brevity, and the best fan works exist as love letters. Maybe not to the creator of the work, but to the others around us who make our ideas and happiness possible.
But I think the ones that probably don’t know they inspire me greatly are “my kids” starting out, just beginning to grapple with the enormous excitement of their ideas.
When that’s allowed to express itself freely, I think it’s the best thing in the world.
A lot of my work isn’t designed with accessibility for children (and for good reasons) but… seeing them writing freely (two of them in a language I can barely recognize words of, and one at something they’re alarmed by wanting to write) is really the biggest reason I wanted to make or engage with anything.
So I appreciate anything that lets me get glimpses of that without having to engage with the enormity of my grief at the loss of a constant source of that.
Fandom’s usually a good place for that.
12) Tell us about any WIPs you’re excited about?
Again, I know what you’re reaching for. XD
If I can get the Thanksgiving fic going, then great. If I can get Hole Time up in time to play a spectacular fandom joke, then great.
But really, I just would be very happy with myself if I could get chapter five (“I’m a vegetarian”) up for my Soulmates AU.
Thanksgiving/“TWO POTAT” is just me having to write another awkward dinner party after having struggled to finish a first awkward dinner party. Everyone seems excited about how in love the characters are when I send them roughs.
Descriptions of upcoming chapter for souls:
“So this retired living weapon is in a kitchen with his boyfriend’s anxious son, who’s maybe just begun to realize his dad’s dating said living weapon/the ex-president of a foreign country he has a trading card of. Said weird living weapon is trying to bond with him by offering him whitebait to eat. It’s not working.
Politics of a clan are hinted at through body piercing.
Naruto and Gaara have a crotchety old man bromance.
Gaara clapbacks a twenty-year-old and receives a pot.
Rock Lee keeps repotting every weed Gaara digs up in his garden, and Gaara is exasperatedly in love with him for it but also What About The Water Waste Lee.
Suna’s former Kazekage is coaxed into taking a nice bath.”
16) Guilty Pleasure tropes?
Yeah. So. I’m not burdened with an excess of guilt about what I like. I worry about offending people or triggering people and that’s about it. I mostly just struggle with how to tag safely.
I feel like maybe fewer people know I like Shibari, but as above, I just really like the idea of any kind of hand-tailored custom craft that may or may not take an element of trust. So I like it about the same amount as I’d probably like. I dunno, people sharing a hotpot together, or making bread, or pottery, or…you know. Whatever.
(“Any sort of attentive in-depth learning about something precious to a given person.”
“You have a bespoke kink.”
“I guess. Something like that. But general.”)
27) The nicest comment you ever received?
“Nicest” is hard. A lot of people write very nice comments.
@requirings recently went through my fics one by one and left comments. I get so few comments I think it took me a month to even realize what they’d done and it just made me so Warm inside because it was such a sweet and genuine gesture, and it’s one I can barely repay because of my crippling fear of. Being seen. Having my stuff be up there permanently and being kept like some kind of receipt for a future witch-hunt.
(Not because I’ve done anything like. Inherently or specifically wrong. But because I know very well that you don’t have to do anything “wrong” it can just be enough to be different and it’ll be someone else’s “wrong” if they can manufacture power out of it.)
I made friends with @marquiseoniongirl at all when she was an anonymous commenter on my personal livejournal, commenting sweetly on my crackfic. To call that “nice” is an understatement because I probably owe being able to be alive at all to her and maybe a handful of other friends I made for the first time in my life.
I can write anything remotely spicy at all because of the breakthrough that was @skinks showing up in my inbox talking about how HOT they found what I’d written, after months and months of grappling to try to make a different fic sound consensual—not because the material wasn’t consenting, but because my default state when dealing with…something other people find quite normal is disgust at worst and indifference-to-methodical-scientific-interest at best.
That my default state when writing spice at all has been a massive struggle, and even when I try to be up front about that, I’m not sure many people know it know it. Because I spent literal years learning how to mask it and retexture it so it comes off “right”.
Sometimes you get a comment that isn’t even intended to be particularly “nice” or worldshaking but it makes you want to cry, because it means something worked.
So.
Once I wrote a spiritassassin fic that someone found Hot.
And they told me as much.
And I owe all my future works that had that kind of content probably to them.
Because that was a breakthrough. A massive breakthrough.
I owe full creations of works to offhand comments made by people. I owe happiness, and strength to get through some of my days to people’s offhand comments.
But I also don’t get to decide which comments, or if they’re people I get to have lasting lingering talk everyday friendships with or not.
Sometimes I don’t get to repay the enormity of what’s given.
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thesolferino · 3 years
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⤷ note: apologies for losing your request, anon, but thank you for requesting! this is my first time writing a full fic in second person, so bear with me, and i hope this is what you were looking for <3
The Great American Bake Off
pairing: corpse husband x gn!reader
word count: 3.6k
genre: fluff
summary: you’ve been jealous of rae and her closeness with your boyfriend since the dawn of time, but things change and friendships are made once she comes over for one hell of a cooking video.
Corpse, among many other things, was a man many wished to have.
It’s the truth; even if he didn’t have a YouTube channel through which millions kept up with everything from horror stories to Among Us gameplays, people would still turn heads and whisper whenever he spoke - that attention more than multiplied when he started blowing up and his social media presence grew.
With growth come numbers, and there are always people behind said numbers. Through them, Corpse makes wonderful friends - through them, you had met him, too. All the way back, during his horror narration days, you had grown to like him - really, who wouldn’t?
A DM you once sent after a few drinks, when you claimed to your friends you’d get the “deep-voiced man of your dreams” you often talked about and they, in turn, challenged you to message him, was nothing short of a joke and the idea of him responding was merely a pipe dream. What you hadn’t expected, however, was a response, which wrecked your brain at noon the next day, where your head throbbed with embarrassment, guilt, pride, happiness, a melt of hatred and gratefulness for your friends, panic and the remains of alcohol that tugged at every part of your skull.
It had turned out to be more than a great idea, though, because for the next few weeks you were constantly talking. You learned so much more than he let on in videos, and during late night calls you found out everything from his favorite clothing brand to his favorite color to his thoughts about his own mortality and then back to his favorite cereal. Audio calls and short voice messages turned into hours long FaceTimes that led you from friends to something more. And after a year or so of dating, you packed your bags and made it to sunny San Diego, ready to lay in his arms and sweat bullets.
Safe to say Corpse’s social media presence had its good sides. However, with all good things come bad things too, and you weren’t sure if the bad things were bad at all or you were simply too jealous.
Corpse made wonderful friends thanks to his YouTube channel. He met people he could confide in, meet, people he could talk to about his worst problems, people who would listen - he met people he could have fun with, with who he could forget all about the real world and his own issues, and simply laugh his heart away, play games until the late hours of the night.
If he had to name his closest ones, they would have to be Dave, Loey, maybe Mykie, possibly Jack, and Rae. And that is exactly where the root of the problem stood.
Rae is beautiful, and everyone who denies it must be either dumb or blind. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and funny, and kind, and smart, in a way that made you want to rip your hair out. You wanted to hate her so bad, because the jealousy ate away at you like a damn disease, but you couldn’t, because she was perfect Rae, and as much as you hated the fact she seemed to be perfect inside out, you just couldn’t hate her as her. It was impossible, you concluded.
You convinced yourself you weren’t jealous every time you heard him yelling or laughing at her from his office room - or at least you attempted to do so. Your lunch would turn sour and end up forgotten because you’d be way too focused on listening in on what he was doing and trying to make out what she was saying to even eat at the same pace you previously were. Jealousy ate away at you, no matter if you admitted it to yourself or not.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Corpse, of course. On one late night when you couldn’t sleep and neither could he, as per usual, you turned on a random comedy that you half-heartedly paid attention to, his fingers combing through the knots in your hair peacefully and the slow pace of the movie lulling you to sleep slowly. That is, before his phone rang and lit the mostly dark room. You managed to sneak a glance at the notification before he had, and the familiar bitterness seeped between your ribs as always upon seeing the name displayed at the top of the message, more than awake now.
You visibly stiffened when he laughed at the message and typed something back, shifting your head in his lap as some subconscious attempt at getting him to pay attention to you instead. He put his phone down and you huffed, eyes locked on the TV screen as you pretended to be extremely absorbed in the movie even though you weren’t quite sure of the difference between the protagonist and antagonist anymore. His hands didn’t return to your hair, and that somehow made you even more annoyed.
“What’s up?” Corpse quietly spoke up, barely over the volume over the already quiet movie.
“Nothing.” You said, quicker than you wanted to, and you bit your tongue in cringe when you realised it was an awful lie. Corpse seemed to think the same.
“That’s bullshit. Seriously, what’s wrong?” He asked, and was met with pure silence. In reality, you were hoping he’d simply never realise you were somewhat jealous, because you knew you were being stupid and unreasonable, but you couldn’t help wanting him all to yourself. Admitting it out loud made it so much more real, and so much more embarrassing that you would rather bury yourself alive than admit to being jealous of Rae, of all people.
After a few seconds of silence, save the laughter of characters on screen, he spoke again.
“Are you jealous?” The hint of a teasing tone in his voice made you want to rip your hair out of your skull. Was it really that damn hard to believe that yes, you were jealous of an extremely close friend of his? Was it a crime?
The clenching of your jaw seemed to give Corpse enough of a response, and his hands returned to running themselves through your hair as he giggled to himself. 
“What’s so damn funny?” You borderline spat, causing his movements to halt for a second before continuing with even louder laughter.
“I don’t know, just the idea of you being jealous of Rae is so funny. I’ve noticed the way you roll your eyes whenever I text her in front of you. You’re not exactly sneaky, you know?” His words made blood rush straight to your face, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. How long has he known this for?
“Sorry. I don’t…” you exhaled and attempted to smile. “I don’t know what’s up with me. I’m so jealous nowadays. I don’t even know why.”
“There’s enough of me to share with everyone, no worries baby.” he replied, teasing tone still yet to dissipate as you slap his knee in mock offense and he starts wheezing.
“Absolutely not! Fucking excuse you, I’m not sharing with anyone!” you gaped at him as he kept laughing.
That was the end of it - or at least Corpse thought so. Needless to say, he was wrong.
Your mood would instantly turn sour whenever he’d laugh at one of her messages, and you attempted to push down every eye roll whenever he’d sit on his phone, between your legs, back turned to you so you could see everything, and open Rae’s DMs again. Sometimes you managed, sometimes you couldn’t help it, but you did your best to do it whenever he wasn’t looking. Because you truly knew you were being unreasonable, especially whenever you have to relay situations like how he had to postpone a date one time because Rae asked him to play Rust for a bit longer and you almost ripped all your hair out of your skull in frustration back to your best friend who just turned Rae and Corpse into the villains in the situation because that’s what best friends are supposed to do.
Not like he was going out of his way to talk to her a concerning amount, they mostly talked in groupchats and on streams and that was only a few times weekly, but it did absolutely nothing to calm the green monster growing stronger in you every day, fed by every laugh she got out of him.
The green monster fucking loved it when Corpse excitedly announced to you that he’s finally meeting his friends for the first time, and by friends meaning Rae, Sykkuno and Karl. You, however… were far from impressed.
He paced around the room in excitement, a mix of obvious anxiety and joy evident on his face, and he fiddled with the strings of his hoodie with shaky hands as he very proudly announced that he would be the second tallest person in the room through a blinding, pearly grin, and seeing him so electrified couldn’t help but make you shut your jealous thoughts up, even if just for a little bit, and mirror his grin back to him.
What did, however, make you as anxious as him was when he announced they’d a) be coming to your shared apartment and b) making a cooking video - it sent you into a panicked mom mode as you dusted every corner of every room and vacuumed everything from the kitchen to the balcony and Corpse did nothing but record you as you anxiously rambled and laugh at you from his place on your bed.
When the dreaded Saturday finally came, and the first person to arrive, Sykkuno, rang your doorbell, you squeezed Corpse’s hand to stop him from nervously toying with his rings and opened the door, and you greeted the man like he was your own brother and not a person you’d seen probably a total of three times through the computer screen and someone who’s seen you maybe two times, from the pictures Corpse sent him, in your best attempt to make both of them more comfortable. It actually kind of worked - turns out Sykkuno is a pretty affectionate guy, too, and a conversation started as soon as he stepped in. Corpse gave you a look when you pulled away from Sykkuno’s half-hug, and you almost laughed out loud at the irony when his phone lit up with a notification from Rae announcing she was almost there at that exact moment.
She had kept true to her word; ten minutes or so later, another ring was heard and you gestured to Corpse to open it this time as you gave Sykkuno his cup of water and resisted any and every urge to roll your eyes or do something otherwise bitchy and stupid. Corpse did as told, and you watched them hug and listened to Rae squeal in excitement through the open door of the living room and decided to plaster a smile on your face for as long as you could muster before you remove yourself from the situation when they start filming.
Unfortunately for you, the first person she locked eyes with was exactly you, and they lit up an even prettier brown (if that was even possible) as she beelined to you and you barely got a greeting out before she engulfed you in a large hug, arms wrapping around your neck as she swayed both of you side to side.
“Oh my God, you must be Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Rae cheered into your ear before she finally pulled back, before shooting an infectious grin at you that you couldn’t help but return back.
“All good things, I hope.” you chuckled as she moved to greeting Sykkuno, and nodded her head with an enthusiastic giggle of her own. You eyed Corpse for a second who simply leaned against the door frame, watching the whole thing unfold with somewhat of a proud smile on his face, before Rae turned back to you and your attention was on her again.
“Of course! Corpse is very much a simp for you, you know that?” She said and both you and Corpse laughed, especially him, who nodded his head in agreement as she sat back down, still beaming at you.
“Well, I’m happy to hear that.” you respond before turning back to Corpse. “Where’s Karl at?”
“He’ll be here in half an hour or so, he only landed recently.” he said. You nodded and moved to sit on a nearby chair to leave space for the guests on the couch.
Karl ended up arriving in twenty minutes and apprised everyone of the information that “his taxi driver is a psycho that, apparently, doesn’t fear stop signs or the police” before setting up the camera in your kitchen and tried his best to attach lapel mics on everybody (admittedly, it took way longer than it should’ve, but he eventually managed and that counted as a win in his book). You reluctantly agreed to be the judge of the finished product when they’re done cooking, and Karl was there for the purposes of being a cameraman and making jokes off screen so he agreed too, albeit way more enthusiastically than you.
The two of you sat behind the camera as the three of them lined up, Corpse wearing a mask and his signature eyepatch (that he didn’t really need, but those two did their job in preserving his privacy) and introduced what they were doing. Corpse was obviously very anxious, hands fidgeting constantly and shivering like a dog after a bath despite the hoodie he was wearing in 100 degree weather because of the shower of sweat that was now drying on his body, and that was partly why you were there, supportive smiles, encouraging cheers and all.
They were making Mexican ground beef tacos, and despite knowing Corpse can barely make a sandwich without setting at least two dishes on fire, you still cheered him on proudly and repeated he was part Mexican himself roughly 5 times a minute, claiming he was going to kill it.
“Kill it? More like kill one of us- CORPSE watch what you’re doing with that fucking knife! You’re proving my point!” Rae yelled at him as he giggled in delight, watching the woman gape at him in pure horror and Sykkuno watch his movements completely entranced as he played with the knife in his hands.
“You’re just mad that he’s going to make tacos fifty times better than you.” you said to Rae, chewing down on some M&Ms that Karl and you shared (both of you decided on a genius plan - you’re going to eat the whole bag before they’re done with cooking so you can claim you’re full and therefore can’t eat the atrocity that will most likely be the tacos).
“Don’t gas me up like that, Y/N, you are well aware I’m shit at cooking. Expect absolutely nothing from me.” he replied over the sizzling of the meat on the pan, throwing a whole spoonful of chili powder into it, earning loud yelling and scolding from your side and loud laughter from Rae.
“HALF A TEASPOON! Half a teaspoon, how have you not remembered this already?! We’ve made tacos a million times now, oh my God, you’re actually stupid.” you yelled at him, arms flailing in the direction of the seasoning to emphasise your ‘half a teaspoon’ point as Rae doubled over in laughter and Sykkuno looked into the pan with a concerned and somewhat afraid look. Just as he peeked in, the overwhelming smell of chili powder started biting away at his eyes, and he jumped away with a yelp.
“Jesus, Corpse!” he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes with his forearm as the whole room burst into laughter and Corpse suspiciously inspected his beef.
“What were you saying about your ‘Mexican king’, Y/N?” Rae asked, pulling out a few tortillas and putting them on the table. You huffed, grabbing another handful of M&Ms.
“Giving him up to God. He’s the only one who can help, at this point.” you said. She giggled in response and Corpse let out some sort of protesting sound and waved his knife around in complaint. “I don’t know who this man is. He broke into my kitchen and now I’m here.”
“Hey, I pay half of your rent!” he said, and you were about to reply but Rae dropped her meat into a pan full of overheated oil, and a loud hiss and some sort of a scream overtook the room as a cloud of steam shot into the air and she frantically looked around for the wooden spoon so the meat wouldn’t stick to the pan. You simply sat and laughed, eating the candy like it was popcorn and you were watching a shitty cooking show - it wasn’t that far from reality, really.
“Um, I just realised I don’t make many tacos, actually.” she said as she helplessly stirred the meat, turning to you with pleading eyes. “What seasoning even goes into this? Y/N, will you help me? Let’s team up against Corpse!”
You tilted your head in thought, but before you could even speak, Corpse spoke up.
“That’s not fucking fair, that’s-that’s against the rules.” he turned to you. “You won’t betray me, right?”
You laughed at him, adjusting in your seat. “I gave up on you ever since you added, like, 3 kilos of seasoning into the meat for no reason.” then you turned to Rae. “Sure, let’s do it, babe.”
Their loud yelling immediately started mixing, Rae’s cheers contrasting Corpse’s protesting. She stuck her tongue out at him meanwhile Corpse shot her the middle finger, and she turned back to you with a grin.
“Alright, what do I put in?”
Roughly twenty unnecessary and extremely long minutes later, the tacos were done, two each for each of them. Rae’s looked the best - probably because you guided her through the whole thing - next to Sykkuno’s, whose you were genuinely intrigued to try. While Corpse was arguing with Rae, he burned roughly half of his already ruined beef, and Karl made the very nice observation that it looked like a bird shat in a tortilla, which you proclaimed as the highlight of the video.
Since you and Karl claimed you were full, the three of them simply swapped tacos between each other as to be unbiased, and the two of you watched in amused suspense. You were actually quite interested to see what the end results were - you were first anxious and quite annoyed you even had to participate in the first place, because it meant losing your mind from jealousy, watching Corpse and Rae giggle and act all domestic while cooking, but jealousy simply dissipated somewhere half through the video as you watched the three argue if cheddar cheese belonged on tacos or not and Rae laugh at every stupid joke you cracked. Now, you sat, fully immersed as you stared at Sykkuno’s face; the poor guy ended up with the misfortune of having to try Corpse’s taco first.
“Zoom in, zoom in!” you whispered into Karl’s ear who complied and zoomed into Sykkuno’s face. He bit into the taco, chewing for a second before his face twisted in disgust and you began wheezing when he grabbed a tissue and spit it out, immediately grabbing his glass of water. Rae laughed at him as well, mouth full of his one, which she claimed she actually liked but it wasn’t as good as the “Y/NRae-co” as she proudly called it. Corpse silently ate Rae’s taco and refused to give a review on it because he was upset he got defeated, but the fact that he scarfed down the whole thing in a minute or so was enough of a review.
���Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.” Corpse exclaimed when he saw Sykkuno’s bite in the tissue, grabbing the second taco he made and biting down on it. The whole room burst into laughter when he roughly swallowed, tears obvious in the one eye that showed, because of the overly spicy beef.
“What are you motherfuckers laughing at? It’s not that bad, I stand by tacorpse.”
“Tacorpse is actually genius. The one good thing you came up with during the entirety of this video.” Rae said and Corpse mumbled a fuck you in response.
“Well, I think we can all agree that me and Y/N’s taco was clearly the best.” she said, clasping her hands together.
“I actually think mine was better.” Sykkuno said, to which she pushed his plate out of the frame.
“Nobody asked you anything.”
“Don’t bully Sykkuno, I’ll fucking kick you out.”
“Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure Y/N would kick you out before they’d let you kick me!” Rae said, accusingly pointing her taco in Corpse’s direction.
“Alright, let’s wrap up the video.” Karl laughed behind the camera, and the three of them all turned to properly face it and end the video.
“Thank you all so much for watching, this has been an… interesting video, to say the least. Uh, thank you to Karl for filming this whole disaster, thank you to Corpse,” Rae gestured in his direction, “for lending us his kitchen, thank you to Sykkuno for probably getting us more views on this video, and also a big thank you to Y/N, Corpse’s better half for making this video way more interesting and helping me make probably, like, the best taco I’ve ever made.” she grinned and you shoved a peace sign in front of the camera.
“If you liked this video, check out Sykkuno and Corpse’s channels, they will be linked down below, and please click like and subscribe to support the channel! Again, thank you all for watching, see you later, bye!” she finished, and with that, Karl turned the camera off.
Silence engulfed the room. You sighed.
“Alright, who’s gonna clean this shit up?”
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aminiatureworld · 3 years
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Shadowed Rationale
Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader
Word Count: 3,597
Warnings: Swearing
Premise: Some things aren’t terribly rational. And some responses are even less so. But what other option is there? Revealing yourself can be a terribly embarrassing thing, isn’t it better to hide it?
In which the reader is afraid of the dark.
Author’s Note: I’ve decided to write based off my own prompt every two weeks. Mostly because I realized I can no longer think of ideas, and also cause I’m a bit writer’s blocked and I’d feel bad writing requests right now. This premise is pretty cheesy, but sometimes simple starting points are the best to build upon! Besides it was a really a chance to work on my atmosphere, sometimes putting an image in your mind on paper is quite difficult, especially when it comes with an unsettling sort of mood.
All the characters I chose are characters I saw at least some point in the 1.4 teaser stream (Kaeya, Xiao, and Zhongli are tomorrow). I’m so excited! Although I have to apologize to Venti, sorry I have no idea how to write you so I chose not to.
I realize I idealize some of these characters (ie: Childe) quite a bit. I hope that they still keep their individuality, that they still stay in character. That being said I’m quite happy with how this turned out to be, so I hope you like it.
Albedo
It’s not that you didn’t trust Albedo. Indeed Albedo sometimes felt like the only person in the world you could trust.
It was simply that, though you two had been in a relationship for the past four months or so, you still wanted to impress him in some way. Or at least not seem like a total idiot. And to you the most idiotic thing you could think of was your fear of the dark.
It wasn’t that it was a totally irrational fear, of course humans were afraid of the dark, how else could they have survived this long? It was more that the fear felt irrational now. And besides, you had a vision. Your partner had a vision. You two were more than equipped for anything that might be lurking in the shadows. Besides it’s not as if your fear had a tangible image in your mind. It was more like a cloud, a miasma, which filled you with anxiety.
You knew you should tell him, knew he’d be nothing less than a perfect gentleman about the matter. But your pride was too great, or perhaps it was your embarrassment. Either you said nothing. And here you were now, in Wolvendom, in the middle of the night, desperately trying not to jump at every shadow you passed.
Albedo wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to your nervous disposition; once he’d found something to experiment with he developed the slightly unhelpful habit of blocking the rest of the world out completely. Not that that was terrible for you in current circumstances. Maybe you’d make it out of here with your dignity intact.
That optimism however was drowned out by the oppressive anxiety you felt. Though Albedo had assured you that his connections had managed to get Razor’s promise that no wolves would bother the two of you it was still difficult to contain the shiver up your spine every time you heard their distant howling. The landscape didn’t help, comprised of sharp drops and trees which seemed as if they’d never been alive in the first place. The long cavern in which you two walked seemed too vulnerable, too low to the ground with no way to protect yourself either from behind or above. The valleys were crawling with hilichurls, and you’d occasionally see the silhouette of a wolf or two. You could make out the old Monstadt as well, if you gazed westward, and the solitary, crumbling turret cut an eerie figure against the inky sky.
As Albedo studied the lamp grass that was the reason for your expedition – as he’d developed a curiosity in regards to their luminescence, how it was created and how it might be extracted and experimented upon – you looked around you. Though there was nothing in sight to be afraid of you still found yourself going to draw your weapon, though you were loath to actually do so, not wanting to look silly. After all, only a fool would attack the dark.
Luck, however, wasn’t on your side. You seemed to be spotting a figure, appearing at the other side of the valley in which you’d found yourselves in, walking straight towards you. You blinked rapidly, brain desperately trying to choose between whether or not it was a figment of your imagination. Surely it must be? What sort of cloaked figure would be wandering around in the dark? And yet the other half of your mind whispered that it must be something, something or someone, and that something or someone was fast approaching you. Was it? Or were you just imagining it? You truly couldn’t decide. Another howl echoed on the wind. Your senses were becoming too overwhelmed, too confused. Oh why were you there? Why oh why oh why?
You backed up slightly, brain now determined to see the shadow on the horizon as a human. Your hand clutched your weapon and you tried to remember if there was something, anything behind you. A ridge perhaps, so you might not have to worry about what was behind you, might be able in some ways to ground yourself.
Unfortunately luck wasn’t on your side, and instead of finding some point of security you found yourself tripping over your partner.
“Shit.” Albedo let out a curse as you fell backwards, hitting the ground with a loud thud. “My love are you alright?”
You said nothing, instead glancing back towards the other end of the valley. The figure seemed much skinnier from the ground, and for a moment you felt your brain cloud over in confusion. Then, as if all of a sudden your mind had put the pieces together, you felt a rush of relief, swiftly followed by embarrassment. A trunk. It was a tree trunk. Covering your face with your hands you groaned.
“Beloved?” Albedo asked once again. You looked up at him, a feeling of sheepishness and fondness washing over you as you saw the worried expression on his face.
“It’s nothing Albedo, I’m perfectly fine. It’s just… ah,” you let out a sigh, steeling yourself for the interaction you’d specifically hoped wouldn’t happen, “I’m, I’m afraid of the dark. My eyes were playing tricks on me just now, I thought I saw someone walking towards us. But it was just a tree.” You let out an embarrassed sort of sound, once more burying your face in your hands. Damn it. Now what were you going to do?
The feeling of fabric around your shoulders was a surprising one, and you quickly looked up. Albedo was crouching down beside you, having wrapped his coat around you. There was no sense of shame or embarrassment in his eyes, only love and a sense of caring.
“You should’ve told me.” He said, voice soft and warm. “I’m sorry I brought you along when it makes you so uncomfortable.”
“I’m sorry I’m being such a pain,” you replied, “it’s such a stupid fear of mine. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I felt like, like you’d think I was being irrational. Like I was being silly.”
“There’s nothing irrational about being afraid of the dark my love. It can be frightening after all, not being able to use all your senses to their full capacity. And even if it were an irrational fear, I wouldn’t look down on you for it. Alchemists, those who study the world, they cannot expect to always interact with what is perfect, what is always rational or what always makes sense. Neither are they infallible themselves. Besides,” he continued, brushing your hair out of your face, “I’d rather you be cautious over nothing than see you hurt.”
You found yourself unable to say anything, overcome by his words. It wasn’t that he’d said anything you hadn’t told yourself, you knew after all that being afraid of the dark wasn’t without a purpose, that it wasn’t utterly irrational in itself. But it felt different when Albedo said it. When you said it there was always your anxiety to counter it, when Albedo said it you accepted it as true. For it was Albedo who said it, and he’d never lie to you.
“Thank you.” You mumbled, hugging the coat closer around you, happy to be enveloped in something so familiar and comforting.
“Of course,” Albedo smiled, kissing you on your forehead, “I love you. So very dearly.”
The rest of the night you kept his coat wrapped around you. Although Albedo had quickly reverted to his informative sort of state he hadn’t forgotten what had passed, and every once in a while he’d give you a quick hug, or squeeze your hand in reassurance.
Overall it wasn’t such a terrible night.
  Childe
There was no hiding your fears from Childe.
The man was the nosiest – or perhaps most observant – person you’d ever met, and he’d quickly put two and two together as soon as you’d started living together.
Unfortunately for you Childe also had the kind of work schedule that would make a surgeon’s job feel envious. And a part of that schedule entailed you staying up at all hours of the night, trying desperately not to jump at every sound.
You knew that it was going to be one of those nights, and as of such you’d decided to take a nap in the afternoon, so the lack of sleep wouldn’t weigh on you too much. The afternoon sun had been strong, and though you’d decided not to close the curtains you also didn’t bother to keep any of the lights on. After all it wasn’t supposed to be more than an hour long nap or so, and keeping the lights on felt like a bit of waste.
Your regret came the moment you opened your eyes to the pitch black of your room.
How did something change so drastically from daytime to nighttime? All the familiar figures around you seemed to have disappeared, or perhaps it was more accurate to say they’d been transformed. Now even your closet door seemed to have taken on a life of its own, wriggling within its frame as if possessed. The unobstructed window cut harsh lines along your floor, but it was a cloudy sort of night, and every once in a while even the moon would be snuffed out, sending your heart rate skyrocketing once more.
You were utterly and totally paralyzed. At first you’d drawn the covers over your head, hoping to block it all out, but it was a warm evening and quickly you found yourself throwing your blankets off, needing some unobstructed air, met once more with the terror of the dark.
Childe, you wished Childe were here. He always knew how to chase away the dark, how to make the books and the lamps and the dressers go back to their usual selves. His teasing annoyed you sometimes, but now you longed for the distraction. If only he weren’t so late. If only you’d paid better attention to the time, if only.
Your eyes darted around your room, as if seeking out something you knew wasn’t there. You knew that whatever you saw was an illusion, the result of your brain trying to piece something together, something to keep it from getting bored. You knew perfectly well that it was an explainable phenomenon. And yet fear is so very difficult to fight, so though you continued scolding yourself for your nonsensical actions, you also continued to look around, sure that you’d find something if only you paid enough attention.
Time had frozen along with you, and you were so preoccupied with your fear that the door opening came as a terrible shock. You jumped, adrenaline racing through your veins, but the muffled “I’m home” was what you’d been waiting for. You just needed to go greet him. The moment you got out of your room and to the light of the kitchen it’d be alright. But you were still frozen, and though your mind screamed at your limbs to move you found there was no escaping the sort of spell that had been cast by your fear.
The sliver of light from the hallway finally began to eat away at your trance. The door opening to reveal Childe was what completely broke it.
“Darling, what’s wrong?” Childe asked, a look of concerned plastered on his face. You let out a strangled sort of cry as an answer, fumbling off the bed before catapulting straight into his arms, burying your face in his chest. Childe immediately reciprocated the hug, stroking your hair in a soft, soothing motion. It hadn’t taken much to put the pieces together. What else after all could it be.
“It was the dark, wasn’t it?” He asked, whispering a faint “ah” in response to you nodding your head. “It’s okay my darling, I’m here. You don’t have to be afraid anymore, alright? It’s okay, it’s alright. It must’ve been very frightening to be alone.” His voice was almost melodic, the sotto tone slowly coaxing you back to yourself.
How confused would people be, you thought to yourself, how confused they’d be if they realized how kind Childe truly is. But you were grateful for that kindness. Right now it was what you needed. There’d be teasing tomorrow, teasing and bantering, and everything that was the usual Childe. But right now there was only comfort and softness, and you thanked Childe and the archons for it.
The rest of the night was a sedate one. You were both tired, Childe from his work, you from not only yours but the terrible fright you’d had. The two of you had eaten a late dinner, chairs pulled up next to each other, hands intertwining intermittently. There wasn’t much talking, instead you two enjoyed being in each other’s presence; the familiarity and comfort it brought.
Though the night was still warm you found yourself cuddling, arms wrapped around one another, legs tangled together. The beating of Childe’s heart steadied you, his breathing reminded you that he was there, that you were safe now. You didn’t have to fear the demons that your mind imagined. He’d scare them away for you.
It was difficult to keep secrets from Childe, and in the beginning the urge had been there. Who would want a significant other who jumped at shadows and was always spinning tales of the dark in their head? Especially someone like Childe who was so confident, so self-possessed. It was shameful, a part of you told yourself, how could he bear it?
But you were glad he’d figured it out, that you couldn’t keep secrets from him. Because at the end of the day Childe knew you best, knew how to keep the fear and the anxiety at bay, knew that being afraid of the dark, although worth a little teasing, didn’t make you any less of a mature and intelligent human being. And for that you loved him.
You loved him so much.
  Diluc
“I know this might be sudden, but I want you to move into the Winery.”
That simple sentence had the adverse effect of completely messing up your life.
Your initial reaction had essentially been to buffer. Living together with Diluc, living with the person you loved above all others, it really seemed like a dream come true. Like something you’d wish to happen without any hope of said wish being realized. And yet it wasn’t a dream. He’d actually asked you. Diluc had actually asked you to live with him.
Once you’d gotten over your initial euphoria however a problem seemed instantly to present itself. That problem being that you were absolutely terrified of the Winery after dark.
I mean, who wouldn’t be? It was an old building, old enough for servants to whisper about lights that turned on without prompting, about footsteps coming down the empty halls, about people of old stepping out of their portraits and dancing the night away. It was absolutely terrifying to you, who already looked upon the dark with no little suspicion. And although the occasional night with Diluc was fine, you weren’t sure if you could deal with waiting in such a vast, creaking space alone.
But you didn’t want to tell Diluc that. Because though you were indeed a bit terrified, living with him did sound heavenly. It was something you dreamed of, and you didn’t want Diluc to come away with the wrong impression, the idea that you somehow thought he was being too familiar or going too fast. The thought of telling Diluc about your predicament never crossed your mind in the span of the conversation. After all it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it, he couldn’t very well redo the entire winery. Besides, it was such a silly fear, telling him about it would feel like you were making a mountain out of a molehill.
Eventually your mind settled on an answer: dragging the matter out. Professing your happiness at the idea you told him that it would require some mulling over, not to mention the paperwork in regards to the apartment you were currently living in. Diluc took it all with perfect understanding, assuring you that he could wait. “Besides,” he’d said, “what’s a little while when compared to the rest of our lives?” You’d blushed profusely at that, burying your face in Diluc’s neck. Yes, it would be alright in the end. And with that you pushed it out of your mind.
For the time being.
Although Diluc had many virtues patience was – perhaps surprisingly – not among them. Not more than three days had passed before he mentioned it again. Not that you were unhappy about it, no it wasn’t that. Nor did you feel pressured by him, you certainly didn’t. It was just the question of the Winery itself, and the fear that hung over your head like a sword. Just some time, a little more time.
The days turned into weeks, then almost a whole month, the whole time being wrapped up in your little song and dance. Diluc was evidently feeling dejected, but though you felt more than a little guilty about the whole matter, you still continued stalling.
Finally though things came to a head.
“My dear I understand if you don’t want to move in, but please just tell me!” Diluc burst out, voice dripping with frustration. “I understand if this is going too fast, I understand if you’re overwhelmed, I understand if you realize you’re not ready. But you must tell me, you must tell me what you’re thinking or else I’ll never be able to put this at rest.”
“It’s not that.” You assured him, shaking your head violently.
“Then what is it?” Your reply stuck in your mouth at his question. Why had it come to this? Conflicting emotions rose inside you, but all of them pointed towards one thing. You needed to tell him the truth. You needed to, or else this was going to turn into one of the stupidest rows you’d ever participated in.
“I… I’m afraid of the dark.” You replied softly, voice petering out to be no more than a whisper. Immediately the look of exasperation on Diluc’s face was replaced by one of concern.
“My dear?”
“I’m afraid of the dark,” you replied, this time with more force, “I’m afraid of the dark and I’m really afraid of the Winery after dark. So that’s why I’ve been putting it off. Not because I don’t want to move in, not because I think this is going too fast, but because the Winery makes me uncomfortable after dark. It’s so creaky and open and old and while that might be charming in the daytime, at night I feel like someone’s watching me.” You hugged yourself slightly, the image placed vividly in your mind. Yes, you did feel like you were being watched. Everywhere you turned you were surrounded by the eyes of those who were long gone, and it frightened you, how terribly it frightened you.
Diluc closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping you in his embrace. You reciprocated immediately, inhaling deeply, comforted by his presence.
“I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t know. If I had I’d have never proposed it.”
“You couldn’t’ve known,” your voice was slightly muffled by his jacket, “besides, I didn’t want to tell you. Because I knew you couldn’t do anything about it.” Lifting your head up you gazed at Diluc, who cupped your face with his hand.
“You don’t have to move in my dear.” Diluc’s voice was soft but firm, there was nothing but sympathy and encouragement in it. You smiled softly, leaning into the palm of his hand.
“But I want to. That’s the problem Diluc, I desperately want to move in. And yet I don’t know what to do. I can’t have you hanging around me each night. You’re the Darknight Hero. I cannot expect you to give that up for me. Even if you said you would I wouldn’t let you. I know how much it matters to you.”
There was a pause before Diluc spoke again. “Then let me suggest this. We see ways that we might accommodate. Perhaps a night lamp or some such thing. Or perhaps I need to pay more attention to the structure of the Winery. We’ll see what we can do together, and if nothing can be solved then we’ll find another way. Is that alright, my dear?”
“That sounds lovely.” You replied, finally smiling in earnest. What did you do to deserve such a human in your life? It felt like too much sometimes. You were experiencing such happiness as you seldom had before, not to such a degree. And you cherished it with all your heart.
It was the evening. You two were getting ready for the night, you preparing to go home, Diluc preparing for the task ahead of him.
“You spoil me terribly, you know.” You said, planting a quick kiss on Diluc’s cheek. Diluc smiled slightly mischievously, leaning down to give you a proper kiss.
“I don’t spoil you.” He finally replied, expression softening to one of fondness. “And if there was anyone in the world worth spoiling it’s you. I love you my dear, I’d do anything for you.”
“And I for you.” Your reply was soft, you yourself overcome by the love you felt.
It’d be alright in the end. If you knew anything, you knew that. It’d be alright. Because you’d have the one you loved most in the world with you every step.
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glowingbadger · 3 years
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How are there no SFW and nsfw modern day Felix HCs? I must remedy this.
Ah, I actually have a few Modern AU Felix thingies- they're just scattered throughout posts about multiple different characters lol. You can find them all in my masterlist, but lemme go ahead and compile everything I've written for him so far~ ((There aren't many NSFW ones yet, so if anyone has a nice Modern AU spicy concept for Felix for me to toy around with, I'm all ears :3))
Felix (FE3H) x Reader, Modern/College AU
SFW (nsfw below the cut):
From the BL Modern AU hcs: He’s a business major, but his heart clearly isn’t in it- he’s only doing it because he’s expected to run his father’s company some day. He’s at the gym every time you go (presumably plenty of times when you’re not there too), before you realize it, you start looking for him there. You tell yourself it’s just because you admire his motivation. He catches you staring though one day, and calls you out. Somehow, you stumble your way through introductions, but before long he’s telling you how you’re not stretching properly at all, how your jogging pace is inefficient, and just like that, you’ve got a gym partner who eventually becomes the most secretly-sweet boyfriend.
From 'modern AU w/ insecure Reader': He’s a funny one about this, honestly- his feelings for you are strong and enduring, and because of the intensity of what he feels, he does have a hard time understanding what you’re insecure about. He’ll grab your hand and grumble that, “I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I? I wouldn’t waste my time if I didn’t love you.” He’s also definitely one of those types who wants to help in concrete ways, so he’ll interrogate you about what’s making you anxious and what he’s screwed up- he knows he’s not good at romantic stuff, but he’s willing to do absolutely anything to make you happy. He will never admit it but he somehow finds himself lurking on relationship forums to better understand how you’re feeling
From escape room BL hcs: This poor boy. He does not understand why you would intentionally put yourself in the position of being trapped somewhere for fun. But you get so excited and so into the whole thing that he simply can’t help wanting to help you if he can- not that he would ever admit it. It’s just that your moods are so contagious to him and he can’t help wanting to see that adorable, triumphant smile you give when you’ve figured out the next clue. Absolutely the type to get impatient if one code or riddle is taking too long, and will 'test out’ the structural integrity of the doors, walls and locks.
From 'modern AU soft hcs': - He’s so bad at being soft, but he wants to be for you, but also doesn’t want to be because ew feelings. Which he has a lot of. This is why the main way he expresses his affection is through physical contact. It’s mostly in private, where he can be super cuddly with you- but in public, he’ll still find times to lightly brush his hand against yours, or an excuse to “fix” your hair, mumbling, “It’s flying all over the place, hold still-” even though it’s really not that out of place, he just wants a reason to touch you.
- Felix is a funny one to bring your problems to. He’s actually a surprisingly good listener for someone he cares about, so he’s happy to just hold onto your hand and listen to you vent about whatever’s bothering you. If it’s an interpersonal problem, he’ll probably offer to confront or straight up fight whoever is giving you trouble, which might at least get you to laugh, even though he fully means it. But for a more serious problem, he’ll quietly wipe away your tears and remind you, “Hey, listen- you just… keep living your life as you, okay? You can’t be anyone else, and I don’t want you to be.”
- He secretly loves it when you play with his hair. While he’s studying or gaming, he likes to lean back against the edge of his bed or a couch and have you sitting behind him brushing out his hair, or even braiding or pulling it up for him if you like. He finds your touch incredibly soothing, and there have even been times when he’s spaced out a bit and completely forgotten what he was doing because he was just enjoying your nails along his scalp and your fingers through his hair. Honestly, it’s a bit like scratching a cat’s ears- he’ll even subconsciously lean against you if he’s not careful.
From general modern AU hcs:
- he’s very cat-like in how he chooses to show his affection. He’ll almost never verbally express it, and to many, he comes across as cold. But if you know what to look for, the signs are incredibly obvious. The mere fact that he goes out of his way to just be near you, the fact that he’ll jump to your defense the moment someone dares to give you a hard time, small gifts that he’ll give with a carefully neutral, “It’s not a big deal, it just seemed like the kinda thing you’d like.”
- Once you’ve been together for a bit though, he’s extremely physically affectionate in private- only in private, mind you. Alone in your dorm or apartment, he’s very cuddly, holding you close to him at any chance he gets and resting his chin on your shoulder, or nuzzling against your neck. Sometimes he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but he’ll run a hand along your back or your waist when he moves by you, or his thumb will rub little circles along your thigh when you’re sitting together. Don’t call him out on it though- he’ll lurch away immediately and be too shy to touch you for an hour or two.
- His friends definitely know he’s developed a thing for someone very early on. He tends to be notorious among his friends for never checking his phone or responding to messages, and when he does respond, it’s in five words or fewer. Once he’s started getting close to you though, he keeps his phone in his hand while he’s hanging out with the other Blue Lions, glancing down at the screen every ten seconds, and completely impossible to communicate with when he’s thinking of what to send you when you do message him.
NSFW 18+ v
- he’s the type to feel most comfortable initiating sex when you’re just relaxing in one of your rooms together. In the middle of a movie or playing video games together- or even just sitting quietly and studying together on his bed- he glances over at you and it just hits him that you’re his, you chose him, and damnit he’s just so crazy into you. He leans over and kisses you without a word, then slides his tongue past your lips, pulling you closer until you can very evidently feel that he needs you now.
- His roommate (Sylvain) is quite the renowned flirt on campus, and likes to tease Felix by openly hitting on you in front of him. All three of you know that it’s genuinely in jest, and that Sylvain would never push things TOO far… but that doesn’t stop Felix from fucking you extra hard and deep once you have the place to yourselves again. He’s generally not very vocal during sex, but if his insecurities have been prodded a bit, he’ll lift your legs into a mating press and pound his cock into you, groaning out, “tell me you’re mine, Y/N. C'mon- again, louder-!”
- Overall, isn’t much one for intimacy in public places- but once or twice, you’ll encounter a bit of an exception. Gym dates with Felix are generally common and comfortable enough, and he’s actually very helpful in improving your technique and efficiency when working out. But he won’t let on for quite some time that it also turns him on immensely to see your body moving like this, and the scent of your sweat and pheromones drive him near feral. If it’s late enough at night and there’s no one else to overhear you, he’ll drag you into one of the changing room showers and fuck you breathless against the wall, his tongue dragging along your neck and his hands groping every inch of you he can reach.
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slasherbastard · 3 years
Note
“I deserve to rot.” “It never mattered anyway.” And “You’re supposed to be yelling at me! And… and hitting me! Why aren’t you doing that?!” (Platonic) With a happy ending for a young-teen slasher reader? Billy and Stu plz 👉👈 love your storys
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Warnings: Angst, a little bit of violence,  Word count: 2950 Notes: Sorry this took forever to write also it’s the longest prompt i’ve written
You sat down beside Billy on Sidney's bed and tried to hand him a glass of water which he refused, you sighed and set the cup down. You were never close with Sidney Prescott despite her being in your "friend group" but you wanted to be there for your best friend Billy since his girlfriend was just murdered by a lunatic in a cheap Halloween costume. The two of you had been hiding in his ex-girlfriend's room since the two of you arrived at the wake, Billy spent almost the entire time silent while you sat beside him just trying to keep him company while he grieved.
You knew that he blamed himself for Sidney's death and you didn't know if being here would be good for him but he wanted to be here, to see her room one last time. You watched as he stood up and walked over to her desk and fumbled with something on it before muttering something you nearly didn't hear. "I deserve to rot."
Your expression softened as you looked up at him. "Billy, no you don't-"
"Yes I do." He raised his voice and turned to face you. "I'm the reason she died, I- I could've saved her." He stopped once he realised what he'd just said and covered his mouth as his eyes glossed over with tears and you quickly stood up and pulled him in for a hug, he cried into your shoulder as you rubbed his back and said nothing, just letting him let out his emotions before the door opened and Stu walked in.
"I thought I'd find you guys in here." Stu spoke quietly, he came over and sat on Billy's right side. "How're you holding up?"
"Well, my girlfriend is dead, and you couldn't have arrived any later." He scratched his eye and stepped away from you, looking at the two of you. "We should get going, I just want to get this over with." Billy grabbed his coat that was hanging over the chair at the desk and didn't wait for the two of you as he walked out to his car. Stu looked at you.
"What is it?" Stu asked, sitting down on the bed.
"He still blames himself for her death, you know?"
"Yeah, Sid really meant a lot to him but he'll be fine."
"I don't know, Stu. I'm just worried that he's going to do something regrettable."
Stu shook his head, you swore he tried to hide a smile. "He'll be fine,  trust me."
You just nodded in response and the two of you exited the house, finding Billy leaning against his car smoking. When he saw you he chucked his cigarette on the floor and stomped on it before getting into the car. The ride to the church was silent except for the sound of the radio playing quietly and Stu humming along in the backseat, the car slowed to a stop outside the church next to multiple news vans and other cars. People dressed in black filed into the church, Billy didn’t move. “Billy? We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”
“No I do it’s just that-” He ran a hand through his hair. “- I have to, I was her boyfriend. Uh, just, I’ll catch up with you guys, I’m just going to talk to daddy dearest.” He pointed at Mr. Loomis who was not so subtly eying the car, you and Stu stepped out of the car and began walking up to the church.
You turned your head to see Billy stepping out of the car and walking over to talk with his father before you and Stu entered the church and found a free row at the back and sat down, throwing your coat down in the space beside you for Billy. “I’ve never been to a funeral before.”
Stu looked at you. “Really? Well don't get too excited, someone just died." you rolled your eyes and scanned the room in the hopes you'd find someone who looked familiar but instead you just saw a bunch of your high school peers who you knew Sid never talked to, Stu caught onto this. "Yeah, I think about 10 people here actually knew Sid, the rest are just fans."
"Fans?"
"Yeah, a lot of these people are just here so they can say 'hey, I went to Sidney Prescott's funeral', and then there's mostly people who idolise the guy who killed her because they think he's a hunk underneath that costume. There are people out there who actually think the killer's hot. I mean, how messed up is that?" Stu laughed and a few seconds later Billy slid into the seat beside you and thanked you.
"What did your father want?"
"Oh he asked me if I had prepared that eulogy for the funeral. . .which I didn't." Billy ran a hand through his hair and looked around as Mr. Loomis walked in, making eye contact with him for a few seconds before finding his own seat. You turned to Billy and gently touched his arm, he looked down at you and you went to talk but the sound of feedback filled the room. You looked forward and saw a woman apologising and holding a microphone.
She introduced herself as Sidney's aunt and Neil's sister, she was the first of many people to give their speeches about Sidney. Finally, after what seemed like forever, a family member finished their eulogy about Sidney and stood in front of the podium. "Now I would like Billy Loomis - Sidney's boyfriend - to come up, Billy?" Billy stood up and awkwardly walked up to the front of the hall and got behind the podium, pulling out a folded piece of paper and unfolding it and looking at the crowd of people.
"Sidney. Sidney, Sidney, Sidney, where do I start with you?" Billy sighed. "Alright, I have to admit that this is just a blank piece of paper." Billy held the paper up and flipped both sides to the audience sitting below him as if he was a magician, an awkward silence filled the room. Billy awkwardly coughed and stuffed the paper into one of the pockets on his suit and apologised before continuing. "Sidney would've laughed. She was truly something, you know she didn't deserve this. I just wish I could go back to that night and save her. It just- it repeats in my head over and over and it haunts me. All I can see is her face and her voice- oh, her voice. I'd give so much just to hear her voice one more time or hold her. I just miss her so much." Billy bit his lip as his eyes began to water, he recomposed himself and continued his speech. "Sidney was such a beautiful person. I remember this one time when we were together. We were watching this horror movie together and there's this part where one of the characters gets possessed and he's just being thrown around the room, but she pauses it and turns to me and she starts talking about how she wants a future with me." Billy paused as scattered sobs filled the audience. "She didn't deserve any of this and I mean this with all due respect but whoever kill you, Sids, I'm going to fucking-"
“Okay that’s enough, Mr. Loomis.” The person who announced him pulled him away from the podium and Billy joined you and Stu again in the back of the church as one of Sidney’s relatives stood up to give her speech. Billy sat down looking surprisingly calm despite his short outburst, some people were still turning back to offer judging and amusing glances at him.
"You okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" He looked forward for a few seconds then looked at you, speaking in a hushed voice. "Hey, wanna ditch this? Grab Stu and meet me outside." He didn't wait for a response before getting up and leaving. Stu looked really confused and was about to ask about what happened but you shut him up by grabbing his arm and pulling him up, practically dragging him out of the building.
You both caught up to Billy as he was getting into his car and you noticed that he was acting completely different from how his was this morning let alone just a few minutes ago, it was as if he'd forgotten what'd happened or maybe he didn't care. You and Stu got in and Billy turned the radio up as loud as he could and barely let you put on your seatbelt before driving.
To be honest you were worried and a bit too scared to ask him what was going on. You would've asked Stu but he was back to his old goofy self and encouraging Billy's reckless behaviour so you decided to keep quiet and let Billy take you guys to wherever pleased him. Eventually you guys just ended up at a 7/11 - you were expecting a cliff or maybe a ditch but you were glad that you were alive. The three of you got out and Billy threw his arms around yours and Stu's shoulders as the three of you walked in and got a few questioning looks from the other customers.
Stu broke apart from your little group and began hunting down snacks in the snack aisle while you and Billy went straight to the slushie machines. "Hey, Billy? What was all that before?"
"What'cha mean? Oh, Cola or Raspberry?"
"Raspberry. I mean, you were devastated and now we're here." he began filling up two plastic cups and waited until they were full before handing them both to you.
"Eh, it never mattered anyway. Hey, go hand this to Stu and make sure he's not being an idiot." you took them and went to find Stu who from over the shelves, looked like he was one wrong move away from dropping all the crap he was holding. Still you were very confused about Billy's reaction but you assumed he was just having a mood swing to cope with Sidney's death. You glanced back at him before walking into the snack aisle and laughing at how stupid Stu looked.
"A little help here?"
"Sorry, my hands are full." You held up the two slushies and Stu ended up dropping everything on the floor. "Jeez, let me put these on the counter then I'll come help you." You shook your head while biting back a smile and found the front counter and set the drinks down as Billy passed you holding another cup. "Stu's in trouble." You laughed as you followed him to see Stu trying to pick up all the stuff he dropped plus a few extra chocolate bars from the shelf.
"At least you didn't drop the soda. Fuck, the soda." Billy dumped all the stuff he was holding and went to grab a 24 pack of coca cola cans, Stu giving him an 'are you joking' look and rolling his eyes as he picked up the rest of the snacks.
You helped them clean up the mess and ended up only buying 3 bags of chips and 12 candy bars instead of 20 bags of chips and 17 candy bars like Stu had originally planned, paid for them all and left. You got into the car and threw all the bags of snacks into the back for Stu to 'guard' and took a sip of your drink as Stu and Billy stood outside and talked.
A few minutes later they both got into the car. "Y/N, do you want to stay over tonight"
"Yeah, sure." You nodded and noticed Billy and Stu grinning at each other through the rear view mirror, not thinking much of it as Billy started the car and pulled out of the gas station.
"Thanks for staying here tonight."
"Yeah it's good." You said as you caught a pillow Billy threw at you and dropped it on top of the spread out blankets on the couch. "Are you sure your dad's cool with me staying over?"
"Yeah, he's working late tonight anyways."
Stu dumped all the snacks on the coffee table and ran into the kitchen to grabbed 3 cans of cola and fell onto your makeshift bed. "Okay so what are we watching first? We got Day of the Dead, Re-animator, Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, or The Funhouse." Billy threw you another pillow which you immediately whacked Stu with, causing him to fall off the couch, you dropped down onto the couch and grabbed a bag of chips but Stu grabbed it before you could open them. "These are for the movie marathon." He stuck a finger up at you to wave in your face but you just kicked in and grabbed the chips off him again and opened the bag.
Billy rolled his eyes and grabbed one of the movies off the table and stuck it into the tv and sat beside you as the movie loaded on screen while Stu pulled himself off the floor and grabbed one of the coca cola cans and popped it open, taking a sip.
About two movies into the marathon the three of you ended up passing out but you were the first to wake up. Checking the time it was only 10:31PM and you really needed to use the bathroom so you got up and jumped over Stu's body and walked upstairs and found the bathroom and did your business. You came out of the bathroom and was about to go back downstairs when you noticed that Billy's bedroom door was opened and your curiosity got the better of you as you peaked downstairs and saw that the two guys were still asleep and creeped into the bedroom.
Billy's room was exactly what you'd expected it to be, some band posters on the wall above his bed and a messy room. You don't know what you wanted to see, maybe a naughty magazine loosely hidden under his bed, maybe a bottle of alcohol. You shrugged and went to leave his room when you noticed something behind his door and opened it to see a small pile of black material.
You opened the door and stuck your head out again before closing it and picking up the material which you were certain was just a shirt he forgot to throw in with the rest of his dirty laundry, but instead a knife fell out. It made a semi-loud noise as it hit the hard wood floor and you covered your mouth and hoped that it didn't wake up Billy or Stu - Billy especially. You went to pick up the knife but then you felt something else hidden in the fabric and turned it over to see a white mask, this is a Father Death costume, the same one used in the Woodsboro murders.
This could mean one of two things, Billy was another one of those losers who terrorises random people for fun, or he actually killed Sidney, and you really hoped he was just a loser. You quickly dropped the costume on top of the knife and kicked it into the corner where you found it and exited the bedroom and you were about to go back downstairs but then you realised that you needed answers so you grabbed the costume and knife and hid it behind your back with one hand and headed downstairs.
Billy and Stu were still asleep. "Wake up." You half-yelled, Stu managed to wake up while Billy stayed still, lightly snoring. Stu rubbed his eyes and looked at you before realising that something was wrong. He tried to get up but you held your free hand up and he began hitting Billy's chest, waking him up after a few hits.
"What is time it?" The two of them were still trying to wake up when you bit your lip and held up the mess of black fabric and the knife and their faces both dropped and turned pale at the same time. You dropped the contents onto the floor and without skipping a beat you walked for the front door. You didn't get far before Billy grabbed you and forced you to look at him. "Y/N, I swear it's not what it looks like."
"You killed her." You said quietly, Billy let go of you but you didn't really react. He expected anything from screaming to attacking but you just stood there, confusing him.
"I don't understand, you’re supposed to be yelling at me! And… and hitting me! Why aren’t you doing that?”
"Well, I'm just trying to make this easy for you. If you want to kill me, then do it."
Now Stu had stood up and was watching the two of you, Billy bit the inside of his cheek. "We're not going to kill you, Y/N." He took a step closer to you and you took a step back. "Y/N, please. We have no reason to hurt you, think about that. I only killed Sid of her mother." He took another step towards you but this time you didn't move.
You didn't know what you wanted or if you could trust either of them. Billy got closer and gently pulled you in for a hug, slowly wrapping his arms around you and resting a hand in your hair and rubbing your back. "I don't know why but I trust you." You whispered just loud enough for him to hear and his grip on you slightly tightened - not in a claustrophobic way, but more comforting as you felt yourself melt into him. "Just don't kill me."
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wangxianficrecs · 3 years
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Follower Recs
Stories I haven’t read yet, but clearly need to put on my ever-expanding List.
~*~
Welcome back queen [Thank you, it’s so lovely to be back!] if ur still doing follower recs I gotta recommend I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett it’s soooooooo good
[This one was actually recced to me by two different people, the other of whom said, “ Maybe I'm crying a little so I feel like a should recommend ‘I would wait for a thousand years’ by bleuett on ao3.”]... it’s def. on my List!
I would wait for a thousand years
by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian)
Summary:  During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair.
“Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.”
“I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.”
“And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.”
~*~
I just read a great fic by aisthuu "every love story is a ghost story", didn't see it in your recs so wanted to recommend it! LWJ is a guqin composer and teacher, buys a cheap guqin off eBay which ends up being attached to WWX's spirit from canon era. It's bittersweet, LWJ deals with Lan's homophobia (implicit in a Lan way) and his feelings towards the ghost. This is author's only ao3 fic and honestly I don't remember how I stumbled upon it, but I'm happy I did and hope you will enjoy it too!  [I’ve recently read this one, and loved it!]
every love story is a ghost story
by aisthuu (M, 59k, wangxian, my bookmark)
Summary:  The man is in Lan Zhan’s bed. Did they—he begins to wonder, eyes trailing to where the man’s body lies under the blanket. Had Lan Zhan—?
Then the sleep-fog clears and Lan Zhan realizes that the young man isn’t quite opaque around the edges.
“You’re a spirit.”
The spirit narrows its eyes. “I’m so much more than that.”
(Lan Zhan buys a guqin off eBay for a suspiciously low price, only to find that it’s haunted. And now there’s a ghost in his bed.)
~*~
Ok so I absolutely have to rec "see you yesterday" by glyphic. It's a wip, but it's currently at 101k so there's a whole lot there, and it's terrible and wonderful and beautiful all at once. The way the backstory of canon events is adapted to the modern-with-cultivation setting is brilliant, and then there's the amnesia, and then there's the time loop. This fic lives permanently rent-free in my brain.
see you yesterday
by glyphic (M, 101k, wangxian, WIP)
Summary:  
Wei Ying 21:09 hey lan zhan what’s the weirdest way youve died
Lan Zhan 21:11 Falling encyclopedias.
Wei Ying 21:12 omg no way that’s so rude turning books against you???
Lan Zhan 21:13 A betrayal I will never forget.
On Halloween night, an exiled demonic cultivator and a Lan disciple get stuck in a time-loop, find each other, and try to figure it all out.
~*~
If you are looking for recs for yourself I absolutely love (the complete!) story Just as the Snow Melts by draechali on AO3. It's a canon divergence where everyone lives, even WWX! ~ @airmidcelt
Just as the Snow Melts
by draechaeli (T, 67k, wangxian)
Summary:  Like a snowy mountain top in spring the residents of the Burial Mounds trickled down the mountain and joined the flow of society.
“I went to the Burial Mounds,” Lan WangJi said.
“Ah, yeah… I’m sorry Lan Zhan,” replied Wei WuXian, “I hadn’t thought anyone would come to visit. I am still not sure how it happened; I brought A-Yuan to Yiling to play by the river and then ended up somehow teaching a bunch of children swimming and writing along with him.”
~*~
Hello! It's come to my attention that you have not as yet read Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation! Please do! It's the only thing that gave me joy during 2020 😆 like proper belly laughs and disney villain style cackling. It is a wip, and it is long but so so worth it!! The author has reworked the entire canon through these message crystals and still conveys complex characters despite the tricky format. It's just so good!! Highly highly recommend it! ❤ ~ @theladypeartree  [Oh!  I’ve been subscribed to this one, and know that @swaglexander-the-great is a reliable provider of Hilarity, so I’m excited for it to be finished!]
Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation 
by Hades_the_Blingking (T, 49k, wangxian, WIP)
Summary:  The Untamed universe is exactly the same, except everybody has magical crystals that have a suspiciously familiar messaging system. The story is pretty much the same as the show, except everyone lives!! (so minor changes).
or in which Wei WuXian tries his darndest to date Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng possibly has a aneurysm, Jin ZiXuan is still the most awkward human alive, and Xue Yang makes me write some VERY cursed things. Written in chatfic format! :3
~*~
Chomrafy on AO3 deserves love and encouragement; she’s written a body of compact, poetic, and eloquent shortfics each of which can stand alone, but that comprise an intricately cross-referential and mostly internally-consistent universe. They’re grouped as chapters in works according to theme; for example, “in cupped hands” focuses upon Jin Ling and his second-generation baggage; “Departure in Autumn” portrays the last years of WWX’s first life. Follow the tag “Chomrafy’s MDZS shortfics.” [I don’t see this tag?]
in cupped hands
by chomrafy (G, 2k, wangxian)
Summary:  Of secrets, of futures, of love. A Jin Ling-centric collection of 200-word fics.
Ch.1: Jin Ling repays a debt (JL, JC, & WWX). Ch.2: Jin Ling and a ghost in the mirror. (JL & JYL) Ch.3: A matter of friends (JL & the other kids) Ch.4: In this house we don't keep dogs (JC & WWX) Ch.5: In the end, he remains silent (JL & uncles) Ch.6: A first night hunt, of sorts (JL & the other kids) Ch.7: Jin Ling, forgiving, forgetting (JL & LXC & JGY) Ch.8: Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling argue (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.9: Jin Ling and his father (JL & JC) Ch.10: Jin Ling speaks up (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.11: Jin Ling and a piece of home (JL, JC, & WWX)
Departure in Autumn
by chomrafy (not rated, 6k)
Summary:  Four perspectives. A steady march to the end.
Ch.1: Because if anything happens to them, Wen Qing would never be able to heal with these hands again. Ch.2: As long as this is still home, Jiang Yanli will wait as long as she needs to. Ch.3: Five times Jiang Cheng reaches for Wei Wuxian, one time he turns away. Ch.4: Whether the road is broad or narrow, bright or dark, they would have to keep walking. Wei Wuxian digs Wen Qing's grave.
~*~
Hello, hope all is going well. I don't have an ask, by I do have a recommendation. I read this fic a while ago and found it again. I just wanted to recommend this for everyone. Let me know what you think please. Thank you. [Oh!  This one’s in my To Read list, but  I’d forgotten about it.  Mmmm, fox!wwx and dragon!lwj.]
Ten miles of Lotus Flowers
by Yukirin_Snow
M, 274k, wangxian
Summary:  He was a mischievous fox spirit, wreaking havoc where he went, about to depart on a journey that would span centuries.
He was a heavenly prince, a proud dragon destined to ascend the throne to become emperor.
Neither expected their paths to collide over the span of three lives.
~*~
I forgot if it was your blog 😥 that recommended “Bestseller” (when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528316/chapters/51318766)
But OMG IT WAS HILARIOUS!!! I LOVED IT!! And if it wasn’t your blog, I’m so sorry for how weird this sounds 😭😭😭😭 I just loved this fic so much that I have to tell it to someone 😢 [It’s on my List, but I haven’t read it yet!]
Bestseller
by pupeez4eva
M, 8k, wangxian
Summary:  He had written the book to prove a point. It was never supposed to be a big thing, and he certainly never intended for everyone — Jiang Cheng, Zewu-Jun, the Juniors, literally everyone— to be reading about his sex life.
Oh God, he definitely needed to make sure Lan Zhan didn’t find out about this.
(Or, when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit).
~*~
I’d like to rec On Your Marks, Get Set, Bake! by @blackwiresgrowonherhead
It’s one of my absolute favorites and I laughed out loud so many times when reading it
on your marks, get set, bake!
by BlackWiresOnHerHead
G, 41k, wei wuxian & juniors
Summary:  Jin Ling resumes thumping on the door to room 721, and the small collection of freshmen starts chanting “Senior Wei! Senior Wei! Senior Wei!” with increasing volume until finally Wei Wuxian opens the door.
“Yes?” he says with his widest, most innocent eyes.
“Senior Wei!” demands Lan Jingyi, shoving himself to the front of the group. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re a contestant on this year’s season of The Great Gusu Bake Off?!?”
--
Several months ago, college student Wei Wuxian secretly competed in the most popular reality show in the country. The show starts airing in the fall. The freshmen in his dorm collectively lose their minds.
~*~
If you're in the mood for v. short ridiculous fun fic, may I suggest My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio by x_los It's 2k modern cultivators AU, featuring WWX calling LWJ's sword Bitchin' [omg I’m laughing so hard] and I think it's more fun going in blind?
My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio
by x_los
T, 2k, wangxian
Summary:  Lan Wangji finds he doesn't even need to call for help for Wei Wuxian to come running.
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writing-good-vibes · 2 years
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Hi there! for the halloween prompts, may I request scene starter 22, with Sheriff Bracket please? thank you! ps. hope it's okay if I send more than one request <3
hello !! thank you for requesting !! (and multiple requests are totally fine 😊😊 here is the link to the halloween prompt list for anyone else who would like to request 🎃)
i've never lived in an area that had a lot of trick or treating so this is a very cute scenario that i'm happy i got to write for,, i hope you enjoy it (and apologies in advance if people don't vibe with the scooby doo reference but, when inspiration strikes you have to take it lol) 📚💓
It was a cold, clear Halloween night in Haddonfield. Stars speckled the sky and a heavy white moon cast light over the rooftops before being swallowed by the street lights.
Kids in makeshift costumes - ghosts and pirates and princesses and superheroes - trailed up and down the suburban streets with their buckets and pillowcases half full of candy dragging behind them.
You sat, cuddled beneath a woolly blanket with the Sheriff, a bowl of halloween candy balanced between you whilst you watched a scary movie. You loved scary movies; the Sheriff was lead inclined but more than willing to sit through any and all scary movies for your enjoyment.
Despite the movie playing, you'd been up and down all night answering the door to little trick or treaters. Seems like every kid in town knew to drop by the Sheriff's house. Sometimes it was you who went to the door and sometimes it was the Sheriff. Either way, the kids were happy with their loot.
"I still can't believe you hand out full size candy bars on halloween," you said, picking out your favourite from the bowl and peeling off the wrapper as you sat back down on the couch.
"Ah it's only once a year," Lee shrugged, pulling you back against his side, "and I think maybe if I do the kids might be less inclined to cause trouble the other 364 days."
You laugh around a mouthful of chocolate, leaning against his chest, his flannel shirt warm under your cheek. "Oh, I don't think so, I think it just reminds them that you're soft."
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead gently.
Before you could fully settle in again for the movie, the doorbell rang again and you could hear the muffled chatter and giggles of the children waiting outside.
Lee made to get up, taking the candy bowl with him, but you followed him this time.
"TRICK OR TREAT!" the gaggle of little girls squealed. You immediately recognised their costumes; they were dressed as the Hex Girls.
"Thorn, Luna, Dusk! You all look amazing," you greeted the girls by their characters' names, almost pushing past Lee to stoop down and marvel at the tiny witches before you.
The Sheriff handed you the candy bowl and while you spoke to the kids, he waved amicably to the parents who were stood at the end of the drive way.
After a few minutes you said goodbye and let the girls leave with their candy, their little cheeks flushed red with excitement as they went back to their parents and carried on down the street to the next house.
Closing the door, you turned back to Lee finally, who was smirking slightly at your enthusiasm.
"Weren't they the cutest?" you asked.
"That they were," he agreed, mostly for your benefit.
"I used to want to be a Hex Girl," you considered the thought for a second. "Actually, I still kind of want to be a Hex Girl."
You both sit back down, Lee pulling the blanket back over you.
"You'd make a great Hex Girl," he reassured you, "Whatever that might be."
You laugh at his unconditional support, curling up against him and bring the blanket up to your chin as your eyes went absently back to the TV screen. The film had moved on drastically and you had no real idea what was happening anymore, but you figured you could find something else to occupy your time.
Your fingers trailed across the Sheriff's chest, the soft material of his shirt comforting beneath your fingers. Then lower and lower your hand drifted. Lee pulls you closer against him, rough fingertips tracing the back of your wandering hand for just a moment before going to your cheek, turning your face to his.
The film goes on forgotten in the background as his lips meet yours and you sigh with contentment.
DING DONG.
The doorbell goes again and your attention is brought back to the calls and laughs of families and the spooky festivities going on outside.
"Damn," Lee grumbles pulling away from you, "Duty calls."
You smile anyway, heaving yourself off the couch and taking the bowl over to the door.
Dutifully you compliment costumes and dole out candy before return to the couch, sitting down for what felt like the thousandth time that night.
"I can't wait till all the kids go home and we can finally have some peace and quiet," you murmur, lips just barely brushing the Sheriff's.
His hands, strong and soft all at once, hold onto your waist, "Not too quiet, I hope."
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iboughtaplant · 3 years
Text
I tried to write angst! Here is a short Geraskier fic I wrote based on the Regina Spektor song Samson. 
A Pair of Dull Scissors in the Yellow Light 
Rating: T
Warnings: no archive warnings 
Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier 
Tags: Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Blood, Head Injury, Haircuts, Sort Of, Songfic, Song: Samson (Regina Spektor), a lot about Geralt's hair, I love Geralt's long hair so idk why I wrote a fic about his hair being chopped off
Read it on AO3
Geralt’s hair had always been long the whole time Jaskier knew him. Granted, Jaskier hadn’t known Geralt for very long compared to how old the witcher was.
When he first saw him, Jaskier was drawn to the quiet witcher seated in the corner. His long silver-white hair framing his handsome face. He was then of course drawn to the medallion and swords that marked him as a witcher. Not just excited to talk to a pretty face, but to hear the stories he could tell.
They might not have got off to the best start, but Jaskier...he loved Geralt. It might have been a bit of hero worship at first, this brave, strong witcher with a heart of gold. Branded as a mutant, a butcher, the stuff of nightmares in stories told to small children. But Jaskier loved him first. He loved Geralt above all else. His lute might be a close second, but that didn’t detract from the fact that he loved Geralt first.
It also meant he was already head over heels in love with Geralt when Geralt finally confessed that the love was mutual a few years into their friendship.
--------------------
Soon after Geralt confessed his feelings, Jaskier also learned about how Geralt’s long hair was linked to his witcher abilities. He already knew that its silver-white color was due to Geralt’s mutagens, but he hadn’t known there was more to it.
They were in Oxenfurt and Jaskier’s hair was getting too long for his liking, so it was the perfect excuse to spend some of the coin he earned playing in a tavern the night before on a proper haircut from a barber.
“Geralt, you should come with me. I am sure I have enough coin to pay for you to get your hair trimmed.”
“It’s fine, Jaskier. It doesn’t need to be cut.”
“Well maybe it doesn’t need it, but a haircut can be nice and relaxing. I know you love when I wash your hair for you, and they will do that at the barber’s as well.”
“No, Jaskier, it doesn’t need to be cut because it is always the same length.”
“But doesn’t your hair grow? Is it magic that keeps it from growing out of control?” Jaskier asked.
Geralt answered with a “hmm.” He took a long pause before saying more. “It must be tied to the spells the mages used, however they might have changed the mutagens. I don’t know. I don’t cut my hair. And it doesn’t grow past a certain length.”
Geralt then told Jaskier that due to some odd reaction between his body, the extra mutagens, and the magic of the mages his hair was cursed to be tied to the abilities and heightened senses the mutagens afforded him.
Jaskier had thought that Geralt’s long hair had been his one vanity. But of course it was yet another thing out of his control. But it made him curious if Geralt was the only witcher whose hair was tied to his powers.
“I’ve never heard of another witcher with white hair like yours,” Jaskier said. He didn’t want to ask a more pointed question.
“Because I’m the only,” Geralt said, voice thick with emotion. “The only one to receive a second dose of mutagens. Well the only one to survive it at least. The mages experimented on others before me, but I was the only one to survive the ordeal.”
“That’s awful, my love. I’m sorry you had to endure that.” He paused. “And I know it won’t make you feel better about it, but it is quite dashing, if I do say so.” Jaskier said, edging closer to Geralt and running his nimble fingers through the soft strands.
“How about I forgo the haircut and we can spend our coin on that nice soap you pretend you don’t like. I’ll wash your hair for you. And then we can braid it. A bit of a change even if you can’t cut it.”
“I’d like that,” Geralt said in a soft voice.
--------------------
The yellow-orange light of the campfire made everything glow. The atmosphere felt far more comfortable than the current situation. But Jaskier was thankful for the light it granted. Jaskier scrambled to dig his scissors out of his pack and make his way back to Geralt, unconscious on the ground, only his thin bedroll under him.
“I’m sorry, my love,” Jaskier whispered through his tears to Geralt’s unconscious form as he took the scissors—considerably duller than he would have liked, he had forgotten to ask Geralt to sharpen them for him recently—and began to cut away Geralt’s silver locks that were stained red by blood and gore matted in them.
Unfortunately, most, if not all, of the blood belonged to Geralt, the gore belonging to the beast he killed, but not before it almost killed him.
Jaskier’s hands were shaking, he had to grip the scissors with both hands, one hand supporting the other. He had to cut Geralt’s hair. He had to. They were in the middle of a forest, in the middle of nowhere. No towns were close enough to travel to with an injured witcher. Not to mention the fact that Geralt had already been running low on potions. They were going to restock on potion ingredients in the next town they visited. But again said town was too far to travel when Geralt was severely injured and Jaskier was only human, and would not make it there and back with help in time.
The gash on the back of his skull was nasty. Jaskier knew that head wounds bled profusely regardless of their severity, but this one was quite bad and even a witcher could die from bleeding out.
He kept whispering apologies to an unconscious Geralt as he cut away, piece by piece, the tangled, matted hair and clumps of monster gore to better see the wound. The bleeding had hardly slowed, and Geralt had also lost blood from a thin slice down his side. At least the bleeding of that wound had slowed and Jaskier had been able to crumple up one of their shirts to put pressure on it and wrap a bandage around it.
The head wound was much more worrying. Once Geralt’s hair was mostly cut away, Jaskier was able to clean the wound with the water from his water skin, some alcohol from a flask as an antiseptic.
It was a rough job, but at least the wound was cleaned and the bleeding finally slowed. From his kneeling position, Jaskier finally sank down onto his heels. He could feel the sticky tear tracks down his cheeks. He ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He felt the tackiness of the blood still on his hands.
Geralt’s hair had been covered in blood, only fitting that his was now. Geralt’s blood. It was Geralt’s blood on his hands and he hated it.
Once the adrenaline started to wear off, Jaskier realized his hands were shaking again. Or maybe they had been shaking the whole time. It was still an odd sensation as his hands were always steady. Geralt pointed it out many a time when he had to guide Jaskier through stitching him up over the years.
--------------------
Once Jaskier was done stitching and bandaging, all he could do was wait. Sit and wait for Geralt to wake up. He felt anxious and tired at the same time. Excess energy thrummed through him while his limbs felt heavy like lead.
He looked at his lute, but felt no compulsion to play it. He should probably eat, but any food would probably taste like ash in his mouth.
He laid back on his bedroll and tried to relax. He would be no use to Geralt when he woke up, if he was keyed up and anxious. He sighed and stretched out, his arms pillowed beneath his head as he stared up at the sky.
The stars were bright, twinkling spots of light speckling the inky sky. It made the world feel big, and made him feel small. He was but a small speck in the grand scheme of things. He glanced over at Geralt and felt a smile cross his face. Geralt was more beautiful than all the stars in the sky and twice as bright. The stars were just old light.
--------------------
Jaskier was woken up by Geralt sitting down on the edge of his bedroll. He didn't even remember falling asleep. Geralt was slow to sit down as he leaned against Jaskier’s legs, his injuries taking a toll. Jaskier wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if it was more than usual. Was Geralt human now? Did his witcher healing at least do its part before Jaskier cut his hair?
He was pulled out of his spiral when Geralt spoke. “Your hair’s red.” Geralt said in a slur.
“What?” Jaskier asked, scandalized and afraid. Of course of all things Geralt was focusing on his hair, oh the irony. Jaskier also had the thought that somehow Geralt was seeing the blood in his hair from when he ran his hands through it earlier.
“In the light, looks red,” Geralt mumbled. “You’re beautiful.”
“Oh, Geralt.” Jaskier sobbed. In the light of the fire—that he somehow managed to keep burning—his hair looked red. He buried his head in his hands, still curled up on his bedroll. He felt his tears plastering his hands to his face. He couldn’t look at Geralt. He couldn’t face his honey-golden eyes, full of softness that betrayed his hard edges.
He essentially killed the man he loved. Maybe that was a bit dramatic. But Geralt is, well was a witcher. Jaskier just took that away from him when he chopped all of his hair off. His beautiful silver hair. Jaskier knew that Geralt was more than his hair, he almost cried when Geralt admitted that he loved when Jaskier told him all the things he loved about him and his hair wasn’t near the top of the list.
Geralt leaned more heavily into Jaskier and sighed. Jaskier removed his hands from his face and looked up at the love of his life, his greatest downfall. He stifled another sob that threatened to come out and looked at Geralt.
“My head hurts.” Geralt said in a small voice that was out of character for him. He sounded so vulnerable.
“You had, well have, a head wound. It was bad. Oh Geralt it was so bad. There was so much blood. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You saved me.”
“But at what cost, my love?”
Geralt didn’t answer his question. He just said, “My hair’s gone isn’t it.”
Jaskier sat up and wrapped his arms around Geralt, situating himself behind him so Geralt was in the vee of his legs, still on Jaskier’s bedroll, Geralt’s abandoned a few feet away.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered wetly into Geralt’s shoulder, lightly trailing his fingers down Geralt’s arm.
“You did good, Jask.”
“Don’t tell me that. How can you say that? I took it. I took your strength. I took it all. I-I, I hurt you.”
“No, the monster hurt me, you saved me.”
“Are you even a witcher anymore? Can you tell? If I took that away from you, I-”
“I never wanted to be a witcher, Jask,” Geralt said as he leaned his head back against Jaskier. He let out a slight hiss of pain and Jaskier felt a hand was squeezing his heart at the sound.
“I’m sorry. I am. But I had to save you. I couldn’t watch you bleed out. It was the only way.”
“You did alright, Jaskier.” He paused. “Wanna see you, help me turn around.”
Jaskier sucked in a breath. He knew he would have to meet Geralt’s eyes eventually. He helped Geralt turn around in his arms and supported most of his weight as he leaned into Jaskier. He looked into Jaskier’s eyes and Jaskier looked back. He looked into those honey-gold eyes and he felt settled. Geralt wasn’t mad. Jaskier took in Geralt’s face. It was clean, Jaskier had made sure of that. And his hair, of course, was short. Silver strands cropped close to his scalp, uneven in a few—well many—places. The bandages wrapped around the crown of his head. He was beautiful.
Geralt kissed Jaskier then. And Jaskier kissed back. Geralt kept kissing him. Soft, gentle kisses. Comforting kisses. They laid down on Jaskier’s bedroll, Jaskier pulling Geralt’s body on top of his own so he could support him, so his head wouldn’t touch the ground. Geralt insisted on kissing him more. He kissed him until the morning light broke through the trees of the forest surrounding them in golden light.
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cummingforkylo · 3 years
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The Prince Of Alderaan Chapter II
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Chapter Summary: Lady Whistledown’s latest papers leaves you quite indignant and unsure of your next steps. Hyde Park is beautiful at this time of year but when you venture out with your Mama, you have anything but flowers in mind. 
Chapter One | Read On AO3 | Send me a Ko-fi
Rating: Explicit...eventually
Word Count: 5,309
Warning: None as of now
Pairing: Kylo Ren x reader
Notes: Okay, Okay, I KNOW if you’ve seen Bridgerton you know that I pretty much took this one key element from the storyline but I promise i’m going to do it differently.This story is inspired by the netflix show/book series Bridgerton. It’s kind of a crossover because I do use some themes and characters from the show but it is mostly a Kylo x Reader fic. Remember: historical accuracy is not the goal!<3 
Dearest Lords and Ladies of London,
After the first event of the season last night I’m sure we are all wondering what scandal or excitement awaits our hungry appetite! This writer has heard from her sources that while the ball seemed to be laden with the typical talk(Miss Philippa Featherington danced with no one, Lady Browning indulged far too much in champagne and had to be removed from the party by her son, Lord Linfield was rejected by countless ladies for a dance…despite his sizable fortune-perhaps it is the lingering oder of cabbages and onions that accompanies him wherever he goes) there was one bit of excitement that stood far above the other more typical anecdotes. The most scandalous young lady of this season so far, Miss Huntington, seems to have caught the eye of the most coveted (and reluctant) bachelor of the season, the Prince of Alderaan.
Prince Kylo Ren of Alderaan spent much of the evening avoiding the dance floor and was seen to scurry away from many very suitable young ladies including Miss Bridgerton-Queen Charlotte’s choice of the season. While he resisted strongly(and some might even have called his actions rude) most of the young ladies he encountered he seemed to be unable to keep himself away from Miss Huntington. Miss Huntington, still fresh off of her family’s embarrassing gambling scandal last year did not do herself any favors at the Danbury Ball. She danced with a number of men who would have been perfectly adequate for her, but she seemed to have had nothing but contempt for them. Showing no more interest in them then a horse shows a fly and this mare perhaps should not be brushing flies away too quickly, no matter how much their buzz annoys her.
But perhaps the Prince sees something in Miss Huntington that society as a whole does not, because after ignoring the Queen’s choice of the season all night, the Prince and Miss Huntington came together for, by all accounts, a most heated dance.  I will be interested to see if Miss Huntington has a royal caller today and what that could mean for her prospects later on. Perhaps the Queen has chosen the wrong girl for the diamond of the season this year, perhaps we have all put our eggs in the wrong basket. But—perhaps not. Only time(and this writer) will reveal.
Yours most sincerely,
Lady Whistledown
“Contempt?” You gasped as you paced back and forth in front of the piano in your sitting room. Mama was sitting in front of a table holding the latest Lady Whistledown, a quickly cooling cup of tea completely forgotten sat on the table in front of her. “I didn’t show any of those men contempt! I was perfectly polite, Mama!” You complained. You were affronted to hear what that wretched Whistledown had written of you, written of you and the Prince.
“I understand that, but the members of the ton might not now that they’ve read this.” Mama sighed. Nerves clenched at your stomach, how could your status seemed to have gotten lower since the Danbury Ball? “Not all of what she wrote of you was terrible, dearest.” Mama said, trying to perk up. She set the paper down next to her tea on the table. “Don’t you agree, Ella?” she continued, looking to your lady’s maid who stood nearby.
“Oh, yes, not all of it was-“
“She compared me to a horse.” You said, turning around to face the two of them, frustration and irritation plain on your face. Ella’s face dropped and she nodded, looking away. “Sorry, Ella. I do not mean to take my own frustrations out on you.” You said.
“She did mention the Prince being taken with you-“
“Yes, what was the word she used to describe our dance?” You asked, “Oh yes, heated. That’s a scandalous word if ever I’ve heard one.” You said. You strode over to the table and picked up the copy of Lady Whistledown Society Papers that now sat on the table beside your Mama. You found yourself wanting to rip it into a million pieces, that of course would not be a proper display, even just in front of your mother and lady’s maid.
Your Mama reached out and took your hand, running her thumb along the backside of  it in a comforting way that only a Mama knew how to do. You looked down at her and found yourself for what felt like the millionth time, wishing things were different. Wishing things had not exploded for your family last year. How much easier would life currently be if your father had not indebted himself to so many people, not made a mockery of your lives? You tried to brush away the thought but anger pulsed through you. A most unlady-like feeling, anger. It caused you to think of actions you wanted to take but never could, words you wanted to speak but never would allow yourself to. It made you long even more for a different world wherein you could do and say those things. And longing wasn’t ladylike either.
“Dearest, she also compared you to Daphne Bridgerton and said the Queen herself may have been wrong in her choice. That the whole ton might have been wrong in thinking the diamond of the season was Miss Bridgerton, and she means that it could be you.” As your Mama spoke a whole knew vista of opportunities, and chances seemed to open up before you. You could, no, you had to prove this true. That you were more eligible, more likable and just…more than anyone else. The Prince could call on you and he could court you, and ask for your hand and marry you. Then all this worry, all this anger and pain and scandal would be for naught. It would be forgotten about because you will have made the match of the season. Even if he was rude, cruel and you became irritated at the mere memory of his mocking voice, you would still become a Princess when you married him and that was exactly what your family needed. Yes, that was the goal and you were heartened by it.
“My guess is you will have quite a lot of callers today, suitors ready to vy for your hand.” Mama said and you smiled because you really did agree with her.
*
Your mood dissolved as the day went on, you spent the entire day in the sitting room awaiting on callers. You paced, and no one called. You sat on the sofa and tried to read, and no one called. You  played piano and no flowers or gifts arrived. You talked to Ella about other things to try and distract yourself and no one called. You picked out fabric for your next dress from the swatches the Modiste had sent and no one called. Not one suitor. You had been so  convinced that the Prince would call, or at least send flowers that in the afternoon when there was a knock at the sitting room door you were sure it was the Butler there to tell you that he was there but instead the door opened and your eldest brother walked in with his wife and your niece and nephew close behind. Matthew was jovial as he greeted you and your Mama,
“Did you read Lady Whistledown today? That woman has a knack for writing compelling stories does she not?” He asked as he grabbed a biscuit and sank down at the table. His wife, Rose sat down next to you at the piano as the children ran about already causing havoc. You rolled your eyes, had they not read the same thing this morning? Why would he think it compelling?
“She compared me to a horse, Matthew.” You found yourself saying once again, turning to look at your elder brother who attempted and failed to hide a smile.
“I told him not to bring up Lady Whistledown.” Rose sighed, reaching over to take your hand in the sweet and gentle way that she did.
“Ella, can you call down to the kitchens for more tea, please?” Mama said, looking to Ella who said,
“Of course, Ma’am.” She curtsied and left them. Matthew watched her go from the room, and leaned back against his chair.
“She may have made a few brash statements, my dear sister but she also reminded everyone that their choice of Daphne Bridgerton for the diamond of the season could be false and it could be you.” Matthew said, delicately selecting another biscuit from the tray in front of him.
“That is precisely what I pointed out out to your sister earlier.” Your mama said approvingly glancing from Matthew to you over her teacup.
“That was before absolutely no suitors came to call this morning,” You reminded your mother, irritation coloring your voice once again.
Your nephew sped past the table his father was at, grabbing a biscuit as he went.
“Simon, where on earth are your manners?” Rose asked. Simon stuck his tongue out at his mother and continued his game of chasing his sister around the couch with the biscuit in his mouth.
“You had no suitors this morning? None at all?” Matthew asked, and the shock in his voice made you want to shrivel up and die. It was unfair, unfair that Matthew was there to bare witness to  your suffering, unfair that he should be here with his happy wife and children watching you fail at your only duty in life. Your mama shook her head to answer for you because you were looking anywhere but at your elder brother. Rose squeezed your hand and your chest flooded with sudden emotion. The tiniest gesture made you feel as though you were not alone. Had she once felt like this? Had she too wondered if anyone would want her? Had she wondered if she would amount to anything more than the hated title of ‘spinster’? No, Matthew had been there from the start, he had been interested and active in seeking her out.
Matthew was  frowning as if in thought, “Does father know?” he asked, trying now to hide some of his shock by asking pointless questions. Of course Father didn’t know, Father wasn’t home, how would he know? Mama answered in a more polite fashion than you would have,
“Not yet,” She said.
“Hm. Well. There is still time.” He said shot you a quick smile, perhaps you weren’t entirely useless. Your mood did not improve, even when you retreated to your room to get dressed for walking in Hyde park. You knew you could not get discouraged. You knew you had to prove yourself as the best. Lady Whistledown might have helped along the No Suitors Situation but she herself had also said you could be the rightful Diamond of the Season and not Daphne Bridgerton. Everyone had already said this to you today and now you had to remind yourself. You had to convince yourself because it would take that confidence to pull it off. As Ella helped you dress you found your mind floating back to the night before, at the Danbury Ball and how flat every dance had felt, every look between you and a man had had no significance, every touch was dull and expected. It had all been nothing. All except one—the Prince. The rude, cruel, infuriating Prince Ren who had called you improper, even though he had been the one staring at you. Kylo Ren, who had…touched your skin. Your heart pounded at the mere memory of his fingers grazing against your back. It made you ashamed but not nearly as much as it should have, because it also was the only memory from the Danbury Ball that exhilarated you. He had sought you out, and you alone, it had to have meant something. And yet when he danced with you it seemed as though all he wanted from it was to humiliate you. You wished it wasn’t possible. You wished it hadn’t worked. And you very much wished you still weren’t thinking about it.
***
Your thoughts of Prince Kylo Ren didn’t abate when you left your house for the short carriage ride to Hyde Park. You were still thinking about him as you strolled along the walking paths with your Mama and your Lady’s maids. You were trying to work out what exactly he had meant by his behavior, why choose you to be the only young lady he danced with and then be nothing but rude to you? Perhaps he did not think himself rude? Perhaps he just spoke his mind very bluntly. You considered this as the best option for a while, barely noticing where your feet were carrying you as you walked alongside your Mama. But a memory resurfaced from that night, that made it very clear to you that this could not be the case. It was the memory of the smirk that seemed to hang even in his voice as he said, “You stared at me, my lady.” Your insides twisted at it. That and the way his eyes burned. He knew precisely what he was doing, he knew he was trying to humiliate you, trying to make you feel as if you had done something wrong. “How improper,” those words sent a spark through your body, something akin to anger and embarrassment. His voice had been dark and intense, your mind was absorbed in it…accompanied with the feeling of his gloved fingers against the bare skin of your back. It wasn’t the correct place for him to place his hand while leading a dance, it was slightly too high. Yet, he had done it. Accidentally? It must have been. He just had not been used to dancing with someone quite that much shorter than him, perhaps. Those fingers blazed through your memory, leaving little room for anything else in your brain. You could imagine his fingers there again as you looked out across the Serpentine River, which was little more than a shallow man-made pond that cut through this section of Hyde Park.
Your mind was so wrapped up in the feeling of those fingers, and the burn in his eyes that it took you far too long to notice you were staring directly at the real thing. It took your mother taking your arm and hissing in your ear,
“Staring at the Prince is not very lady-like.” She squeezed your arm and you blinked. She, of course, was right. Across the lake, the prince was standing arm in arm with the Queen Regent of Alderaan, his mother. Someone he had not been seen with years. As you took him in you realized he had not noticed you yet,  you should look away, being caught staring at him yet again would surely end in more humiliation. He paused in his walk with his mother, his expression was irritated, lips tight, body stiff and upright as she spoke to him. His eyes flicked up and you were very suddenly caught in his gaze. Caught wasn’t quite the right word to describe it, trapped was probably more accurate. A shiver ran up your spine, it was that same blazing glance, a whisper of the memory of a hand on your skin. You watched as humor suddenly joined the irritation on his face, recoloring it. He turned to look at his mother, spoke and then pulled his arm away from her. He began to walk to the foot bridge nearby. She called something after him but he ignored her, she turned to her Lady’s maid who was standing nearby but your eyes were following his Grace as he walked over the bridge.
“The Prince is headed in this direction,” Mama hissed to you quite unnecessarily. You were about to hiss back that you knew but you started to feel not only his eyes on you, but many eyes on you. Everyone who had gone for a late afternoon stroll through Hyde Park seemed to be looking at you.  All because Prince Kylo was stepping off the foot bridge and striding over towards you. You found yourself having the insane desire to run away. Perhaps it was because you couldn’t face him after he had caught you staring, or perhaps it was because of your disastrous dance at the Danbury Ball…or perhaps it was because of the persistent and scorching thoughts of his hand in yours, his fingers on your back. You wanted to hide from all of that and hide from his gaze but he walked up to you a moment later and inclined his head respectfully,
“Miss Huntington,” He said and then he turned slightly towards your Mama. “Lady Huntington,” He said.
“Your Grace,” Your Mama said, dropping to a curtsey. When you finally remembered how to move, and curtsied as well.
“Your Grace,” You mimicked your mother.
“What a pleasant thing, to meet you here.” Mama said, smiling almost adoringly up at Kylo. “Were you escorting your mother?” She asked. Something shifted slightly in his face, the subtle shift was enough to make his face go from mildly polite to the beginnings of irritation.
“Yes.” He said. “But I happened to see Miss Huntington across the Serpentine and thought she looked as though she could use a companion this afternoon.” He said. He offered his arm to you. You didn’t move. You were unsure if you should take it, unsure if you even wanted to take it. You knew you should and something inside of you did long for it, longed for his gloved hand in yours so that you could again revel in the memory of it against your bare back. Shock swept through you  at your own thoughts, and with that shock was the realization that the prince had his arm held out to you still, “Would you care to walk with me, Miss Huntington?” He asked. You took the proffered arm as gracefully as you could manage while you still recovered from your own thoughts and the longing that still drove you to consider his hand at such length.
“Yes, of course, Your Grace.” You said. You watched him give your mother a tight smile and nod, before he turned you away form her and began walking.
It was quiet except for the sound of your steps as you walked along the Serpentine, you listened to his heavy footfalls and your lighter ones keeping pace. Was he going to mention the rude things he had said when you had last spoke? Should you bring them up? You were about to ask him if he planned on insulting you again on your walk when he spoke,
“I thought you might have learned your lesson about staring the last time we met.” He spoke casually as though he wasn’t attempting to wound your pride. “That does not seem to be the case.” He said. You looked about, wondering if anyone was within earshot, but no, Mama and her Lady’s maid were the closest people to the both of you and she was at least twenty yards back.
“First of all, Your Grace, I did not realize I was looking at you this afternoon.” You said, turning to look up at him. He was so much bigger than you that it felt as though you had to lean back to see his face. “Secondly, I maintain that the last time we met, I was only looking at you because I had caught you looking at me.” You insisted, and again the memory of that evening filtered into your head. The way you had felt his eyes upon you and how you looked back with curiosity.
“Hm.” Was his answer, and for a long moment it seemed as though he was going to leave it at that, then he spoke with no humor in his voice, “You presume to know better than I?” He asked. Your body felt tight and if you had not been holding on to his arm, your hands would have been shaking. Was it just because he was a prince that he was this intimidating or was it more? No, it had to be more, there was something about him that screamed at you to be nervous, to be afraid. You had to take a deep breath before you spoke to him again,
“I presume to know when I am being looked at across a ballroom, Your Grace.” You said, turning your face away from him so you looked forward at the path in front of you instead.
“Do you know so acutely what that feels like?” He asked, you felt his eyes on you again, that intense gaze that had burned into your across the ballroom at the Danbury estate. He was mocking you again, because he knew you did not know what it felt like.  You swallowed and your eyes flicked up to him and then away again as you tried to recover.
“Perhaps not, but I knew I could sense your gaze.” You insisted.
“Perhaps I could sense yours.” He said.
“That’s impossible because I was not looking at you yet.” Your voice was colored with anger now and you wished you could take back the words, your frustration only seemed to spur him on.
“I think you might have been.”
“I was not.”
“Says who?”
“Me.” You almost ripped your arm away from him but you knew deep down that you could not. Not only was it impossible because you knew it would cause a scandalous scene but you could not because your body would not allow you to pull away from him. It felt like you were glued to his side.
“You seem unreliable to me,” His voice was humorless, irritated at your refusal to accept his version of events. You walked in silence next to him, not wanting to give him more fuel to flame his suspicions that you were an unreliable source, or a hot tempered girl. “Did you have many callers this morning?” You were so surprised by the question that you stopped walking, or you tried to because with your arm in his he simply towed you along with him.
“Excuse me?” You asked, breathless. It wasn’t an entirely unreasonable question for a friend to ask but you would not consider him a friend or even a potential suitor at this point. He had made it quite clear that he thought of you as nothing but an improper, unreliable, little girl.
“Lady Whistledown wrote that you might surprise everyone by making the match of the season,” He explained as he continued to tow you along with him. You turned your head to gaze up at him again, he was shocking in so many ways. Not only did he follow no real social protocols, but he spoke his mind and was too handsome to be reasonable. You wished you did not think it true, but as you looked at him you couldn’t help but notice again every pleasant thing about his face. Full lips, dark eyes with their fire-gaze, straight nose, and skin that was kissed with beauty spots in all sorts of delicate places. You blinked a few times, trying to beat back all the feelings that rose with appreciating his beauty,
“You read Lady Whistledown?” You asked, hating how stupid you sounded.
“Doesn’t everyone?” he asked. Your brow knit, you didn’t like being reminded of that fact. It must have shown on your face because he raised an eyebrow and his lip twitched towards a sardonic smirk, “I thought you would appreciate most of the things she wrote of you, Miss Huntington.” He observed. The idea that you would appreciate the things she wrote of you, of your family irritated you more than anything else he could have said. You let out a long, slow breath, trying to not let the anger towards Lady Whistledown effect the way you spoke to him. You were about to answer when he continued, cutting you off yet again, “You should appreciate that she’s willing to speak of you at all,” The frank way he put that boiled your blood and again you found yourself wanting to rip from his arm and march off but your body betrayed you once again and you remained stuck next to him.
“She…I can’t believe- that woman…she compared me to a HORSE!” You exclaimed, your voice dripping with contempt as you tried to not speak too loudly. Kylo frowned in thought a moment,
“I had not recalled that.” He said easily ignoring your fuming. “So, did you have callers this morning?” he asked again. You felt deflated, you had been so angry only seconds before and it was like it had been a soap bubble that he had burst. You swallowed and forced your eyes down, away from him. You felt your cheeks burn and you hoped your embarrassment didn’t show too much,
“No.” You said in the most dignified voice you could manage, lifting your chin. You weren’t sure why you were telling him the truth, but lying about it made it seem more shameful.
“No?” He confirmed, sounding surprised.
“No.” You said again, “No callers, no flowers, nothing.” He had walked you down the Serpentine to the next footbridge and now you were beginning to cross it. As you reached the middle of the bridge he stopped and looked down towards the water, you paused and stood on your tiptoes to look over the railing on the bridge as well, there was nothing but shallow dirty water below. Nothing of interest, but it was a good way to avoid his gaze.
“That surprises me. You danced with others at the Danbury ball I presume?” He asked.
“Yes,” You finally did look back towards him and again were struck by his handsome face. Your heart started to thrum faster in your chest. “I did think that perhaps you would call,” You admitted in a rush. The silence that fell seemed like the longest silence in your life. You wished you had not said anything. The words hung in the air and you wished they were physical so you could grab them and press them back inside of you, into your chest where he could no longer know them.
“Why would I call on you?” It was the emphasis on ‘you’ that hurt more than the sentiment itself. You let out the breath you had been holding and tried to replace the hurt with the frustration you had felt towards him earlier.
“I was the only young lady you danced with at the Ball,” You said, “And now you’re standing here, walking with me and asking if I had any callers. Forgive me, for thinking that might mean some form of interest, Your Grace.” You said.
“I am not interested, Miss Huntington.” He said so easily that you felt that same hurt as before. Why was he here then? Why was he walking with you now when you could have been walking with someone who was truly interested. Perhaps it was rude but at the moment you didn’t care,
“Why are you here then?” You demanded, you were finally able to pull your arm away from him now. “If you want so little to do with me, why walk with me?” You placed both hands on the railing of the bridge and turned fully towards the water once again. You tried to even your breathing, it was unbecoming to be gasping for breath even if it did feel like you had been kicked in the stomach.
“To irritate my mother,” He answered. Now it was easy to replace the hurt with anger, he was using you for his familial issues and it was at the expense of the rest of your life. How were you to have any suitors if he took up all your time with stupid walks that were only to his benefit.
You turned slowly towards him, feeling like anger was swelling up inside of you like the soap bubble from before, only you doubted it would be as easy to burst this time.
“To irritate your mother?” You asked, your voice dangerous and quiet. He was unapologetic. “How dare you? You think just because you’re some…some Prince that you can use me however you would like for your petty problems with your mother?” You gasped out, you were shaking now. Your whole body was responding to the indignity of what he was doing to you. His face darkened slightly and he stepped towards you, towering above you. Anyone watching might have mistaken this for something romantic if it hadn’t been for the loathing that was apparent on your face.
“You speak to a Prince like this?” he growled.
“When this Prince has acted anything but gentlemanly and has insulted me repeatedly-“
“Even when what I’m doing will help you in the long run as well?” He asked, his voice lowering even more.
“-by blatantly disrespecting me and my—what?” You pulled up short when he asked you that. “How on earth could this help me?” You paused, and then added with as much sarcasm as you could muster, “Your Grace.”
“Have you not noticed how many men have been watching you since I took your arm for this walk?” He hissed, leaning down closer to you. You could smell him now, and his scent with the overwhelming power of that dark gaze was enough to make you lose your breath for a moment.
“I-What?” You asked again, hurriedly looking around towards the other groups of people in the park.
“Don’t look now, stupid girl.” He growled. “Yes, my interest in you has piqued the interest of quite a few other men. You need suitors. I need my mother to stop pushing for me to marry…and I also need some peace from the idiotic Mama’s who push their daughters on me at every event I attend.” He said.
“I…I don’t understand.” You said softly, but you were beginning to, you remembered the way you had felt eyes on you when he had first come over to you. It hadn’t just been the eyes of gossiping old ladies, no, it had been the watchful daresay jealous eyes of men. He was proposing something to you, not something you would have thought of…but something almost as helpful.
“If you and I are seen together…seen as an item. Seen as if we were courting, you would become the most appealing girl in the ton. You would also become a challenge and men love nothing more than a challenge.” He said.
“And you…”
“Well, I would get exactly what I want as well-“ His eyes flicked to the other side of the river and down back where they had come where his mother was still walking with her Lady’s maid. You felt as though your heart would beat out of your chest, if he was right, if this worked it could very well get you a match by the end of the season.
“Do you think it would work?” You asked.
“If Lady Whistledown believes it. The whole ton will follow.” He said. “You just need to stop making scene of us in public.” He said. “Now take my arm again,” He instructed. “And walk back with me.”
You did as he said, hoping against hope he was right. He had to be right, your future was relying on it. You had to maintain that you were courting, you had to maintain it realistically and you had to do it while not thinking too much about his hand grazing your skin or the way his fire-gaze scorched your insides, burning excitement into your veins.
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makowo · 3 years
Text
Forever Deep Below Creation
This is still a work in progress, but due to my lack of posted writing in the past 3 months, I thought I'd give a sneak peek at the beginning of the fic.
Warnings: None
Characters: Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyoko
Relationships: Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto
Words: 3k
It’s another warm night in the woods. Cicadas cast their calls to the air, and while some creatures tuck into their nests and dens, others rise to greet the darkened sky. Wing and hooves and fingers and claws grazing the sky, Brushing against the stars and cupping the face of the moon.
And here Makoto is, prepping dinner in the cottage he calls a home. His home. Their home.
He pulls out a knife from the block by the counter just as he hears the front door’s lock click. He can almost feel the burst of warm night air flooding their living room, though it is little to the warmth of the stove as it works to bring water to a boil.
He blinks, dropping his focus to turn towards his wife with a grin. “Welcome home honey!”
“Honey?” Kyoko echos, placing her bag on the coffee table. She leaves her holstered gun beside it, walking into the kitchen to check on him. “It’s unusual for you to use pet names.”
“Only if I wanna tease you.” He chuckles, and she does it right back. “Unless you prefer stuff like “babe” or “sweetheart”?”
Arms wrap around his waist, Kyoko resting her chin on his shoulder. “What’s for dinner tonight?”
She avoids the question, and he saves that tidbit of info for later. Avoidance is not a no, after all. “Yakisoba.” He nudges the noodles around with a spoon, half-focused on it as he leans back against his wife. “Thought it might be good to have something quick tonight, y’know?”
Kyoko merely hums, burying her face into the crook of his neck. “Shouldn’t you turn up the AC? You’re cold.”
“Means I can cuddle up to you to stay warm tonight though.”
“As if I’ll let you do that.” She scoffs. He can feel her smile against his skin.
“Ohh?” He goes through the motions of prepping their dinner, Kyoko stumbling along with his hasty steps with a steadfast grip. “And how are you gonna stop it?” Even if they’re on opposite ends of the bed, they always wake up with one clinging to the other. Hard not to cuddle.
She takes a minute to ruminate on it, before managing an answer. “Heater. Right between us.”
Makoto laughs. “Won’t that burn?”
“If it keeps your ice hands from touching me at 2 in the morning, then ‘m fine.”
His whine of objection couldn’t be more fake. “That’s mean.” He quickly nabs the pair of bowls set aside early on, tracing the grooves of their rims with his thumbs as he sets them out side by side. “You’re mean.”
Finally, he’s released from his lavender-scented prison as Kyoko reaches for one of the bowls, unsubtly nudging him in an attempt to get him out of the way. He stays still however, nudging her right back. “It’s still hot, Kiri-san! Gotta let it sit for a bit.” He warns with a frown.
“It can sit for a bit in my bowl.” She replies deadpan, still urging him away. And he relents, because it isn’t that big of a deal anyway but he doesn’t want to watch Kyoko burn her mouth while trying to eat again. Or just forget about it while she works.
“Then eat with me in the living room.” Makoto grabs his own bowl, getting what yakisoba she leaves behind in the pan. “And after it, we go straight to bed.” He’s not risking his work going to waste, after all.
Even with these tough terms he’s set up, Kyoko lazily nods, most likely due to still suffering from sleep deprivation. Maybe she’ll decline when she’s woken up a bit, maybe she won’t. Makoto decides to settle down on the couch and put on a movie that might distract her from it anyway.
It’s more background noise than anything, though; something about an escape room? Pretty sure he put on a sequel movie too, which turns their interest only to one another. Not that he minds.
“Would you like to go on a trip sometime in the next month?”
“Mmh, yeah?” He replies through a mouthful of food, quickly swallowing it before continuing. “What case has you going out of the country this time?” It’s not odd for Kyoko to ask if he wants to travel with her if she knows it’ll take too long for Makoto to bear.
She shakes her head, taking a bite of her food before answering. “I mean as a vacation, actually?” She replies with a tone implying that she’s questioning her own words already.
“Vacation?” He can’t help but echo, because… well, Kyoko never takes vacations! He can imagine she has a lot of days saved up because of that, but it never seems like she plans to put them to use other than for emergencies. Guess he read her wrong on that part, even if this is the first time she’s planning a legitimate vacation herself in the four years she’s been working as a detective again.
“Is it a bad time?”
“No, no!” Makoto shakes his head, not daring to let this slip by. “I’d love a vacation! It’d be nice to get out of the house.” He doesn’t really have much going on anyway, since the whole school idea didn’t really pan out. He’s just a stay at home husband now, and since Kyoko still makes enough money to support them both, he’s not actively seeking a job right now. Thus, he’s perfectly free.
Kyoko smiles. “Good. I’ve made sure to go ahead and clear up a week for ourselves, but I need to know what you might want to do.” She glances at him curiously, before quickly adding on. “Preferably not something that’s outside of Japan, I’d have trouble paying for that right now.”
Well that’s a no brainer for him, but it does narrow down his options significantly, which he happens to be thankful for. “Do you have anything in mind?” For a fleeting moment, Makoto recalls his dinner, taking a bite of it before he looks away from it and thus forgets it even exists. “I’m gonna be honest, I don’t really have anything in mind…” Never been one to aspire for once-in-a-lifetime thrills, like skydiving or something. He’d be happy just lounging at home the whole week, despite his earlier comment.
“I thought we could go to a nearby city then, and go sight-seeing.” Kyoko spares a glance towards the movie playing, before interest in it is once again immediately lost “Maybe in Seoul? There’s a large cave system there as well, and they’re open to caving this time of year.”
“Hm?” Makoto tries to recall what exactly that is, but he’s drawing blanks. “What’s that?”
“Well, Seoul is-”
“I know what Seoul is.” Makoto deadpans, though completely understands why she thought that was what he was talking about. He’s not the most educated person, what with the whole memory loss thing. “”I mean caving! I’ve never, uh, heard of that.”
“Ah.” Kyoko nods, setting down her bowl on the coffee table. “Apologies. It is rather self-explanatory however; we just go and explore a cave system with a small group.” She shrugs, stifling a yawn. “I thought it might be fun to do something like that together. It’s rare for a person to do, wouldn’t be too dangerous, and we’d be together the whole time.”
That does sound pretty cool, he’ll admit. He’s never really gone into a cave before, if he excludes the ones that they’d have to hide in during… ah, well, it’d just be nice. Doing something kind of thrilling. He imagines it’s thrilling, at least.
“I think it’d be fun!” He finally chirps, leaning over to rest his head on Kyoko’s shoulder. “It’s been a while since we’ve done something together, I’m sure it’d be a good time for us both.” And he’s pretty sure they don’t have any trauma tied to caves, which is a definite plus! Unless they count claustrophobia? Neither of them have shown signs of that though, so they’ll hopefully be fine. Hopefully.
As if she were able to sense his worry (which he doesn’t doubt that she can), Kyoko places a hand on his leg, stopping its worried bouncing. He hadn’t even noticed it doing that. “Are you sure?” She asks lightly, brow furrowed with worry. “”It can be dangerous, you know. There’s only so much a tour guide can do to make naturally made caves safe to enter.”
Makoto frowns, now actually worried. “Then why would you recommend it?” He asks, very quietly.
Kyoko takes a while to respond. In fact, she doesn’t respond until she’s actually finished her dinner, as well as his. It was getting cold so he may as well let her have it. “Do some looking, and if you have a better idea, tell me.” And then she heads to bed, because that’s just. A perfectly fine way of ending a conversation.
Makoto trudges on after her after about an hour of thinking (mostly lack thereof, with the television being such a terribly convenient and easy distraction) on the couch. Unlike most nights though, where the room is pitch black, her back turned from the door so as to not catch the stray rays of lights that he’s forgotten to turn off, it’s… actually still pitch black in there. But after a moment of letting his eyes adjust, he catches Kyoko’s alarmingly bright gaze cutting through the gloom.
“Can’t sleep?” He mutters as he stumbles through the dark, going off of his recollection of the room’s layout, reduced to something of barely any use through the haze of sleepiness tugging at his being.
“I can.” She replies slowly, watching him not unlike how a cat would watch their owner. Not that she or their relationship in general compares to that; she just has that… “look”. Like she knows everything. “Was just waiting for you to come to bed.”
If he’s being honest, it’s kind of exciting. It’s the look she gives when her interest is upon him entirely, something that earns a flattered blush every time. “Thank you then.” He chirps, before crawling into bed like a lizard wriggling beneath the warm sands of a desert, except much less gracefully.
He almost expects nothing to happen, oddly enough. He should have known Kyoko was waiting for a reason.
A warmth presses up against his back, and a hum against his ear. “Don’t have to go in until noon tomorrow.” Kyoko huffs. He can just sense her smile when he shivers. “So… we could…” something presses between his legs, and teases just the right spot, “have some time to ourselves, maybe…?”
Makoto is a weak man, and especially weak for his wife. And thus, all he can do is scrounge up what remains of his energy, roll over, and let the franticness of their motions do the rest. ------------------------------------
It’s quite a hike to get to the cave they’ve been looking at. The route is safe, spacious, and short for the most part; it’s apparently a tour “good for beginners”, and while Makoto believes their caving adventures will begin and end with this one, it’s nice to know that this place doesn’t have any curveballs. Or spike-filled areas. Or tunnels one can only crawl through. Or maybe even fractures.
“Stop worrying.” Kyoko demands, his thoughts coming to a harsh stop. He manages not to be totally thrown off, following hastily after his wife as they trudge along a pebble-filled path.
He sighs when he catches up, glancing around. Just west there’s Tokyo, bustling with life, but it’s far enough only to serve as a backdrop to the hill-covered fields they’re in. They follow a path lined by thin ropes tied to sticks in the ground every other step, as despite the lack of actually dangerous areas nearby, there’s a lot of… well, area. The Tragedy changed a lot of the landscape, more so than most would believe.
Stopping his mind from wandering too far again, Makoto directs his attention ahead. They have a few other people with them, much more diverse in their body type than he assumes the average would be for much more difficult to traverse caves. They talk amongst themselves, all of them clearly going with someone they know for the trip. Ahead of them, the tour guides walk, though he can’t tell what they’re doing. He doubts it to be much at all, really.
“Are you excited?” He finally asks, careful not to speak loudly. He doesn’t want to draw much attention from their peers here, they’re lucky enough to have only garnered a few curious looks.
“Of course.” Kyoko replies, just as quiet. “I’m sorry it had to be delayed so much, cases just kept piling up.”
Makoto scoffs. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re able to help people.” Adjusting to keep a good hold on his backpack, he reaches over to grasp Kyoko’s hand. She’s changed her gloves today. Much rougher. “Even if it’s not another year until we get a chance like this again, I’m satisfied.”
He hopes for a smile, or the most likely quirk of the lips she gives when beyond the walls of their home. He earns neither.
“I’m not.” She tightens her grip, tugging him forwards. “Come on. We’re falling behind.”
Makoto nods, silent as he follows her up the steep incline, and silent still until they come to the entrance to the cave.
He can only think of an open maw when he sees the entrance. It sits neatly above the ground, embedded into the side of the hill’s peak, moss creeping over the exposed rock. Various plants and flowers bloom from cracks in the walls he can see, reaching out towards the sunlight beyond. But as he looks upon the entrance, the teasing glimpse it shows of its surely vast depths, he can’t help but think they’re trying to escape the dark rather than gain any sunlight.
The heat must be getting to him.
“Alright everyone!” One of the guides chirps, clapping their hands to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s do a quick check to make sure everyone has what they need!”
Makoto remembers all their supplies, and part of him knows that he has everything, but anxiety urges him to check once more. Plus, he needs to actually put some of it on now. That too.
He crouches down and pulls his backpack around, trying not to focus on the cave. Instead, he mentally lists off each item as he finds it; helmet, gloves, boots, first aid kit, and a flashlight. Not much really, and he’s more than happy about that fact.
Makoto sighs, putting on each item he needs and putting away the rest. He’s careful about the gloves in particular as he puts them on; the helmet may have a light that could break if he’s not cautious, but Kyoko picked these out for him specifically before this trip. She has very strong opinions about them, and apparently these are the best pair for this sort of task that she could find. And they must be, they’re very comfortable! A perfect fit even, despite the fact that she gave them to him on the way here without any warning. He can’t imagine what they must have cost.
After checking for his caving suit and quickly realizing that he already put it on before making this trek, Makoto shoves his old shoes and socks into the back, hopping back up just as everyone else seems to be handed something.
“Now, before we head in, I want you all to get a good look at this map.” The guide says as they hand a sheet of paper to each group. “Even if this is a short trip, and we know this place like the backs of our hands, there’s a few turns here and there!”
Kyoko takes the map they’re given, Makoto peering at it from over her shoulder, having to crane his neck to get a good look. It doesn’t seem like too much, thankfully; there’s a meander or two, but none on the main path, thank the gods. He’d prefer not to have to do any crawling during this!
“It’s a straight shot, huh?” He comments absentmindedly, resting his chin on his wife’s shoulder.
She merely huffs, reaching back to thread her fingers through his hair. Despite the unsatisfying feeling of the gloves she’s wearing right now, he eagerly leans into the touch. “Yes. I’ve seen pictures of the cave as well, and it appears to not be very dangerous, unless one was actually being reckless. Should take about twenty minutes, at most.”
Makoto grins, wrapping his arms around Kyoko’s waist. She makes another sound, something like a noncommittal grunt, but doesn’t nudge him away as he expects. It’s nice. “And after this we go eat at Stellar Cafe.”
“We ate there last week.” She quickly reminds him, paying only a partial bit of attention to what those in front of them are saying. Something about the first aid kits, nothing very important.
“Too bad.” He gives her a quick peck on the cheek. “I like their food, and the service is nice.”
He can hear her stifle a laugh as she pulls away. “You like their curry. There’s perfectly good curry elsewhere.” She reaches into her own backpack, pulling out a walkie talkie. “Now get your radio out.”
“Don’t you think this is kind of overboard?” He pulls it out anyway of course, making sure his is connected to hers. “They never recommended these for caving, at least not on the sites I looked at.” Seems that most of the time people are expected to stay together anyway, if there’s more than one person at all. He’s surprised Kyoko decided to do this.
“Can’t ever be too safe.” Is all she says, before looking to the cave. “It’s time to go.”
Makoto follows her gaze, and sees the rest of the group already clambering over rocks as they enter the hole. “Ah.” He pauses, choking on nothing for a moment so fleeting he can’t even react. “Yeah.”
If he showed any hesitation, Kyoko does not acknowledge it. Instead, she walks ahead, and with heavy steps he pretends are eager, Makoto follows her into the dark.
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and that's it! quite a bit, and definitely not the best writing in the world, but im very proud of it so far! if you can then please rb this and give your thoughts, i do this for free but there's a reason i post my fics at all, which is validation <3 basically what keeps me going and able to continue writing at all, actually.
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Prompt My Own Damn Self # :He’s Not the Guy You Marry, But He Is The Guy You [REDACTED] in the Night Club Bathroom at Two O’Clock in the Morning, Which is Also Important
Summary: Literally what it says in the title, except we find out what [REDACTED] means, which is very fun and exciting. That’s right, everybody, we’re 👏 going 👏 there 👏
Warnings: ‼️18+‼️ Extremely Explicit Sexual Content. Do NOT be uncool and read it if you’re not of age. Otherwise, there’s alcohol involved here (wow what a surprise 🙄), like one mention of drugs, and smoking. Aside from that, it’s pretty straightforward.
Genre: Mediocre Smut
Pairing: Hatter/Fem!Reader
Notes: There are two types of people in this world: people who are very attracted to the weird sexy hat guy who started a death-game pyramid scheme, and LIARS.
Real talk, though: this is pretty explicit. More explicit than I’ve gone in a very long time, so I’m a little rusty. It veers into “hate sex” territory, which was kind of fun to write, honestly. I live for the banter. (Also, the “you” character in this is kind of great? I like her.)
HEY! Just another reminder! This is 18+ so if you’re not of legal age, do yourself a solid and ditch this little thing, okay? Okay.
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
It starts with tequila shots.
Salt licked. From your wrist. His chest. The hollow of your throat.
Lime bitten. Held between your fingers. Between his teeth. Between your pushed-together breasts.
Music pulses. Lights flash. He’s got a hand on your ass. You’ve got your lips on his neck.
“Wanna go somewhere?”
“Yes.”
And he leads you, hand on the small of your back, away from the bar. People stare. You like it.
‘Somewhere’ is, apparently, a two-stall women’s restroom, tucked away in a narrow little hallway which runs to the left of the bar. A place for shooting up drugs. A place for scribbling on the walls with permanent marker.
A place for sex. Hot, sweaty, anonymous sex.
...Well, semi-anonymous, anyways. It’s impossible to live at the Beach and not know who the man in red is, the man who sells a shot at salvation for nothing more than a few playing cards.
You lean against the tastefully cream-colored counter which hosts, among other things: a sink stained pink with cheap soap; three forgotten tubes of lipstick; a small mirror, holding an abandoned credit card and two small lines of cocaine; a crumpled up hand towel; a half-finished bottle of Asahi beer; and what was probably once a wedding ring.
“Great ambiance,” you murmur flatly. The harsh light of fluoresent bulbs burn your eyes, diverting your gaze to the white floor, “Been ages since I got fucked in a classy place like this.”
“Ages?” Hatter flicks the lock on the door with a low thunk.
“Hours,” you answer, mournful tone betrayed by a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, “Had you not come along, my dry spell might’ve gone on through the morning.”
“Perish the thought.”
And he does not so much approach you as he descends upon you, mouth sucking at your collarbone and leg pushing between your thighs.
“Tell me,” he pants into you ear, breath hot and fingers deft as he unties the strings of your bikini top, “How do you want me?”
“Now,” you hiss back, “Don’t care how, just—fuck, just give it to me.”
“Then, if you would be so kind?” He holds a condom between his index and middle fingers.
In truth, you’re glad for it—you’d rather not deal with the mess after all is said and done—but there’s no way you’ll give him the satisfaction of a ‘thank you.’
“Fine,” you huff, snatching the foil square from his grasp, “Don’t suppose you have anything better to—oh!”
Hands on your hips spin you around so you’re facing the mirror. You grip the edge of the counter, knuckles straining, and watch as he reaches around to palm your breast.
“Apologies,” he makes eye contact with you in the mirror, “but I seem to have my hands full at the moment.”
And that’s when you feel fingertips slipping beneath the seam of your bikini bottoms, an insistent press against the slick of your slit.
You spit a curse and fumble with the condom, desperation setting in as his hands continued to dance across your flesh. After some moments (too many for your liking), you’re successful in your endeavor, and pass the unwrapped nuisance over your shoulder.
“Much obliged,” he thanks, removing his hands to sort himself out, “You know, I appreciate—“
“I didn’t come here to talk,” you snap. He laughs in response.
“Ooh, you’re mean!”
And he’s sliding the crotch of your swimsuit bottoms to the side, exposing only what is necessary and lining himself up—and, okay, that’s the kind of semi-impractical hotness you were looking for from this particular encounter. Your muscles clench involuntarily around nothing and you cant your hips back to get him to move it along...but nothing happens.
God, what is this guy’s problem?!
“But, I wonder,” he whispers into your ear, “are you desperate enough to say ‘please?”
Of all the guys to pull for a quick fuck, of course you get the one who’s a total tease. So smug, arrogance blooming as he presses a soft kiss to your left shoulder. There’s no way you’re giving in to this asshole, so you glare at him in the reflection of the mirror.
“Fuck you,” you spit, teeth bared and mouth formed into a malicious smile.
He shrugs his shoulders.
“Close enough.”
You both cry out when he fills you with a single, fluid thrust. And—fuck, fuck, fuck!—that is good. One of his hands curls around the jut of your hip, while the other splays across your collarbone, thumb and forefinger framing the base of your throat in a firm but gentle touch.
Otherwise, he remains still—perhaps he’s being gentlemanly and allowing you time to adjust? No, no, he’s definitely being a tease again.
Seriously, what is his goddamn deal?
Since he seems content to take his merry time, you take matters into your own hands, moving against him in a somewhat-awkward but still satisfying rhythm.
“You,” he says between heavy breaths, “seem eager.”
There’s something in his voice that seems amused, as if he finds your candor endearing. You lean forward a bit, angling your hips so his length is able to sink deeper and, oh, that’s much better.
“Want something done right,” you pant, “gotta do it yourself.”
“You don’t think I’d do it right?”
“Sweetie,” you coo with a condescending smile, “I know you wouldn’t.”
And you’re lucky that guys like him are all the same—arrogant, showy, desperate to prove their sexual prowess—because he finally (finally!) decides to get his sorry ass into gear and make something happen.
The hand that was around your neck gropes at your breasts, the cool metal of that stupid-ugly-tacky ring catching on your skin in an annoyingly tantalizing way. The other shoves its way between you and the edge of the countertop, deft fingertips circling your clitoris in a way that makes your toes curl in your sandals. You bite your lip to keep from crying out as he fucks into you, hips snapping hard but steady against the plush of your ass.
“You know, the people I fuck usually try to be nice to me,” he says, “nicer than you, anyways.”
The hand on your breast pinches your nipple, earning him a sharp gasp.
“Why be nice?” You clench around him, causing his rhythm to falter, “You’re just the means to an end.”
“And here I thought we were making love.”
Teeth scrape down the length of your neck, and fuck—you’re getting close. Your arms are shaking. Your heart is racing. You hate to admit it, but he’s good at this.
“Darling,” he growls into your ear, “I do believe you’re about to come.”
“Shut up,” you snap, trying desperately to sound cool and unaffected despite the fact that your composure is about to shatter and there is not a goddamn thing you can do about it.
“Well, go on then. After all,” he hisses, “I don’t have all night.”
What starts as anger is quickly overtaken by pleasure—white-hot and blinding, enough to make your knees shake and your eyes spring with tears. It’s exactly what you were looking for, exactly what you had been expecting from the most notorious sex fiend at this God-forsaken place.
Apparently, he must’ve come too, because he’s pulling out with a surprising tenderness—gentlemanly in one way, at least. He even makes sure to right your bikini bottoms, making sure that they’re once again covering you completely before turning his attention to himself.
“You know, I didn’t know people could glare their way through an orgasm, but you made it happen.”
“I’m a woman of many talents.”
Before you choose to look in the mirror, you fix the rest of your bathing suit with a tremble in your fingers. You can feel him watching you, and honestly, you’re not sure how you feel about that. Good, mostly, but tinged a bit orange with annoyance. You try not to think about that too much and, with a deep breath, look at your reflection.
The first thing you do to assess the damage of your little liaison is check your makeup—your eyeliner is a bit smudged, but that’s easily fixed with a few swipes of your littlest finger. Your hair, however, is another story, so you set to fixing it with a dissatisfied huff.
You hear the snick of a lighter behind you and the scent of fresh-burning nicotine hits your senses. You turn around to see him leaning against the tile wall with a cigarette between his lips and smoke curling in wisps towards the ceiling.
He raises an eyebrow when you approach him, then chuckles when you snatch the cigarette right out of his mouth and take a long, deep drag. It’s almost as good as the sex.
“You know,” he says, “I think you might be a bit in love with me after my spectacular performance.”
That makes you choke, your lungs switching from laughter to coughing and back again.
“Spectacular?” You quell your sputtering with a gulp, “You were passable. At best.”
“Careful, sweetheart. You’re getting awfully close to giving me a compliment.”
You take a step closer to him, shoulders squared, fingers ashing the cigarette onto the floor.
“Not your sweetheart,” you say, taking one last drag and blowing the smoke directly into his face. You smile when he flinches.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” you say, pressing the mostly-smoked cigarette between his lips, “I have somewhere to be.”
You turn on your heel and begin to walk away, making sure to sway your hips just so as you do. There’s no way his eyes aren’t glued to your ass, and the thought makes you smile triumphantly.
“Until next time, then,” he calls—and it’s cute that he sounds so sure that you’ll come crawling back to him.
You exit the bathroom with a self-satisfied smirk, enjoying the thought of him lighting another cigarette and trying not to chase after you.
Three days, tops. That’s how long it’ll take for him to beg.
You can’t wait.
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
also just in case you were wondering, he DID leave the sunglasses on—BUT they were on his head kinda holding his hair back because I truly believe he would do that. also the kimono has pockets and he thinks it’s very cool to carry around all his stuff in there (for example he keeps a granola bar on his person at all times because sometimes you just get hungry yknow?)
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genaleah · 3 years
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ANSWERING WILDCARD QUESTIONS
For the first time in about a year maybe??? Some of these might be even older than that.
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Yes, it is Korka! I definitely want her involved, she’s a wonderful character and there is a *lot* of fun paranormal stuff going on in this setting that she can help them research. Also, I’d just love for her and Nelson to become friends!
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Thank you! I love him a lot, and it’s fun to picture him interacting with the other guys. They’d all make for some interesting uncle figures, but they might not be that great in terms of role models.
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OHOHO. Devilish laugh. That’s a wonderful idea, and a good way to keep him occupied at some point. He’s a great character, but he’s incredibly powerful, and I want these dudes to solve their own problems whenever possible. 
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A good question! I don’t remember most of my dreams, but there’s usually a consistent look to the vivid ones. Lots of water, mountains, creeks, and high, winding roads. There are also a lot of buildings that are closely integrated with nature, even though I have almost never seen construction like that. 
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I had not, but now I have! Here’s a trailer, for anyone else that missed it:
https://youtu.be/33HXHaaagsw
I really like these new models! I’m looking forward to watching a playthrough when that’s available. Just like with Rhombus of Ruin, I don’t think I’ll be able to play this one myself.
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DOUBLE FINE, I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU- no, I’m kidding! I think great minds think alike. But I’m really excited to learn more about that character and possibly involve them in this whole au eventually. 
I’ve actually tried to avoid almost any info about Psychonauts 2 so I can go in mostly-blind, and a lot of the characters are vague to me. It’s fun to look forward to, but it’s also a little harrowing because I don’t know how to anticipate for it!
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N...NO..... I NEED TO... Honestly those are old enough that it might be a good idea for me to re-make them, as well as the playing cards I made for the mega playlist cover. I think it’d be nice to remake them as vectors... that might make for a nice art stream sometime. I’ll mention publicly if I start doing that, and sharing any of these conceptual Wildcards arts when they’re done. 
And if you’re just curious about what the tarot cards for the other characters are going to be, it’s this:
Eddie: Judgement, The Magician, The Emperor
Manny: Death, Justice, The World
Sam: The Chariot, The Tower, Strength
Max: The Devil, Wheel of Fortune, Joker
Although! I may actually give the Moon card to Max instead of the Devil, and replace the missing card from Nelson’s selection with the High Priestess?  🤔  I’ll decide when I get to it.
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Could be! I’ve flip-flopped occasionally on if I want the split-a-cab gang to participate much in the story. I think they deserve a break, and splitting an apartment in New York seems like a good situation for the four of them.
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Oh boy, that must be so disorienting for him. The Psychonauts deal with a lot of hippy-dippy weirdness in a seemingly organized way, but it seems like they’re not as paranoid about safety as a real federal organization would be. Not necessarily a good thing, considering one of their camp counselors went AWOL one day, and the head of the Psychonauts got kidnapped the next. They kinda need to get their act together.
Fun fact, in one of the earlier drafts of Chapter 3 I was actually going to make Nelson get scanned by the equivalent of a metal-detector for malevolent thoughts at the door and get really spooked by it, but I decided against it.
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YEAH IT’S ON THE LIST
Honestly, a big bulk of the plot in this just regards characters having to face their mental health struggles... via facing it as literal internal demons, unstable powers, etc.  It’s going to take a little while for any of Eddie’s teammates to realize how MUCH he has going on under the surface because he does a pretty good job of hiding it. “Needing to help others above ever helping themselves” is a hard issue to notice if you’re not looking for it. But it’s a guarantee that once they find out he needs help, they’ll give it; whether that’s making sure he’s not working himself too hard, or fighting off demonic cultists. Care comes in many forms.
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SHE NEEDS TO REST.... POOR SYBIL (on the upside, they don’t TECHNICALLY work there, so she might be fine most of the time.)
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Strong Bad isn’t a Psychonaut! He’s just a vlogger and a petty (psychic) criminal. It’s honestly not very different from canon.
Free Country, USA is a smalltown hotbed of psychic activity. Nearly everyone there has some mild capacity for supernatural powers, but nobody really notices or cares. Strong Bad just pops the tops off of cold ones and.... sometimes alters reality, a tiny bit. But mostly just in regards to media. The cartoons, comics, etc, that he invents and talks about have a tendency to suddenly voip into existence and nobody knows how. I swear, there’s actually a line of him saying something to this effect, but I can’t find it anywhere.  Don’t worry about it! Nobody in town is ever going to do anything truly nefarious with their powers, so it’s not a high priority on the Psychonauts’ radar, just a weird footnote.
The only reason Homestar is an actual agent is because he seems like exactly the kind of guy to sign up for a job like that on accident and then stick with it. And he’s a talented telekinetic! None of his other friends know about his job or notice his absences.
And just for fun, here’s some weird instances of psychic overpowering that happened in the cartoon:
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(Poor Strong Sad)
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I’ve actually answered this one before! BAM  Pretty sure all of it is still accurate.
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Nelson: He sees floating sheets of paper containing notes, questions, etc. Anything that he wants to know more about regarding that person. The notes are subject to edits, cross-outs, ripped pages, etc.
Guybrush: He sees the item that the person is carrying that he wants most. As he gets to know people better, he sees them for their useful skills first.
Manny: His view of most living people is not very kind...
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The people he’s closest to will eventually look a lot less garish. More like a flattering, camera-ready versions of themselves.
Eddie: Sickass sketch drawings that look like they belong in the margins of a composition book. The illustrations improve as he gets a better picture of where they’d fit in the internal lore of his mental world.
Sam: A lot like Nelson; Sam pictures case files, though his are a bit more in-depth.
Max: Max’s visions of people are highly personal and uncomfortable for those who witness them. He sees Nelson as a puzzle with a piece missing. Guybrush is a ripped up voodoo doll. Manny is a forgotten ofrenda. Eddie is a powder keg with a long, lit fuse. Sam is Sam, but he’s the wrong one.
I also got two questions that were pretty big subjects, or that I didn’t want to repeat, so I’m gonna cover them pretty broadly:
REGARDING [X] CHARACTER OR SERIES INCLUDED IN THE AU
Sure, I support it! I’ve gotten this question a few times in regards to things that I haven’t had time to delve into yet, or I’m not interested in, so I’m not going to include it into the AU myself. But if you want to explore an idea like that, feel free! This AU is pretty dang collaborative.
My main focus is just on the main 6 properties: Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max.
But my general rule of thumb for “characters that exist somewhere within the background of this story” are any other properties owned by Telltale, Lucasarts, or Double Fine. And considering all of the licensed games that Telltale was getting into before it kicked the bucket, that includes some really weird characters, even up to the Venture Bros. I loved that series, but I’m not really interested in doing anything with them for this story! Partly for my sanity, the canon I’ve picked are already a lot of content to play with. 
ASSORTED QUESTIONS ABOUT THE WILDCARD AU DISCORD
There’s no particular criteria needed to join the discord, and it’s not strictly on a need-to-know basis! Because it’s been a long while since anyone has joined, I've been hesitant about adding new people in... But I‘ve decided to try sending invitations again! Everyone who had asked about it in the past will be getting a ping by me in about a day or so, since I want to double-check if you’re still interested. If you’ve been nervous to ask you can reply to this post or message me privately.
Some things to keep in mind before asking or accepting the invite:
If you’re not a friend or a follower I recognize, I will likely double-check your tumblr along with some other current members before sending the invite. 
Here’s the Rules page, so you know what to expect before you join: 
Be Mindful - Respect other people's boundaries, don't do or say things that would cross the line. If your behavior makes other people feel uncomfortable or unsafe, I will remove you from the chat. In most cases I will try to resolve things with you and offer a chance to do better, but that will depend on the severity of the situation. And if you have any concerns regarding another member of the chat, you can contact me privately.
Health Boundaries - While discussions of mental health do occasionally pop up, do not rely on the chat for help. None of us are equipped to handle serious mental health concerns, and it will only cause distress for everyone. Please seek real help if it is needed! If you rely on people beyond the point that they have asked you to stop, I will remove you from the chat.
NSFW - Generally speaking, try to keep NSFW talk to a minimum. Swearing and humor is fine, but don't get too explicit please! Discussions should usually keep to a PG-13 / occasional R, but no NC-17.
Spoilers & Censorship - Please use the spoiler function to hide story spoilers, as well as discussions and graphic depictions of gore/excessive blood/body horror/severe psychological horror. Include a content warning so that people know what they could potentially be seeing when they click on the censored content. If the spoilered content is the subject of a back-and-forth discussion, please use another warning when you are switching to a different spoilered topic. (Note that these rules were added to the chat later, so be careful when using the search function or back reading.)
The canon series involved with the Wildcard AU are Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max. Please be mindful of story spoilers!
Channel Organization - Also be mindful of which channel you're in and move a discussion over if need be! That way they don't get too clogged with unrelated info.
Creative Criticism - When it comes to writing, art, or character creation; try to be open to suggestions from others! Nearly all of the creative work in the chat is collaborative, so input from others is important! Creative criticism is not the same as judgement, and is not a personal attack.
Have fun! - Discussions move quickly in this chat! Don't feel bad if you ever need to step back, whether it's because of the speed or a disinterest in whatever current topic we're focusing on. If you ever want to come back, we're happy to have you and can give quick explanations if you feel out of the loop! :thumbsup:
We’re a group of approx. a half dozen to a dozen people, either posting very very quickly in a span of a few hours or barely anything for a few days. We’ve been in an activity uptick lately and there’s about a year and half of back content, too. If it’s hard to keep up on, not that interesting to read through, or you just have a hard time gelling with the group that's already there, there’s no shame in just lurking or dipping out if you need to.
We also talk a lot about Psychonauts OCs, so anticipate that.
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the robot problem: a critical look at tobecky, 5 years late
hello wordgirl fandom i am back :) and i have a lot of thoughts that i never got around to expressing before i moved on from the show. so be aware that everything i'm saying is based on my experiences during the 2012-2016 era of the fandom & state of tumblr in general, and i am not familiar with more recent fan content.
it's been over five years since the show ended, and @ifbrd​ reminded me (along with some great analysis) that while tobecky was super popular since before the show technically started (thanks to the play date shorts), it's pretty unhealthy in a lot of ways that tend to be excused or flat out ignored in fanworks. i'd like to reflect on that a bit (a lot); specifically, how both the show and the fandom approached this enemies-to-lovers ship, and how easily this ship can slip into uncomfortable territory if we're careless about how we interpret the ship and create fan content of it.
i will admit, i'm mostly writing this as a response to past me and my old creations - though i moved on from the show as a whole years ago, i do like taking the time to reflect on old interests once in a while, and reevaluating my thoughts on them. and this ship is probably the biggest one that still lurks in the corners of my mind once in a while, so let's go.
cherish is the word: a short positive note before a much longer negative one
i wanted to start this essay off with some positivity, because i am going to be very negative after this. tobecky was, in some ways, cute. it's obvious from the very beginning that these two characters are on pretty equal ground, even if one of them isn't aware of it. and that's part of the fun - the irony of how unaware tobey is that his nemesis/crush/person that pretty much always wins against him is someone that he completely dismisses as incompetent. i want to point this out because honestly, in general i don't like enemies-to-lovers because a lot of them use a power imbalance within the dynamic, and i hate power imbalances, especially when it comes to actual life-or-death scenarios (at least, as much as cartoons can do that). in most episodes, becky is never actually forced to go along with his wishes. she's not held in a 'date' against her will, nor is she ever really outwitted by him. i bring this up because there is one huge, uncomfortable exception, which i will get to later.
another big plus to the ship is the fact that they just... get along? even when fighting? of course we get brief moments where they just hang out and talk about paintings or whatever, but i'm talking about how much they get each other, even if they don't realize it. like the word banter, for example. been there since day one. becky loves words, and while most other people in her life don't really care (ranging from 'eh, that's cool i guess' to her brother calling it annoying), tobey gives her a chance to show off and thus treats her as a worthy adversary as herself, not because of her more generic superpowers - something that we've seen in canon that she feels self-conscious about (see: her motivation in patch game). one of the less noticed examples, to me, is "it's your party and i'll cry if I want to", because it's just - okay. they both are excluded from a social event, and while it's obvious that tobey deals with it by destroying the city, it's also pretty obvious that becky also deals with her frustration by fighting in that battle. like, yes, realistically it's just objectively bad that he's destroying buildings. but they're also providing each other with a way to work through their frustrations, first by fighting and then by talking things out, and finally by hanging out together instead of dwelling on being excluded from the party.
so it makes a lot of sense to me that many tobecky fans gravitated towards writing far-in-the-future fic, usually by implying that some growth had taken place before starting to write the ship. (there are, as far as i'm aware, 2... maybe 3 exceptions, that take the time to attempt a real redemption for him, at least when i left the fandom.) because if you take away his worst moments, either by reasoning out that he was 10 years old and a mess, or that he was a cartoon character in a cartoon world where everyone's actions are over-the-top, or by just flat-out pretending that certain episodes never happened, there's some pretty solid ground to start a ship on.
go gadget go: we all do not see it, we simply close our eyes (review of canon)
when the show began, i was the same age as the characters. a lot of other people were, too - at least in my cohort of the fandom. i think it's pretty safe to say that many of us have fond memories of the show's earlier seasons, and held on to that interest as we got older, for whatever reasons. so like, not to be all 'as an OG fan...', but i remember seeing the shorts air for the first time in 2006. i have a diary entry in july of 2009 about how i, a 12yo with no concept of the idea of 'shipping', was disappointed in the new tobey episode because i wanted more tobecky interactions. (that was robo-camping, btw, lol.) and so i remember how exciting their rivalry felt, watching them as someone literally their exact same age, and then watching that again as a nostalgic 17yo, and then uh... growing up, to put it frankly, and realizing just how unhealthy most of their interactions were.
okay what i meant to say was, this section is an overview of the relationship's canon portrayal throughout the years.
first, we have early tobecky: this includes the shorts and the first few seasons. this is their classic relationship: he likes her and takes robots on rampages to get her attention, she majorly disapproves and has fun taking him down. we've all seen the show, you know what i'm talking about. his backhanded ways of trying to find out her identity often feature prominently in the episodes, which - sigh, i've mentioned this whole issue before, but it's kind of a grey area in the whole uncomfortable-factor thing, because while trying to find out her identity is VERY invasive, it's something that like... everyone in the show tries to do, even her canon crush (scoops). on the one hand, it's really not a great look, but on the other hand, this is a cartoon meant to parody a genre in which this trope is extremely common. so i just wanna say that i have Issues and Thoughts on this aspect of their relationship, but there are other things i find more important to discuss here.
second, we have late tobecky: this is seasons 7-8. this is... a very strange and huge shift from the previous dynamic, though it's not necessarily obvious. what i mean by that is that for some reason, the show writers made it so that half of tobey’s rampages have nothing to do with his crush on wordgirl, even though that used to be the sole reason for his villainy. seriously. we have the birthday episode, where he's upset because he feels left out; wg vs tobey vs the dentist, where he's mad that he has a cavity; and trustworthy tobey, where his robot goes on a rampage... after becky accidentally makes it malfunction. the two outliers are ‘guess who’s coming to thanksgiving dinner’ and ‘patch game’, but they still differ from previous seasons because 1) his destruction is isolated to a forest far away from the city, and 2) his motive is still to impress wordgirl, but his methods are relatively tame. also he completely gives up on the secret identity thing??? i may have missed some things but i think he straight up tells her 'yeah there's no way you're wordgirl, lol' and the subject is just dropped for the rest of the show.
i also want to include 'the robot problem' here, because it's one of two season 6 tobey episodes, and follows the 'doesn't destroy buildings to get her attention' pattern: in fact, he teams up with her to try and stop someone else from going on a rampage (even if his reasons are selfish, lol).
and finally. the other season 6 episode. we have go gadget go, the bane of my time spent in the fandom. because GGG is the single episode where tobey truly manages to take away her autonomy, and proceeds to abuse that power for an extended period of time, for his own amusement. it's bad. it's Very Bad. put in the context that it's a white boy doing this to an (ambiguously) brown girl, it's REALLY REALLY BAD. and the more i look back on it, tbh, the more weirded out i am that the show not only made it seem like she wasn't affected at all within the episode, it just... forgot about it (which is not unusual for shows and especially children’s shows, but WG does make some efforts to either retain continuity or create canon reasons for why things are forgotten about). it's the kind of thing that you can't excuse and honestly you can't redeem (like at this point, you gotta ask yourself why you're spending so much effort trying to redeem this guy when becky has several other possible ships that are nowhere near this unhealthy - violet, scoops, honestly even victoria if you want another hero/villain ship, my absolute fave rarepair rose, etc).
so if you want to still ship it you have to just pretend that it never happened. (i remember trying for weeks to write something exploring the aftermath of this episode, to try and make myself feel better about it, but the more i wrote the more i realized just how traumatic this event should've been, so i eventually just dropped it.) and i brought up my own timeline of experiences earlier to point out that this episode aired eight whole years after the show started. which means that when i saw it, even though i was a huge stickler for canon at the time, i'd built up my own idea of the show and characters strongly enough to go 'yeah, no, this episode sucks and i am going to pretend that it doesn't exist'. and i think a lot of other people did too, because i really saw like... no one mention it, ever, except for some rogue fanfics over on ff dot net that already liked dynamics like that.
because here's the thing, and i don't know if people nowadays are aware of it? but i'm 80% sure (cannot find a source, so the other 20% is that it was just a rumor) that the show was originally supposed to end after season 6. and even if it's a rumor, it makes a ton of sense, because we get 1) an 'ending' to tobecky, which is a bad one, 2) a permanent wordgirl identity reveal that significantly changes one of the major dynamics in the show, 3) an episode where TJ gets to work with wordgirl and get a nice potential ending for their sibling dynamic, 4) an episode where we see Two-Brains explore life without his henchmen... the list goes on, and idk how many of these are just major stretches. but the point is. if the show had ended there, that would've been a pretty solid ending for many things, including their relationship: aka, it would prove that it was only ever heading somewhere bad, and when tobey finally has his moment of triumph, he is truly evil about it. and this provides us fans who HATE go gadget go with an easy reason to dismiss it - we can say that it was an attempt to conclude things in a way that wouldn't have happened if the writers had known they'd get more time. but despite that... it is still a canon episode.
it is odd to me how dramatically the dynamic shifts after that, though, because we seriously go from 'worst case ever, tobecky is toxic, your ship is dead' to 'no actually they get along and hang out and get ice cream together and tobey isn't even pressuring her into it, she's happy to go along with it :)' like, immediately. i never knew much about the show writers, so i don't know if the writers changed in between these seasons, but i would absolutely not be surprised if they did.
the earlier episodes are definitely problematic as well (though they pale in comparison to GGG) but i think everyone who ships it is aware considering that tobey is, yknow, a villain. from memory, he destroys buildings to get her attention, lies to her about the level of danger that people are in to trick her into spending more time with him, blackmails her into reading his poetry, and he creates a robot based on her that’s supposed to be devoted to him (but of course, all of these things backfire). not great stuff of course, but like... he’s a villain, that’s the point of his character. and considering that he’s a child these are things that can be redeemed, if done thoughtfully.
anyway, to sum up this section, the show starts off with a pretty standard 'enemies with an unrequited crush' setup, takes a really dark turn for a single episode, and then for the rest of the show takes their dynamic in a direction that makes it much, much easier to ship. as long as you ignore a lot of previous content.
wordbot: where's becky's autonomy in all of this? (misogyny)
we've finally gotten to the fandom. i recognize that a lot of this is going to come across as hypocritical considering how active i used to be re: this ship, but like... i'm a very different person now. anyway. disclaimer i guess - i don't write this to accuse all tobecky shippers of being like this - i know a lot of us aren't/weren't! but boy do i have things to point out, so without further ado:
it is very hard to ship this without allowing some bit of misogyny to slip into it. very, very hard. the entire premise of the ship involves a girl falling in love with a boy that repeatedly pressures her to date him via threats to the safety of herself and people she cares about, which... it's 2020, i shouldn't have to explain why that's terrible & a terrible example to set for children (which is why i am glad they never made it canon, tbh). best-case fan content has tobey stop pressuring her and start working to redeem himself out of an actual change of heart, which leads to becky seeing him in a new light. worst-case fan content treats his incessant pressuring and sometimes outright threats as something romantic - and even worse, romantic to the point where he deserves her attention and love as a reward for not giving up or whatever. i did see this pretty frequently for a while, especially in the earlier 2010s (didn't read much, Not My Thing At All), but i don't feel like going into detail here because of how obviously problematic it is. one medium (but still bad) case is where the fan content makes him start his redemption, but treats her liking him back as a reward for not knocking buildings over anymore. another not great case is where she tries to fix him with her love, which is a very common and very dangerous romantic trope. both are just... so incredibly unfair to her.
in content where she tries to 'fix him'... yeah i feel like it's really obvious how misogynistic that is. girls and women should not feel responsible for the evil actions of men, plain and simple. idk what else to say here i just really hate that trope and hated it back then and it just sucks! so can we not do that anymore, thanks.
in content that treats her like a reward for good behavior, there really isn't much of an explanation for what she sees in him. if she just goes 'oh wow, you're good now, i am going to fall in love with you for it' the whole thing falls flat because it makes NO sense whatsoever. we get to hear so much about tobey and his feelings and why he likes her and how he feels about it, but where is that energy for becky? why does she choose to trust him, to spend time around him, what does she enjoy about his presence? where is her getting over scoops in the process of falling for tobey? where is her telling her friends about this, confiding in them, asking them for advice? where is her choice in the matter?
win a day with wordgirl: do you guys even like becky or do you just like the idea of her (misogyny... 2!)
it was pretty standard for all fandoms the early-mid 2010s, but that's still not a good excuse for why so many tobecky fanfictions centered specifically around tobey's feelings while refusing to give becky the same level of empathy and nuance. it is true that to ship them comfortably you have to redeem him to some degree, which means spending time figuring him out and trying to find ways to pull him to the light without feeling super OOC. but ships take two people??? and there was so much potential for fanfics to explore becky's complex feelings on the matter - because she is! complex! she's heroic and kind but she's petty and has a competitive streak, she easily befriends villains but also doesn't trust them and doesn't believe they can ever really change, she's the savior of an entire planet but has feelings of inadequacy as her civilian identity and struggles with feeling like she can be successful without superpowers, she's great at the straightforward meanings and uses of words and loves reading but struggles to write passages that aren't dry as hell, it can be easily headcannoned that she's neurodivergent (special interests, issues with fitting in with her peers, taking things very literally, etc)... seriously there is SO MUCH to explore about her character, and a lot of it comes into play when you add tobey into the mix (literally ALL of the things i mentioned are explored at some point using tobey as a parallel or foil), but i rarely saw fanfiction that explored her thoughts on things further than 'he's evil but... maybe good?' or 'he's evil but... i kind of like him anyway?'.
if you want her to fall for him while being a villain, explore it!! why does she go against her morals? does she lie to herself about it to feel better? does she feel like she has to 'fix him' as part of her superhero duties to the city, and if so, how does that affect her as she tries and fails to help him? does she fall for him when she believes that he's turning good, only to feel betrayed when he starts acting worse because he feels like he can get away with it? it's such a shame that fanworks spend so little time even considering these questions, and it is absolutely a product of how deeply misogyny is/was baked into how we approach media (especially back then).
tobey goes good: but wait, i thought this show was progressive (a conclusion, i guess)
ifbrd wrote a great meta recently about how the show is a bit misogynist, despite being progressive in several ways. honestly i don't have much to add, but i'd really recommend reading through this; it makes a lot of great observations about the ways that male and female characters are presented differently through the show
i have little to add, so i'd just like to conclude with a reflection on the ship from my current viewpoint. i do think part of the reason so many of us latched onto the ship, despite how obviously problematic it was, is that the show treats a lot of things that would be serious in real life as normal or even comedic - which is fine lol, i'm not going to pretend that it's not a show for little kids, so they have to keep the tone light.
but if we, as teens/adults, decide to engage with this content in a more realistic manner, we have to be prepared to confront how messed up so many of the things going on really are. and if you still want to ship it, there's nothing inherently wrong with that! there's a lot of interesting things to explore in this ship, no matter what stage of enemies-to-friends-to-lovers you write them at, and it can be really helpful to have a space where you can explore a dynamic such as this in fiction. (speaking from experience here tbh, writing some fic for them helped me deal with complicated feelings about some ex-longtime friends.)
so to write this ship at all means that there are canon issues that you need to deal with if you want to have them end up in a healthy relationship in any manner that makes sense (unless you create an AU where none of that is applicable, which, power to you then). and i’m not saying ‘write them with a healthy endgame or you’re Bad’, not at all lol. but at least please, please take a step back once in a while to examine the dynamic that you’re writing, and please be careful about whether you mean to be romanticizing whatever behaviors you end up portraying as good.
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High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt. 4
I really need a pick-me-up after 2x11, and I feel like 1x7 might be what I'm looking for, so here I am again with another HSMTMTS rewatch. I'm genuinely so excited for both of these episodes, so without further ado, let's jump right into
1x6: She stands for... lies, pressure and very inappropriate suggestions (coming here after 2x11 might have been a mistake, actually)
I honestly don't get why Nini's reaction to seeing Ricky in full Troy costume was so big — he actually looked pretty ok to me. Sure, the wig is a bit too much, but so what, it's cute.
Ahhh my boy Reddy is so adorable in that talking head... 'click!' Gosh, I love seeing him so cheerful! Guess he's embracing his role as part of the crew. As he should.
'I'm home'. Yes, Sebby, and you look so good, too! Gosh, I love this scene so much. I can't believe I'd forgotten about it.
Gina looks beautiful, though — I mean, she looks beautiful in anything, but I really like the Taylor look on her.
Ok, I fully understand everyone's frustration about this picture — it's genuinely so hard to get a good picture of someone jumping up in the air, and I can only imagine what it would be like with six people. A bunch of my classmates tried to do something like that ages ago and, needless to say, it didn't go very well. No good pictures were taken that day.
Ah, Portwell: the early days. Ok, but wanting something and feeling like you have to get it is far from the same thing, EJ. Honestly, these two in their early days as accomplices... this is not the first time they've been like 'X is the same thing as Y' when it's obviously not. I mean, of course, that time they became accomplices because 'we want the same thing' — which, at that point, they didn't.
Ok, but they were in such unison with that 'Not now!'... couple goals! You know, even before either of them had considered the possibility of them being a couple for real.
That's a lot of pressure that Miss Jenn is putting on dear Carlito over there. I mean, he's one of the youngest at the drama club and he has to essentially do her job for her, all while she's not even sure if she'll be able to return to her job. I just... keep reminding myself that these kids are closer in age to my little brother than they are to me (except for EJ, who is precisely in the middle), and then the pressure they're under takes on completely new proportions in my mind. None of them should have to deal with all of this. And no amount of 'trust the process' is making it better.
'Should I just live vicariously through someone else?' Oh Reddy, you should just live for yourself. I mean, the truth is I don't practice what I preach most of the time, but I really do mean this. Just go out there and live your best life. You're not Ricky's therapy dog or anything (that being said, Ricky's getting a therapy dog when?).
What part of 'a forest of boys' does Nini not get? It's simple enough. Just help Carlos do his job, how about that? I mean, he shouldn't have to do everything himself anyway.
See? He cracked. That's what happens when you put all this responsibility on a teen's shoulders and be like 'deal with it'. He was just trying his best, you guys. He did not deserve all the clapback.
Ricky's forced optimism about Miss Jenn and the show is too much even for me. Sure, I know everything turns out mostly alright at the end, but this just sounds like Ricky's on the verge of a breakdown. You know, every time someone's been too unrealistically positive on this show, it has ended in a breakdown. And that's the last thing I want.
I do agree about the simple acoustic version of the song, though. Sometimes simple is the best option.
Major props to Carlos for going up to Mr. Mazzara like that. If someone had bullied me, and especially if that someone was a teacher, I'd never have dared to call them 'Benjamin Mazarra!' to their face. Even when he's on the verge of despair, this boy is still the boldest. And we love him for that.
Is this where the 'Carlos Surname' joke started, though? I had forgotten. It was funny while it lasted.
Ricky doesn't know it yet, but he's seriously playing with Gina's feelings there. And I don't blame him because, again, he doesn't know yet, but I still feel bad for her.
'Despite the 4.3 GPA, I'm actually an idiot.' — EJ is high intelligence, low wisdom, confirmed. Not that this is news, but I really don't remember much about this season, so I'm pointing this out now.
Now forgive me if I'm not feeling for Miss Jenn after 2x11... she did some really unforgivable things there. Still, as much as I want to say a real qualified teacher would not do any of that, my personal experience suggests otherwise, quite unfortunately. Miss Jenn might not be very emotionally mature, but not having legal teaching credentials is not her biggest issue, really. It is precisely her lack of emotional maturity.
OMG, Big Red accidentally invited the entire drama club over! And that, I guess, is half of how Redlyn established themselves as the hosts of every out-of-school drama club gathering. Thanksgiving is, of course, the other half. Gosh, those two were the parents of the drama club even before they were a couple. Guess they're soulmates in that way, too.
Ok, so I didn't comment on this after 2x8 when Big Red did it to Ricky, but now that I finally notice that Seb did it to Carlos, too (I took my time, thanks), I need to talk about the knee touch thing. See, this is exactly the amount of touch I used to be comfortable with (since I'm very touch-averse) — both on the giving and on the receiving end — and it can mean so much when you feel bad. It's a subtle 'hey, I'm here, it's going to be fine', a sort of hug-without-the-hugging... I feel like this is a gesture we don't see enough of in media and it can feel just as intimate as, say, holding hands or cuddling. I don't want to talk about kissing because I don't know anything about it. But I just love how we've got the knee touch depicted by both a romantic pairing and a platonic pairing in the show. Ok, rant over. But I just really wanted to talk about this because, well, I saw myself in it.
'Her past is a little bit sketchy'... I see, Ash has already started writing Truth, Justice and Songs in Our Key, even if she doesn't know it quite yet.
Miss Jenn finding out Mike is Ricky's dad is just as awkward as it should be. Whatever they had going on should have ended right then and there.
'... people in the dramatic arts are insane' — 'Thank you.' — Umm, Miss Jenn, you are not really helping your case there. Quite frankly, you're lucky you've got the allegiance of the entire drama club. I don't think they'd have your back as much after 2x11, though.
Ok, but... Big Red wearing a longcoat just to take it off for the dramatic flair of it all? An icon if I've ever seen one. Also, mad props to Larry for apparently learning this number in record time after Dara got injured.
Oh, and... mad props to all the kids in-universe for writing, rehearsing, and learning this entire number in one night.
So both Seb and Natalie have solo lines in the song... and Seb was promoted to main in s2. So does this mean Natalie will get the same treatment in s3? I mean, that will probably mean they'll try to stick her in some sort of romantic plot, and I really don't need that, but I really, really want her to be a main character.
Also, let's not forget we had our first Redlyn moment in this number... seeing them dance together makes my heart jump with joy!
I won't lie, though, the entire dance number and everything was just a little bit uncomfortable to watch after 2x11... these kids do so much for Miss Jenn, and what does she do? Put insane amounts of pressure on some of them, shuts others down at every attempt to put in a word, favours yet others despite their abysmal performance at the audition, and then has the audacity to tell that same person to jump off of something high, with all the implications attached? Not that I'm naming any names, of course. Ok, this has taken a sudden and uncalled for turn for the dark, so I guess I'll just move right along to the next episode now.
1x7: A world where 'That was terrible!' and 'I'm so happy!' can both be true at the same time
My girl Ash is doing the recap! And she's a pun queen, too. 'Miss Jenn was in hot water, Carlos was a hot mess...' — not pleasant, but so true. But wbk. Ashlyn is the best.
And... Ricky and Nini's on and off chemistry is back on. Good for them, because after season 2, I really needed to see a good rehearsal. But I'm thinking EJ's joy at the end-of-school bell had little to do with Thanksgiving...
That look Reddy gave Ashlyn as she was walking out... might be me digging for breadcrumbs, but I think I just saw the exact moment my boy fell, and he fell hard. Ok, I realise now after I've said this that 'fall' probably isn't the best choice of words, but you know what I mean. Fell for Ashlyn. Not like... oh, never mind.
'So meek, so mild, sword!' I can't really explain it, but I love this line. And I feel like it describes Ash so perfectly: like, she might be meek and mild, but if you cross her, she's armed. Gosh, I love her!
Not the Caswell parents leaving their children alone over two holiday breaks! No wonder these two are the way they are. But they're about to get a beautiful Thanksgiving celebration. [Fun personal fact: the year I was born, my birthday fell on Thanksgiving day. That doesn't mean much in Bulgaria, but my dad works with a lot of Americans so my parents knew about it and I've known this and that about this holiday I've never celebrated since I was very young. I have no idea why I'm telling you this, but Thanksgiving has always reminded me of my birthday for this reason, so... ok, moving on.]
So I know she kind of suggested it, but... why does Carlos think it's his place to invite people over to Ashlyn's? I mean, this was part 2 of Redlyn establishing themselves as the hosts for any out-of-school gathering, but... oh well, it led to a beautiful party with everyone, so... I'll allow it.
I really liked Nini's talk with her grandma. It was really nice, and a very fitting way to remind everyone what Thanksgiving is originally about. I feel like people often forget that when it comes to... literally every major commercialised holiday.
Wow, EJ really is that person where once the tap is open, it can't stop spilling. And I kind of like that look on him. It's a transitional stage between EJ 1.0 and EJ 2.0, and I appreciate it for what it is.
Ahhhh it's Redlyn's first proper 1-on-1 conversation! I mean, it got kind of really awkward really quickly because of — surprise, surprise — Nini and Ricky (and EJ), but those two are so adorable! No more breadcrumbs — we're about to get an entire five-course meal here! Which goes really well with the Thanksgiving setting, now that I think of it.
Gosh, they've never really talked and my boy whips out the 'the only thing I'd ever throw at your face is a brighter spotlight' line right off the bat? Boy is whipped! But like, he is the master of grand gestures where Ashlyn is concerned. Still, in this first moment they shared, he really was like, go big or go home, and home isn't really an option here. But I should have known, it's in his name after all. Gosh, I love both of those two so much! Especially when they're together.
Ok, so... this is a really bad way to meet your mother's new boyfriend. Poor Ricky. As if ringing his mum wasn't hard enough already.
See, when I rewatch season 1, I get where the Rina stans are coming from, but then again, remember when I used to say I wanted Gina and EJ to just be friends? Yeah, that's changed too. Not that I ever shipped Rina romantically — I rarely ever ship a pairing unless they're explicitly stated to have something going on, just because I can't see that sort of stuff very clearly — but I really, really want them (Ricky and Gina, I mean) to be really good friends. Once they get past the awkwardness of their sort of history, I mean.
I miss the good old days when Nini was a nice person... I mean, we kind of (really) had a glimpse of that in 2x11 (I'm guessing she was making up for Miss Jenn's very inappropriate slip-up), but I miss the days before she was this big internet-famous songwriter and actually had to be convinced by Ashlyn that she should write songs for herself... wait, now that I think of it... Ashlyn might have helped create a monster there. Oh well. Still love her so much!
You know, I love the Choosical, but it's all a bit sad, if you stop to think about it for a sec. Just picture little single-digit-aged Carlito making this whole thing up in an attempt to participate in his favourite thing... only to not have anyone to play with for the next ten years. Great, I just made myself cry. The thing is, I relate to that story a bit too much. I remember in preschool, when the rest of the children would play together, I'd sit in a corner by myself and read the only book that was there... over and over, day after day. I don't even remember a single thing about that little book right now, but back then I clung to it like it was everything. And I couldn't very much share the experience with any of my peers, seeing as I was the only kid there who could actually read (my grandma used to be a preschool teacher and she taught me to read when I was 4). So yeah. I went off on a rather personal tangent there. Thing is, I know how little Carlos felt and I'm so happy that he finally gets to share this thing he made with a loving and supportive group of friends. Everything has its time and place, I guess.
'Look, I'm not following Big Red just because he paid me a compliment' — of course not, dear, you know your own worth and we love that for you — but see, when he said that thing that you're referring to as a compliment, he did not lie! You really are the brightest star and deserve the brightest spotlight. See, the thing I love most about Redlyn's compliments to each other is that they're so sincere and state nothing but the absolute truth. Those two just see each other for what they are, and love each other as they are. And I think that is beautiful.
It's so funny to me every time someone gets something wrong and Carlos just walks past them out of nowhere and corrects them without missing a beat. I kind of relate to that side of him, too. Except it's usually about grammar and language in my case, not HSM trivia.
If I were Nini in this scene, and was suddenly put face to face with Emily on the spot like that, I would not have been able to handle it. So props to Nini for handling it.
Yeah, sorry to break it to you, Emily dear, but whatever you're doing is not a Cockney accent. I don't claim to be an accent expert, but I know first-hand what Cockney sounds like and... that's just not it. Even Dick Van Dyke was closer to a Cockney accent in Mary Poppins, and that's saying something. (See, I feel bad criticising any aspect of Emily because her actress is no longer with us, but... I have no idea who let them get away with passing this off as Cockney).
Is this the beginning of Jennzara there? I am loving this.
Of course Carlos was obsessed with Glee as a kid... but wasn't he a bit too young for it when it aired? I know I was, and I'm older than those kids. I mean, I waited until I was emotionally mature enough to watch Glee, and that wasn't until 3 years ago, when I was 18 going on 19. Ok, I'm thinking too much into this. Moving on.
Ahhhhh, Redlyn! Just... all of their moments. But screaming the lyrics of What I've Been Looking For on top of their lungs while looking right at each other... was so beautiful to watch. Give me more of that!
EJ: 'That was terrible.' Seb: 'I'm so happy!' — Moods, both of them. Those two are real-life emojis, aren't they? And we love them for that.
'... without laughing... or killing each other.' — I feel like that last specification was needed given that it's Ricky and EJ we're talking about, and especially what happened last time they had to do a one-on-one exercise during rehearsal. The ensuing scene, however, is the most hilarious thing!
Root beer, huh? Is that the HSMTMTS code for 'awkward' now? I mean, Nini and Gina had a nice talk there, all things considered. I really want the two of them to put the Ricky thing past them and be friends... but we'll see.
Gina is trying to make the sleepover thing look like 'it's not a big deal' despite how big of a deal it obviously is to her... to which I say, good for you, girl, but I wouldn't know. The only sleepovers I've ever had have been with my little cousin who is 9 years younger than me and also insists on sleeping with a very bright nightlight on, which means I can't sleep at all. So yeah, I wouldn't know. But I'm happy that Gina is feeling included.
So this is the exact moment when it becomes clear that Big Red is not telling us the complete truth when it comes to his HSM knowledge... '14 and 10'? Even I didn't know that. I knew 14, but... for someone who allegedly 'hates musicals', my boy has very detailed knowledge of one certain musical movie... I love how it got him a certain girl's attention, though. Not that she wasn't already paying attention to him, if you catch my drift.
Ok, but this hits even harder now than it did the first time — just when Gina has finally managed to make friends, to feel included in their group, her mum has to move her away again. This is straight-up tragic. I'll say it now, and I'll probably say it again when it comes up in the rewatch — Ashlyn is an absolute queen for taking Gina in for the next semester.
'That's sort of what you always do, huh? Take care of everyone else' — yeah, Ash, and you do the same. You two just need someone to do for you what you do for other people. See, guys, this is what I mean. This is why they're soulmates. Because in a world that has more or less forced both of them to put others first, they put each other first. They each get to be the most important person to each other after they've been stepping back for others all the time. And if that isn't beautiful, I don't know what is. I know I'm repeating myself over and over saying this, but... they own my heart and soul and I'm not for sale.
Ok, but Ashlyn's little run after Big Red left was so cute! Girl is... I don't know why I keep using that word, but... falling.
Unpopular opinion: Out of the Old is the best Nini solo to come out of this series to date. Maybe I feel that way just because I relate to it most, but hey, that is a valid reason to like something.
Oof, EJ's losing followers. Oh well, if they're unfollowing him for being too honest, they didn't like the real him to begin with. So good riddance to them.
Yikes... Jennzara fell asleep with flammable stuff left unattended... we all know how that ended, but just the fact that they felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in each other's presence... speaks volumes. So I guess... well, I don't know what exactly I'm saying regarding the fire they caused, but I loved this big little moment they had.
So this is it. That was 1x6 and 7 and, well, they were beautiful, but there are some parts I can't look at in the same way anymore after 2x11. Guess that's the risk of a rewatch. The Redlyn scenes, though — still the best part of both of these episodes. That and a couple of other things for which I don't need to pretend like I haven't seen season 2.
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mcytbdamofficial · 3 years
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A strange question. If the official DSMP lore of (a) character/s ever heavily changes from what you wrote it as (in example, if c!Velvet turns out to be long dead or the velvetisegg theory is true, or any of the major characters- that their canon lore starts being majorily different), how do you come up with things that would make them "fit in" again? I am just genuiely curious about that
usually a good way to go around things like that is to fall back on what i've already established and try to spin it in the right way. a good thing to use is the nether lore as well as everything with the memories - things like that are unpredictable and pretty much anything can come to light at any point.
(this answer went on for a while longer than i expected so i’ll put it under the cut in case there’s someone scrollin who doesn’t want this whole thing clogging up their dash)
a good example would be the sbi family canon - when phil first shouted the words "you're my son!" a lot of people instantly thought that techno, wilbur and tommy being his sons had been basically canonized (obviously this got debunked later with only wilbur being his son, but at the time that was the canon i went with and had to somehow push in). until a part of the story i wasn't planning to make the sbi family canon, so i had to think of something fast. so i considered how phil, for whatever reason, supported techno's reign during the antarctic empire days. why did he just outright follow him when his acts were universally regarded as evil? initial ideas were he, himself, was rather bloodthirsty, but this new issue came around and i used this blank in the story as a way to explain it - of COURSE phil would support techno unconditionally, he's his son, after all. later on, i managed to strike a balance in the story between phil supporting techno because of them being family, as well as him, himself, having his own agenda in the empire itself (bringing along the bloodthirsty nature of techno, which in turn i later explained with the voices, once those were canonized. that solution to a new canon was practically handed to me, with how i wrote the bloodlust as a voice beforehand. i just had to change it to “voices”).
for your example, i have one idea that could work! if velvet turns out long dead, i could quickly explain it in a simple way. ant WAS getting letters from velvet, but at one point they stopped and he received news velvet had died. ant has been lying about getting letters after some point because he didn't want other people who knew him to get hurt, and maybe he's even in a certain level of denial.
if velvet IS the egg, that could be more complicated, but still doable. tie it all into the source/nether lore, make him some sort of god or symbol of chaos, just play around with the rules of my own world until things fall into place. usually, somehow, i will find a way out just by stepping back and analysing what i already have prepared and thinking of how it can help me insert a new idea into the story without disturbing what's already there. 
this is basically how wilbur being a source came into fruition! initial ideas were him and schlatt decided themselves to not enter the bunker and escape the flood on their own, but how would that make sense? oh yeah, what if one of them IS the flood? then i rewatch the video, and who other than wilbur is putting the commands in to make the water rise! it was too perfect not to somehow include it, yknow? and then boom, i have this cool lore about sources. why not use it? and yes, initially sources were JUST gonna be a passing mention in the captain’s journal. they weren’t ever planned to go this far. and before you know it we have wilbur, kristin, foolish, hannah...
so yeah. what i’m saying is. when in doubt, use nether lore. and that’s how i’ll go around whatever comes of the egg, in the end.
a lot of it also comes down to very careful storytelling and knowing what to change and what to leave alone. when the story started there was a set amount of people that i knew were involved in the roleplay and others i knew would NEVER get involved (keep in mind the story started being written before even the festival happened live, HELL, even villbur wasn't a thing back then), and separated them into small groups based on what i could and what i couldn't play around with. for example;
i could easily change callahan, alyssa, etc around... they're people who barely appear who aren't involved in the storyline. i gave them small appearances to show they're there and mostly kept them to the back.
people who i KNOW will never join the smp can be mentioned, referenced or even included! minx is probably the prime example of this. and if she ever DOES join the smp, by some magical chance? there can always be some magical book in the library that can reverse her from a dreamon to a human. so nothing to worry about there.
future major characters like dream, quackity, niki, etc didn't have much at the start but needed something to push them into their future arcs. in these characters i changed their start but made sure it left space to be moulded into anything they become later - i made niki kind but i also showed her early critisism of wilbur, already sensing she may have a villian arc coming in the future. when season 2 came around, i was proved right so i went in on those small hints more and more.
for characters who have an established arc, start to finish, who it's hard to change in any way, i change nothing - but i look at their past. the obvious people for this are schlatt and wilbur. on the smp they were characters start to finish, their arcs started and ended in the story and had nothing else. so i focused on the past, instead. and boom, suddenly we have 35 smplive chapters of completely original content.
with every character i live small hints of SOMETHING coming in the future. i leave small holes to be eventually filled by canon, and if canon gives me nothing, i fill them myself with something minor. another good thing is to trust fanon - with a fandom like this, where the creators listen to their fans and canonize a lot of popular fanon, it's good to go in on small fanon knowing it will eventually be canon, or even knowing it will make readers happy and will never impact the story, no matter how much it changes (think tubbo having horns, puffy being a pirate/sea captain of some sort, stuff like that)
there are, of course, times when i can’t avoid changing things from canon. phil not knowing who schlatt is, wilbur not knowing schlatt, etc... but i think in those places, those changes serve to improve the story in some way, and i think it’s a welcome change in the end. this story is definitely leaning more into AU than RETELLING, but i don’t think it’s such a bad thing. while faithfully retelling every major plot point, it adds its own elements and creates a somewhat new and exciting story people can enjoy anew. i think that’s what i strive to do the most in this fic - not retell the story word for word. you’ve already seen the videos. you don’t need that. what i DO want to do is create an engaging read for both avid fans who have seen every stream and casual fans who want the lore to make a little bit more sense to them. and that’s that.
god that went on a while didn’t it haha...
okay so to summarise - whenever something major changes in the canon lore, i have various ways of going about it. usually for some characters i would have left behind hints of SOMETHING and will just try to fit them into whatever change has showed up, or try to at the very least explain them with the new development so it doesn’t seem out of nowhere.
if that is not possible, i look back on all i established and think how i can use it to my advantage. could someone have been forgotten in an old world? is there some sort of nether anomaly that could have caused this? is this character a reliable narrator and have we gotten the full truth? there are a lot of ways to change things around with it being completely out of the blue but seeming fitting for the audience - you just have to really think it through, plan it, and make sure you know exactly what you want to do before going into it.
and finally, if there truly is no way to change a thing, shift canon completely and make sure it doesn’t change the base story. allow me to use the sbi as an example again, since i think they’re a good tool for this;
techno will take tommy in and help him recover from exile, same as canon, because he is his brother, as bdam canon states. at first he’ll just do it because phil wanted him to, but soon it will become a matter of family. when tommy betrays techno, it will hurt him more deeply BECAUSE they’re brothers. when he comes back to phil and tells him what happened, even phil himself will become enraged. the two themselves have been shown to have a history of resorting to violence and aggression in the story (look back at the antarctic empire), so doomsday wouldn’t seem out of  character, or, at the very least, out of the question, when two men like them are pushed to their very limits by a betrayal like this. still, it would be unfair on tommy, but on both sides there would be something justified and something they did wrong - and that’s how you balance a good conflict in any story.
so yeah. i hope this long ass essay made sense. a lot of work goes into making sure this story flows naturally, so i’m glad someone finally asked something like this where i could reveal just how much work goes into it!!!
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