#also. while looking for references i... Saw Stuff. might have spoiled myself about something. who would've thought google image wasn't safe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jackrrabbit · 4 years

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Short Leash /// Lev x f!Reader x Alisa (18+)

Summary: [Post-timeskip] The Haiba siblings get up to no good with their favorite pet.

A/N: Lev really went from skinny goblin to sugar папочка, and don’t even get me started on Alisa 😭 Also, imma lay heavy on those Russian terms of endearment 🇷🇺 I know Lev doesn’t speak Russian but I feel like post-timeskip he might, and it makes me horny so…

Dedicated to my eternal muse @koiibito for thirsting with me and stoking my lust for this duo and to @thisisthehardestthing for providing the fashion references that brought this fic to life for me (although I still can’t describe clothing for shit). Thank you!!!

Tags/warnings: (slight) pet play, threesome, alcohol/drug use mentions, size kink (yk Lev is 6’5 and Alisa is 5’10), dom/sub, orgasm control, rough sex, filming, breath play, crying, reader is a sugar baby in denial, no incest but the siblings fuck you together, yandere-ish, established BDSM relationship, all characters are adults

They like playing dress-up.

With you, if that wasn’t obvious. They’re models, so you could say that playing dress-up is a career for them, a method of putting food on the table…and Balenciaga in the closet…and every luxury pharmaceutical known to man in the medicine cabinet. And they’re so beautiful, both of them. They look good in anything. But when it comes to you, playing dress-up is a labor of love.

Today was Alisa’s turn, which means today was red: crimson lingerie in a box she had delivered to you before the party tonight. The box…it looked so out of place propped up against the bottom of your shabby apartment door that it’s a miracle no one stole it. Black packaging, lettering in gold, and the label printed on the box was French, you think? The two years of language class you took in high school didn’t help you read it, but you had no trouble understanding the number at the bottom of the receipt Alisa included with the set.

She left it on purpose, you know that. She wants you to know that the money she dropped on these flimsy little undergarments could have paid your rent for two months. But you can’t tell her that, or she’ll just insist again that your apartment is so small and ugly, it’s not worth it, it’s high time you moved in with her and Lev already, they would love to have you, and you’d never have to worry about rent again.

Spoiling you. That’s what they call it. Sometimes you think the Haiba siblings spoil you because they know it makes you uncomfortable.

Either way, you can’t say no. You’ve tried, over and over, told them they need to stop buying you clothes and shoes and diamonds but they just laugh you off. Lev, especially—he’s got this way of tipping his head to the side and blinking down at you while you try to explain how nervous it makes you to be dripping in excess, smiling lightly like he’s watching a child throw a tantrum. They just don’t get it. Or they do, and they think it’s funny.

Yeah, it’s probably the latter. You were raised right, raised not to accept gifts like this when you have nothing to give in return—but you were also raised to be gracious to the kindness of strangers, and while they aren’t exactly strangers, it’s just too exhausting to try to deny their generosity. Over time, little by little, you’ve given inches and the Haiba siblings have taken miles.

The Haiba siblings. That’s who they are, constantly presented in juxtaposition since Lev made his debut. They were born for this, and not because of their height. It’s the eyes—something savagely beautiful about that shade of green, those pale eyelashes, the slitted pupils like a cat’s.

The lingerie was Alisa’s choice, but the dress was Lev’s which is probably why he can’t keep his hands off you at the party, grip gliding down the low back and breath ghosting over your neck every time you try to put some distance between you. He’s usually more careful than this—Alisa can get away with the playful touching (groping?) because the cameras will just play it off as friendly skinship, but if someone catches Lev stroking across your thighs or tracing those long fingers over your spine while you move together on the dance floor, there’s going to be trouble. Not that it’s your problem, but one of you has to be responsible tonight, and judging by the number of times Lev’s excused himself to go to the bathroom and come back blinking and grinning and rubbing his nose, the responsible one is going to have to be you.

This time when he returns his gelled-back hair is mussed and—Jesus, how careless can he get?—there’s a little dusting of coke spilled over the collar of his black shirt. You roll your eyes and reach up to brush it off for him but he catches your hand and lifts it to his mouth. A kiss on your inner wrist first, and then his teeth are grazing over that tender skin, blunt edges digging in and drawing dents. A bite.

It’s just on the edge of painful when you belatedly yank your hand away. “Lev—you got it on your shirt, seriously—“ You try to make your voice sound scolding, but it comes out too high.

Lev’s eyes are dark, dilated; he laughs breathlessly and nudges closer to you, trapping you between his long arms and the bar. “You want some? Kotyonok, little kitten wants a treat?”

“No…I’m just drinking tonight. I don’t want to be out too late.” The vodka soda in your hand isn’t nearly strong enough, but if you have any more you’re going to be too drunk to keep your act together and deal with their antics. You don’t have the tolerance they do, and just because they can get away with all the coke and the alcohol and whatever else they’ve been playing with tonight doesn’t mean you can.

…Not that your relative sobriety stops Lev from dragging your face up to meet his, lifting your chin with both hands wrapped around the back of your head and bending down only enough that you still have to rise up on your tiptoes to kiss him. You only catch a hint of the smell of honey before the sour-sweet taste of Lev’s favorite drink (that medovukha mead stuff, it’s Russian, you think) is filling your mouth and his long tongue is sliding over yours. “Mmph—“

“Kitten, always so good,” he sighs, pressing closer so your face has to arch up to the ceiling to meet his. In your limited view you can see the muscles in his jaw flexing as he kisses you, sweeping over your tongue, biting your lip and laughing into your mouth. “So sweet…and impatient, yeah? Want to go home with us already?”

His hand on the small of your back is bunching your dress up, giving him the space to push his knee between your legs. You gasp sharply but it just eggs him on and his mouth dips down under your jawline, his body covering yours, so sudden and so public that your eyes flash around the room, wondering who might witness Lev—the international model Lev Haiba—sucking on your throat. “L-Lev, wait, someone—someone will see—“

“You’re asking to go somewhere private? Greedy girl…Alisa’s still having fun.”

You try to come up with a response, but it’s not easy to think straight when he’s holding your waist, circling it with those big hands and petting up to your ribs, cupping your tits while his thigh rubs between your legs. You can smell his cologne, bergamot and amber, and—and—you can smell his cologne—

“Lyovochka~” Alisa’s voice rings out and you know just by hearing it that she’s had as much as Lev. Her hand fists in her brother’s hair and pulls him off your neck none too gently, ignoring his curse and complaints. “Naughty, naughty. Playing without me, were you?”

“Alisa, you’re fucking up my hair,” Lev whines, but he straightens off you, pulling Alisa into your tight little trio at the bar. “Kitty says she wants us to take her home.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and wonder if they can see the blush under your foundation. “I didn’t— I can go home myself—“ Not that you have a chance in hell of leaving the party without them, but still. You can pretend to play coy.

“No.” Alisa places a finger on your mouth to shush you and then her eyes lower and her fingernail—painted silvery white, her signature color—pushes into your bottom lip. You stumble closer, hands meeting her shoulders through the thick white padding of the jacket she’s wearing, over the glittering crystals that look blindingly bright under the blacklights.

Silver and white. Always silver and white.

Her fingernail traces down your lip, drawing a fine line on your chin; on instinct, you tip your head back to give her access to pet down your throat until she comes to a rest on the neckpiece of the harness she included with the lingerie set. When her hand reaches the ring in the center of the choker she grips it, pulling your face away from Lev’s and toward hers. “Lyovochka, what do you think…? I saw it and thought of kotyonok. A collar for our little kitten.”

“Hm, I don’t know. I need to see more.” Lev’s hands are on you again now, splaying flat over your chest before his fingers curl, one by one, around the harness strap that leads from the ring at the choker down between your breasts until it disappears under the neckline of your dress. He’s tugging on it—lightly, but you can’t deny the feeling that it’s like a leash…or the feeling of heat gathering in your pussy at having the two of them all over you like this.

You shouldn’t be letting them touch you (and they are touching you, Alisa’s hand stroking your throat and Lev tugging your side into his chest). There’s always people watching at parties like this; you’ve attended these things on Lev’s arm or Alisa’s enough times to know better than to let them do as they please. You’re supposed to be the responsible one. Too bad your body is craving a lot more than the innocuous touches they can give you in public.

You swallow and Alisa grins, dark-painted lips stretching over those perfect white teeth. “So. Kitten, would you like us to take you home? Say please.”

You don’t have to say it. You could ask yourself why you let them get away with this, why you keep letting yourself fall to the mercy of these siblings, why they even want you in the first place, but those are questions for tomorrow morning—tonight, even though you should hate it, there’s a part of you that wants to purr every time they call you kitten.

“…Please,” you murmur, and as soon as the word is out Lev’s grip on the harness tightens, pulling the choker taut around your neck.

///

They end up ripping the dress.

You kind of hate them for it when you think about how many bills you could have paid with the money they spent dolling you up for tonight. But by the time they get around to it, you’re pretty much too horny to care.

They didn’t even wait til you got home (their home, you remind yourself, not yours), although that shouldn’t have surprised you. From Alisa tugging on your hair and Lev’s arm draped possessively around your shoulders, you should’ve seen it coming, but it still takes you by surprise that the three of you have barely piled in the back of the Uber when Alisa’s dragging you to sit on her thigh, unceremoniously pulling your dress over your hips and sliding her hand up the slit where the fabric falls open to rub your pussy.

You whine and squirm but can’t quite make yourself say the word “no”, instead squeezing your eyes shut and trying to focus on Alisa whispering in your ear that you’re a good girl, getting so wet for them. All three of you can hear the squishy damp noises your pussy is making sucking around her fingers, and dear god you hope the driver can’t hear it too—wait, is he looking? Your eyes peek open, traitorously seeking out the rearview to see if there’s a possibility he’s watching the show, but before you can work up the guts to tell them to quit it, Lev’s hand is folding around your jaw again and forcing two of his fingers past your lips for you to drool on. And—fuck—Alisa’s petting over your cunt, drawing slow lines up from the wetness gathered at your hole up to your clit.

By the time you’ve reached the building Lev and Alisa are staying at in Tokyo, you’re past the point of caring that other people are around. Lev has to pull you out of the car and off Alisa’s lap to get you to stop humping your ass into her lap and trying to push your mound into her fingers. Alisa winks at the driver—probably earning herself a 5-star rating despite all your bad behavior—and then the two of them are steering you past the doorman and into the elevator.

As soon as you’ve got the barest semblance of privacy, Lev pulls your back into his chest and grinds himself into you. You can feel how hard he is, the heat of his body leaching through the fabric of your clothing directly into your skin, hands around your waist forcing you to mold yourself into him while he layers kisses over the side of you neck. “L-Lev, ah— mm, someone’s gonna come in,” you whine as he pushes the bulge of his stiff cock against your lower back, but he just lets one of his hands drift up to scratch at the choker of the harness again.

Alisa’s hands meet your cheeks on either side, framing your face for a short moment so she can study your dazed expression, the flush on your cheeks, your sex-glazed eyes. You look like you want to get fucked, you know that? You look like you want them to push you down in the elevator and fuck you right there. “But kotyonok, you’re so darling. We should let other people get a chance to see, no?”

Lev’s hand spans the breadth of your throat, not quite pressing down (yet), so he must be able to feel the way your muscles contract and release when you swallow—not to mention the edge of tension that enters your body at the thought of someone seeing you in such a compromising position. “Ahh, kitty wants to be all ours, doesn’t she? She doesn’t want us to share.”

“Is that so?” Alisa doesn’t give you a chance to answer, just tipping your face up and letting her lips close over yours. She tastes more bitter than Lev did and for the brief moment you have between getting pressed between them and your brain short-circuiting, you wonder what she’s been drinking. “Are you being selfish?”

“Nnnh, I—“ you don’t have an answer for her, but it doesn’t really matter because the elevator is dinging at the penthouse and Alisa’s pulling you away from Lev into their apartment by the center strap of the harness. You’ve got no choice but to follow, and you consider telling her to quit dragging you around by your neck but there’s something about the pressure on your throat that isn’t…entirely unpleasant, so you hold your tongue.

Lev murmurs to Alisa in Russian—you hate when they do that, especially because you know they’re only doing it because they don’t want you to understand—and then you’re in the spare bedroom, the one that the siblings insist on referring to as your bedroom. Even though you don’t live here. Even though you do everything you can to avoid staying here. Even though the only times you ever spend the night are when you’re too fucked-out by the two of them to consider putting in the effort to get home.

Something tells you this is going to be one of those nights.

They work in sync, teasing down the straps of your dress and easing you out of it until Alisa snaps the harness between your tits and Lev gets impatient and someone pulls the back of the dress a little too hard and that’s when you feel tearing. “Shit,” you hear in Lev’s voice, a soft curse in Russian from Alisa, and then a reluctant peal of laughter as the dress flutters down to the ground.

“Did you—“ You’re about to curse them out for ruining something so fucking expensive, but Lev clucks his tongue and shakes his head and you fall silent. He’s pulling back from you—so is Alisa—and your heart jumps for a second wondering if you did something wrong until you realize they’re just looking at you, drinking in the image of you naked except for the lingerie Alisa picked out for you.

“Bordelle?” Lev murmurs, running fingers down the straps cinching around your waist, the belt holding up the garters—as usual, you don’t know whether to move away from his touch or melt into it.

Alisa smiles. “It was made for her, don’t you think? Our kitten looks good in red.”

Honestly, they call you kitten, but the way they look at you is less like the way owners look at a pet and more like wolves sizing up a little lamb they’ve cornered. Hungry. Starving. You’re not sure which you prefer, but it makes you self-conscious. You’d felt pretty confident about the way you looked when you examined yourself in the mirror before the party—Alisa has good taste, even if the lingerie is just this side of bondage gear and not something you would’ve bought for yourself in a million years—but now you have to fight the urge to cover yourself up with your hands…not that they’d let you.

True to your prediction, as soon as your hand twitches with the instinct to cross your arms over your bound-up tits Lev snaps down to catch it. “Let me see,” he instructs, and the authority in his voice is so definite that your arms fall back down to your sides automatically. “Good girl. Alisa, do you think we can keep it on while we fuck her?”

While we fuck her.

He says it so nonchalantly. And it’s not like you didn’t know that’s what you’re here for. You’re a grown-up, you’re sober (ish), and you’ve been in this room with the two of them enough times that you’re well aware there was only ever one way this night was going to end up. But the way he says it makes you shiver. They’re going to fuck you…like they own you. And it’s kind of terrifying how much you want to be owned.

“I think we can get the panties off without taking off the rest,” Alisa says to respond to Lev’s question, even as she brushes a stray lock of hair away from your eyes. “Besides, I have a surprise for her.”

A surprise? It wouldn’t be the first time one of them has pulled out something unexpected in bed—last time it was a ball gag and nipple clamps, and the time before that it was a magic wand vibrator (plated in literal gold, because the Haibas are nothing if not excessive) that had you begging and crying and creaming all over the sheets. You can’t help your anxiousness as Alisa pulls something out of the otherwise-empty dresser and sets it up to face the bed.

It’s…a camera. A camera? “You want to film it?” you blurt out, your voice sounding pitchy and nervous even to your own ears.

“Great idea,” Lev says, patting your head like that’s all it’ll take to make you feel better.

“Yes, kotyonok. I’m going to film you,” Alisa replies, fiddling with the settings and batting those long blonde eyelashes at the lens once she’s satisfied.

“Wait, I—I don’t know. I’m not like you, I can’t just—” you stammer. Sure, the twins will look perfect and irresistible and bewitching, but you? You’re not sure you want to have a video of yourself getting fucked stupid in their hands. “What if I don’t want to…?”

“But I want to.” Alisa’s gaze sweeps down over you and you lower your eyes so you don’t have to meet it, don’t have to feel the weight of it holding you down more securely than any leash. There’s a reason she’s a model—she could sell anything. Those eyes. How are you supposed to say no?

You want to step back away from her. You almost try, but Lev’s at your back already, long arms draped over your shoulders, a loose hold that nonetheless keeps you from moving. So instead of backing up, you just bite your lip.

Alisa’s face softens—she’s good at that, good at picking up the cues when she’s pushed a little too far for your comfort—and a second later you feel her hand wrapping around yours, holding it. “Safeword?”

Cherry. The safeword is cherry. It’s not that you’ve forgotten. It’s her way of reminding you that you have a safeword, and you can use it, and it’ll be okay. This isn’t even a full-on scene, but Alisa must be able to sense that the addition of the camera made you scared.

Picking up the change in mood a second later, Lev’s hand finds your other one and he strokes his thumb over your skin reassuringly. God, maybe it’s wrong that they can make you feel hunted one second and adored the next, but you let out a breath and relax, shaking your head to indicate that you’re not stopping.

She brings your hand up to her mouth and kisses it so lightly her lipstick barely leaves a mark—wait, oops. You’d forgotten she was wearing lipstick. You must have it all over you by now.

“Good girl. We take good care of you, don’t we?”

“…Yes.”

“We do.” Lev’s impatient, you can tell from the way he’s adjusting his grip to your waist and pushing you over to the bed. “We’re not going to share the video, if that’s what you’re worried about. Alisa likes to joke, but really…”

Your ass hits the mattress so you’re half-sitting, half-lying on the covers, propped up on your elbows, peeking through your eyelashes at the two of them looming over you—and, oh, there they are again.

The wolves.

“…we don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” Alisa finishes, holding up the camera and flicking the little red light on to record.

///

Lev starts, like usual. You think maybe it’s a control thing, that Alisa doesn’t let you touch her until you’re already falling apart on Lev’s fingers, his tongue…his cock. As much as she likes it when you bite back, you’re cuter when you’re begging.

She’s holding your face off the bed by a hand under your chin, wrenching your neck back so your wrecked face is level with the camera. You’re on your hands and knees—or, more accurately, your hands and elbows, with your ass arched up and Lev’s face buried in your slit. “Nngh, nnnnn, fuck please please—“ Your whining is barely coherent, but Lev knows what you’re asking for and he digs his fingers into the meat of your ass to hold you still as he latches his mouth over your clit and sucks.

Fuck— you keen and try to drop your head down to the sheets to angle your dripping cunny closer to his mouth, but Alisa’s grip on your jaw prevents you from getting any further out of the camera frame. “Uh-uh, no. I want to see you.”

“Alisa…ahhh…” Your tongue is lolling out of your mouth and you know you must look like a mess, spit practically falling over your lips as you try to stop yourself from cumming right here. Fuck, it feels good, feels so hot and wet that your juices don’t even have time to cool on your thighs before more is dripping down.

“Tell the camera what’s happening, kotyonok,” Alisa purrs, wiping the saliva off your lip and then pushing her fingers over your tongue.

“…eating me out, he’s—uhhhn—licking my pussy…” you slur around her fingers. Your glassy eyes flit between her appraising expression and the lens of the camera—even though you trust that they won’t show the video to anyone outside this room, it’s making you shudder to think about what’s on the little screen you can’t see—Alisa’s pretty silver fingernails coated in your drool as she presses them deeper into your throat, your body all bound up in red straps and gold fastenings, and Lev behind you, hair falling out of its careful style as he shoves his face deeper between your legs.

The edge of Alisa’s finger bites into the plush of your lip as you moan and unsuccessfully attempt to wriggle your ass under Lev’s grip. “Who’s licking your pussy?” she asks calmly, like she’s asking what the weather is like today.

“Lev, it’s, it’s Lev—fuck ohh, oh,” you whine as Lev slides his tongue flat from your clit up to your hole and pushes the slimy wet muscle inside. It’s so long, you’re never going to get used to how stupid long his tongue is, licking out your walls and making slurping sounds that are downright fucking vile.

Heat is gathering quickly in your abdomen, and you can feel it—that plateau rising before you hit your peak, and the tension in your thighs making them twitch and quiver as your muscles contract in anticipation—and his tongue is so long and thick it’s almost reaching your g-spot, almostalmostalmost, god-fucking-damnit. Your spine curls even further, arching yourself into him, wordlessly begging for him to keep doing exactly what he’s doing. “Gonna cum, fuck Lev please make me, make me cum!”

“Oh? Did I say you were allowed to cum?” Alisa asks, cat-like eyes narrowing.

Shit, fuck, she didn’t, but you don’t know if you can help yourself. Your hand fists in the sheet, curling your fingernails around the fabric to try to ease up the heat where Lev’s mouth is latched to your cunt. “Please Alisa—I need to—“

Alisa shakes her head. “But you don’t get to decide what you need, kotyonok.”

She’s right, but—but, it’s not fair, Lev’s switching between dragging his tongue over your clit and fucking you with it—you try to pull your hips away from his mouth but he doesn’t let you, effortlessly holding you in place while he teases you even higher.

“Who decides?” she continues, petting your jawline and wiping away the first hint of a tear from your cheek as you try to hold it back—

but you can’t.

“You-you decide! You decide when I cum!” you gasp, but your body is already betraying your words, convulsing and contracting as your climax hits you like a truck. You try to hold yourself through it but it’s impossible—your eyes roll back and arms go slack, dropping flat on the bedspread with your ass still pushed up into the air as your pussy walls contract around Lev’s tongue.

He’s still licking you—slower now at least, but you’re shaking at the feeling of him stimulating that sensitive bud. “Stop…too much,” you whine weakly, but he just raises a hand off your ass cheek to give it a light smack.

“Bad kitty,” he murmurs with his mouth still pressed against your slit, and the contact makes you seize up and twitch.

“Yes. Very bad.” Alisa doesn’t look angry—she’s never angry with you, even when you’re…disobedient, you guess—but there’s a note of mischief in her eyes that sends a thrill of fear (and not just fear) down your spine.

“S-Sorry, I’m sorry,” you whimper, but Alisa’s already pulling you upright by the ring on your choker.

“Did you cum? Even though we didn’t give you permission?” she asks, even though all three of you know you did. You nod, avoiding looking at both her and the camera as if that’ll disguise the obvious flush painting your cheeks red. At your admission, she smiles indulgently and murmurs something in Russian that you don’t understand, but you get the gist.

You’ve been naughty. And you’re going to get punished.

You hear the bedsprings squeak and feel the dip of the mattress as Lev climbs up behind you, settling his body against yours so the bulge in his pants is pressed against your back again. He’s still wearing most of his outfit from the party—they both are, and you note (not for the first time) how ridiculous it is that the siblings are willing to fuck you together but being naked in front of one another is the one boundary they won’t cross—but you don’t have to wait long before you hear him undoing his pants and pulling his cock out to rut it lazily against your back.

Automatically you shift your legs apart and reach down to finger yourself like you usually do, stretch your cunt out so you’re ready to take him. But before you can reach your pussy, Lev’s hand is folding over yours and lacing his fingers over your hand to stop you. “L-Lev?”

“No, kitty,” he tells you firmly.

You shiver. Alisa pinches your cheek and rubs over your ear. “What…”

“You already came,” Lev continues, and then you feel his cock sliding between your thighs, between your soaking-wet lips, using your cum as lubrication. “You came, so you don’t need to get ready. You’re going to take all of me, okay?”

All of him. You swallow. The full length slowly rubbing between your legs is going to go inside of you, without any preparation beforehand. “But…if I don’t, it’ll—it’s gonna hurt…”

“Yes, it’s going to hurt.” He waits for a moment, giving you a chance to say the safeword, but you don’t. “It’s going to hurt, and then it’ll feel good, and then you’re going to cream yourself on my cock like always. Yes?”

“Uh—“ You blink rapidly, already feeling his cockhead pushing between your lips toward your hole. Alisa combs your hair out of your face and you turn toward her. “Alisa?”

“Don’t ask her. You need to learn that your owners will take care of you. You need to trust us.” Lev presses in, stretching your little cunt around the thick head, and you suck in a sharp inhale.

“A-Ah—it’s too big,” you whine, scrunching your eyes shut and biting your lip as he slides himself deeper into you. And yeah, it hurts…but with how riled up you are, it definitely doesn’t hurt enough for you to want it to stop. The burn from the stretch is just making you wetter, and the feeling of being filled up by him is unbelievable. This was supposed to be a punishment, right?

Alisa cups your face to kiss you gently, and then her hands drift lower to circle your neck. Lev’s still sliding his cock into your pussy, slowly, slowly, so you can feel everything, every inch of his skin and every vein dragging against your g-spot. The deeper he gets, the more it hurts and the more you want to stop him, to take the lead—but he doesn’t let you.

“Are you going to cry, kitten?” Alisa asks you, reaching down to take one of your hands and pull it over her shoulder so you’re holding her. You grit your teeth and shudder and shake your head, making her lips quirk into a smile. “It’s alright if you cry. You’re still cute when you’re crying.”

With another roll of his hips Lev’s pushing up against your cervix and you choke out a curse. “F-Fuck, I’m not—not gonna c-c-cry…”

“Shh…” Upright on his knees behind you, Lev’s body is so big curled over yours that you feel smothered between him and Alisa. You sneak a glance back and there’s a pale pink flush over his cheeks and shoulders. “You’re taking me so well…taking my cock like that, going to make me forget you were bad…”

You stay still because it hurts more when you try to move, and you need to get yourself adjusted. You have to relax, you have to, but he’s so big, heavy and thick between your aching legs. You still haven’t recovered from cumming earlier, and every time one of the aftershocks hits you and you clench around him, the mix of pleasure and pain is almost too much. Even as aroused as you are, your cunt sucking him in for all you’re worth, he’s pushing against your cervix…and his hips haven’t even hit yours yet. He hasn’t bottomed out.

You’re going to take all of me, he said. You’re not even sure you can. But no matter what, you’re not—you’re not—gonna cry.

Until Lev pulls his hips back, sliding his cock out of you so it’s only his head sheathed at the entrance to your cunt, and then snaps forward again, filling you back up in a single stroke. He knocks into you so forcefully that you jerk forward, your chest mashing into Alisa’s. The force and his weight pulls a squeak out of you and—fuck, fuck—you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

“—t-t-too fast,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as if that’ll prevent them from getting glossy. The pads of Alisa’s fingers are skimming over your cheeks, and her skin is so soft and silky that you want to nuzzle in for comfort.

“But Kotyonok likes it fast, doesn’t she?…you feel how wet you are on my—my cock?” Lev’s face nudges against your shoulder, and you can feel his hands curling around your upper arms, securing you underneath him, holding you in place as he pounds into you.

You like it…like it fast? Your head is spinning, you’re dizzy and hot and feverish, Lev’s cologne is mixing with Alisa’s perfume and you feel like you’re drinking it, ugh. Fuck. Feels like you’re getting bruised up inside and it feels good. Your legs are jerking, weakly trying to push yourself back on his cock to make him fill you up deeper than your pussy can take but you’re totally at their mercy.

“Let her down, Lyovochka. I want kitty to lick,” Alisa says, looking over your shoulder to make eye contact with her brother. She shifts back on the bedspread, easing herself into the pillows and pushing the skirt of her dress up over her waist to expose her panties: mesh, lace, powder-pink. They’re so pretty against her pale skin that you just stare down at her for a second, open-mouthed, before Lev’s releasing his grip on your arms and splaying his palm into your back, shoving your face down toward her lap.

You catch yourself on your elbows—barely—but you don’t have time to adjust to the new position and how stupid fucking goddamn deep Lev’s cock is hitting you before Alisa’s pulling your face up closer to her clothed pussy and adjusting her thighs to make room. Is she going to keep the panties on? Fuck—you almost ask her to take them off but you know you aren’t allowed so you just angle your face in and let drool coat your tongue so you can try to lap at her pussy through the fabric.

The awkward angle means you can barely taste her, but fuck, what you can taste is so good—they’ve conditioned you, the two of them, conditioned you like Pavlov’s dogs to crave what they’re doing to you so badly you can’t even think. The slightly-bitter taste of her cunt soaking through to your mouth has you intoxicated. She got like this from watching you, watching you cum all over the pretty lingerie she bought you, watching you get fucked so hard you’re crying. The thought of her getting off on watching you squirm makes your pussy clench around Lev’s cock.

“Gonna cum again?” Lev asks with laughter in his voice; his pace slows, dragging out the stimulation to your g-spot right as you feel him reach down to tease over your clit. You squeak out a denial but he doesn’t believe you—and why would he when he can literally hear the nasty wet noises from your pussy eating up his cock? “Yes…you are."

“I’m—n-no, I’m noooot…”

“Poor baby, can’t control herself.” Alisa’s pushing you back into her cunt, fingernails scraping over your scalp as you desperately try to lick her pussy. “Don’t be cruel, Lev.”

Another laugh, low and raspy and juddering from the pace of his cock stretching your walls and pushing against that sweet spot inside you. “I’m not the cruel one.”

They’re both cruel, you think, but that’s the only thing going through your mind because you’re pretty sure you’re going to go fucking crazy, your pussy is so hot you feel like you’re melting around him but you keep at Alisa’s cunt because you want to be good, want to be their good girl, want to be their good little kitty.

You want to be theirs.

“Please—please, can I, can I? Please let me, please I need you to let me…” you beg—somewhere in the back of your mind you know you’re going to hate yourself for giving in to them tomorrow but you want it so so so bad and you can’t cum without their permission, you can’t, you can’t be bad again.

“Well…what do you think, Alisa? Has she earned it?” There’s a growl in Lev’s voice—is he holding himself back? Yesss… He’s slowing down, fucking you up from the inside and the outside, pulling that heat out of you, making you squeal and whine and plead just like he said he would.

You want to, you need to, need to earn it, be good make Alisa feel good earn it—fuck, you have to try harder, and you flutter your tongue over her clit through her panties as well as you can, knowing you’re being sloppy but you don’t know how to help it. She waits a long moment and then sighs, pulling her fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your face so you can look up at her, those pretty pretty eyes looking down at yours so indulgently. Adoringly. Like you’re something to be cherished. “Mm…yes.”

And that’s all it takes.

Your mouth falls open and your pussy does something, convulsing—

“—cumming I’m cumming Lev, A-Alisa—“

fuck, can’t breathe why can’t you breathe? something digging into your throat—

Lev’s, Lev’s hand under the choker dragging you upright tightening cutting off the sounds coming out of your mouth, choking your scream into a pathetic little mewl so he can hold your body up next to him while he fucks you through your climax—you can feel your face turning pink, your cunny holding around him, squeezing him so tight he can barely move but he still does, hips thrusting against your ass, the pleasure so bright and heavy you’re seeing sparks, head rushing, or maybe that’s just the lack of oxygen,

too tight the choker’s too tight you bring your hand back and tap against Lev’s and he lets go immediately. “Shit—sorry, are you alright? Can you breathe?”

You can feel him pulling out, and just that movement is enough to set off another round of clenching in your pussy. You’re sputtering, throat contracting in time with your cunt, not too painful. Just raw.

“Try to breathe, (Y/N),” Lev repeats, stroking down your back to soothe you. He sounds worried, and…that’s your name, isn’t it? It’s been a while since you heard one of them actually say your name instead of just kitten or kitty or kotyonok. It’s not like you can really bother pretending you’re not at least a little bit into the nickname, but hearing your real name out of his mouth stokes some kind of soft, nervous pleasure in you. And goddamn, you do not have the brainpower to analyze why.

It takes a moment for you to catch your breath—the air tastes sweeter than it did a minute ago—and then you roll over. “Did...did you cum?”

Lev shakes his head. You turn toward Alisa, and she just pats your cheek—of course she didn’t cum. Which means you’ve gotten to cum twice, and you didn’t get either of them off.

You bite your lip, turn to the side, and try not to let your eyes water for the—third? fourth?—time tonight. “I’m sorry, I—I’ll do it again, I’ll be better—“

“No,” Alisa says gently, adjusting her position to sit next to you and kiss your forehead. “You were so good, (Y/N).”

Lev mirrors her actions on the other side so you’re bracketed by the two of them. After a second of stillness to gauge your comfort, he starts undoing the clasps at the back of the choker and massaging his fingers over the tender skin underneath. You sniffle and then feel him lay his chin on the top of your head, arrange his arm over your side. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You know we like you no matter what, right?”

Alisa nods in agreement, pupils coming to a rest on the skin of your throat as she helps Lev remove the tangle of red satin straps from your body. “Our perfect little kitten. Who’s a good girl?”

Kitten.

Your stomach drops. Not your name. Just kitten.

It must be the twentieth time she’s called you that tonight, but somehow this time it’s different. You cringe, feeling cold where she touches you, but that doesn’t stop her from wiping away the smeared mascara and tear tracks from your cheeks. When you try to flinch away from her, Lev huffs out an annoyed breath and pushes you back into place. “Myesto. Stay.”

It’s a command. Like you would give to an animal. When you freeze, Alisa smiles and then she’s tilting your chin up with her fingers and bringing the camera—the camera, you forgot about the camera—to your throat so she can capture the mess of pink lines and indentations from where the choker bit into your neck…

…and who are you kidding? It’s not a choker, it’s a fucking collar. And you’re not their lover, or their girlfriend, or even their fuckbuddy.

You’re their pet.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #lev haiba x reader #alisa haiba x reader #yandere haikyuu #haiba lev x reader #haiba alisa x reader #yandere haikyuu x reader #lev haiba #haiba lev #alisa haiba #haiba alisa #haikyuu #lev x reader #alisa x reader #haikyuu spoilers #hq x reader #hq imagines #yandere

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infinitegalahad · 4 years

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Borhap Boys As Sugar Daddies

(reposted bc it was disappearing from the tags😭)

hey guys!! I wanna apolgoize for the disappearance, school is ✨madness✨ luv. so I've decided to try something new. But I promise I'm working on requests (and a bunch of new ideas). I love all of the borhap boys (bc they are babies🥺) so this might become a little series of head canons! no major warnings, just lots of fluff and some suggestive material. also reader is gender neutral (boy, girl, whatever you what it my dudes!) why not mix my fav trope and boys all in...one fic😳😳 anyways hope you guys enjoy!! I would love some feedback for future reference

Masterlist (requests are welcomed!)

Rami Malek-

Number one that gif of him...need I say more? 🥰

I’m sick of how ya’ll sleep on Rami!! I’m gonna give him tons of love

He would be one of the most affectionate sugar daddy’s tbh

Certainly would spoil the HECK out of you

Whether it be paying off your bills or lavish trips to Greece, Rami always has your back

You never had to pay a SINGLE PENNY when you were around him

Being with Rami, you were a changed person

Your fashion game went UPPPP

Like chanel perfume, all designer clothes, nice handbags, you NAME IT

”Rami, I’m not buying a five hundred dollar shirt from Theory.” ”What do you mean? It would look so good on you, sweetheart.”

Yes, Rami bought you the shirt

You two were at a vinyl place and you saw a limited edition queen vinyl

He buys it (and basically 10+ vinyls you love)

SO RAMI MAKES A WHOLE ASS ROOM IN HIS HOME FOR YOUR VINYLS🥺🥺

This man is omfg i loveee him❣️

Little sneak kisses to your forehead

Seeing you smile as you shop and blush at his complaints makes him so freaking happy HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH

He would take you shopping at the best stores

“I would be fine at a target, y’know” as you look around a Gucci store

Rami would snake an arm around your waist as he cooed into your ear, “My baby deserves the best, and nothing but the best

What started out as an arrangement turned into a genuine relationship

When looking for a sugarbaby, Rami was simply looking for company (and someone to spoil the heck out of)

In all truth, he was simply a lonely guy who simply wanted someone to make happy, and made himself happy in the process

Wherever you guys would go, he would always wanna hold your hand and be close to you bc he’s scared of loosing someone he’s made a connection with

And i’m totally not crying as I write this

Both of you were in dark places when you first met

Rami showed how much he truly cared about you

If you called him all upset, he would SPEED over with whatever you needed whether it be pizza or emotional support

Sitting on your couch, his arm wrapped around yours as you vented about your problems

Rami had convinced you to drop your job and come live with him because he’s a KING!!

”Angel, you’re not gonna have to worry about anymore.” ”What do you mean?”

You ended up quitting your job and moving in with him

What turned into an arrangement became an intimate relationship

The sex between you to was AMAZING

it was VERY intimate

It started off slow but would get increasingly rougher god I hate what I said

Rami would always check up and you and NEVER go past your limits

It would end with the two of you cuddling in bed

Let’s just say you never had to worry about your bills ever again😎😎

I MADE MYSELF CRY WHYYY

Gwilym Lee-

my love for this man? ENDLESS

Seriosuly gwilym lee HAVE MY CHILDERN

anyways to the pLOT

Gwilym is the sexiest and cutest man alive

The sugar daddy that will bring you EVERYWHERE HE GOES

He’s such a gentlemen

Like all relationships start, it was more of an arrangement then a relationship

Your job was to escort Gwilym at all these events as “company”

Gwilym would send a bunch of nice items and a driver to bring you to the location

”Hope you like this ❤️ xxx” “Treat yourself! 😘xxx”

Like mister I-😳😳

Gwilym is literally such a sweet person

Whenever you were spotted with him, you would get thousands of compliemnts/questions

”You’re with Gwilym! So lucky!”

”That necklace is to kill for! Did Gwilym give it to you?”

”Teach my your ways!”

Whenever you’re at these events all these people give you evil stares

Your like👁👄👁 “is Gwilym a playboy??”

Gwilym is all like “what do you mean?? 🥺Of course not! Your the only one that matters to me right now”

He’s such a king we LOVE HIM

Spontaneous trips to France and Italy

Gwilym and you grow super close

Also your dates would range from fancy galas for Gwilym’s works or peaceful book/poetry readings

He LOVES books and always takes you to bookstores and gives his best recommendations

He literally turns into an english teacher while overanalyzing books

”The greenlight in Green Gatbsy is such a crucial symbol”

”Jane Austen is one of the best feminist writers, she was so ahead of her time!”

You wanna be annoyed but can’t

i can’t I LOVE GWILYM LEE I’M NOT SORRY

The two of you would lie in bed together

You would be slouched against his body as he stroked your hair, reading to you in that accent

As much as you love your gentlemen, you get him into the wacky world of ninety day fiance

”This looks like trash...I’m going to watch every minute of it!”

You guys order chinese food and watch this obsessviely for six hours

I know this is meant to be fluffy but why not add some 🌶

Sex with you and Gwil is like ✨fireworks✨

He would make sure you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day let’s just say😉

He would have to carry you around and kiss your head, saying “You're so adorable, poppet” or “Don’t strain your legs, Cariad!”

Also ceo of AMAZING NICKNAMES

”My anwylyd” (Welsh for dearest)

Would 100% write you romantic poems (over text and in paper)

And yes he WOULD dramatically read them to you😤😤✌🏽

He would always greet you with the most over the top nicknames like “Good morning cariad!” or “Sit there and act pretty, my beloved”

hi mr lee please make me your sugar baby

Gwilym is your sugar daddy but also your sweet, book loving man

He loves seeing you happy so in return, you make him happy💓💓

Joe Mazzello-

This one is a wildcard ladies and gays!! 😌😌

Joe definitely does not strike you as a sugar daddy

He seems more like your boyfriend than anything else

The two of you were inseparable

After dinner Joe would take you to a karaoke bar or for ice cream

After the first date you started calling him Joey

Drunken duets to cheesy 80’s romance songs

The two of you would sing your hearts out before vomiting from the copious ammouts of ice cream and vodka

With Joe it’s eithier mcdonalds or Nobu in TriBeCa

Mr.Mazello has range😌✨

This dude is the ceo of cheesy nicknames

”Yes my little lover muffin!”

”What is it cutie patootie?”

”You look amazing buttercup!”

“What’s up, hot stuff?”

In public he calls you “baby” or “lover” dw he saves you from public embarrassment

You know that meme of will smith and his wife? That is basically you and Joe

My love for his man is infinite

Joe is super clingy

Hand holding and lots of PDA

He wants people to know that your his sugar baby😤😤💓

he will always send texts like

”miss you baby💓💗💓💗!”

”can you grab milk from the store pls??”

”SUGAR HONEY ICED TEA WHERE ARE YOU😩😩🤯🤯🤯”

”Joe, it’s been a day.”

He has so many photos of you in his camera roll

You are his lockscreen😔💓

The ceo’s of amazing instagram photos, whether it be you wearing a burger king crown at Burger King or You guys kissing on a boat with the Italian sunset on a private boat

Captions would be could “my favorite fairytale is our love story” or “yasss queen slay it!”

It’s cringey but god Joe is so adorable

A combination of a child and gentleman ALL IN ONE

All of his friends are like “you guys HAVE to be dating!’

It’s suppose to be nothing more than an arrangement right?

I mean the two of you were living with eachother and he dropped all of this other sugar babies for you

The two of you are master chefs minus the one time Joe burned mac and cheese and set the stove on fire

Also not to get smutty but the sex between you two? Like

Straight up RAMMING to sweet pillowtalk

Anyways Joe being your sugar daddy would definitely not be a bad thing at all😘

Always exchange those “I love you’s” 💕✨

Ben Hardy-

When first seeing Ben on your sugar daddy app, you were 100% intimidated

But upon meeting him, this tough dude was a PUPPY🥺❣️

On the first date he bought you flowers and gave you a hug

“Y/n, right?”

“That’s me!”

“I just wanted to say you look stunning, love.”

You were wearing jeans and literally smiled so much

You know this date was going to go VERY WELL NOW😩✌🏽✨

Instead of a fancy restaurant, Ben took you to a stroll around London

Whatever clothes you wanted? He got it

Whatever cafe you wanted to stop at? Buy all the tea/coffee and pastries you want

Hotel? Trivago

The two of you walked around the city, hand and hand as you got to know eachother

You ended up walking around the city for five hours up until midnight

You laughed and talked about thousands of things

In confusion, you had to see Ben again

As Ben walked you back to your place, you smiled at him,

”I’d like to do that again.”

”Call me when you want, y/n.”

So your “dates” became more frequent

Ben had the best ideas for dates

Dinners at small Italian places, walking around a museum, or just sitting in his place and watching mindless television

He made sure to spoil you

With gifts, literally and figurreitly

Sex was a large piece in your arrangeemnt

But it was not the only thing in your relationship

And it was!! Amazing!!

”You’re so fucking beautiful” as he would kiss your forehead and dive straight into it 🥺😳

Not only could that man be A BEAST but an absolute sweetheart

Everyday you looked forward to not only getting paid by him, but just talking to him for hours on end

He would stay up for hours just to talk to you, whether it be about your lives or anything

and that ladies and gays is a dedicated MAN

No matter what, Ben always found a way to touch you

He always had his hand on the chair behind you or your thigh

You guys would have pillowforts and nerf fun battles together

It would always end with a cuddle session

Frankie would be skeptcial but love you!!

You guys got so close that he took you on a trip to the greek islands AND PROPOSED!! LIKE!! YES!!😌😌😌

LIKE YES POP OFF MISTER BEN HARDY

#rami malek #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #ben hardy #rami malek x reader #joe mazzello x reader #gwilym lee x reader #ben hardy x reader #my writing #queen #borhap boys #headcanons

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pencilofawesomeness · 3 years

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Fics I Absolutely Adore and Would Recommend to Anyone

I’ve been meaning to do this for a long, long time, because I love reading fanworks and they deserve a lot of love and I love sharing things that I love.

Obviously this isn’t everything, and if it’s not on this list that doesn’t mean I don’t love it, it just means I forgot at this moment. I will be adding to the list and I remember things or come across it again. (Trying to sort through my bookmarks and subscriptions is like trying to catch a fish bare-handed.) I’m also gonna shy away from the one-shots, even though I adore fun one-shots, just for the sake of organization. The list would be super long otherwise, and those are best sorted by fandom. Here... Here are just some brilliant works I want to rant about.

Disclaimer: I say “recommend” because I would recommend these works, any time any place, but do keep in mind the story’s rating and tags and stuff. Not everything is kid-friendly.

There is absolutely no hierarchy to the list below. They are added as I add.

Fairy Dance of Death

by Catsy ( @fairydanceofdeath )

Fandom: Sword Art Online Word Count: 660,282 Status: ongoing

「AU reboot of the entire SAO storyline, beginning from the premise that Kayaba Akihiko was obsessed with magic and Norse Mythology rather than swords and pure melee. As a result, he created the Death Game of Alfheim Online rather than the floating castle of Aincrad—a world in which player-killing is not a crime, and the nine player races are in competition with each other to reach the top of the World Tree. Multi-POV epic following the stories of multiple canon characters throughout the game.」

If Catsy wrote the SAO light novels and anime, SAO would be among the legendary series. Fairy Dance of Death has this amazingly simple premise of making Alfheim Online, the video game from the original series’ less-than-stellar second part, the game that the main cast becomes trapped in. However, it’s so much more. They took the characters and made them characters, and everyone gets ample spotlight—even background characters that normally wouldn’t receive a second thought. It’s masterful work, and to boot, there is a lovely frame of in-game mystery and player conflict. The organization is phenomenal and I aspire to world-build the way they did. Not to mention that stakes are so much higher and this series has ripped my heart to shreds more than once.

It has also brought me great joy, and even when I was in the dumps and didn’t want to read anything, a FDOD update made me pick up my phone and read when I otherwise wouldn’t have. It has a really special place in my heart. It updates once in a blue moon, but that’s okay.

Even if you have never seen a single piece of Sword Art Online, Fairy Dance of Death is still a great read. In fact, it’s the Better Version of SAO, if we’re all being honest, so I would especially recommend it if you hadn’t seen the original. Or if you have. The characters are given so much love and detail, to the point where Fairy Dance of Death’s characterizations are More Canon to me than Kawahara Reki’s work. It is just a beautiful piece of fiction, and it makes you question the depravity of man on levels that SAO shied away from.

Poisoned Dreams

by StrangeDiamond

Fandom: Genshin Impact Word Count: 82,852 Status: Complete, with a complete sequel and more to come

「 Every night now, Diluc dreams of death. Usually Kaeya's. In between these nightmares his life is falling apart. It doesn't take Kaeya long to realize that this is something much more insidious than simple bad dreams. His brother's life and sanity are on the line and there is nothing Kaeya won't do to save him. Bonus chapter added.」

In a growing fandom from a new game, StrangeDiamond swooped in and characterized these bad boys so well I think it’s canon. It really breathes life into the video game lore, and it’s an A+ depiction of awkward sibling re-bonding post-Terrible-Happenings. Poisoned Dreams can be read alone with a basic understanding of Genshin storybuilding, but StrangeDiamond has an entire group of fics and oneshots set in the same headcanon, and they integrate them really well and subtly together. Not to mention that the narrative style is really clever with making you question what is real and what is dream (a big point in this story) and the inner voices of the point-of-view characters are very compelling.

One Word to Change the World

by AgentMalkere

Fandom: Fairy Tail Collective Word Count: 43,988 (30 parts) Status: probably never coming back

「 In just one universe, Ultear called out to her mother instead of turning away and the fate of Fairy Tail and the world was irrevocably altered. These are glimpses of a world where a single word made all the difference.

In other words, welcome to the Butterfly Effect - Fairy Tail style. 」

It’s a really cute canon-divergent, and while the series makes no attempt to re-write Fairy Tail, it addresses the major events and just snippets in between. It does a good job at giving the vast cast ample spotlight, but it’s also an easy read. It’s special to me because it was the series that made me really pay attention to Bickslow in particular, and I respect that.

Vigilantis Pretium Libertatis

by aradian_nights

Fandom: Attack on Titan Word Count: 399,226 Status: Complete

「 Five years ago, an accident freed Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, and Armin Arlelt from an experiment that forced the most extraordinary powers onto them. After five years of separation, of being raised apart to be heroes by a set of three very different adults, they meet again. As they uncover the truth behind their captivity they realize being free and being heroes are sadly nothing but an illusion. 」

This wrecked me.

I still remember when I read it. It was the beginning of 2018, and I had the flu and a lot of time on my hands, so I binge-read this. It was simultaneously the best and the worst thing I have ever done, because I resonated with it so deeply there were times I was just staring up at the ceiling wondering what was real. I empathized with the characters to a level I rarely achieve, and I empathize easily. I laughed. I cried. It was amazing.

I refer to this story in conversation to this day. It handled themes published authors have only dreamed of achieving. Heck, if Dani (the author) took out the names of the AoT cast and replaced it with new ones, it could be its own stand alone novel. It is worldbuilding from the ground up, and any fandom knowledge you take in with you is used against you like a knife leveraged against your throat. Yet, no one is out of character. It’s phenomenal. I would say more, but this is something I daren’t spoil for anybody, because you must be as wrecked as I was. Vigilantis Pretium Libertatis is a level of writing I achieve to gain as a writer myself. It is a masterpiece in every sense of the word.

Life in Glass Houses

by blueskyscribe ( @blueskyscribe )

Fandom: Transformers (Transformers Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass) Word Count: 119,900 Status: Ongoing (maybe, I hope)

「 No one would have thought Bumblebee and Knock Out were capable of getting along, but when they're stuck in a strange new world and their only hope of survival is cooperation . . . Yeah, they're probably doomed. 」

I could be biased because Knock Out and Bumblebee are two of my favorite characters, but it really is brilliant. Two enemies, stuck together—but not in an overly cliché way. It’s the right amount of cliché, with heaps moral conflict and inner conflict and sometimes just beating each other with a broom when no one is looking. It’s also a fascinating look into what makes a character the way they are in relation to the morals they possess, and how stalwart those morals can be. I can’t help but think of this story whenever I see or write a “role reverse” or mirror-verse AU. It does an excellent job at making all of the characters engaging and their own character, despite being in a mirror-verse.

Yesterday Upon the Stair

by PitViperOfDoom ( @pitviperofdoom )

Fandom: My Hero Academia Word Count: 424,070 Status: Complete

「 Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weird quirkless weakling on top of it.

But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless. Even before meeting All-Might and taking on the power of One For All, Izuku isn't quirkless.

Not that anyone would believe it if he told them. 」

As a person who normally doesn’t read these kind of minor canon divergences, especially at the time of reading, I frickin’ love this fic. In fact, I think YUTS gave me a deep appreciation for canon divergence fics. It’s MHA in all of its glory but it’s so much more, and even the parts that rehash canon give new light to the characters and their points of view.

I had read Viper’s work before and saw Yesterday Upon the Stair filling my inbox, and then I finally watched My Hero Academia. It was one of the first MHA fics I read and it still has a very special place in my heart. I recommend this series to people who don’t even watch MHA; in fact, there are some who might prefer the darker tones and themes of heroism vs apathy to the main series. Not to mention the writing style is phenomenal, and I aspire to be that good. It made me laugh. It made me cry. Yes, tears streaming down my face crying. It is the best ghost story I have ever read.

the Vantage Point Universe

by Aggie2011 ( @aggie2011whoop )

Fandom: The Avengers (MCU) Collective Word Count: 1,032,651 (35 parts) Status: Ongoing (just slowed down)

「 Six months after the Loki incident, Clint isn't adjusting well. When an enemy from his days in the Army comes back to haunt him, he'll be forced to face a part of his past - and to move past Loki, if he has a hope of finding his place with the Avengers. (First of a universe created to center around Clint Barton) 」

// description taken from first installment

Have you enjoyed the MCU, especially the first-era Avengers phase, but like me, were disappointed in the fact that Hawkeye was barely there? The VP universe is for you.

I honestly have a hard time remembering what was canon and what was VP. And if it’s not canon, it should be. The VP universe gave so much life to Clint and to Natasha and to all of SHIELD and even the rest of the Avengers. It’s just...so good. It’s completely immersive. It focuses a lot on Hawkeye and Black Widow from before the Avengers team-up, as well as after, and it all flows together so beautifully. Not to mention that I can be reading a mission that happened pre-series, so I know that they are going to live with all of their limbs, and I still sit there on the edge of my seat the whole time.

The OCs, minor as they are, that are created for this are also wonderfully done. I can’t believe Dan and Phil don’t exist in canon. Every character, canon or no, is engaging and dynamic, it is a pleasure to follow each point of view. The emotional turmoil is also handled very well, and the VP universe carries the MCU trend of humanizing its heroes and takes it so much further.

Ghosts of the Future

by Evan Stanley ( @evanstanleyportfolio )

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog Word Count: comic (18 issues) Status: ongoing

「 About 200 years in the future, Silver the Hedgehog is an average kid living in San Francisco... except for his strange and terrible dreams of a dying Blue Hedgehog, a Black Hedgehog, and mysterious gems called "Chaos Emeralds". What will he do, when these "figments of his imagination" appear before him in his real life? 」

// description taken from first installment

Okay so this is the only one that isn’t an Ao3 story, but rather a comic on DeviantArt. However, it is still one of my favorite stories. Even though it takes the commonalities of Sonic canon and turns them on its head, GotF really treats the characters well. There are enough familiar world elements to create intrigue, but it is set in a completely different take of the future, so there is ample opportunity for world building and being able to engage with a completely new thing. I wish SEGA put as much love in the series (namely the games, because the comics are *chef’s kiss*) and all of its possibilities as creators like Evan Stanley do.

The friendship and family relationships in GotF are so diverse and all so fantastic to witness. It’s a keynote example of the new hero and the old veterans, and both parties are active and trying their best.

Do not be alarmed by the starting art style. Sure, it’s rough around the edges at first, but then it gets better, and then it gets gorgeous, and then you’re left there so stunned that it looks like just life canon art. And then you could be like me, blinking slowly as my small brain finally connected that this Evan Stanley is in fact the Evan Stanley. GotF is an amazing fanwork, but she also draws and writes for the Official Canon comics (the IDW ones now) and that work is also phenomenal and should be supported.

Whirlwind

by Lynse ( @ladylynse )

Fandom: Danny Phantom, American Dragon: Jake Long, Miraculous Ladybug, Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja Word Count: 75,556 Status: Complete

「 Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny really should've expected something like this when he got that phone call from Jake. (Secret Quartet fic) 」

I have to start by saying that I adore all of Lynse’s fics, and I chose this one simply because it is one of my favorites. But it’s all fantastic, one hundred percent. I also love Mirrored, the sort-of prequel to this fic, but Whirlwind just has the chaotic pure bean energy that each of the shows bring and it foils against each other so perfectly. This is the epitome of the Secret Quartet crossover, truly.

All fandoms and all characters get ample love, and the way the reader gets to see just how badly the characters’ assumptions are going is positively wonderful. It’s so easy to fall into the “I know what’s happening and so do the characters” trap, but Lynse leaps over it gracefully and lands in greatness. The fic had me smiling like a maniac one minute, and feeling sorry for my babies the next. Wonderful. Simply fantastic!

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cali-holland · 4 years

Text

Interview Trouble, Part Two- Tom Holland Mini Series

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: With your relationship now public, you and Tom do interviews together.

Word Count: 1900

Part One

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

A/N: Didn’t intend on doing a part two, but I couldn’t help myself!

~~~

“Hi, everyone, I am Y/N Y/L/N.” You smiled at the camera.

“And I’m Tom Holland.” Tom said with a wave.

“And we’re here to answer some questions while playing with puppies.” You explained, as prompted. Tom immediately started to try to play with as many puppies as he could. Meanwhile, you just casually played with the one nearest you. Your relationship had been public for a year now, and, with Tom’s new movie coinciding with you releasing new music, your managers set up couple’s interviews for the two of you to do together.

“How did you two meet?” The interviewer asked, off camera.

“We met,” Tom started, looking at you with a smile, “At this pub in London about two years ago. I had been a fan of Y/N’s music for a while, so when I saw her I just had to go say hi.”

“Correction. He tripped and fell on his way over to me so I had to help him up.” You teased and he pouted.

“What can I say? I was already falling for you.” He laughed, “But it’s true. I was whipped.”

“I’m whipped too.” You leaned over to give him a peck on the lips.

“You live together now. Would you two ever adopt a dog?” The interviewer spoke up. As if on cue, a small black puppy flopped down into your lap and started to fall asleep.

“Aw, I feel chosen.” You smiled, softly petting the dog. You turned your attention back to the camera to answer the question. “We haven’t really thought about it, have we?” You looked over at Tom.

“We haven’t, no.” He laughed, “I love that you have to look at me to make sure we haven’t talked about getting a dog.”

“Maybe I just want to look at you.” You joked, playfully rolling your eyes at your boyfriend.

“We should get a dog, though. When we go home next, we’ll get a dog, just for you Buzzfeed.” Tom said, continuing to play the puppies crawling over his lap.

“What’s the most romantic thing you’ve done for each other?” The interviewer continued.

“Oh God,” You let out a small sigh as you started to think about what you’d consider to be the most romantic thing.

“Oh God? Am I really not that romantic?” Tom questioned, feigning offense.

“No, no.” You laughed.

“Did you see her reaction? Just ‘oh God, he never does anything romantic’.” He teased.

“I didn’t say that.” You playfully hit his arm. “I need to think about it.”

“I say, the most romantic thing you’ve done is- remember when we first started dating and you were over at my place?”

“Oh, this.” You smiled fondly. Tom turned to the camera to continue explaining.

“We’d only been dating for about a month, and I got really sick when Y/N was at my house. I had food poisoning so I couldn’t stomach anything, but she stayed with me and made me soup when I could eat again.”

“That’s such an odd thing for you to consider the most romantic thing I’ve ever done for you.” You teased. “You were like ‘most romantic thing? She saw me puke but she stayed’. Peak of romance right there.”

“It’s true, though. I really thought ‘she’s seen me vomit, she’s going to break up with me’, but you stayed. You’ve done a lot of romantic things, but that was the first one that I was like ‘I’m in love with this girl’.” He said, a small blush in his cheeks because, yes, he did just embarrassingly admit to the world that him being so sick was ‘the peak of romance’.

“Aw, babe.” You smiled, leaning over and kissing him. “I think the most romantic thing you’ve done for me was when we were in Atlanta, just before my tour while you were filming Avengers. You had the day off and we went to this small boutique, and I saw this cute wolf figurine.” You held up with your hands about the size of it, not bigger than your own hand. “I didn’t buy it that day, but when you surprised me on tour like a month later, you gave me that because you’d gone back and gotten it for me.”

“I like that you both went for small gestures, when we’ve all seen the Bali pictures.” The interviewer joked, referring back to when Tom surprised you with a trip to Bali. Not only was the trip a surprise holiday, but he also had candles and rose petals put throughout the hotel room.

“Oh, no, that’s up there.” You laughed. The small puppy on your lap let out a whine, calling for attention.

“We’re definitely adopting a dog.” Tom said and you nodded in agreement.

And a couple weeks later, when you both returned to England, you had adopted not one, but two puppies.

~~~

Back in England, you two still had more interviews to do. This time, though, you two were doing it through Facebook live. Instead of having an interviewer ask questions, you two read off a cue card, asking each other questions to see who knew the other better.

“Which of your movies is my favorite?” You asked Tom, once the cameras started to roll.

“Far From Home.” He said, smugly, already knowing he got the right answer. “What’s my favorite song of yours?”

“A Thousand Years.” You replied, immediately knowing his answer. It was the first song you had written about him, and he went weak anytime he heard it. “What’s my go-to drink?”

“I might not know this.” Tom laughed, nervously. “I like beer, but yours is tequila, right?”

“Two years and you still question if I like tequila.” You teased. “But that’s right.”

“Who was my childhood celebrity crush? Damn, that’s easy.” He shook his head, “Unfair.”

“Is it Jennifer Aniston?” You asked, and he nodded, “I guessed that one.”

“Oh sure.”

“Who would I love to collab with?”

“Ed Sheeran.” Tom replied quickly.

“You know me so well.”

“What’s my all-time favorite movie?” Tom read the card, laughing, “Wait, I don’t even know this one.”

“Does Dodgeball count? We’ve watched it like a million times together.” You joked.

“Yeah, it counts.” He nodded, approvingly.

“Last question. What’s my ring size?”

“Wait, I know this.” Tom paused, thinking about it. “I just talked to your sister about this the other day.”

“You what?” Your eyes went wide at his comment. He laughed, awkwardly remembering the interview was live.

“She was talking about how she has a ring that she wants to get rid of, she was going to give it to you.” He explained, maintaining his cool. The blush on his face told you another story; you could tell he was lying. He may be an actor, but he could never lie to you, no matter how much he wanted to.

The interview’s director cut the livestream there, and everyone left you and Tom on the couch to talk about the elephant in the room.

“So you asked my sister about my ring size.” You said, smiling hopefully at Tom.

“Yeah,” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to spoil it. God, I’m so bad at keeping secrets.”

“I love that you suck at keeping secrets. It’s adorable and it’s so completely you.” You placed a hand on his arm, rubbing it softly. Tom fished into his pant pockets and pulled out the small red box.

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this, but I don’t really care because I just want to be with you.” Tom shifted off the couch and onto one knee.

“You don’t have to do this now. I can wait.” You reassured him, knowing that you couldn’t convince him to change anyway. Not that you wanted to wait- your answer would still be the same no matter when or how he asked.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I love you more than I can explain. Everyday that I spend with you, I fall more in love, and I want to spend everyday with you for the rest of my life. I’m already the luckiest and happiest man on earth because I have you, but will you make me even luckier and happier and marry me?” Tom asked, popping open the box to present a beautiful, small diamond ring to you.

“I love you so much- yes!” You hadn’t even finished your own sentence before Tom was already slipping the ring onto your finger. Both of you knew exactly what you’d say, and it made you love him even more. He sat back on the couch next to you, so that you could kiss your fiance properly.

~~~

“Please welcome the talented, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, Tom Holland!” Jimmy Kimmel announced as the curtain opened to reveal Tom. Tom walked out onto the stage, waving at the audience, and shaking hands with Jimmy. He saw you in the crowd and blew you a cheeky kiss before sitting down in his spot.

“So, it’s been a year since you’ve last been on the show. How has life been?” Jimmy asked.

“It’s been good, just lots of work. I spent a good portion of last year just working on different sets. I got some exciting stuff coming soon.” Tom replied happily.

“You also,” Jimmy paused as he got out a picture of Tom’s post on Instagram. It was of you two kissing while you held up your left hand; the classic proposal photo. “got engaged recently?”

“Yeah, I did.” His cheeks went red as his eyes found yours in the crowd.

“Congratulations. Can we bring Y/N up here?” The host asked and the audience cheered when you stood from your seat. Jimmy greeted you with a hug and you kissed Tom as you sat down next to him on the couch. “Let’s see the ring.”

“There we go.” Tom said proudly as you showed off your left hand to Jimmy, the audience, and the cameras.

“Did we get a good close up of it?” You joked.

“It’s so shiny, it’s hard to take a good picture.” Tom laughed. You casually rested your left hand on his leg and he covered your hand with his own.

“I heard a rumor that, Tom, you actually spoiled the surprise.” Jimmy said, “How did- how did you do that?”

“So we were doing a livestream interview, and I had been very secretive about proposing-“ Tom started.

“You were not secretive.” You teased. “You told everyone except for me.”

“That’s generally how proposals work.” Jimmy laughed.

“No, I’m talking about how fans knew he was going to propose. He would tell people in the grocery store, that kind of everyone.”

“I was excited and trying not to tell you.” Tom said, “It’s hard not being able to tell the person I tell everything to about something so exciting.”

“But anyway,” you continued the story, “He said during the livestream he’d just asked my sister for my ring size, and then he proposed when the cameras stopped rolling.”

“How sweet.” Jimmy commented.

“The cat was already out of the bag. It’s not like I could go back.” Tom joked.

“You two also just adopted a couple dogs, right?” Jimmy asked, pulling out another picture of you and Tom with your two rescue staffordshire puppies. The audience let out a series of awes at the photograph.

“So Hugo’s the fawn colored one and Marley’s the white one.” Tom stated.

“What kind of breed are they again?”

“They’re both English Staffordshire bull terriers. Tom’s got one named Tessa and she’s such a sweetheart. But we did an interview with puppies for Buzzfeed and decided we needed to get a dog.” You explained.

“And then we couldn’t choose just one so we got two.” Tom laughed.

“They’re our babies.” You joked, feeling Tom’s finger brush over the ring on your left hand which made you smile.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland series

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inlovewithfictionals · 4 years

Text

Just Like Us, In A Way. (Jason Todd x Reader)

A/N: Yep, i’m writing for Jaybird. So I got this prompt from my friend and I was going to write it about Dick, but then I remember that Jason loves to read. So I thought this would fit more with Jason. Oh and there’s a spoiler for “The House of Hades” book, so if you want to read it, might wanna skip. Unless you’re fine with spoilers. And there’s a Harry Potter reference in this, so I’ll just let you know that ‘Y/H/H’ means ‘Your Hogwarts House’. Ok bye! Enjoy, loves!

Prompt: “What if you wrote about person B on the house, reading. And they’re in the middle of the feels, and then person A enters the room and was like ‘What’re you doing?’ Then person B explains and person A’s just like ‘that sounds like us’.”

Warnings: Fluff (it feels weird to write a fluff for Jason), a couple of curse words, a small drop of angst (and I meant really small).

Word Count: 1580

It’s a calm night at Gotham. The night sky is pretty clear, a slight cold breeze in the air, not much noise outside nor inside Y/N’s and Jason’s apartment.

Y/N is sitting on the couch alone, reading a book called ‘The House of Hades’ while munching on some potato chips. She was supposed to go on a patrol with Jason and the rest of the Batfam tonight, but because of last week’s event, she had to stay at home and rest.

Basically, Bruce had told Dick, Jason, and Tim to go on a mission, while Damian and Y/N had to stay. Much to their dismay. Apparently, the mission was ‘dangerous’. Which is why Jason didn’t want her to come. “It’s too risky, Y/N.” he had said. As for Damian, he was sick but he still protested that his father didn’t allowed him to go. He finally gave up in the end, being too tired to argue.

But Y/N? She didn’t gave up. Like the stubborn girl she is, she decided that she’s a big girl and that she can handle this ‘dangerous’ mission. Besides, maybe they need an extra help. And how bad can it be?

Long story short, she ended up having a sprain on her left ankle, a bullet wound on her shoulder and a pissed off, overprotective boyfriend. Thus, she had to stay at home for a couple of weeks and rest.

Now, here she is. On the couch, alone, emotionally invested in a book. As usual.

Jason and Y/N both loves to read. Whether it’s about science, thriller, fantasy, or an old classical books, they’d read them. That’s kind of the reason why they clicked. It’s the similarities between them.

Sometimes, they would read together before bed. Y/N’s head on Jason’s shoulder and his’ on top of her head, reading along. He’ll complain out loud if one of the characters did something stupid or embarrassing and he’ll comfort Y/N when she’s crying over a characters death. Or he’ll laugh at her for crying over a characters death.

“He’s just a fictional character, doll.” Jason chuckled.

“He’s much more than that and you fucking know it.” She cried.

This time, she’s all alone. Therefore, no one can comment anything about her being emotional because of a book. Unfortunately for her, that didn’t last long.

Y/N was too deep into the story when Jason arrived. He enters through the bedroom window, expecting to see her curled up on their bed, asleep. But confused when he sees no one in the room. He checked the bathroom, but no one was there as well. Taking his helmet and domino mask off, Jason starts to worry.

I swear, if she goes on a patrol without me knowing-

His thoughts was stopped once he saw Y/N on the couch, with blanket covering her shoulders, slightly shaking, and whimpering softly while muttering “oh my god, I love them.”

Never mind, then.

He peeked from the back of the couch to see that she’s reading a book. He forgets about his previous worried feeling and almost giggled on the sight of his girlfriend in the middle of what she often called “feels”.

Jason takes off his gloves and shoes, and went closer to Y/N’s oblivious self. When he got closer, he looked at her from the behind the couch, right beside her left shoulder. “What are you reading?”

Y/N was jumped. She screamed and on instinct, she hits him with the book. Jason falls back, groaning in pain. As soon as she heard him groan, she immediately realizes that it’s just Jason.

“Jason! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to smack you!” She exclaimed, while giving Jason a hand.

“For a paperback, fuck, that kind of hurts.” He groaned, holding his forehead above his right eyebrow where she accidently hits him.

“Well, next time, announce your arrival first, Todd.” Y/N laughed.

Jason laughed, grabbing her hand and stands up. He jumps over and sitting beside Y/N that already has the blanket around her again.

“So, how was patrol?” Y/N asks him while flipping the page.

He shrugs, putting his head on her lap. “Not much happened. In fact,” he paused to laugh. “Your book-attack was the hardest hit I got tonight.”

“Must’ve been a slow night then?”

Jason hummed in agreement. “Hey, you haven’t answered my question. What’re you reading?” He asked again, looking at the cover.

“The House of Hades.”

“Rick Riordan?”

“Yeah.” Y/N answered shortly, eyes are still on the book.

“I thought the series was about demigod and stuff.” Jason said, his tone was a little confused but interested, in a way.

“It is. Why?” She asked, suspicious. Jason smirked, looking at the ceiling.

“Before you hit me, you were in the midst of ‘feels’. Emotionally attached to fictional characters again, Y/L/N?”

Y/N groaned in annoyance before putting her bookmark and shutting the book. She hugs her book tightly as if she’s defending it and herself. “I can’t help it, Jason! They’re so perfect and I love them so much!” She whisper-yelled at him.

“But what exactly happened, though? Cliché stuff and all that or…?” Jason chuckled.

Despite him acting like he was only making fun of her, he was actually curious to what happened. He loves listening to her rambling about the story on and on. Sure, sometimes she spoiled the story for him. But sometimes, he didn’t mind.

“Well, two of the main characters, which just so happens to be my OTP, falls into Tartarus. Also known by mortals as Hell. That happens because one of them didn’t want to let go when the other falls and in results, both of them falls.” Y/N stopped to take a deep breath as she placed the book on the coffee table.

“And now they’re suffering on this hellhole, surrounded by monsters. Each second there could kill them and they have to find a way out. While doing so, they fight through hell, literal hell, alongside of each other. No matter how tough things gets, they don’t leave each other and I just got so emotional by this. So, no, it’s technically not a cliché thing.”

Y/N’s eyes was glossy the moment she finished, but she managed to let out a small chuckle. She’s sad, angry at the author for putting these characters into this situation, and last but not least, she felt embarrassed. Even she herself thinks that it’s quite embarrassing to cry over a fictional story.

She covers her face with her hands as she cries softly. Jason who was now laughing, sat up and embrace her tightly. He’s careful not to hurt her ankle or her shoulder. When he calmed down, he removed her hands from her face, and wiped her tears away.

“Hey, it’s okay. They’re two of the main characters, after all. I’m sure they would be fine.” Though Jason, also being someone who loves to read, knows that not all main characters on any kind of story, survived. He of all people would know that.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” She noted, her voice still shaking. However, her voice was laced with a hint of playfulness.

“You are correct, TEN POINTS FOR Y/H/H!” He playfully announced, still holding her on his arms. She started to cackle at him.

“You know, these people are just like us, in a way.”

“Really?” Y/N questioned him. She had calmed down from her emotional state.

“Yeah. I mean, we also suffered on a hellhole called ‘real world’ and we always fight together. No matter what.” Jason smiled, giving her a kiss on the temple.

“And we would, stupidly, hurt ourselves for each other.” He says while glancing at her and her injuries, back and forth.

“Oh you mean…” she lifts her ankle, wincing slightly. “…this?”

Jason sighed, his face full of concern and signs of protectiveness. “You shouldn’t have attacked that goon. Look where that put you.”

“The guy was about to attack you. I couldn’t let that happen.” She told him.

“I could handle him, that way you wouldn’t be the one getting hurt. It should’ve been me!” Jason argued.

“Jason, it’s just a sprain and a bullet wound. I’m fine. The point is that you and I are alive, and that’s what matters.” Y/N puts her hands on his cheek and gave him a reassuring smile. A smile that could calm anyone down. A smile that he absolutely adores.

Jason smiled back, giving her a quick peck on the lips before placing his nose on hers. “How did I find myself a girl that could be so reckless on a mission and yet cried over a book?”

“You’ve found yourself a treasure, babe. Don’t waste it.” Y/N smirked.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” He placed a passionate kiss on her lips.

They stayed like that for a few more seconds before they pull apart. Y/N puts her head on top of his chest and sighed calmly. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, until Jason broke it.

“So, are we going to read that book tonight?” He says, referring to the book she was reading.

“It’s the fourth book on the series. You sure you won’t mind?”

Jason thought about it for a moment and then he just shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

Y/N tidy up the living room first before grabbing the book and her blanket and went to the bedroom, with Jason trailing behind.

“Jason, you might want to change your outfit first.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #batfam x reader #dc #jason todd fluff #fanfic #x reader #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood x you #red hood x y/n

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paddie-ut · 4 years

Photo

Soriel Week 2020 Day 1: Dance More of a subtle reference to the prompt in this one. Yes i’m back at it with the angst on day 1. The pic is just a bonus for the real entry, which is the oneshot I wrote below the cut. You can also read it here on AO3: X (TW for implied blood, death and violence. The usual stuff that comes with references to the no mercy run)

It was cold.

It was cold when he hit the tiled floor, body rapidly going to pieces. And it was cold now. Wherever he was.

Everything still ached. Like acid eating through his bones. The pain was always strangely familiar, expected. But that never stopped it from hurting.

He curled his crimson stained mitten tighter over his ribcage, not even sure if he was facing up or down. He didn’t dare open his sockets, wanting more than anything to slip away from all this into sleep. He was so unbelievably tired.

The sounds of a small child’s body repeatedly slamming into the floor and against the walls kept swimming through his skull, ruining any chance of that. Paired with the hazy visions of a gold hallway littered with bones and awash in great stains of red, it was like a cruel joke. So much for this process being peaceful.

How long had it gone on this time? How many times had he killed them?

It didn’t matter anymore. So he wished his mind would stop asking.

With every moment that passed though, he did start to notice the cold all around was losing its grip on him. Something warm had come to combat it. Something physical… soft. Something… that smelled like cinnamon… and butterscotch?

The oddity of that alone was enough to calm the chaos of his thoughts some, and convinced him to attempt to open his weary sockets. It was more effort than expected, but he managed it.

What met his eyelights then when they were able to focus was… unexpected to say the least.

Soft scarlet eyes stared down at him, set in what seemed to be a sea of white fur. Long creamy white ears framed their face and two horns crowned their head. Strangely, there were also what appeared to be shining specks in their fur, glittering like tiny stars. Those same specks were also lazily floating in the air around them, bright and twinkling against what seemed to be all encompassing blackness in every direction.

Judging from the angle he was seeing them from, he realized they were holding him in their large arms. making him feel utterly tiny… but safe. The monster shouldn’t have been familiar, yet somehow he knew exactly who she was.

“Oh thank goodness…” She sighed with relief before smiling down at him. “I was starting to worry you may not wake up!”

He just stared up at her for a few moments, mind awhirl with questions he was too tired to focus on. But he eventually managed a weak smile.

“heh… well this is new.” Was all he could think to say, thinking aloud more than anything.

He had been expecting his brother. Surely that was who must have greeted him all the other times he’d ended up here. It only made sense. But thinking about it too much would only add a skullache to all the other aches consuming him. So he didn’t bother to question it. Worrying about the logistics of what happened in this place didn’t have much of a point.

Besides… he’d be lying if he denied seeing her didn’t stir the first positive feelings he’d felt in… gosh… how long had it been since he’d saw Papyrus’ scarf half buried in the snow at the outskirts of Snowdin? Whatever… if she was here, he must be here too.

“Greetings, my friend.” She said warmly, though her eyes were still noticeably sad. “It is I, Toriel. I know you may not recognize me, but my voice may sound familiar to you, does it not?”

“yah. nice to see you tori.” He said, finding the words oddly natural.

She blinked in surprise at that, tilting her head a bit in a way he couldn’t help but find endearing.

“Did... did you already-?” She began to question, but he interrupted her with a few shaky coughs.

“heh, don’t worry about it.” He rasped once he could speak again. “i just started connecting the dots over time, i guess.”

It was not a full lie, but not a full truth. He knew that. Though in that moment, he couldn’t have put into words just why that was. It didn’t matter anymore anyway. Not here.

She frowned, as though upset with her past self for potentially giving away her true identity unbidden. But her attention was drawn back to him as he stiffened up and winced from another wave of pain.

As much as he wanted to keep focused on her, the wound he carried that nearly split him from shoulder to pelvis was pretty darn good at demanding his attention. He squeezed the front of his shirt tighter, feeling that it was still soaked. When he shakily lifted his free hand in front of his face, he could see the splashes of dark red staining his mitten.

For some reason it made him want to laugh, but he didn’t know why.

“Do not worry, it stops hurting after a little while.” She assured him softly, giving his arm a consoling rub.

She turned her head a bit then so he could more easily see the scar on her face. A faded, but still noticeable remnant of a gash that stretched from her cheek up to under her right eye.

His breathing went funny for a moment, as something akin to a mix of nausea and anger briefly bubbled up inside him. But it wasn’t long before he forced his weary grin back into place with practiced ease.

“good to know.” He rasped, wheezing out a chuckle. “was worried i might end up as half the skeleton i used to be.”

As if on cue, she laughed that brilliant laugh of hers. The kind that all but left her breathless. And though it was strained with the heavier emotions no doubt pressing down on her, it caused his grin to grow so much it made his cheekbones hurt.

He’d missed this. He did the best to avoid chuckling in turn though, as the action would no doubt further aggravate the gaping slash through his ribs.

Once she had calmed down and returned her ruby red gaze back to him, he shook off his ruined mitten, lifted his trembling free hand to her, and gave the best smile he could manage.

“the names… sans.” He croaked out. “sans the skeleton.”

As usual, he slipped the whoopee cushion he always kept in his hoodie sleeve up into his hand. Maybe the red stains all over it kind of ruined the effect, but he saw no sense in spoiling his routine if he could manage it.

The sound of artificial flatulence sounded somehow more hilarious when echoing through an ethereal void, he found.

She burst into laughter again, and his soul felt light.

...

Shortly after, he found himself being carried by Toriel down some winding, faintly glowing path through the darkness. Everywhere her paws stepped, the “ground” glowed for a few moments in the shape of her footprint before fading away. It reminded him faintly of waterfall, if waterfall also had a bunch of sparkling stardust floating around.

At the end of the path, in what could maybe be called “the distance”, he could see a place that was glowing far brighter, like a city floating in the middle of a pitch black sea. He tried not to look at it, it only made a new pain lash out at his soul.

Instead he looked back up at Toriel, and found that she had been looking down at him too. She played it off and returned her gaze to their destination, but Sans could see the conflicted emotions in her eyes. He debated staying silent, maybe just closing his eyes until whatever came next, but the words seemed to tumble out of him without his permission.

“so... i figure you must of seen what happened, huh?” He asked quietly, feeling the dulling pain of his wound thrumming beneath his phalanges.

Her breathing stalled and she momentarily struggled to look at him. The soft scarlet of her eyes was awash with what he was worried he may see there, guilt.

“Yes… we all did.” She admitted, holding him a little closer and swallowing hard. “Y-you… you fought bravely, my friend. Please just rest now.”

In a move that was all too familiar to him, she worked a smile back onto her face and quickly changed the subject.

“Everyone is waiting for you. Your brother included. Not too far from here.” She said, motioning towards the bright place in the distance. “He is a wonderful monster, so cheery and kind hearted despite all that has happened. I can see why you spoke so highly of him.”

His eyelights must have given away the inner surge of emotions he felt at the mention of his brother, as she added to her statement quickly.

“Oh, he wanted to be the one to come get you of course…” She assured him. “But it seems that since I am among those who have been here the longest, it is easier for me to traverse this place. I… I do not fully understand it myself yet.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, seeing the logic in what she was saying and not bothering to question it further. He was in no shape to imagine how such things worked here, though there was some small part of him that still held that interest regardless. Even if he didn’t want to admit it. He couldn't help but think for a moment about how the other monsters must of reacted to Toriel, their long lost queen, suddenly reappearing to them in this place. Given the circumstances... if they knew all that had led to this... it was easy to imagine the majority of them would be less then pleased to see her.

Perhaps there was more to the fact she'd come to meet him alone than it seemed. If that was the case, and even if it wasn't, he figured the best thing he could do for her was try to keep her smiling.

“what, you weren’t just eager to see me?” He teased, wheezing out a chuckle despite his best efforts when she gave him a playful glare for it. It left his ribs freshly aching, but it was worth it.

“Well, I am very happy to finally meet you in person, my friend.” She said upon regaining her smile. “Just as I was happy to meet your brother and the others… We all have so much to talk about… and all the time in the world now to get to know one another.”

Just as quickly as it had come, her smile faltered again, and he could feel the conflicted emotions from her powerful soul radiate off her. She swallowed hard and let out a shaky sigh.

“I know… it is difficult to feel anything truly positive after all that has happened.” She said, voice noticeably trembling. “But at least… it is over now, and we will all be together. Just try to remember that.”

Sans couldn't be sure if she was really talking to him, or herself with that last bit. In any case, she kept walking, a bit faster than before. She kept her eyes on the path ahead, but he just kept his gaze fixed on her.

“right…” He responded quietly, trepidation beginning to wind tighter around his soul.

He couldn’t just keep ignoring it. No matter how much he tried to avoid the thought, it was growing like a weed and inevitably kept choking out any opposing ones.

He should keep his mouth shut. He shouldn’t say anything. He should just go to sleep and let it happen. He should spare her from this. But...

His gaze met hers again, and he felt like his soul was being squeezed.

“tori… listen…”

The words had barely left him before they both were hit by a powerful wave of... something. Strong enough to make Toriel stop in her tracks and look around in alarm. Sans didn’t know exactly what it was, but he knew what it meant. It felt like all the vitality he had left drained from him in that moment.

“What on earth was that?” Toriel asked quietly, more to herself it seemed.

“nothing good.” Sans replied, internally wincing a bit as she looked down at him in surprise.

Her gaze silently demanded to know what he meant, fear creeping bit by bit into her expression. He sighed in defeat, knowing there was no backing out of it now. He could already feel the tips of his phalanges going numb, and hear a dull whine in the far distance.

“tori, we… we aren’t gonna make it back to the others.” He said, shutting his sockets briefly.

Toriel stiffened, and he could feel the faint prick of her claws against him as they slid out of their own accord.

“Wh-what?” She stammered, clearly hoping he was setting up a joke somehow. “What do you mean?”

The hollow expression on his face no doubt banished any hope she had that this was some poor excuse for humor on his part. Even though her eyes were painful to look at then, he did his best to keep his wits long enough to explain what he could.

“tori... the stuff with the human… it goes beyond just what they did to us.” He said, ignoring the now creeping numbness in his phalanges. “they... they are causing something a lot worse to happen… i dunno what it is. but i’m pretty sure it’s happened before. i’ve uh… seen the data.”

There was no time to explain that last part, and it reminded him too much of his encounter with the kid anyway. He had to get to the point.

“for some reason… everything disappears at the end of this. and i do mean… everything.”

Toriel just stared at him in silence, mouth opening and closing but not finding any words. He could tell she wanted to argue, but surely she was feeling what was coming just as much as he did. And just as it seemed she may finally reply, another wave, stronger than the last nearly knocked her off her feet.

She staggered, clutching him tightly in an effort not to drop him. Once the initial shock had passed, her gaze quickly snapped to the lights in the distance. Sans didn’t have to look to know they’d be flickering, feeling the effects of what was coming as well. The sparkling bits of stardust around them were also winking out one by one, leaving them in further darkness every moment. It wouldn’t be long now.

It was then that it became clear Toriel wasn’t going to question things further. She didn’t fully understand, but she really didn’t need to. The idea had sunk in, as he could sense the weight of it slowly taking hold of her. Despite all her fur keeping her warm from the chill of this place, she began shivering lightly.

“i’m sorry.” He murmured without thinking, resisting a far harsher shudder of his own. “this is what happens when people like me take it easy.”

He didn’t expect a reply to that. If anything he expected anger from her, as she realized just what his failure to stop the human had truly meant. But instead it was that guilt he’d seen from her before that made itself known.

“Please, you must not blame yourself.” She implored in a dazed tone. “You... you fought so hard to stop them in the end… If anything… I am to blame for asking you to protect them…”

He closed his sockets with a soft sigh at that, all while feeling the numbness had consumed his hands and feet entirely. He considered arguing with her further, insisting his lack of earlier action against the kid far outweighed her wanting to give them a chance. But there was just no time. There were better things to focus on in what little they had.

“well... for what it’s worth… i think your heart was in the right place, y’know?” He assured her, resting the side of his skull against her slightly. “you couldn’t have known. and i doubt the other humans were anywhere near as bad as this one, otherwise you wouldn’t have given this one a chance in the first place.”

He knew he couldn’t free her of her own guilt no more than she could free him of his. But he didn’t want her last thoughts to be those of self hatred. Not if he could help it anyway.

He tried to think of some last knock knock joke, knowing it was the only real sort of comfort he could reliably offer her. Pathetic as that was. But the increasing signs of their certain doom’s rapid approach all around them kind of made it hard to come up with any decent material.

It was her who ended up speaking again first, in a surprisingly calm tone all things considered.

“Then... this is it?” She asked, her eyes growing hazy. “Why then… why were we brought here? I..."

She turned her head away, stifling what sounded like a sob.

"I never was even able... to find my children..." She croaked out, the words heavy with despair. "Wh-what was the point of any of this..?"

It was a question he could never answer. It was unlikely anyone really could. But she knew that. The question was rhetorical, but he played along anyway. If only to keep from giving into the icy fear that wanted so badly to ensnare him.

“i wish i knew...” He replied weakly, breath hitching a bit. “guess it’s just... one last dance before the curtain call.”

He meant it to be that last twinge of humor he wanted to get out. But the strain in his voice robbed it of any joviality, making it humorous in a different way perhaps, but not how he intended. Maybe if his funny bone hadn’t just gone numb as well, it would have been better.

Toriel didn’t reply for a long moment, staring at where the bright lights in the distance had once been. Now they were so dull, they were barely visible amongst the sea of black. He struggled not to think of his brother and the others, frightened and having no idea of the secondary and final fate that was bearing down on them. Or perhaps that had already claimed them.

Instead Toriel’s voice brought his wavering focus back to her, as she subtly tightened her grip on him. Her face remained impressively stoic as she spoke, even as a few tears silently spilled from her eyes.

“Will I… ever see you again, my friend?” She asked softly, looking down at him as though trying to memorize every element of his face.

The question was so raw, he wondered if she’d even meant to speak it aloud. His soul got all tight in his ribcage, and he felt what may have been long withheld tears of his own wanting to well up in his sockets. But he kept his usual smile in place all the same. If only for her sake.

Part of him wanted to lie again, to give her some last comfort before the end, but for some reason… he found he just couldn’t. Not with her looking at him like that.

“can’t know that for sure.” He admitted, giving a small shake of his skull. “we don’t have any say in what comes next. but... there’s a possibility that after everything’s gone, things might... start anew... reset, y’know?”

All of his limbs had gone numb now, and his vision blurred to the point he could no longer make out her features. Whether that was from tears or from the world’s imminent destruction, he didn’t know.

“you can be sure if we end up back at the start of all this...” He gave her a wink. “i’ll come knocking again as always.”

Those statements surely must have confused her, but the sentiment seemed to be enough that he could feel that she’d stopped trembling, and a flicker of warmer emotion emanated from her soul. Like a spark in the ever growing darkness.

“Perhaps then… there is at least a chance things will be better next time.” She said quietly, and he felt her chin rest upon the top of his skull as she held him close.

He closed his sockets and pressed a little closer to her in return, feeling his awareness starting to steadily slip away.

As much as he would have liked to, he couldn’t share her optimism. Not after this. But she spoke with that same integrity that had made him soften enough that day at the Ruin’s door to break his personal rule against making promises. And just like back then, despite everything, she was getting to him again.

As foolish as it was, he allowed himself to hold on to that possibility as the last wave hit, eradicating everything in their world along with it.

“yah… maybe next time.”

#soriel #sorielweek #sorielweek2020 #sans #toriel #undertale #my art #my fic #blood tw #angst #no mercy run

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years

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15. The Rise of the True King

Word Count: 3478 Trigger Warnings: Institutionalization, abortion, potential stand your ground related trauma + References to warnings of previous chapter

“Everyone was terrified of her. You can ask anyone who went to the academy. She was a terrorist. She would lure you with her sweet-as-honey routine, and then she’d just flip and become this monster. Everyone who’s come out about her, I think, it’s much braver than me. Because even though I was close to her, I had a little bit of leeway for a while. As long as I did what she wanted me to do, I was safe. But when I no longer wanted to do what she wanted me to do… we became enemies.”

“I think it’s very brave of you to speak out, as well.”

“I just couldn’t live with myself if I let her get away with everything that she’s done. All of the violence, the bullying and oppression. She is literally a beast. A monster. Luckily, I was able to see her for what she was before it ruined my entire life…”

Grace cried, watching the interview in which Simon was saying these things about her.

Her mom walked in and asked, “What are you watching?” she saw Simon and ordered, “Turn it off.”

“Do you think that he really believes this or is he just an excellent liar?”

Her mother turned the TV off and took the remote from her, “Doesn’t matter whether he believes it or not. All that matters is that he’s saying it and everyone is hearing him. What matters is that you brought him into our life and now he’s soiling our good name all over television and the internet and in books and whatever else his voice can reach.”

“We were best friends…”

“Yeah, you told us that one before. Funny, he doesn’t seem to remember that. Maybe it never was. Gee, I wonder if anyone at all tried to warn you to stay away from this boy. If ONLY someone would have told you that he wasn’t right for you and that he didn’t love you…”

The past few months had been horrific. It began when Grace tried to get online and check to see if anything had been said about her video or her outburst at school. She panicked whenever she saw news about a video of her trending. She was temporarily relieved when she saw that it was her and Simon out on the terrace, then panicked again, because it had just occurred to her why he was moving so calmly… Because on video, it looked like he was gently speaking with her and trying to console her when she punched him in the face and started whaling on him.

Grace Monroe is Over, Grace is Cancelled, Void Grace Monroe, and The Void were all connected to every post about her. “She’s an abuser! Poor Simon. I just want to give him a hug and brush his hair.” “I knew something wasn’t right about her. The sweet act seemed fake and manipulative and the Apex underneath her was rabid and vicious.” “Yoooo… I met her and she was so nice. This is bugging me out. WHY GRACE?” “This is precisely what I mean when I say abuse goes both ways. Girls can be abusive to boys too. I hope Simon has a good support system.”

She would have laughed if she could find some emotion other than hurt… She didn’t even know that she could hurt more after the fight, but somehow, she did. But, this wasn’t right. She had gone silent for days, but it wasn’t right that they got to spin things this way. MAYBE, she WAS a little violent, sometimes. But, she had NEVER hurt Simon, and certainly didn’t abuse him! And… she had been doing so much better. She had been checking her temper and her attacks. She had been less of a bully. It wasn’t that she wanted a cookie, but it hurt that she tried so hard to get herself away from her bad child routine, only to have her partner in crime let her be crucified this way.

She threw on some clothes, knee pads, a mask and she snuck out of her fire escape. She just wanted to talk. Maybe the paparazzi caught this on tape and went running wild with it. Maybe… her Simon was in there somewhere. She took a car and left the gates, headed for Simon’s place.

Whenever she got there, she saw that the garage was open, but it had been cleaned out a lot. It didn’t look like a workroom anymore. She didn’t know if that meant that Mr. Laurent had finally gotten closure, or was moving to a different space. But, he was there. She didn’t know how much he knew. Usually, he didn’t acknowledge much that Simon did, but who knew WHAT Simon was doing or saying at this time. “Mr. Laurent?” she said as she approached. He turned suddenly then reached for a gun. ‘WHOA!” She put her hands up. “I’m sorry. I am gonna go…”

“You came into my sacred space, destroyed the memorial for my little girl, turned my son into a monster, and you just waltz up here without a care in the world?”

“I destroyed what? Hope’s memorial. I would never do something like…”

“Never say her name again. We have a restraining order on you. Now, I suggest you leave, before I have to stand my ground.”

“I didn’t do that,” she whispered as she got back into the car. “I would never do that…” She couldn’t believe that Simon would either. She was almost ready to pray to something or someone. That must’ve been what Simon had been talking about whenever they got into that fight a couple of weeks before. He let her take the fall for that, too? Was THAT story also circulating the Internet? Her phone rang and she answered it on the Bluetooth.

“My dad called the cops on you. You really should head back home.”

“Why did you do this to me? We couldn’t just… talk it out? I know that you’re hurting. I understand that…”

“You don’t understand anything. You’ve been spoiled from the moment you were conceived. You were given everything. You never had to work for any of it. You rose to the top, and it wasn’t enough for you. You needed everybody to like you. Didn’t care whether or not I did anymore. You didn’t even notice when I started to hate you.”

“I noticed… I just thought my brain was being mean to me. You know how our brains can do that, Simon? Maybe your brain was being really mean to you to make you think that I didn’t care, because I’ve always cared about you. I came over to talk because I love you.”

“Lies.” She heard a slight waiver in his voice. Maybe she imagined it. She sniffled. “Even if I had been wrong about you, I’ve made certain that you could never look at me the same way again. I’ve done everything necessary to stop you. Nobody could still love someone after everything that I’ve done.”

“That’s not true. I can love you through anything. I always have.” She heard a sniffle on his end, then he let out a chuckle. She envisioned him dotting his finger at the corner of his eye to catch his single man tear. “Simon… let’s just meet up and talk. I’m upset, but we can still change.”

“Why would I ever want to change when I’m always right?” He asked, hypothetically. She knew that it wasn’t something that he truly believed, or at least… she didn’t think he did. It was something that she used to say to him whenever he was worried about something. She was always just saying stuff to him to make him feel better, and maybe that was his point in throwing this back in her face.

“Simon, why are you always worried about stuff when you’re always right?” she’d asked, and now she couldn’t remember the context of that question, but maybe he had a point. Maybe she was a liar, even to him. But… she didn’t mean any harm. She meant to help him. Everybody had always been so bad to him. She was sensitive. She couldn’t stand to see the boy she loved be in pain. She unfortunately had just stood there, in denial while that boy died. “I’m sorry, Simon,” she whimpered.

“Don’t be. I’ve already handled the problem myself, Void.” He hung up on her.

When she pulled back into the gates that night, the police were there.

It went from her sneaking out to “stalk and harass” Simon, to them wanting to search her room for items that they believed would tie her to various crimes. Her parents were livid, fussing at the police and calling lawyers. The police were insisting that they would wait for a judge to give them a warrant if they had to.

“Young Lady, if you have a Hope Chest with criminal souvenirs in it, the best thing to do is to cooperate with us, and maybe the judge will go easy on you.”

“I have a Hope Chest with criminal souvenirs in it,” she said. At this point, fuck it. Her life was over. She might as well go to prison too, or wherever Simon was sending her. “Simon gave me things, and that’s where I kept them. Kids always gave me things, but I’ve kept Simon’s in my chest…”

“Stop talking to them, Grace! We’re on the phone with the lawyer,” her father said and to the officer said, “We TOLD you that we were contacting our lawyer and that you were not allowed to speak to her. She is a minor and you didn’t read her any rights. Nothing that you just coerced her to say matters.”

“Am I going to jail?” Grace asked the police officer. “I’m trying to cooperate…”

The woman officer looked sad for her. The man was simply annoyed by her parents making things harder.

At the end of the night, they were able to convince the Monroes to drive Grace to the precinct to make her statement, and they were given a search warrant and Grace gave them the hope chest in question. After everything, she couldn’t believe how painful it was to let go of this. But, it was understandable too. This was years of tokens of Simon’s friendship and love (and maybe even worship). Simon had taken back everything he’d ever given her from his heart. She would have thought that would have been her breaking point.

The lawyers would have to battle to prove that all of these things were given to her and that she wasn’t associated with the crimes in question, but Simon, being the little shit he was had what was tantamount to a ledger of crimes and the souvenirs that were taken from them. Some of them Grace was present for, some she wasn’t. Simon was giving the information up, so that made him look less guilty, like she had somehow maneuvered all of it. She would admit that she was responsible for a few. But, more often than not, Simon’s temper brought on a lot of these crimes. She simply had been so fond of him that she liked that about him. They were young. It was them against the world.

But, with this new narrative of her being a juvenile delinquent and puppet master, Simon had to look even more sympathetic. How, you ask? Releasing his “journals.” Simon had notebooks full of his obsession with Grace and the things that he would do for her. While her lawyers insisted that if anything, they should prove that SIMON was responsible for these things, there were going to be doubts. Grace had been the one to establish their presence at the Academy. People hadn’t touched him because they knew that she was powerful enough to shield him. She had bent fingers back. She had uppercut Shana. She had punched Simon repeatedly on her terrace, for simply talking to her.

Her parents insisted that she tell them what they could use against him, starting with why she had attacked him on the terrace. They were getting desperate to clean this matter up. She couldn’t do it, and she knew that Simon knew that she wouldn’t. She knew that Simon knew that there was no way that her mouth would ever admit to her parents that Simon made a sex tape of her and spread it around the school. If they were going to find that out, it couldn’t be from her.

And now, still going through settlements, trying to keep her record clean, and a very emotionally disturbing trip to the gynecologist, there she was, watching him on TV, speaking about her this way. Her mother, who couldn’t even be bothered to hold her hand as she cried about having to have an abortion at the edge of 17, standing there judging her and giving her “I told you so’s.” This boy was ruining every fabric of her. He knew her from the inside out and he was ripping everything to shreds and making everybody witness it…

"We loved each other, once. The things we did for each other, with each other…”

“It is an embarrassment to our reputation and to your father and I, personally. We thought we raised you better than this. We even accepted it when you brought that common rodent into our home, into our lives, and we treated him like he was worthy of respect because you asked personally. We should have known not to listen to you. You make bad choices. You’re not very smart. You’re difficult to love. It was such a wonder that you even had a friend, that we accepted him. Even though he was nothing more than vermin… and he proved that we’ve been right not to associate with the likes of common folk. You played with your pet rat, then left him outside of his cage. And now he’s covered our name in filth. Best friend… he clearly never thought you were worth anything. The moment he found a route to success without you, he took it. Left you criminalized, brokenhearted and pregnant. We taught you better than this.”

“You didn’t teach me a goddamn thing!”

Mrs. Monroe slapped Grace in the face at that declaration. She had never been so bold before to do this. She’d usually cut Grace down with words, maybe a little force of hand. But just to slap her in the face? Never before. Then again, Grace had been infuriating for months. Not cooperating with the people trying to save her from this Simon mess, making them look bad, making terrible decisions… PREGNANT? She came crying, in the midst of a massive media scandal and a dive from high society to add to her growing criminal accusations that she spent an entire weekend letting that scarecrow impregnate her? Her mother had had it. On top of all this, she dares to curse at her and raise her voice?

But, when she slapped her in the face, Mrs. Monroe immediately regretted it. Maybe there was some truth to Grace’s accusation. Because, how else could she have fucked up this royally with such a substandard child as Simon Laurent? These were things that she thought about all in a moment’s time. Because when she parted her lips to apologize, for once for losing her temper so badly and slapping her only daughter in the face, she didn’t get the chance to speak it out loud. Instead, she met the Grace that the kids were allegedly afraid of. She had to admit, that was terrifying.

Grace roared and attacked, at this point, angry at her mother, angry at Simon, angry at herself… Mostly herself. She had lost her only friend. She wasn’t perfect. She failed him, her parents, herself… and she didn’t even have a career anymore. She didn’t even have his tokens anymore. She didn’t have… a baby… that she would have been hard pressed NOT to love with all of her heart, even coming from him. But, she knew that with all of this, there was no way that she could add, “teenage mother” and that kid probably would have been taken away from her like everything else.

Next thing she knew, she was at the mental facility. She heard them promising to take care of her. She heard them ask her parents about scheduling visits. she heard her father sternly say, "We will not be back unless you contact us to tell us you’ve fixed her.” she cried. So, now they believed in getting her help? When she was so far gone that she couldn’t think straight? or… was this just goodbye? She caused them so much distress they decided that they’d rather shut her away than ever have to deal with her failures again? She began to pace, crying profusely. She had never been this alone before… and her only comfort now was a needle that forced her to sleep.

Simon received a barrage of tags and he opened the story to see multiple publications covering Grace being dragged from her home, kicking and screaming and being brought into a mental institution. His heart stopped. His first impulse was to cry. He felt the tears creeping up, but he cleared them away fast. It wasn’t his fault she turned him against her. This was what she got for misleading him. He smirked and reposted her screaming like a demon while they tried to get her into the vehicle, with the caption, “Stop sending me this shit.”

He was closing a book deal about all of this. There had been reports of seeing Grace be concealed and sneaking to a facility where it was speculated that teenage elites go to “get rid of certain problems.” A few Apex girls admitted that it was THE go to place for a rich girl to have a quiet abortion. That was the main thing that they went there for, though a few said that it was also to confirm pregnancies before sending them off (for the more religioso types) and to “hide an attack or abuse” for the straight up monsters raising teen girls. The point was that everyone seemed to agree that there was no way that Grace was going there for anything other than handling a pregnancy however the Monroes saw fit.

On the one hand, he couldn’t imagine ever having a family with anyone else, at one point. On the other, he was rising to his true form. 17 now, and famous without her. Every publisher wanted his book. Every personality wanted an interview. Every student wanted to stay in his good graces. Colleges were looking at his situation as a survivor and a scholar, helping him transition from the break up between himself and the Monroes, and he had taken the Apex over. Grace was voided. He had won. The true king had risen, with a new vision for his future. Over time, he knew that the old dreams would fade. Her face, her laugh, her eyes, the scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth when she held him close and cupped his face, the shivers it sent through him when she lied and said that she cared, that she loved him, that she was his…

He couldn’t get close to anyone else. It just wasn’t possible. Even if he thought he could trust someone. All they had to do to make him think about her was enter his personal space, and he couldn’t have that. He dreamed about her, still. About their good times. He even sometimes thought that when they gave themselves to each other that she was sincere, that this access to her body wasn’t just another weapon that she was using to make him her slave. Because, she almost had him that weekend. He was ready to give up everything he planned to do to take her out. He was ready to submit to her again and settle for whatever warped notion of love she expected him to take.

Then, he’d remembered his vision of the void that had taken her away from him. He remembered the impending loneliness of her being the one with the power to leave him. He pushed the feeling of her body and their fake union from his mind long enough to do what needed to be done. After that, everything started falling into place.

By the time he watched the videos and some with remixes of her own songs (his favorite being one about being “Taken Away” (by love) as she was dragged off… he realized that all of his fondness of them was basically dried up. Without that attachment holding him back, his mind couldn’t even fathom how far he could go.

#If They Didn't Get on the Train #AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever - Chapter Twenty One

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Warnings: Far From Home spoilers

Masterlist

Authors Note: the final chapter is finally here. I cannot thank you enough for all the likes, reblogs, and comments. I appreciate it all so much. I’m still going to write so let me know if you want to be on my tag list for future updates. There’s a part in here inspired by Jane the Virgin but I won’t spoil it. As always, enjoy the story and thank you for reading. ❤️

The room turned back into the warehouse and the voices stopped. Peter was no longer held at gunpoint, and was instead standing in front of you with a gun aimed at your forehead. Only, it wasn’t Peter. Beck turned himself into Peter when you were distracted by the voices. Peter was tied up and gagged as he was forced to watch his own clone hold the love of his life at gunpoint.

“Get up.” Beck said sternly in Peters voice. You raised your hands up and slowly got to your feet.

“Why are you doing this Peter?” Your voice trembled. Peters heart broke at your belief that that was really Peter.

“You saw things you weren’t supposed to. Stark left me his industry. This is what I’ve decided to do with it. Spider-Man won’t be treated like a kid when he defeats an Avengers Level threat like the Elementals. You were never supposed to know. Now you better run and never tell anyone what you’ve seen today.” Beck as Peter threatened.

“Why wouldn’t I hand your ass right over to Fury?” You asked cautiously.

“You’ve seen what I’m capable of. Is that a bet you’re willing to take?” Peter asked. “I can turn myself into you and destroy children hospitals, homeless shelters, nursing homes, you name it. I can ruin you. I can make you the enemy. Do not cross me, honey.”

“This isn’t you.” You decided. This wasn’t Peter.

“You don’t know me.” Peter replied. The real Peter recognized those words from when you had supposedly broken up with him. Beck was smart, but he wasn’t that good of an actor.

“Don’t I, Beck?” You smirked.

Beck dropped the gun as a bullet went through his chest. His Peter facade melted away as he hit the ground. Peter watched as Fury came out from behind Beck with a gun. Maria Hill untied Peter and helped him down.

“Now, who else knows about Beck other than you and Y/n?” Fury asked Peter. Peter looked around for you but he didn’t see you anywhere.

“I told Ned and he might’ve told his girlfriend, Betty. That’s it.” Peter told Fury.

“And do you think Y/n is gonna tell anyone?” Fury asked.

“She’s an investigative reporter. She’s gonna tell the whole world.” Peter said proudly.

Fury laughed and looked at a device on his wrist.

“You are so gullible, Peter. And thanks to you, I have to kill a bunch of kids.” Fury said as he turned into Beck. Peter felt like he was going to throw up. He had no idea how much was true and how much had been an illusion. Were you ever there at all?

“Where’s Y/n?” Peter demanded.

“I pretended to shoot at her until she left the building. I was disguised as you, of course. She thinks you’re gonna come after her again. And, who knows? Maybe you will. Or I will. And I’ll look her in sad little eyes and kill her, all while she thinks I’m you.” Beck forewarned.

“You wouldn’t.” Peter growled.

“I will. It doesn’t matter anyway. She will never forgive you Peter. Everything I said to you when I broke up with you cane directly from her. You’ve been neglecting her for Spider-Man’s sake. And now, she thinks you tried to kill her. There’s no use fighting it anymore, Peter. It’s over. It’s all over. Laters, baby.” Beck smiled and before Peter could speak, he was hit by a train at full speed. Peter clung to the side with his bloody hands. He used all his strength to pull himself up and get on the train. He woke up in a jail cell surrounded by foreigners. Peter let himself out and asked a vender for his phone. After being told he was in the Netherlands in a town Peter couldn’t pronounce, he called Happy.

Happy had never been too fond of Peter. He didn’t understand what Tony saw in a high school kid in red and blue pajamas. But Happy also knew that when Tony trusted someone, he trusted someone with all his heart. And Tony trusted Peter to carry on his legacy after he died. No matter what Happy felt towards Peter, he knew Peter had to be something special.

“Calm down.” Happy said after Peter slammed his fist down in pain. Happy had to patch Tony up a number of times and knew how to do sutures pretty well. He just didn’t know how to make it hurt less.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Peter yelled and got up angrily. Happy was surprised by his outburst after only ever seeing the timid side of Peter, vying for approval from Tony and the rest of the Avengers. Happy let Peter vent about his struggles with Tonys death, recognizing a child in need of comfort and support. And eventually, they got to his struggles with you.

“I love her, Happy.” Peter said hoarsely. “So much. Maybe a little too much.”

“I’m sure she knows that.” Happy assured him. The conversation made him reminisce in old conversations he had with Tony about his future with Pepper.

“How could she?” Peter laughed sadly. “I never should’ve listened to Ned. I should’ve taken her on those walks and sat with her on that stupid plan. I drove her right into the arms of another man. And now, I might never get the chance to tell her how sorry I am.”

“Why wouldn’t you get the chance?” Happy asked the teen.

“Because she has every right to never speak to me again. I yelled at her and called her a cheater. I didn’t trust her or listen to her when she tried to tell me something was wrong. And now, she thinks I tried to kill her. She probably hates me.” Peter dragged his hand down his grimy face. “I can’t think about this right now. I gotta tell Fury that Beck is a fraud.”

“Fury knows.” Happy informed Peter.

“What?” Peters head snapped in Happy’s direction. “How?”

“Y/n told him someone was going around pretending to be her, Loki, and then you.” Happy replied.

“And Fury believed her?” Peter asked. Fury wasn’t one to entertain half baked theories.

“Hell no.” Happy laughed. “But then she told him you held her at gun point-“

“It wasn’t me.” Peter interrupted.

“Yeah, I know, dipshit. Let me finish” Happy said grumpily. Peter sat down and didn’t make any further interjections. “Y/n said you held her at gunpoint and started saying a bunch of crazy stuff about taking over Stark Industries. She said you called Tony “Stark” which we all know, you never do. Fury still didn’t want to believe her but she was relentless. You should’ve heard her. She swore up and down that you’d never hurt her and it couldn’t possibly have been you. She said you didn’t have a malicious bone in your body. She refused to leave until someone believed her. So, Fury did some research and found out Beck used to work for Tony. He helped design BARF. We think he’s using the same technology to create the Elementals.”

“She figured it out.” Peter whispered, eyes gleaming with pride in you. “She figured out that Beck was the bad guy and and played dumb at the warehouse so he wouldn’t know she knew.”

“There would be a lot more casualties if it weren’t for her.” Happy nodded. “We’ve got eyes on Beck now but only you can stop him. Are you up for it?”

“Yes.” Peter nodded, now filled with pure adrenaline. “But could you do me a favor?”

“Sure, kid.” Happy sighed. Peter pulled out the Black Dahlia necklace and carefully handed it to Happy.

“In case someone happens to me, could you give this to Y/n? And tell her that I love her and that I’m sorry?” Peter requested.

“What do you mean in case something happens to you?” Happy asked for clarification.

“In case I don’t live forever.” Peter said decidedly.

“Uh, what?” Happy questioned.

“Sorry. It’s a reference. You wouldn’t get it.” Peter shook his head and thought of the song you sang him all those years ago. He always came back to the song as a source of comfort. The melody always carried in his thoughts like a safety net. “Just please give it to her?”

“I will, kid.” Happy nodded.

“And make sure she knows that if I died, I died loving her and wanting her forgiveness.” Peter continued. Happy had heard enough of Peters doubts. He knew Peter couldn’t go into battle thinking he wouldn’t come out.

“You’re not gonna die, Peter.” Happy said gently. “No one is gonna let them happen.”

“I know, but, just in case.” Peter said timidly. “Can you just promise me?”

“I promise.” Happy nodded.

Happy took the necklace and tucked it safely into his pocket. He felt guilty for having misjudged Peter all those years. Peter wasn’t a just kid in pajamas. He was a good person who’d do anything to keep people safe. As Happy watched Peter crafting his new suit, he was again reminded of Tony. He saw little flecks of Tony’s personality blooming in Peter.

“How about some music?” Happy asked as Peter did his thing.

“Can I request something?” Peter asked as he slid his arm into a virtual web shooter.

“Go ahead.” Happy replied.

“Could you okay In Case You Don’t Live Forever by Ben Platt?” Peter asked nicely.

“Is there a specific reason?” Happy asked as he typed the title into the music player.

“Y/n sang it to me once.” Peter smiled in light of the memory. Happy didn’t look amused. “Please? It helps me focus.”

Happy sighed and pressed play. He watched as Peter sang along softly and sighed. He hoped more than anything that Peter would be the one to give you the necklace.

Happy and Peter split up. Peter went inside the smoke monster as Happy went to find you and Ned and Betty.

Happy found MJ, Flash, Ned, Betty, and you running down the bridge in fear of the monster.

“I need you all to get in the jet.” Happy shouted above the chaos as he tried to corral you all towards the jet.

“Who are you?” MJ asked. You nodded, also not recognizing the man.

“I’m Happy Hogan. I work with Spider-Man.” Happy announced, still trying to lead you to the jet.

“You work for Spider-Man?” Flash squeaked, still love streaming the entire event.

“I work with Spider-Man, not for Spider-Man.” Happy clarified, sounding a little offended.

“Where is Spider-Man?” You asked, careful not to call him by his first name.

“Yeah, where is he? Is he okay? Is he in peril?” Flash shoved you out of the way to get closer to Happy, desperate to know his idol was okay.

“He’s fine.” Happy assured. “But I really need you all to get into the jet.” Happy pointed to the jet right as it blew up. Happy turned back to you all and looked around.

“New plan. Everyone get in the Crown Jewels vault.” Happy shouted, pointing towards the exhibit. You all ran towards the vault as drones gunned you down.

Once inside, everyone split up and hid behind a different pillar in the armor vault. You tried to slow your breathing so the drone wouldn’t hear you and find you. Just as you thought you were in the clear, Betty knocked over a suit of armor and the drones started firing like crazy. Everyone ran into the crime jewels vault and Happy blockaded the door. The drones continued to fire at the door, leaving dents in it with each bullet and weakening it severely. Everyone knew the outcome couldn’t be good. Happy did his best to calm you down, but there was no use in telling a bunch of teenagers who were about to die that everything would be okay.

“We’re about to die and I wasted my life playing video games!” Ned confessed in a panic.

“I have a fake ID and I’ve never even used it!” Betty admitted, just as fearful.

“I post stupid videos online so people will like me!” Flash chimed in in the spirit of confessing things before you all were shot but drones.

“I’m obsessed with telling the truth even if it hurts other people’s feelings!” MJ shouted.

“I’m in love with Spider-Man’s aunt!” Happy blurted. Everyone looked at him. You knew what your confession had to be.

“We are Venom!” You yelled as you turned into Venom and punched the drone square in the center. It shattered around your fist and fell to the ground. You let out a roar and shot a web out of both wrists. They latched on to two drones on either side of you. You pulled the webs together and the drones smashed into each other, breaking upon impact. You grabbed a drone with a gun aimed at Flash and bit in in half. You smashed a drone pointed at Ned and Betty to the ground and punched one aiming at MJ. You grabbed the last drone that was about to fire at Happy and ripped in in two. You threw it on the floor and stomped on all the drones until they were nothing but dust. You turned back into yourself and turned around to face the group. You met with several stunned faces, minus Ned who already knew.

“You’re Venom?” Flash squeaked.

“No.” You blurted. Venom slinked around your neck hovered above your left shoulder. “I’m not.”

“We are Venom.” Venom smiled. Flash passed out and Happy bent down to catch him.

“How did I not notice? I notice everything.” MJ whispered, questioning her entire schtick.

“If you’ve got things handled here Happy, I have something to take care of.” You said as you spun on your heel to leave.

“Wait!” Happy called. “Take this.” He pulled a broken necklace out of his suit pocket and handed it to you. You touched the black petals with your nail and looked at him in confusion.

“It’s from Spider-Man.” Happy said gravely. Flash snapped awake.

“Spider-Man?” He asked, eyes wide. You looked at the flower pendant before racing out of the vault. You ran down the Tower Bridge until you saw Peter, clad in a new spider suit. He was limping and looked like he’d been through hell. You ran towards him as fast as your legs could carry you.

“Wait!” Peter held up a hand when he saw you. You did as he asked and stopped where you were. “Tell me something only you would know.”

“You cried after our first time and told me your ATM code.” You blurted. It was the first thing that came to mind. You remembered laughing at him as he begged you never to repeat what happened.

“What was the code?” Peter asked, still cautious and keeping his distance.

“6969.” You said seriously.

You and Peter stared at each other, panting from the chaos, before small snickers escaped both your lips.

“It is you.” Peter sighed in relief. Come here.”

You ran into his arms as he limped over to you. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and squeezed. Peters arm went to your waist and he closed his eyes as he took in your scent. It was you. Really you.

“Are you okay?” You said into his shoulder.

“I’m okay. Are you okay?” Peter asked.

“I’m okay. Everyone’s okay.” You assured him.

You pulled apart and brushed your fingertips over a bruise on his cheek. Peter leaned into your touch after being deprived of it for so long. You stared at him fondly for a minute.

“Uh, there was this sweaty guy in the jewels vault with us.” You suddenly remembered. I think he said he works for you. He gave me this.” You pulled out the Black Dahlia necklace and held it out for Peter to see.

“Oh no!” Peter gasped. “It’s broken. Y/n, I’m so sorry. I tried to give it to you earlier as a part of this stupid plan and I-“

“It’s okay.” You cut off his apology. “I actually like it better broken.”

Peter smiled in relief and stared at you again.

“Y/n, I cannot apologize enough for this trip. Everything went wrong. I’ve been terrible to you. I don’t even know why you came back for me.” Peter spoke sadly.

“Oh, I’ll always come back for you.” You said, matter of factly. “But you didn’t. You didn’t come back to me for five years.”

“I know and I’m so sorry-“ Peter tried to apologize again.

“I forgive you.” You interrupted. “I forgive you for leaving. Because even though I know it wasn’t on purpose-“

“It hurts like it was.” Peter finished, remembering Brads words.

“Yeah.” You nodded, unable to express how happy you were that he understood. You were finally making progress and telling each other what’d you’d bottled up for so long.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you about the break up. I know that wasn’t you. I should’ve trusted you when you said someone else was doing it.” Peter took your hands in his gloved ones and looked you sincerely in the eyes.

“It’s okay. Mysterio fooled everybody, not just you. And I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Loki or the snap.” You finally admitted the words to Peter.

“No, it’s okay. Fake you made a good point. There was never a good time to tell me. But is that really true? Did you really snap?” Peter asked.

“I had too. Someone needed to do it and I was the only one with nothing to lose.” You answered. You didn’t really remember that day. Snapping took a lot out of you. There were large gaps in your memory. The one thing you knew for certain was that you did it in the hopes of Peter Parker’s eyes gazing at you one last time, even if you weren’t there to gaze back.

“But you could’ve died.” Peter choked out. He had wished it hadn’t been true, and that Mysterio made that part up. Peter hated to think about you being so careless with your life when his whole life revolved around you.

“I died the day you and Venom disappeared.” You stated. “I didn’t care if I died that day too. All that mattered to me was bringing everyone back.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Peter shook his head and looked down at your intertwined hands.

“Yes you do. And I deserve you. In every version of reality, we deserve each other.” You spoke, remembering your conversation with Doctor Strange at the funeral.

“Who told you that?” Peter wondered.

“A little doctor friend of mine.” You smiled coyly.

Peter smirked at the thought of the all powerful Doctor Strange helping two kids fall in love.

“I just wish you would’ve told me all of this was happening. Venom and I could’ve helped you.” You changed the subject, but wanting the honesty to stop. If you didn’t air it all out now, you feared you never would.

“We’re always here for you, Peter. Even when we want to eat you.” Venom said as she rested comfortably on your shoulder.

“I know.” Peter sighed, ashamed of his own stupidity. “But I didn’t want to involve you after all you’ve been through. I had to do this on my own. The world needs its next Iron Man.”

“No.” You put your hands on Peters face and made him look at you. “The world needs Spider-Man.”

Peter was quiet as he though about what you said. You’d always believed in him. You made that very clear. Peter was forever grateful that he had you by his side. You never doubted him, unlike the rest of the world.

“Look, Peter.” You said softly. “I love that you’re Spider-Man. But I love Peter Parker more. And I never get to see him.”

“I know, peaches. I’m sorry for that too. Beck, uh, Mysterio told me you said I’d been neglecting you because of Spider-Man and that’s why you broke up with me. Or, why he broke up with me, as you. Is that true? Is that really how you feel?” Peter asked, scared of what your answer might be.

“Peter, I’d never break up with you because of your job. I know how important Spider-Man is to you. You love me, yes?” You asked.

“Yes.” Peter nodded, but understanding why you’d ever doubt that or need clarification.

“And I love you?” You went on.

“Yes.” Peter confirmed.

“Then that’s all I need. If you need to take some time to do some navigating or if you need some space, that’s fine. And if you have to ditch me at a four hour opera to go save the world, that’s fine too.” You laughed gently. Peters eyes became wet with tears of joy. “I’d never get mad at you for that. Yes, I wish I could see you more. But I’m not gonna solve that problem by breaking up with you. If I have to spend some nights alone because you’re out there saving the world, then, well.” You shrugged. “Whomp whomp.”

“Whomp…whomp?” Peter questioned.

“Yea. Whomp whomp.” You repeated. “I just mean, it’s not a big deal. I’m never gonna get mad at you for doing your job. You can be Spider-Man as often as you need. I’ll always be there when you get back.”

“I’ll always be there too.” Peter nodded.

You bit your lip, deciding to be completely honest with Peter. It was the only way to make your relationship last. “Will you?”

“What?” Peter asked, visibly hurt. “You don’t believe me?”

“I want to believe you.” You touched his face again. “But I’ve been having a hard time letting you back into my life because I’m scared you’ll disappear again. I can’t handle that. You’re out on the streets every night doing beyond dangerous things. You’ve been hurt badly before, just look at you now. And I’ll always be there to patch you up, but what if you don’t get back to me in time? How can I know you won’t leave again? Can you guarantee me you’ll always come back?”

“No.” Peter said simply. “I can’t guarantee that.”

You sighed and looked away from Peter, taking his words as a defeat.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll always come home. But I can guarantee forehead kisses every morning when you wake up, cups of tea when you’re sleepy, a hand to hold when you’re scared, eyes to look back at you and arms to hold you. I can guarantee you will never doubt wether or not you are beautiful. I can guarantee a lifetime of celebrated birthdays and poorly made birthday cards. I can guarantee someone to listen to your fears and your dreams and everything in between. I can guarantee an undeniable feeling that you are loved for as long as I walk this earth. I can’t guarantee I’ll always be here. But I can guarantee you all of that.” Peter spoke from his heart. He’d never had a way with words, but his little monologue left your heart glowing and knees week.

“Is that a lifetime guarantee?” You asked as you brushed a curl off his sweaty forehead.

“Absolutely.” Peter confirmed.

“No return policy?” You asked coyly.

“Nope.” Peter shook his head.

“And I don’t have to pay shipping and handling?” You pretended to gasp.

“I-what?” Peter was lost on your attempt at sounding like an infomercial.

“Then I’d like to place an order.” You ignored his confusion and continued with your bit.

“Are you 18 or older?” Peter asked, finally catching on. “If not, you’d need a parent or guardians permission.” Peter said in his best talk show host voice.

“Okay, we have to stop. I’m going to throw up on the London Bridge.” You laughed and pretended to gag.

“It’s actually called the Tower Bridge but-“

You cut Peter off with a kiss. Peter sighed against your lips and kissed you back. It’d been forever since your last kiss. You slid your hands into the curls at the back of his neck and gave them a gentle tug. Peter placed his arms securely around your waist and lifted you off the ground. Despite being surrounded by rubble and tiny fires, it was the most romantic kiss of your life. You pulled away and sighed happily.

“I love you, Peter Parker.” You said, still wrapped in his arms.

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever wrap your head around.” Peter smiled.

“You really love that song, huh?” You laughed, recognizing the lyrics.

“I do. And I really love you too.” Peters eyes suddenly widened. “I have something else to give you.”

Peter got down on one knee and pulled out the ring he had made for you with trembling hands.

“Oh, Peter.” You whispered as you put a hand over your mouth. “You got me a promise ring?”

“No.” Peter said firmly. A little smile appeared on his battered face. “This is an engagement ring.”

You couldn’t speak. You felt a completely new sensation bubble up in your chest. You put your hand over your heart to keep it from giving out.

“It was originally going to be a promise ring, but I don’t think we need that anymore. We’ve already made our promises to each other. I was gonna wait and get you the biggest engagement ring that the worlds ever seen, but you just reminded me that materialistic things don’t matter. All that matters is that we love each other. So, I hope you’ll accept this little pebble on a band.” Peter professed.

“I accept.” You took hand away from your mouth momentarily to get the words out.

“In that case, Y/n L/n.” Peter took a deep breath. “Will you-“

You dropped to your knees so you were at his level.

“Yes.” You interrupted

“Marry-“

“Yes.” You said louder, thinking he didn’t hear you.

“Can I say the words?” Peter laughed.

“Yeah, of course, sorry.” You nodded profusely.

“Okay.” Peter took another deep breath. “Y/N L/n, will you-“

“Yes.” You interrupted again.

“Let me say it!” Peter yelled with a smile.

“Sorry.” You urged him to go on.

“Will-“ he began again.

“Yes.” You face palmed. You weren’t even meaning to interrupt him. You were just so excited. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”

“Will you marry me?” Peter rushed out before you could interrupt him.

“Absolutely not!” You said as you pulled his sweet face in for a kiss. Peter kisses you back as he pulled you to your feet. You broke apart briefly so Peter could slide the ring on your finger before kissing him again.

“What’s going on? Are you pregnant?” Venom interrupted.

“No.” Peter laughed. “We’re engaged.”

“At this age?” Venom asked, sounding a little too much like Captain America for your liking. “I heard you tell Dani on the phone that Peter was at least 8.”

“I wasn’t talking about his age.” You quipped. “And we don’t have to get married right away. We can have a long engagement. Everything will be alright.” You said as Peter nodded. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and admired the ring on your hand.

“We should probably get back to the class.” Peter sighed, not ready to go back to reality just yet.

“You should change first.” You gestured to Peters spider suit. “Unless you want Flash to have a heart attack.”

“Right.” Peter laughed. “I’ll meet you there?”

“I’ll be there.” You smiled. Peter nodded and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“See you soon, fiancée.” Peter grinned as the words rolled off his tongue. He skipped in the opposite direction to go get changed. You watched him throw his fists in the air in celebration and laughed at his giddiness.

“I’d say our move to New York was a success. Wouldn’t you, baby?” You asked as you walked back to the London Tower.

“If you consider getting a child bride successful.” Venom sassed. You laughed and ran towards where you last saw Happy. You had some news to tell him.

This time around, Peter sat with you on the plane and you watched your favorite movie with his dual headphone adapter. You snuggled into his chest and felt him laughing at the funny moments. Brad watched you guys and smiled to himself a little.

Back at the apartment, you helped Peter unpack his bags. A few of his things had been blown up, but most things were saved.

“So.” You said as you slid Uncle Ben’s borrowed suitcase under Peters bed. “Who’s gonna tell Aunt May we’re engaged?” You asked as you waved your hand with the ring on it in Peters face. Peter laughed and kissed your knuckles.

“It depends on if you think she’ll fall for the “technically I’m 23 I just happened to blip” excuse or not.” Peter replied.

“It should be you. I can’t imagine she’d be too pleased when I tell her her 18 year old nephew came back from Europe engaged.” You remarked. Peter rolled his eyes in agreement before pressing another kiss to your knuckles. “I love seeing that ring on your finger. My ring.” Peter grinned proudly.

“Peter Parker, I always have, and always will be, yours.” You repeated the words you said to him when he first asked you to be his girlfriend. Peter smiled, recognizing the words. You both jumped out of your happy daze when you heard the laundry basket May was holding drop. You both looked slowly and saw Aunt May standing in the doorway, eyes trained on the ring on your finger. Mays eyes widened at the sight.

“What the fu-“

The End

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bearpillowmonster · 4 years

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Persona 5 Review (Palaces)

Now I think it’s be interesting to split up each villain and review their arcs. First is Kamoshida, I like the layout of his palace. Sneaking along the walls and such and they really give you the drive to get rid of him. This is one of the only ones I actually got all the will seeds, I found that you only get the accessory if you collect the three, I don’t think there’s any bonus for collecting ALL of them from ALL the palaces though.

After that, they introduce something called Mementos which is basically everybody’s palace, a compilative place of where small distortions go that aren’t big enough for their own palace. This is kind of used for side missions, it’s not that bad though, the dark sections can be annoying but I see why they were put in there. You visit it throughout the game and after each boss, a new section gets added, going farther down. This is also one of the places to grind and a quick way to grind is to mow down enemies with your van using the dash button, rather than going through the trouble of battling, you even get their mask. That’s only if they’re not too far down though because the farther down you go, the tougher the enemies. It’s funny because once you get tough enough, going to the higher entrances, making enemies RUN from you while you’re mowing them down, it’s a blast. I will recommend though that you don’t piss off too many and get alarmed because they’ll come in waves, one battle after another and if you’re deep in Mementos, it can be scary.

Next is Madarame, I like the setting of a museum and the boss (better than Kamo) but I will also say that it was annoying to traverse, it built upon the urgency by adding legal action into the mix. This is probably in my top 3 palaces, I just don’t have a whole lot to say about it.

Kaneshiro (sounds like Kamoshida) I feel like his character is very one way, an easy prey, I’m fine with that but I’m just saying that the depth was better for the previous two. The boss isn’t exactly my favorite, it’s a little different between 5 and Royal so I looked it up and am accounting for both of them. I do however like the style of the bank and the vault is one giant lock, the enemies are probably some of the most annoying though with the introduction of the dogs.

Alibaba. Now this palace is actually pretty cool because it changes the context and way you do things, again with the real life interference as well. What I really like are the little hieroglyphics puzzles at the end of each section, those things are my jam but while I appreciate the variety and setup, this was one of the weaker palaces. The boss was weak as well, more of just a sponge unless I didn’t play it right (maybe I was underleveled? I mean I don’t think I even died tbh though) because it was really cool when you used the arrows but really dragging when she was in the air.

I will say that I took a break after this arc (about 35-40 hours in) not because I was tired of it, far from it actually, I was having tons of fun but traversing the palaces just seemed off to me at this point so I thought if I took a break and got a fresh perspective when I came back, it would be better. It was hard to detach myself from it because I really enjoyed what I had played thus far but it felt good to get back into the groove of it after a break. This was both a good place to take the break given the hours spent and what the next palace is, and kind of a weird place because after Alibaba you take the field trip but I would still recommend you take a decent break at some point because...

The next palace is Okumura. Now I’ve seen some flack about this one, saying it’s the least favorite of the bunch, so you don’t want to have the previous build up of hours hamper your experience since it’s considered the worse. Honestly I don’t think it’s that bad (the palace!) now the boss on the other hand is a different story, I understand that a CEO is only as good as their employees and the idea to use them is pretty reflective of the palace itself but it’s annoying because if you don’t have the right type of persona then you’re screwed because they just flee or blow themselves up, it’s just left to chance sometimes. I think it would be cool to have a race against him with the timer rather than a battle. It made me so stressed, not because of the timer but because of the stupid robots, it was easily the battle I spent the most tries on, I even had to go back and grind and fuse a new persona to finally beat him. (I was almost level 40 so you might have an easier time if you did more persona work than I did) but you don’t get any All Out Attacks either apparently. Also the story (though a bit nit picky) is easy to complain about but it’s not as bad as they say imo especially since the characters explain themselves afterwards.

Casino Master. This was probably the only spoiler I got for this game but I feel I would’ve figured it out anyway and it didn’t even turn out to be that big of a spoiler. Also the addition of the “Crow” should’ve been the “Raven” as an Edgar Allen Poe reference, it would’ve fit the character better in my opinion. I don’t like that they use the same card mechanic from the last palace, it makes more sense with this one but still. There’s an enemy in this palace that was bugged for my play through and it was only that specific enemy whenever I encountered them, it would say something like “it’s groaning” (which it sometimes does with enemies such as Regent) but for this one it just kept doing it and would get stuck, I just had to button mash a bit and then they would attack normally but just a small stain I’ll point out, easily patchable I’m sure. As for the story, I’m not quite sure what makes the palace in the first place, what is the distortion exactly? Other than that, another in the top 3.

The boss is actually kind of cool, in a way it’s the opposite of Okumura but an actual boss instead of enemies. It’s probably my favorite because of the design and style. I’m not done yet but honestly when I got about 1/3 of the way through this game, I thought it was a 5/5 but I re-evaluated and the one thing that I want is a bit of gameplay variety even if it’s just the bosses. I’ve talked about this before but it makes everything feel samey and while I know more or less all turn based RPGs are guilty of the same thing (so I can’t really hold that against this game) this one just seems so different. It doesn’t wear itself out, for turn based, it’s not so bad but it just leaves you desiring one extra step, an extra something everytime to say “This is the fourth-fifth-sixth boss!” rather than just chip damage with no weaknesses, some kind of reward for playing the way you do perhaps.

Armstrong from MGS Rising (yeah I didn’t have a codename for this one). I really like the setup, probably the best palace to be honest, in a way it’s sort of a compilation. I could see where people could complain about it even if I haven’t seen anything. This palace also has the best music, it’s very fitting and stylistic. There’s a little bit of a barrage of mini bosses throughout, I kind of like it but the last one before the big boss is tough because it’s 3 different sections, one after the other but it’s kind of a tease/warning to say “Are you really ready for the real boss? If you had trouble with this, then you’ll have trouble with him.”

Let's talk about the final final boss (for what’s known as the ‘true’ ending route) because I apparently did the ‘true’ ending after looking into it, it doesn't matter who you picked for a romantic route, it matters what choices you made at certain points in the game, the ‘true’ ending is just the longest, there are different points in the game where it could end and be the other good/bad endings so yeah. Let me talk about it without spoiling anything, Notice I said ‘true’ with quotes. I'm going to summarize this reddit post I saw, justifying it, out of context. The boss is idolized, he's made by the people, he didn't make the people and because he's pretending, we were sent to destroy him. (In the grand scheme of things (story-wise)) because it bothers me that they make him out to be almighty. It is a persona and personas are figments of imagination, they're amalgamations of how the characters perceive their desire/distortion, not the real thing therefore it shouldn't be blasphemous right? That thin line is what's making me knock this game a little more because its material is so concerning. Also you’re stopping people from doing bad things, that’s ‘just’, correct? You’re defeating the seven sins, that’s ‘just’ (at least that’s what the will seeds are called). I guess they wanted to try and make it a true question “Are the Phantom Thieves ‘Just’?” They ask it over and over and in reality, I ask myself the same thing.

You can buy as seen on tv stuff, the big thing I’ll say helped me was the cleaning spray so snatch that up when it becomes available, I think it’s also available in Kichijoji but it lowers your enemy’s defense and I didn’t have that move for any of my characters. Make sure you have everything done that you want done by the time you reach the final date after sending the calling card and beat the boss such as confidants, a proper persona, side quests and a good amount of stat boosters and stuff. I can't say too many specifics on what to bring because you're going to play different than I did so just fill in the blanks, have cans of whatever you don't have as a move because it's going to be a stretch of fights and there really isn't room to turn back.

#persona #persona 5 #bosses #palaces #true ending

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geek-gem · 4 years

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I’ve Rewatched Joker 2019

It’s my 2nd time seeing it before it could possibly make a billion dollars, and I was by myself this time. I did make a tweet about it and took a while to start making this. Because after seeing it a 2nd time. I wanna give a more in depth thoughts on the film itself. Especially after this month I’ve reblogged a lot of stuff about it. It’s been on my mind still and still for a month.

This is gonna be my honest thoughts and I’m glad I saw it again. Especially this time it’s more clear to me. Also no spoilers here because I wanna be careful of spoiling anything to any followers who haven’t seen it.

Also a funny but amazing thing because I thought it was 4:40 but it was 4:30 pm for it to come on. I got in a minute before the movie started which was amazing.

Just like I said on Twitter. Joker 2019 is one of my favorite films. But also one of my favorite comic book related or comic book inspired films. I’ve been listening to the soundtrack(Mainly the main theme and the bathroom dance music) non stop in a way. Including right now I’m listening to the main theme right here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxRHyRXqkSc

Joker 2019 is truly one of my favorite movies this year. Maybe my favorite possibly. It is like I’ve said before a brilliant piece of a film making.

The acting, the score, and the writing as well. Many things really shine from this film. Basically I feel the same way Film Gob feels about it in this video or so. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PH8Cw-Zd13g

It is a dark and tragic film. But not just that, in a way it is also a thoughtful, and quite a mature film. Especially because it deals with it’s themes quite maturely and other things. Including it even felt emotional. While I didn’t shed tears at certain parts, I wanted to. Because the film does feel emotional during Arthur’s journey into becoming one of the most iconic villains in comics and pop culture. Including Batman’s arch nemesis.

While it may have only used The Killing Joke as a basis but mainly 1970′s character studies from Martian Scorsese were the inspiration for this film. But the film to me feels like it is a Joker movie. This version can definitely be how the Joker could of ended up of how he is. Besides to me personally if you want more comic accurate versions in live action. I’d recommend Jack Nicolson and Heath Ledger and just watching films like Batman 1989, and The Dark Knight. Because those two to me represent the Joker quite well if we are going with more comic accuracy. Despite some changes but it depends on how you view them.

Including I have mentioned before. I like the Joker, but before this film I wasn’t the biggest fan of him. There is nothing wrong with him as a character he just didn’t appeal to me at first. Also I know before seeing this I was praising Jack Nicolson as Joker Batman 1989. It’s just I was more of a fan of villains like Bane and Scarecrow(Which I still am) from the Batman mythos.

Yet this film got me to appreciate the Joker as a character. Which sounds kind of crazy. I basically like him even more. It is probably because of Joaquin Phoenix’ s acting as Arthur Fleck. I do praise other actors such as Heath Ledger(Another one of my favorites), Jack Nicolson, Mark Hamill, Troy Baker, and whoever else. But I feel like how many who praised actors such as Heath Ledger and Jack Nicolson with their takes on the character.

Joaquin is basically I guess is one of those interpretations I keep thinking about is the Joker. What I’m trying to say is like how in 2008 Heath was Joker to a lot of people. In a similar way Joaquin feels like my Joker of my generation. Which may sound just weird and stupid. Despite to me this is kind of like a prototype version of the Joker because this is his origin. Yes I know about the theories and what I’ve read. Yet let me keep talking.

it was mainly because of the humanity that Joaquin brought to the character compared to other versions. Including I hope people don’t hate me for saying this. During the first time of seeing the movie and even this time. Kind of like how Ping Pong Flix said. This story feels like Joker or Arthur is the hero of his own story. I felt happy for Arthur when he did the things to the people he thought that deserved it. Even towards the end and I don’t wanna spoil anything. All leading up to his transformation into the Joker.

But that’s also tragic, Arthur was a man who needed help. You felt sad for him, you wanted to help him. But society kept throwing him away and other things. A weird comparison I wanna make is to Jason Voorhees from the Friday The 13th franchise.

You can feel sad for them, feel sympathy for them. But you can’t help them. Because they’ve gone too far. Where this may seem harsh. The only sort of peace they can have is probably death. I always wanted to mention that about Jason. Unless I did already.

Basically you don’t want him to be become the Joker and whatever else. Yet it’s gonna happen and what people have talked about. The film is kind of like a countdown(Especially if you listen to the soundtrack) to just Arthur just snapping and becoming the Joker.

I also wanted to mention what I took away from this film. Including I wanna mention in that post I talked about the possibility this film could make a billion dollars. I wanted to see this again before it could happen. Basically contribute to it more as well when I think about it.

But I edited this part out because it seemed too personal. This film made me realize I’m a pretty good person. That sounds weird but some stuff about my self esteem but don’t worry about me.

Yet the big take away and the point of this film. Or how I see it. From what I’ve read and heard from Joaquin Phoenix yet I think I should mention Todd Phillips because I thought he said something like this too. It depends on how you view the film. I do feel like that is a double edged sword but I can be okay with that.

The point of what Joker 2019 is trying to show and from what I’ve read, a lot of people have thought this too. Is that society should be concerned and just more nice to people who don’t have it all. Have some empathy towards other human beings, and what I have thought or so.

Just be fucking kind to people.

Basically don’t be cruel and other things. Or else and what Todd Phillips has mused about this movie of more Jokers after Arthur. If society doesn’t change of how it is. Your gonna be multiple Jokers that were like Arthur Fleck.

I also wanna say that’s why I was surprised in this reblog I made finding out that in 1980 this whole heath department thing that happened with Regan or whatever. Which made me realize no wonder this film takes place in 1981. Also other reasons as well.

Including there is also the fact Arthur had a choice with the things he did. Yet just be considerate towards others. Just show some humanity or like the film showcases you might get what you deserved.

I just wanna say my favorite scene of the entire film or one of them. Yet it’s a scene I like and I don’t wanna spoil anything. It’s the scene with Arthur/Joker on the Murray show. The final act of this movie this third act I love. it’s a payoff and the conclusion of everything that’s happened.

The point is I seriously loved this film. I want more DC Black movies like this. Whether characters studies or whatever. But character studies is probably something I might like more.

Yet also because I have talked about this before. I know this film is a stand alone it’s meant to be that. But with the talks from Joaquin and what he’s said. I want to see this version of Joker again, I want to see Arthur Fleck.

But I do realize the problem with that. Because if a sequel happens, it might ruin the theories and the unique thing about what the film set up to be. I think I also wanna see more because I loved watching Joaquin as this character so much. That I don’t want him to go away yet.

I have thought of a sequel idea. It’s been in development and it’s well fan fiction. But to me as I look at it. I have talked about it before. Yet to me it feels like it’s part, “This is a Oscar winning film” similar to Joker. But it’s also part comic book and well I’ll say this super hero film. Which might bother people who loved Joker 2019 so much.

Mainly it’s the addition of too many characters I feel. Especially with certain references. But the whole point of it being while it feels like it’s the third part of a trilogy. My sequel idea so this doesn’t turn into a franchise but the DC Black Label can be a franchise thing focusing on different characters. My story idea bring a conclusion to Arthur Fleck and his journey as Joker. A epilogue for him that has Batman/Bruce Wayne as a main character as well. Both being the points of view of this story. A proper send off to Arthur Fleck as Joker.

In a well epic but deep way like the line, “This is how the Batman died” from Batman Arkham Knight. It’s a story of how the Joker died.

I've rambled on too long. I really wanted to talk about this movie. I also wanna talk about in another post of what were my predictions of what I thought was gonna happen. Especially during my viewing of the film. There were three young girls to the left while they did talk a bit and laughed at a certain part. They seemed alright but I seemed bothered or whatever. Also a couple left during the movie, I thought I heard a child but I think it was the lady.

Including there was this mom and her kid. He seemed to be a preteen or young teenager. They left but many minutes later they came back for the third act . It was weird.....I don’t like seeing the fact children or possibly young children watched this. Sorry I’m sounding weird like because it’s R rated. Unless they know how to process it. I’m glad it wasn’t a younger kid.

Also I felt it was cool seeing a guy who his mom and dad it seemed. They were big and the dad asked was it good, I told him it was very good and it was my 2nd time seeing it. That it was still very good or whatever. Hope they enjoyed it. I saw them after I was leaving the theater room I was and the son was holding the door opened.

That’s something I wanted to say. Especially my Uber driver who took me to the theater saw it and liked, and my Uber driver who took me home heard about it and I told him it was very good, and that it was my 2nd time. Again rambling just little moments.

Hope you folks don’t mind my big post about this film.

#joker 2019 #joker #Arthur Fleck #joaquin phoenix #Todd Phillips #dc black label

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falseroar · 5 years

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Anniversaries Part 2: One Day, Many Surprises

((Link to Part 1: The Best Laid Plans. As a side note, I wanted to say something about how the Host is depicted in this story but put it in the end section because it does contain spoilers for this part.))

“Come on, you must want to do something for your birthday.”

“The Host is fine with a quiet day to himself. As the Host has told Markiplier multiple times, his anniversary is just another day for him.”

Mark bit back a sigh as he stared down at the ego, who sat on the edge of his bed, hands folded, head tilted down as if just patiently waiting to be left alone.

“Fine, but if there’s something you want to do or somewhere you want to go, just speak up. Tomorrow’s your birthday, you’re allowed to be a little selfish.”

The Host did not respond. He knew that Mark meant well, but the sentiment was spoiled when he could sense the guilt running through the other man. Remembering dates just wasn’t something Mark was good at.

Mark looked around and took in the other bed, half of it covered in mechanical parts and cables. “You’re sure you’re okay with sharing a room with all of the androids?”

“The Host is only sharing a room with the Googles, and they do not need to charge all at the same time. Bingiplier is using the outlet in Chase Brody and Marvin the Magnificent’s bedroom as needed. He has found that they are less likely to unplug him during a recharge than some of the other egos. This situation is more preferable to the Host than sharing with the alternative, as Ed Edgar tends to snore in his sleep.”

Mark decided not to push it. It felt like a miracle that they’d been able to find a house big enough to fit all of them for a couple of nights. Well, “miracle” might not be the right word, considering who had found it.

When Dark showed the place to him a couple of days ago, the first thing Mark had commented on was the number of bedrooms.

“It was the largest one I could find that afforded some privacy,” Dark had said, misinterpreting his comment. “Most of us will have to double up, but it should do.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what you had to do to rent this place,” Mark said as they finished their walk through of the house.

Dark rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, I just took care of the previous occupants in a way to make sure there would be no police report. In an unrelated note, no one is to go into the attic while we are here.”

He saw Mark’s expression and added, “That was a joke. This is an old house, I came across it decades ago. It just took the right calls to have it ready in time for us.”

Just as Mark started to relax, Dark added as an afterthought, “But seriously, go into the attic and I will flail you alive.”

The Host shifted, bringing Mark back to the present, and said, “The Host will keep Mark’s offer in mind.”

Mark nodded, figuring that this was the most he could hope for, and walked out of the room. The Host waited until the door closed before he repeated Mark’s words aloud, “’A little selfish’…”

Easier said than done.

He sighed. He wanted, more than anything, to be surprised tomorrow instead of knowing exactly how the day would go. The egos, not meaning anything by it, might remember to say something over breakfast, but as the morning went on, they would forget about him. Mark would go out of his way to get a gift for the Host, which would be appreciated but not necessary. If he were truly fortunate, he might have a few hours alone in the house while the others went outside to enjoy the beach and fresh air, time that he could spend reading or otherwise occupied until they returned and he went back to quietly narrating in the corner, waiting for the day to finally end.

A day like any other for him, just in a different location.

---

His first surprise came in the form of a knock on the bedroom door, so early in the morning that his narration told him it was still dark out. He startled but made no move to open it as he knew one of the Googles would get there first. He only turned at the sound of your voice and said, “Y/N is awake early this morning. Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing like that,” you answered as the red-shirted Google stepped aside. The Host could just barely sense your relief at the sound of his voice in the midst of the blur of conflicting mental images that made up you in his narration, as hard to read as ever. “I know you’re always up early, and I wanted to see if you’d like to watch the sun rise together.”

“The Host would enjoy that,” he said as he stood and crossed the room, narrating quietly to himself as he stepped over charging cables and around the blue-shirted Google sitting up against one of the walls, body unusually relaxed and at ease while he charged. “The Host knows of a place, if Y/N is up for a short walk.”

“Sure,” you said, and then after a second of hesitation looked at the Google at the door. “Uh, sorry, I should have asked, do any of you…?”

“We would prefer to avoid the beach,” the Google answered flatly.

Was that another flash of relief from you? The Host wasn’t sure, but you and the Googles did have a less than stellar history together. “While Googliplier is water-resistant to a certain point when properly prepared, the salt water is especially corrosive to their inner workings.”

“And don’t even get me started on the sand,” Google muttered. “Bing is going to be venting that stuff out of his systems for weeks.”

Google closed the door behind the Host, and together the two of you walked down the halls, both trying to be quiet to avoid waking any of the others.

“I kind of feel guilty having a room all to myself when everyone else has to share,” you admitted when you made it downstairs and pulled open the sliding door that led out on to the back porch.

“Y/N was also given the smallest room and the only one with a single bed, so the Host believes it worked out for the best.”

Outside, the air was warm and still, a spattering of stars still up in the sky but already fading with the growing light. The Host took in a deep breath of the salty breeze blowing in from the west and realized that he hadn’t been outside since he first arrived yesterday.

“Do you not like the beach?”

The Host also realized that he had been narrating out loud again.

“The Host had other things on his mind at the time,” the Host said, well aware that he was avoiding the question. He turned and pointed as he said, “The place the Host is referring to is just down that way.”

He led the way down the stairs and turned left before reaching the beach proper to follow a trail you had missed in the daylight. It took the two of you away from the house until it was hidden by the rise of the land, and then up a sandy hill. The Host struggled here, his feet sliding on the quickly shifting sand, until you offered your hand. Together, you half-walked, half-pulled each other up to the top of the broad hilltop, where the Host had to stop to catch his breath before he could speak again.

“From here, Y/N should be able to see the sun just as it rises over those hills.” He pointed and added, “The Host thanks Y/N for thinking of them this morning. He does not get out as often as he should.”

“Well, today is your anniversary,” you said, and he could hear the smile in your voice. “And I wanted to do something special for you.”

“The Host…” The Host paused, one of the few times he was uncertain of what to say, and you continued as if afraid to stop, as if you had lost track somewhere of what you had planned to say next.

“That’s why I—Marvin, he gave me this—”

And you pressed something into his hand, a piece of fabric that seemed to buzz with energy when it touched both his hand and yours for just a brief moment, followed by a pressure around his eyes.

You stopped to take a breath and said, “I meant it when I said I wanted to watch the sun rise with you, Host.”

Slowly, as if in a daze, the Host reached up and began to unwind the stained bandages, his fingers fumbling because he hardly dared to narrate his own actions. Before they were fully off you were speaking again, quickly, nervously.

“I’m sorry, I wanted it to be a surprise, but I know I should have asked first, and it will only last for 24 hours—”

The Host blinked, aware of the growing light as for the first time in years his eyes attempted to focus on his blurry but growing clearer by the second surroundings, aware of the scars that stung in the fresh air but no longer bled, aware that the brown in his damaged eyes glowed gold with the magic, however temporary it may be.

Aware of the brief surprise that crossed your face before he pulled you into a hug.

“I’m sorry it’s only for a day,” you said into his shoulder and it was all the Host could do not to laugh.

“The Host thinks Y/N should stop apologizing long enough for the Host to thank them,” he said, blinking away tears, his first real tears in he didn’t know how long. He did not notice the handkerchief in your hand, folded so that it resembled a blindfold, or how you ran your thumb over it as if feeling the magic that had affected you both before tucking it into your pocket.

Together, you sat down on top of the hill and watched the sun rise. The Host’s narration seemed to fail him as he took in the colors spreading across the land, the way the light shifted and changed as the sun rose, as it hit the face of the friend beside him that he was seeing for the first time. A face to go with the you he thought he knew, but could still so easily surprise him.

---

The Host’s second surprise came later that morning, when you and he finally made your way back down to the house. There, you found Jack, Mark, and most of their egos eating breakfast. The dining room table was almost full, but many of the egos were happy to sprawl out and eat just about anywhere.

A few of them glanced up when the two of you entered, but it was Dr. Iplier who stopped mid sentence and stared as you found seats at the table.

“Host…Your eyes…”

The Host was used to being less ignored and more treated as background noise by the other egos, so to suddenly have all eyes on him, to have everyone actually listening as he explained that you and the magician had, however temporarily, restored his sight, was almost as overwhelming as when they all began to speak at once, all full of ideas on how the Host could spend his day.

The Host glanced at Mark, who gave him an encouraging nod, and cleared his throat before he said, “The Host—I would like to spend some time on the beach after breakfast.”

He spent most of that breakfast with his narration silent, his focus on studying the people around him. Some of the egos were so new that they had never even heard of the Author; others he now had to readjust his mental image of to match the small subtle ways they had changed over the years. As he looked around, he couldn’t help but notice the two people very conspicuously missing.

At some point it occurred to Bim that the Host probably didn’t have anything comfortable to wear out on the beach, and as soon as the Host finished eating, he was being dragged upstairs by his fellow egos for a change of clothes.

“I should—” you started to stand up as you spoke, but stopped when Jack spoke at the same time.

“I thought there wasn’t a spell to return the Host’s vision.”

He was looking at Marvin as he spoke, who sank a little in his chair as he answered, “Well, we were hoping to find something permanent, remember?”

“And Marvin just found this spell not long ago,” you added. Mark and Dr. Iplier were also looking suspicious, so you said, “It was my idea not to tell you guys, so that it could be a surprise. The Host doesn’t ‘read’ the Septic egos as often as the others, so he wasn’t as likely to notice if they were the only ones who knew.”

“It just sounds awfully convenient,” Mark said.

You didn’t look at any of the Septic egos, for fear that one of them would give it away as you answered, “It’s only for one day, Mark. Let him enjoy it.”

“I’m not trying to…” Mark paused and looked to Jack for help.

But it was Dark, standing in the doorway listening, who responded first. “The problem is that there is always a price to pay for something like this. You should know that better than anyone, Y/N.”

You were temporarily distracted by the sharp sound of Jack inhaling, and saw his eyes widen as it clicked. He started to speak but it became a yelp as a “careless” gesture from Dr. Schneeplestein knocked his coffee off the table and straight into his lap.

“Ooo, that’s not good,” Jackieboy Man said, pulling his creator up to his feet where you could all see the dark stain spreading. “Quick, we should all go into the kitchen and help you take care of that right now.”

“It’s fine, Mark,” you said once Jack had been ushered into the kitchen by all of his egos in the most suspicious exit ever. You might have considered telling Mark now that Jack had already figured it out, but after what Dark just said you weren’t about to explain yourself in front of him. Besides, you told yourself, Mark would just worry, and Dark would only take advantage of the situation.

“We’ve gone over it, and we can handle it. Just trust me on this, okay?”

Dark’s eyes flashed angrily a minute later, after you had left the room. “You’re just going to leave it at that? You know they’re hiding something!”

“Of course they are,” Mark said. “I’m not an idiot, but neither is Y/N. They know what they’re doing. I just…”

He let the thought trail away without finishing it, partially because he didn’t want to admit in front of Dark that he wished you would just be more willing to ask for help when you needed it, but also because only a minute or two later he heard you calling down the stairs before you returned to the dining room.

“Mark,” you said with the tone of someone trying very hard either not to laugh or not to yell. “Yesterday, when you said ‘we packed a bag for you’, who exactly packed my stuff?”

“Uh…” Mark looked at Dark, who shrugged. “What, is it not in your room?”

“Oh, it’s there. I just want to know who picked out my swimsuit.”

“You have a swimsuit?”

“No, I don’t,” you said, gesturing down to the shorts and shirt you now wore. “And if I did, it wouldn’t just be a couple of strings and a hope. So where did that thing in my bag come from?”

Mark opened his mouth, considered, and said, “That’s a fantastic question. Dark?”

Dark also took some time to consider the common knowledge among all of the Iplier egos, which was that if no one was going to confess to something, there was really only one obvious answer.

“…Kinkiplier.”

The Host’s third surprise for the day was just how loud you could yell when you really wanted to, but that came as a shock to all of the other egos who were also on their way down the stairs, alongside how they could, without a single word among them, agree to get out of the house with a silence that would have shocked the three in the dining room if they’d bothered to notice.

His next surprise was more subtle, one that came to him at some point as he stood waist deep in the water, bracing himself for the next wave to hit while nearby Jameson, Chase, Silver Shepherd, and Yandereplier were hitting a large inflatable beach ball around and trying to keep it from touching the water. It was that, in all of the ways he saw today going, he hadn’t imagined himself out here with the others. It wasn’t only because, without his sight, the unsteady sand was difficult to navigate and he didn’t dare to go into the water for fear of going out too far or being knocked down by a wave he couldn’t sense coming in time.

He knew yesterday that if he simply asked, you or Mark or one of the other egos would have been willing to lend a hand or keep an eye out for him. It’s that the thought never crossed his mind to actually do it, to just spend time with the others and enjoy the moment.

The Host reached out with one hand and bapped the ball as it strayed his way, sending it over Chase’s head and into Yan’s waiting palm, and before long he found himself drawn into the silly, pointless game that would inevitably lead to everyone trying to splash each other until a wave caught the Host off guard and sent him tumbling over into the water. He sat up, coughing, and Silver barely had time to laugh before another wave knocked him over with the power of karma.

By the time he returned to shore, the Host was absolutely soaked, water dripping from his clothes and hair and sand sticking in unfortunate places, and when you looked up from helping the doctors to bury Jack in the sand you shared his grin.

Later, as he showered to wash away the salt and sand, the Host gave some thought to how he wanted to spend the rest of his day.

It was okay to be a little selfish, Mark had said.

He was so focused on that thought that he forgot to narrate on his way out of the bathroom and so ran into yet another surprise for the day:

Wilford Warfstache, standing outside the door to his room with a wrapped gift in one hand and his other raised as if to knock, a gesture so foreign to the man that he seemed to have stalled in the process.

Except, even as the Host watched, Wilford lowered his hand and rubbed his eyes.

“Wilford?”

Wilford spun around and broke into a smile, but the Host could see his dark brown eyes were a little too bright as he said, “There you are! What are you doing, hiding on such a special day?!”

The Host started to answer but stopped himself. He had difficulty sensing Wilford on a normal day, same as you, but he could feel the hazy mix of a hundred different emotions and thoughts swarming around the man, some flitting by too fast to read, others lingering just long enough to leave an impression before being drowned out by another. At first it felt random, but then he realized that the strongest ones were repeating, each lasting a different length of time but always giving way to the next.

Fear.

Guilt.

Shame.

Hope.

And back around again.

“The Host missed Wilford at breakfast this morning, and outside with the others.”

“Well, turns out wrapping is harder than it looks!” Wilford said. “The paper, the tape, the scissors, the knife, and then you need even more paper, but, well, I think the results speak for themselves.”

He handed the Host the present, a box wrapped in at least ten different styles of paper, somehow all clashing with each other and with the bright pink bow stuck on top. The Host took the gift gently, concerned both because it looked like it could fall apart at any second and because with Wilford there could be literally anything inside the box.

“Well, open it, open it,” Wilford said, and when the Host started to pull off the paper added, “Come on now, we’re not going to save the paper! Tear it off!”

The Host ripped away the paper to find a box significantly smaller than the original present. It was a pair of over the ear headphones, professional, high-end quality. Much nicer than anything the Host would have picked out for himself.

“Your old pair looked like they could fall apart if someone were to maybe pick them up and try them on just for fun one night, really not sturdy at all,” Wilford said. “Who needs those things?”

“Thank you, Wilford,” the Host said. “The Host…honestly didn’t expect you to remember his birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?!” Wilford threw an arm around the ego’s shoulders. “We should go out on the town, really make a night of it, if you know what I mean.”

“The Host…appreciates Wilford’s enthusiasm,” he said, struggling to breathe under Wilford’s grip until he managed to slip free. “But the Host already has plans for tonight.”

He hesitated and added, “But the Host is open to doing something with Wilford another night. Within reason.”

“Ah, always a catch,” Wilford said, but he grinned at that. He turned to walk away and stopped to look back at the Host. “You look different today…Did you do something with your hair?”

The Host blinked at Wilford and said, “Perhaps Wilford means the Host’s eyes?”

“…Nah, that’s not it. Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.”

Wilford walked away, humming to himself, and the Host chuckled to himself as he looked down at the boxed headphones.

Later that afternoon, after some time with the other egos, the Host found you in your room, going through your bag in case there were any more surprises in there. “The Host…has a request. He—I was hoping to go into town, if Y/N would like to join me. There is a theater not far from here, and…”

And the Host enjoyed the idea of watching a movie, really watching it and not relying on an audio description device that clashed with the narration constantly running through his mind out of reflex in an unfamiliar place. And, when you were more than happy to go with him, he enjoyed being able to walk without straining to read ahead, without accidentally reading the lines of the people who passed on the sidewalk, without the stares directed at the bandages around his eyes.

Just being able to spend time with you, outside of the house, without worrying or his attention spread in a hundred different directions at once.

After the movie, and wandering up and down the streets and in and out of the stores for fun if not to buy anything, the Host had one last place he wanted to go before heading back. To your surprise, the destination turned out to be a coffee shop just a few streets away from the house.

“Isn’t it a little late for coffee?” you asked as you waited in line with him.

The Host cleared his throat. Even though he didn’t currently need his narration to “see”, it was still difficult to break the habit of using third person all the time. “I don’t want to go to sleep, not tonight. I want to enjoy Y/N’s gift for as long as possible.”

“Two coffees,” you said when you reached the counter, and when the Host raised his eyebrows you smiled and said, “Challenge accepted. If you’re staying up all night, then so am I.”

The Host laughed at that and you teased each other as you took your coffees to the side counter where the creams and sugars were located.

“Oh,” you said when you noticed the container for those cardboard cup sleeves was empty. “Hang on, I’ll go see if they have any at the register.”

The Host held the too warm cup in between his hands, enjoying the rich steam drifting up as he watched you walk over to the counter and wait for the barista to finish with her current customer. His smile disappeared when he noticed two men across the shop watching you as well, especially when one whispered something to the other and started to approach you.

You could take care of yourself, he knew that, and he also knew that it was really none of his business. Knowing that didn’t stop him from being any less nosy or protective as he whispered into his coffee, “The Host looks at the man approaching Y/N and sees his intentions and what kind of person he is.”

Barely a second later he practically snarled the words, “Oh, absolutely not, the man stops and turns around to leave, taking his friend with him until the Host has time to properly deal with both of them.”

He continued to mutter darkly into his cup until he saw you turn around, two coffee cup sleeves in hand, at which point he stopped and smiled.

“Everything okay?” you asked and the Host realized he might not have as great a poker face as he originally thought.

“The…I just got an idea for my radio show,” he said. “Just making sure I don’t forget the characters I have in mind.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard your show,” you admitted as you walked out together into the warm evening air. “What’s it about?”

“That’s okay, it’s not for everyone. Generally, it’s just about whatever I feel like talking about in that moment. Sometimes the Host just narrates about particular people or events. But I do enjoy telling a story of my own creation every now and then,” the Host admitted. “Right now, I’m starting to think it’s time the Host tried his hand at horror again.”

As you neared the house, the Host considered Mark’s words again and wondered just how selfish he could be. He took a breath and asked, “How does Y/N feel about watching the stars?”

A few hours later, he found himself back on the hill he started out the day on, but now you two had blankets to sit on and cover up with, and thermoses of coffee and hot chocolate supplied by Chef Iplier tucked close to keep you warm as the Host pointed out the different stars and constellations overhead. He knew a story for every one of them and how to lead those stories into yet another and another, even if he had to make most of them up himself, but eventually he trailed off and just laid there on his back, staring up at the stars.

“Host?” you asked, glancing over.

“The Host was just thinking that he hasn’t had a day like this in…a long time.”

“Then we’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“But Y/N said the spell only last 24 hours.”

You sat up and looked over at him. “Yeah, but we can still do stuff like this, right? You know, just get out and spend time together.”

If there’s something you want to do or somewhere you want to go, just speak up, Mark had said. Easier said than done, but…

“…Yeah, I’d like that.”

You tried, you really did, but the Host could only smile when he noticed that you had finally dozed off and take in the silence all around, broken only by the distant crash of waves hitting the shore. At least, until the stars began to fade.

“Y/N,” the Host said gently. “The sun is going to rise soon.”

“’M not asleep,” you muttered, rubbing at your eyes as you sat up.

Together on top of the hill, you watched the sun rise and the gold fade from the Host’s eyes, until he sighed and said, “Thank you, Y/N.”

You reached out and gripped his hand. “Happy Birthday, Host.”

Tired but happy, the Host stood and made his way down the hill to the house, where Dr. Iplier was no doubt waiting with fresh bandages, assured that you would go back in your own time. You just wanted to stay out here a little longer, you told him.

It was on top of the hill where Marvin and Dr. Schneeplestein found you just a few minutes later. It took both of them to not only gather up the blankets and thermoses but also to help you up onto your feet, and you had to lean heavily on Marvin all the way down the hill.

Dark was right. The spell did require a price, exactly equal and opposite of what it gave. But, as you told Marvin while Dr. Schneeplestein clucked and checked your eyes, you knew it was worth it. Every single minute.

((End of Part 2. Thank you for reading!

So the note I mentioned at the beginning is that I want to make it clear that the thing keeping the Host from getting out and enjoying himself was not his blindness. I’m not sure how well it came across in the writing, but the idea is more that the Host was relying far too much on his narration. His narration isn’t always right (nothing he saw about how his birthday would go was correct, and because he isn’t looking for it he completely misses what’s going on with Y/N at the end), but he relies on it for day to day life. Even when he doesn’t need it to see, he still falls into third person because it makes him feel safe and in control of his situation. And for situations where he can’t rely on his narration, he would rather avoid them than ask for help or assistance. He also allows his narration to make assumptions about the people around him, which aren’t always right or the full picture (just because Mark felt guilty about forgetting didn’t mean he didn’t care about the Host; the egos don’t just ignore him when he’s willing to speak up for himself for once). As Y/N points out at the end, just because he doesn’t have his sight it doesn’t mean he has to settle for being “background noise” or keep to himself as much as he does.

Sorry, kind of a long-winded tangent but something I thought worth making clear. I just really don’t want it to sound like the point of this was “Host can see, suddenly everything’s magically better for him!” or something like that. The Host’s reliance on his narration, for good and bad, is definitely something I want to explore more in the future.

Also, I have NO idea what a night out on the town for the Host and Wilford would look like.

Link to Part 3: “Just Like My Japanese Animes!”

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @cherrybomb-jaguar @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @purpstraw @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist ))

#markiplier #jacksepticeye #fanfic #wkm y/n #The Host #wkm mark #iplier egos #septic egos #birthday #beach episode #kinkiplier #one year anniversary #only for a day #the gift is less vision #and more perspective #always a price

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iknownothingihearnothing · 5 years

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Game of Thrones 8.3 “Battle of Winterfell”

HOLY SHITSICKLES, YOU GUYZ!

That episode was AH-MAZING. I know it wasn’t exactly the shower of death we expected--I mean, there was TONS of death, don’t get me wrong, but our ultra-beloveds are still safe...for now--but it was still epic. Totally worth having to squint for over an hour at a laptop screen brought obscenely close to my face.

Honestly, I thought it was just me until I logged onto Twitter after the episode and everyone was like:

I also made the grievous error of signing into social media before the episode aired and I saw that “Arya” was trending. I thought that she had been killed and I was about to riot.

My brother had actually seen the episode before me--we share an HBO Go account with my uncle because as a lifelong bachelor, he can afford all those channels we cannot--and when I turned it on the battle was at the midway point; I was spoiling myself. I texted my bro “I WILL KILL YOU” and he replied with an emoji of a house. IDK if he plans to defend himself with a house or hide in a house or drop a house on me like I’m the Wicked Witch of the East.

As the episode opens, it’s nighttime (of course it is), and Sam’s hands are shaking because it’s really fucking cold. The Winterfellians are ushering everyone who ain’t fighting into the supposedly SAFE IT’S SO SAFE YOU ALL WILL BE SO MUCH SAFER crypt and performing last minute prep. Theon and Co are wheeling BranBot to the Weirwood tree where he will be used as bait to lure out the Night King.

Sansa and Tyrion and Co. are up on the ramparts. Sansa, naturally, does not look very excited for this party.

The actors’ also. They had to shoot 55 nights in a row.

We get our first glimpse of Drogon and Rhaegal of the episode, AKA the Good Dragons. Because we need to decipher on this show.

Everybody’s in position. The canons are ready. The awesome catapults are ready. The Dothraki are ready. The Unsullied are ready.

All the animals, too, are in place. Including Ghost!

Jon/Aegon approaches Dany and her dragons on a hill overlooking Winterfell so they can get a decent view of the happenings below and get better air on their dragonplanes.

There is SO much to unpack with Jon and Daenerys. They have lots of, uh, “stuff” to deal with, like that he’s technically her nephew and she’s more concerned that he has a claim (and a bigger one) on the Iron Throne than that he’s her blood relation and they’ve had lots of sexy sex. And also that the brother she grew up hearing raped Lyanna Stark actually loved her and married her in secret, thus producing Jon.

But, er, now is not the time and they know that so they gots to put aside their feels and kick some ice zombie butt and save humanity. I imagine this is how Sophia Bush felt when she still had to work with Chad Michael Murray on One Tree Hill knowing he cheated on her with a teenaged extra.

Sort of. Minus the whole “we might die” part.

Melisandre rides up after being in Volantis all this time. Remember how she said she’d come back to Westeros just one more time? Well, that time is here. The Red Woman asks Jorah to tell the Dothraki to lift their swords, which he hesitantly does. Melly grasps the front dude’s Arakh, chants some freaky Lord of the Light mojo, and then all the Arakhs, one by one, become alight in flames like Beric Dondarrion’s.

Even Tormund is awed.

The Red Woman continues on, wishing “Valar morghulis” to Grey Worm, who instantly returns with “Valar dohaeris”. Davos, up in the ramparts, having been warily watching Melly, finally gives the order to open the gate. He...is not a fan of Melisandre. She may have brought back Jon from the Great Beyond but she burned Shireen alive.

However, now is not the time for disputes among the Team Alive population. If they wanna beat Team Undead, they gotta work together.

Davos goes to meet her and she assures him that there is no need to execute her or anything cus she’ll be dead before dawn.

Davos:

Up on the roof, Arya catches Melly’s eye. And she don’t look like she’s throwing out the welcome banns.

Melisandre is on there because she kidnapped Gendry all those seasons ago. You know, to do that sexy, leechy blood magic on him.

And BOOM. The first wave sets off. Mostly consisting of Dothraki on horseback, with Jorah leading them into battle. Huge alight boulders are also placed inside catapults and set flying. Ghost is seen running beside the horses, teeth gnashing.

Srsly, they need to save that direwolf. The PTB at GoT have already killed the other wolves, with the exception of Nymeria, who has run free, and David and D.B. have confirmed that Crazy Cersei killed Ser Pounce after Tommen died. There is NOT a good track record with pets on this show.

All the Dothraki race into the fray to meet the undead, ululating and shouting war cries in the Dothraki language. They’re proud. They’re confident. They are WARRIORS. They know what they’re doing. They’ve been raised on this shit.

And then...

That’s the ENTIRE DOTHRAKI HORDE! Just...gone in a few minutes, holy shit .Did GoT just erase the Dothraki?! Just like that, what the fuck?!

Anyone else feel indignant on behalf of the Dothraki?

Jaime looks like he’s about to shit his Iron Pants.

The second wave all look at each other like “WE ARE SO FUCKED” until some animals and finally people--including Jorah--return to the line. Ghost better be one of them!

Up on the hill, Dany’s in a panic because, again, the dead desecrated her entire Dothraki forces. And she is understandably devastated; they weren’t loyal to Jon, they were loyal to her. She was their Khaleesi. Their original plan was for them to remain on the hill and take flight there and wait for the dead to come to Winterfell’s gates but we all know that ain’t gonna happen. Jon, awkwardly, tries to intervene when Dany begins to leave, but Dany perseveres. The dead are already here and the Night King is a-comin’.

On the line, everyone’s waiting with bated breath. Sam looks about ready to pass out. Tormund’s glorious red mane blows in the wind, which the captions keep telling me “whistles”, so I know it is strong. Grey Worm puts on his helmet. The Unsullied army bend and position their weapons and....

The ensuing scuffle is pretty much insanity and confusion. There are dead body parts mixed with the same people we know and love trying to fight them off and, like, totally forever kill them. Brienne shouts “STAND YOUR GROUND!!” like a badass but is immediately overwhelmed and Jaime, upon glimpsing his CO and fellow knight (and maybe something more?) going down in the mud, jumps in to help her.

Dany and Jon ride in on the backs of Drogon and Rhaegal and it is never not awesome watching dragons spitting fire at their human overlords’ enemies.

Up on the roof of Winterfell, Arya and Sansa are flabbergasted as they watch with dismay the battle below. The blood, the fire, the (good) dragons. Finally, Arya turns to Sansa and implores her sister to get into the (VERY SAFE EVERYONE WILL BE SAFE THERE SWEARSIES) crypt.

Sansa doesn’t know how to use it, she is not trained in combat. Arya just tells her to stick the wights with the pointy end.

Good advice, Arya!

At the Weirwood tree, Theon and Co. are doing their bestest to keep the BranBot safe while he attempts to lure Ol’ Nighty out of his hidey-hole. And on the battlefield, Jorah falls off his horse decapitating ice zombies, Jaime is going through the dead like toilet paper (or whatever they used back then...what did they use?), and Sam is...well, he’s trying, poor lamb. Ultimately though, he becomes overwhelmed and Mr. Edd has to save his butt.

Sealing his fate.

Stabbed through the back of the head, that is quite dolorous.

Sansa goes down into the crypt, where all the nearby tenants who have no fight training are gathered already. Wordlessly, a ball of nerves, she meets the eyes of Missandei and Tyrion, the latter of whom, naturally, takes a drink.

I’d drink, too, in that scenario.

In the air, Jon and Dany are on the backs of their respective dragons, which I guess is the ye olde version of aerial warfare, battling the elements as well as the gross horde down below. It’s snowing and raining and they’re stuck in a low hanging cloud or maybe some fog idk I can’t SEE.

Someone shouts to fall back and the gates to Winterfell are opened--by Lyanna Mormont’s command, that pint sized badass--and men start piling in. Grey Worm orders the Unsullied to protect the retreat as best they could and stand their ground, damnit.

Jon finally comes out of the cloud but Dany doesn’t, and he lands with a worried look on his face. More men pour in through the gates while Brienne and Jaime usher them inside.

Arya, from the top of Winterfell, uses her archery skillz to take out the munchers creepin’ up behind Woof.

It’s a milestone every teenage girl reaches and it brings a tear to your eye, it does.

Grey Worm gives the order to fall back and light the trench and we the audience are like--

I cannot say enough how dark this episode is. I have my screen up to 100 percent brightness and I am still squinting doing this recap.

He’s really referring to Dany here, whom he’s trying to signal with torches, but she and Drogon are still stuck in that wholly inconvenient cloud/fog thing. Truly, the worst weather has converged on this one location in Westeros on the one night that they really need clear skies. All that’s missing is a hurricane.

But Davos speaks for us all.

So, Team Alive is all scrambling around trying to light the trenches with torches but they can’t because they’re kinda preoccupied battling the undead. That is where Melly steps in. After reciting some of that weird mojo in High Valyrian, the deep trenches throughout the Winterfell grounds become alight.

And the rest of us blink our eyes repeatedly in thanks.

The wights are separated from Winterfell behind the trenches and the Hound’s kinda freaking out because he doesn’t exactly like fire, having had his face nearly melted off by his brother, the Mountain. So he disappears.

Down in the crypt, everyone is hearing all the crazy going on upstairs and Varys is like “At least we’re already in a crypt, eh?” and no one’s amused.

Tyrion is anxious. He wants to be doing something, damnit! Like he did at the Battle of Blackwater. Maybe seeing something that no one else has figured yet. But Sansa, Lady of Hindsight, tells him to sit his ass down. It won’t do anyone good if Tyrion joins the Army of the Dead. Tyrion makes a smartass remark about how there is no organization less suited to his abilities and Sansa, Milady Logic, is all “Witty remarks won’t help you, all we can do now is wait. That’s why we is down here, because we can’t do nothin’” and Tyrion pauses before--

Tyrion, Lord of Winterfell? A Lannister?! Why not? Weirder shit has happened on GoT. Weirder shit is happening right now.

Then, Sansa squashes that by laying this on the table: it’d never work between them because of the Dragon Queen. Their divided loyalties would come between them. But before Tyrion can reply, Missandei, who has been eavesdropping on their convo, cuts in like “Yeah, damn that Dragon Queen! Y’all wouldn’t have to worry about that crap without her because...we’d all be dead, so...”

Whatever you think of Dany, there is no way the North would live without her and her armies and dragons. They’d be overrun within minutes.

At the Weirwood tree, Theon and Co. have formed a barrier before BranBot. Theon remarks that the trenches have been lit, then, haltingly, turns to BranBot and starts to apologize for, yanno, turning on the only family that ever loved him and claiming Winterfell for himself.

Dime store psychics around the globe should replace their crystal balls with miniature BranBots.

Then he says he’s going to go now, just like that, and he wargs into a raven to find the Night King’s position.

Gee. Why didn’t I ever think of that to get out of conversations?

“Hey, Bee, how’d you do on your stats exam?”

“...oh, uh, I did, er, ok. I’m gonna go now.” Wargs into chicken.

Ah, there’s Ol’ (really Ol’, Ancient Ol’) Nighty, riding Viserion, looking all creepy and stuff.

Not quite, Nighty, not quite.

Zombies are an impatient lot. They’re hungry and dead and they’re doomed to shamble around the earth forever. So, if a few have to be sacrificed in order for the rest of Team Undead to cross the trenches, so be it. One by one, the ice zombies literally throw themselves on the line of fire, sandwiching their ewwie bodies until the rest of the horde can safely use them as a bridge to cross. An Undead Bridge, if you will.

When Davos realizes what they are doing, the look on his face is quite classic horror movie:

You know when you’re watching a scary movie and the protagonist or whoever hears something or sees something but isn’t quite sure what it is, only knowing that it’s bad mmkay? That is that look.

Davos shouts the order to man the walls of Winterfell. Elsewhere on the battlefied, Jon is still in the same spot he landed, anxious about Dany. He glimpses a dragon emerge from the fog and, at first, he thinks it’s Daenerys but it soon becomes evident that it’s the Night King riding on Viserion.

Winterfell, meanwhile, is all cloaked in a cloud of mud and rain. The soldiers and Northerners are clambering to keep the White Walkers from penetrating the walls of the castle.

They have to keep them from legit climbing the damn walls.

If I’m ever a zombie, I want the Night King to make me. Apparently, rigor mortis is not a thing in wights.

The wights keep climbing until some of them start to get over the wall despite Jaime, Brienne, et. al. slicing off head after head. They just keep coming. The Team Undead horde is massive.

I bet the denizens of Winterfell are wishing for a nice, stationary mall right about now.

Soldiers are going over the railings, Sam’s whimpering butt has to be saved again, and the Hound is utterly frozen. It’s all just anarchy.

Beric and his Flaming Sword of Justice attempt to get Woofie’s attention again but to no avail. Arya’s doing her thang with her pointed staff, taking out wight after wight with Davos looking on, impressed (knight or not, you have been bested by a teenager, old man).

And then, this:

ZOMBIE GIANTS!

ZOMBIFIED MOTHAFUCKIN’ GIANTS.

“Fee, fi, fo fum, I smell the blood of EVERYONE.”

It pushes her to the side like she’s a goddamn sack of potatoes and it’s smacking people around with its club like they’re nothing but rag dolls. Arya falls down a set of stairs as wights group in to attack her and smacks her forehead on the side of a wall. Not up to her usual Faceless Man self after that, she stumbles and nearly falls off the roof, which finally energizes the Hound to action.

On the ground, Lyanna’s had enough of being tossed around by White Walker McGigantor.

She screams, races toward it, it grabs her in its huge fist, and, blood pouring out of her mouth and nose and it crushes her, she STABS IT THROUGH THE FRIGGING EYEBALL.

It’s a fitting end for an awesome character. Lyanna made such an impression on everyone and her cumulative screentime was just over fifteen minutes on the show.

In the air, Jon and Dany are finally reunited again when out of nowhere sails the Night King and his trusty Undragon.

Looks like someone has been chewing too much Winterfresh!

Viserion lets loose a stream of Winterfresh friendly fire and Daenerys ducks and whimpers as her undead baby tries to kill her. When the Night King sails off, Jon and Dany look at each other before mutually agreeing in some unspoken communication to dive.

Aww, they are communicating without words already! Bestill my lowkey-shipping-for-incest heart.

In Winterfell, the White Walkers have managed to break into the halls of the castle and, in less...white climes, they look less frozen and more, well, zombie. Arya, with her trusty staff, is attempting to sneak through her ancestral home without alerting Team Undead.

Unfortunately, she stumbles into the library and, weird, there are a lot of wights in the library. I didn’t know ice zombies were such avid readers.

What? Ice zombies need wank material, too, you know.

That is, if their genitals haven’t fallen off.

Our girl is creeping through the library, dodging errant undead in her wake. Desperately, she dives under a table, but the blood from her head wound is dripping on the floor, which attracts a nearby wight.

You know, like a shark.

The wight bends down and almost catches her, giving us all a mini heart attack, but Arya is gone. Phew.

BT-dubbs, that wight is none other than Javier Botet, who has made a sort of career playing monsters, including as the Leper in 2017′s It.

He was cast on purpose because he can contort his body in absurd ways. And I apologize for making you look at the Leper again. Yeesh.

Grabbing a book, she sails it across the floor to distract the zombies, runs into one going around the corner who then meets the fun end of her blade, and escapes the library.

Who knew a library could be so dangerous?

Arya escapes into a chamber and softly closes the door behind her, leaning back against it. She seems to be safe for a moment and then--

Ser Brus of House Bannyr. He’s a buddy of the Mountain.

Wights start pouring in and Arya runs. She runs, runs, runs--down through the narrow, damp, ill-lighted walls of Winterfell, bleeding from her head wound.

Meanwhile, just below her down in the crypt--

It’s SAFE it’s so SAFE, you guys.

The denizens of the crypt wait with bated breath and gasp when two desperate soldiers ram against the crypt door, begging to be let in. Sansa looks conflicted, wanting to help the soldiers but not at the cost of any of her people.

In the corridors, Beric Dondarrion and his Flaming Sword of Justice and the Hound are tiptoeing through Winterfell when they hear battling and growling noises (thank you, captions) and Arya falls through a doorway with wights quickly after her. The Hound picks her up and they all race down the hall, Beric throws his sword at a couple of White Walkers but they soon begin to overwhelm him. Arya gazes back at him in desperation as the Hound tries to get her away, and Beric is stabbed by one of Team Undead. He stands there, limbs akimbo face aloft as if praying to the Lord of the Light.

I love this scene. It further underscores how much Arya has come to mean to the Hound. Before, he was frozen, nothing could jolt him out of his panic but the image of Arya in peril. And he spends the rest of the episode fighting not so much for the living but for her.

Beric manages to stumble down the hall after Arya and the Hound and they lock a door behind him. Arya sits him against a wall while the Hound barricades the door with anything nearby.

Muttering unintelligibly, the man who was resurrected six times closes his eyes forever.

Melisandre appears behind them after Beric passes, letting them know that he served his purpose. Arya knows her; the Red Woman promised her that they’d meet again and there they are. She also promised that Arya would close many eyes in her young life, which was also right. Brown eyes. Green eyes. And blue eyes.

The wights are growling and scratching at the door, eager to come in and kill and feast on human flesh and blood. Arya stares while Melly bends down and whispers in her ear--

At the Weirwood tree, the wights are finally a-comn’ for BranBot and Theon and his men get into position with flaming arrows (I am now really in the mood for smores). Simultaneously, Dany/Drogon, Jon/Rhaegal/ and Ol’ Nighty/Viserion are duking it out in the air above them, the archers below attempting to knock the Undragon out of the sky.

It’s like a WWII aerial dogfight, but with dragons. So, like, a dragonfight.

Someone has entered his rebellious goth phase!

Srsly, what other show offers a mid-air dragon fight?

The dragonfight ends, somehow, only with the Night King falling off his chosen Undragon.

Rhaegal makes a shaky landing--there is plenty of turbulence in the North, after all--and Jon rolls off his favorite dragon. Dany continues the hunt for Ol’ Nighty and when she finds him, she gives the order for Drogon to do his thang.

It...doesn’t work out as hoped.

The Night King grins and throws his ice staff at Drogon, the weapon that took down Viserion. Fortunately, the ensuing hit isn’t fatal and Dany turns tail and gets out of there before it is.

Jon whips out his trusty sword and begins following the Night King. But when Ol’ Nighty realizes he’s being followed, he turns around, bestows upon Jon a “teacher catching you doing something naughty” stare, and...does his thang.

Team Alive desecrated many of your army? Just make a new one like that. Using his dark hippity doo da, the Night King raises all the soldiers (formerly) of Team Alive who fell in battle. And there’s a fucking lot of them. Including fallen Unsullied back at Winterfell’s gates and even Lyanna Mormont.

At the castle, Jaime and Grey Worm look on in confusion and horror.

New inductees to Team Undead swarm in on Jon as the Night King and some of his disciples make their way to Winterfell.

In the crypt, it was only a matter of time until this happened:

Y’all need some stronger building materials. This cannot be up to code. What would the leader of the HOA say?

Everyone in the crypt scatters in panic, minus the unlucky few who become Thing Food.

At the Weirwood tree, Theon and Co. are doing their best Robin Hood while BranBot is still checked out. I guess he’s in the raven, trying to get a location on the Night King? BranBot, do us all a favor and crap on his head.

(You missed! He was totally open, Bird! Damn.)

Jon almost gets overwhelmed until Dany and Drogon come to the rescue and manage to char the ice zombies without turning the one guy who is alive into a crispie critter, too. She tells him to go, be the hero we need, and he runs off.

However, before Drogon can fly off, he, too, is quickly overcome with wights, tearing at his wings, climbing all over his spine. He roars and twists and turns and Dany goes tumbling off.

Drogon flies away with some wights still hanging onto him, trying to get all the annoying dead OFF. They must itch like crazy.

He leaves his mommy behind and suddenly Dany is alone in a battlefield surrounded by Team Undead. She has no weapons. Her main weapon was Drogon. He is how she defeats her enemies. What the hell is she gonna do now?

One of the wights falls off Drogon and has blue eyes only for Dany. Who is alone. Vulnerable. Fucking sitting in the dirt.

But, what luck! Jorah of House Fryndzonne appears out of nowhere to decapitate the wight with Heartsbane and protect his Khaleesi.

I’ve been looking for an excuse to use that. Not a big anime fan but I love Hetalia.

Jon makes his way back to Winterfell, stickin’ and stabbin’ and gruntin’ and growlin’ and bein’ manly. He’s had it up to here with them ice zombies, you guys.

Theon and Co. are working all the harder to protect BranBot while he’s still Like A Bird. Theon’s men all go down and soon he’s left alone to defend the automaton that was once Brandon Stark.

In the crypt, Tyrion and Sansa are hiding behind a cement monument. Their wordless communication, expressed through the eyes alone, sends a chill down my spine. There is so much unsaid in that mutual gaze, and the acting here is superb. Props to Peter Dinklage and Sophie Turner.

Sansa, shaking, whips out the dagger Arya gave her, and Tyrion kisses her hand.

If they both live through season 8, maybe those crazy kids could make it work? Tyrion would be a kick Lord of Winterfell. I can see him in a furry cape.

Elsewhere, Viserion is utterly destroying Winterfell.

Dany and Jorah are desperately stabbing at ice zombies on the battlefield. Tyrion and Sansa carefully run out from behind the monument. Jon just barely dodges a wave of blue fire as Viserion continues to destroy Winterfell. Theon is doing is damndest to shield BranBot from the White Walkers, but he’s evidently slowing down.

And then, oh crap, there he is. In slow motion, like he knows all eyes are on him.

Hey yeah yeah, they’re Calyfornya.

Jorah is working alllllllll his muscles trying to protect his Khaleesi. Jaime and Brienne are backed up against a still standing wall of Winterfell as wights close in around them.

The Night King and his Night Kronies are coming for BranBot.

The remaining wights part for their Icicle Overlord. He stands there glowering down at Theon and BranBot. BranBot tells Theon he is a good man and thanks him and the audience is like--

I thought BranBot wasn’t programmed to say thank you. Ask Meera.

Theon grasps his pointed staff firmly, yells, and runs toward Ol’ Nighty, who, of course, grabs it and stabs him right through the gut.

Sorry, Theon. You managed to survive Ramsey (and getting your Reek cut off) but the Night King was your undoing. You lasted most of the show, though. That’s more than can be said for most characters.

Speaking of lasting most of the show--

Beric, Theon, now Jorah. Everybody stab now!

Jon is hiding behind some debris. The Night King walks ever closer to BranBot. Jon gets up and screams at Viserion for some reason. BranBot gazes up at the Night King. The Night King begins to reach for his ice sword, and then--

Arya Stark, like the fucking avenging angel she is!

I love that she was the one to destroy the Night King. She and Lyanna Mormont were both frigging awesome this episode.

Moral: don’t mess with a girl.

Maisie Williams said in EW that when she initially read the script she was afraid people would think she didn’t deserve it or something. To that I say pish posh. “Arya” has been trending for days.

After he explodes, all the wights begin to fall, including Viserion. Team Alive was right. Kill the Night King, his disciples are toast, too.

The crypt people come out of their hiding places and silently view the carnage. Arya looks over at BranBot and smiles a little. BranBot just sits there without offering a thank you. I guess he only malfunctioned that one time with Theon.

Unfortunately, the zombies aren’t the only ones that fall. Jorah is hurt and hurt badly. He buckles on the battlefield, surrounded by inactive wights, bleeding from seeming every orifice. Dany bends down before him, crying and holding his head.

He dies in her arms. A fitting end for Jorah of House Mormont, forever loyal to his Khaleesi.

So is Dany’s dragon.

Aww. That’s...cute. Like a dog with wings. And scales. That breathes fire.

The Hound, Melisandre, and Davos walk out of Winterfell just as dawn is breaking. The Hound and Davos stop at the door but Melisandre keeps going, looking determined. Shedding her trademark red cloak, she marches forward, ridding herself of the ruby necklace that has kept her young for centuries.

And then, growing older before their eyes, she perishes. Her mission is complete.

And that’s the end of the episode. Cue end credits.

Salt and crackers, that took FOREVER. Every free moment I had I was recappin’. But the episode was awesome and the cast says the next episode is even more awesome so I can’t wait!

Now comes the march on King’s Landing, the taking of the crown, and, hopefully, Cersei gonna die. Who’s gonna have her head? Will it be Jaime? Arya? Tyrion? My bet is Jaime.

Also, congats are in order for our Sansa Stark. Sophie Turner got married to Joe Jonas last night after the Billboard Music Awards. In Vegas with an Elvis impersonator presiding, which is fantastic.

#game of thrones #game of thrones recap #game of thrones 8 #nickolaj coster-waldau #gwendoline christie #Sophie Turner #peter dinklage #Kit Harrington #emilia clarke #iain glen #alfie allen #isaac hempstead wright #maisie williams

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kinixuki · 6 years

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Answers for the “Questions about creating your ocs” thing, as a read more because it got REALLY LONG. There’s some AU rambling too because why not. The first time a character gets mentioned their name should be a link to their tumblr tag, just to keep track of who’s who because there’s a lot of them :v

1. What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.)?

Kal – Kal came from a dream I had, he was an angry guy with muscles and 0 chill (this never really changed), I think the first conscious thing I did myself was trying to make a small backstory for the dream because I felt pretty strongly about it. I tried to get the look down at the same time but my drawing skills were terrible at that time, so the backstory got more attention. And then it turned into Fisher along with some other dreams I had!

Umbrella – Umbrella is originally from a dream as well, a different one but it had Kal in it too, so it tried to fit it into the story.

Shetla – she happened when I started writing shamans (which had no plan at all at first), I needed someone who would talk with Kwiri so I made her

Oqooto – Oqooto was born as random fish kid for a small comic, so they got a bit of backstory and appearance for the comic. I liked what came out of it and kept thinking about them :>

2. Did you design them with any other characters/OCs from their universe in mind?

Moru – I want to say Ishke, but other than trying to not have them look too similar not really. Maybe Yixi the bird, Moru used to have a hood with a nest, now she has falconry equipment.

3. How did you choose their name?

Kal – playing with random letters, after he was nameless for a year or two. I think I first wrote it down into a German textbook when I was bored during a class :v His name is also one of the Czech words for mud, which I didn’t realize for a while, but it fits sort of.

Umbrella – in the dream he came from he was basically a ghost that came out of an umbrella, so he got to keep it, both as an object and as a name, because it sounded silly and he’s weird. It’s more of a nickname in the actual story, he so old that no one remembers his name and telling people would spoil the fun for him, and because he always carries the umbrella with him it’s how a lot of people refer to him.

Teeku – playing with random letters again. I think his name just popped into my head when I was writing and was like “hey, this shaman guy needs a name”. I wish this happened more often, I’m terrible with making names :l

Bronze – I had hard time understanding how naming characters with actual words one can understand works, so I tried it myself with Bronze. I don’t remember why I picked that anymore, but it had something to do with him being Fisher and Narya being gold in my head.

Oqooto – I think I saw something close to that in random word generator? It looked super weird, but also felt like an instant fit after like a year of not knowing what name I want.

4. In developing their backstory, what elements of the world they live in played the most influential parts?

Oqooto – it’s mostly based on the comic idea I had – a kid living in marshes that goes fishing, then I expanded from that. It’s technically part of Ishke’s world, but I haven’t really connected those two yet. There’s a lot of spirits in that world though, so after a bit Oqooto turned into something that’s closer to a shaman/medium than just a fish kid.

5. Is there any significance behind their hair color?

Narya – for a long time there wasn‘t, other than me thinking it’s nice, but now it’s an ethnicity thing along with the ashy skin color. I’ve been playing with the idea of that being the sign of a pureblood Fisher, but it makes some story mess with how easily they would be identifiable in the city. So it might be more general group of people, but still with them being known for their Fishers being crazy good. Bronze is another of those people, but not really directly related to Narya, despite the appearance. Most of them live in the forests outside of the city.

9. Are they based off of you, in some way?

Kwiri – ummmm yes a bit…. I started writing his story as an angsty teen with zero friends, and having a character dealing with similar problems felt nice because hey, finally a friend. It wasn’t really a conscious thing like “it’s me, but in another world”, just a character I wanted to understand and write well. After a while of writing I was probably more based off him than the other way around to be honest. For some reason Kwiri is also pretty close to how I look irl though, which wasn’t intentional at all xD

10. If they have an LI, how much of their character is tailored to be compatible to that person?

Moru – I wanted her and Ishke to have fun together, so they’re both kinda rebellious, but Moru is still there to explain all the human and social stuff to Ishke. She doesn’t understand much either, but almost anything is better at it than Ishke. And she gets to learn about spirits/forest from him!

12. What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)?

Kal – other than waiting few years for a name he’s tricky to draw for me, first he was the muscle guy when I didn’t know how to draw muscles at all, now it’s drawing him properly during fights and all the cool action scenes. He’s surprisingly easy to write to though.

Umbrella –having him not turn the entire plot upside down. I changed the entire thing at least three times because of him, he’s always been one of the major characters but having him fit into the story in a way that worked well was hard. He’s hard to write as well, it’s easy to get carried away and turn him into the carefully planning villain stereotype because most of his role in the story is watching from behind the scenes, but he’s supposed to be super chaotic. Well thought out plans are literally the last thing he would do.

Moru – I am. Really bad. With female characters. Guys? Cool. Nbs? Super cool. Girls??? Seriously I made her to have a girl character I would be comfortable with, it’s still not 100% it and I still don’t know what to do with her, so probably that. She needed over 5 years for a name too.

13. How far past the canon events that take place in their world have you extended their story, if at all?

Shamans – I wrote down a short story about how some late story events turned out differently and keep thinking about a lot of what ifs. Then I have a lot of things from when Teeku was younger figured out, some of them are important, some of them are just fun to think about, most of them don’t get enough space in the actual story though.

Then there’s several AUs, including one where Teeku is a grumpy farmer with an old smelly tractor and a straw hat. Kirta hates him there because of the hat, he’s a rich farm guy and has been looking for The Perfect Straw Hat™ for months. When he finally saw it across the street and fell in love, Teeku came and bought the first straw hat he saw, which was this one. There’s also a modern AU where Teeku owns a tearoom and his visitors are my and Sari’s characters from the other stories. There’s a lot of fun stuff happening there and it has quite a bit of stuff thought out, I wanted to draw some of it during the summer but didn’t get to it D:

Bronze – I have a ton of stuff from when Bronze was younger and didn’t live in the city, but that’s deep in the spoiler territory. In the tearoom AU he lives in Umbrella’s flat and works in his sushi restaurant, but kind of wishes he didn’t, especially when Umbrella (who despite owning the flat doesn’t really live there) decides to visit, eat every single thing in the fridge and then talk about all sorts of vaguely illegal stuff Bronze doesn’t really want to hear about before leaving again.

14. If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be?

Isidor (the grandmaster of the Order who has no tag atm) – he’s elegant as heck, and his behavior is kinda human but also not really, he’s young for what he is but he doesn’t age/die naturally and is already older than normal humans get, so he’s pretty detached.

15. What is something about your OC can make you laugh?

Siva – okay so. At one point a friend asked what kind of food they eat in the Fisher universe. Part of the reply was that they also probably have some of the food we have here, like schnitzel. And the friend asked something like “so there’s gonna be someone coming to Siva and asking ‘Hey Siva, do you want some more schnitzel?’”. It’s Siva’s fave food now, because he’s a super srs person and this totally doesn’t sound super silly.

ALSO THE TEAROOM AU, Siva is a head doctor of a local hospital and Narya is a student with training there and Siva overseeing it. They don’t really like each other, it’s the same as the canon story. They both visit Teeku’s tearoom though, Narya because he either has a part time job there few days a month or just uses that as a study place, and Siva because he’s a tea connoisseur and Teeku’s tearoom is the best tearoom in the city when it comes to tea quality, but there aren’t many visitors because Teeku is super grumpy.

So Narya and Siva sometimes meet there. Siva comes in a pretty bad mood, because “this one student was supposed to do all this work at night and he didn’t and just kept talking back, I need some good tea to drink”. 5 mins later, Narya comes late for his shift, because “this one idiot doctor wanted me to do all this stuff at night, can you even believe it what a jerk, I didn’t even sleep”, and he gets to make Siva’s tea without knowing who is it for and then he brings it to him and they’re both like “YOUUUU”

Minghe – the main idea of his story is that he got stuck with exactly that one person he can’t stand at all (Sheon) and is forced to cooperate. It’s the sad kind of funny.

16. What is something about your OC can make you cry?

Siva – @sariannearies saying bad things about him and wishing terrible things to happen to him >:

Minghe – the fact that I still don’t have a single colored artwork with him except one speedpaint. He’s one of my faves D:

17. Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?

Kwiri – I’ve been rewriting his story for years and deleting thing I didn’t like, so not really?

19. What is your favorite fact about your OC?

Kal – he really really REALLY hates Siva, the doctor. It’s mutual, but Siva is way better at hiding it, though he sometimes “accidentally” forgets to give Kal painkillers and so on. Sometimes Kal regrets that he wasn’t successful with what he tried to do at the end of Roommates.

Bronze – he’s super obsessed with being independent, but because of that he ended up as the opposite and it took him forever to realize. With no real way out \o/

Moru – she likes birds. That was unexpected, right?

#REALLY REALLY LONG #i need to draw more things so i can write more things #oc talk is my fave thing #oc ask meme #should i tag the chars here

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