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#and the infamous pages of lost days that none of us comment on
tsaricides · 2 months
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wanted to send this to boyfridged but I saw that you were shadow banned 🫡 but it's always so jarring seeing writers try and turn Jason into a "ladies man" or whatever, he's so clearly not interested and non equipped to be in a relationship and the way they handle it each time is so funny because there's clearly 0 effort put into it and it's a shame because when he first came back part of what made his character interesting was that he was almost a subversion of the gritty 90s antivillain without most of the macho hyper masculine aspects in short to me he's like a Ken doll ❤️
essentially! i think winick def did also allow himself to drift into the macho stereotype a bit, but jason's youth and sensitivity was a much more prominent theme at the time. the tears! the focus on his role as a child to a parent rather than any other kind of bond...
the thing for me is that i'm not even against him getting a romantic storyline in general. though that's in far, far future, because as you said yourself, i don't think this is something he is even interested in at all, and most def not at this point. but i don't think that it should be these fleeting romances? others have already expressed the sentiment, perhaps more precisely, but jason is not someone who takes love lightly. if there's anything he takes lightly at all. there's both the expectation of commitment and his own abandonment issues that would affect any relationship tremendously. but dc doesn't even afford the exploration of it in his friendships. we just get characters dropped at him (like steph and dana even...) with a couple of lines about how they are best friends and with them already knowing pretty much everything there is about jason... but as readers we know that this is the kind of vulnerability that he's been chasing for very long and was always denied. at times, by himself too. is this not something that deserves more than a stray panel dumping that info on us?
and speaking of stray weird panels, not sure if you've read rh: the hill #2 yet but i just wanted to confirm that the make out session panels did not, in fact, contribute anything to it!
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kainscape · 3 years
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Slashers with an S/O who talks in their sleep
@chibizombiebehindyou: Could you do the slashers (including Asa and Jesse) with a reader who talks in their sleep?
A/N: Decided to do this in a short prompt type of writing piece so I can practice writing short stories without going way overboard
A/N: okay maybe it’s not as short as I thought but hey, it’s not over 2 pages- yeah no it’s pretty lengthy 💀 and it’s not proofread ‼️
Bo Sinclair
It was a consuming and bone-breaking job that the Sinclair brothers did. Therefore, sleep was never guaranteed. But, with you? You decided on your own that you would keep yourself awake to see Bo come home in one piece. He always brushed your worry off as your so called obsession with him. After a few times of butchering your sleep schedule, it wasn't long before you were fast asleep when Bo retuned home. He made his way up the stairs, shedding his boots at the top. Discarding his mechanic coveralls, he was left in a stained but washed grey t shirt and his boxers. He had heard some quiet mumbling but didn't really look into it. The noise had vanished as he pulled back some of the old cover, slowly resting his body beside you. You had looked dead asleep, your body contracting slow and steady breaths. Exempt your mouth moving and forming words. He smirked, realizing you were taking in your sleep. He had some assumptions about it when you would ask questions with no reasoning. He wasn’t too worried. He propped himself up on his elbow to look over at you. “What do you mean you didn’t see it?! It was as big as your ass dude!” That’s something he’s never heard before. He couldn’t help but genuinely laugh at your behavior, shaking his head until he heard his name. “Well, Bo, what else do you want me compare it to, your dick!? Yeah right.” His face deadpanned, furrowing his eyebrows. He scoffed, turning over dramatically as he rolled his eyes. He faced away from you, biting the inside of his cheek. In the morning, he might tease you or ask questions around what you said. Either way, he’s not bothered by it.
Vincent Sinclair
It had been a long day for the boys and you within Ambrose. What a better way to go to sleep cuddled up together and arise later in the day by Bo? Of course, you were always first within the bed, already dead asleep and dreaming of whatever your mind wander to. Vincent kept awareness of where the creeks were in the floorboards, avoiding them so he could peacefully lay in bed next to your sleeping form. Yet he heard some prominent mumbling coming from you, serving closer and gently easing up the blankets to slip in. He had removed his mask already, carefully turning to face you. You had your arm over your eyes, mouth open and moving from incoherent sentences. But one was clear as day, “I’m convinced Vincent uses Gucci conditioner and shampoo, my god.” You mumbled a few after that but he was utterly confused. Why were you talking about that weird brand you had showed him once, and why did it correlate to your dream?? He shook his head gently, scooting closer and resting his arm across your waist/stomach, pulling himself against your form until he fell asleep to your rhythmic breathing. Sometimes, he’s entertained by your night time conversations.
Lester Sinclair
Your boyfriend had a fairly easy job compared to his brothers, but when there were visitors piling up after one another, it took a whole lot longer to come back home to you and your shared bed. The frogs and cicadas were a whole lot louder than usuals, but it was like a lullaby to you by now. Which queues the small mumbling escaping your mouth. He was quiet when he came, but of course, Lester wasn’t the best at silence. Luckily you were to lost in your dream to realize he was already snuggling in beside you. He had took notice of your nonsense sentences from time to time, not that it bothered him. If anything, it was an entertaining thing to listen to before going to sleep. It gave him a sense of what your brain really thinks of. “Lester… if I dressed up as roadkill… would you pick me up too?” He tried so damn hard to stifle his laugh, his body almost shaking as you formed a stupid grin on your face. Lester took in a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek as he buried his head into the side of your neck. “Sure, hun’” he was sure to keep his words to a hush, taking note to your shared silence. There was a comfortable coldness that covered your bodies compared to the blistering heat outside. What a way to end the day.
Will Graham
Go to work, panic, panic some more and get no sleep. This was Wills routine even with you trying to hassle him into bed. He was always focused on something, or just simply to stubborn to let himself rest for once. But tonight, he had one hell of an excuse. Jack had kept him for a lot longer than both of you would like. But you knew what you signed up for when you accepted to go on a date with Will. You figured out after multiple nights of fruitless attempts at staying up and waiting for your boyfriend, you just gave in and went to sleep on your own terms. This gave Will the opportunity to overthink in peace without the guilt of making you worry. The job had took a huge toll on his physical capacity, leading him to shrugging off his clothing while he made his way to the side of the bed. He rubbed his eye, yawning as he lifted the blanket to the new queen bed you guys had bought, giving more room for dogs and the two of you. He stopped his motions, watching closely as you turned your body towards him. You were mouthing words but they were quiet and blotched. Will slowly slid underneath the covers, feeling his body sink in the end to a relaxed position. He had took not of your sleep talking, not bothered by it. To be honest, he likes to hear what you would say when you weren’t conscious of it. “I wish we had one of those stress powered lightbulbs…” A very quiet and short chuckle made its way out of you, “of course it’s for you, you could probably power Russia with how much stress you have.” And with that, he scoffed and turned the other way, mumbling to himself before attempting to sleep.
Jason Voorhees
Jason always makes sure you’re getting enough rest for your health. He’s adamant about you being your best self with a healthy body and mind. But, he’s never really surprised to see you up waiting for him time to time, honestly he can’t complain. He loves seeing you there in the cabin with the fire still going as you greet him with that beautiful smile. It’s truly warming for him. The rest of the nights, you’re always in the dark comfort of your shared room, resting atop the creaking bed and under the quilt blankets. The cabin door whipped open, quickly caught by the giant hand wrestling against the harsh winter wind. He tried his best to quietly close the door, pushing the lock in place he had added after a break in from a trespasser happened. He observed the room, laying his machete within the kitchen sink after shedding his jacket and laying it on the chair around the wood table. Expertly avoiding the creaks in the floor, he gently pushed open the bedroom door, slipping in without a sound. There was a severely dim light coming from the window, which shadowed over your face just right so he could see you. Jason had took off his boots while he listening to the common small talk from your sleeping form. You guys had decided to look in all the cabins, landing on the jackpot of a bigger bed so you could have more room. Therefore, it wasn’t a huge hassle for Jason to slip into the bed without the alarm of waking you. You were turned away from him, slow breaths from to body. The hockey mask laid on the dusty end table, facing up as Jason looked down at you. A small smile formed on his lips, listening as your talking grew a little more coherent. “Come on Jason, you got all that cake.. and you’re not gonna give me none?” His smile slowly faded, realizing what you meant by ‘cake.’ It ha mentioned before, especially when you went out of your way to slap his ass and look him in eyes to say, “a whole damn bakery back there..” Jason took it on himself to get used to it, not bothered by the comments. He shook his head, inching down so he could pull you closer to his chest, a very strong arm wrapped around you.
Michael Myers
There’s never a sleep schedule with the two of you. There’s times where Michael is out for days at time, retuning only when your asleep and unknowing. There are those very rare times like this one where you’re aware of Michaels presence in the bed while you drift of into sleep. He’s definitely not the type to pull you close or make a move to hold you, but he’s not going to push you away if you wrap yourself around him. Which is where you lay on his chest, listening to his eternally calmed heart beat as you knocked out. It had took a damn long time, but you achieved the privilege of seeing Michael without the infamous mask you grew accustomed too. His eyes usually zeroed in on the ceiling, waiting until he need to close his eyes came. But this time, he looked down at you shifting a bit in his chest, a few words spoken. “I really don’t know how people can’t smell you form your hiding places.. I can literally smell you before you walk in a room.. it’s not a good thing either.” His eyebrows furrowed together, trying to understand why you were composing about how he.. smelled. Yet here you are, your face completely shoved into his chest. He gave you an unimpressed eye roll, turning his head on the pillow for an attempt at some sleep. He found it rather amusing that you would speak whatever you thought without restrictions when you would sleep talk. Something to quietly tease you about.
Jesse Cromeans
He had already experienced your sleep taking, the cameras in his house capturing anything you did. Sometimes you asked questions or said random comments, all that made Jesse smirk or silently laugh. He had also taken notice to the earlier times you went to bed, your stubborn idea to stay up and wait for him dying down. He didn’t mind this, satisfied with your healthy sleep schedule returning. He set the tapes in a box for tomorrow’s checking. Jesse eased open the bedroom door, a small ray of light traveling across the room to reveal the bed you laid in. The black silk sheets covering your sound figure. He pushed the door back closed, taking off all his work attire to be left in his boxers and undershirt. He shimmied underneath the covers, slowly scooting closer to your body. Of course, there were some unconscious words to be shared. “I just realized I’ve got to sleep in every room…” there was some silence before you spoke again, “why?… look don’t even worry about.” There was humorous tone in the last sentence, one that felt oddly genuine for someone asleep. He shook his head, smiling while he took in your scent that comforted him. His hands caressed any exposed skin as the room fell silent, including his mind as you both shared a deep sleep.
Asa Emory
It wasn’t something he really cared to take notice about, never really sleeping at the same time as you due to his large amounts of work he took on. It was to the point he would drift off into a dreamless sleep on his desk. Not that you could really do anything about it with his stubborn view point, so you kept to yourself and went to your bed without him. Well, went to bed also meant brining a pillow and blanket down to Asas work place and sleeping the the chair. You just wanted to feel your boyfriends presence before you fell asleep. He only looked up for a few before looking back down at the scatter of papers, shuffling though some before writing. You made yourself as comfortable as you could get, sighing as you let your body relax. The sleep came easier than expected, the few sniffles sounding in the room letting you know Asa was still there. It was oddly comforting. A flash of worry did strike you, the worry that your sleep talking would annoy him, causing you to have to leave. But it was worth the few bits of it. Asa sighed, running his hand down his face as he battled the tired feeling back. Lending back in his seat, he crossed his arms while looking up to you in the leather chair. Without a warning, a question was asked out loud from you, “What color box would I get if I was one of your butterflies?” He tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows before humoring himself by answering, “Red. To match the original one.” It seems like your dream had answered for you, the words quiet on your tongue as your chest arose slowly. Asa took in another breath before rising to his feet, walking over to you. He brought a hand up to your resting face, his thumb brushing your drink. What a beautiful butterfly you would be.
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inlustrissss · 3 years
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What about a fluff one shot of L falling in love with his friend and work partner... but he has no idea how to declare his love for reader so L decides to ask for misa's help.
Also, can i get a Goth and Gender Neutral reader? 👉👈
you asked, you got it! Although I am just a little bit late, I hope you won't be mad at me for this 🥺💕 I tried my utmost best with keeping it respectfully gender neutral so I hope you like it!!! Love, Inlustris
Monitor
L Lawliet x GN! Reader
warnings: none!
summary: After solving one case after the other, in the most dangerous moment the famous detective known as L finally starts to realize what is most dear to him. Though never being involved with feelings or touchy subjects, L asks an outsider for help. 
My requests are open! Submit here!
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Throughout the big room no light shone through the thick curtains which had separated the working place from the window that lead to the outside world. 
As the busy streets in the afternoon spring sun, came to an end, only the tired clicking and ticking could be heard. The static of the TV wired to one of the main bodies of the computers flickered and played over the loud chirping of the long-billed plovers. As the rainy days came to an end, the smell of fresh gras was almost visible, though the headquarters seemed to only know serious work. 
The (H/C) haired only sighed, noticing their long friend and colleague working on a file absentmindedly.  Normally, a person who didn’t know the infamous detective L, they’d always find his behavior questioning, but would never interfere- thinking the male would work that way. Though (Y/N) knew, this wasn’t his 100%, something must be on his mind.
Glancing, almost stalking him for a while, they thought the genius would notice their stares, which he usually does, but for some reason his nail biting only intensified. Having talked to Watari, L’s personal butler, both of them ad agreed on trying to remind the man to stop his habit. Even this genius is human and gets trapped by simple anxious habits.
“Ryuzaki-”, calling him with his alias during working time and while on the open, he tensed up, “Stop your nail biting.”.
Even with their soft tone escaping their rosy but now colored in a beautiful darker shade he seemed to grow more nervous. “Besides, isn’t it time for a break? I’ve noticed the past couple of hours you’re not acting like yourself.”, looking around, the noticed they were alone. “Are you okay?”, they asked in a hushed tone.
Looking around, L noticed the big, round and innocent looking (E/C) orbs,  staring back into his dark irises, worry etched on their face. Their make-up and unique style fitting and contradicting to their profession as always, L rushed his thought that they’d probably make a better model than Misa-Misa.  But it would be a waste to their current investigation and future cases, due to their outstanding performance as his right hand.
Inching closer to L their (E/C) eyes narrowed, squinting ever so slightly. L didn’t make any movement, not a flinch. Their eyes would notice everything, even the slightest squirm. Quickly turning around though, L shrugged “Whatever you are talking about-”, taking a hold of his sugary cup of tea, the male stood up to leave, ”You’re right, it is indeed time for a break.”, opening the door, he left the dazzled one behind: “Monitor each fottage I left please, thanks (Y/N)”
Taking a long sip out of his plain white cup filled with a half of tea and the other half of sugar, L placed down the now empty cup on to a silver tray, that mostly Watari used to transport little sandwiches for each hard working inspector and treats for the detective. Taking some time to think about the events, L let his hands slide into his pockets, though stopped mid way as he had noticed that certain ping sound coming from the elevator.
Looking up, it was the said model: Misa-Misa, with her blond hair swaysing each step she too and the extraordinary Lolita-Goth look he oh so liked on his partner. Meeting her sea blue eyes, her facial expression lit up and her friendly and happy go lucky demeanor showed: “Ryuuakiii!”, waving her hand at him while dragging the letter “i” into an annoying laughing fit, she revealed a fashion magazine in her left.
“Good afternoon, Misa.”, waving back to the blonde, though with less enthusiasm, he asked, “Were you on your way to see (Y/N)?”, mentioning the magazine in Misas hand. “Oh yes!”, holding the magalogue into view, showing proudly the front page which contained the last few shootings the model mentioned the week before her last visit, “I wanted to show them the new copy we’ve been waiting for and--”, L cut her off by raising his hand, “Sorry, you can’t see them right now, it’s still working time, Misa.”
“Aww, seriously? You probably just want them all for yourself!”, pouting, Misa just crosse3d her arms before her chest, but L remained silent, softly repeating her words to himself “All for myself?”. The blonde looked up, a curious gaze meeting the raven haired, “So you do want her all to yourself!”, giggling, the model covered up her red lips with her free hand. “I’m not quite sure what you mean by that, they are a person on their own, I can’t simply restrict and own them.”
“Of course you know what I mean, you’re a genius, you should know!”, sighing, the blonde twirled a lose strand of hair between her middle and pointy finger: “Maybe all of that sugar did get to you..”,mocking the male, L just shrugged, “I don’t think so.”
But this did got him thinking: Does he truly want them all to himself? It indeed has been now quite the long time he was restless while working, not entirely there. His mind wandering off into an imaginative world or worrisome state whenever (Y/N) wouldn’t be around- no, scratch that, it didn’t matter, he quickly noticed.
Wether they’d be there or not, his mind was partly fixated on their well being. Though wasn’t it always like that? They’ve been partners for a really long time, longer than his knowledge of Naomi Misora for sure, and friends too. 
He read a lot of things during his early days, a lot about solving different puzzles and games, but he could never wrap his hand around when they came.
His experimental time with how feelings would work while (Y/N) were partners were over, he saw himself to them as an equal by now, but what if- “Helloo, earth to Ryuzaki!”, waving the magazine in front of the famous detective, Misa huffed, “Man, bet you’re thinking about (Y/N) if it takes you that long to get out of your dreamy thoughts”, gifting him a look of her tongue, she mocked him again, “You should try that brain-work on finding Kira! I wanna go on a date with Light already again, he promised!”, a date?
Maybe a little trip, spending the day with his friend would make the situation a bi8t lighter- finding out about his true thoughts and feelings that hid in his clouded mind. “Can’t believe I’m saying this-”, he murmured, “But: Misa, I might or might not need your help with something.”, he bluntly responded, ignoring her witty comments., “Help? With what?”, again, her airy head. Sighing, L explained another time, “You see, you’re such an emotional person, where I’m more technical.”, shoving his hands into his pockets, in a hunched position he began to walk, motioning her to follow him into a room across the hall, “The past few days I might’ve felt a little bit under the weather and I do have my suspicion, but to be honest, even as a detective, I can’t help but not be able to solve this mystery on my own, Misa.”
Opening the door, he held it open for the young woman to step inside. “What do you mean under the weather? Are you sick?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it sick, when it’s just a feeling, I believe, and not just a condition.”, he stated, scratching his had as he continued to stay while Misa took the opportunity to relax her legs and sit down on to a couch. “Wait, was I maybe right when I said you might have a thing for (Y/N)?”, noticing how L had perked up by hearing their name, Misas sea blue eyes seemed to sparkle a few shades lighter, already rosy cheeks deepening. “Awww~ Ryuzaki, really?”, she cooed at the usually emotionless acting detective. 
Like previously mentioned, he’s also just a human.
“For a long time now, I want to find out about these thoughts that were kept in the back of my head.”, especially now the most dangerous case since Beyond Birthday, everyday might as well be the last day that he would glance at their beautiful eyes, and their wonderful perfume reaching his nose. “I’m just not sure how”
Eyes softening along with her features, Misas excitement toned down and switched with a warm smile, noticing how lost the male was when it came to the most basic human needs, “It’s fairly easy on finding out how you feel about them, Ryuzaki.”
“If it would be that easy, I wonder why I can’t put my finger on it”, lifting his thumb to his mouth he began biting down on his nail, eyes following the trail of the skyline, visible due to the opened window.
Standing up and entrusting her weight back to her feet, Misas smile never wavered, “Why don’t you just ask them out?”
Dark eyes wandering back to the model, he raised a brow: “I work with them every day, I see (Y/N) every day.”
“I don’t mean as a colleague or as a friend, Ryuzaki. I’m sure they’ll say yes regardless and besides, spending a day with (Y/N) will give you surely an idea if not a start of your thesis on how to feel about them!”, looking up at the taller male with a determined look, Misa Amane was more than sure: “And if the firt time won’t be enough, the ask them out again and again and again, until you got your answer.”, making her way to the door, she stepped out. “It’s not too late and not too cold to go yet.”, winking to the male she laughed one last time
 “Take them out-”, she waved, “There is this pretty nice café down the block! I’ll come around another time!”, with that, she had left.
Thinking over the blondes words, she must be right. Besides, some time off shouldn’t hurt, it never does. Slow steps were heard as L Lawliet made his way towards the ain investiation room, where he had left (Y/N) to continue his work, so none of the progress was lost.
Not forgetting any manners, he knocked, signaling that someone would come in and not startle them. “Oh, you’re back.”, their angelic like voice greeted the male. “Yeah, though it’s now you’re turn for a break, it’s time to wrap things up.”
Swallowing his build up lumb which seemed to sit tight above his adams apple, he stood straight, expression not changing: “Would you want to go out with me?”
Turning around swiftly, (H/C) hair danced around their pretty head in the process as their eyes widened and cheeks reddened.
“There is this pretty nice café down the block.”, he said.
Seeing them smile set her at ease, nodding (Y/N) only laughed, “Sure, L. Let’s go.”
Turning off the computers, (Y/N) stood up to join L’s side and walk down the hall towards the elevator. Smiling the whole way towards the Café and while being with him, (Y/N) couldn’t be happier.
Happy that Misa had come with her obnoxiously loud voice, gaining (Y/N)’s attention on the other side of the door and happy that the whole building is bugged.
No, they didn’t neglect their work- (Y/N) did monitor the fottage, though L did not necessarily mention which one. 
Just like spring had brought the most wonderful flowers, a relationship blossoming would soon follow up.
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lcdrarry · 3 years
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LCDrarry Round-Up Post | Week 3
On Sundays during our posting period, we won't post a new work, instead you have time to catch up on the works that posted during the week and hopefully leave lovely comments for our creators.
Happy reading, commenting and sharing! ;)
~Your LCDrarry Mods
PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information. Thank you!
PPS: Here are all round-up posts of LCDrarry 2021:
Round-up Post Week #1 
Round-up Post Week #2 
Round-up Post Week #3 (you’re here ;))
Round-up Post Week #4
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Podfic
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Harry Potter And The Disorder Of The Phoenix
Title: "Harry Potter And The Disorder Of The Phoenix" Written by: postjentacular Read by: bluedreaming Word Count: 1,304 words / 8 minutes Rating: General Warnings: none
Summary: An exasperated werewolf-slash-professor, a decidedly not-dead drama queen, a brat, and a straight white man settle down to watch a movie. It goes as well as you’d expect.
Listen to "Harry Potter And The Disorder Of The Phoenix" now on AO3.
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Art
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[Art] The Malfoy Family
Prompt: "The Addams Family", 1991, David Levy Prompted by: vivi1138 (ao3) Author: Anonymous Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Warnings: None
Summary: Harry and Draco have just got engaged. Now Harry has to sit for a family portrait with his weird new in-laws.
View "[Art] The Malfoy Family" now on AO3.
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Fic
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Paging Healer Twatwaffle
Prompt: "House M.D.", 2004-2012, TV-Series Prompted by: @HogwartsToAlexandria Author: Anonymous Word Count: 1,550 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Mild dub-con and manipulation, but they’re already friends with benefits.
Summary: Healer Malfoy is an absolute wanker.
Read "Paging Healer Twatwaffle" now on AO3.
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The Malfoy Family
Prompt: "The Addams Family", 1991, David Levy Prompted by: vivi1138 (ao3) Author: Anonymous Word Count: 7,088 words Rating: Mature Warnings: All Addams Family Warnings Apply, Morbid and Dark Humor, Loving Horror, Mild Body Horror (fun), Carnivorous Plants, Blasphemy, Necromancy, Implied Sexual Content
Summary: The Malfoy Family is the Addams Family, and things are about to get interesting. Draco and Harry Malfoy are odd, intriguing, endearingly creepy, and completely and utterly infatuated with one another. This is going to be a fun one. Featuring deadly magical creatures as house pets, recreational use of Unforgivable Curses, hungry carnivorous plants, and plenty of mayhem in between. Also, the whole thing takes place at a Magical Multi-Purpose Store. The Malfoy Family goes shopping!
Read "The Malfoy Family" now on AO3.
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Love that Blinds
Prompt: "The Batman", 2004-2008, TV-Series Prompted by: the author Author: Anonymous Word Count: 7,245 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Brief graphic descriptions of violence, dubious consent, gaslighting
Summary: When Draco Malfoy gets accepted to work as a psychiatrist in Azkaban Asylum, he finds himself caught in a complicated relationship with none other than Azkaban's most infamous resident: Harry Potter.
Read "Love that Blinds" now on AO3.
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all in good time
Prompt: "Groundhog Day", 1993, Harold Ramis Prompted by: Palendrome (nerdherderette) (AO3) Author: Anonymous Word Count: 13,054 words Rating: Mature Warnings: mentions alcohol
Summary: Draco Malfoy's life is boring and repetitive. He supposes he shouldn't complain, since that's better than sharing a house with Voldemort, or doing time in Azkaban. When he gets trapped in a time loop, however, he is forced to confront the routine he has fixed for himself, and try to break out of it. It isn't all bad, facing no consequences for his actions can be fun for a bit. But after he starts visiting the Auror Headquarters and having brief but remarkably pleasant conversations with one Auror Potter, he finally has the real motivation to break out of the time loop - something worth sticking around for.
Read "all in good time" now on AO3.
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He would always win the fight
Prompt: "Killing Eve", 2018 - ongoing, TV Series Prompted by: @prolix- Author: Anonymous Word Count: 26,578 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Serial Killer, Off Screen Murders, Corpses, Political Polarity, Corruption in Government, Corruption in Justice System, Off Screen Violence, Post War Instability, Ambiguity, Dark!character, Vengeance, In a Twisted Way, Obsessive Behaviour, Crime Mystery, Open Ending
Summary: “But you were always just a puppet, weren’t you, Potter?” That voice kept haunting him, in his dreams and during his days, as if hovering over his shoulder, cold as a ghost, lost and lifeless. He wasn’t sure why it hurt like that. Maybe because it was an ugly truth that Harry hoped no one would ever throw back in his face. Or maybe because it was Malfoy. . Killing Eve inspired Drarry where people are getting killed, Harry is getting desperate, Draco is too sexy for his own good, and all hell will break loose.
Read "He would always win the fight" now on AO3.
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In a Field of Chrysanthemums and the Woods
Prompt: "The Untamed", 2019, TV-Series Prompted by: Erebeus (AO3) Author: Anonymous Word Count: 83,399 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: None
Summary: Three notes, and yet they made all the difference. Draco could feel it, the slight magic and wavering notes, washing over him in a brief but calming wave that lit his soul and it was then that he knew that he was going to learn how to play this guqin no matter what. Little did he know that, like dominos, this one simple decision would diverge him onto a path he would've never imagined. - Wizarding world in the Untamed setting, (but you don't need to know anything about the Untamed). Drarry AU starting from Goblet of Fire. Rated E for the smut scene in Chapters 13 & 14, but is otherwise rated T.
Read "In a Field of Chrysanthemums and the Woods" now on AO3.
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Author and artist reveals are on 15 June.
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kbstories · 4 years
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impression//expression
“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.
It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”
(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)
Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, First Impressions, Slice of Life, Character Study
No additional content warnings apply. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.
***
Kirishima Eijirou had stared at the grin on Bakugou’s face when he pulled the pin in his gauntlet and thought: Holy shit, this guy is insane.
Over multiple screens, a good chunk of Ground β went up in a blast so strong the floor trembled with its aftershocks even here, miles away. Concrete and steel and glass were incinerated in a gust of fire and debris until all that was left was Midoriya’s crumpled form amidst plumes of smoke and Bakugou standing tall in the ruins.
The cameras shorted out once, twice before the image stabilized; the transmission remained silent. There was no sound needed to see how Bakugou’s grin got an edge sharper in the wake of the explosion.
Insane and absolutely deadly.
It wasn’t Kirishima’s first impression of him, per se. Certainly he’d had some sort of reaction to the only name ranked above his own after the Entrance Exams and the total sum of zero rescue points listed beside it. He can even remember the twinge of something in his chest after seeing that infamous quirk in action on day one – be it awe or envy or plain curiosity, that innocent question of How does it work, though? that accompanies most encounters with a new power.
Still: In those first few days, when Kirishima thinks of Bakugou Katsuki, he thinks of the mad glint in his eyes as he went above and beyond in his attempt to murder their classmate (or seriously maim him, at the very least).
In hindsight, having him play the villain was perhaps less coincidence and more fate, given the optics of what could reasonably be described as a shitshow. And, okay, Kirishima knows it’s not exactly fair to judge someone based solely on fleeting observations. His parents taught him better than that. Crimson Riot showed him better than that. It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.
It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.
Endure and overcome, just like any other obstacle looming over the difficult path ahead. Kirishima smiles around the pencil he’s chewing on as Aizawa drones on, eyes trained on the uniquely tense set of shoulders across the room.
Yeah. Bakugou won’t even stand a chance.
*
It takes many cold shoulders, rebuffed lunch invitations and countless glares – and a villainous intervention Kirishima could’ve honestly lived without – for a rough voice to say:
“You there. Shark Teeth.”
The sun is starting to peek into the room as it hangs low and lazy in the sky. Class 1-A has just been released into a well-deserved weekend: Kirishima is very much aware his mothers want him home as fast as possible after what happened at U.S.J., and he’s throwing his things into his bag at peak velocity. Only after a tap on his shoulder and a subtle nod from Sero does he register it’s him Bakugou is talking to.
Perhaps ‘growling at’ would be a better description, but… semantics. Kirishima throws the guy a look and a smile over his shoulder either way, “Hey! What’s up, man?”, and given Bakugou’s eyes only narrow a little, he’s about 70% sure he’s not done something to land on his shit list.
Yet.
All Bakugou does is direct a decidedly less neutral look towards Sero, who jolts and stumbles over a quick “Um. Gotta– Yup, okay, bye!” before he books it out the classroom. Kirishima watches him go with some bemusement and a muttered “Dude”, not that Bakugou reacts to it in any way.
“Spar with me”, Bakugou says instead – demands, really – and Kirishima feels his brows tick upwards before he can stop himself, hands pausing in his quest to cram his notepad next to his books without wrinkling its cover page too badly.
“Uh. Like, right now? ‘Cause I can’t. Well, I could but I’m about to miss my train as is and I’d have to tell my–”
A slow blink, and even that is threatening when it’s coming from Bakugou. “No, asshole. This weekend, or something. I don’t care.”
Oh. Kirishima blinks. Something about Bakugou approaching him out of his own free will must be causing a substantial lag between different areas of his brain because– Oh.
“Wait. You wanna hang out?”
Maybe he could’ve hidden the clear surprise in his voice a bit better, that emphasis on you that sort of slipped in there without him really wanting it to. Kirishima’s heart sinks at the twitch to Bakugou’s brow that pretty much guarantees whatever he actually meant to say is forever lost to the ire perpetually simmering in that red gaze.
Well, it was nice knowing what going to U.A. is like. At least none of his classmates are present to see Kirishima’s inevitable – if incredibly untimely – demise.
Then Bakugou… rolls his eyes, exhales a harsh tch for good measure. “Whatever.” He shoves his bag further up his shoulder and, without a glance back, walks out the room–
Oh no, you don’t.
Out of all foolish thoughts it’s that one that shoots through Kirishima’s head before he grabs his stuff and goes after him. Bakugou somehow manages to maintain that no-fucks-given air to his gait despite how fast he walks, and Kirishima falls into a light jog to close the gap.
“It’s a great idea, man. Can’t have us going soft over the weekend! Plus Ultra, just like All Might said, right?”
Bakugou gives him a withering glance of a side-eye for his trouble. Kirishima notes the distinct lack of explode-y manslaughter, though, and allows himself to settle right into Bakugou’s pace.
“Besides, it’s been like a week and we’re already having villains crashing our lessons. I mean, we showed ‘em what’s what and all, but still! Some extra training can’t hurt.”
It’s not like Kirishima minds being the one to carry a conversation yet the fact that he hasn’t been told to shut up is… something? Not enough for Kirishima to point out, it’s just a thing he notices, just something, so he keeps talking. Past U.A.’s gates, down the stairs and onto the busy sidewalk they go, and Bakugou’s hands never leave the pockets of his pants as he marches past clusters of people in an unflinching line.
Head held high, eyes dead ahead. Cutting through the crowd with his presence alone, and in his wake Kirishima follows.
The afternoon light is hitting that glow-y hue that paints even the most mundane of things in shades of gold when Kirishima realizes they’re headed to the train station. He draws up short, slows his step in the split-second it takes to ask himself if the other even takes the train home or–
Bakugou’s eyes are on him, “What?”, that one word barked so impatiently Kirishima throws the thought right out the metaphorical window and keeps walking.
“Nothing!” A flash of his home screen proves: Five minutes left. They’re making good time. Which, actually– “So what time were you thinking for our sparring sesh? I’m good whenever, unless it’s super late at night. Overprotective parents, you know how it is.”
That gets a huff out of Bakugou. That, and a gesture that’s sort of a grab, sort of a wave that has Kirishima a little stumped until Bakugou sighs gruffly. “Your phone, dumbass.”
“Oh, sure! Here.”
The device changes hands. Kirishima contemplates feeling embarrassed about the obvious crack that takes up half the screen; he’d designed his hero costume without his delicate tech in mind, and with the whirlwind of starting and then surviving week one of the new school year, he hasn’t been able to spare a minute to get neither the phone fixed nor the costume amended.
Bakugou doesn’t comment on it – in fact, he pulls his sleeve down to hold the thing as if to cushion it, and when he taps the screen it’s with his knuckles. Before Kirishima can ask, the pre-installed voice control AI chirps its distinct jingle and Bakugou tells it to make a new contact, rattling off a long string of numbers.
Even before the AI has confirmed the input, Kirishima is catching the phone chucked rather carelessly at his head. “There”, Bakugou says, starting to climb the stairs to the tracks two steps at a time.
Kirishima doesn’t have much time to process any of that before the telltale rattling of an incoming train sounds above them. “Oh shit”, he breathes, hurrying onto the platform and to the closest door just in time to see the last passenger get out. Once inside, he pumps his fist.
“Hell yeah! Dude, we–”
The person next to him, who is not Bakugou, looks rather startled. What the…? Kirishima turns a full 360 degrees before a knock just inches from his face startles him and he meets Bakugou’s smirk, firmly on the other side of the window.
Not a moment later, the train starts pulling away. Kirishima presses close to the thick, faintly scratched glass to watch Bakugou turn and walk right back where they came from. His hand is raised, the light catching white and glinting on something in his hand.
A phone. Oh, right!
Kirishima swipes across an image of Crimson Riot’s iconic pose to unlock and reads Bakugou Katsuki, having left the tab open in his haste. First things first: With a soft snort and a few swift taps, the name is changed before Kirishima hits the speech bubble icon next to it.
Baku💣💥
bro what the hell (sent 17:14)
but thanks (sent 17:14)
it’s kirishima btw (sent 17:15)
just text me the details whenever 💪🏻 (sent 17:15)
He watches the tick next to his messages turn blue almost immediately and waits. One station passes, then two. By the third Kirishima is sure he’s been left on read and laughs, shaking his head. Of course.
The rest of his way home is spent assuring Sero he has not, in fact, exited life in a flurry of explosions as well as letting his moms know he’ll be home in a few. The next time Kirishima checks his phone is between brushing his teeth and climbing into bed, two unread messages waiting for him.
Baku💣💥
[link] (received 19:35)
6AM tomorrow, don’t be fucking late (received 19:35)
The link leads to a location which his phone matches to a quirk-friendly gym pretty close to the U.A. grounds. Kirishima scrolls through a few images of the facilities with some interest before his brain registers–
6AM. On a Saturday.
Baku💣💥
/dude/ (sent 22:08)
srsly?? (sent 22:09)
😩😩 (sent 22:19)
f @ my sleep schedule but ok (sent 22:25)
Minutes later, Kirishima stares at the near-painful sight of an alarm set to 5AM before he sighs and flops face-down into his pillow. The things he does in the name of friendship.
>>Chapter 2
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cosmic-navel-gazin · 4 years
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In which I chronicle my Legacy of Kain journey and bridge it with your boy Adam Warlock! (Part 5 of many, and MASSIVE, I MEAN, HUMOUNGOUS SPOILERS for Soul Reaver 2 and the 1970’s Warlock)
Awwwwwwwww yeah we are going there, these compositions are most definitely on purpose.
This is where I realize that my true purpose in this world is to draw and talk about obscure or forgotten works of fiction, and I embrace this destiny. 
Ladies and gents, laughing times are over (not really though), sh*t gets very real again.
I guess it’s a bit late for this but if you have even the slightest interest in checking any of these properties out, do yourself a favor and go experience them first hand. If you just want to see me lose my mind and don’t really care about spoilers then please, proceed.
You know, when I started this little crossover of sorts, I was just having a laugh you know? It was just a cute little thing, I’ll write this one post and maybe I’ll get enough material for a second one and that’s it. THIS IS THE SEVENTH POST (even though it says Part 5). 
Never, and I do mean never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be here one day, talking about having your past and your time-travelling-future selves meet and clash, of seeing your sanctimonious attitude and overall the worst about yourself personified and given free reign to go on bloodthirsty crusades showing off how much of a hypocrite you’ve bee- but wait, I am getting a bit ahead of myself. 
I’ll get there I promise, let’s go back a bit.
Where we last left off, we managed to travel back to an even more distant past than we’ve been before. To the time of the great Vampire Purge, so that Raziel can meet this infamous ancient vampire who knows all the lore and might have the answers we seek on what exactly is causing the corruption of our world.
As we step out into this era of History we notice the fields covered with the Sarafan Order banners, and the impaled corpses and chopped-off heads of vampires. No different no doubt from the kindness vampires showed mankind later when they gained the upper hand during Kain’s 1.000 year old reign. Raziel seems a bit distraught by the sight since he assumed the Sarafan to be virtuous and heroic:
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“For all the butchery of Moebius’s crusade, this massacre was somehow more chilling. The killing fields of the Sarafan betrayed a kind of orderly ruthlessness, the cold-blooded righteousness of the true believer.”
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“Here at last in the flesh, I beheld my former brothers-in-arms, the warrior-priests of the Sarafan order; their lives devoted solely to the annihilation of the vampire plague. And while I confess I felt a twinge of longing, a pang of grief for what I had believed was my lost virtue, I regarded them now with none of the reverence I formally felt. For I had seen the human face of the vampires, and now I beheld the monstrousness of these men.”
While on the topic of genocidal holy wars, my boy Adam here had a bit of a run with a similar pious little group that goes by the name of Universal Church of Truth, who were going about doing a bit of cleaning throughout the galaxy:
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Things don’t go so well:
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Interestingly enough, I’ve learned of a deleted cutscene for Soul Reaver 2 that plays out very similarly to Adam’s first encounter with this “holy” order. There was this minor female vampire character that was being hunted down and would be executed by vampire hunters right in front of Raziel.
This scene was probably removed because they knew that almost 20 years later there would be some asshole on the internet trying to compare their games to obscure marvel comics of the 70’s.
But yeah bummer for Adam here, we’re a couple of pages in and he’s already failed to save someone. However, through the power of the Soul Gem, he’s able to retain her soul for a brief moment, letting us know more about these holy inquisitors:
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Some of these methods don’t seem that far off from the Sarafan, especially on the twisting of good intentions part, but on a galactic scale:
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Aye, a great bunch o’ fellas all around, if you submit and “fit in”:
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Damn.
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Hush Adam, I’ll get back to your predicament give me a moment. I just want the good people at home to keep both this church and the Magus, the god they worship in mind for later.
Now, back to the game. In the Sarafan Stronghold during the first hour of gameplay, Raziel made comments on the vampire he’s currently seeking while looking at some stained glass depictions:
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“So this was the legendary Janos Audron - reputed to have been the most ancient and diabolical vampire to have ever existed. According to folklore, he lived high in the cliffs of Nosgoth’s northern mountains, and preyed mercilessly on the defenseless villagers below. His reign of terror ended when the Sarafan finally hunted him down and tore his throbbing heart from his still-living body. (…) But I wondered - could Janos Audron truly have been as monstrous as depicted here? Or was this merely artistic licence by the Sarafan, who sought to lionize themselves by demonizing their darkest enemy?
Keep these stained glass images in mind, they’ll also be important shortly. Neetheless to say, the hype was very real to meet this Janos Audron.
And as I kept hearing about this gentleman, I thought: “I really love this cast of pricks, where everyone speaks in half truths and is hiding something and has some hidden agenda, but you know, I kind of wish there was some slim ray of hope, of goodness and honor, just some good old plain chivalry and honesty. Maybe this Janos lad won’t be as bad as he was depicted back in the Sarafan Stronghold.” 
It took us a while but we’re finally make it to his retreat.
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I really love the entire segment, the hopelessness and feeling of dread while making your way through this place, probably my favourite puzzle area of the game.  I also really love the music and architecture here.
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When we do make it to the top, BOY OH BOY were my prayers answered!
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Lo and behold, enter Raziel’s new daddy/mentor figure, my man JANOS AUDRON! Proabably the one decent and kind creature I’ve seen yet in these games (if you don’t count helpless human npcs who are just trying to live their lives but are caught in all these wars, slaughter and destruction).
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FINALLY an understanding, moderate, compassionate man in the midst of all the lies and deception. I love him! Oh and he has what seems to be a Romanian accent. Maybe a nod to the granddaddy of all vampires: Dracula? I think his design is cool as well, so that helps.
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Before we go into huge lore dumps and while on the topic of having a brief father/mentor figure for your protagonist when he’s utterly lost, alone and confused, I thought I’d bridge it with Adam’s own once foster parent, the High Evolutionary:
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From the few minutes you get to know these dads they’re very different characters with different backstories and motivations. Janos is this sad lonely old man, the last of the ancient vampires and one who has been keeping himself alive solely for his sense of duty. 
While the High Evolutionary was once a man called Herbert Wyndham who performed an experiment that evolved him into a godlike being. This experience proved to be such an assault on his senses and perceptions that he chose to encase himself in this armour. Like the name suggests he is obsessed with genetic manipulation and tampering of various kinds, it is his life’s ambition. 
Despite his somewhat villainous appearance, he’s never portrayed as such from what little I’ve read, he’s just…a bit creepy. Like, he takes Adam in and is super stoked about adopting him, but he also values him not so much as a person per se as you and me would, but more as one would value an impressivly carved piece of work:
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I don’t know, maybe it’s his metal face that doesn’t emote much; his sometimes questionable morality; maybe it’s the fact that Adam was 5 years old at this point, a baby boy, and this pink armoured deity is super hyped about him; there’s something a bit unsettling about this guy. Have some more dubious quotes I’ve stumbled upon:
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All in all, I think he did care about him, in his own strange way:
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Anyway, what’s important is that these adoptive dads serve a somewhat similar purpose, and that is to push/urge our ”“”“"heroes”“”“” (I say with many quotation marks) into a more benevolant role: to guide them in their messianic mission and save a corrupted world. Basically there to provide a chance for them to be good boys. Up until now their track record leaves much to be desired, and they’ve been quite lost on what they’re supposed to be and do.
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Raziel:
“So it’s all true, then - what Kain and Vorador have told me - I really am some kind of unholy vampire messiah…”
Janos:
“Unholy? -no. Messiah… perhaps.”
Raziel:
“I don’t like that word - it smells of martyrdom.”
Janos:
“Raziel, your role in this world’s destiny is more crucial - and more benevolent - than you’ve allowed yourself to believe. Your journey will not be easy - dark powers are allied against you.”
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Oh and both dads give their sons their toys (Soul Reaver and Soul Gem):
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Back to the meeting with Janos, we finally learn tons of things, both new and others that have been hinted at throughout, namely:
Janos has been living a life of a recluse, alone, on top of the Aerie;
Janos knows of Raziel (some old legend I think) and has been waiting for him to hand him over the Soul Reaver, saying it is the key to save Nosgoth;
The Pillars of Nosgoth were erected by the ancient vampires and they were the rightful guardians. Janos was called to be th 10th guardian, the Keeper of the Reaver;
Over time this ancient race started to die out, with their history slowly being forgotten;
Humanity prospered and since the Pillars choose their guardians from birth and vampires were no longer born, humans were called to be their guardians but were “wholly ignorant of their true purpose.”
The Circle of human guardians is led to believe (by whom we do not yet know) that vampires are a cancer in the world. Janos warns that “with their vampire purge, the members of the Circle have assaulted the very architects of the Pillars they are sworn to protect (…) With every vampire they kill, the humans are slitting their own throats.”
Janos being a cool level-headed guy here when Raziel says he must hate mankind for all the suffering they’ve brought to him:
“They fear what they don’t understand; and they despise what they fear. But no - I do not hate them.”
I find it funny how Raziel asks if humanity should be forgiven for trying to exterminate the vampire kind and doesn’t realize that: one, he himself was exterminating vampires just a couple of moments ago back in SR1; and two, how he is just like how Janos describes humanity to be:
“They don’t understand what they’re doing. They are simply unenlightened… and vulnerable to manipulation.”
Again, this last line, completely unlike a certain blue shambling corpse I know. Not like him AT ALL.
Then, as they head inside, we learn something odd as Janos presents Raziel with the Reaver. You see, the two times Raziel has been close to the Soul Reaver still in its physical form, reality started to bend and distort (I show it off in this previous post). 
When we met Kain and decided not to kill him, he explained that when: “two incarnations of the blade meet in time and space, a paradox is  created, a temporal distortion powerful enough to derail history”
This distortion, or sense of displacement however, is nowhere to be found now when Janos presents the blade to him. Raziel feels nothing and says that “this nothingness is somehow worse…” and to get it away from him.
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We learn the Reaver was forged by the same ancient vampire race that erected the Pillars (which we’ve seen hinted at when we explored the land and came accross all sorts of old murals).
But now THIS is when the game first impales me through the heart.
Me and Janos are interrupted by the Sarafan warriors who arrive carrying Moebius’ Staff (which disables vampires to the point of being barely able to move at all).
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And of course! OF COURSE! Of course the moment my boy Raziel finds a truly positive influence in his life to guide and enlinghten him, and that was willing to put himself in danger in order to save him… he is axed! HEART RIPPED FROM HIS CHEST!
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And by whom you ask? Who would do such a deed and kill my last ray of hope?
WHY, ME! 
TWICE!
“Me” because I was the one to open an entrance to Janos’ up until then impenetrable retreat, and literally me: human Raziel of the Sarafan that lived during this time period and was head inquisitor!
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A bit different from what was depicted back at the Sarafan Stronghold, we found several centuries later (putting the same image here again so you don’t have to scroll up to compare, am I swell or what?):
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The Sarafan escape with Janos’ heart and the Reaver, while wraith Raziel has a final moment with Janos. 
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This part destroys me:
Raziel:
“Forgive me; I’m sorry… I failed you.”
Janos: (gently)
“No, Raziel. Perhaps this was my true purpose - simply to save your life this once.”
Raziel: (distraught)
“While I have taken yours…”
That last bit is probably my favourite line-read in the entire series so far (which is the most impossible thing to choose since there are so many great ones). But I think it’s the overwhelming sadness in Raziel’s voice that makes it memorable, you’ve never seen him feel like this for another creature.
Breaks my stone hardened heart every time I listen to it. And here’s why I think it’s an effective emotional scene, even though we only get a few minutes with Janos before he is murdered - it is because of contrast. Up until now everyone you meet is some degree of a bad or manipulative person, and you don’t really have a true friend or someone to confide in, there’s no one that really brings out the best in Raziel and it sucks because there is potential there.  So when you introduce the apparently only decent and noble person in this god forsaken land and you’re so used to by now suspect and mistrust everyone, it is impactful because he was truth and honesty in a sea of deception and moral relativism. He was my light in the midst of the fog and the one who saw good in me. And right when you’re finally relaxing and getting confortable the game pulls the rug from under you.
Now, while on the topic of having your past and future meet, there was a little something about the meeting between Adam and the Universal Church of Truth that I’ve been saving up until now. If you remember, Adam was interrogating the young woman who was killed by the inquisitors about the church and the god they worship. When suddenly:
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Good news is, Adam must’ve taken a left turn somewhere and ended up on the set for “Monty Python’s Life of Brian”, where he learned some latin:
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This helped him quickly figure out the Magus’ identity:
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Learn your dead tongues kids, you never know when it might come in handy when meeting your time travelling, thousands of years old future-self:
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So as you can se, we have a similar self-discovery journey going on but reversed in a way. In Raziel’s case you play as his future self, who time travels back in time, meets his past self and sees what a hypocrite he’s been his entire life. In Adam’s case you follow his present self, who meets the Magus (his future self), who has travelled back in time 5.000 years, in which time he has built his empire. Meeting and confronting said empire/future self, leads Adam to see what a hypocrite he’s been his entire life. You see, both Adam and Raziel have always been their own worst enemy (their own shortcomings and character flaws). So it would be only natural that we get embodiments of the worst in them: Raziel, the human Sarafan Warrior and the Magus, their past and future selves respectively.
Oof, this was a long one, and I’ve reach the character limit. In the next post I’ll elaborate more on their characters and different selves; and we go through the roller-coaster of emotions that is the endgame for both these stories.
Look foward to me losing my mind even further while I go into time travelling, paradox shenanigans… oh, and look foward to happier times with COSMIC SUICIDE! See you in the near future.
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wheresmynaya · 3 years
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Lost in the Lights Ch.6|Brittana
A/N - Happy Friday! I've actually had this one finished for a few days now since I've been writing lots to cope with the Steelers loss earlier this week LOL. Like the WMHS Titans, I think they needed the L to get their heads back in the game so hopefully we'll see a win this week. Enjoy!
Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x)
The late night visits to Elliott's quickly becomes Brittany's favorite part of the week. Neither of them ever order any coffee since it's always so late by the time they get there, but hot chocolates do just fine.
After about two weeks, they've yet to run out of new things to talk about. They just sip on their drinks by the fire and chat about whatever comes to mind first. It's funny how easy they get along; sometimes it feels like they've been friends forever and that's probably the best part of all.
"So," Santana hums after licking whipped cream from her top lip, "How'd you start playing football?"
Brittany chuckles at the random question; just before they had been talking about what they'd take with them if they were stranded on a deserted island. Santana said she'd bring a survival expert because no way I'm doing all the work myself while Brittany thought a phone would be a good idea – she didn't think about there not being any service out there though.
"How anybody starts playing, I guess?" Brittany shrugs as she cups her mug, "I just tried out."
Santana gives her a look before she smirks, "No I mean, what made you like it enough that you wanted to play on a team?"
"Oh!" Brittany has to stop and think, "I've always liked sports, I think. I like being active. When I was younger my parents couldn't get me to sit still. Sports were a way I could use up all of that energy. I was such a handful, Pete can be like that too."
"Really?" Santana looks surprised, "He's always so chill the times I've seen him."
Brittany snickers, "That's probably because he has a teeny tiny crush on you and you make him all shy."
"He does not," Santana laughs, "So did your parents make you try out for everything or did you have a choice?"
"A little of both, I think?" Brittany says, "My parents always encouraged me to try new things. They never really made me do anything. If I ended up not liking a certain sport, they let me quit. I think football is the most challenging for me though. That's probably why I like it so much."
Santana nods before going to take another sip, "That's really cool that your parents are so supportive of you."
"Yeah. What about you?" Brittany wonders, "How'd you get into cheering?"
Santana averts her gaze to her drink, "That's not really an interesting story. I did it solely for the popularity boost. I learned early on that getting into the right clique is the only way to make it through high school so Quinn and I joined as soon as we could. Besides, I doubt my dad would never let me get into contact sports – he's not a fan of the injury risks."
"I get that," Brittany nods, "Do you like it at least? Cheering?"
"I do now," Santana shrugs, "At the start, not so much. The Captain before us was such a bitch, she made our lives a living hell. Coach Sylvester is kind of a tyrant too but I adapted to her. The uniform makes up for all the trouble though, it's like wearing armor. No one can usually touch you and so many people are suckers for the skirt."
Brittany shakes her head at the way Santana starts to smirk, "I bet you've broken many hearts with that one."
Santana laughs, "Not on purpose."
Brittany giggles along with her and they spend the rest of their time talking about whatever comes next until their cups are empty.
Brittany loves this part; the whole getting to know someone better. She was worried she'd never get the chance with Santana, but she's seen a shift in her demeanor since Homecoming. The Co-Captain is still guarded but Brittany can tell that she's trying to be better and that's all that really matters to her.
\\
The next day, Brittany's at school going through her regular routine of trying to avoid the stares.
Since being crowned Homecoming King, she has a lot more people coming up to talk to her – either about the game on Friday (which the Titans won) or how awesome they think she is. It's super weird having the whole school treat you like some sort of celebrity, but she rather have that then the constant dirty looks the guys on the Hockey team still give her and all the other Titans.
When she gets to her final class of the day she finds Santana is just getting settled in her seat. Ms. Holliday lingers by the door and hands Brittany her usual warm-up activity as she greets her.
"Thanks Ms. Holliday," Brittany says in passing before she comes to her shared desk and shrugs off her bookbag, "Hey Santana."
"Hi," Santana greets with a smile before nodding to her worksheet, "Wanna do this together?"
"Yeah, sure!" Brittany grins.
"While you guys work on that," Ms. Holliday announces as she begins her rounds around the classroom, "I'm going to start handing back your papers that took me forever to grade. That's the last time I assign anything longer than a two page limit."
Brittany groans; she's been dreading this day for awhile.
English has never been her best subject and she particularly struggles with the writing assignments which happens to be her first big assessment of the semester. She remembers Santana offering to help, but Brittany never took her up on it. They weren't really friends at the time and she's a little closed off when it comes to studying with others.
When Ms. Holliday comes around to slide a paper face down on Brittany's desk, it takes her a moment before she's hesitantly peeling back the corner to reveal the grade.
"Crap," Brittany mutters when she sees the bright red C- along with an array of red markings littering the page.
"Not what you were expecting?" Ms. Holliday asks softly.
"Not quite," Brittany frowns as she starts to read her teacher's comments. None of the critiques surprise her, but the grade still doesn't sit well with her.
"Have you considered looking for a study buddy?" Ms. Holliday suggests lightly as she hands Santana her paper next.
Brittany glances to her side just in time to see the bright red A+ on Santana's paper. She tries to be inconspicuous but Santana catches her staring as Ms. Holliday walks away.
"I'm kind of a whizz at this stuff," Santana jokes before offering, "I could tutor you if you want?"
Brittany quickly shakes her head, "Oh no, I couldn't ask you to do all that. I'm not sure when I'd even have the time between practice and weight training."
"You'd probably want to make time," Santana replies as she tucks away her paper without a second look, "I've heard Coach Beiste is pretty hard on the players when it comes to maintaining their GPAs. Total opposite of Coach Sylvester who doesn't give a shit as long as you're nailing the routines. There was once a girl on the squad that had a 0.0. I didn't know GPAs went that low."
"Great," Brittany slumps back, "I can usually skate by, but the grading scale here is so different from my old school. This would be a solid B- over there."
"Like I said, I can help you?" Santana offers again but this time she pairs it with a smile.
Brittany bites her lip at the sight of it; those smiles are starting to get a little distracting.
"I don't know," She replies shyly, "It kind of takes me a second to catch onto things, my past tutors have gotten a little impatient with me. I wouldn't want to waste your time."
"I promise it won't be a waste of my time," Santana tells her earnestly, "I've tutored a couple of Titans before and I can tell just by how you've formatted your paper that you're a lot smarter than you think."
Brittany bites her lip at that and starts to consider her offer, "I'm not sure when we'd be able to meet. I get out of practice around 6 at the earliest."
"That's loads of time. I'm pretty flexible," She says then quickly clarifies, "With scheduling, I mean. Cheerios practice usually finishes up before yours and we have the same days off. We can even get together at Elliott's? Although I think the Lima Bean is closer, but whatever's easiest for you."
Brittany glances at Santana again and she's kind of surprised how willing she is to help with her studies. Even her friends back home were always a little hesitant when it came to studying with her, so to see Santana being so eager eases most of Brittany's reservations.
"Okay," Brittany finally relents, "Only if you want to. I don't want to take up too much of your time though."
Santana just sighs through her smile, "You're too considerate for your own good sometimes, Pierce."
Brittany blushes at that, "I just don't have a very good track record when it comes to this stuff."
"Well, I don't mind," Santana assures her, "Seriously. I wouldn't offer if I did so don't worry about it."
"Okay," Brittany nods bashfully, "Thanks."
Santana just shrugs dismissively before turning back to her worksheet.
\\
In addition to how everything's going with Santana, things seem to have shifted for the better when it comes to the Titans too. For the most part, Brittany's gained the team's respect and their dynamic is the strongest its ever been. There's an even bigger push for harder training now that they're getting closer to the playoffs, but despite most of the team being on the same page there are still two that love to stand out.
Karofsky and Azimio.
It's towards the end of practice and they're running a couple different plays and the infamous duo have been insufferable the entire time. Coach Beiste has yet to get involved, but that's on Brittany. She wants to be able to control her team, she doesn't want to have to go running to the Coach just because of a couple guys that won't get with it.
But those two never just do as they're told, there's always some backhanded comment and Brittany's getting sick of it. The only reason she hasn't snapped is because she doesn't want to let her emotions get the best of her. They've used that against her before and she knows if she were to have an outburst again they'd just do the same thing. That's the most frustrating part about working with ignorant assholes, arguing with them doesn't do a damn thing – until today.
Brittany goes to gather her offense for a quick huddle so that she can run through the next play and Azimio is already on her with the belittling nicknames.
"Alright Princess," He groans, "What are you having us do this time?"
"Not another play-action," Karofsky jokes.
Brittany's jaw tenses and she's about to go off on the both of them when Finn – of all people – beats her to it.
"God, when are you two going to give it up already?" He snaps, "The pushback is so annoying!"
"Woah!" Karofsky raises his hands dramatically, "Has Hudson been body snatched?"
"No," Finn replies, "I've just realized that fighting all of this progress gets you nowhere! Seriously, have you guys not noticed? We're actually winning this season."
Azimio shakes his head and slaps at Karofsky's shoulder like he can't believe his ears.
"Look around you man," Finn tells him, "No one's laughing with you anymore."
Their faces fall into grimaces while Finn looks to Brittany.
"I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, but Britt's taught me what a real leader looks like and I think that's cool. Not gonna lie, I was mad that she replaced me but now that I've gotten to know her, I'm happy she's here. Actually, I'm glad she replaced me so we can finally have a damn chance!" Finn explains with a dopy grin before he hardens his gaze and looks back Azimio and Karofsky, "Maybe it's time you both learn something too?"
"Yeah," Puck chimes in as he flinches at them with his fists balled, "Like keeping your damn traps shut. You know, just for this bullshit – I don't want to see your faces at my place next week for Halloween."
"Dude! What?" Azimio scoffs.
Karofsky looks like he's about to cry. It nearly makes Brittany laugh; who knew getting an invite revoked could be so hurtful to those guys. Meanwhile, Brittany's still on the fence about going.
Puck just crosses his arms, "I'm with Finn here. You two need to cut the shit already."
"You say you want to win?" Finn asks them, "Well Britt's our best shot at that so just fall in line already."
"Or quit the team so the rest of us can focus," Sam suggests.
Mike nods along with him.
Azimio and Karofsky just stew in their annoyance, but they don't fight the other players. Brittany hopes that this is the last she'll hear from them, but she has a feeling they still have a little left in them.
But Finn smiles proudly and looks back to Brittany as he holds out his fist to her, "Take us to 8-1, Cap."
Brittany can't help but smile as she bumps her fist with his.
This is what a real team looks like, this is what she's been trying to show them all this time. You have each other's back and you respect one another, that's what you're meant to do when you're apart of a team and Brittany feel so proud to see this kind of progress.
"Alright, last play of the day. Up the Guts and Pop Right. Titans on three. One…two…three," She says followed by a loud clap, "Titans!"
Everyone falls into position and there's not a single word uttered from Azimio and Karofsky for the first time all afternoon.
\\
When Brittany gets to her locker later the next day, she frowns when she doesn't see Santana there yet. She's wondering if maybe she missed her again or maybe she's too early when she spots Kurt and Mercedes walking towards her.
"Hey guys!" Brittany greets before putting in her locker combo.
"Your majesty," Kurt bows playfully.
Brittany chuckles, "You've got to stop doing that before it catches on."
"How you been?" Mercedes asks as she leans against Santana's locker.
Brittany's glad that she gets hers open in time because the door just so happens to block them from seeing her smile.
She really can't help it, because when she thinks of how she's been she thinks of the weekend. She's reminded of all the times she's made Santana laugh with something silly she said. She's reminded of how different Santana looks dressed in something other than her Cheerios uniform. She's reminded of how Santana's nose crinkles when she smiles really big and how it makes Brittany's heart flip at the sight of it.
"Good," Brittany answers casually.
"What have you been up to?" Mercedes wonders, "What was your weekend like?"
"Yeah," Kurt adds, "I didn't even see you leave after the game on Friday."
Brittany continues to play it coy as she pulls her books out, "I was hanging out with Santana."
"Again?" Mercedes asks.
Brittany let's out a quiet sigh. She let it slip once before that she and Santana hung out, but it seems like her friends haven't forgotten about it like she'd hope they would. She thinks it's a great thing that she's getting to know Santana better, but others – like Kurt and Mercedes – seem to disagree and she's starting to understand why Santana's always so guarded.
"Yeah," Brittany shrugs casually, "Santana's tutoring me for English."
"On a Friday night?" Mercedes questions.
Brittany doesn't get what the big deal is and nods.
"You've gotten quite close since Homecoming," Kurt comments and Brittany already hates where this is going.
"We're friends."
Mercedes sputters out a laugh, "That girl doesn't have friends. She has Quinn and people she wants to crush."
"Or crush on…" Kurt smirks at Brittany.
"What?" Mercedes looks confused.
The blonde's brows furrow too, "Yeah. What?"
"Maybe she likes you?" Kurt suggests, "That has to be it; that's the only logical explanation. Santana Lopez doesn't usually get close to anyone unless there's something in it for her."
"Or she's trying to throw sticks at your head," Mercedes adds, "Her aim is awful."
Kurt nods, "You're climbing ranks pretty fast, Britt, she probably just needs the popularity boost."
"Preach," Mercedes says with the wave of her hand.
Brittany frowns at the pair. She can't believe she's hearing them talk about Santana like this. It's actually making her a little annoyed, but she keeps her cool for now as she explains, "I don't think it's like that. Santana's nice. Maybe her stick throwing days are behind her?"
"Nice?" Mercedes' brows rise, "She doesn't know how to do that."
"Sure she does," Brittany responds; she can feel herself getting defensive but she keeps her cool.
"I wouldn't be so sure," Kurt says warily, "Just be careful around her. Other than Quinn and her reputation, there's not much else Santana cares about."
"You guys are making a lot of assumptions about someone you don't even talk to," Brittany points out as she stuffs the last book she needs into her bookbag. She tries to keep her voice even although she feels the back of her neck heat up, "Or do you talk?"
"Oh, I've tried talking to her," Kurt says.
"When?" Mercedes questions disbelievingly.
"Last year," Kurt says, "Remember? I extended an olive branch and she hit me with it."
"Okay, what's with all the sticks and branches?" Brittany sighs because she's struggling to keep up.
"I'm meaning figuratively," Kurt clarifies, "I've tried to make nice with her and it did not go well. She went off on me in front of everyone."
"I remember that. People don't call her Satan for nothing," Mercedes reasons, "And I thought Bree was bad."
"Oh no, she was way worse than Santana," Kurt says, "For obvious reasons, of course."
Brittany starts to wonder what he means and who this Bree person is.
"True," Mercedes replies with the shake of her head, "They were both nightmares. I'm glad we only have to deal with one of them now even if it has to be Satan."
And that's what puts Brittany over the edge.
She slams her locker shut, "Alright, that's enough. I don't think it's cool how you're talking about my friend like that."
Kurt's taken aback, "Wait, we're sorry. We got carried away. Santana's just…she's got a history of not being a nice person. We just don't want you getting hurt."
Brittany furrows her brows as she pulls on her bookbag, "Does it look like I can't take care of myself?"
Kurt and Mercedes look to each other guiltily.
"Look, I appreciate you both looking out for me but Santana is my friend," Brittany tells them firmly, "And I'm not going to listen to either of you talk about her when you don't even know her. God, you have no idea what goes on behind the scenes for her. You have no idea what she struggles with."
"Britt," Kurt tries, "We didn't mean to upset you, but like – what could she possibly have to struggle with other than the obvious? She's at the top of the food chain. She's popular, she's loaded, she's Santana Lopez."
"Everyone has something. Maybe you should think about that the next time either of you judge someone without knowing them," Brittany says. She hasn't been angry like this in awhile and she's sure it shows, "You're in the Glee Club, you know what it's like to be pushed down for being yourselves but at least you have a group of people who support you. She doesn't, so where's your damn compassion?"
She doesn't let them get in another word before she storms off to her last class of the day.
\\
Santana's already seated in her usual seat when Brittany arrives to Ms. Holliday's classroom. She's still fuming, but she tries her best to mask it as she approaches their shared desk.
Clearly she doesn't do a very good job of it.
"You alright?" Santana asks as Brittany gets settled.
"Yeah?" Brittany tries to play it cool, "Why?"
She's organizing her binder and pulling out her pen just as Ms. Holliday starts to go through the warm up activity, but she can feel that Santana is still staring.
"You're all…pink in the face," Santana notes with a brow raised.
"Oh," Brittany rubs the back of her hand against her cheek like it's going to make it go away, "I forgot something in my locker and had to run back before the bell rang."
It's a lame excuse but she panicked.
She couldn't tell Santana that the real reason is because her so-called friends had just been talking down on her and it pissed Brittany off. She guesses she could, but she doesn't want Santana to retaliate and further prove that Kurt and Mercedes were right about her.
It's just hard for Brittany to believe that Santana could be anything like the stories they've told. Other than how she threatened JBI weeks ago, Brittany hasn't really witnessed that part of her before. Then again, she was pretty rude to Brittany when she first started at McKinley so that makes her wonder maybe there might be some truth behind her friends' warnings?
"Question," Brittany whispers to Santana.
"Yeah?"
Brittany bites her lip, "You've…never thrown sticks at my head, right?"
Santana chokes out a laugh and looks to Brittany only to find her looking back with this serious expression on her face. Santana softens, "No. I've never thrown sticks at your head."
"Have you thrown sticks at anyone's head before?" Brittany asks.
Santana tilts her head to the side, "I don't think so. Maybe when I was a little kid?"
"Okay," Brittany nods before going back to her work, "Just checking."
Santana only gives her a curious look before going back to do her activity too.
While Brittany answers the questions, she can't help but think back to her conversation with Kurt and Mercedes. The more time she spends getting to know Santana, the less she believes that this so-called Satan version exists.
If it did, then Brittany must be immune to it. Still though, she wonders about all the missing pieces to Santana that she has yet to learn like what went down last year and who this Bree girl is and why is everyone so bitchy to each other?
\\
It's not until the next day that Brittany's curiosity finally gets the best of her.
She and Santana are studying together at the Lima Bean one afternoon and she's trying her hardest to focus on the examples Santana's going over, but there's too many nagging questions in her head and none of them are about Ms. Holliday's class.
"I have a question," Brittany finally says.
Santana pauses and looks up at Brittany, "Yeah?"
Brittany shifts a little in her seat, "It's not about this though."
Santana puts down her pen, "Okay?"
"Who's Bree?"
"Bree?" Santana blinks at her like she's not sure if she heard correctly.
Brittany nods, "Kurt and Mercedes mentioned something about her and you – "
"What'd they say?" She interrupts. There's a noticeable change right away as Santana sits straighter, her chin just slightly raised as if to say hit me with your best shot.
"Nothing really," Brittany assures her, "They just brought her up and how she wasn't really a nice person. I wanted to hear from you though because they kind of compared you...to her."
Santana instantly scoffs as she averts her gaze, "I'm nothing like her, that bitch was pure evil."
Brittany's brows rise at Santana's tone, but Santana softens just a little at the sight.
"Sorry. I guess I should be thankful that you didn't hear about it sooner," Santana sighs, "God knows people at this school love to start drama for no reason."
Brittany bites her lip at the sound of Santana being so bitter again. It reminds her of their conversation at the Homecoming Dance and how she could see Santana struggling with so much inside of her. She's never met someone who had such a hard time being themselves.
"Is this about last year?" Brittany wonders.
Santana lets out a deep sigh again. She's yet to look at Brittany as she answers, "Yeah."
"Oh," Brittany breathes out, "Well, I don't want you to feel pressured to talk about it if you're not ready. I was just wondering, you don't have to explain or whatever. We can go back to studying."
Santana chances a glance at Brittany rambling. Her voice is soft and small, "No, I want to tell you."
Blue eyes flicker between dark brown, "Are you sure?"
Santana nods, "I rather you hear it from me then someone else. At least you'll get the truth."
"Okay."
It takes Santana a moment before she begins to tell her story, but Brittany just sits there patiently waiting. There's another exhale and a glance at Brittany before Santana starts.
"So when Quinn and I joined the Cheerios in our Freshman year, Bree was the Captain," Santana explains, "That was back when there was only one. Anyway, she was a year older and didn't really like us from the very start. Not many girls on the squad were fond of her either, because she was a major bitch. A bigger one than me if you can imagine that."
Santana laughs at her own expense but Brittany only frowns.
"I can imagine that because I don't think you're a bitch," Brittany tells her earnestly.
Santana only smirks, "Well you're the only one. Anyway, we developed this rivalry pretty early on because I guess she felt threatened by Quinn and I? It only got worse as the year progressed. By Sophomore year, Quinn and I managed to convince Coach Sylvester that two Captains were better than one and Bree was demoted to the bottom of the pyramid."
"Woah," Brittany gasped.
"Yeah," Santana looks proud of herself, "Bree didn't like that very much, of course."
"I bet," Brittany chuckled.
"That was also around the time that I started to realize that I was," Santana pauses and at first she looks unsure but then she looks to Brittany, "I was realizing that I was gay."
Brittany tries to keep her proud smile small and nods for her to keep going.
"There was this girl," Santana admits, "She was a Junior – same as Bree – at Carmel High and a cheerleader too so we knew a little of each other since we often competed against them. She was like the only girl in this town that was openly gay – kind of like you, she was sure of who she was, confident. I thought she was so cool for that."
Brittany begins to smirk, "Does that mean you think I'm cool too?"
Santana begins to blush, "No."
"Convincing," Brittany chuckles, "Go on."
"Well, she became the first girl I knowingly had a crush on," Santana explains then quickly follows up with, "I don't know if it was an actual crush or if I was just amazed by how she carried herself. Like was it envy or did I really like her, you know?"
"I definitely know," Brittany says, "Do you want to be her or be on her, right?"
Santana looks a little surprised by Brittany's example, "Yeah, that. Anyway, she actually use to work at Elliott's as a barista. That's why I use to go there all the time. I was way too afraid to actually talk to her so I spent so much money on ordering drinks instead."
"Really?" Brittany begins to smirk, "That's kind of cute, Santana. It's kind of hard to imagine you being that shy."
"Shut up," Santana grumbles through an embarrassed smile, "As if you've never had a crush on someone you thought was out of your league."
Brittany chuckles, "You'd be surprised."
"I really would be," Santana replies, "I was terrified of anyone at school finding out so I tried my hardest to hide it. I dated guy after guy just trying to force the feeling away. I just wanted to be like everyone else – normal."
"It is normal," Brittany assures her.
"I didn't think so back then," Santana admits sadly, "I'm still trying to work on that now. It's hard when you're brought up a certain way with all this pressure to be the perfect whatever – student, daughter, girlfriend, cheerleader. Hiding who I was got tiring but at Elliott's – I felt safe, like I could be myself. No one from McKinley usually came out that way so there wasn't much risk of running into anyone I knew. I started to gain a little confidence and ended up going there every day for like a year just so I could talking to this girl for literally 5 minutes, it was so bad."
Brittany teases playfully, "Who knew you were such a romantic."
Santana smirks, "I guess I knew what I was doing because all that hard work finally turned into something. One day during my Junior year, she asked me if I wanted to hang out with her on her break. It was crazy; I didn't even think, I just said yes and we went out back and sat on the stoop just talking. She actually gave me my first cigarette that day. I felt so cool."
Brittany shakes her head at how Santana puffs out her chest a little, "Of course you did."
"What I didn't know was that Bree had been keeping tabs on me for the longest time," Santana continues, "At first she was thinking that I was making nice with someone on the Carmel squad and you know how deep this rivalry goes. No one is to fraternize with the enemy, so this was the perfect opportunity for Bree to get enough dirt on me so that she could take my spot as Co-Captain before she graduated."
Brittany starts to frown as she realizes where this might be going.
"She ended up getting way more than she asked for that day," Santana says ominously, "While she was staging some sort of stake out, Bree witnessed the moment I found out that this girl liked me too. We were sitting out on the back porch when she leaned over and kissed me. It was just on the cheek but still – I'd never been kissed by someone that I could actually have a chance with. It was the greatest moment of all time and Bree stole it from me by catching the whole thing on camera."
"Shit," Brittany gasped, "What?"
"The next day I came to school and the halls had been covered in pictures of the kiss," Santana whispers, "I was mortified. Quinn tried taking down as many as she could, but there were too many. People had already seen and Bree was just churning out rumor after rumor. Some were a little true and some weren't, but it didn't matter by then. I was in no position to even try and defend myself, especially when JBI started airing the video clip. The whole school had been exposed before I could do anything about it. I felt so…small I guess? I ran out of there crying."
"Oh my God, Santana," Brittany's heart feels so heavy, "That's horrible, I'm so sorry."
Santana shrugs, "Bree and JBI got suspended for a bit but the damage was done. They loved finally getting a chance to take their shots at one of McKinley's baddest. People either wanted to be me or feared me before that happened, but after? It was hard to bounce back. It's a good thing I have tough skin. Someone always has something to say, even now."
"It shouldn't have to be like that," Brittany shakes her head, "I don't get this school. I don't get how people can be so mean to each other. This is you, this is who you are and you're awesome. Why should you have to hide any of that?"
"Look, I'm not innocent either," Santana replies, "I've been a bitch to so many people. I guess it was like karma or something. Maybe I deserved it for the things I've said to people?"
Brittany reaches out to cover Santana's hand with her own. She moves without thinking, but she felt like it needed to be done. She needed some way to ground Santana enough so that she'd hear her and this was the best she could come up with.
"No one deserves to be outed," Brittany tells her, "No one."
Santana nods as she glances down at the hand on hers, "There's more."
Brittany's brows furrow as she pulls away.
"Not only did that video circulate in school, it went viral – even my parents saw," Santana continues, "I've never seen my dad so angry. Not only did I fuck up our family's reputation, I jeopardized my chance at getting into an Ivy League school. He's pretty well known and to have his only daughter being exposed in such a light…it was scandalous."
Brittany frowns at the sarcasm, "What about your mom?"
"It took her a second to understand but she's getting there. She's a little more supportive," Santana shrugs, "The biggest issue is with my dad. Reputation has always been of high importance on his side of the family so…it's been hard."
"I can only imagine," Brittany sighs.
"I missed so much school last year too because I was just so distracted with everything going on. I really screwed myself so he's been on my case this year to make sure I'm still in a position to get into a good school," Santana says.
"God Santana," Brittany replies, "I'm so sorry. I know I keep saying that but just…I can't think of anything else to say. I'm so speechless."
Santana nods and for a moment there's this faraway look on her face, "It's whatever now. I just… I wasn't ready, you know? I didn't even get a chance to tell my parents properly before they found out. I always was so careful. Dated the hottest guys, stayed on top of my grades, I was Co-Captain; I had this whole school wrapped around my finger just so no one would suspect a thing. I thought I could keep it up until graduation. I just thought I had more time to get everything figured out, you know?"
Brittany stays quiet this time, just soaking in everything Santana's said. It's all so heartbreaking. She can't imagine going through what Santana did. It must've felt like the whole world had turned its back on her and Brittany feels for her.
"So now you know about that," Santana says awkwardly as if she's trying to fill the silence, "This is why I'm a pain in the ass when it comes to my sexuality. Kurt and Mercedes have probably told you how cruel I've been to them and they're right about me there."
Brittany is quick to argue, "You were hurt, it takes time to heal especially from something like this."
"I was a bully and there's no excuse for it," Santana tells her, "I did what I did and I can't really take that back. I'm trying to be better now, but it's still hard for me to find the balance of what's me and what isn't. The lines have been blurred for so long."
"Well, I wasn't around to witness whatever happened between you and them or whoever you may have treated badly," Brittany says, "But this Santana I've come to know…she isn't a bully, she's my friend. She's considerate and patient. She volunteers her time to help me study and most importantly…she's nice."
"Thanks," Santana says shyly, "It's kind of cool having someone in my corner for once – other than Quinn, obviously. You're different. You make everything sound so simple, you know? You're just really wise, I guess."
Brittany chuckles at that, "I don't know about wise. I grew up in a very different place than you and I guess it shows."
"It really does," Santana agrees, "I hope I can get to where you are one day."
"You will," Brittany assures her.
"Thanks."
After a pause Brittany begins to wonder, "So whatever happened to the girl? The barista?"
"Oh," Santana frowns, "Nothing really, I just didn't know how to move forward after everything I put her through, you know? I felt bad about it all. She was really understanding I guess. Once she graduated a few months later, I never heard from her again."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
Santana shrugs, "I wasn't like in love with her or anything. Honestly, I didn't expect her to stick around anyway. It was just too complicated. Sometimes it still feels that way, like I'm spinning my wheels and getting nowhere."
"Well, for what it's worth I think you're making great progress," Brittany says kindly.
"You think so?"
"Totally!" Brittany grins, "I mean, we went to Homecoming together. As friends, but did you ever imagine that would be something you'd do in high school? Have a cute girl like me for a date?"
Santana rolls her eyes at the teasing tone, "No one said you were cute."
"It doesn't have to be said," Brittany jokes.
Santana fights the blush, "To answer your question…No, I guess that's not something I imagined doing in high school."
"Consider it forward progress then," Brittany winks.
"Is that one of your football terms?"
"Yeah," Brittany giggles.
Santana shakes her head, "You're a dork."
"Rude," Brittany chuckles, "So what was this mysterious crush's name or is that top secret?"
"No it isn't top secret," Santana laughs. She softens a little like it's the first time she's said it out loud in awhile. In reality, it is. "Her name was Dani."
Brittany nods solemnly before reaching for her drink. It's cold by now but Brittany doesn't pay too much attention to it, she's still trying to process everything Santana's told her. She isn't surprised by how the kids at McKinley reacted to Santana's sexuality, but damn…she can't believe Santana went through something like that and she's still trying secure her spot at the top of the food chain.
That shows resilience and Brittany wonders if Santana knows how amazing she is for that. She notices how hard she struggles internally just from the couple of times they've talked about something other than school. Santana comments a lot on Brittany's traits and wanting to be like her one day, but Brittany finds herself wanting to embody just an ounce of what Santana has.
Other than her dad, Brittany doesn't think she's met anyone stronger than Santana and she really admires that about her.
"Sorry for bringing the mood down," Santana comments to fill the void. She has her pen in her hand again as she turns back to their work, "We can get back to this."
Brittany shakes away her thoughts, "No, don't be sorry. I was the one who asked, you didn't bring it down."
Santana smirks, "That's not what your face says."
Brittany relaxes, "I was just thinking – "
"About ending this session early?" Santana jokes.
"No," Brittany rolls her eyes playfully, "I was just thinking about how brave you are."
Santana looks surprised, almost disbelieving.
"All that stuff that happened to you; you could've switched schools, you could've changed your name and got a face lift, "Brittany rambles, "You could've dropped off the face of the Earth but you didn't. You still walk around the school like you own it even if you're afraid. I think that makes you brave."
"Or stubborn," Santana smirks, "Apparently I get that from my dad's side."
"Damnit Santana," Brittany grumbles though she smiles, "I'm trying to compliment you. Can you just take it? You don't always have to fight me. You do have good qualities about you even if everyone's trying to tell you otherwise."
Santana rests back in her chair and her brow is quirked but it's not in that challenging way Brittany's used to. It's more so impressed or maybe surprised? Either way, the smirk remains and Brittany awaits whatever snarky thing she's bound to say in reply.
"You've had chocolate powder on your nose this entire time," Santana notes instead, "Right on the tip. It's been very distracting."
Brittany's jaw drops and she quickly goes to wipe it off with the back of her hand. Sure enough, there's chocolate powder there and her cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment while Santana laughs her ass off.
"You're so hilarious, Santana," Brittany says sarcastically before she's reaching for Santana's discarded marshmallows and winds up to hurl one at her.
"Don't you dare, Pierce!" Santana laughs as she goes to hide behind her book.
"It's payback!"
"Take the high road!"
"Never!"
Soon marshmallows and wadded up napkins are being thrown back and forth while the baristas just watch from behind the counter laughing, "You guys are cleaning that up!"
Brittany just gives them a thumbs up before Santana's pelting her with a ball of crumbled up notebook paper.
\\\\\
For once, Santana actually feels genuine happiness.
It's been a long time, so long in fact that she can't remember the last time she felt happy but she's sure it doesn't involve Brittany. The past two weeks have been a blur for her. Not because they're so monotonous that the days blend into one, but because of how much lighter she feels now that she's being honest and open about everything.
Okay, maybe not everything and maybe she's not being honest and open with everyone but she's trying. For the first time, she actually feels like she's getting somewhere. With Brittany around, Santana feels like so much more is possible. To have someone like her rooting for her is something Santana's rarely experienced.
Sure, she has Quinn but with Brittany it hits differently and Santana might think she knows why.
It's silly, but she's started to count the number of times Brittany has smiled at her. Sometimes they're whispering about something in class and Santana will catch it from the corner of her eye. Sometimes she sees it from the other end of the hallway through the sea of students – it's like a beacon, a the light from a lighthouse guiding her through. Sometimes it's the first thing she sees when Brittany pulls off her helmet at the end of a game.
Santana finds her gaze lingering longer on those pretty pink lips, just watching the way they move around words that never quite reach her ears because her pounding heart drowns them out.
Santana has a pretty good streak going so far when it comes to seeing Brittany smile her way, but she's sure she would die the day she break it – if that day were to ever come.
She's hoping it never does.
But, Santana isn't the only one who has taken a closer look at their budding friendship.
\\
Santana's on her way to her locker with her books clutched against her chest and her head held high like always when out of nowhere JBI slides into her path.
She instantly scoffs at him.
"Why are you in my way?" She demands.
"Santana Lopez, Co-Captain of the Cheerios and dating the star quarterback Brittany S. Pierce," JBI says into his mic with that smug grin of his on his face.
Santana grits her teeth even though the hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. It's a big accusation and Santana hates how her heart both skips a beat before it plummets.
"Care to comment?" JBI prompts.
"We're not dating," Santana says firmly before shoving the mic out of her face. She tries to walk around him and get out of there as fast as she can but he cuts her off again.
"Our sources have spotted you two together at numerous locations over the last couple of weeks," JBI replies, "Seems like we're going to get a repeat of last year?"
Santana rolls her eyes. If she wasn't holding onto her books, her fists would be balled at her sides, itching to punch him square in the throat. That's exactly what he wants out of her though. He wants a show and he knows just what to say to get one.
"We were studying," Santana says evenly. Really, she shouldn't even be explaining herself but there's this tug of fear at the back of her mind that urges her to be on the defense.
"Studying? Is that what the kids call it these days?" He asks slyly.
Santana gives him a look, "What the hell does that even mean?"
"It means you two are totally hooking up," JBI looks pleased with himself. He can see he's starting to wear Santana down and if he keeps at it, she'll give him a show.
"How do you come to that conclusion?" Santana she retorts before brushing past him. She can see what he's doing and yet she still manages to get one foot caught in his web.
She tries to walk away, but she goes about three steps before he's reeling her back in. 
"You tell me," JBI sneers, "You're the one with a history of sucking face in public areas. Who's to say Brittany isn't your new conquest? I’m sure no one at this school would complain if another video of you and – "
Santana whirls on him and she's griping her books so tightly they're sure to snap. She's about two seconds away from losing it, so she tries to at least breathe before she accidentally kicks JBI's ass. 
“It’s not going to happen,” Santana threatens, "Leave her out of this."
JBI only grins, “So there is something going on between you two?”
Santana just huffs, “Fuck off, JBI.”
"Now you're refusing to answer the question? Interesting. Your closeness at Homecoming should've been the first indicator that something was up," JBI smirks as he turns to his camera friend, “You heard it here first, McKinley.”
Santana shakes her head, "You know what? I'm not doing this. I'm not going to get dragged onto your bullshit gossip blog again. Nothing is going on, so drop this before I go all Lima Heights on your ass."
"You don't scare me anymore," JBI stands tall, "Not after your very public downfall. That video of you running down the hall crying last year still has the most hits out of all my vids."
Santana's chest feels tight and she's afraid if she were to speak her voice would crack. She's both infuriated and humiliated but which overpowers the other? Is she going to let JBI run his mouth? Should she just ignore him and go about her day? She can't; she can't let him get away with peddling rumors about her again – not when they involve Brittany too.
She feels so conflicted, because despite how false these rumors are no one would believe her if she told the truth anyway. This school is so damn backwards they’ll listen to this dweeb with a mic before they hear the truth – especially when it comes to her private life. This is why she’s so hellbent on keeping everything she feels under wraps! You give these people an inch and they take a mile.
"Listen," Santana takes a threatening step forward. Her voice drips into something low and gravely, "You got away with it last time but I'm not playing games with you anymore so watch your goddamn mouth. This isn't like last year. Bree's not around to back you up."
"I don't need Bree," He says shakily, "You're not as high and mighty as you think you are. Your only saving grace now is that you're still somehow a Cheerio. Other than that? You're all talk."
Santana looks back at him in disbelief, "Is that so?"
JBI doesn't get a chance to reply before Santana's dropping her books and going to kick him between the legs. The shriek he lets out echoes down the hall but Santana doesn't stop. She goes for the camera-kid next and rips the camera from his hands before smashing it on the ground, pleased to see it shatter into chunks of plastic.
JBI scrambles to his feet and they begin to shove at each other while the camera-kid just stares wide-eyed at the mess that was once his beloved camera.
All Santana sees is red as students start to gather around them. Despite what she might say, Santana's not much of a fighter but JBI isn't much of one either so the match up is pretty even. Santana just swings her arms, hoping to land at least half of the blows she wants. All of this pent of frustration that's been building since last year has finally found an exit and its target is JBI.
It isn't until Mr. Schue notices the ruckus and rushes in to break it up.
"Woah!" He shouts, "What is going on here?"
"She assaulted me!" JBI cries before hiding behind the teacher.
"Like hell I did," Santana snaps and lunges at JBI again, "You haven't seen assault yet!"
"Hey!" Mr. Schue holds her back, "Principal's office, both of you. Let's go."
Santana only manages to grab her books before she's being pushed to towards the office with Mr. Schue's hand on her shoulder and JBI whimpering next to her. God, all she wants to do is kick him again for the dramatics – he really knows how to play an audience.
Just as they're about to cross the science wing, Santana spots her best friend in the crowd. Quinn is giving her a worried look but Santana's sure that one glance at JBI will have her connecting the dots. With him around, trouble always follows closely behind Santana.
Afterall, how long is she meant to take all of this crap before she actually does something about it? She didn't lash out at Bree. She didn't lash out with JBI. She didn't lash out at the entire school, so what the hell do they expect from her now?
She's been angry and frustrated about everything for so long and she has been bottling it up, trying to save face and make it to graduation but at what cost? She has to deal with it at school and at home and she can't do it anymore – something's gotta give, but what?
She's just tired.
She's been tired and she's so over being afraid of what everyone thinks about her. This isn’t anything like who she use to be. She use to feel confident in herself, she use to walk around the school like she owned – and maybe on the outside, it still looks that way. Inside though, she’s a wreck. Was it all an act or was she truly fearless? She’s been playing both sides for so long, she can’t even remember what’s real anymore.
All she knows it that she’s over it all and there comes a time when you have to start doing something about it.
For Santana, that time starts now.
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hypo-critic-al · 3 years
Text
I got tagged by @the-gay-prometheus so here I am! Thanks for tagging, I am finally doing a tag for this once, I always forget to do them :D
So let’s begin:
1. Why did you choose your url?
Because I’m a hypocrite myself! I originally wanted to name myself a hypo.critical not only for my obvious characteristic but also because prefix ‘‘hypo’’ usually means low, and critical as a short for critical thinking so it means I’m not only a hypocrite but I also lack critical thinking which got me into troubles multiple times, heh.
I also considered to change it to something like ‘‘frankenstein’s sparrow’’ a first month I arrived here because I like the sparrow bird symbolicity in the Frankenstein musical but then I let it be :p
2. Any side blogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them
None!
3. How long have you been on Tumblr?
Since end of a January 2021. And I still consider myself a newbie :3
4. Do you have a queue tag?
I never queued up a post! I am scared to let this site to post my post when I don’t expect it, I find something nice in posting stuff myself, it just feels more personal for me I think.
5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?
Ooh, a long story. I’ve been a fan of Frankenstein musical and J&H musical and patiently waited on YouTube for any fandom activity, like animatics, videos and comments. After a while I noticed that many of those channels have their own Tumblr page. I think that @dragonheadskilax’es blog was the first one I found out about and I remember I went to Tumblr each day just to see if he posted something! I discovered other J&H musical blogs and also infamous brightgoat’s blog and after two months of visiting those blogs everyday without an account I decided to make one just to follow those people. So I did :)
6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?
I used to like pigeons and sparrows and I also wanted something small in my pfp to symbolize my faith and so I found this pic on Pinterest and that’s it! I had a very simmilar pic on my YouTube account and on my Wattpad account (now inactive!) so I took that picture, changed the colours a bit and ta-dah! 
7. Why did you choose your header?
It’s a quote from the script of Frankenstein musical and it’s not only funny seeing Victor not yelling but whispering the ‘’It’s alive!’’ quote. Plus, I can’t imagine Hunter Foster delivering this line xD
8. What’s your post with the most notes?
So apparently it’s a ‘’Rainy days in ingolstadt’’ pencil comic I did not very long ago. Which I’m delighted for but also: how can have a lazy clervalstein comic I did in like 20 minutes have most notes than those posts of talented and more skilled arists? Seriously, 107 notes is too much considered how beautifully can other people draw, much better than me! But thank you nevertheless, I’m glad you enjoy my art :3
9. How many mutuals do you have?
Lets see... 36! That’s plenty! :0
10. How many followers do you have?
114! That’s a lot, woah- THANK YOU! Big thanks for anyone willing to follow me :’D. 
The first one follower I can see was @literary-ly! And @the-gay-sailor followed soon after! So you are my oldest followers which I’m thankful for :)
11. How many people do you follow?
89! And I hope it will be more! Show me your Frankenstein and gothic lit content!! :D
12. Have you ever made a shitpost?
Well.. depends on a definition of what a shitpost is.
Anyway, Victor Frankenstein has lost his v-card on top of his mother’s grave-
13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?
Too much for my own good.
14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?
No! I did not and I hope I won’t have to get into an argument ever!
15. How do you feel about 'you need to reblog this’ posts?
Depends on what is their purpose and message.
16. Do you like tag games?
I do! I always say I’ll do this and that tag but then I’m too lazy to actualy do it, heh.
17. Do you like ask games?
Sure! Why not :>
18. Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?
Hmm... I am a mutual with some of more famous blogs but I never interacted with them beyond a comment or two so I’ll say that: @mist-the-mad-linguist,  @casual-owl, @corvidayyy and @silken-sails, and @the-gay-sailor, and @toringo , and uhh... everyone is famous here, really! And a plenty of Gravely Celebrators too! 
19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?
No! I don’t hehe :)*
20. Tags:
Hm, everyone that comes into my mind has been tagged already besides my most beloved friend so I’ll say @the-gay-sailor! And @toringo! And everyone who sees this post and wants to do this! Only if you want :3
Thanks again for tagging me! It was fun :D
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gildedmuse · 4 years
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Yes, please. More ZoLaw... How about AU ideas?
Oh, I have ton of AU ideas. Some of which I have like 11 pages of co-brainstorming, some of which I've written up summaries roughly the length of some of which are just two words: [blank] Zoro / [Blank] Law. Here's the best list I can put together while on my way to work.
Okay, Hear Me Out. A ZoLaw Fic Where....
Zoro Is Law's Marine Bodyguard....
After Corazon dies, the navy does some digging. Years later they learn about Law and insist he is in danger as Doflamingo has located him as well. A young marine, Zoro, is assigned to guard him
Law Is A Marine & Roronoa Zoro Is His Obsession...
Or Law follows in Corazon's footsteps and becomes a marine. He sort of takes Tashigi's place as Smoker's sidekick second in command. So he's there in Lougetown when the Strawhats breeze into town. and the two develope an... Intense rivalry in which Law is determined to hunt down the cocky young swordsman (mostly because he feels like a fool... Why in the world would be agree to a fight without using his devil's fruit? What kind of argument is "it's cheap" anyway? Why the hell had he been thinking?) while Zoro enjoys taunting the handsome, moody marine he kicked the ass off back in Lougetown (or totally would have if they hadn't been interrupted).
Just wait until Law follows him all the way to Dressrosa. He's been avoiding meeting The Heavenly Demon since he became a marine, so why they hell is he willing to follow this green haired pirate hunter into the devil's own home?
Zoro Hates All Doctors (Except Law) (And Also It's A College AU Because Why Not?)
Modern AU where Law is an overworked med student filling shifts at the student clinic and Zoro is a at University on a kendo scholarship, preparing for the olympics. He has a knack for getting injured (it doesn't help that his coach, Mihawk Dracula, doesn't believe in pulling punches... Or whatever the sword equivalent is). Still, he absolutely hates going to the clinic. One day Law is taking out some tension at the gym practicing with his own blade when Zoro gets badly hurt. Law rushes over to help, and since Zoro isn't really in a position to say no he has to let the young doctor help him.
After that whenever Zoro gets injured he still refuses to go to a doctor. What he does do is lurk outside the student clinic (typically with Luffy in toe to keep him company - even if your injured and tired, you can never get too bored with Luffy as your best friend) until Law gets tired of it and makes him come in so he can fix up whatever he's managed to injure this time.
The clinic receptionist - Perona - doesn't find this cute at all. Mostly because Zoro is typically sweaty and gross and the Monkey boy is just annoying. His fellow student interns Shachi and Penguin are just impressed Law has put up with him this long (they did ask if the Kendo scene attracted a lot of girls, but Law's blank stare pretty much answered that one) while Assistant Professor and Physician Marco thinks it's adorable but is kind enough to only tease Law about it occasionally (he doesn't ask about fangirls in the kendo scene since he's pretty much certain that's not Zoro's scene either way).
Of the two tenured professors who officially oversee the clinic, Dr. Crocus has never said anything to Law about the whole situation except for letting him know when Zoro is waiting outside. He does, however, sometimes bring Zoro and Luffy by snacks or something to drink and has even kept them company an few times. No need for the two of them to wait out there with no one looking out for them (and, yes, they clearly need someone looking out for them). On the other hand Dr. Kureha has never believed in cuddling her students. The exact opposite actually. She started by telling Law he'd best take his pet home since he couldn't have it here all day ("Pet? What pet? Whoever it is, it's not mine, Dr. Kureha-ya." / "So that green haired stray and his little monkey friend don't belong to you?" / "Green hai- Urg."), Which eventually evolved to her telling him this was a clinic not a dating service ("He's not... *Sigh*") and finally came to the point where she just snips st Law for not being able to control even a simple minded athlete then how does he plan to deal with actual problem patients? She's also made a point of telling Zoro off - it pretty obvious that even when he does come by the clinic he only does so after either accumulating multiple injuries or continuing to push one until it gets far worse than needed. Is the boy an idiot? Why wait until things are so bad, and why is he wasting the time of one of her top students? If he wants to stalk one of the postgrads he could at least pick a less talented one. There are plenty to choose from.
Marco tried to make up for this lecture (after which Zoro stayed away for three months until he almost lost an eye) by offering to let Zoro and Luffy wait in the actual clinic to wait. (To which Luffy helpfully announces, "Zoro isn't waiting for the clinic, he's waiting for Toroa." Which kinda makes Zoro want to strangle his best friend but since he's currently holding a towel up to his eye and feels pretty sick at the thought of not making these games because he's an idiot, he only managed an apologetic smile and mentally promises himself to pinch Luffy later. Marco is totally unsurprised by this answer, for what it's worth.)
(Also, it turns out Kendo does attract at least a couple of girls, at least at the Olympics level. It's probably more accurate to say that Dracule Mihawk and Roronoa Zoro attract attention, which Law only learns because he was heading home after his shift and saw a bit if activity around the gymnasium and wandered over purely out of curiosity and somehow accidentally ended up watching Zoro's match. And that randomly happened a couple of times. Look, the best parking is by the gym he practically has to walk by to get to his car. He isn't going out of his way. And he has a valid reason to be interested in kendo. (Also, appro of nothing, Tashigi seems like an annoying know it all and Hiyori seems like a silly teenage girl and why is Perona even here?)
Shanks Uses His Yonko Status For It's Highest Purpose - Mischief
While sailing to Wano, they stop at an island to gather supplies when they are ambushed. It turns out to be one occupied by the Head Haired Pirates. Before anyone can attcak, Shanks steps into view, smiling. He greets Kin'emon and Kunjuro (they were with the Roger pirates for a while). Robin, Franky and Usopp he recognizes as friends of Luffy. Weirdly, he calls Zoro 'Mihawk'ss boy'. Law corrects him as Zoro is also in the Strawhats. Shanks laughs because while that may be true, he's met Zoro and he's Mihawk's boy to him. Law seems unhappy with this description, while Zoro just rolls his eyes, calling Shanks an old pervert and to stop messing around. Despite everyone else freaking out, Shanks laughs it off. He insists surely Mihawk would be the pervert in that situation. Law dislikes the whole conversation. It only gets worse when it turns out they have to stay on the island two weeks, and Mihawk is visiting as well. Under Shank's bad influence (and seeing how such comments got under the other Captain's skin even if he wouldn't admit to it) he convinced Mihawk to join him in creating some mischief (Shanks is a terrible influence).
Law Is Working For Doflamingo, Gathering Information On & Chain Off Rookie Pirates
Instead of Bellemy, the crew find Law right before Skypea. He is also (secretly) working for Doflamingo. Typically it's his job to narrow out the herd, and for the pirates that might make it to the second half of the Grand Line, his job is to gather information that may be useful in "convincing" them over to Doflamingo's side later or else can be useful in eliminating them if they become a threat.
Unlike Bellamy, it takes Law only one conversation in the bar to determine that the Strawhats aren't your average pirates. Their captain's open, naive nature makes gathering information on them rather straight forward. Which is how Law determines that his biggest advantage is his crews loyalty, and none seem more so than his handsome swordsman. Luffy seems to naturally open and unashamed to be able to gather blackmail material on, but Law's willing to bet if you own Zoro, you'd more or less own the captain. So he sets out to do just that.
Swords Are Cats
Zoro owns three infamous crazy cats. Law is a vet. Look, this is an AU in which Swords are cats. Zoro has two in particular that no vet is willing (or able) to get anywhere near. When Wado gets sick, though, he shows up to The Heart Veterinary Clinic (it sounds like such a cheesy name he already can't stand it) with all three in toe. Best to get everything done at once since it's unlikely they'll ever be allowed back again. Sure enough, Shisui just has to start the trip off by escaping when Zoro is checking in.
Law is in his office when he notices Kikoku is gone, which is strange. She usually likes to stick by his side. He goes looking for her and is surprised to find her hiding under the receptionist desk, curled up peacefully with another cat. He holds up the strange tomcat only to very nearly lose an eye. Zoro catches the poor thing midair when Law stumbles back from surprise, honestly just thankful to find him before he caused any damage.
Law takes one look at Zoro and the three cats and instantly knows two things:
A. Oh, so these are the demon cats he was warned about by Tashigi and Pica and Wanda and even Shanks who seems like he can put up with almost any animal
B. He's definitely going to get these cats to like him, if only to ensure that Zoro back.
Law Ends Up On Kuraigana Island
Incredibly simple What If premise. What if instead of fighying two pacsifistas alongside the Kid pirates, the Heart Pirates wind up on the battle field with the Strawhats. When the real Kuma shoes up, Law gets a little too close to the action and is sent along with Zoro to Kuraigana Island. This has everything you need in an AU. Zoro and Law going from complete strangers to friendly rivalry to sexual tension because they're stuck on an island for two years together. A possible love triangle with Mihawk. Perona being either an annoying bratty sister to Zoro (who in fairness beat up her crew) while openlh crushing on a disinterested Law or a Perona silently shipping the two of them long before they even take any real notice of each other (I'm guessing she'd talk about it with her hallows). Bonus points for scenes of The Heart Pirates trying desperately to find their beloved captain.
I'm kidding. Bonus points for adding Mihawk in the mix and making it a triangle filled with possessiveness, jealousy and a totally unaware he's in the middle of it all Zoro. That's my jam.
They Were Childhood Friends (Who Haven't Seen Each Other In Years)
Sometimes, all an AU needs to be is a romamtic comedy formula lifted wholesale and recontextualized to fit whatever fandom you're into. So, yeah. Law and Zoro grow up at the same dojo but haven't seen each other in years, then suddenly Law is sitting there in ten Sabaody auction house when the something crashes through the roof, and that something looks a lot like a boy he hasn't seen since he left the dojo at 18. Or, hey, maybe Law catches a wanted poster of "his little brother" while sailing on the Grand Line and decides to track him down just to see how he's doing. And probably he was totally unaware that at 13/14 years old, Zoro had just about the biggest crush in the world on him.
Although most the Strawhats definitely know. Or at least figure it out damn quickly. It's kind of hard to miss how their badass swordsman suddenly can't make eye contact or flushes at the slightest provocation. ("Do you think the Heart captain realizes?"/"Maybe it's just because Zoro looked up to him. I mean, I can't imagine him actually LIKING someone."/"Oh, come off it, you'd have to be blind not to see!"/"I think it's sweet that our swordsman-san still holds such a place for what must have been his first major crush."/"Yeah, who know Zoro-bro could be such a romantic!")
Strawhats antics ensue.
Law Uses His Shichibukai Connections For Something Other Than Revenge (So Sex. Sex and Revange.)
After becoming a Shichibukai, Law meets Mihawk at an official summon and picks up on the fact that Zoro is training there. Having promised Luffy he would look it to his nakama's safety should be discover them (something he had thought would never happen) he follows Mihawk back to the island to see how Zoro's training holds up.
Perona Is Zoro's Older Sister, Just To Create Drama
AU where Perona is Zoro's older sister. She hangs out with a much darker, edgier crowd than Zoro approves of. He find Law especially questionable and not just because they seem to have a 'thing' (in my mind Zoro is in high school while Perona and Law are not in college. He's heard about the way college boys often are and he doesn't really understand that all their relationship is entirely casual, and most the time when he catches Perona cuddling up to him, it's just her being cutesy (and because she knows that while it annoys Law a little, he won't do anything to stop him). He also doesn't understand why every time he tries to confront Law about it he ends up feeling so flustered. (Not that Law is about to openly hit on his friend's little brother, but some teasing never hurt)
There's Only One Bed. Because There Is ALWAYS A Story With Only One Bed
The Polar Tang and Sunny are stolen while the two crews are meeting up, talking over a plan to take down Blackbeard (okay fine, LAW is doing all the planning). Luckily, Shanks just happens to be passing by and offers them a lift, but as big as his ship is, three whole crews take up a lot of space. And despite Shanks (joking) offer to let Zoro share his bed, Law is the one who ends up stuffed into a single hammock with the Swordsman.
Law Tries To Sleep With His Uncle's Partner (Not As Terrible As If Sounds)
Law's uncle Corazon works in Law enforcement. He talks endlessly about his new rookie partner to the point of Law's annoyance. Until Corazon brings the young green haired detective home for dinner.
Law Is The Ship Doctor For The Strawhats Pirates
Corazon lives and runs off with Law, who grows up to be a doctor. One day, a pirate ships sails to their island. They have a sick crew member and desperate for help. Law doesn't help pirates, but then the corrupt ruler of their island has Corazon arrested and locked up, claiming he's found his true identity and plans to sell him out to his brother. They come for Law, but the Strawhats save him despite his refusal to help them (Luffy doesn't mind, he's sure Torao has his reasons and anyway Corazon is an amazing man who gave them a free lunch and he's sure Torao is just as good.) The Strawhats rescue Corazon, kick out the evil ruler and bring peace back to the island. Law finds himself compelled to accompany them.
Law Tutors Zoro (In The Ways Of Love Math)
Zoro's life is way too stressful. Between kendo competitions, a job that doesn't pay enough, a second job that's a bit questionable not too mention school. He doesn't even care about most that stuff, but if he wants to be the greatest at his sport, the rest is sort of necessary. Like training. One thing he definitely needs more training in is school work. Zoro has to keep a certain GPA to keep his Kendo scholarship. Luffy insists he knows the perfect tutor, and while Zoro isn't so sure about Luffy's judgement on intelligence, he trusts his friend. Enter Trafalgar Law, college senior who tutors on the side. Oh, and - as he casually mentions at the end of their first session that he's seen Zoro at his job. No, not as at the restaurant, but the online videos. And he has to say, he's quite the fan.
There are a few I didn't manage to get to tonight, despite being some of my favorites. Maybe later, when work has not drained the life out of me, you can hear about...
Drummer Zoro/Med Student Law
Marine Law/Revolutionary Zoro
Marine Law/Marine Zoro
Police Zoro/ME Law
Rock Star Law / Bodyguard Zoro
Biker Gang Zoro / Anarchist Group Law
Kendo Olympic Champion Zoro / Sports Doctor Law
Kendo Rivals Zoro / Law
Evil Doflamingo Pirate Law / Captive Zoro
Samurai Zoro / Ninja Law
Detective Zoro / Art Thief Law
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nev3rfound · 4 years
Text
slither of optimism left : s.r
brief summary: along with bucky, after steve was presumed dead you were taken by hydra and made into their weapon. after seventy long years, you’re used in a mission to infiltrate a shield base, unaware of who exactly is inside
word count: 2.6k requested: yes by the very very patient @carinacassiopeiae - honestly you’ve waited so long for this, i really hope you like it  warnings: none that immediately come to mind, but if there are any do let me know
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved. - thank you to everyone who helped regarding the wattpad situation, you’re all amazing)
masterlistin’ /  permanent taglist
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You had no idea what had happened after that man approached you. Pieces of the events that took place that night haunt your memories as you picture a man holding a knife, muttering words that made no sense to you then, but soon would become your entire life.
Before everything, you were a young girl with ambitions to work for a company upstate. You’d been well educated, as best you could for a woman and had it all planned out. But that was before the war, and before you lost two of your closest friends to it all.
To the world, they lost Captain America and members of the Howling Commandos. Yet you lost so much more than that, you lost Steve Rogers, your first and only love alongside your best friend, Bucky Barnes. The duo was always there for you, on hand to cheer you up whenever required. Bucky would always encourage you to say something to Steve, ensuring you the feeling was mutual.
It took a long time for you say anything to Steve about how you felt, but once your feelings were shared you never looked back as he returned a new man, one you adjusted to, but loved nonetheless.
They promised it would be one last mission and then they’d be home, and in truth, it was their last mission; just not in the way they anticipated it. 
*
“He, he can’t be.” You tremble as the words leave your lips with despair hanging from every syllable.
Lifting your eyes up, you see her red lips locked in a straight line as she nods, remaining silent. Men stand behind her in a line, holding their hats at their chests as their eyes avoid yours.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” Peggy sits beside you, her hand resting on your upper arm. “He truly cared about you.” A smile ghosts Peggy's lips, remembering Steve’s last words before they lost connection to him.
“I, I never got the chance to say a real goodbye.” The realisation hits you in the chest, sending you back as your heart begins to numb. “He, he’s never coming home.” Tears fall from your eyes as you stare straight ahead, forgetting the presence of Peggy and the soldiers as your mind remains in an easier, simpler time. *
The meeting that took place with Peggy didn’t end as it should have. You were escorted from the building as you tried to hold your head high, stop the tears cascading down your cheeks. But you only made it a few feet from the doors before you felt a pair of hands cover your nose and mouth, seeing your eyes widen to the knife before they blurred.
When you first woke up, everything hurt. Never before had you felt the intense burning throughout your body like that. You’d often ran after Steve after pinching a loaf of bread and catching a ride back into town on the end of a truck, but that burn was filled with satisfaction. What you experienced initially was pure fire through your veins, itching to be released.
You had no idea what time it was, who had held you or where you were. The questions that plagued your mind weren’t answered for almost several days as you were starved inside of a cell, your left wrist chained to the wall.
Once you met the figure behind everything, the events that took place are faint in your mind, but the evidence lines your skin. You were taken, beaten, tortured for information on Captain America. *
“I told you,” You cry out. “I don’t know!” You scream as another blade is sliced across your thigh as you wish to curl up and hideaway, but the chains and ropes you’re attached to leave you fully exposed for their fun.
“You do know, Y/n.” A soldier tuts as he wipes the blood from his knife along his sleeve, the HYDRA logo never tainted in the process. “We will get the information from you, one way or another.” He tickles the knife along your temple, moving it away before it penetrates your skin with a sick laugh.
You’re released from the restraints and dragged back to your cell, left once more to suffer in silence along with those hidden behind the large doors that line the corridors you pass every time. *
Years of your life were lost to the restraints of HYDRA, even when you were put into cyro you could hear the things being discussed. You were stuck, without a way out.
At least, that’s what you thought.
It was going to be another mission, alongside the infamous Winter Soldier you heard plenty about. Yet, despite his ranking, your paths had never crossed.
The doors to your room were opened and three men walked in. “Miss.” The man with the green eyes nodded, and you swiftly followed behind him in silence.
You were led down various corridors you knew hid their experiments, many having been performed on you. “Here,” Green eyes motions to a large wooden door with the HYDRA symbol etched into the oak. “he’ll be in there, waiting for you.”
Without having a chance to question who, the doors are opened for you. Someone pushes you inside and shuts the doors before you’re able to process.
“So, you’re her?” The hairs on the back of your neck rise as you mutter nonsense under your breath. “We can’t stay here, we’re needed on the jet.” He instructs, not caring about you keeping your back turned to him.
Slowly, you turn around and catch a glimpse of their Winter Soldier, your oldest friend, Bucky Barnes.
You sat in silence on the jet as you listened to the plan in question. No one was to survive on the opposing side, SHIELD was too much of a threat to spare anyone involved.
Occasionally, you glanced over at Bucky, but he wasn’t the same. You heard the stories of what HYDRA did to him, but knowing it’s him breaks your heart all over again.
“Stop staring.” He tells you bluntly, ignoring your quiet apology before looking up at you. As Bucky focuses on you, something inside of him is screaming out. “Do, do I know you?” He asks as the soldiers remain out of earshot, and he watches as you lift your head up quickly.
“A long time ago, yes.” You mutter. “Do you know who you are?”
A glimmer of hope fades from your gaze as he shakes his head, hiding himself away once more as the soldiers return with the weapons of choice.
“You don’t get out much, do you?” Bucky questions, still keeping his gaze averted from yours.
You knew you shouldn’t be talking to him, not this version of him in this situation. HYDRA kept a close eye on him, and entail, a close eye on you. “Is it that obvious?” You try to joke, but it feels disingenuous. “They mostly keep me asleep.” You mutter, focusing your attention on your gun as you place it into your holster.
“It gets easier with time.” Bucky mumbles as he rises to his feet, you following suit as the barriers descend, revealing a man in a black suit before you both.
“Soldiers.” He nods curtly to the pair of you, a title you’ll never fully adjust to. “All we need you to do is get intel and leave, do not engage with that inside of the SHIELD base. Is that understood?” His eyes fixate on you, the cold green sends a shiver through your spine.
“Understood.” You respond whilst Bucky simply nods, taking out his gun as he walks ahead without you.
“Watch him closely, we don’t want to lose another soldier, Y/n.” The man comments as you walk past, ignoring the cold smirk across his lips as his eyes follow you.
Following closely behind Bucky, he stands beside a tall window. “Get up.” He holds his hands out, but you flinch away. “I won’t hurt you.” He mutters, his eyes on yours and you swear you can almost see a glimpse of Bucky, your Bucky.
“Okay.” You whisper, forcing back every image of the guards grabbing you, the Doctors experimenting on you, torturing you and throwing you aside like dirt.
Bucky hoists you up and you silently climb through the window, disabling the alarm whilst Bucky finds another route in. Cover as much ground as possible, but leave together- that was a requirement, not an option.
Looking around, all you can see are tall grey walls, some painted with numbers as the evening lights illuminate the flooring. “I’m on the 3rd floor, soldier.” You mutter through your comms unit, but Bucky doesn’t respond. “Soldier?” You repeat yourself, only hearing static.
As you turn the corner, you see three armed guards in front of a large metal door. They’re all engaged in conversation, making for the perfect and easiest of targets.
Sliding across one of your tasers, you take a step back as you press the button linked to it as it fires up at the three of them. “Oops.” You mumble as you step over their unconscious bodies, facing the door in question.
It didn’t take you long to override the system, but as you do a series of alarms begin to blare.
“Soldier, what’s your status?” Bucky barks through the comms as you push the door open, immediately seeing files upon files stored.
“I’ve found some files, I’ll gather what I can.” You tell him as you begin to rifle through documents, seeing what exactly could be of use to HYDRA and what is worthless.
Flicking through one file, you glance back into a filing cabinet, filled to the brim. Unable to stop your intrigue, you pull out the file seeing it labelled as ‘Captain America.’
You can feel your heart in your throat as you open it up, seeing a picture of your Steve, the Steve you’ll never forget, no matter how many times you’re brainwashed by HYDRA. Steve was someone locked into your mind, unable to be erased.
“If you wanted to know more about me, just gotta ask.” You tense up as a voice interrupts your thoughts.
Keeping your back turned, you reach for your gun hidden inside of your suit before turning around and aiming it at the man in question.
But as you turn, you lower it from the man's face. “Steve?” Your voice can barely be heard above a whisper as you focus on him. “No, no you, you’re dead.” You tell yourself, more than him as you raise your gun, trying to hide your shaking hands in front of the imposter.
“It can’t be,” Steve speaks up, stepping closer as his shield remains in hand. “I was told you were gone, presumed dead. Y/n, I, it’s me.” He tells you, feeling his heart thudding against his chest at an alarming speed, even for him.
Unable to hold back a short laugh, you smile. “Well, looks like we both got it wrong, Stevie.” You comment. “I, I don’t want to hurt you,” You focus on his eyes, how many nights were spent in his arms looking up at them. “so please, let me leave.” You clear your throat, holding your gun back into position.
“Wait, Y/n, no.” Steve tries to move closer, but you take off the safety. “Are you, are you with them?” You can’t ignore the disgust in his tone or the horror in his eyes as you nod.
“I have no choice, Stevie.” You tell him as tears line your eyes.
“Soldier, mission status?” Bucky chimes in through your comms, and you let out a small gasp.
“They have me, Steve. But, they’ve also got Bucky.” You try to explain. “I know it all sounds insane, but we can’t leave here without information. If, if we don’t come back, they’ll hunt us down.” You plead with Steve, something you didn’t imagine ever having to do.
Steve shakes his head as he reaches out. “I can’t lose you, not when I just got you back.”
“You have to let me go, Steve.” You can’t stop the tears from falling as you fire your gun behind him, shooting a guard as he falls to the ground. “I’m sorry.” You whisper before releasing another enhanced taser, watching as it encaptures him and his shield falls to the ground. “I’ll always love you, Steve.” You hand glides across his cheek as he tries to fight the restraints, but it’s no use.
“Soldier, mission status!” Bucky yells as you grab the files on Captain America, firing at guards and dodging bullets before finding an exit.
“I’m out. Where are you?!” You’re screaming to Bucky as you see your ride out of here insight.
As you run you can feel yourself being weighed down. Not physically, but emotionally. All you can picture is the look of betrayal on Steve’s face, your Stevie after all this time.
“I’m on the jet.” Bucky tells you and you let out a sigh of relief, seeing a figure waiting for you.
But no sooner does the figure raise an arm, it’s encapsulated by an explosion, knocking you back.
“NO!” You scream, looking up at the flames, oblivious to a pair of arms grabbing you, all you can hear are your cries for Bucky as your ears ring senselessly. “Bucky!” You cry out, coughing violently as you look above you, seeing blonde hair covering his forehead.
“You’ll be okay, Y/n.” You listen to his faint voice but focus on his eyes. “We’ll keep you safe.”
*
“So, she’s an old friend, huh?” A voice questions with a light laugh, one unknown to you as you begin to come round.
As you begin to open your eyes, a hand rests on your shoulder, but you’re too weak to fight it off. “Hey, you’re okay. Just, take it easy.” Steve mutters, still trying to comprehend how you’re even here.
Steve watches as your eyes dart around the room, scoping out every possible exit. “B,Bucky?” You stutter, looking up at Steve as you remain tied down to a hospital bed.
Your eyes glance over to another man who lowers his head. “We couldn’t find his body.” Steve tells you, and all you can do is nod, hoping that he might be out there somewhere, away from HYDRA.
“What’re you going to do with me?” You question bluntly, raising an eyebrow, ignoring the pain searing across your forehead.
“How’d you feel about working for us?” The stranger asks you. “I’m Sam.”
“Is this a joke?” You scoff, but as Steve mutters your name, you sigh. “You’re not joking.”
“Y/n, you’ve been under HYDRA’s control for almost seventy years. We know snippets of your history, what happened in there. But, but we want to help you, I, I want to help you.” Steve explains, his fingertips brushing across your cheek.
“They’ll kill me.” You comment, moving your head to remove Steve’s soft touch you once loved. “I’m not the same Y/n, Steve.”
“And I’m not the same Steve, Y/n.” He retorts. “Just, let us help you. If you’re not comfortable, you can go. We can help you start again.”
Focusing on Steve, you can still see the boy who refused to back down from a fight in the alleys of Brooklyn. There’s still something in there that reminds you of home, of what once was. Maybe there’s hope for you, that you can have a fresh start, that you won’t have to return to the restraints of HYDRA.
“Okay, Stevie.” You nod to him, smiling up to him as your hand reaches out for his, feeling his fingertips resting on yours. “I’ll give it my best shot.”
t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️
@biss-stuff​   @psychicforest​  @lourightm​ @mywinterwolf​   @justsomedreaming​ @stanlux17​ @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx​ @courtneychicken​ @marvelsangels @supraveng @tommy-lee-81 @fandom-princess-forevermore @sarge-barnes-sir @pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated–fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs​ @eldahae​ @handmesomecoffee 
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oikawas-fav-alien · 4 years
Text
Dominant | Taichi Kawanishi x Reader
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✧ Summary: Student body president to the most renown school in the Miyagi Prefecture, it made you wonder how Kawanishi, a regular on the infamously dominant volleyball team, was such a lazy jackass.
warnings: language, otherwise none, rated K+ :)
✧ Masterlist  ✧
As the student body president, it was your sworn duty to uphold the high ethics as a student and leader. Many often described your personality as rough or overly haughty from your mean-looking resting face. However, they continued to vote for you simply because you were the most qualified and your very presence screamed authority. You wanted to pursue politics in the future and therefore treated the role professionally. In your first-year, you were already elected as a delegate to the student government. Second-year, you were the vice president. And in your third-year you were the highest position possible. The only thing that kept you held back before was the very fact that underclassmen were not allowed to run as president.
You used the position as practice and cared for your potential constituents. There were a few major players here and there, thankfully they were your friends. Growing up alongside Ushijima and Tendou had their benefits. If you had the favor of the volleyball team, you might as well have the whole school crawling in the palm of your hand. Thankfully, none of the people actually on the team could run for student government since they were so busy with the sport. To win over the rest of the student body, there was a fairly popular second-year student who came from a wealthy family that many just looked up to. You often questioned why she did not run for student govt. and once asked her why.
After spotting her at the library, you decided on approaching the girl, “You would be perfect and I don’t see why not.”
“Thanks senpai, but nah. After you’ve seen the shit that I’ve seen... You wouldn’t want to be the leader of such arrogant little sheep.”
You laughed at her metaphor and asked, “I didn’t know sheep could be conceited?”
“Of course! They’ll give you all the attitude in the world, but still follow you in the end.” She joked. Behind her you recognized the light tuft of brown hair that indicated the presence of the current starting setter of the volleyball team.
“It’s a pleasure to see you, Shirabu-kun.” You nodded to the boy who was waiting for the girl in front of you, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you from your boyfriend.” Almost instantly, they both denied the claim. The both of them were rather sheepish in their words and you wondered really if the two of them did not have something going on.
“That’s cute. Well, when you guys end up going to the spring formal together, be sure to send pictures to the Shiratorizawa Academy page on Instabook!” You advertised to the blushing couple, walking away before they assaulted you with more denials.
You were early to your class and browsed away on said application to see the newest posts. Since you were the secret wielder of the Shiratorizawa page, you saw everything. People were still liking the post of Semi and his girlfriend at the autumn formal and that had been months ago. There were various other couples scattered throughout the page, but when other students saw Semi and his significant other, they could not help but think, “Goals af.”
They were going strong and you could not help but feel a hint of jealousy. You grew up in Shiratorizawa Academy in both junior high and high school and there was not a single person in your year that you were not already previously associated with. The boys were those who were immature or simply someone you did not see pursuing. After seeing Tendou eat four-crayons in fourth-grade or Ohira singing along to the barbie-girl theme song, you could say that your view of many of the boys was incredibly skewed. You knew them for too damn long and there was no way you could date any of them. On the flip-side, the people you spent most of you life with knew your name, face, and outgoing personality more than any other candidate. You won the popular vote with a landslide majority, even during your first-year when three other people were running for the same position. This also came with an obvious disadvantage. Almost everyone knew you and that put yourself in a large spotlight. Your daily life was constantly broadcasted and you had to put on a sunny demeanor even if you were having a bad day. Teachers expected the very best from you and anything less would indicate that you were not prepared to be president, forget being prime minister.
It was unfair of your teachers to take advantage of your position, but you took it with stride and a chin held high. It was your sworn duty and you would not slack on any given responsibility. You would volunteer to help clean a classroom in addition to your duties in student government. To do this and uphold good grades in advanced classes, your social life was nearly obliterated. The only person you kept in daily contact with was him, a new project that a teacher assigned to you almost out of spite.
He was a starting middle-blocker on the volleyball team. That fact in itself made you assume that he was as diligent as Ushijima or his very roommate Shirabu, or really like most of the other members of the male volleyball team. His transcript showed his engagement in advanced classes since junior high. And yet, the teacher aggressively requested that you tutor the young man.
And you learned rather quickly that Kawanishi Taichi was an ass.
It really bothered you that a man with his potential failed to fully utilize it. You had better odds finding Kawanishi asleep in his dorm than in the library with his supposed study group. In advanced, you asked several times for the two of you to meet the group and study there. And more than once, he failed to show up and you simply studied with Shirabu and his not-girlfriend.
After that escapade, you made sure to show-up directly at his door with the reading material, snacks – so he could not complain about being hungry – and enough prayers to Jesus to help you through this trial.
You were sat-up on the edge of his bed, dictating to him which sections of the chapter and the appropriate equations he should memorize for the upcoming exam. Kawanishi was previously sitting next to you, but he opted to lay back with his hands folded behind his head. His roommate, Shirabu, was out (probably studying in the library with you know who.)
You sighed loudly and almost slammed the book shut. “You’re so cute when you’re angry, (F/N).” He commented.
“Flattery won’t help you pass abstract algebra, Kawanishi-kun.”
“I’ve told you to address me by my first name. And hopefully, it’ll get me a date with the most elusive girl on campus.” He slowly drew out.
“And I told you not to.” You sighed again, adding to the innumerable amount, “You were the only one who qualified for college prep classes in your second-year and you’re taking advantage of this by… failing advanced math.” You stated.
“Ouch.”
The pure fact that he shared the same third-year level math class was impressive. You sat in the very front and your attention never strayed from the professor’s lecture and had failed to notice the young-man before. But once you saw Taichi's work ethic up close, you knew he was nearly a lost cause. It was rare for him to study and you only wondered why. The teacher originally told you that Kawanishi had the capacity to be the best in class, only he was barred somehow.
Ugh.
You reiterated the question once more, “Prove that if a and b are nonzero integers for which a | b and b | a, then b = ± a.” You looked over and was not surprised to see that Kawanishi had the audacity to close his eyes! You dropped the book on the ground, startling the boy. “I’m leaving.”
“You have to give me time to think, babe.” You were halfway across the room when he sat-up to write some solution to the problem. Unsure if he was actually doing the question, you went back to look-over his shoulder.
Before you could read to the bottom of the page, he slowly turned his head towards you to say, "Since a | b, there is an integer m with b = ma. Since b | a, there is an integer k with a = kb. Substituting a = kb in the equation b = ma we get b = m(kb), so since b is nonzero we can cancel it to get 1 = mk. Since both m and k are integers, and |1| = |m| · |k|, we must have |m| = 1 and |k| = 1, so either b = a or b = - a.”
You looked back into the book to see that yes, Kawanishi’s answer was correct.
He was giving you his lazy stare, one that even you could not decipher. Kawanishi was waiting on you and you hesitated, completely dumbfounded, “Well… It seems you’re ready for the exam.” You gave a weak excuse and exited from his dorm. He did not fight it and seemed to lie back down as you left.
Kawanishi was an utter conundrum. This was not the first time that he amazed you with his intelligence. You brushed off these previous events as rare, but it seemed to not be the case as time went on. The teacher never indicated he was failing, you only assumed so by the many red-marked on his returned homework assignments. But homework was only a small percentage of the final grade, falling in importance by attendance. Outside of your tutoring sessions, you did not really know Kawanishi in his natural element.
You decided on watching the game between Shiratorizawa and Johzenji High. You spotted other people in the crowd, like the supportive girlfriend of Semi and not-girlfriend of Shirabu, but decided on straying from the rest and sitting elusively alone. Kawanishi was just switching into the game, standing right next to the net. After spending extended time with Tendou in and out of class, you knew the basics to volleyball and his role. It just so happened he shared it with Kawanishi.
He played an offensive and defensive role that competed with the tallest members of team. The tallest person was probably Wakatoshi, but he was middle blocker. After that, Kawanishi seemed to tower over the rest of them – Tendou included. The problem was that Tendou shun so brightly, with his unusual hair and outgoing personality. Everyone was aware of his skill and given nickname, the “Guess Monster.” You could almost call the two middle-blockers opposites. To any outsider, Kawanishi was giving a completely impassive appearance to the enemies on the court. But you knew he was thinking and that the little hamster in his brain was working tenfold. He was capable of blocking the spikes of a certain loudmouthed Johzenji player, who made it necessary to yell at random moments. Kawanishi made it appear as if he was putting little to no effort – probably to keep his cool-looking exterior – but you knew better.
Maybe you judged Kawanishi too quickly?
Shiratorizawa closed both sets in their favor and you made your way down to the court before the crowd could block your way.
“Could I get a picture of the victors to send to the Shiratorizawa page?”
Tendou was eager to nod in agreement before grabbing an underclassmen you recognized as Goshiki Tsutomu and an expressionless Ushijima Wakatoshi. Kawanishi spotted you and looked away, deadpan appearance still displayed on his face.
What the hell was that?
During your private tutoring session, Kawanishi was a man filled with unending charisma and charm. And in this instance, not a full day later, he was ignoring you entirely. Who could possibly explain the paradox that is Kawanishi?
“Why do you want to know so badly, huh?” Tendou supplied your question with not an answer, but another question. You shared an English class with the guess monster and decided that during break, you would ask more about the young middle-blocker.
“You know I tutor him… And I fear that I might have judged him too quickly.”
“He’s an ass.”
“Well, I know that.”
“He doesn’t talk to his teammates much.” He candidly stated, “Kawanishi is very similar to his roommate.”
“Shirabu?” You asked incredulously.
“Yeah, they’re both quiet little shits. They like to sit and observe others around them, only speaking if they were called out. Taichi is quieter than Kenjiro though, the latter is hella salty and has no problems sassing his older ones!”
“Huh.” This description seemed like the opposite one that you were used to. Kawanishi had no problems calling you nicknames and there was never a quiet between the two of you. It seemed like he even took amusement in constantly teasing you.
“Something wrong?”
“Not at all what I expected, that’s all.” You confessed, “He seems pretty lazy.”
“Oh he is!” Tendou interjected, “Don’t get me wrong, Taichi has let a ball hit the ground perfectly in! But he’s smarter than he gives off. We play the same position, but his blocking methods are more experiential. Taichi sticks to read blocking, but when he’s in the zone he guess-blocks like me. And if all else fails, he’ll go for the option he knows he can block.”
“That’s… clever.” You were hesitating in your words and Tendou noticed it, evident from the narrowing of his wide eyes, but he did not comment on it outwardly.
Instead, he replied with, “But it’s obviously not as impressive as my method!”
You laughed lightly and complimented, “Seems like no one can compete with the attention of the guess monster.”
At this point, the teacher entered the room and continued with class. Your thoughts often surrounded the elusive man and you wondered if Kawanishi really did act differently around you than the others, but you were running out of options to ask from. If Tendou’s description was accurate, then there was no way that Wakatoshi could give you more valuable information. Shirabu was Kawanishi’s roommate and closest companion, he must know more than the rest. But surely, he would convey to the middle-blocker your interest and you could not handle Taichi finding out.
You went to the second best.
“How’s my favorite kouhai?” You attempted to coerce the popular second-year into conversation, but she gave you the face that knew what you were up to. It was a widely known fact that she was Shirabu’s best friend, member of a second-year study group that included him, and gossip queen – she had to know something.
“If you need something just say it, (L/N)-san. Better make it quick, I have class soon and I can’t be rude to the only senpai that I like.” You caught her in the hallway, typing away on her phone.
You sighed, “What can you say about Kawanishi?”
“Taichi?” She put her phone back in her bag to look down at nothing in particular, whilst frowning. “He’s a lazy piece of shit who knows better than to act like how he is now. You’re tutoring him, so you’ve probably seen it.”
“Yeah…”
“He’s pretty quiet, but not at all shy. Taichi has a personality that’s rough around the edges and it seems like he has a permanent bitch face on. But he opens up to those he can trust.”
“Oh.”
At that reaction, your kouhai quickly stepped in front of you and stopped walking, blocking your immediate pace. “What do you mean, ‘Oh?’ Do you like him?”
“No, it’s just he’s been acting a certain way around me. I was wondering how much of him I really knew.”
“Like how?”
“Like teasing me, calling me ‘babe’ of all things.” Her eyes widened at the newfound gossip and you could almost feel the internal screaming she was projecting. You were unsure if you should walk-away at the stunned girl or shout to grab her attention.
“How cute.” She simply stated, composing herself in a single second and then was on her way.
That conversation did not help your nerves at all and your next class was shared with the aggravation of your thoughts! You approached life like a simple equation. There were variables here and there, but eventually all would be solved and revealed. Math was your shit and yet Kawanishi defied every prior algorithm of judgement you had unofficially convened in your mind.
Since you were relatively early to class, you took the empty seat next to Kawanishi – which was the very last seat in the back! He strolled in with headphones buried in his ears, showing not a single care. His dark eyes narrowed at your presence, but this time he actually acknowledged you with a casual wave.
“Are we still on for tonight?” He did not dignify you with a response, just a sly lift of his eyebrow that you knew suggested something! But you simply rolled your eyes, happy to see your usual Kawanishi and continued, “For studying. Don’t get anything in that head of yours.”
Woah, take a step back.
Your Kawanishi? Since when did you think of Kawanishi as yours? That thought slipped your mind quickly and almost naturally. That fact alone scared you. The two of you had spent numerous nights studying alone and it was clear that he thought of you as a friend, as per his insistence of using his first name. It seems his determination and utter repetition were finally getting to you. And you were surprisingly okay with that.
This was your hardest class and there were exams every week. The professor handed the last test back and you almost cried at seeing your eighty-nine out of one-hundred! Thank the lord! Amongst the few that took the torture known as abstract algebra, the topic for the last exam was agreeably the hardest and you would not be surprised if you were the curve.
Once the professor returned to his desk, he announced, “Sorry class, there is no curve on the exam grade this week.”
What the fuck?! You had never dropped below a ninety math and it was rare for anyone to be ahead of you. There were a few times that the curve was slightly above you by a point or two, but never a full letter grade.
You looked over to Kawanishi and saw the perfect score that he was failing to hide. His expression was a grim line and you reached over to take the paper off his desk. He did not fight you and allowed you to compare answers.
His work was perfect, his penmanship was sloppy, but the answers were completely legible and circled at the bottom. You even remembered him leaving the classroom earlier than you during the exam. At the time, you figured he was going to take a nap – which he did – and not be bothered by the importance of the exam. But boi, you were wrong.
You felt like an ass.
“Looks like you’ll be tutoring me from now, Taichi-san.” You teased. Kawanishi froze at your sudden playful-tone, one he had perceived before, but never seen used against him. He urged you several times before to use his first name and, of all times, you decided now in the middle of class.
Taichi had observed you through junior high and now. You were smart and made it widely known that you and you alone were the leader. You would inwardly groan at teacher’s directions, but do it anyway because that was simply how you were. He grew in the contrary direction and wanted to know why you were so damn happy leading a bunch of idiots.
The student body was easily swayed and not worth his time to keep a reputation. It was easier to keep an impassive disposition than appeal to those he simply did not care about. And yet, you were just as smart as him and you wanted the favor of those beneath you. Kawanishi wanted to know why you subjected yourself to this arduous task through the years. What could be so good about volunteering time into people who widely did not deserve it?
Kawanishi was willing to let all six-years go to waste. Spend his time merely watching you and never actually saying anything. He could easily grab your attention, but what was the point? Your heart belonged to the student body and you would never dedicate time to just him, another student in a sea of others.
Until his matchmaker of a math teacher forced you to.
Kawanishi silently thanked whatever deity was watching over him. He wanted to push your buttons, see how far he could go before the kitten would show her claws. You were put alongside the rare amount of people he could truly express himself with. And damn, you were pretty entertaining. He loved seeing the determined glint in your eyes after he paid even the slightest bit of attention to your tutoring. Or the way you rolled your eyes in amusement after he gave a rather presumptuous statement.
You were a mature intelligent young-woman, a year his senior, with an honest-heart and an ass to boot.
When you were riled enough, you fought his teasing with your own harsh words. Taichi could literally watch your usually composed demeanor collapse at his words. Your usually kind vernacular would get replaced with punitive and ruthless sayings towards him and it strangely invigorated him to see more. You would heave a sigh and force deep breathes to calm yourself and he loved seeing the dramatic rise and fall of your chest.
Taichi long-accepted his interest in you and was not at all shy at expressing this. But you were just??? So dense??
But now that you were finally teasing back… Kawanishi fought down the strange heat rising to his cheeks and attempted his most casual tone of voice, “You can drop the formal suffix, (F/N).” Damn, that was too low! I sounded like a male pornstar.
You laughed, he was could not pinpoint the exact reason since you were smiling so radiantly at him, “Alright, Taichi-kun.”
He sighed at your teasing and refused to respond to your mischievous statement.
Oh boy had the tables turned.
Neither of you could pay full attention in class since any movement from the other person would catch your immediate notice. The two of you did not have to voice it out loud, but it was obvious that you were both on edge, eager to say something but never actually saying it.
The professor decided on letting the class out early and you grabbed his hand, “Hey. Want to have dinner first before we study?”
Kawanishi mulled over your request, frown slowly tilting to a smile when the classroom emptied. “Can’t get enough time with me?”
“Yeah, whatever.” You joked, grabbing your stuff and walking alongside the male. He was keeping an unusually large distance, but at this point you could almost understand the puzzle that was Taichi.
You were a contender for a spot in the top ranked students in the Academy and it was for obvious reasons. And after observing Taichi throughout the week, his personality seemed clearly defined to you. He was not shy or held-back, but honest. Quiet, since he found no reason to speak to those beneath him. Taichi did not radiate the same intelligence as others, but you could still sense his pride and hidden tenacity.
However, you could not explain why his frank behavior was pointed towards you. You were never a member of the volleyball team and yet he treated you like one of his close friends. Kawanishi was a year your junior and you were the president, so maybe he found the need to place formal respect? But he never exhibited the same regard for other seniors or delegates to student government. You glanced back to the hazel-haired male. He was walking at a leisurely pace, his permanent little scowl displayed to the rest of the world.
You swiped into the cafeteria, grabbed some food, and sat in a booth across Taichi. Conversation was mostly comprised of you talking with his occasional comment. This was definitely new behavior, but maybe not at all. This must be his normal disposition and you were entirely okay with that.
It made you feel special, that he talked differently to you in private.
But the small privacy of the booth did not last long. “Hey, (F/N)-san!” You spotted Semi’s girlfriend, arm-in-arm with her setter. “I just had a quick question about prom.”
You were whisked away with multiple questions of what not to wear and the theme. She ended up taking a seat next to you. You were not at all troubled, it was only part of your duties as student government and you were delighted to share details about the most massive event of the year. Semi scooted into the booth next to Kawanishi. Both boys watched the conversation in silence, giving only a polite greeting to one another.
After giving many thanks, the couple took off with a wave. You and Taichi continued in your dinner and you off-handedly asked, “How do you feel about losing so many senpai’s?”
He frowned and sat-back, “They’re moving onto better things. I trust Shirabu.” You nodded at his explanation and the rest of dinner went by casually. His words were concise and you found his current curt vernacular very similar to Wakatoshi.
The moment the two of you were completely alone, in the comfort of his shared dormed room, Kawanishi did not hesitate to slam the door behind him and flash you a flirtatious smile. “What’s up with you lately, babe?” He walked over to his bed, throwing his backpack on the top. You realized it was not as heavy as yours and spotted his textbooks scattered haphazardly on the floor. You did not comment on it, not this time.
“Why?” You had a raised brow, but wide smile on your face.
“Why do you keep smiling at me, (F/N)?” He questioned, sitting on the edge and leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees.
“Why do you treat me like this, Taichi-kun?” You asked, “I’m not complaining, but I seem to be on a special list in your mind. I just want to know what I did to earn it.”
His gaze shun with understanding and amusement, traveling for you to a spot on the floor, “Maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are.”
Back to the teasing! “Well, you’re definitely smarter than I first thought. So I am sorry I misjudged you for a lazy idiot. You’re just lazy genius, it seems.”
His bit his bottom lip and kept a firm gaze back on you. It was rare to see such an intense stare coming from the boy and you fidgeted in your spot, standing in the middle of the room. “A compliment just to knock me down?” There was no hint of a smile despite his amusing tone, and he continued, “Should I punish you?”
Your smile was wiped clean off your face and you looked at him with wide eyes. There were no words you could respond with to make sense of the conversation, so you simply stated, “Do you think you could handle me?”
Oh my god, why do this sound like the beginning of a porn?! You shrieked in your mind, confidence outwardly radiating but on the inside you were literally screaming.
He gave a light chuckle, smirking away at how easy you were to read. Taichi stood up, leisurely walking in your direction and not showing signs of stopping, “It’s easy to get a kitten purring.” And he continued strolling right past you to his desk. “But first I have to tutor you. Now be a good student and sit-down.”
At this point, you were inwardly heaving at the obvious tension and the fact that his smirk looked so hot. You were always the one who brought the study session back to its true purpose when the two of you deviated. And yet here Kawanishi was, getting you all riled-up just to walk-away from his obviously effective work.
This is bullshit!
You were a whole year older than him and the most powerful student at Shiratorizawa – there was no way this tall-ass sloth was going to one-up you! Taichi, you learned overtime, loved to be in control of a situation. He observed other people from afar and would act according to what he wanted as the outcome. And you refused to be another marionette in his game.
You grabbed his shoulder, whipping him around to sit back down on the bed. Taichi leaned back, eyes wide with surprise. You propped your knees onto the edge, initiating a very intimate very dominate position, and pushed the subject, “I think it’s time you learned your place. You can endlessly tease me when I’m trying to help, but I can’t? You better answer my question here and now.”
“It’s because I have feelings for you.” His eye-contact did not waiver, so Tachi easily perceived your astonished-look despite how well you thought you were hiding it.
You opened your mouth, words not coming out, and slowly leaned closer to the man. At this point, any outsider could observe your pose as straddling his waist. But! This was simply not his way. With you still in a daze, Taichi had no problems switching the positions with him now looming over you.
He grabbed a hand in each of his, placing them above your head in his grasp. “Sorry sweetheart.” Taichi murmured above you, noses gently bumping each other. You leaned upward and closed the distance, lips molding against each other. He tasted of mangos, a fruit you would not have expected of the quiet boy.
You felt the sweep of his lips against yours and opened at the invitation. Taichi previously had a knee on the bed, but now he was fully inclined on top of you, hips to hips and to nose to nose. He moved his left-hand from your shoulder to grasp the back of your head tenderly. He was invading all your senses and it seemed his only goal was to deepen your already intimate contact. Your left hand found itself on his shoulder, gripping tightly as the other hand threaded between his auburn-hair.
You moaned at a particular sensation and Kawanishi leaned back to get a full-look at your flushed face, “Well? I like you too. Keep kissing me, you idiot.” You spurned him on, earning a smile as he pushed you further up his bed to a more comfortable position.
He continued in his dominant pose, not hesitating to place himself over you. The heavy-air was incredibly evident and you knew your eyes were hazed over with lust. You traveled a curious hand from his hip to the bare-skin of his stomach and you swear he basically growled. He was sporting that intense gaze again and you only wondered how you were not aware of his feelings before. Taking away by your thoughts, Taichi returned your favor by placing a warm-hand on your waist and roaming upwards underneath the comfort of your shirt. But he was not stopping.
His hand stopped at the crest of your breast when –
“Oh my god!”
“Leave a sock on the door or something, holy shit.”
You broke apart to see Shirabu and his not-girlfriend in the doorway. She had her hands covering her face, but not her eyes. His poor roommate looked entirely done and not at all surprised. The two of you quickly sat-up, but Kawanishi secured a firm hold on your waist. Shirabu and his study partner did not leave the room, but in fact walked-in further.
Your kouhai was quick to compose herself and started, “Wow, (F/N). You work fast! And you said you didn’t like him, no wonder you were gushing all—”
“Are you leaving?!” You interrupted.
“This is my room.” Shirabu stated, sighing. “But we’re just stopping here to grab books and then to the library to study.” Kawanishi was dead-silent, lips a straight-line, but the hand on you was drawing lazy circles on your skin.
“Don’t hesitate to text me if you need anything, (L/N)-san! Some snacks? A condom?” Shirabu flicked the girl on the forehead before grabbing her and almost dragging her from the room. "You were gushing over me?" Taichi asked, stating the question dangerously close to your ear. "I'm going to kill her." He laughed and extended another hand, both of his arms resting across your waist as nibbled lightly on the shell of your ear. "Now, don't be mean because she was honest." Kawanishi whispered, a tingle traveling up and down your spine and causing you to arch forward into his touch.
“That was hella embarrassing.”
He pulled back, “It’s embarrassing to be with me?”
“No!” You were quick to answer and grab his arm, pulling him back, “Not at all. I just don’t want an audience when I’m being intimate with the guy I like... What if they walked in a little later?”
He raised a brow at your question, smirk splayed on his face yet again and returning to his close-position by your ear, "What do you think we’d be doing?”
“I don’t know!” You covered your face with your hands, corrupt thoughts popping up and you were almost sure Kawanishi could see your thought bubble. He laughed and placed the hands away, returning back to lean his forehead against your's.
“You’re cute.” And he enveloped you back into another kiss.
You were not the sort of couple that would hold-hands in the hallway and Taichi would rarely ever kiss you out in public. But you would not have it any other way. His affectionate side was for you alone and he made sure to affirm his affections the moment you were behind closed doors. You noticed the little things, lingering looks or a smile thrown your way. In the comfort of your privacy, Taichi would not hesitate to have roam his hands on your skin.
Taichi Kawanishi was one-of-a-kind and you thanked whoever was out there for blessing you with such a charming boy. He was still an ass, no doubt, but he was your ass.
You loved him fully and he would not hesitate to do the same.
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hawkbucks · 4 years
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Y’all like SteveTony? Good! So do I! Here are some of my absolute favorite fics ever written for the pairing. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do, and don’t forget to kudos and/or comment :D 
(There are so many soulmate fics here. So many.) 
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All-Time Low by Sineala Rating: E Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 12060 Summary: Tony's lost his company to Obadiah Stane. He's lost it all: his money, his friends, his Avengers team... and his sobriety. Drunk, homeless, Tony is living on the streets, and when he runs out of liquor money, he sells the only thing he has left: his body. And one day, he has the exact wrong customer.
All That You Love, All That You Hate by laireshi  Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 25106 Summary: Director Stark is happily married to Steve Rogers. They have no secrets from each other, and quite a lot from the world—mainly that Steve Rogers is really The Captain, an infamous villain.
Unfortunately, the truly important secrets rarely stay hidden, and when Steve's identity gets revealed, Tony will do anything to keep them both safe.
He's a hero, but it might mean crossing a line that a villain would never even approach.
Amor Fati by citsiurtlanu Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 15712 Summary: Tony Stark has always known what the words on his wrist are supposed to lead to. What he's never known is who the words are for. 
Bereavement by nightwalker Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 3786 Summary: She sets her clipboard down on her lap and folds her hands over it. “I am very sorry for your loss, Agent Rogers.”   
colours by laireshi Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 1330 Summary: Steve draws in charcoal, sometimes thinking of how it would be to see colours. Everyone’s heard the legends, myths, stories; every person who’s found their soulmate has exclaimed in wonder, looking around. But it’s not something that could be described.
He doesn't see it for himself, not until he meets Iron Man. 
Convention Exclusive by Sineala Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 5545 Summary: "I'm interested in commissioning a sketch," Iron Man said. He leaned forward, edging into Steve's personal space, splaying his gauntleted hands on the table. "I'd like you to draw me wearing only a tiny thong, with Captain America staring at my nearly-naked body in horror."
(Or: Steve Rogers, former artist for the Captain America comics, is signing autographs at a comics convention when he meets his biggest fan. Not an AU.)
Dispel by faite, laireshi  Rating: T Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 3918 Summary: Steve is hit with a love spell, but he doesn't want it undone: he loves Tony and he's never been happier.  
Follow in Your Footsteps by Sineala  Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 6788 Summary: When Tony is twelve, his soulmate's name appears on his wrist. Unfortunately, it's hard to find out anything at all about Steve Rogers.It turns out there's a reason for that. 
for none of them would save him by laireshi  Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 3288 Summary: “I'm dead, in your timeline,” Tony said, not a question.
Steve shrugged, quiet and broken. “Everyone is.”
Hard Reset by Kiyaar Rating: T  Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 8798 Summary: “You used me,” Steve says, like he expected better.
“What are you going to do about it?” is all Tony ends up saying, pathetic and petulant and tired, though Steve has only ever recognized it as arrogance.
“Now?” Steve says, as if there will be a later. “Now, I’m going to beat you bloody.”
Hide Your Love Away by Sineala Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 33514 Summary: Tony has suspected for a long time that the soulmark on his chest matches Steve's -- but he's never told Steve about it. And then it's too late to tell Steve anything at all ever again. In the wake of Steve's death, the Skrull invasion, and Norman Osborn's rise to power, the identity of his soulmate is just one of the many things Tony cuts out of his memory forever.
When Tony returns to consciousness, he's forced to deal with the aftermath of a war he no longer remembers fighting, not to mention a Steve Rogers who can barely stand to be in the same room with him. Surely the last thing Tony could ever need in his life is more amnesia. But that's what he gets. And Tony's new missing memory just might be the key to finding out the truth of his soulmark... as well as his chance to make things right once and for all.
Nothing Pure Enough by Sineala Rating: M Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 2623 Summary: You shouldn't be able to develop a Hanahaki fixation on someone you've never met who's been dead for decades. But Tony has always been special.  
now that we have seen each other by Mizzy Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Word Count: 5235 Summary: Steve's crush on Iron Man seemed to him to be much more reasonable than his crush on Tony Stark. A meeting with some identical Avengers from another reality raises some important identity questions, though, and with their shattering revelations in tow, will Steve's heart survive this experience?
Secrets of a Successful Marriage by valtyr  Rating: M Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 24118 Summary: Tony Stark lives a double life; he's secretly the supervillain known as Iron Man. But his loving husband Steve has a few secrets of his own, as Tony is about to discover.  
Slipping off the Page into Your Hands by Sineala  Rating: M  Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Word Count: 68149 Summary: Soulmates have their first words to each other written on their wrists. This should make it easy. For Steve and Tony, it is anything but. Steve's problem is that the future he has awoken into is nothing he was ever expecting: he has a soulmate now. Who might be a robot. And if his soulmate is Iron Man, how can he be so attracted to Tony Stark? It should be impossible. Tony's problem is that he is Iron Man, his soulmate is a man whom he in no way deserves, and he is going to fight everything in his heart and do his best to make sure Steve never, ever finds out the whole truth.
The Truth of It Is by nightwalker Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 635 Summary: You can't lie to your soulmate, everyone knows that. Tony's always thought it was just hype until he tries to sass Steve and the words freeze in his throat.
Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) by Sineala Rating: T  Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 35216  Summary: No one knows Tony is Iron Man. Then Tony gets amnesia, and literally no one knows Tony is Iron Man.
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Fake It by laireshi Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 1159 Summary: “Is it true you and Captain America are dating?” the journalist asked.
Tony gave her his most charming smile. “Captain America likes to keep his life private,” he said. “But he knew who I was when he kissed me.” Another fake, wide smile. “We’re very happy.”
Veridicality by Sineala  Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 2480 Summary: When Steve is accidentally exposed to a truth serum, Tony learns that Steve has been keeping a lot of feelings hidden.
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A Certain Affinity by miobambiino Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 14956 Summary: "They were like that a lot nowadays, ever since they got back from their little kidnapping escapade. Sure, they’d been close before then - they all had - but now… it was different. They were close, close. Squishing up next to each other, whispering to one another, playing with each others hair, apparently.
Steve inwardly grimaced at himself. He was being bitter and petty, he knew that. But he couldn’t figure out why, though. His teammates were getting along, which is only a good thing. Especially considering how they started things off way back on the helicarrier. But since when were Tony and Nat this cosy?"
Aka Steve is jealous of Tony and Nat's friendship, gets the wrong idea, and requires a little help from Nat herself to get some well-needed perspective.
And Then There’s You by someonelsesheart  Rating: T Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 5933 Summary: And it’s funny that they’re like this, isn't it, because there's Tony, too-clever and too-fast, always having to be moving, selfish and desperate and cruel, and then there’s Steve with his kindness, his slow smile and his patience, selfless and calm and kind to everything and everyone. They’re fire and ice, good and bad, and somehow, somehow, it works.
Or, Steve Rogers teaches Tony Stark how to love, one year at a time.
Be No Stranger (All Your Saints and Soldiers Remix) by jibrailis Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 5973 Summary: That's the twenty-first century love song, baby. Glitz and glamour and every one of us is a liar.   
finding my way back to you by theappleppielifestyle Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 7266 Summary: Ten minutes after a botched attempt at proposing to Tony, Steve is thrown back in time.
Lost Together by FestiveFerret Rating: E Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 67977 Summary: Being trapped in a horrible world where some things are like home, and some things are terrifyingly not, is bad enough. But when it becomes clear that the people here come in pairs - and unpaired people are a threat - Steve and Tony are forced to pretend that they're a pair too, if they ever want to make it home alive.  
The Spaces (Silences) Between by missbecky Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 4159 Summary: A sudden accident leaves Tony unable to speak.
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Thumb, Index, and Pinky Extended by Eudoxia  Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count: 4848 Summary: Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.
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A Thousand Kisses Deep by laireshi  Crossover Between: Earth-616 & Earth-1610 Rating: M Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Word Count: 3547 Summary: Steve doesn't seem too happy when Steve Rogers of Marvel Ultimate gets transported into their universe. He seems even less happy when Tony and the new Steve get closer to each other.
Imperfect Mirrors by Sineala Crossover Between: Earth-616 & Earth-199999 Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 9181 Summary: Two months since Ultron. Two hours since the mindwipe. Things haven't been going well for Tony Stark lately, in two different universes. But they just might be able to help each other out.
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Did I forget a link? Did I link to the wrong story? Any other mistakes? Message me and I’ll fix it ASAP! 
Please read all tags for the stories I have linked! 
Happy reading! 
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chikaraspecial · 4 years
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ARTICLE: Tracing the Mythology of The CHIKARA Special
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The story of a submission hold that would become quintessential to, and synonymous with, CHIKARA starts with the men who served as head trainers at the Wrestle Factory in 2003: Mike Quackenbush, and Chris Hero. They formed a tag team known as the "Super Friends," drawing inspiration from the iconography of both the Flash and Superman.
The Super Friends were successful for a year and a half, until April 2005. At that year’s Tag World Grand Prix, the Super Friends advanced it to the finals, where they would face the team of Arik Cannon and Claudio Castagnoli. In said match, Hero would betray Quackenbush, joining with Cannon and Castagnoli, thus forming the first iteration of the "Kings of Wrestling."
For two years, Quackenbush would feud with the Kings of Wrestling, until a climax was reached at Aniversario? on May 26, 2007. After taking a winding route, at last, Hero vs. Quackenbush was set to take place. Quackenbush, not yet known as “The Master of A Thousand Holds” in those days, had a worthy adversary in Hero, who knew all of Quackenbush’s favorite holds. The two fought a match of ‘who will slip up first’ until Quackenbush debuted a new submission hold, in the match’s final moment. Neither Chris Hero nor anyone else, had ever seen the hold before and left with no counter, Hero had no option but to tap out.
From then on, Quackenbush dubbed the hold The CHIKARA Special, and proceeded to teach it to everyone he could, in order to thwart Hero.
For the remainder of the season, The CHIKARA Special proved to be Hero’s kryptonite. Any of his opponents that could lock it on would force Hero to submit. But when Hero lost to the bumbling luchador, Equinox, it was the final straw for Hero. The two were set to battle at the 2007 event "The Sordid Perils of Everyday Existence," but Hero would turn the match into a Lucha de Apuesta. The wager? If Hero lost, his head would be shaved. If Equinox lost, he would be forced to unmask.
As the match came to a close, it seemed Equinox would once again claim victory via the CHIKARA Special. However, in a moment that stunned everyone, especially Mike Quackenbush watching from Commentation Station, Hero countered The CHIKARA Special. Quackenbush demanded to know how Hero knew the reversal while Hero gave Quackenbush a cheeky wave and picked up the win.
Having lost, Equinox was unmasked and revealed to be Wrestle Factory drop out, Vin Gerard. Gerard had bought a colorful mask, learned some Spanish, and convinced trainer Jorge Rivera, a.k.a. “Skayde”, into vouching for him.. The tecnicos shunned Gerard for his deception, causing him to become a bitter rudo for the remainder of his wrestling career.
Hero would go on to lose to his one-time partner, Claudio Castagnoli and was subsequently vanquished. However, Quackenbush was still perturbed. Someone in the tecnico locker room had betrayed him, in leaking the counter to the CHIKARA Special to the rudos. The devious UltraMantis Black implied on an episode of Podcast-A-Go-Go that he knew how Hero had learned the secret, but swore he would never tell a soul.
April 2008. At "Deuces Wild," a rookie Tim Donst was dropped on his head by UltraMantis Black’s lethal move, the "Praying Mantis Bomb," and then helped to the back by Mantis and his "Order of the Neo Solar Temple" cult. It was revealed that after the head injury, Donst suffered retrograde amnesia. As a result, it was put into his head that he had ALWAYS been a loyal member of the Neo Solar Temple. Won over by vegan treats and lies, Donst began wearing face paint and became Mantis’ "chosen one," setting him up to enter the Young Lions Cup tournament that very summer.
That same summer, Quackenbush formed a tag team with Factory graduate Shane Storm, a duo sometimes referred to as "Lightning Storm." They quickly accumulated 3 points to challenge for Los Campeonatos de Parejas. But following their 3rd win at the Young Lions Cup VI event, Donst appeared at ringside, and whispered something in Quackenbush’s ear. This caused Quackenbush to react furiously and attack his partner Storm, ending in Storm fleeing the venue.
The next night, Quackenbush explained his actions, stating that he’d been looking for the mole in the tecnico locker room that had leaked the secret of The CHIKARA Special to Hero and the rudos. When Mantis claimed knowledge of the mole, Quackenbush saw an opportunity when Donst was spirited away by Manis’ Neo Solar Temple. When Mantis THOUGHT Donst had lost his memory, Donst and Quackenbush hatched a plan to earn Mantis’ trust. After weeks of earning the Order’s trust, Mantis confessed to Donst who quickly put the info into Quackenbush’s ear. The traitor amongst the tecnicos was none other than: Shane Storm.
In 2007, Storm had gone on a losing streak he seemingly couldn’t break. The slump was so bad, it caused his friend and partner Jigsaw to end their tag team and depart CHIKARA. Following Jigsaw’s departure, Storm went to Mantis for help on how to beat Mantis’ minion, Hydra. Mantis agreed to trade him a win over Hydra, but at a price. That price being: the secret of countering The CHIKARA Special. Desperate for a win, Storm agreed, and beat Hydra after Mantis bewitched him mid-match. Now, also shunned by the tecnicos, Storm gravitated to Vin Gerard, who pushed and prodded Storm and, in a parody of Jigsaw’s unmasking, became the unrelenting rudo, STIGMA.
Even with the counter to the CHIKARA Special made public, the hold remained quite potent, and in 2009, a new twist on the hold was introduced. New Colony member Carpenter Ant debuted the The Inverted CHIKARA Special to win the card-ending circuit match at "Cibernetico Increible." When Quackenbush asked how he knew the move, Carpenter Ant responded with a cryptic “you’d be surprised at what I know”.
It later came out that Quackenbush had invented the Inverted CHIKARA Special specifically for use by one person: Tim Donst. He had given Donst the move, to give Donst an edge going into the Young Lions Cup VI tournament. Quackenbush demanded to know how Carpenter Ant learned the move, to which Donst sarcastically replied, “he’s from the future!” The arrival of a Carpenter Ant, and a robotic-looking wrestler called Vokoder, had in fact been foretold in the pages of CHIKARA's comic book. This did not ring true to Quackenbush's ears. The truth wouldn’t actually come to light until the advent of the Brüderschaft Des Kreuzes, or BDK.
Donst had joined the BDK to further his own ambitions, and taught the Inverted CHIKARA Special to the rest of the group. This included Carpenter Ant, who unmasked himself, to reveal it was the equally disenchanted Pinkie Sanchez. Due to the positioning of the head, wrist, and leg in the inverted variation, the counter that can be used to escape the standard CHIKARA Special is an impossibility. This submission became the group’s signature hold, and gave the BDK dominant momentum for the rest of the year...until the "Dark Cibernetico."
As Team CHIKARA fought Team BDK, Donst looked to apply the Inverted CHIKARA Special on its’ creator, Mike Quackenbush. Quackenbush, however, had decided this time to keep the counter to the inverted variation to himself. This allowed him to turn the tables on an unsuspecting Donst. Having no means of escape, Donst was eliminated via the hold from the Cibernetico. Following the loss, the Inverted CHIKARA Special has been seen far less frequently, while the CHIKARA Special itself has become symbolic of CHIKARA itself, and the wrestlers that wave its flag.
Shortly thereafter, a resilient rookie known as Green Ant would reveal yet another new variation, The CHIKARA Special: Green. This variation traps both legs, and makes use of a Figure 7 shape, first being debuted at the CHIKARA pay-per-view event "High Noon."
The CHIKARA Special would appear again on June 2, 2013, an infamous date in CHIKARA's long lore. Icarus finally got his shot against reigning Grand Champion Eddie Kingston at "Aniversario: Never Compromise." But with the hold locked in and the match won, as referee Bryce Remsburg went to check on Kingston, members of the privatized security force, Condor Security, stormed the ring at the command of Director of Fun Wink Vavasseur. This initiated a year long shutdown of the company, and sparked Icarus’ voyage for redemption. He and Kingston would meet again at "You Only Live Twice," the first CHIKARA event upon returning to battle not just Condor Security and their overlords, the Titor Conglomerate, but a giant cabal of villains known as The Flood. Icarus once again locked on The CHIKARA Special in the title bout, and finally captured the Grand Championship that had eluded him since the 12 Large: Summit tournament.
The submission would once again save the new champion, when unstoppable force Deucalion scorched a path of destruction through CHIKARA. At Season 14’s finale card, "Tomorrow Never Dies, Deucalion entered the steel cage carrying the masks of luchadores he had dispatched with his brutally effective Chokeslam variant. Icarus went to the cage with his Grand Championship, and carrying the Estonian ThunderFrog’s hammer. Icarus would reverse Deucalion’s lethal move directly into The CHIKARA Special to earn a submission, before putting Deucalion out for good with ThunderFrog’s hammer.
Nearly one year to the day later, Princess KimberLee and her team "Crown & Court" would win the season-long "Challenge of the Immortals" tournament. Each team member was handed a Golden Opportunity at "Top Banana." The Princess would quickly cash in her opportunity on then-Grand Champion, Hallowicked. In a whirlwind sequence, the Princess locked on The CHIKARA Special. She walked out as the first female Grand Champion, and the first female to hold the top championship in a male-dominated organization.
The hold would not make an appearance again until King of Trios 2018. All year, Green Ant and Thief Ant fought to earn the respect of Fire Ant, as well as fellow members of The Colony like Worker Ant and Soldier Ant. As the trios tournament progressed, Green Ant would lock in The CHIKARA Special on Travis Huckabee in a modern retelling of CHIKARA’s historic feud, The Colony vs F.I.S.T. The two stables had been inextricably warring through various line-up changes and more than one decade. Green Ant would once again lock the hold on to win the finals of King of Trios, leading to a celebrated victory for the ants, and earning the stamp of approval from Fire Ant to finally be called official members of The Colony.
Even more recently, the CHIKARA Special appeared at King of Trios 2019, but surprisingly, in the Rey de Voladores mini-tournament. Although it tends to spotlight high-flying wrestling, the Rey de Voladores, as well as Alex Zayne, are not immune to The CHIKARA Special. After being consistently treated as inferior by the Herald of The Crucible, Ophidian, up-and-comer The Whisper looked to distinguish himself with an accolade that Ophidian could not claim. The Whisper met Alex Zayne in the finals of the tournament, and after a hard-fought match, locked on The CHIKARA Special. This win made The Whisper the only 2-time Rey de Voladores ("king of flyers,") proving that in one clear way, The Whisper was actually superior to Ophidian. And while The CHIKARA Special, a symbol of CHIKARA, was an overt statement to The Crucible's Herald, The Whisper continues to follow Ophidian's orders.
To celebrate the positive power of pro-wrestling, CHIKARA originated National Pro Wrestling Day years ago. But it was National Pro Wrestling Day 2020 that saw the most recent appearance by this legendary submission hold. For the final bout of his 25th Anniversary Tour, the innovator of the CHIKARA Special, Mike Quackenbush, deployed the time-honored submission hold against one of his very first proteges, Hallowicked. Not unlike it's maiden voyage in our mythology, the CHIKARA Special has proven to be a kryptonite for Hallowicked as well, giving the tecnicos of all experience levels a vaunted weapon against the most dangerous of rudos.
Contributed by Neil May
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roger1na · 5 years
Text
careful ch5 - john deacon x reader
summary: you are a ballet student at the royal ballet academy. To pay for your tuition, you work part-time at the celebrity gossip magazine, Seven. One fateful day you’re sent to interview a band on the rise, Queen, post-concert and befriend the sweetest man on the planet.
word count: 2.3k+
warnings: swearing
author's note: i'm so happy w all the positive comments i get you guys have all my uwus <3. i've realised FAR too late that brian's supposed to have hepatitis right now so ig in this universe it didn't happen, let's save our boy from some sickness. i think if i can keep to plan, careful should be twelve whole chapters! i don't want to start any new series before it's complete, i'm prone to abandoning projects if i don't really stick with them.
[ch1] [ch2] [ch3] [ch4] [ch5] [ch6] [ch7] [ch8]
chapter five
There was a certain routine to being in love. The butterflies you got every time you wrote about him in your diary. The softness of your heart when you heard Queen play on the radio and perked up your ears to hear the often forgotten bassline.
You soon learned that ‘till next time was code for next week, when John brought you lunch again, letting you hold his hand and tease him about his thick curls and shy smile. The late July sunlight played with the shadows on his face beautifully. Sometimes you felt as if you could just stare at his face forever, get lost in his features. Rose comforted you, saying it was part of falling in love. It terrified you, as a thought. But you hadn’t even properly kissed yet. The thought was ridiculous.
“What’re you thinking about, love?” You let the term of endearment roll of your tongue nervously, relying on British culture to keep your true meaning hidden. You had been walking for quite some time in silence after enjoying lunch in Kensington.
He hesitated slightly before replying. “The new album is so Freddie, Brian and Roger. I feel like the bass is lost.”
“You wish there’d be more bass?”
“Well, I don’t mind not being in the spotlight all the time…” he trailed off.
“But?” You encouraged him.
“I miss songs like Liar. Where I had a solo and all that.”
“You should write your own song, then.”
He looked at you, eyebrows raised, incredulous expression plastered across his face. You laughed and shrugged. “I know none of the songs on Queen and Queen II are yours. Why don’t you give this one a little Deaky twist?”
“Yeah but I can’t sing.”
“Bullshit, you have a great voice.” You stopped walking and turned to him. “I at least like it.”
A small redness spread across his cheeks and he avoided your gaze. “Well, uh,” he stumbled over his words.
“And also, if you want something a little less serious, why not play a bit of a practical joke on them? Something silly and stupid, Freddie would go bonkers for that.” You trailed off before smiling softly. “And, uh, Liar is my favourite song. Especially the bass.”
“You flatter me.”
“I’m serious.”
“I am too! They’re going to have a laugh.”
“Well then, make it into a funny song. Then they’ll laugh for the humour and you won’t feel bad if they insult your poetry or whatever.”
“You really think I should do this?”
“Absolutely.” You took hold of both of his hands and grinned.
You were caught in the moment just staring into his eyes. They were a wonderful shade of grey, occasionally looking dark and black in the shadows and sometimes twinkling like diamonds. You kept going back to the concert where you’d met him. The mischievous glint in his eye kept bringing you back to the silver glint of his bass strings.
A camera shutter snapped behind you, startling you. John’s expression changed from happy to apprehensive and his stance became wary.
“Was that a paparazzi?” The word sounded so silly. So fictional. He grimaced and nodded as some college student with a pimply face and shaky legs ran off with expensive equipment, and probably a picture of you and John where you looked madly in love. Or completely ridiculous. Your skirt suddenly felt too short, your shirt cropped too low and your hair messy.
John’s grip on your hand tightened. “Can we just go back?” You mumbled, embarrassment creeping in your voice.
John looked at you, worried. “Yeah, of course. You alright?”
You nodded, but you didn’t even convince yourself. He lead you back to the office through various shortcuts and darkened alleyways, hurriedly making sure nobody followed you. Once you arrived at the big glass doors to your office he apologised profusely.
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve been more careful.” His eyes were sad.
“Hey,” you grabbed his cheeks and squeezed them together slightly to make him form a smile. “Don’t worry about it,” you assured him, although your knees were shaking slightly.
“That’s not normal, I promise.”
“I believe you.” And you wanted to. But fear was creeping in your heart.
“‘Till next time?” He asked nervously.
“‘Till next time,” you promised him, squeezing his cheeks one more time before turning and rushing to the office.
A cloud hung over you as you walked over to your desk, heart beating rapidly, blood rushing in your ears. Williams was whispering something to an intern who looked like he was about to pee his pants at the sight of her, knees clicking together in fear.
You didn’t feel like challenging her anymore. She had a superiority complex. And she definitely hated competition in the workplace, although your intention was not to rise through the ranks. She saw women as something to weed out. You never understood what made her put herself against you, until you were warming up for an audition, and you realised that all the other dancers were looking for the same prize you were. But today, you gave it no thought.
For the first time ever, it properly hit you. John Deacon was famous. He went on tours and played for lovesick fans and probably had an army of teenage girls ready to tear him to shreds if the opportunity presented itself. Or maybe you were being delusional and he was just slightly more known than usual. He was a niche, he was a bass player. He wasn’t in the spotlight that often. Maybe.
You boiled coffee for yourself in thought, stirring in cream and sugar and taking a thoughtful sip. Would your mark on the world be a paparazzi photo with a guy you maybe-dated? While he had an incredible legacy? You’d be like one of those girls in a fan photoshoot which got terribly famous - only to remain anonymous. It was all so complicated.
The office had grown quiet when you returned from the canteen. Several people shot you pitying looks and Williams didn’t look so confident anymore.
“What’s going on?” You whispered to her, suddenly uncomfortably aware of yourself.
Nat left her front desk quickly, hiding something behind her back. “Y/N, sweetheart, don’t be mad…” she trailed off before handing you a copy of the Sun’s evening paper. “It just came in print.”
On the front page there were tons of different news. About celebrity scandals and weird locals. And then a small square image on the right corner of the page. John, with a dopey smile on his face, holding hands with a girl. It was you. Stupid grin and eyes for only John. And the title of the article made you sick.
Queen’s mr. Deacon hanging with the wrong crowd? Somebody should warn you…
Earlier today Queen’s John Deacon was spotted with a girl who works for the infamous gossip magazine Seven. What’s the girl fishing out of him? More on p.13
The article itself was maybe an eighth of a page, accompanied with two pictures. The one on the cover and one where you were entering the office building. But it was pictures of you. It was tarnishing you. You were going to be sick. What would he think if he saw this? You set down the paper and stormed to the bathroom before anybody saw your tears spill over your cheeks.
You stayed like that for a while, occasionally thinking you were brave enough to face people again. Then you caught sight of your red, swollen face and bleary eyes and retreated back into your stall. You mulled things over and over again. Was it always going to be like this?
You were at the office long after hours. Eyes stinging from crying and wiping them with sandpaper-like toilet paper.
Nobody tells you this, but crying from embarrassment and humiliation is the worst type of crying. With every tear that falls, you are reminded of how you messed up or how somebody decided that your actions were something to laugh at. With every sniffle you remembered that you had to go back and face the world, even though your knees were weak and your moral low.
While you were busy letting yourself get run down, the office had emptied. The lights were off and you could hear a lone janitor whistling as he cleaned. You sat down at your desk, pulling your knees to your chest, the chair creaking under your weight. Your sniffle echoed too loud.
You sat there for a while, feeling abandoned by the world. You let yourself be vulnerable and the press snagged onto it. You let yourself fall in love and now half of England thought you were scheming slag.
Your eyes drifted around your desk and landed on the locked drawer where you kept your diary. You fiddled with the lock a bit before it clicked open.
It was filled with memories from the wonder of late july. John this, John that. Ballet had trailed off the pages. You still danced. Every day but saturdays and sometimes even then. Your toes were bleeding often and your ankles hurt and you barely slept because your job started early and ballet ended late. But you had forgotten how much it used to eat up your happiness. It was the only thing that brought you joy. Now that John was part of the scene, you had a break every day. Like an entry to a whole nother universe for half an hour. Where he told you about photography and birds and basslines and you explained how all ballet dancers were evil because every understudy hoped for the failure of the prima ballerina. It was change and it was great. The fear in your heart was losing the fight.
If Rose could astral project, she would’ve appeared to you right then and there, screaming at you to call him.
You dialed his number and picked up the phone. It rang a few times before he answered, nervous on the other line.
“Hello this is John Deacon here,” he announced and then made a small tsk noise with his mouth.
You were so overcome with the relief of hearing his voice that you only managed a small sniffle.
“Y/N? Are you okay?”
You took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah.”
“You sound like you’re in tears.”
You laughed blearily. “Yes well, a bit. Don’t pick up the Sun today.”
“Ah, I see.”
“You read it?”
“Well, I know where you work. I’m still fine.”
You pressed your face into your hand. “God I feel like such an idiot.”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s not your fault, y’know? I should’ve realised. You’re John Deacon of Queen.”
John’s heart stilled. You didn’t sound bitter, just sad. Like you were done with everything. The lunch dates were a bad idea. The ballet lessons and the phone calls and the pampering. Bad ideas. He was about to open his mouth but you stopped him.
“I’m all in.”
“What?”
“Paparazzi and bad reputation and all stupid things included. All in.”
“What?” He was struggling to grasp what you were trying to get across to him.
“I feel like… I was one foot out of the door? I was nervous and hesitant to fall for somebody. And when I saw that article, it was maybe the worst moment of my life so far.”
“This isn’t very convincing.”
You started laughing on the other end. “Oh, you’re right, I need to clarify. I looked through my diary and so much has happened since I fainted at that concert. I’m all in. No hesitation anymore.”
“You keep a diary?” You could hear his teasing smirk through the phone.
“That’s what you got from me pouring my soul out to you?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t pick up on the subtext that I’m definitely kissing you the next time we see?”
“Oh?”
“I’m going to hang up now-”
“No wait! Tell me more.” He urged you, laughing on the other end.
“You sure? You don’t want to tease me anymore?”
“I’ll stop, I promise.”
“Okay,” you giggled. “So, Swan Lake by my class group has its opening night next week, Friday at 8pm. And I was hoping you’d join me. Or join the audience, I suppose.”
“I get to see you dance?” His voice was alive with joy and wonder, in an almost childlike way.
“Yes, yes! That’s what I mean. That’s part of all in. You get to see me dance.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Yes I agree, I am wonderful.” You laughed.
He scoffed on the other end. But his heart was palpitating. He was overcome with happiness. It’d been strange, courting a girl who was so carried by art, so immersed in dance that she could let herself go for weeks on end just to keep up with it. Seeing her work come to life was the biggest prize he could’ve gotten from making time for you, bringing you lunch, making sure you didn’t starve yourself for the work.
“What made you decide you’d want to kiss me?”
“It’s been too long, hasn’t it? There’s been too many almosts. To hell with almosts.”
“Have you drank something?”
“No!”
“You promise? I won’t wake up tomorrow and you’ll have forgotten all of this?”
“Of course not, I’m responsible.”
“Sure.”
You chatted for a while. He was such lovely company. So full of adoration and respect and wit. He had such a way with words. You felt deep longing in your heart. You also felt relieved, like five years worth of missing love was finally replaced with the warmth of another person.
“I think I’ve got to go now,” you whispered when the janitor entered your section of the office. “I’ll see you friday.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Bye, John.”
“Bye, Y/N.”
You set down the phone, adrenaline making your hands tremble ever so slightly. You wiped your face one last time before taking your things and leaving the office. There was a spring to your step which echoed in the empty evening London streets. You could hear the bellowing of drunks from the pubs and the crying of a baby from a nearby apartment. But it didn’t really mean anything to you anymore. You were flying on the wings of love.
God you felt ridiculous.
***
taglist: @fourmisfits @deakysgirl @im-happy-at-home @obsessedwithrogertaylor @itsametaphorbriansblog @rhapso-kei
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yoon-kooks · 6 years
Text
Witch Hazel- Pt.2
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff
Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.
Word Count: 3.6k
Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?
A/N: yikes i haven’t updated this in super long aaaaaaaaa also happy birthday to the nuttiest kid in all the land, jeon jungkook :-) 
“Hey have you read Witch Hazel yet?”
“Of course I have… Who hasn’t?”
“True, it really went viral after Snow made that tweet, huh.”
“I can’t believe how much power that bitch has…”
“Yeah but that jk.seagull boy is super talented regardless.”
“It’s just a shame he wastes his talent on Snow of all people.”
“Right? Like, can you imagine if he wrote something about Park Jimin?? It’d be even more popular than Witch Hazel will ever b-”
The gossip dissipates as you walk into the art room, as if your classmates know you’re the idol they’ve been shit talking. But of course, that isn’t the case. It’s simply your chilling aura that halts any conversation for a brief moment.
You set your guitar case down and take your usual seat at the same table as the only two people who don’t seem to mind your presence.
“Y/N, did you hear? Jungkook became an overnight sensation,” Taehyung whispers to you as he points at the black mass that’s slumped over the table.
“Are you trying to tell me he’s the one who wrote the infamous Witch Hazel?” you yawn, unamused. But out of curiosity you look over to the boy who’s all bundled up under his hood with his head resting against the table, trying to catch up on as much sleep as possible before class begins. There’s no way he could write a fanfic comic about you.
“What? No! No, no, no, no,” Taehyung laughs and pulls out his phone to show you the same tabloid you’d seen the other day—the one that claimed Snow and Jimin were secretly dating. He points to the ominous hooded figure in the background of the photos. “Someone pointed him out in the midst of the whole Snow-Jimin chaos and now he’s a Twitter meme.”
“What kind of meme…?” You only ask because Jungkook does give off major meme vibes. Maybe it’s the way he pairs his round Harry Potter glasses and baggy hoodie with the tiny silver gauges in his ear and the ripped jeans that hug his thighs. He’s like some weeby hipster fusion, and you aren’t quite sure how to feel about that.
You don’t know what you were actually expecting, but it does feel a little shitty when you find out the meme in question features Jungkook as a shocked grim reaper who accidentally kills Snow’s career. Suddenly, you remember why you had chosen to stay away from social media.
“Funny, right?” Taehyung pats his sleeping friend’s broad back to wake him up. “But what’s even funnier is the fact that the cold-hearted Y/N reads fanfic, too??” Jungkook’s head pops up and tilts when he spots you sitting at their table. Oh no. The weeb thinks you’re one of them.
“I don't really read fanfic, okay? It’s just that Witch Hazel happened to be all over the internet, so I was curious.” You wave your hands in defense, praying they don’t get the wrong idea.
“Did you like it?” It’s literally the first fucking time you recall Jungkook ever speaking to you. His voice is much softer towards you than when he chatters with Taehyung, and there’s a genuine curiosity and innocence in his eyes.
“It was fine.” It’s not like you can just say no to those big doe eyes. “I just can’t believe there are people out there who really see Snow as their muse…” And what a relief it is to know.
Jungkook nods, although it seems like he’d say more if he wasn’t so shy. You watch as he pulls out two pages from his sketchbook, one with a realistic sketch of Taehyung’s face, and the other a comic version of a nerdy Jungkook.
“Thanks, friend.” Taehyung slides the beautiful portrait of himself over to the desk space in front of him and angles it towards you. “Stunning, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, too bad you didn't draw it yourself, you snake,” you shake your head. Despite all the hardwork Jungkook put into the portrait, you can’t help but feel bothered by the fact that his friend almost fucked him over with their little deal.
“Aww, don’t be so bitter, Y/N. I’m sure Jungkook would be willing to draw you too if you gave him something in return~” Taehyung winks at you, and as much as you’d love to tell him off, you can’t.
“Shut up, Tae-”
“I don't need his help,” you cut Jungkook off, pulling out your own self-portrait. Somehow it looks a lot uglier now than when you had first finished it. But whatever. At least it’s your own work, your own art. “I don’t need anyone’s help.”
Both Taehyung and Jungkook stare at your art, not really knowing what to say. The more you look at it yourself, the more you see that it doesn’t resemble you.
“Hey it kind of looks like Sn-”
“Alright everyone, it’s time for class to begin.” You’re thankful that your professor cut Taehyung off before his loud mouth said too much. You can’t believe your idiot self accidentally drew your portrait as a glammed-up Snow with her beautiful blue eyes rather than as a bland college kid Y/N with no shits to give. “Let’s start by taking a look at all of our self-portraits.”
You watch as your classmates take out their drawings, some better than others, but none quite as terrible as your own. You suppose you shouldn’t feel bad, considering you didn’t enter a school of the arts with the intentions of becoming an artist with paints and a sketchbook like most of your drawing class did. You entered school with the intentions of becoming an artist with your guitar and notebook. And the only reason why you made the decision to include this unrelated class on your schedule was to escape your failures as the musician you wished to be.
“Taehyung, since you love to talk, why don’t you start us off by introducing your piece? And then we’ll just go around the classroom one-by-one.” Your professor gestures to Jungkook’s drawing of Taehyung’s face. Great. The last thing you want to do is show off your ugly Snow portrait to an entire room of people you don’t really feel close to. If any of them find out you’re an idol, you’ll have to quit school. That was the agreement you made with Seokjin after he encouraged you to give school a chance.
“Well, I’d like to think my portrait is pretty straightforward. My approach was to be as realistic as possible while accentuating my most defining features such as my long eyelashes and beauty marks. And I did this by…” Taehyung goes on and on in such detail about the portrait that he didn’t even draw. It’s actually quite impressive. You envy his ability to speak with such confidence and charisma in a way that makes everyone believe his shitty art skills could produce something so beautiful. He knows how to make everyone his friend.
“Can you believe Taehyung’s that talented at drawing despite being a photography major?” You hear two girls whispering amongst themselves. “He’s incredible.”
Next is Jungkook. You snicker a bit at his drawing because it’s not exactly what you’d expect from the art genius of the class. While he had made Taehyung’s portrait super realistic, his own portrait looks like a bespectacled nerd that came straight out of a manga. Weeb. The thing that stands out most is his big nose. But you find it kind of cute.
“I just drew myself in comic form because that’s what I was most comfortable with,” he says, staring down at his sketch. You can tell he kind of trolled by overemphasizing with some dynamic lines for a more dramatic effect on his meme face.
“Amazing job as always, Jungkook,” your professor gives the boy a thumbs up in approval and elaborates further on the refined techniques he incorporated into the assignment. Jungkook only nods in response to the nice feedback. You appreciate how humble he is despite the professional level of his art. In the corner of your eye, however, you swear you see the same pair of Taehyung fangirls roll their eyes.
Finally it’s your turn. It’s unfortunate that you have to show your shitty artwork right after Jungkook’s two masterpieces, but it could be worse. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time your artistic ability has been criticized and compared with others. As an idol, you deal with that all the time.
“My self-portrait doesn’t look like me because it’s like a mask that superheroes wear to conceal their identities. So people don’t know what’s really hiding beneath the surface.” You don’t mean to darken the mood, but that’s the best way to put it without explicitly saying you have another identity as Snow. No one in your class makes a comment, but you suppose that’s expected. They wouldn't understand.
“And the blue eyes?” You wish your professor wouldn’t prompt you with more questions. Why couldn't she just say you did a good job and move on like she did with everyone else? You feel singled-out.
“I think they’re prettier than my real eyes.” You don’t want to tell everyone you’re a cold-hearted ice queen, but you aren’t completely lying either. Back when you first entered Polar Entertainment, you remember thinking it’d be cute to wear those icy blue contacts for your audition. And you suppose it paid off because you were told you were beautiful with a beautiful voice, perfectly suited to be an idol. But an idol was never what you wanted to be. Beauty wasn’t what you wanted to be remembered by, but that seems to be the only thing people ever praise Snow for.
“So your portrait is more of a reflection of who you’d like to be?” Wrong. Absolutely wrong.
“Yeah,” you say, in hopes that your professor will move on to pestering the next person. Thankfully, she does.
After wasting the majority of class on showcasing everyone’s artwork, your professor announces that there’s a “phase two” in the portrait unit. The new assignment is basically to draw yourself again, “but with the interpretation and direction from two of your classmates.” Your professor also notes that this group project requires a lot of work and interaction outside of class, and that you should get to know your groupmates really well in order to succeed in this assignment. Fantastic. You hate group projects.
You remember the horror stories from high school of being that one kid who couldn’t find a group, or having incompetent groupmates who let you down. You’d much prefer to do the work all on your own. Especially when you know your class has some pretty incompetent students of its own, namely Kim Taehyung. You’d hate to be stuck with that guy.
“Psst, Jungkook, Y/N. Wanna be in a group together?” No, you do not want to be in a group with Taehyung. However, you’re in no position to turn down his offer. Because you’re sure everyone else in your class wouldn’t appreciate having you on their team. That's just the way things are.
“Sure,” you say. Jungkook nods after you. Perhaps working with Jungkook will outweigh being dragged down by a slacker like Taehyung.
“Great, should we hangout after class today? Today’s like the one time I don’t have a date planned.” Taehyung flips through the filled calendar on his phone before handing his phone over for you to give him your number. After doing so, you check your own phone for a text from the boy with his number, but instead you find a message from your boss.
2:46PM monster lady👹 “Snow-- Seokjin informed me that you’ve requested to take time off from work. In light of this and the current situation regarding Park Jimin, please drop by my office today so we can have an open discussion about the best option for you moving forward.”
“I can’t, I have somewhere to go after class. Sorry guys.” You only feel bad because you’re the one holding them back.
“Where do you have to go? Is it a date?” Taehyung asks. Why does this guy only ever think about dates?
“No…” you answer, praying he’ll stop being so nosy.
“Then what-”
“Actually, I’m busy today too,” Jungkook adds before the other boy can say anything else. “I have to do a bunch of drawings for my animation class.”
“Excuses, excuses,” Taehyung shakes his head at you and Jungkook, as if he’s the responsible one in the group. “How did I get stuck with the two most antisocial people in the class?”
“You’re the one who asked us,” is what you want to say, but Jungkook says it for you.
“Fine, fine,” the other boy gives in because he knows he’ll fail the class without his buddy. “I’ll go get laid tonight, I guess.”
You nod, packing your things into bag and picking up your guitar. Before you leave, you realize you forgot something.
“Can I get your number too?” You point your guitar case in Jungkook’s direction. Flustered, he feels around his entire hoodie for his phone, only to remember it’s in the ass pocket of those tight jeans. He looks a bit hesitant about swapping phones with you, and you think it’s probably because he’s never gotten a girl’s number before.
But of course, it’s actually because he’s embarrassed by his lockscreen, a bright photo of Snow with a soft yellow sundress and her guitar. You remember you’d been excited for that photoshoot because you didn’t have to do any of the usual pin-up modeling that your company loves to milk out of you. But it’ll forever leave a bitter taste in your mouth because of the guitar. It was merely a prop, and nothing more.
You don’t say anything as you input your number into his phone, but you’ll never understand his infatuation with an idol as one-dimensional as Snow. Especially when he hasn’t even met her.
-
As you walk down the halls of your company’s building, you try not to get your hopes up. Sure, your boss might’ve sent you a friendly little text about having an “open discussion” with you, but you know she probably already has her mind made up on whatever’ll be best for herself and her company.
Knock. “Come in,” an authoritative voice calls out from the other side of the door. A middle-aged lady with round reading glasses and an edgy A-line bob sits at her desk, hands clasped together, when you step into her office. Yang Sooyoung, CEO of Polar Entertainment, the woman you’ve despised for the majority of your idol career, gestures for you to take the seat in front of her. “How are you today, Snow?”
“Good,” you lie. She doesn’t really give a shit about your well-being anyway, so why bother humoring her.
“That’s good,” she nods. “Were you busy earlier?” You know she’s only asking you this because she’s ticked off that you didn’t come sooner.
“I was just running some errands on my day off.” She isn’t aware that you attend school, and you’d like to keep it that way.
“Oh, I see. But please do try to make this your priority, just as we make you ours.”
“Of course.”
“That being said, we believe it’s best for you to apologize for the recent incident with Park Jimin. After we release a statement, you’ll be able to enjoy your time away from idol work, free of stress.”
“What exactly do you want me to apologize for?” You try your best not to come off sounding too annoyed, but you were never good at acting. Or being fake.
“For being too friendly with the boy, and as a result, causing a misunderstanding.” For being too friendly with a boy? All you recall doing was talking to Jimin for five minutes max.
“I need to apologize for that?”
“Yes,” she nods, completely serious. “I know you shouldn’t have to apologize, but it’s the most efficient way of handling the situation. I spoke to a representative from Bloom Entertainment, and they’ve already dealt with Jimin’s side.”
“I’ll clarify what happened in order to clear up any misunderstanding,” you say. “But I’m still not going to say sorry when I did nothing wrong.”
Your boss raises her pointy eyebrows and shakes her head. “Snow, for the sake of damage control, please just apologize. It doesn’t matter if it’s genuine or not. We just need to handle things professionally here.”
It doesn’t matter if you’re genuine. Just hearing those words infuriates you. “I can’t pretend like I’m obligated to apologize all the time just because I’m an idol with flaws. I don’t owe society anything.”
“But you do owe me and my company something, don’t you think? Who gave you the opportunity to become an idol in the first place? Me. So if you can’t suck it up and apologize to preserve my company’s reputation, then don’t call yourself an idol.”
What you want to do is quit and let your shitty boss rot with her company. The only reason her company has prospered is because of you—not the other way around. Ever since becoming an idol, you’ve felt more dead than alive. Snow, the fabricated idol, may be prospering. But Y/N, the actual girl behind Snow’s mask, is fading.
At the same time, you know you can’t quit. Not for the sake of the company, nor for the sake of money and fame, but for the sake of becoming someone’s hero, anyone’s hero. If you could achieve that goal through other means, you would. But at this rate, being the idol you hate is all you can do to make people happy. At least for now.
So you make your apology and let PR handle the rest. In exchange, you’re given a maximum of half a year to get your shit together before your contract expires.
-
That night, you lay sprawled out on your bed in your pink penguin pajamas. Rather than filling your mind with the toxicity you’ve been dealing with for the past few days, you try to let it go for now. Despite the frustrating talk you had with your boss, reality is sinking in that you have a nice long break ahead. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so relieved. Free.
You even made a promise to yourself that you’d steer far, far away from anything Snow or idol-related for the next few weeks. And there are only two exceptions you’ll make.
The first exception is your manager. As your one and only friend, you do rely on Seokjin more than you’d like to admit. Because not only does he keep you from doing irrational things as an idol, he also keeps you company on your days off from work and school. The two of you get along quite well, and he’s the only person you can be yourself around. He’s like your life boat—without him, you surely would’ve sunk long ago.
The second exception is Witch Hazel. And as soon as you curl up into your bed, you go to the jk.seagull blog, now bookmarked on your phone’s browser. He has several short posts added to his blog since the last time you checked.
“asdfghjkl;;;;”
“sHE!!!”
“i cant believe snow saw witch hazel?? and even tweeted about it??”
“guys this makes me so happy :((((”
“brb crying”
“ok im back but holy fuck wow”
“anyway thank you guys so much for showing this comic a lot of love and support :(((”
“ill try my best to make pt.2 even better! i might be a little busy with art school, but please anticipate another update soon!”
He’s an art student like you. He’s enthusiastic about sharing his art with others, like the way you feel when releasing a new album. He’s genuinely grateful for the support from his audience, like the way you feel at the end of every concert. But he does it all behind a mask, just like you.
Just as you’re about to close your browser and text Seokjin about spending the night, a new post pops up on jk.seagull’s blog.
“lmao heres a sneak peek of pt.2 that no one asked for~”
Beneath the caption is a sketch of little Snow trying to make friends with a bunny boy character, but she fails because she’s too much of a stubborn tsundere. You assume this new bunny character must be a fellow superhero of some sort, a possible ally or maybe even a romantic interest. Either way, you find it both cute and hilarious. Snow could never have a romantic interest in real life, but you suppose it’s nice to dream. At the same time, you laugh because it’s true that you struggle with being too stubborn and closed off to make friends. Somehow, this jk.seagull guy knows you too well.
With that, you close your browser and open the messaging app on your phone. But rather than texting Seokjin like you had originally planned, you start a new chat.
9:37PM Y/N “Taehyung, Jungkook, let’s meet up tomorrow morning if you guys are free to work on the project”
9:38PM Y/N “💃💃💃”
You aren’t sure why you felt the need to include a stream of dancing girl emojis, but maybe it’s the least you can do in an effort to be more friendly.
9:40PM Taehyung “Yeah I’m not free lol”
9:40PM Jungkook “im free💃💃💃”
You’re so distracted by the fact that Jungkook reciprocated the same dancing girl emojis that you skim right over Taehyung’s message.
9:41PM Y/N “Good. Let’s meet at the mall tomorrow at 10?”
A/N: next time on dragon ball z, y/n and jungkook will legit interact, i swear💋
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annewithagee · 5 years
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Know Love When You See It (1)
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“I can’t do this, Gil. I can’t open this door. What it it’s too late? What if we came all this way only to find it was all for naught, because she... she..." A story in which Gilbert's health remains perfectly fine, but that's not enough to bring Anne peace. Alternate ending to AotI. Shirbert.
fanfiction.net / AO3
Chapter 1 A Love Letter
Rusty purred longingly, trying to get his young Mistress’s attention. Anne smiled gently at the sound and reached out to caress the determined feline and yet, her sight remained fixed on the book she held in her other hand,
It was clear that even Rusty didn’t have enough charm to make her abandon Lord Tennyson’s fine work.
“Really, Anne, I never imagined you’d be one to spoil a cat,” Stella scolded her gently. “You used to barely tolerate these animals, and even then you only approved of the clean, well-mannered ones. And here you are, letting the least mannered cat of all lie on Miss Patty’s lovely sofa and encouraging his stay!”
Anne barely looked up at her.
“We let the Sarah-cat and Thomas sleep on the finest of our cushions, darling,” she protested softly. “It wouldn’t be fair to treat Rusty differently. And his manners have improved immensely since we took him in, don’t you think?”
“Well, there wasn’t much to improve to start with.” Stella grimaced. “He had no manners at all – he could only go up from there.”
“I say the important part is that he decided to improve at all. I know what it’s like to be judged for the improper behaviour when there has been no one to teach you anything about it in the first place. I can only marvel at my own initial indifference and lack of understanding towards this unlucky fellow.”
“Oh, enough of this cat talk!” Phil interrupted impatiently then. “You better tell us about this book you’re reading, Queen Anne. You look as if you’ve been wanting to laugh for the past quarter and I am dying to find out why. I’d love to borrow that volume later, too; I could certainly use a good laugh right now.”
“You could always use a good laugh, Phil, no matter what your mood currently is,” Anne retorted cleverly. “And don’t make it sound as if you had any reasons to feel miserable.”
“Tease all you like, Anne, it won’t change a thing. I may be the one getting married next month, but that certainly doesn’t make me any less nervous, no matter how happy I am. I keep having these awful nightmares about Jo changing his mind and leaving me, or about my family suddenly deciding to oppose to the marriage and consequently ruining everything I have hoped for – right when I finally started to believe that I could pass for a respectable wife, even for a minister.”
“Dearest Phil, you know theses nightmares have nothing to do with your future,” Anne protested gently, suppressing a laugh caused by both Philippa’s words and the sight of Stella, mercilessly rolling her eyes at them. “You know Jonas loves you too much to ever give up on you, and even if your family decided to interfere with your happiness in any way – which I am sure they will not – you would not pay it much mind anyway.”
Phil sighed deeply as she sunk on the closest chair. “You are perfectly right, Queen Anne, as you usually are. You know, sometimes I wish I had your wisdom; but then I realise that Jo might not want me so much if I were and I immediately regret making any silly wishes. Anyway, you have not answered my question about your reading: what is it?”
Anne allowed herself a small chuckle this time.
“Something you would not find very amusing, I’m afraid,” she explained softly, her eyes returning to the pages in question. “I’ve been skimming through Lancelot and Elaine, stopping only when I came across the parts dearest to me.”
“And that’s what made you glow so much?” Stella joined the conversation once more. “Why, Anne, I’ve always known you had a rather queer taste in literature, but I would never assume you’d find such tragic poem comical.”
“It’s not so much the poem itself as the memory it brings. I remember discussing it at school in Avonlea, weeping and sighing over poor Elaine’s fate with my friends. I was the most emotional, of course, but the girls were not far behind me.”
Stella nodded with a little more understanding. “I can see how that’s amusing now, although I’d still expect a smile rather than a laughter as a natural reaction to it.”
“That’s because you haven’t heard the best part yet!” Anne responded with a sly smile and began recounting their unfortunate attempt to enact the aforementioned poem on the bright waters of Barry’s Pond. By the time Anne came to the infamous scene of the leaking boat, all three had been shaking with laughter, tears of joy glimmering in more than one pair of eyes.
“Really, Anne!” Phil exclaimed in what was supposed to be a stern tone but couldn’t be due to the cheerful trembling of her voice. “We have lived here together for nearly three years, have known each other for four and for all this time you have not thought it appropriate to treat us with a story like this! Why, I am sure you would have spared me at least one miserable night if you had.”
“She hath kept the good wine until now,” Stella answered, trying as she might to sound as serious and composed as the paraphrase required, and failing spectacularly. “I am only surprised she didn’t wait for Priss to come back – the poor girl will be devastated when she learns how much fun she has missed.”
“There is no need to worry about that,” Anne hastened to explain. “Priscilla had known the whole story long before we even arrived to Redmond and I can assure you that her reaction was every bit as fierce as yours.”
Stella pressed her hand against her chest and sighed with emphasis. “Oh, now I see! Priss gets to know everything in advance while we have to beg! Now, Anne, I am positively wounded!”
“And you two are getting off topic again!” Phil intervened again, this time throwing her arms high in the air for a better effect. “Truly, how you can focus on such nonsense when the great finale is still ahead of us is beyond me.”
“You were the one who started it!” Anne contradicted her with another short laugh.
“I beg your pardon, but my comment was fully justified and in some ways it still referred directly to the story you had told. But enough of this! How did you get off that bridge, Anne?”
The auburn-haired girl chuckled again, a little nervously this time, as she lowered her eyes and fixed them on the text once more.
“That is the part in which my pride suffers most,” she said quietly, forcing a light, careless tone that suddenly felt so inappropriate. “You see, I didn’t really mind climbing that pole – of course, it was uncomfortable and comical, and very different from the romantic scene I had envisioned; but at least there was no one there to see me. And all I needed to do was to hold onto that pole until Mr Barry came to help me out in my distress. He would laugh, of course, but I couldn’t care much for it – he had been an eye-witness to my antics too many times already. Unfortunately, my rescue came from a different party entirely.”
Anne expected her friends to interrupt her with more witty remarks; however, they made none.
“There was...” she picked up hesitantly. “There was a boy in our class, who went rowing on Barry’s Pond that day. He saw me and came closer, offering to take me to the shore in his flat.”
“How romantic,” Stella mused teasingly at that.
“Oh, hardly!” Anne protested vigorously, as if she had been fourteen again, listening to Diana’s most ridiculous comments. “I have never thought of my classmates in terms of romance, but it wouldn’t have been half so bad – half so humiliating – had it been any other boy than the one that came. Dear me, how I hated him then! I had been angry with him before, but it was nothing compared to what I felt on that moment under the bridge.”
“And is there any chance we might know the poor chivalrous knight?” Phil asked, wriggling her eyebrows meaningfully. “Could it be Charles and his big, bulging eyes?”
Anne’s own big eyes widened in surprise at her friend’s abrupt assumption.
“No, not at all!” she denied firmly. “I have never hated Charlie, although I have never been particularly fond of him, either. In fact, I think I’ve always cared too little for him to hold any such strong feelings towards him.”
“Poor Charlie,” Stella remarked with an absolute lack of sympathy. “But if not him, then who?”
“The same boy I had ignored for the three years prior and continued to do so for another two, both at school and at Queen’s – and whom, I believe, you have got to know quite well during our stay here.”
Stella was close to choking on her astonishment. “You mean...”
“Gilbert Blythe, yes,” Anne admitted with a small smile. “And I truly wished it had been anyone but him back then.”
“Not so fast, my dear,” Phil exclaimed now. “I know you and Gilbert have not always been friends – it’s certainly hard to call you friends now – but you can’t tell me you used to hate him!”
“Oh, but I did! Or at least, I wholeheartedly believed so.”
“The same Gilbert who is always so kind and considerate, no matter how little he likes the company he’s in?”
“No, the one who had pulled my braid and called me ‘Carrots’ on our very first day of school.” Anne countered cleverly, her smile widening at the sight of shock that had reflected on her friend’s faces almost immediately. “Well, I suppose you didn’t expect to hear that about him.”
“And that’s why you weren’t friends for so long?” Stella asked with disbelief.
Anne nodded, regaining some of her temporarily lost composure. “We were sworn enemies at the time – at least I was. Gilbert tried to apologise and make things right, but my eleven year old self wouldn’t hear of it; and then I suppose I kept thinking of him in that way because my rise and sense of dignity demanded it. Not to mention, I’ve always had that bit of a competitive strike, and since Gilbert soon turned out to be the only real rival, beating him in class became another matter of honour to me.”
“And you didn’t make your peace that day by the pond?” Phil asked again.
“No,” Anne responded, with a little bit of melancholy – sentiment – embarrassment ringing in her voice. “It was the last time my pettiness made itself known and consequently robbed us both of two years of friendship. He went furious – as furious as someone of Gilbert’s personality can be, anyway – snapped and walked away. He had been a rival before, but he had never seemed to care much about it… But after that encounter he became just as ruthless as I had been from the start.”
“In that case, I suppose your fiery arguments here at Redmond were not even half as bad as we all thought,” Phil muttered under her breath. “It must have been nothing compared to what you two had done at school.”
Anne smiled more sincerely now. “Oh, you should have seen us then. Poor Miss Stacy barely managed to answer our overly grown hunger for knowledge, not to mention that we must have been a terrible distraction from other students, who undoubtedly needed her attention much more than we did. In the end she would just give us more to read, if only to make us stay quiet for a moment at least.”
It was Phil’s turn to nod. “You two really have a history.”
“That we do,” Anne agreed a little wistfully. She brightened up the next moment, however. “But, as one of my dearest friends often says, enough of this! The story was meant to cheer you up, not to make us go down some cold, hostile memory lane. We still have a whole afternoon ahead of us, and I’m not going to waste it in any way. We only have a few short days before we leave Patty’s Place for good, and I am determined to make the most of it – and you don’t even try to talk yourselves out of it!”
“And what would you have us do, Queen Anne?” Stella asked a little sceptically, for which she received a frown from Phil. Seeing the exchange, Anne could hardly do more than laugh wholeheartedly at them.
“I have no idea, my dearest Kindred Spirits!” she cried out with eagerness that didn’t match her words nor the atmosphere from mere moments earlier and yet, her voice resonated with sincerity that could not have been denied. “We can dance and we can sing, or we can leave the house and set off on a journey, if only it doesn’t take us too far away from this most beloved place. I once said that I had two homes – Green Gables and Patty’s Place – and I can’t tell you how happy I am that my feelings towards that matter have not changed at all. It is reassuring to know that one can truly love more than just one place so much.”
“I suppose it must be so, or no one would ever find happiness after they married – save for the people who stayed in their own houses and those who never loved their homes in the first place,” Stella concluded.
Anne nodded in agreement with her words. “It is very true, but let’s not forget those who must leave their homes for reasons other than marriage. Oh, Phil, please don’t give me that look, even if I have deserved it. I know you are still angry with me for what happened yesterday, but I promise you, it has nothing to do with what I meant.”
“What did you mean, then?” Phil asked calmly, refraining from a more blatant comment that was springing to her lips.
“I meant us. Four college girls, thrown into a new life, away from their families, their neighbours, away from the people and places they care for so much. It could have been such miserable four years, full of stress and loneliness, with homesickness threatening to take over us any minute – and instead they were four years of great friendships, and three of them have been spent here. I’m not sure if I could have born to go through the many challenges Redmond had in store, had it not been for the sense of safety this place has given me.”
“Oh, and here I thought it was our unconditional love and support that had pushed you through!” Stella exclaimed, her hand once again flying to her chest in a dramatic gesture. “Now, you have really hurt my feelings, Anne. Excruciatingly!”
Anne laughed wholeheartedly at her friend’s words, basking in the joy this wonderful comradeship could give.
“Tease all you like -” she said with confidence. “you will not succeed in ruining my good spirits. The day is just too lovely for any sort of pettiness; you can say whatever you want and I won’t take offence. I’m in a forgiving mood – I feel you that if the worst of my enemies came to visit me today, I could not hold grudge against them.”
“Poor Gilbert!” Phil cried out then. “If only he had known that day would come, he might have waited for it, instead of trying to make peace with you over some pond only minutes after he had so unnecessarily rescued you!”
Anne did not find the comment worthy of her answer and decided to resort to violence instead. In one swift motion she grabbed the nearest cushion and threw it at Phil, hitting her right in her smiling face; the latter squeaked in shock but caught the missile in perfect reflex and threw it back at her aggressor without hesitation.
That was the setting in which Priscilla found them in.
“I leave you alone for an hour and you turn into children we used to teach!” she exclaimed in the tone of a perplexed matron, as if she had been at least a decade older than her frivolous friends. “Truly, Anne, what would the board of Avonlea school think if they saw what their favourite schoolmarm does when left unsupervised?”
“I have never been their favourite, so how would I know?” Anne answered her question laughingly, catching the cushion that had once again flown in her direction; however, she refrained from tossing it back. Priscilla raised her gaze to the ceiling, most probably asking the Good Lord to give her patience necessary for dealing with the force her companions undoubtedly were.
“They should take away your B. A.s for behaving like this,” she muttered under her breath as she shrugged off her coat and took off her hat. “I’m not surprised to see Anne or Phil act like that, but you, Stella? Why, I believed you to be the sensible one at least.”
“Don’t lump me together with them,” Stella opposed. “These two won’t listen to anyone and certainly not me.”
“They better do listen to me, though, because I have some great news that should interest them. I’ve been to the post office and there was at least half a dozen letters addressed to us.”
“And I bet half of those are for Phil,” Anne commented teasingly, standing up and approaching Priscilla, ready to take some of the many packages the other girl had brought with her. “Let me take these, Priss, as I’m sure none of those letters are for me. After all, I never receive any letters on Monday.”
“How can you be so sure?” Priscilla asked suggestively. “What if I told you that it’s your turn to receive Phil’s usual, ridiculous share?”
Anne shook her head vigorously. “Impossible! The only letters I am waiting for are the ones from Green Gables and those always arrive on Wednesday, and sum up the whole previous week, together with Mrs Lynde’s great commentary on the minister’s latest sermon.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t change the fact that one of these letters really has you name written on it – and the handwriting does look to me as if it was Mrs Lynde’s, indeed.”
“It can’t be,” Anne repeated; but the treacherous smile was beginning to blossom on her joyful countenance and not a minute passed before she had whipped the envelope from Priscilla’s hand and pressed in to her chest, barely deigning the item with a glance.
“This truly is the most wonderful of days!” she said excitedly. “Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, you bring this! Dear Priss, you really are a herald of good news!”
And with that she ran towards the sofa and sank on it once more, impatient to learn the contents of the letter that had already gladdened her so much.
“My, my, Anne!” Phil remarked with a dry smile and a slight rise of her eyebrows. “Judging from your excitement, one could think it is a love letter you are holding; if I didn’t know any better, I would swear it was Roy Gardner who had written to you again.”
“Oh, but it as a love letter, and it’s the most beautiful one – better than any suitor could ever send!”  Anne protested firmly, glancing from over the letter with her bright eyes. “No one has ever loved me more dearly than those who lived at Green Gables and I doubt anyone ever could. Green Gables letters always are the most affectionate ones; even if sometimes I am the only one who can feel and see it hidden between the lines.”
“Even if those lines are written by Mrs Rachel Lynde?” Priss asked.
Anne nodded eagerly.
“Even if,” she confirmed resolutely. “Mrs Lynde is a dear soul and a true Kindred Spirit, even if our first encounter seemed to prove the opposite; besides, it never is just Mrs Lynde that writes, although she addresses the envelopes to spare Marilla the trouble. Oh, I can’t wait to read about all the scrapes Davy has got himself in since the last time! I did not expect this letter to come for the next two days and now I can’t imagine delaying it for another minute!”
The three friends gifted her with the same bemused look before chuckling cheerfully.
“Well, in that case I suggest you go to your room at once, Miss Anne,” Phil advised with feign seriousness. “Otherwise you’ll just keep talking to us and we’ll never get to learn what this precious letters is really about.”
“I am not going anywhere.” Anne protested for the last time. “I will sit here for the whole time and share all of the best parts with you immediately. Oh, what a feast this is going to be!”
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