#certainty things are going to be better than i expect even haha | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pumpkinpaix · 3 years

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hello there, hope you're having a nice day <3

so i've been reading a lot of fics lately, uk for sanity's sake, and i've noticed that in most of them, lwj doesn't use contractions (eg., says do not instead of don't)?? and i think he doesn't in the novel either but i don't remember lol so i can't be sure but anyway that made me curious - does chinese have contractions as well? does he not use it bc it's informal?

hello there! I’m doing all right, i started to answer this ask while waiting for a jingyeast loaf to come out of the oven 😊 many thanks to @bookofstars for helping me look over/edit/correct this post!! :D

anyways! the answer to your questions are complicated (of course it is when is anything simple with me), so let’s see if I can break it down--you’re asking a) whether chinese has contractions, b) if it does, how does they change the tone of the sentence--is it similar to english or no?, and c) how does this all end up with lan wangji pretty much never using contractions in english fic/translation?

I’m gonna start by talking about how formality is (generally) expressed in each language, and hopefully, by the end of this post, all the questions will have been answered in one way or another. so: chinese and english express variations in formality/register differently, oftentimes in ways that run contrary to one another. I am, as always, neither a linguist nor an expert in chinese and english uhhh sociological grammar? for lack of a better word. I’m speaking from my own experience and knowledge :D

so with a character like lan wangji, it makes perfect sense in english to write his dialogue without contractions, as contractions are considered informal or colloquial. I don’t know if this has changed in recent years, but I was always taught in school to never use contractions in my academic papers.

However! not using contractions necessarily extends the length of the sentence: “do not” takes longer to say than “don’t”, “cannot” is longer than “can’t” etc. in english, formality is often correlated with sentence length: the longest way you can say something ends up sounding the most formal. for a very simplified example, take this progression from least formal to absurdly formal:

whatcha doin’?

what’re you doing?

what are you doing? [standard colloquial]

may I ask what you are doing?

might I inquire as to what you are doing?

excuse me, but might I inquire as to what you are doing?

pardon my intrusion, but might I inquire as to what you are doing?

please pardon my intrusion, but might inquire as to the nature of your current actions?

this is obviously a somewhat overwrought example, but you get the point. oftentimes, the longer, more complex, more indirect sentence constructions indicate a greater formality, often because there is a simultaneous decreasing of certainty. downplaying the speaker’s certainty can show deference (or weakness) in english, while certainty tends to show authority/confidence (or aggression/rudeness).

different words also carry different implications of formality—in the example, I switched “excuse me” to “pardon me” during one of the step ups. pardon (to me at least) feels like a more formal word than “excuse”. Similarly, “inquire” is more formal than “ask” etc. I suspect that at least some of what makes one word seem more formal than one of its synonyms has to do with etymology. many of english’s most formal/academic words come from latin (which also tends to have longer words generally!), while our personal/colloquial words tend to have germanic origins (inquire [latin] vs ask [germanic]).

you’ll also notice that changing a more direct sentence structure (“may I ask what”) to a more indirect one (“might I inquire as to”) also jumps a register. a lot of english is like this — you can complicate simple direct sentences by switching the way you use the verbs/how many auxiliaries you use etc.

THE POINT IS: with regards to english, more formal sentence structures are often (not always) longer and more indirect than informal ones. this leads us to a problem with a character like lan wangji.

lan wangji is canonically very taciturn. if he can express his meaning in two words rather than three, then he will. and chinese allows for this—in extreme ways. if you haven’t already read @hunxi-guilai’s post on linguistic register (in CQL only, but it’s applicable across the board), I would start there because haha! I certainly do Not have a degree in Classical Chinese lit and she does a great job. :D

you can see from the examples that hunxi chose that often, longer sentences tend to be more informal in chinese (not always, which I’ll circle back to at the end lol). Colloquial chinese makes use of helping particles to indicate tone and meaning, as is shown in wei wuxian’s dialogue. and, as hunxi explained, those particles are largely absent from lan wangji’s speech pattern. chinese isn’t built of “words” in the way English is—each character is less a word and more a morpheme—and the language allows for a lot of information to be encoded in one character. a single character can often stand for a phrase within a sentence without sacrificing either meaning or formality. lan wangji makes ample use of this in order to express himself in the fewest syllables possible.

so this obviously leads to an incongruity when trying to translate his dialogue or capture his voice in English: shorter sentences are usually more direct by nature, and directness/certainty is often construed as rudeness -- but it might seem strange to see lan wangji’s dialogue full of longer sentences while the narration explicitly says that he uses very short sentences. so what happens is that many english fic writers extrapolated this into creating an english speech pattern for lan wangji that reads oddly. they’ll have lan wangji speak in grammatically incoherent fragments that distill his intended thought because they’re trying to recreate his succinctness. unfortunately, English doesn’t have as much freedom as Chinese does in this way, and it results in lan wangji sounding as if he has some kind of linguistic impediment and/or as if he’s being unspeakably rude in certain situations. In reality, lan wangji’s speech is perfectly polite for a young member of the gentry (though he’s still terribly rude in other ways lol). he speaks in full, and honestly, quite eloquent sentences.

hunxi’s post already has a lot of examples, but I figure I’ll do one as well focused on the specifics of this post.

I’m going to use this exchange from chapter 63 between the twin jades because I think it’s a pretty simple way to illustrate what I’m talking about:

蓝曦臣道：“你亲眼所见？”

蓝忘机道：“他亲眼所见。”

蓝曦臣道：“你相信他？”

蓝忘机道：“信。”

[...] 蓝曦臣道：“那么金光瑶呢？”

蓝忘机道：“不可信。”

my translation:

Lan Xichen said, “You saw it with your own eyes?”

Lan Wangji said, “He saw it with his own eyes.”

Lan Xichen said, “You believe him?”

Lan Wangji said, “I believe him.”

[...] Lan Xichen said, “Then what about Jin Guangyao?”

Lan Wangji said, “He cannot be believed.”

you can see how much longer the (pretty literal) english translations are! every single line of dialogue is expanded because things that can be omitted in chinese cannot be omitted in english without losing grammatical coherency. i‘ll break a few of them down:

Lan Xichen’s first line:

你 (you) 亲眼 (with one’s own eyes) 所 (literary auxiliary) 见 (met/saw)？

idk but i love this line a lot lmao. it just has such an elegant feel to me, probably because I am an uncultured rube. anyways, you see here that he expressed his full thought in five characters.

if I were to rewrite this sentence into something much less formal/much more modern, I might have it become something like this:

你是自己看见的吗？

你 (you) 是 (to be) 自己 (oneself) 看见 (see) 的 (auxiliary) 吗 (interrogative particle)？

i suspect that this construction might even be somewhat childish? I’ve replaced every single formal part of the sentence with a more colloquial one. instead of 亲眼 i’ve used 自己, instead of 所见 i’ve used 看见的 and then also added an interrogative particle at the end for good measure (吗). To translate this, I would probably go with “Did you see it yourself?”

contained in this is also an example of how one character can represent a whole concept that can also be represented with two characters: 见 vs 看见. in this example, both mean “to see”. we’ll see it again in the next example as well:

in response to lan xichen’s, “you believe him?” --> 你 (you) 相信 (believe) 他 (him)? lan wangji answers with, “信” (believe).

chinese does not do yes or no questions in the same way that english does. there is no catch-all for yes or no, though there are general affirmative (是／有) and negative (不／没) characters. there are other affirmative/negative characters, but these are the ones that I believe are the most common and also the ones that you may see in response to yes or no questions on their own. (don’t quote me on that lol)

regardless, the way you respond to a yes or no question is often by repeating the verb phrase either in affirmative or negative. so here, when lan xichen asks if lan wangji believes wei wuxian, lan wangji responds “believe”. once again, you can see that one character can stand in for a concept that may also be expressed in two characters: 信 takes the place of 相信. lan wangji could have responded with “相信” just as well, but, true to his character, he didn’t because he didn’t need to. this is still a complete sentence. lan wangji has discarded the subject (I), the object (him), and also half the verb (相), and lost no meaning whatsoever. you can’t do this in english!

and onto the last exchange:

lan xichen: 那么 (then) 金光瑶 (jin guangyao) 呢 (what about)？

lan wangji: 不可 (cannot) 信 (believe)

you can actually see the contrast between the two brothers’ speech patterns even in this. lan xichen’s question is not quite as pared down as it could be. if it were wangji’s line instead, I would expect it to read simply “金光瑶呢？” which would just be “what about jin guangyao?” 那么 isn’t necessary to convey the core thought -- it’s just as how “then what about” is different than “what about”, but “then” is not necessary to the central question. if we wanted to keep the “then” aspect, you could still cut out 么 and it would be the same meaning as well.

a FINAL example of how something can be cut down just because I think examples are helpful:

“I don’t know” is usually given as 我不知道. (this is what nie huaisang says lol) It contains subject (我) and full verb (知道). you can pare this straight down to just 不知 and it would mean the same thing in the correct context. i think most of the characters do this at least once? it sounds more literary -- i don’t know that i would ever use it in everyday speech, but the fact remains that it’s a possibility. both could be translated as “I do not know” and it would be accurate.

ANYWAYS, getting all the way back to one of your original questions: does chinese have contractions? and the answer is like... kind of...?? but not really. there’s certainly slang/dialect variants that can be used in ways that are reminiscent of english contractions. the example I’m thinking of is the character 啥 (sha2) which can be used as slang in place of 什么 (shen2 me). (which means “what”)

so for a standard sentence of, 你在做什么? (what are you doing), you could shorten down to just 做啥? and the second construction is less formal than the first, but they mean the same thing.

other slang i can think of off the top of my head: 干嘛 (gan4 ma2) is also informal slang for “what are you doing”. and i think this is a regional thing, but you can also use 搞 (gao3) and 整 (zheng3) to mean “do” as well.

so in the same way that you can replace 什么 with 啥, you can replace 做 as well to get constructions like 搞啥 (gao3 sha2) and 整啥 (zheng3 sha2).

these are all different ways to say “what are you doing” lmao, and in this case, shorter is not, in fact, more formal.

woo! we made it to the end! I hope it was informative and helpful to you anon. :D

this is where I would normally throw my ko-fi, but instead, I’m actually going to link you to this fundraising post for an old fandom friend of mine. her house burned down mid-september and they could still use help if anyone can spare it! if this post would have moved you to buy me a ko-fi, please send that money to her family instead. :) rbs are also appreciated on the post itself. (* ´▽` *)

anyways, here’s the loaf jingyeast made :3 it was very tasty.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #the untamed #the untamed meta #lan wangji #lan wangji meta #mine #mymeta #linguistics #chinese #english #cyan chinese school #cyan help desk #languages #contractions #register #look man idk how am i gonna tag this #*yeets into the void*

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!!

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread.

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing.

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly.

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed.

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds.

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way.

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night?

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark.

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan.

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer.

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty.

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.”

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.”

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.”

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?”

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.”

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down.

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.”

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting.

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit.

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?”

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.”

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?”

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.”

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.”

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?”

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.”

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips.

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.”

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second.

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?”

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.”

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?”

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.”

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.”

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.”

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t.

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone.

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways.

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.”

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place.

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more.

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.”

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.”

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.”

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me.

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches.

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.”

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.”

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.”

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.”

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.”

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.”

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him.

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact.

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.”

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not.

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…”

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?”

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.”

“More than I should?”

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.”

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?”

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.”

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.”

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?”

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.”

“I don’t understand.”

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?”

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.”

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--”

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.”

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.”

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.”

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.”

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh.

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.”

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown.

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.”

“Kirigan--”

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.”

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear.

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it.

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before.

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.”

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine.

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.”

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip.

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.”

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly.

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more.

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.”

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.”

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise.

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.”

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived.

“I have to go.”

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.”

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--”

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.”

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?”

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.”

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible.

He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is.

“Soon,” he promises again.

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

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mizunetzu · 4 years

Note

haha it's me again! could i get iida dating a delinquent male reader? (stuff like he smokes and breaks rules) like iidas trying to get the reader to follow the rules and he's like "i'll do that if you go on a date with me" so he does and the readers actually a really chill guy and they have a fun time, some fluff please?

IIDA DUDE MY GOD. MY RELIGION. MY SAVIOR. ok. Okok so. You said fluff and I delivered. But like-I mayyyyybe sprinkled in some angst. No worries. Fluff ending guaranteed. Also you know I enjoyed writing something when I broke my 1000 words rule. Like sheesh this is 3000 pLUS WORDS-

Also if iidareaders reblogs I’ll eat my shirt in joy

——————

Iida x reader - Selfish Promise

⚠️warnings - delinquent reader? Selfish-y Iida? Idk. None lmao

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

(Y/n) wasn’t going to lie. Iida really got on his nerves. He’s always up his ass about sagging his pants down low, or running in the hallways. It’s not like it was his business. He was in class 1-B, for god sakes.

Everyone in 1-A knew him as that “1-B boy” who always liked fucking with Iida. And he did, it was fun to see him get all pissy and red when he unbuttoned his dress shirt to the point you could easily flash him if you tugged hard enough. Iida was pretty, but even more pretty when he’s flustered. He wasn’t going to deny the fluttery feeling in his chest when he sees an opportunity to interact with Iida.

Which is how (y/n) found himself smoking outside the UA dorms, sitting outside on the steps and staring up at the sky. He didn’t smoke much, only when he really needed to destress, but something felt compelling to just pull one out today.

He already heard the engine boosted footsteps hurling his way, a smile growing on his lips. Once the blue haired boy was in sight however, he wiped it off and replaced it with a neutral expression.

“You shouldn’t be smoking on school property, (L/n)-kun!”

“Mm? And you shouldn’t be on 1-Bs dorms. Wait til Vlad or Monoma finds out.”

Iida stumbled back, biting back the scowl forming on his face. He took the cigarette out from (y/n’s) fingers, and stomped on it. (Y/n) clicked his tongue as Iida hiked his glasses up his nose further.

“Stop acting like such a ruffian!”

“Then go on a date with me.”

Iida choked on his own spit. He knew that (y/n) joked around a lot, but this was just excessive.

“(L-L/n), you shouldn’t joke about such intimate matters like that with someone you barely kn-“

“I’m not joking.” (Y/n) stood up from his step, and stood infront of the taller boy. “I’m dead serious.”

Iida opened his mouth, then closed it. “(L/n) it is highly inappropriate for two students, let alone boys, to go on a romantic outing! This is a place for learning!”

“How bout we make a promise then? A deal if you must.” (Y/n) seemed completely calm, but inside he was sweating like a clam. He had said it on impulse, and there was no going back. Either sell it till he declines or hell, he has a date.

“If you be my boyfriend and go out with me for one full day, I’ll stop acting like a ‘ruffian’ or something. I’ll follow the rules and whatnot.”

“B-boyf...” Iidas words got caught in his mouth. “W-WHY?”

“I’m not going to try anything...! It’s..it’s just for my own...reasons...! If...that makes sense...”

Iida ran a hand through his hair. Did (L/n), a delinquent, like-like him? A proper former man from the Iida family? He wasn’t romantically attracted to the shorter boy at all, but this was a good chance! He could finally be set on the right path if he agreed to be his significant other for one day! Easy enough!

Iida pushed up his glasses once more. “Fine. I will do it. But afterwards you better keep your end of the bargain.”

(Y/n) held the tiniest smile and extended his pinky. Iida looked at him confused, before hesitantly interlocking their fingers and shaking it.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Gimme your number. I’ll text you the info later.” They exchanged phone numbers, and Iida bid him goodbye.

(Y/n) felt like he was on top of the world.

—————

“Oi Iida! Over here!” (Y/n) waved his arms around frantically, trying to get the boys attention. Iida spotted him, and made a beeline towards him. He gave a smile and bowed slightly.

“Good morning, (L/n)-kun.”

“Morning! Haha, I’m glad you came! I didn’t think you’d actually show...and you’re on time aswell! As expected of uptight iida.”

(Y/n) was in a pink, slightly oversized hoodie and black sweatpants. Iida was expecting him to be in full black, ripped clothing with skulls on it. He wasn’t expecting him to look so...soft? If you looked at him, you wouldn’t think he was the same person smoking on the steps of a prestigious school.

“Oh well, what time did you get here?”

“An hour ago.”

Iida deadpanned. Even he wasn’t that extra. “Why...”

(Y/n) rubbed the back of his neck shyly and chuckled. “I was so happy I couldn’t wait, ahaha!”

(Y/n’s) probably smiled more times today then the whole time he’s been enrolled into UA. It was an odd sight, but Iida felt a sort of proudness that he was probably the only one who got to see this side of him. He glanced at his face one more time, this time, looking at his red eyes and cheeks.

“...are your eyes swollen..?”

“Oh I...I couldn’t sleep...”

(Y/n) awkwardly chuckled for the 100th time that morning. Iida was about to go on a tangent about how sleep is important to you, but (y/n) suddenly grabbed his wrist, and pulled him forwards. He was practically dragging the poor boy.

“Is there anything specific you wanna do, Iida?” (Y/n) mused, looking around the plaza.

Iida shrugged.

“No, not really. Today’s more of your day, so I’m fine with anything.”

A bright red painted itself onto (y/n’s) cheeks, as he turned back around to hide it. It was usually iida getting all red and flustered, (y/n) wasn’t used to it. Still, it felt kinda nice.

“Awesome dude!”

(Y/n) went on rambling about places they could go to or eat at, but Iidas ears drowned out the noice as he looked at his smiling face. He didn’t know someone so...rude, could look so sweet. (Y/n) tugged at Iidas shoulder.

“...though I suppose, we could just go to a field and train, right?”

—————

(Y/n) got back up to his feet for the 5th time, and charged at Iida. He knew he couldn’t beat him with speed, so he’d have to rely on his quirk as much as he could. They were sparring in a little patch of grass near a small clearing, with a big tree providing the two boys shade. Iida swerved out of the way, making the smaller boy tumble onto the ground face first.

“Ah! (Y/n)! Are you okay?”

Iida rushed to the boys side and tangled his fingers in his hair. “It’s a little swollen but it’s not bleedi...(L/n)-kun...?”

(Y/n) hid his blush with the back of his hands and tensed up. “You..called me...(y/n)...dude..”

It was Iidas turn to tense up. His glasses fogged up as he swung his arms around madly. “IM TERRIBLY SORRY! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I SWEAR! IJUSTGOTWORRIEDANDSAIDITONACCIDEN-“

“Dude it’s fine! I-I dont mind..!” (Y/n) jabbed him lightly on the chest.

“L-let me treat you to some food! As apology for your head I mean!” Iida stood up, pulling (y/n) to his feet aswell.

—————

(Y/n) was rambling on nervously again, with chopsticks resting nimbly between his fingers. Iida couldn’t help but gaze at his face. His eyes were softer than he expected, softer than the mockingly hardened eyes he pointed like a sword towards people at UA. His gentle clad smile could raise the heavens, with one crinkle near his left eye and a dimple dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. He had unusually long eyelashes for a guy, but it made him look even more pretty for a bad boy.

“Why are you a delinquent at school when you’re such a sweet and funny person?” The words dripped out of Iidas mouth unconsciously, quickly covering his mouth too late.

(Y/n) flushed bright red, squeezing his chopsticks a little too tightly. “W-well...I don’t know. It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. People just think I am because i don’t like socializing with everyone I meet? Like-id rather hang out with someone I know and like than go out of my my way to befriend all of class B, y’know? Does that make sense? Ahaha sorry I’m rambling again. I don’t get to talk much with my few friends. And they’ve pretty much heard everything I have to say so it’s refreshingtotalktoa-“

Iida cut him off before he talked his tongue off. “If you don’t talk to people you don’t know well, then why are you talking to me so openly?”

“Because I like you.”

(Y/n) said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He wasn’t tripping over his words, or laughing nervously. He looked at Iida and said it like saying “the sky is blue” with so much certainty, it made a knot tighten in iidas throat.

Iidas question was, why though? Why did his heart thump along the buttery smooth rhythm of (y/n’s) voice? Why did his head reel every time he saw (y/n’s) eyes light up talking about something he found interesting? Why was he at such a loss for words when his gaze fell on him so attentively?

Iida cleared his throat. Maybe he was just excited to have a new friend. He didn’t see him in a romantic light! How could he? He’s just worked up on the fact that this hardass delinquent boy wasn’t who he thought he was.

“Shall we go, then?”

————

The date went by like a dream. Technically it wasn’t over yet, as the promise was for a full “day”, but window shopping and dicking around while Iida chops aggressively really tires you out. They both ended the day by sparring at the same clearing, before taking refuge on a bus stop bench. The sun was completely gone. Leaving behind the pasty purple and blue sky, washing over and killing the clouds.

“Ahhh, time flies by so fast! Damn, well, the days still not yet over soooo.”

“Yes, yes I know.” Iida chuckled. He thought he was going to have to bear through this day, but it was actually quite splendid. He definitely feels like he’s made a new friend.

“Well, is there anything you wish to do before the day is over?”

“Yeah um, so,” (y/n) cast his eyes down, fiddling with his fingers. “C-can we hold hands..?”

Iida wordlessly set his hand on top of (y/n’s) smaller one, waiting as he interlocked their fingers together. His hand was warm, way warmer than (y/n) was expected. He didn’t know, Iida seemed like a cold hands guy.

They sat quietly under the ambient streetlight, occasionally rubbing a thumb over the others hand, feeling it’s warmth and staring off into the distance. Iida didn’t notice his eyes drooping lower and lower until they were finally closed.

Iida let his thoughts roam. It was something he did when he was going to bed, or simply just resting his eyes for a bit. He thought of his family, what he would do for class on Monday, and finally, (y/n). It was the most prominent thing on his mind, and not because he was unconsciously resting his head on his shoulder, softly but firmly gripping the warm hand underneath his own.

The idea of (y/n) so soft and vulnerable in front of anyone else didn’t sit right with him. He wanted that sweet, kind side all to himself. It was selfish, and even wrong if he thought about it. (Y/n) was so sweet and respectable during this “date” of theirs. Perfect manners for when inside the classroom. If anything, he should be more than glad to have the world share this side of him.

So why was he feeling this way?

He felt a shoulder nudge from under his head, before a hand started vigorously poking at his cheek. He initially ignored it, but once he registered the current situation he jerked up and

“Iida. Iida wake up. It’s 11:40. We should be heading back before midnight. A-at least I want to so we can um...we can still technically legally hold hands by promise-“

Iida rubbed at his eyes in embarrassment. “My sincerest apologies for falling asleep! It was not my intention-“

”oh no it’s all good! I-I kinda fell asleep too. It’s been like...2 hours.”

Iida checked his watch. (Y/n) was right. 11:45 pm. He knocked his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose and stood up. He extended a hand to (y/n) who tiredly accepted it and pulled himself off the bench.

They spedwalked towards the train station to catch a train back to UA, when (y/n) tugged on his sleeve, halting temporarily.

“Iida.”

Iida turned around with a hum. (Y/n) kept his eyes fixated on the ground, but held on to the sleeve of Iidas jacket like a lifeline.

“Today...is almost over.”

“Yes, um, it’s about 11:57 so we should hurry back-“

“Before the day officially ends,...can you kiss me?”

Iida focused on (y/n’s) downcast face. It wasn’t an expression of nervousness or any sort of flustered emotion. Instead it held a look of unreadable shame.

“If you do, then I would have no regrets. My feelings for you will also end here. I’ll try my best to end it. My feelings grow stronger for you everyday when we bicker or when I simply just see you, so I want to end this with a grand fina-“

“I refuse.”

(Y/n) looked up. Iida glasses glared white, preventing him from seeing his cerulean eyes. But he got his answer from the frown Iida was sporting on his face. Even he could agree, it was a silly request, but he couldn’t help by feeling just a tad bit hurt by how quickly he was shut down.

“I understand.”

(Y/n) averted his eyes, flushing with embarrassment. He scanned the area for something other than Iida to look at, before his eyes landed on the parks clock.

12 am.

Midnight.

The date was officially over.

(Y/n) was quick to let go of the sleeve he’d been clutching for a while now. “A-ah! The day has ended. The dates over.”

He stepped back and ducked his head into a 90 degree bow. “Thank you so so much for coming with me today.”

“I’m really happy.”

His expression betrayed his words. If there was one word to describe it, Iida would say it looked dead. Hollow, even. It looked hollow, like the sinking feeling harboring itself in his chest. He knocked against his ribcage multiple times to shake the achy feeling in his chest, but it never went away.

“Well, let’s head back now. It’s late.”

(Y/n) silently walked past Iida. It wasn’t until seeing his watery face drenched in silent hot tears walk by that Iida realized,

He was in love with (L/n) (Y/n).

He was in love with the sweet delinquent boy who smokes and sits on desks, but also has the most hypnotizing laugh. He was in love with the boy who wore saggy pants to school, but also wore an oversized pink hoodie that made Iida reluctantly imagine him wearing one of his own jackets. Oh, how cute he would look.

He was hopelessly, graciously, entirely in love with (L/n) (Y/n).

Iida ran up to (y/n), who had walked past him and kept going with the assumption that he was behind him. His breath crystallized in the form of fog when he ran, faster than he ever did without using his engines. There wasn’t enough time to hike the fabric of his pants up, and he’d rather not burn them to a crisp with the steam from his engine.

“(L-L/n)!”

He wasn’t sure if he heard him. He was still a great length away.

“(L/n)!”

He was closer now. Close enough for him to hear. He was either lost in his thoughts or outright ignoring him.

“(Y/N)!”

The boy whipped his head around so fast, his tears flung into the cold air and landed beside him on the ground. Iida didn’t think far ahead as to brace for landing, choosing instead to glomp (y/n) into a soul crushing hug. Though, it was more of a tackle with the the way they both tumbled over and hit the ground with a thud.

(Y/n) was able to soften the blow with his quirk, but the impact of Iida landing on his chest still knocked the wind out of him. He was waiting for Iida to start swinging his hands and start apologizing profusely, but instead got pulled up to his knees and encased in a more gentle hug.

He was buried in the crook of Iida neck, who in return nuzzled himself into (y/n’s) hair. They stood, or rather kneeled, in a stiff silence, rocking back and forth ever so gently.

“Sorry.”

“Wah! Don’t apologize! You did nothing wrong, you had the full right to deny my request-“

“No, not for that.” Iida untangled himself from the warmth of (y/n’s) body to look at him seriously. “I’m sorry for breaking our promise. Our deal.”

(Y/n) wiped his stray tears away, all bitterness turning itself into lighthearted confusion. “But you didnt-“

(Y/n’s) words fizzled out in his throat when a pair of lips shut him up. His eyes fluttered closed as he wrapped his arms shakily around Iidas neck, drawing him closer than he already his. After what seemed like forever, Iida suddenly jumped back with fogged up glasses and heavy blush on his face.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking! Forgive me!”

“You know, all you’ve done was apologize all day. Is this what you normally do in class?”

“NO!” Iida fell back on his ass, a yelp escaping from his throat. (Y/n) chuckled ironically, pushing himself up to his feet and extending a hand towards the blue haired boy.

“I still don’t see how you broke our deal.”

Iida dusted himself off and adjusted his glasses. “Well-listen I-“ For once in his life, he was at a loss for words.

“I...want to e-extent it. O-Our date, I mean.”

Iida stood rigid as a board as (y/n) blinked.

“Wait-so like, you’ll go out with me tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“And the day after that.”

“Yes I suppose so.”

“A-and how bout a week from now-“

Iida grabbed (y/n’s) shoulders and shook him roughly. And by rough, I mean rough. This boy has enough beef to throw (y/n) into the sun.

“I-I WANT TO GO OUT WITH YOU FOREVER! I WANT YOU TO BE MY BOYFRIEND! I...I WANT TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND! I WANT YOUR KINDNESS AND SWEETNESS ALL TO MYSELF! SO BE IT YOU’RE UNINTENTIONALLY A NEGLIGENT BOY AT SCHOOL! I WANT THIS SPECIAL SIDE OF YOU RESERVED FOR MYSELF! IVE NEVER BEEN SELFISH IN MY WHOLE LIFE SO SURELY THIS IS FINE! I WANT TO BE SELFISH! I WANT TO HOLD YOU IN MY ARMS MORE! I WANT TO GO ON SOME MORE DATES WITH YOU! (Y/N)-KUN I LOVE YOU!”

Iida has never considered himself selfish. He wasn’t the type to want something all to himself. If his friends wanted to be friends with someone he disapproved of, so be it. If he bought food but a fellow classmate was starving, he’d be eating only half as his classmate would be happily munching on their portion. If it was reasonable, he’d be willing to give up anything. It was the right thing to do.

Surely all of those good deeds would permit him to be selfish just this once. He’d never known the feeling of wanting something so bad to the point you felt like you were boiling. Of wanting no one else to have someone look at them the same way they looked at him. And how utterly satisfying it felt to have someone to claim as your own. Just this once couldn’t hurt anyone.

And by god, the impossibly wide smile (y/n) held was one thousand percent worth it.

————

“Halt! No running in the hallways, (L/n)-Kun!”

(Y/n) slowed down to a stop and sighed. “Dude, get off my dick.”

“Still pestering (L/n) huh? As expected of Iida!” Mina and Uraraka giggled, as they both disappeared inside the 1-A classroom. The hallway was empty now, making both Iida and (y/n) relax. (Y/n’s) pissed off expression softened, a smile now growing on his face. Iida swears it’s like talking to two different people. It’s kind of scary.

“Good morning, Tenya-Chan~”

“Uh-uh. Don’t ‘Tenya-Chan’ me. You know the rules. You owe me a kiss for breaking a rule. Gimme.”

Iida made grabby hands at (y/n), puckering his lips jokingly. God, he didn’t want to admit it but (y/n’s) sense of humor was rubbing off on him.

(Y/n) snorted at his boyfriends antics, pressing a gentle kiss onto his mouth. “Well-I gotta go, bye bye, Tenya! See you later. Call me, you sexy lamppost.”

(Y/n) timpered off to his classroom, his bad boy attitude returning once he stepped inside. Iida stood there, in utter confusion, before turning around and walking inside his own class.

“Ne ne, Iida, I’ve noticed you’re kinda like...less strict with that 1-B baddie. What’s up?”

Mina followed behind Iida with a curious, shit eating smile on her face.

“Ah. We...became good friends. He’s not as bad as I thought, I suppose.”

Mina looked at Iida unconvinced.

“You know, I saw you and bad boy kissing out there. My god. Iida. You gay liar.”

Iida, along with probably everyone else in class 1-A, collectively choked on air.

——————

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suddencolds · 3 years

Note

I see you say you're taking prompts and I instantly kick down your door. I'd write this myself if I was at home rn but. Venti starting to come down with a cold but going out drinking anyways but the strong scent of the alcohol keeps making him sneeze whenever he tries to drink and people are starting to Worry

Hi anon!! First, sorry for the delay!!! Second, thank you for the prompt (which I have interpreted to take place during Windblume festival, just because. <33) I’ve run around with Venti so much recently that I feel like it’s about time that I write something for him ;w; Hope you enjoy!

—

In hindsight, all the signs were there.

Venti wakes up with the sort of deep, unshakeable exhaustion he hasn’t felt in years—strictly speaking, archons don’t need sleep, so he finds he’s rarely this tired. He catches himself almost nodding off after a conversation with Amber and has to pinch himself awake; when afternoon rolls around, he takes an indulgent nap at Windrise, only to somehow wake up twice as tired as before.

He feels restless, if anything, and it’s too cold outside for his liking, so he heads to the Angel’s Share. Kaeya still owes him a drink as payment for the lessons in poetry—besides, he’s sure the alcohol will warm him up.

It’s one of those days when the tavern is crammed full of customers. When he pushes open the door, he spends a good few seconds trying to find somewhere to sit, until Kaeya—who is predictably present—waves him over.

“Why, if it isn’t Mondstadt’s greatest bard.”

“I seem to recall you owing me one last drink to cover your tuition fee,” Venti tells him.

Kaeya laughs. “I was hoping you’d have forgotten.”

“Haha! I assure you, my memory is excellent when it comes to wine.”

Next to Kaeya is Jean, the Acting Grand-Master, which is unexpected—Venti has always seen her as someone too respectable to drink—but closer inspection tells him that she’s nursing a cup of Windblume Apple Cider, which makes marginally more sense. Then, behind the bar, is Diluc.

“It’s quite the occasion, isn’t it?” Venti says, taking a seat next to Kaeya, though something about a sudden change in temperature in the tavern makes him shiver. “Even Master Diluc is here tonight.”

Jean nods. “He wanted Charles to take the day off so he could properly celebrate.”

“It’s nothing like that. I just happened to be free,” Diluc denies—though, Venti knows that Diluc’s schedule is much less rigid than the Knights’—he gets the sense that Diluc is only here when he actually wants to be here.

“Quite the gentleman, isn’t he?” Kaeya says, giving Diluc a significant look, which Diluc pointedly ignores. “So, what do I owe you? A Windblume-exclusive Apple Cider?”

Venti suppresses another shiver. Really, the tavern feels unusually chilly. Perhaps it’s been set like this in expectation for the abundance of customers—he supposes they’d be less enthusiastic about drinking for hours in a tavern that’s stiflingly warm—but isn’t this overdoing it a bit?

“Actually, I think I’m in the mood for Dandelion Wine,” he says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out uncharacteristically scratchy. “It’ll save you a couple hundred mora.”

Kaeya nods. “Another order of Dandelion Wine, then?”

Venti leans forward on his stool, propping his arms up on the countertop, and listens as Kaeya and Jean discuss the most efficient way for the Knights to investigate some strange movements from the Fatui agents lately. They’re both excellent strategists, though where Jean is reserved, well-acquainted with the terrain and its shortcuts, Kaeya is reckless, pushing for efficiency over certainty. Diluc is listening too, even though he doesn’t offer any interjections.

It’s an enjoyable conversation to sit in on, but Venti really wishes it weren’t so cold here. His nose is running, and there’s a tickle in his nose, so sharp and so pressing that he has to—

“hiih’NKTch-uu!” He sniffles, wiping his nose absently on one wrist.

“Bless you,” Kaeya says offhandedly, then resumes speaking.

It’s only a few seconds later that he finds his breath hitching again. Such a sustained reaction must be—

“hiih… hiiIH’KScHuu!”

—the result of something he’s well acquainted with. This time, it’s Jean that blesses him.

“Ugh, Master Diluc,” Venti laments. “Since when have you allowed cats in the tavern?”

Diluc raises an eyebrow. “I don’t. Has someone brought a cat in?”

“I didn’t see one. But something here seems to be setting off… my.... hiih!!” His nose is actually running now, and he shivers—a lost sneeze is much less unsatisfying than one seen to conclusion. “...my allergies, snf-!”

“Are you sure you want to order wine?” Jean says. “It’s a histamine, so I’m afraid it might make you feel worse, if you’re allergic.”

“It’s no big deal, hehe, just… annoying… hahh… hAHH…” Venti raises a hand to his face, his eyes snapping shut— “hAH’KTCHh-yuu!”

“Bless you,” Jean and Kaeya say simultaneously.

“snf…! Thanks, I’m not sure what’s gotten into me.” Somehow, the next breath he takes in comes in all wrong, and before he knows it he’s muffling coughs into the same hand—harsher, perhaps, than the situation justifies.

“Are you feeling alright?” Jean asks.

Venti smiles, trying for reassuring. “Don’t worry about me! I’m as well as always, snf! Perhaps someone came in with their shirt covered in cat hairs…”

“Or it could be a cold,” Kaeya offers, with a shrug. “Your face is a little red.”

“It is?” Venti asks, though he doesn’t consider the possibility seriously. “I hope it’s flattering.”

Diluc hands him his Dandelion Wine, which Venti takes from him gratefully. On days like this, he’s glad Diluc knows his identity as Barbatos—evenings like this are much more pleasant when the town’s bartenders are willing to indulge him. The burn of the alcohol is pleasant as he sips, but strangely…

...it’s not enough.

Everything’s too cold, still—frigid in a way he feels shivery and tired, even though he thinks he might actually be sweating. He takes another long sip—half out of desperation—and finds that his throat is sore.

“...Venti?”

Before he knows it, Jean is leaning forward to press the back of her hand to his forehead. Jean has always been gentle, and Venti almost protests as she lowers her hand.

“I think you have a fever,” she says.

That can’t be right, can it? “You must be mistaken. I don’t get... hiIh… hiiIH’K-sShu!... sick, snf-!”

Kaeya sighs. “You sound just like Diluc. Really, maybe hot apple cider would’ve been a better choice.”

“No,” Venti insists, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant. I... can’t get sick.” He rubs his nose, sniffling into the back of one hand. Diluc passes him a generous stack of napkins. “I’m not supposed to be able to.”

Jean seems to catch on. “Because of your godhood?” Kaeya doesn’t seem surprised at her statement, which implies that Jean has probably told him already.

“I think so. I can’t remember the last time I’ve caught something, and it hasn’t… haHH… snf! It hasn’t ever been something I’ve had to worry about… hIIIh…” Suddenly he’s scrambling for another napkin from the stack, barely managing to unfold it before he’s holding it shakily up to his face. “hiIIHK’SCHhhew! snf-! Ugh, excuse me...”

His head protests. He blinks, his vision swimming, and shuts his eyes.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” Kaeya says, sounding so genuine that Venti finds himself faintly surprised. He doesn’t realize Diluc’s taken his coat off until he feels the weight of it around his shoulders.

Perhaps it’s because his gnosis isn’t with him, he realizes, with a jolt. He’s always kept it on him—more inseparable, less tangible than his Vision is, but now that it’s in the hands of the eighth of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, maybe it means that some of the perks of godhood are gone with it, too.

“I guess so,” he admits. The tickle in his nose is back—not as incessant as it is when he’s petting a cat, but it’s there nonetheless, present and vicious enough to make him shiver in anticipation as his breath snags on an inhale. “hiiH… hiIIH... hIIHKTChh’yuu!” His shoulders shutter forward with the release, forceful enough to jostle the cups on the countertop.

“Bless—”

“HIiih…. IKKSSch’uu!”

“—you.” From Diluc, this time.

Venti blows his nose softly into the napkin and reaches for another. Will this never end? How long are colds supposed to last? Allergies, while annoying, are tolerable enough accompanied by the knowledge that a shower will get rid of them—he’s not looking forward to feeling like this for a week.

“...I have to admit,” he concedes, “I’m quite lost when it comes to dealing with things like this.”

“It’s alright. That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?” Jean says softly, setting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay! I don’t need...”

“You should get some rest,” Diluc adds. “Keep the jacket until you’re feeling well again.”

Venti coughs. “I didn’t mean...”

Their concern is a bit embarrassing, really—as often as he fraternizes with the citizens of Mondstadt, isn’t he supposed to be the one looking after them?—but it’s strangely comforting to have the three of them fuss over him, still.

“Why don’t I order something that will actually make you feel better, instead of worse?” Kaeya suggests.

Between today and the last time they’ve been here, Kaeya has already bought him the three drinks he’s owed. Venti sniffles lightly, adjusting Diluc’s jacket around his shoulders to keep it from slipping off. “You’ve already repaid my lessons in full, so it would be unfair of me to—”

“Consider it a tip.” Kaeya raises his own glass, smirking. “To Mondstadt’s greatest romantic advisor.”

Jean clinks her glass with his. It’s sweeter than he’s used to. Despite himself, Venti smiles.

#gen/sh/in im/pac/t #ask #(edits after posting like an idiot...)#snz kink #snz fic #snzfic

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superanimeidiot · 3 years

Text

Karma decks Gakuhou (or: the moment we’ve all been waiting for)

Haha, yeah, you know that time Gakuhou hit Gakushuu and sent him flying into a wall?

Yeah, Karma kinda has a problem with that.

TW: discussion of child abuse. Not super graphic, but be aware.

As a kid, Karma always thought he would be the one to first know the feelings of his father’s hands against his face. He’d longed for it, almost - that sign his father cared about him enough to get angry, to be angry enough to hit him. He’s constructed the entire scene in his head and played it on a loop: Karma, saying the wrong thing or moving the wrong way as he always seemed to do in his father’s presence; Gakuhou, frustrated and empty of patience; the sight of his father’s hand rising in the air; the helpless knowledge of what was to come; the numb acceptance of the blow; and, finally, the loud smack! and sting of flesh. Karma knows this fantasy like he knows the scars on his hands. Gakuhou never needed force to hurt him, though; his words and the ever-present look of distant disapproval was more than enough to leave lasting, if not physical, scars.

Still, if his father ever was to hit one of his children, Karma would have bet on himself. The idea of his father hitting Gakushuu - his precious, perfect golden child who mastered every lesson taught with haughty ease - has never even crossed his mind. Until today.

Karma stares at the bruise blooming ugly across Gakushuu’s cheek. He thinks he knows what it’s from and who caused it, but he doesn’t know. Gakushuu is staring right back, eyes hard as steel, and he wonders if this is how Gakushuu felt when Karma was showing up to class bruised and angry.

“Was it him?” he asks, and he doesn’t need to clarify who him is; they both know who he’s referring to.

“Yeah,” Gakushuu says. “Guess he finally got tired of using his words.” He smiles too, like this is funny. Like this whole situation - like the purple and green mark on his face - is one big, funny, ha-ha, hold-your-sides-until-you’re-crying joke. Karma wants to strangle him.

No, actually, he wants to strangle Gakuhou. Karma turns on his heel and moves to do just that, but Gakushuu grabs his wrist and drags him back.

“Stop,” he says, exasperated, as though talking to a child. “I’m fine. I’ve taken harder hits when sparring.”

“You think that makes it better?” he asks, incredulous as he tries to free himself from his brother’s iron grasp. “You know the difference between being hit while sparring and being hit by your father? One of them is illegal.”

Gakushuu frowns. Karma, sensing the waver in his brother’s certainty, takes full advantage. He twists his wrist away and breaks the hold, but immediately seizes Gakushuu’s own wrist, holding him still and demanding his attention.

“Gakushuu,” he says. He taps a gentle finger against the bruise marring his stupid, perfect face. “This is not okay.”

Gakushuu breathes - a long, slow inhale he holds for a few seconds then releases in a gusty sigh. “I know.”

Karma chews at his lip, hesitating, before asking, “Has he ever-”

“No,” Gakushuu denies, quick and firm and leaving no room for argument. “He’s never done this before.”

“You’d tell me?” Karma presses. “If he has, or if he does again?”

“Yes.”

“Promise me,” he demands.

“Who’s the older brother here again?”

“Promise me.”

“Okay, okay,” Gakushuu relents, cracking a tiny grin that looks more real than any of the smiles he pastes on for his lackeys. “I promise I’ll tell you if he hits me again.”

Karma, solemn as a funeral, holds up a single pinkie.

Gakushuu eyes it. “Seriously?”

He nods.

Gakushuu sighs again. Rolling his eyes, he wraps his pinkie around Karma’s. “I promise,” he repeats.

Karma releases his pinkie, mollified for the moment. “Okay,” he says, then abruptly changes the subject. “So I was planning on making you buy me ice cream since, you know, I scored the highest on finals.” He flashes a smug grin at his brother’s groan. “But now I feel bad for you, so I guess I’ll buy you ice cream. I am the kindest, most loving and adorable little brother in the world, after all,” he preens.

Gakushuu stares at him. “You’re insane,” he says flatly. “You have so many screws loose, I’m surprised your head is still attached.”

Karma squawks indignantly, poking his brothers harshly in the ribs while crying mean! mean! while Gakushuu tries to fend him off. The tense atmosphere has faded, for now, and they’re both happy to see it go.

The conversation isn’t entirely finished, though. Later, Karma will probe into what life was like with just Gakuhou as a parent, and Gakushuu will ask pointed questions about the origin of the injuries Karma would always show up to class with and brush off. They will both get angry, they will both shout, and they will both part ways frustrated and hurt and so, so scared. Even later than that, though, they will both apologize (with a hug) and all will be forgiven, but not entirely forgotten.

They both learned a long time ago to always look after each other, even when no one else would, and those instincts, while rusty from misuse, still hold as strong as when they were little boys whispering promises through the sound of their parents screaming.

****

Later, Karma knocks on the front door of his childhood home. He hasn’t been there since he was eight years old, and maybe if he could feel anything other than the ice cold rage flowing through his veins he would be afraid or lost in the melancholy of past memories, but he can’t and he’s not. He pounds on the door again.

He expects a maid to answer the door, but when it opens he’s greeted with the sight of his father, barefoot and dressed casually, blinking at him in surprise.

“Karma?” he says. Maybe he was going to say something else too, but that’s all he gets out before Karma punches him in the face.

Karma has had a lot of practice hitting people. He’s good at it. He knows how far to pull his arm back, how to keep his wrist locked against impact, how to twist his hips for more power, and how to pour his whole body into a punch that leaves his target breathless (or, once, unconscious). He was good at it when he was fighting thugs on the street, and he got even better when Karasuma drilled proper martial arts concepts like form and technique into his head. Karma is naturally strong, and a year of hardcore physical training only added to that strength.

The point of this being: when Karma slams his fist against his father’s face, Gakuhou, unprepared for such an attack and faced with a trained, rage-fuelled combat assassin, goes down like a sack of rocks.

Karma doesn’t follow him. He stays standing in the doorway, chest heaving with barely-contained fury. His father pulls himself up so he’s sitting rather than sprawling across the floor, staring up at Karma with wide eyes as though he’s never seen him before. He hasn’t, really - not like this, anyway. In his father’s presence, Karma had molded himself into the perfect child; he was quiet, and sweet, and well-behaved. He said please, thank you, excuse me, I’m sorry. He was everything he thought his father wanted, but it didn’t matter because it still was never enough.

Karma hasn’t been that kid in a long time.

“That,” he says, flexing his hand and ignoring the sting of split knuckles, “was for Gakushuu. Maybe he won’t punch you back for your crap, but I will.” He crouches down, then, so he can stare his father right in the eyes. “This is your only warning. If you ever, ever, lay a hand on him again…” He flicks his wrist, and his switch-blade makes a brief, grim appearance before disappearing up his sleeve again. He looks directly into his father’s eyes, and he lets him see the resolve burning in his own. “I swear to God, it’ll be the last thing you do.”

Gakuhou nods, both an acknowledgement and acceptance. Karma smiles the cold, satisfied smile of an assassin and stands, knocking his knuckles against the door-frame as he leaves.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks off down the street, whistling merrily to himself. Gakushuu will probably be mad at him later - if he finds out, of course - but Karma refuses to regret his actions. No one, not even their father, is allowed to lay a hand on Gakushuu and get away with it. That is Karma’s promise, made to himself and sealed with his father’s blood spilled in retribution.

He’ll keep it until the day he dies.

#assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #akabane karma #asano gakushuu #fanfiction #fanfic #au #brothers au #families shatter like glass series #tw: child abuse #child abuse #i finally let karma punch gakuhou #as a treat

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heraldofzaun · 3 years

Note

what are your thoughts on viktor and being neurodivergent? though like, obligatory disclaimer that if riot ever did come out and say that "hey! viktor is canonically [something]" that would be catastrophic but i think it is a little bit of fun for consideration

Oh! Well I like to think he's autistic, which is partially because I am too. (Of course in canon it would be catastrophic because haha, oh man, look at how they've treated Blitzcrank's biographies ever since they gave him an updated one. There's some coding in there, alright, and I am... not a fan...)

I’ve posted a lot of long posts recently (this is no exception) and this is also on a kind of tricky subject, so I’m readmore’ing it.

So anyways, while I have to admit that some of the reason why (my) Viktor is autistic is because I am - I think that you can make a general semi-convincing argument. Or I'm so wrapped up in my own interpretations that I can, at the least. Anyways, from here on out when I say Viktor I mean my personal take. Your mileage may vary on applying this to other interpretations.

(Also, thoughts on new lore Jayce's being kind of coded to be like, a stereotypical autistic dude? (If you have any I mean.) I don't like that Riot is doing it, of course, but I've seen a few good rehabilitative takes on it in fandom. @hamartio's Jayce springs to mind, because their Jayce has been developed over the years and also written by someone who like. Cares. Anyways, I have my own personal Jayce ideas that rely on his old lore so he's not really an asshole there, at least in those regards, so I don't really have many thoughts on new Jayce. I think new Viktor is... pretty coded as well, but it’s also insanely stereotypical. The whole “always working, always wants certainty, gets into automation not because he (primarily) wants to help those injured by catastrophes in Zaun but because the catastrophes interrupt his work” thing makes me uncomfortable. Maybe I’ll write sometime on why the rewrite of his lore fails, in my opinion, to hit upon the same themes of his first - would that be of interest to folks? Anyways, this parenthetical is too long.)

I think that autistic Viktor is cool and makes sense, somewhat because of the fact that the ways he goes about solving his problems are, er, unorthodox. (Of course I am not saying that the GE is because he’s autistic, because that’s stupid. This is why I’m kind of squirrely about talking so openly about what I think Viktor’s got going on, and why I don’t really trust if a non-autistic person headcanons him as autistic. There’s a lot of room for that headcanon to just reinforce the “autistic people are supergeniuses with no emotions that work based off of Facts and Logic” trope, and I hate that.) Since a lot of autism is about feeling adrift from/at odds with neurotypical society, I think that Viktor’s general solutions and also his idealistic leanings in the face of everything Zaun is tracks for that. Roboticization makes sense as a way to stop suffering and death, because it’s more achievable than individual feats of immortality through magic or whatever. Viktor doesn’t really get why people would be so opposed to it - he’s made it clear that while he dislikes his own emotions and wants them gone, he doesn’t expect others to cast off theirs. (Maybe he expected that when he was in the thick of his emotional pain, mostly because he couldn’t imagine others choosing differently than he at the time, but not in the current day.)

Of course, externally, when the scary cyborg man who admits to cutting off his own limbs says “no, being a robot is cool, you can keep your emotions even”, any Zaunite (or any person) is going to interpret that as “he is definitely lying”. Viktor doesn’t quite make that leap. (I have thoughts on the whole Theory of Mind concept and I don’t mean to say that Viktor can’t empathize - he does, and does too much - with others, but I think that in this instance he just can’t quite understand sometimes why people don’t believe him.) He also doesn’t quite get why people would be so attached to the bodies that they’re currently in, especially if he can make a mechanical replica. Or why people might want to die and pass into non-existence after a life well lived. (To him, personally, there’s always more to do. Also he’s terrified of death but that’s another topic.)

I also think that Viktor’s empathy is of the hyper- rather than hypo- kind, partially because I feel like outside of self-advocacy groups the mere concept of autistic hyperempathy is seen as like... impossible? It’s also because he generally seems to be kind of an emotional guy in canon before Stanwick, what with the lore saying that “almost no trace of the original man remained” in reference to Viktor reemerging as someone without emotions. That, combined with the fact that he was described as having a “hope to better society” before everything went down, kind of makes me believe that he was a naive idealist type. (Again, not that autism makes you naive, but...) But yes, hyperempathy. Hence "no pain, no wars, no suffering, no death” being part of his ideology for the Glorious Evolution. He gets pretty ripped up about people being hurt, and it’s really only gotten worse over the years as he’s grasped the full scope of pain in the world.

Personally, I write pre-Stanwick-incident Viktor as someone who is still somewhat awkward with expressing emotion, but it’s not due to him not having them. It’s due to the fact that the ways in which he naturally expressed them and in which he interacted with the world were just... seen as odd/different/etc. (I don’t think Runeterra has an autism diagnosis or particularly excellent psychology, even in Piltover and Zaun, so he just gets the “you’re a weird dude” treatment for his entire life.) Stimming or smiling a certain way or talking a lot about his interests or, you know, the general autistic existence is weird to most people around him, as it unfortunately is in real life. So he’s more reserved until you actually know him, because he’s just masking all the time. (Fun fact about my Viktor: he’s pretty expressive under that actual mask of his. It helps to not have to micromanage expressions all the time when he isn’t experiencing a bout of flat affect due to [gestures vaguely at everything else going on with his mental state], although he sometimes feels poorly about not being able to manage himself. But that’s his issues, and I think it’s good for him to show emotion.)

Side note - Stanwick was able to do such a number on Viktor due to: a) Stanwick being very charismatic and manipulative, on top of being an actually smart man and scientist - he’s really a great example of a “good Zaunite”, in the sense of being good at being what the culture rewards, b) Viktor actively dealing with the death of his parents and Stanwick being an older adult who’d treated him kindly and had never seemed put-off by Viktor’s oddities, and c) Viktor not realizing that he’d get backstabbed, because yes he knows that that happens in academia but Stanwick’s nice. Whether or not the outcomes would have been the same if Viktor were more competent at being “a good Zaunite”... well, probably not. Viktor ended up where he did because of who he is.

(Secondary side note: Viktor has a very strong and very black-and-white sense of what’s right and wrong, as well as general black-and-white thinking. You can see how that would have... not helped in the situations he was put through.)

This is getting kind of rambling, but I guess the point of this is that Viktor’s wanting to remove his emotions may be cloaked in the language of them being “inefficient” or “unhelpful”, which would feed into autistic stereotypes, but it’s really more of a matter of them being too painful and raw for him to process. He feels too much and hurts too much, and no amount of positive emotions in the world will (in his mind) make up for the pain he’s felt and will feel. So it’s better to not feel anything at all, isn’t it? At least then you aren’t overwhelmed by it all.

Viktor just hasn’t fit in with Zaun for all his life, really. Not as an odd child who can tell you all about science-fiction and techmaturgy, not as an odd and reserved teenager/young adult, not as a bright young doctoral student still dealing with grief but trying to make the best of it, and... not as the Machine Herald. But now he’s given up on trying to fit in, for better or for worse.

(Other miscellaneous and less serious autistic thoughts on him: generally a pretty fixed diet, partially due to being autistic but also due to what’s easily available in Zaun + what agrees with his stomach. A fan of weight and pressure - I like to think that the reason his outfit is like that is that he finds it comforting, and also that he has a weighted blanket or two around. Special interests of general techmaturgy, robotics, and science-fiction. He can talk for hours about any of those, and has. Both his parents were mildly spectrum-y, his mother a little bit moreso, so they just kinda assumed that him being him was out-of-the-ordinary and a bit strange but not something “horribly wrong”. Oh! And his third arm, which is under a little less conscious control than the rest of him, still stims sometimes when he’s working or otherwise not paying attention to it.)

This was very long and jumped around a lot, because I find it hard to give a convincing paragraph-by-paragraph argument about exactly why I think that Viktor is autistic, or rather why I headcanon him as such. But hopefully it was interesting! I just have a lot of thoughts on him, as well as the general state of autistic-coded or perceived-as-autistic-by-individuals (both allistic and autistic) characters in media and so it’s very hard to do anything concise without branching out into discussing other topics.

#anonymous #headcanons | beneath the mask #//preemptive remark that these are my own thoughts on autism which are filtered through the lens of my life experiences #//as well as that of some aspects (emphasis on some) of academic research. baron-cohen can choke with his theories #//also i did not explain some terms here under the assumption that those reading would probably already know them. feel free to ask if not!

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svgurl410 · 3 years

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Can't help it I want to send you another one - Clark/Oliver for #8 Roommates (oh my god they were Roommates 😏) Also dealer's choice but I would not complain if Lois found her way in this too lol 👀

Haha send as many as you want! As long as you're willing to accept that I can be a very slow writer. XD Also, by found her way into this, you mean took over, right? Because that's definitely what happened.

Send me a ship and a number

clark/lois/oliver. ~2.5 k. Same age/college AU- they're all graduating soon and Clark's afraid of losing the two people he loves the most.

“Smallville, you are an angel.”

“You probably say that to anyone who gives you caffeine, so I won’t let the praise go to my head,” Clark said, dryly, moving to give Oliver his own cup of coffee, before settling down on the couch, with his own mug.

“Nah,” Oliver drawled from his spot on the armchair, his laptop on his thighs, as he shifted forward, to pick up the cup. “I think angel is a good description.”

Clark rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny that the words still resided deep in his heart.

“Besides, normal people don’t make coffee like this,” Lois pointed out.

“Considering how much you’ve had today, can you even tell the difference at this point?” Clark challenged, looking pointedly at the clock, which declared it almost 1 am. “Sleep is probably better for you than another cup.”

“Please, don’t insult me- I am an expert in all things coffee,” Lois proclaimed, from the other end of the couch, as she shifted her sock covered feet to rest in Clark’s lap. He was all too used to her antics at this point, and just let them linger. Besides, he couldn’t deny how much he liked her open affection. Both her’s and Oliver’s really. “Anyway, I’m almost done with this paper and then I can call it a night. Two more finals and we’re done for good.”

Oliver repeated the sentiment with obvious enthusiasm, neither noticing how much work it took for Clark’s face not to fall.

Two more finals … and they were done.

Clark should be excited. He was graduating from college, with a degree in journalism, ready to stop studying and start a career that he was passionate about.

But as he looked between Lois and Oliver, as they all resided in Clark and Oliver’s apartment (and Lois was there so often she was practically their third roommate), preparing for finals week, all he could feel was dread.

Dread, because the sooner they were done, the sooner he would lose them.

Two of the most important people in his life, the ones he was so used to seeing on a daily basis … who also happened to be the two people he was desperately, hopelessly in love with … they would just be gone.

Sure, Lois and he were both planning on journalism as a career, but the field was so competitive that the chances they landed in the same state, much less the same city or paper were slim. As far as Oliver went, he would move back to Star City, where he would take over as the CEO he was destined to be.

Clark would be lying if he said he hadn’t looked up jobs at the Star City Gazette, but just because they would be in the same city didn’t mean that they would see one another.

It wouldn’t be the same at all. And Clark, who had always struggled with change, found he wasn’t ready for this one.

These thoughts had been plaguing him, especially the past few weeks, no matter how hard he tried not to think about it. He could too easily picture how their lives would unfold post graduation. Maybe they would see each other now and then but growing apart was almost a certainty. Soon, communication would slow down, as they fell into their own lives and they would see each other at a reunion or maybe he would get invited to one or both of their weddings (perhaps to each other- he had felt the chemistry and was still truly surprised they never dated).

One day, he would just be ‘their old friend from college, Clark’, and the idea made him sick.

But it seemed that he wouldn’t have a choice. He didn’t know how to stop the changes he knew were coming.

Fingers snapped in front of his face, and brought him out of his gloomy thoughts.

“Smallville!” Lois said, and he looked over to meet her frowning face. “Are you listening?”

“No,” he admitted. “Sorry, I got caught up in my thoughts. What were you saying?”

“We were saying that we should have a big celebration, when we’re done,” Oliver answered, expression unreadable as his gaze was focused on Clark.

“Think we can get Clark over to a club?” Lois asked, with a cheeky smile.

Clark grimaced, causing them both to laugh.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Lois finished.

“I mean, I guess we could try-” Clark started, thinking back to Lois’s 21st birthday the previous year. That place hadn’t been that bad.

“Nah,” Lois said, waving her hand. “I was joking. We’ll find something for the three of us. One thing is for certain- this summer, we are doing that road trip!”

“Can’t I just fly us to wherever you want to go?” Oliver asked, wrinkling his nose, and setting his laptop down on the coffee table.

“Silence, rich boy, this is about the journey, not the destination,” Lois declared, causing Clark to let out a small chuckle.

“The journey to see the World’s Biggest Coffee Cup?” Oliver said skeptically, but Clark could see the twinkle in his eye and knew he was just messing around.

Lois knew it too, from her expression. “That’s part of it!”

“I’m putting my foot down at renting an RV,” Oliver warned. “And I don’t care what you say - I am paying for a hotel. We are not sleeping at the nearest, cheapest roadside dump you find.”

“You are going to have to get over what happened in Austin eventually,” Lois complained.

“I saw things that I will never forget,” Oliver said darkly.

“Spoiled.”

“Guilty.”

“Now, now, children, play nice,” Clark teased, head moving back to rest against the couch.

“This is not the time to be the rational one, Clark,” Oliver insisted. “You know I’m right. You don’t want to be sharing a room with the cockroaches any more than I do.”

“They aren’t very considerate roommates and they refuse to even chip in for the bill,” Clark acknowledged, causing Lois to pout. “But that doesn’t mean you can book us all the Ritz, Oliver. We’ll find something reasonable.”

“Fine, fine, have it your way,” Oliver said fondly.

“It could be fun though,” Clark said, smiling wistfully. “One last trip.”

“Yeah, and then we’re off to work,” Lois agreed. “I’ve been looking up jobs- both the Star City Gazette and the Sentinel have multiple openings, and I talked to someone in HR there, and they are expected to have at least two more in the upcoming months. What do you think, Clark?”

“Me?” Clark asked, eyebrows furrowing, confused. “Of what?”

“Of Star City,” Lois replied. “Unless you want to be back in Metropolis, so you can be closer to home. The Daily Planet doesn’t seem to have any openings right now though, and well, Ollie is obligated to be in Star City for the time being, but who knows in the future, right?”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, I am going to be traveling a lot anyway and for the first few years I have to be in Star City, but Metropolis could eventually be an option. Besides, if you both end up in Star City, you can just stay with me.”

Clark tried to keep up with the conversation, but it felt like he was lagging behind and wasn’t sure how to make headway.

Lois swung her feet off his lap and he missed the touch immediately. She let out a long yawn, rubbing her eyes. “Oh, it is way too late to be talking about this, but we do need to start planning our future soon.”

“Our future,” Clark echoed, dazed. “As in the three of us.”

“Obviously,” Lois said, standing up and stretching. “What, did you think we’re just going to go our separate ways after graduation?”

“Yes.”

The answer was out before he could think about it, and Lois stopped in her movements, turning to him, eyes wide and mouth turned downward. As he looked over at Oliver, he saw his friend looked surprised and hurt.

“Do you … want to go our separate ways after graduation?” Oliver asked, tone uncharacteristically cautious, and expression blank once more. Clark found he really hated that look, the one where he couldn’t immediately understand what Oliver was thinking and feeling.

“I thought that was what you guys would want,” Clark explained hurriedly.

“But all we’ve done is talk about ‘we’ and ‘us’ in the past when we were talking about our next move,” Lois pointed out, sitting down again, this time right next to him.

Sure, but he didn’t think they meant it. Didn’t think they had included him in their plans. Why would they? Clark wasn’t the one who was considered; he was the one people tended to leave behind.

“We’re not leaving you behind, Clark,” Oliver said tightly, and that was when he realized he had said that out loud. His face turned red, cheeks feeling hot, and he dropped his face, eyes focused on his feet, which shuffled awkwardly against the wooden floors, brushing against the rug under the coffee table.

His throat was tight, and he couldn’t form the words if he wanted to.

“Clark.” There was Lois, her arm on his shoulder, and he leaned into her touch. “How could we ever leave you behind? Did you really believe we don’t care about you at all?”

“I guess I didn’t think about it,” Clark muttered, finding his voice.

Lois lightly punched him in the shoulder. “You made two big mistakes, Smallville: you fed us and took us home with you to meet your parents. You’re stuck with us now. Deal with it.”

“Really?” He couldn’t stand how insecure he sounded, but couldn’t help it.

Oliver got up and sat down on the arm of the sofa, leaning against Clark for stability.

“Obviously,” Oliver said firmly. “And while we’re on the topic, we’re not talking platonic bonds here either, just so we’re clear. I’m crazy about you. Lois is too. Getting rid of us now is basically impossible. You’re going to have to change your name and go into hiding or something.”

“You never said anything,” Clark murmured.

“Well, there was no right time to ask, ‘hey, Clark, what are your thoughts on a polyamorous relationship’?” Lois said, one side of her mouth lifting up. “We have a good idea that you felt the same, but we didn’t want to risk losing you. Figured it could come up on the road trip.”

“And you both have talked about this?” Clark asked, looking between them, wondering how much they had decided.

“Only once,” Oliver assured him. “Just to confirm that we were on the same page. You’re harder to read than you think.”

“So, are we?” Lois asked hopefully. “On the same page?”

How could he say anything but yes? The idea that he could get everything he wanted, everything he thought he never could have was still a little mind boggling, but he wasn’t dumb enough to miss the gift that was basically being handed to him.

“Yeah, I mean, I care about … both of you,” he admitted. “I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

“Oh, there are some strong feelings there,” Lois promised. “And if neither of you mind, I would really like to kiss Clark. Do you know how distracting that mouth has been? It’s not even fair.”

Oliver let out a loud laugh and Clark could only watch Lois as she came closer, and he didn’t stop her as she kissed him, and he returned the kiss with equal passion, and when they parted a few moments later, he was grinning, the taste of Lois’s mouth one he never wanted to do without again.

“How was it?” Oliver asked, leaning forward.

Lois licked her lips. “Amazing. You should try it.”

Clark turned his head toward Oliver and Oliver watched him, hand lifting up to caress Clark’s cheek.

“Can I?” he asked quietly, warm brown eyes searching Clark’s own.

Clark stared at his friend and roommate, thinking of how far they had come over the years, and all the not quite friendly fantasies he had been having about him almost as long, and how he wanted more than anything for Oliver to kiss him. Had wanted that, and more for ages.

So he didn’t reply, instead surging forward to meet Oliver halfway and as their lips connected, Clark felt at home. He could hear Lois whistle and he smiled into the kiss. Oliver was just as good a kisser as Lois, and Clark wrapped a hand around Ollie’s neck, tugging him closer and Oliver fell right onto Clark’s lap, the two of them resting their foreheads against each other even when they separated.

“Now that is a show I wouldn’t mind seeing more of,” Lois chipped in.

Catching his breath, he looked at Oliver and Lois. “Aren’t you two going to kiss?” he realized.

“Why? Do you want to watch, Smallville?” Lois asked, but her eyes were on Oliver. “Secret exhibition kink? Here I thought you were a boy scout.”

“Not so much,” Clark retorted. “And something tells me you don’t mind putting on your own show.”

“Plus, his hand is currently on my ass, so I’m guessing not a boyscout,” Oliver remarked.

“Problem?” Clark countered, letting his hand stay where it was, and Oliver shook his head.

“Not a single one.”

“And who can blame him,” Lois offered. “So, what do you say, Ollie?”

Clark held his breath as Lois and Oliver leaned in and shared a long, deep kiss. He had never been a big fan of PDA, uncomfortable with public displays, but this? This was definitely the exception. To say he wouldn’t mind seeing more was an understatement.

“Huh, why did we wait so long to do this?” Lois wondered afterwards.

“Clearly, we’re idiots,” Oliver responded instantly.

“Have you two really never kissed before?” Clark asked, not feeling resentful or jealous, just genuinely curious and surprised; it was amazing what requited feelings could do. “But I thought you said you talked …”

“Only talked,” Oliver interrupted. “We were waiting for you.”

“Oh.”

“Finally get it now?” Lois asked, but she sounded kind. “We’re not letting you go.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

His heart filled with a mix of love and joy, gaze darting between the two of them, and he couldn’t imagine being happier. Lois rested her head on Clark’s shoulder, her hand coming up to entwine with Ollie’s, who seemed quite content sitting on Clark.

He loved them; somehow, they both loved him along with each other.

And he definitely got it.

Clark was suddenly very much looking forward to the future.

#clarkenting #answered asks #my fanfiction #clark x lois x oliver #clark/lois/oliver #clark kent #lois lane #oliver queen #smallville

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izaswritings · 3 years

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genshin fic: goodbyes in advance

Title: goodbyes in advance

Synopsis: The evening before the end, Zhongli and Childe have one last dinner together. (Zhongli/Childe | Chili, 2.6k, gen.)

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Note: This fic was written and posted before the 1.1 update, so some aspects may be a bit outdated, especially concerning what Childe does-or-doesn’t know about Zhongli. That said, I hope you enjoy it anyway!

AO3 Link is here!

It is a shame, Zhongli finds himself thinking as the food comes to his table, that Ningguang has summoned the Traveler so soon. His friend is gone, albeit reluctantly, and Zhongli holds no ill-will to the interruption: but there is food now at his table, and no one to eat it with.

It is a fine spread of food, too—truly, this place comes well-recommended. Zhongli taps his finger on the table, thoughtful, trying to think of a solution. A memory strikes him; he tilts his head, thoughtful, and then turns to the street.

“Childe,” he says, raising his voice just a little bit. It is hard to see the other man, but he is there, somewhere in the shadows. He has been there, three paces back, for most of the day, sneaking close by for almost as long as Zhongli and the Traveler have been running about the city. “How fortunate. I don’t suppose you’ve eaten yet?”

There is a silence, weighted. In the deep shadows of Childe’s hiding spot he is almost invisible, expression unreadable. Zhongli sits, patient, and meets Childe’s eyes without faltering. He waits.

After a long moment, Childe laughs. The sound is sudden and too abrupt, but Zhongli does not mind it. This is, he knows, simply how Childe is.

“Is this your way of inviting me to dinner, Zhongli?” Childe says, and at last steps out into the light. “You should have told me sooner! Or asked me out properly. I would have gotten dressed for the occasion.”

“There is no need for that,” Zhongli replies, simply. “This is not the tea house. There is no dress code that needs following.”

“Were you waiting for me?” Teasing, light; Zhongli pays no mind to the words, and instead watches as Childe sits beside him. Good: he has accepted the offer, and this food will not go to waste. Zhongli nods to himself.

“No,” he adds, belatedly, when he realizes Childe is waiting for an answer. What a strange question—but far be it for Zhongli to remark on another’s oddities, he supposes. “I had invited the Traveler out to a meal… but forces have conspired against us, it seems. For a moment I was worried I would have to eat alone. So it is good you are here.” He reaches for his chopsticks and then pauses at the look on Childe’s face. “Hmm. You look… have I said something strange?”

“No, no! Just… you are very blunt.” Childe laughs, though that doesn’t mean much. Childe is always laughing.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” Zhongli says. He takes some of the food, and takes a quick, neat bite; swallows, and adds: “You were watching us the whole day—surely you saw the Traveler leave just earlier?”

There is another silence, heavier now. Childe says, with that rare bite of coldness to his tongue: “Haha. So you noticed, huh?”

“Hm.” Zhongli tilts his head. “Was I not meant to?”

“…And you have no thoughts on it at all?” Childe sounds skeptical.

“Thoughts?” Zhongli echoes, and smiles a little. He has many thoughts on it. None are of import. Childe will one day bare his blades and seek to rip the gnosis from Zhongli’s chest, and this is a certainty as unchangeable as the tide Childe is bound to—nothing Zhongli thinks or says will bear weight against it. Childe is a name tied to a contract, and if there is one thing Zhongli understands, it is contracts.

He is not angry. He is saddened, perhaps, by the inevitability of it, but just as Zhongli’s words will not sway him, neither will Childe’s betrayal give Zhongli pause.

“I suppose,” Zhongli says, after some thought, “that I think I am lucky, for now you are here and we can eat together.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

Childe laughs, a little disbelieving. “You’re bizarre.”

“That’s rather rude,” Zhongli replies, and takes another bite of his food.

He waits. Slowly, Childe reaches for his own chopsticks. He takes some food. He eats.

Zhongli smiles.

“Mm, this is good stuff,” Childe says, after a moment, and reaches for another plate. “Ooh! What’s this?”

“Ah, wine-fermented sweet rice balls. I ordered them for the Traveler, but…” He shrugs.

Childe snickers. “Aw, that’s right. They can’t drink alcohol, huh?”

“I have been informed they are, quote, ‘seventeen and three quarters, which is close enough.’ Unquote.”

“And instead you order them wine-fermented rice balls. That’s hilarious.”

Zhongli shrugs again and takes a sweet rice ball for himself. For a moment they sit in silence. The night air is biting with a coastal chill, and a low fog has started to drift out from the docks; their only warmth comes from the flickering glow of the restaurant lamps. It is a wonderful night. The crowds are thinning and the murmur of voices has gone soft. Childe’s eyes wander the streets, never settling—he takes in everything, the sky, the lanterns, the buildings and the people, the flowers blooming bright and blue. Zhongli watches him, in turn, watches the way Childe looks at this city, the way his eyes skim over it.

“Tell me,” Zhongli says, abruptly, “what do you think of Liyue?” At Childe’s startled and somewhat wary look, he adds, “Hold back no expense. I am truly curious.”

“What, where did this come from? Didn’t you ask the Traveler this already?”

“I have indeed. Their response was honest and heartfelt.” At Childe’s raised eyebrow, he hums. “They are fond of Liyue but Mondstadt holds their true affections.”

“You don’t sound upset at all.”

“No. It is not unsurprising, in hindsight, for a traveler to be drawn to a land of freedom.” He laughs, quietly. “I confess, I suspected it would be so—but I could not resist asking them. I have a friend in Mondstadt, and I suppose I hoped for something to tease him with for once… but it is no matter. I know their thoughts—now I am curious as to yours.”

Childe actually takes a moment to think about it, and Zhongli is grateful for it. He studies Childe’s face again as he waits, and frowns in sudden realization. There is the barest hint of shadows beneath Childe’s eyes; and the lantern light barely seems to catch in his iris at all. In this moment of silence Childe looks almost tired.

But there is no time to react, nor for Zhongli to even start to consider what to do about it, because then Childe snaps his fingers, one hand framing his chin, and says, “Ah, well—I don’t dislike it.”

Zhongli considers this. “But you do not…”

“I don’t know it well enough to say, I suppose,” Childe remarks.

“You have been here a while, surely.”

“As long as you’ve known me. So, say… three weeks? A month? Give or take.” Childe shrugs at Zhongli’s raised eyebrow. “Hey, I know how it sounds. It’s just…” He pauses, a little. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been so focused on the job I forgot to take a look at the sights… haha. Pretty sure there’s a saying about that.”

Despite everything, Zhongli finds himself disappointed. “You are that eager to finish the job?” he says, quietly.

Childe looks, for once, actually uncomfortable. “I—it’s really more that I’m eager to go home.” He fumbles with his chopsticks, posture terrible as always, and says, almost under his breath, “Can’t even really look forward to the fight anymore. Ugh, such a chore.”

Zhongli pauses, considering that. It is… not what he had hoped for, admittedly, but all the same is more than he expected. It is a disheartening thought, to realize that for Childe, Liyue is little more than a means to an end—but at the same time, a touching notion, that despite everything something about Childe’s time here has soured the deed he must fulfill.

Zhongli is no fool; he knows it will change nothing in the end. Childe will strike for Zhongli’s heart and Zhongli has no mercy even for friends-turned-foes: he will strike back with the same deadly force. But it is… something. Something he takes and tucks away in his memory, to recall in brighter moments. That something here has stayed with Childe. That perhaps his time with Zhongli has not been meaningless.

“Sorry,” Childe is saying. “I can’t imagine that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“It is not,” Zhongli allows. He pauses. “But it is… thank you, Childe. For your honesty.”

“Honesty,” Childe echoes, and laughs, and then reaches for the food like his own reaction has startled him. Zhongli watches him, a little saddened. He will miss this. He will miss him. “Anyway, on a different note. I’ve been meaning to ask, why the spread?”

“Hm?” Zhongli blinks, taken out of his thoughts. “Ah. It is nothing grand, just… we have finished preparations for the rites. I thought to celebrate.”

Childe grins. “And then your friend was stolen.”

“Summoned,” Zhongli corrects, dryly. “It is no matter. They could not have foreseen it, and you are here, anyhow—I am not dining alone.”

“Company makes food taste better, or so I’ve heard it said.”

“It does seem to hold true.”

“Haha, is that so?”

“Mm.” He breathes in deep, taking in the atmosphere: the luring words of the storyteller, the star-dotted sky, the dark night and dim-lit lantern glow and the warm, spicy scent of their food. “It’s been some time,” Zhongli reflects, “since I have been able to do this.”

“What, eat?”

Haha. “Eat with a friend,” Zhongli corrects, amused. “It has been…” He makes the mistake of trying to think about it, and finds himself trailing off. For a moment there is an echo of a memory that he—that he had not intended to recall, and it quiets him.

“A while,” Zhongli says, at last, and he is no longer smiling. He closes his eyes.

“A while, huh?” But Childe has read the mood; his tone too is subdued. He is silent. Then he sighs, heavily, and leans back in his chair. “Well, I suppose we’re the same in that regard.”

Zhongli opens his eyes, curious and a little pleased. He is truly lucky this night. It is rare for Childe to offer anything about himself, let alone his true thoughts, and Zhongli takes a moment to treasure the honesty. “You, as well?”

“Ah, not with friends, per say, but…” For a moment Childe seems caught—torn between the secret and the lie and whatever truth he wants to say—and Zhongli sips at his drink to buy him time. The words finally come. “My—my family. Back home.”

Zhongli blinks. “Oh?”

Childe makes a face, but there is a twitch at his lips that might be a smile. Zhongli stares, fascinated—is it true? Is it genuine? It is unlike any expression he has seen from Childe before; it must be. “Mm. My dear, chaotic little siblings.” He snorts, and for a moment he seems… warm, in a true way. Zhongli puts down his cup. “I’d make them dinner every night and they’d try and thank me by burning down our house for dessert. I mean, nothing against Liyue, but sometimes the meals here just feel like they’re missing the chaos, you know?”

“You must miss them terribly,” Zhongli says, blankly, taking in the warmth on Childe’s face and the quiet fondness of his smile, the distant look in his eyes as he speaks of the family left behind—or held hostage?—and for a moment Childe’s smile flickers, startled, at the remark.

“…I do,” he says, after a long pause. “But it’s no matter. I’ll see them soon enough.”

Zhongli says nothing. It is a sweet sentiment, on its own. But the implication is unmistakable, and all it does is remind him. Once again, once more: Zhongli is out of time. After this night, events will begin to spiral out of motion. Soon, the charade will end—their weapons drawn—and one of them will not walk away. One of them is not going home.

Something of his thoughts must show in his face, or maybe it is that the mood has turned too somber for his liking, because Childe’s next words are cheery and bright, almost jarring after their previous topic of conversation. “Anyway, where were we? Dinner? Man, on second thought, how much was this? I suppose I’ll have to pay for us again.”

Crass though the subject change may be, Zhongli can play along. Besides, he’s actually rather proud of this. He straightens in his seat and holds out a hand. “No need,” he says, taking a deep breath against the previous thoughts. He digs in his pockets and after a moment he places his wallet down on the table, triumphant.

There is a long pause. “Gods,” Childe says, looking a little wide-eyed. “It exists.”

“It exists,” Zhongli agrees.

“You could sound a little more self-aware. Just a touch. A minute dash of shame.”

“I truly don’t intend to forget it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“In any case, I remembered it tonight.”

“A monumentus occasion.”

Zhongli laughs a little, unbothered by the ribbing. “It is indeed,” he says, and smiles at him. “So celebrate and eat your fill, my friend.”

Childe doesn’t answer right away; his eyes are on Zhongli’s face, and his expression is neutral. Zhongli blinks, his smile fading. Childe looks away.

“I think I will,” he says, thoughtful and loud and silencing whatever Zhongli plans to say, and the moment passes them by, too quick to catch.

The conversation tapers off after that, lulled to silence by the good food and the storyteller and the things the both of them cannot yet say aloud. In the silence, in the moment when Childe looks away and cannot see him, Zhongli closes his eyes and breathes out a quiet exhale. Is this truly how it ends? Is this where they say goodbye? How many more days do they have—how many more nights—until it ends? It could be that tomorrow the ruse is up, and Childe dons his mask; it could be as soon as the dawn that these quiet moments become their final.

Zhongli has lived too long with regrets, has learned painful lessons of the ache that echoes when there is no time to say goodbye. He is aware enough to know that this goodbye, too, is unlikely to make it hurt any less—but even so, Zhongli thinks, such things must be said. At least once. Even if only ever once.

“Thank you,” Zhongli says, into the silence. Childe looks up. “For your company.”

He does not say, tonight. It is not just about this night. It is not just about the other nights, either. Perhaps he is thanking him for all of it. He wonders if Childe understands.

Childe’s smile flickers and fades, but it is not a loss. The expression he wears—neutral, tired, duller than his smile—it is not warm, but it is his. The true name, the true face: the friend, the one Zhongli has been getting to know in bits and pieces, the person he thinks he will miss when all of this is over.

“Yeah,” this person says, this friend with a name Zhongli doesn’t know. “Yeah. You too.”

It will not last, he knows: soon, so very soon, this illusion will shatter and all their debts come to call. But for now they are together, and even if tomorrow brings back the blades of war at least for tonight there is peace.

And whatever happens, Zhongli thinks. Whatever may come—

He simply hopes that one day, in some distant future, he and Childe can be together like this once again.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin zhongli #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #zhongli/childe #chili genshin impact #genshin fic #iza fanfic

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angelaiswriting · 4 years

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Tease (Vol. 2) | Richie Gecko x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Richie Gecko x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: in which Y/N is a big tease (but at least she makes Richie cum).

✏️ A/N: part two of my ‘write smut in 1k’ challenge failed miserably haha oh well, enoy! 😈 bjs aren’t my forte, so any feedback is welcome x

✏️ Warnings: 18+ ONLY (fingering + oral m/r)

✏️ Word-count: 1,831

The excitement that comes with the knowledge that tonight is their night has yet to stop buzzing underneath her skin when Y/N gets out of the shower and wipes condensation from the frameless mirror hanging above the sink of the small motel bathroom. She smiles at her reflection and then, for a second or two, she lets that giggle go.

Last time they spent a night bunkered up somewhere is… too long ago to remember with complete certainty. She knows it was fun – it always is with Richie – but she cannot, for the life of her, remember the details. Tonight’s for new memories, though, and the best thing is, he was the one coming up with the idea. Let’s do something, just the two of us. No Seth, no plans, no nothing. Just. Us. – a bit too good to be true, sure, since all he’s been able to think about for the last couple of months is how to get his big brother out of jail, but that’s not something worth spending time on.

She quickly towels herself off and doesn’t even bother a glance at the new lingerie set she bought that afternoon for the occasion – it would end up in shreds anyway and she’s paid quite a bit for it. So, she simply wraps that hideous pastel green towel around herself and opens the bathroom door.

Richie laying back against the pillows on his single bed, hands resting behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles, glasses still on and dressed in nothing else but his pants is what she expects to find. And that’s also the one thing that doesn’t greet her when she walks back into the room.

Instead of waiting for her, Richie is sitting cross-legged on his bed, sure, but with the billion papers planning Seth’s escape scattered in front of him.

A frown settles on her face and in an attempt to stop herself from frowning, she tightens her hands into fists and crosses her arms in front of her chest. They’ve gone over that plan a billion times by now, to the point where they know it by heart and could recite it in their sleep. They’ve come up with all the things that could go wrong and how to avoid them – or how to get out of trouble in case they do go wrong. There’s absolutely no need to revise it again. What is this, high school?

This is supposed to be our night, she thinks as she sits down with a sigh on the chair in front of his bed. It’s a couple of seconds later that she realizes this could still be it, and when the thought pops up unsolicited in her mind, a smirk settles on her lips.

She undoes the towel and lets it fall to the side as her left hand trails down her breast and her abdomen before settling between her parted legs for a moment.

“Richie?” She sucks on two fingers before bringing her hand back on her sex. She’s wet and hot, and it’d be a lie if she said she didn’t get herself off just ten minutes ago in the shower.

But Richie doesn’t look up at her. He merely hums in acknowledgment and moves the papers around, probably looking for a map or a page of notes in particular.

Her smirk grows and the annoyance that could have been there isn’t there anymore. It’s hot when she thinks about it. At some point he’s going to look at her, maybe to ask her something, and he’s going to see her spread open like that. One hand between her legs, two fingers slowly pumping into her, and the other playing with her breast.

This time, when she calls his name, Richie is a strained moan followed by a whimper when her thumb starts toying with her clit.

He does look up now. The annoyance he might feel at being distracted evaporates from his features in a flash and a grin takes its place. “What are you doing?” he asks, gathering all the papers on his bed into a messy pile and moving it aside.

“I should be asking you that.”

He doesn’t need to ask her to come here twice, for she removes her hand from in-between her legs and as she stands up and walks over to him, she sucks her fingers clean. “I got carried away,” he hums as an excuse when he sits on the edge of the bed, bare feet resting on the floor.

She sits in his lap and instead of leaning in to meet his pursed lips to kiss him, she tilts her head to the side and peppers kisses on the side of his neck, her fingers already fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. “I want you to take this off now.”

He tenses in anticipation for a moment against her, but eventually, his fingers take to undoing the buttons as she licks and suckles at the skin of his neck. When he takes his shirt off, she leans back for a moment, takes him in, just to then push him back to lie down, lips light against his chest, pressing barely-there kisses down his sternum and his abdomen.

“There’s just you and me tonight, remember?” She’s kneeling on the floor between his legs now and her hand palming at his growing erection through the pants of his suit almost makes his eyes cross.

He groans a yeah that fades into nothing when she licks up one side of his v-line as her hands do quick work of his belt and zipper.

It feels like an eternity has to pass before she drags his pants and boxers down his legs and even then, her mouth is insistent on his inner thighs.

“You’re such a tease,” he groans when she finally moves her hand up his erection, gently pressing it down against his abdomen so that she can leave a kiss on his left ball.

She tries not to giggle, but she fails, and for a second her lips are pressing against his hipbone, her breathing cut off by the barely-contained laughter. “Yeah, I guess I learned from the best, then.”

He’s about to mouth her off when, instead of proceeding with her teasing, she licks a stripe up his dick, from base straight to tip, making sure to focus her attention on the vein on the underside of his erection. He breathes out of his nostrils and it’s noisy, almost strained as she presses a wet kiss to his head, right above the frenulum. Her tongue comes out, flattens against the underside of his head and licks up and over the glans, the tip of her tongue teasing his slit.

His hand tangles in her wet hair and pulls on the strands for a moment before he manages to relax again when she takes him in her mouth. She moans around him at the feeling. His abdomen tenses underneath her hand and when she takes him deeper into her mouth, she lightly scratches his skin. There’s a quick, light thrust up of his hips at the unexpected sensation, and it makes her gag for a moment around him before she pulls up again.

“Relax,” she whispers against him, lips pressed against the side of his tip as her hand slowly moves up and down.

Payback, her grin tells him when he opens his eyes to look at her.

He knows better than to put pressure on her, so he fully relaxes back and as he does so, the movement of his hand pushes the pile of papers and most of it slips to the floor.

She shushes him when he complains with a groan and instead of expressing her tired opinion about a plan they already know better than the back of their hand, she presses her lips against his glans once more. “There’s just us,” she hums against him before taking him in her mouth.

This time she doesn’t stop and although her mouth focuses on the upper part of his erection, her hand works the rest of it. It’s slobbery and messy, her movements are poorly coordinated, but she has plans for tonight and may she be damned if she doesn’t see them through.

The muscles in Richie’s thighs tense the closer he gets to orgasm and with her alternating between taking him in her mouth and suckling on his head and its rim and frenulum, she knows it won’t be long before he does come.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, both of his hands now on her head, undecided between pulling her up and pushing her down deeper, fingers tangling in her hair anyway.

His hips roll up even though she tries to keep them down and before he can call her name again, he comes on her tongue, breath cut short in the back of his throat as she suckles on him.

One hand resting right above his raging heart, she’s pressing kisses to his chest when he comes back to reality and opens his eyes.

“You are a fucking tease,” he chuckles, breathless, arms spread wide like some eagle.

“It’ll make you think twice next time before you decide to waste time on something you know by heart.” The look on her face is playful, though, and it makes him smile. “You can always give me payback now. The night is not over yet.”

She quickly pulls away with a chuckle when he tries to pin her down against his body but she has no time to warn him to watch out: with his pants still bunched around his ankles, he trips forward with the first step he takes.

“What the hell happened to your face?” is the first thing that leaves Seth’s mouth when he hops into the car.

Y/N is sitting in the middle of the backseat and has to contain the sudden burst of laughter threatening to make an appearance at those words. She’s careful not to look in the rearview mirror because she knows that if she meets Richie’s eyes, she’s not going to be able to keep a cool façade. Her heart always squeezes a bit every time she sees his swollen face and the yellow underneath his eyes, and the cast on his nose still makes her wish she had fully taken off his pants five days ago. But the memory of his fall still makes her laugh at times, and Richie is still too proud to see that accident in a playful light.

“Oh, well, it got a little rough between me and Y/N,” he smirks. “If you get the drift.”

But then, at that answer, Seth turns around to look at her with a face that’s both a what the fuck? and a what’s the truth? and there’s no stopping her from cackling.

“Yeah, right,” she laughs. “More like between him and the floor.”

dude i’m sorry

[ Original pic used for the banner: https://www.pexels.com/it-it/foto/amore-estate-giardino-foglia-4843330/ ]

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ASK)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

People that might be interested: @kind-wolf

#angelaiswriting #from dusk till dawn #richie gecko #richie gecko imagine #richie gecko fanfic #richie gecko x reader #richie gecko smut

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fragmentwitch · 3 years

Text

Posting this because it's been sitting in my drafts and we're on Tatariakashi-hen so I wanna get ahead and just repost what I had up on reddit with more coherence.

spoilers for Gou and Saikoroshihen below.

In the post-Matsuribayashi world, the last time we see our kids is Rika and friends in a minivan going to Angel Mort where Shion is waiting. Satoko asks for them to go ahead without her; which seems odd because how else is she going to Okinomiya? I can presume that she either asks Irie for a ride or uses the Hinamizawa bus stop though.

But she wandered into the ritual tool storehouse and found a horn that fell out of the Oyashiro statue that presumably is Eua's vessel. And then things kick off with Satoko's descent into hell.

So this might just be me but while watching Sotsu, I have been getting HUGE Saikoroshi vibes from Satoko's Looper journey because we don't explicitly see her die on-screen when Eua uses her magic. And I want to approach this narrative divorced from Umineko since I'm still a fencesitter about how much is canonly tied to Umineko and not just "haha hidden easter egg go brrrr".

It's possible I read a mistranslated version because I watched a youtube playthrough that sometimes had errors in grammar, but Hanyuu put Rika in a similar situation in order to 'purge Rika of her sins', which presumably has to be the Frederica Bernkastel persona or Dark Rika. Hanyuu deliberately orchestrated every parameter of that dream (I know Rika says it definitely wasn't, but it ended up as nothing more than that due to her decision) and purposely excluded herself from that world so Rika would be forced to make a choice on her own; either return to 'her' miracle world that was stained by sins through committing a sin of her own, or make the best of an unfamiliar sinless world. If she chose the sinless world (which I believe was the choice she made before Hanyuu made her think she actually killed her mother to return... feel free to correct me) she would sin by allowing a world where everybody worked so hard to achieve dissolve into oblivion and become nothing more than a dream. Choosing her world would require an act of Matricide since she had failed to value her parents in the times she was able to go back that far. Regardless of her feelings, she didn't have much certainty because it would be the last loop. And she didn't really learn to value how precious life is until then; in the grand scheme of things, many people died in unfortunate accidents like that all the time and wouldn't have a goddess to put them in the next world in hopes of a better ending.

Technically she didn't ask to become a Looper but Satoko is given these choices but things are switched: either she makes the best of her sinless world (Matsuribayashi is really a world cleansed of sins) and accepts the painful parts of that reality, or she stains these new worlds with sins to create her certain perfect world. Without Hanyuu there is no real Hinamizawa Syndrome and each loop Satoko did always started off after Takano's defeat.

It's a choice she makes with almost complete self-awareness aside from her dismissing every world she destroys as simply a dream.

To get a miracle world, Rika was tasked with preventing any more sins from taking place while Satoko has to taint any number of sinless fragments for an indeterminate amount of loops (or until Rika gives up). I think it's deliberate that we haven't been given any on screen hints that Saikoroshi ever happened so far, because it comes right after Matsuribayashi.

And for what Eua has chosen to tell Satoko, she hasn't indicated at all so far if she also sent Rika back in time with the others. From the chandelier scene on, I have had a gut feeling that she's actually been chasing after the wrong Rika this whole time. Eua never said she also sent Matsuribayashi Rika back into the endless June (or rewinded back time... she most likely jumped fragments), and that would explain why Hanyuu is just a husk; the original one went to sleep in the prime world where the club are all on their way to angel mort with 'our' Rika. This Hanyuu could either be Eua's creation or a remnant from all the times Rika has transferred her consciousness into a new world and taken that Hanyuu's place.

Satoko might wake up from what was a terrible nightmare, and she comes clean to Rika about everything bottled up inside and they actually resolve things without anger or violence. Thus purging the sins she accrued (even if she doesnt do them in reality, they are a malevolent manifestation borne from her emotional turmoil levied at Rika).

Or she might not. Depends on whether you pick 'fantasy' or 'reality'. Suppose this isn't all a hellish nightmare Satoko is having.

In Tataridamashi, it really did seem for a second that both anime AND manga, Satoko contemplated staying in that fragment but only because she chose Keiichi. She calls him Nii-nii, blushing, even wearing an outfit just for him. She stopped clinging to Rika just like she stopped clinging to Satoshi and jumped for Keiichi. Her Prince on a White Horse.

Except I think she realized this alternative happiness far too late into the fragment. Satoko controls who gets the Syndrome but not how it affects them or who they kill specifically.

Judging from the sound of bells and Teppei's glowing red eyes, I'm pretty sure by now Ryukishi lied about Ooishi "naturally" going L5 and attacking the festivalgoers. I think Satoko injected Ooishi, perhaps another one of her experimentation ideas (TAKANO JUNIOR). Satoko was so focused on resetting loops to trap Rika that she never considered the possibility of any external factor changing her mind.

Keiichi's efforts to save her from Teppei (despite her faking it most likely) made her realize she had deceived her friends' trust due to seeing the previous fragments. Keiichi promises to never abandon his friends. Satoko, just this once, lets her heart open up to those words. Except... she can't have a truly perfect ending because things have progressed past the point of return. Satoko never bothered to protect anybody but this time, just like Mion, she decided to spare Keiichi.

The only way to do it is lock him inside the house, and keep the lights off so nobody thinks someone is in there. I don't think she intended to kill Keiichi, especially didn't expect Teppei to come out and nearly kill him. She looked genuinely shocked.

Which says to me that Eua did it. Satoko's seemingly abandoning her original goal that prefaced granting her Looper abilities. She promised all her friends that once Rika was convinced to stay in Hinamizawa, they'd all have a perfect world. So by choosing to spare only Keiichi and letting the rest die in collateral damage, she's betraying them and forsaken them and the original goal.

I doubt Eua has any morals, but if she's the ruler of these fragments and not Hanyuu, having her miko run around disobeying continuity is going to be troublesome to deal with. (Notice that Eua places great emphasis on Hinamizawa Syndrome being real and Rika being a Queen carrier) She might have a hand in driving Satoko's will to break down and culminate into the gutting scene.

#higurashi gou #higurashi sotsu

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craftypeaceturtle · 4 years

Text

Sanders Sides Fic Rec

As a heads up! It’ll be very obvious that I prefer Virgil angst and so there will be a definite bias. Just a heads up! All of these will be on AO3 because... it’s the best haha! Also, I’ve only just noticed that a lot of these aren’t necessarily shippy but hey ho! Anyway, here we go!

What Students Teach- mt_reade, 4,000 words.

Hello! My name is Thomas Sanders, and I just finished my first year as a teacher.

I taught a grade one class this year, at a relatively small school. I’ve known that I wanted to be a teacher since I was young, and babysat for the first time. I just love kids so much, and I remembered how much my teachers had an influence on me growing up. I wanted to be able to do that for others. I’ve known for a long time that teaching is the right job for me.

But, what I didn’t know, is that the teaching goes both ways, and the lessons that my students have taught me this year are more valuable than any of the things that I taught them. I’m writing this now to share with anyone who reads this, just precious few of the things that my students teach me.

(I came across this recently but I just love how simple and sweet this idea is! I love how they characterised all the sides in the perspective of children, especially Remus. I feel like it would be easy to write as absolutely ridiculous but he feels still realistic while still being very much Remus!).

I'll Stay Awake (cause the dark's not taking prisoners tonight) - starlocked, 2,000 words, Anxceitmus

Virgil doesn't get to meet his soulmates each night. No, he has nightmares. His roommate decides to stage an intervention.

(I just love this take on the soulmate idea of meeting up in your dreams. I also like that it was no one’s true fault. It would’ve been easy to say that it was all Deceit’s and Remus’ fault for being terrifying but it’s more nuanced than that! There’s not a lot of shippy-ness but it’s still a soulmate au so there we go!)

(don’t) take this the wrong way- delimeful, unfinished, 7,000 words.

Local shark mer Roman finds a tiny mermaid tangled up in a net in his territory, and enlists his siren friend Patton's help to find a way to free the little guy. Unfortunately for Logan, they end up 'borrowing' a human to assist them in untangling the net. Virgil just wants to get out of this nightmare of a situation.

(Maybe I’m just a sucker for merpeople aus, but this is such a good story immediately. Instantly engaging and I’m keeping an eye on it for any new updates. I may also just be a sucker for misunderstandings which is the main conflict so far haha!)

Centaur AU- KieraElieson, unfinished, 10,000 words

Thomas is hired as a centaur groom very abruptly, and is just a little bit lost, but trying his best.

However, when you think of centaurs more as people with animal-like bodies, and everyone else thinks of them as animals with human-like bodies, disagreements are bound to come up.

(So far it’s pretty much setting up the context and characters but it’s done so effectively! The trauma of the characters is handled so well, hinted at and clearly effecting their behaviour, but not so obvious that you immediately know what’s happened to them. Despite being tagged as ambiguous time period, you don’t even really question when the story is set! It quickly grabs your attention and you focus on the story more than any tiny ambiguous details.)

No Longer Alone- Amydiddle, 3,000 words

Anxiety has been living in the basement of Thomas' mind space for almost two years now. A place were all the host's darkness resides. The small side has learned how to take care of himself and how to avoid the sides whenever he goes upstairs.

Tonight's midnight food run goes a bit differently.

(I am so weak for stories about how all the sides formed and first interacted! I think I just fell in love with this concept! Simple but such an interesting fun read!)

The Worst Thing in the World- Arwriter, 6,000 words

Everyone knows Virgil needs to be handled a little differently. He might not like it, but that’s the way it is, and living with the light sides won’t change that. After all, it’s common sense.

Right?

(The first part in a slowly expanding series, the entire series is sooo good so if you like this one then definitely continue reading! It’s such a well written look into their lives, how they handle conflicts and grief. I love Virgil angst where the others get a look into his previous life, no matter how small and sad that look is.)

tales of reverie- cattonsanders, 40,000 words, offscreen Logince.

Roman loves to read bedtime stories to his kids (even if Virgil says he’s grown out of them), but soon Patton and Virgil discover that the story book their dad has been reading to them is actually a portal to the very kingdom they’ve been told about- not only that, but their dad is the prince!

What else will they find as they venture deeper into this new world they’ve found themselves in, and what other, much darker secrets are being kept from them?

(SUCH A CREATIVE IDEA! I love how the plot always kept me guessing but never in a way that felt cheap or misplaced. Characters were introduced and you were left piecing it all together to figure out if they were trustworthy, which is what the main characters are also doing! Will always recommend)

Caught Red Handed- Wholesomereader, 20,000 words

Virgil doesn't like his dad, runs away, and 'accidentally' steals from a local bakery.

Then, the owner of said bakery hires him.

He's in so much shit.

(I love how this is paced and written out. There’s a lot of themes and relationships being built but it still feels easy to keep track of everything and nothing feels swept to the side or neglected.)

Slither Into Your Heart- Jungle321jungle, 6,000 words, unfinished, Anxceit

Deceit didn’t bother to knock as he slammed the door open and glared down to where Remus sat on his bed polishing his morning star.

“What did you do?” Deceit hissed.

Remus gave him a large smile as he looked him up or down, “Do you have the snakes just up there or are they down below too?”

If asked by Patton later, Deceit most definitely did not try to strangle the other side in that moment. Not all.

~~~~

Also known as:

Deceit is turned into a Gorgon. And the new annoying little snakes on his head seem to have an annoying obsession with Virgil.

(Amazing idea, amazing writing, sweet scenes and just! It’s just a nice read! I love how they write Deceit to be this cool tough persona but also named all his new snakes!)

Wings of Anxiety- ShadeCrawler, 7,000 words

Virgil normally kept his wings pressed tight against his back. He never let them out to stretch when he was outside his room. Yes, they got sore after a little while and yes, it rustled his feathers to the point that it took forever to groom them.

But, he couldn’t take them out. He just couldn’t. Dark Sides didn’t have wings. Only Light Sides did.

(Love me some Virgil angst, add in some wings and I’m in! I also love this idea that Virgil was supposed to be a light side all along but circumstances weren’t as fair. Strong self hatred to make a compelling story! Just yes!)

This isn’t what I wanted, but I’ll take it- Simpleton_Cat, 17,000 words, unfinished.

Thomas didn't think he would ever get pets, much less a cat. But here he was, having four cats, Logan, Patton, Roman, and Remus. And then Remus (God, please exorcise the demon that is most definitely in his cat body) brings home two more and then suddenly he's back at the Vet.

Or in other words: Everyone is a cat and Thomas is their owner.

(Again, such a cool idea! I love how this new context for the characters allow for so many new ideas and characterisations. I love Deceit and Virgil’s relationship and how that has shaped, especially how Deceit’s link to lying is written!)

Changing Tides- LadyoftheWoods, 6,000 words.

Virgil ends up overboard of his father's boat during a storm, and expects to drown in the sea. Instead he is rescued by merpeople, in more ways than one.

(Virgil angst plus merpeople- well hello! I love the slowly forming family relationship between the characters. I also love how Virgil reacts to finding out merpeople exist, feels genuine but not too drawn out.)

A Fanciful Dream- AceDetective, 20,000 words, Prinxiety

Virgil could say with certainty that he was no prince. Found by King Thomas’ chef, lost and with no memory of who he was, Virgil spent his childhood running errands in the halls of the castle. When a young King visits and claims Virgil is his brother, Virgil must determine if this is truth or a young King’s hopeful dream.

(While this is very fast paced, everything feels justified and well explained. The confusion between both Virgil and his brother feels so genuine and well written. The quiet slow reaching out makes sense for the both of them!)

Ten Things- LostyK, 30,000 words, unfinished, Anxceit, Royality

When Roman Prince learns that Patton Foster isn’t allowed to date until his older brother, Virgil, is, Roman is crushed. Roman’s twin brother Remus, however, comes up with a plan: find someone who is willing to date Virgil.

And who better to ask than Janus Verona, who according to rumours is willing to do anything for the right price?

(This is one where I kept a close eye to see if it updates, while a silly idea, it’s so well written! I love how Deceit is written as slowly caring and falling in love while still maintaining his persona, just like Virgil! I also love how Virgil is characterised as his usual anxious self but a bit more persona based like before accepting anxiety)

You Can Picani Family You Want- DramaticGarbage, 20,000 words, Analogical, Royality.

Emile finds himself in charge of two small boys who need somewhere to go. It’s going to be a learning curve for everyone.

(If you love found family stuff then this is it! It’s a series of oneshots about different parts in their lives but I love the themes and how the characters progress through each moment. It’s so sweet and rewarding. Plus it has big boi Roman which is always a plus!)

Fatherly Sides- Bright_Sea, 60,000 words, Moceit

There are good and bad days when it comes to being a father. Deceit and Patton learn all about it while raising their four boys.

(Similar to the one above, lots of found family sweet moments all connected by the larger plots and themes. The angst of the larger plot is given the seriousness and gravity that it deserves. I love how trauma is talked about and dealt with in a healthy manner. Everything feels so genuine and realistic!)

Colors- Badgermole, 49,000 words (21 works), Logicality.

A collection of stories where Logan is a young Virgil's dad. Virgil happens to be autistic and has a fascination with colors. Unless otherwise stated: Virgil is aged around early elementary school age with Roman 2 years older.

(Again, with the sweet family moments with minimal angst! I don’t have autism so I can't say whether it’s realistic or not but it’s very well written and covers a lot of autistic themes and everyday life. Actually, read pretty much everything by badgermole as their writing is so good and they tackle a lot of disabled issues!)

Powerless- patentpending, 187,000 words, Logicality, Prinxiety.

“People like us,” Logan had once remarked to Virgil. “Are statistical anomalies.”

(Almost) Everyone in the world has powers. As for those who don’t, well, they’re such a small part of the population - only 0.04% - why would anyone care about them?

Ever since he realized what people mean when they call him Powerless, Virgil Sanders has tried to fight back against the system that oppresses people like him, Patton, and Logan. When Patton’s bakery is targeted in a hate crime, he finally snaps. With the help of a mysterious sponsor, Virgil becomes a villain, ready to remake a broken society. The only thing standing in his way is the world’s most Powerful (and infuriatingly charming) superhero: The Prince, who is hiding the fact that his gilded life isn’t as perfect as it may seem.

(So well written! While fast paced, everything feels so well balanced. Main characters and their plots balanced with new OCs that don’t feel too much and justified in being there. The plot kept me guessing while still feeling justified and interesting.)

Grounded- InstantFire, 18,000 words

No matter your age, punishments are no fun. Despite being no fun, would you be willing to do anything to avoid said punishment?

(I don't know what it is about this piece but it's just sooo good! I’ve reread it so many times, it just won’t leave my mind! I love how it’s carefully written where we don’t quite exactly know what the misunderstanding is until it’s stated out loud for all the characters. Maybe I just have a weakness for Virgil angst and misunderstandings but so worth a read!)

Snow Day- RandomSlasher, 8,000 words

Every year, the sides go to Roman’s realm and spend a few days enjoying the snow. Well…most of the sides. Set pre-Accepting Anxiety.

(SOOOO GOOD! The found family is so well written. Actually, while this is the only mention of Random Slasher because I don’t want this to be too long, read everything and anything by Random Slasher. So well written with some amazing ideas.)

Looking for the Light- OreoButter, 30,000 words

Remus, Deceit and Virgil Dark are Brothers. They had an awful home and now are in the foster system. After being passed from family to family they finally end up with Thomas. Remus is gross, Deceit is a compulsive lier and Virgil has crippling anxiety. Virgil will do anything to protect his brothers, at any cost. The family of three will have to face trial and the truth as they search for the light.

(I absolutely love found family if you couldn’t guess already! But I love how they wrote the sibling relationship between the dark sides, feels so genuine and justified. There is shipping but it feels more like a side plot so!)

Sightless- riverblujay, 9,000 words

Virgil is blind. It's not a big deal though, right? But he hides it, because if the other sides knew they would push him away again. And besides, he's pretty good at faking being sighted...

And the other sides are also more observant than he realizes.

(Again, this is another fic that I keep returning to! Also, I’m not blind or have any partial sight so I can't so whether this is realistic but the conflict and comfort feels so genuine and justified.)

The Black Hole Group Chat- Greenninjagal, 26,000 words, LAMP.

Cat_feelings: [I just have a lot of feelings for you Logan]

Anxi_Tea: [platonic?]

Cat_feelings: [does it matter?]

Anxi_Tea: [you’ve known him for twenty five minutes.]

*** aka a text fic where Logan texts the wrong number and everything goes downhill from there.

(I know text fics can be a little hit or miss but the chemistry feels so real and fun. The characters are still very much themselves, a lot of text fics can feel out of character. I also adore the fact that Virgil is mute so the fic has a reason for why the group chat is used despite them all meeting in person. So good, will always recommend!)

April Fool’s- feduphufflepuff, 5,000 words

This is Virgil's first April Fool's Day with the FamILY, and he has no idea what to expect.

(Love me some Virgil angst and misunderstandings so here ya go! The found family vibes and the comfort and just ah! So good, just go read!)

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #not my writing #fic rec

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years

Text

“FUSHIMI’S INACTIVE DAY“

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Fushimi Saruhiko handles a lot of work every day that ordinary people would not normally do.

By looking at the work he does, you can quickly see that he is not giving up his strength.

His work style to strive for organization is incompatible with his way of life and emotions.

A work environment where members have to stay up all night for irrational reasons would be the one he despises the most.

Also, Fushimi's practical processing speed is certainly faster than that of ordinary people, but not far from humans. He is cautious, he works more with certainty than with speed.

So what's better with Fushimi?

He stands out for supervising all the work, prioritizing and finding the most efficient way. First, he organizes in his head the work he has accumulated when he goes to work, and quickly builds a daily schedule while visualizing the optimal procedure.

And it basically works according to the plan he decided on first.

Of course, a lot of sudden problems occur in a workplace like Scepter 4, but he tries to stick to his plan as long as possible. He also builds his own system to cut down on tasks if necessary, and gives his subordinates work.

This is how he does his hard daily work.

Despite the disappearance of the Dresdren Slate, many malicious strains still exist and crime continues to occur.

Even if the weight of Kokujouji and the Golden clan is gone, Scepter 4's activities continue.

Fushimi is at the center of Scepter 4, who took on this challenge.

However, there are days when he can't do his job the way he wants. In the morning, he started with a frown, which could be bad.

At the morning briefing with Hidaka, "Fushimi-san, are you feeling sick?" He asks him.

"It is not a big thing."

He replied bluntly, but his body, cough, and limbs were getting worse and worse, and finally, in the afternoon, Reisi Munakata said:

"The boss's order. Fushimi-kun. Rest as soon as possible."

Once sentenced, he had to return to his bedroom with a click of his tongue.

There are such days several times a year.

The cold alone made no sense for proper planning or excellent processing power. When he put on his sleepwear, he poured the sports drink and nutritional jelly that Enomoto bought into the back of his throat, which had started to swell a little, and wrapped himself in a futon. And just before closing his eyes, he remembered that he had scheduled a drink with Misaki Yata, with a feeling of impatience, contacted him.

"That bad. I have a cold. Today's schedule will need to be rescheduled.”

And fell asleep like a log.

When he realized it, the area was completely dark. Fushimi was slightly surprised that he had slept much longer than he expected. He wipes away the night sweats with a hand towel near the bed. His throat still hurts and he is a little cold, but his body is much better.

He looks at the clock, it's after 10 at night. When he opened his PDA, he was concerned about Yata's response.

"Okay. Then, I'll take it to you.”

The answer was a very light sentence. Fushimi frowned.

"Give it to me? What did you bring? What is this idiot talking about?”

Then suddenly it occurred to him,

"Could be...?"

When he reacts, they hit the window like they were responding. Fushimi realized everything and hurriedly opened the window so that the others would not notice. From there,

"Haha, I will bother you."

For some reason, Yata with tree branches and leaves all over his hair and clothing, walked in with a full smile.

"Fine. Do you look better than you think?”

He takes off his shoes, drops the backpack he was carrying, and sits down on the bed. Fushimi sighed deeply while standing.

“The heat is likely to rise again because of you. Will you sneak into the territories of other clans?”

"Well, I wanted to do it once."

When he saw Yata smiling like a mischievous boy, "Hehe." he felt more stupid, and Fushimi sat on the bed next to Yata.

"So you came to visit me?"

"Yes. Here."

He taking out a tupperware container from his backpack and open the lid. It smelled great from inside.

"Rice porridge?"

"Of course, it also has pineapple."

Fushimi laughed involuntarily. Why is there always pineapple in it.

"Well, eat fast and get well. Let's go drink again when you're cured.”

Fushimi received a plastic spoon from Yata and was not as hungry, but he decided to eat. The porridge with pineapple was delicious.

#k #k project #k stories #k fan clan #yata misaki #fushimi saruhiko #homra #SCEPTER 4

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thepancakeboi · 4 years

Text

Day 1: Favorite Scene

Would you people hate me if I said it’s the scene after the boiler room fight...? Because it is- Granted, “Honey I’m home” is always a favorite of mine but...the after-fight FEELS. Also, my favorite scene could change as I play through Royal, as I’m still on the third palace and have just started Goro’s confidant.

I’m going to leave this now. Someone needs to remind me to stop writing things that make me cry-

I severely underestimated you, Joker. You and your band of thieves...

“You ready to call it quits?”

Skull’s question is pointless. Isn’t my answer obvious? I decide to indulge him with a response if only to put your mind at ease. “I know... I’ve had enough.” I’m done trying to kill you. It’s clear your skills exceed mine. You win again, just as you always do. “...You’re so lucky. Lucky to be surrounded... by teammates who acknowledge you...And once Shido confesses his crimes, you’ll all be heroes.” Your fame won’t be part of an elaborate scheme this time. Shido’s crimes are truly unforgivable. No one would side with him once the truth is revealed. Anyone who does isn’t in their right mind. But with the truth comes... “As for me, people will find out my past deductions were just charade. My fame and trust will vanish.” The trust I had lost with you, the Phantom Thieves, it seems minuscule in comparison.

“I see,” Mona says after a slight pause. “So you were turning people psychotic, then solving the cases yourself. And you did that by joining forces with Shido.”

He’s just now figuring this out? How foolish...though I keep those thoughts to myself. I don’t have the time nor the heart to antagonize your group further. Besides, what right have I to say anything? It was foolish of me to think I could take on all the Phantom Thieves at once. Mona was right. I’m just some child ‘throwing a temper tantrum’ as he rightly put it. What was I thinking, believing I could be something special? That was the wishful thinking of a naive little kid. “In the end... I couldn’t be special...”

Skull immediately buts in. “Dude, you’re more than special...”

Wait...what?

“It pains me to admit... but your wit and strength far exceeds ours. We only defeated you by teaming up,” Queen reluctantly admits. Where is this coming from? “I was honestly... envious of your natural ability. It was frustrating to see how much my sister trusted you...” If only you knew how strained our trust truly was when I started working with you. Sae-San and I were barely speaking to each other by that point in time.

I’m surprised when Noir joins in. She’s the last person I would expect to add on to this conversation, considering what I did to her father. “I have no intention of forgiving you for what you did to my father, but... I sympathize with you.” I don’t expect her to ever forgive me, and she shouldn’t. Not when I don’t deserve any form of forgiveness. “I wholeheartedly understand wanting to get back at the adults who took from you...”

“But when you gained the power to fulfill that desire, you only used it for your own self-benefit,” Fox adds.

Oracle chimes in after him. “If you’ve got more than one Persona, maybe you actually have the same kinda power as Joker’s.” The same power? My gaze turns to you at this. You’re being much more quiet than usual. I wonder what’s going on in that head of yours. “But you trusted no one, so you only got two Personas: one for your lies, and one for your hate. Still, you thought that was enough, right? That part I totally get.”

“You excelled at everything over us... yet that was the one thing you lacked.”

The one thing I lacked...here I thought it was skill, or perhaps friendship. To think that it would be simply trusting others. Oracle and Fox are right. I only relied on myself to get where I am, trusting no one. In the end, that’s what’s caused my downfall. Though...it isn’t entirely true. I had trusted you to some extent.

“All right, let’s go back and get that callin’ card ready!” Skull says, eager to leave. “We’re gonna take Shido down. What’re you gonna do?”

The question stuns me. You shouldn’t be concerning yourself with me. “It’d be a problem if you kept getting in our way. Wanna come along and help us settle things?” Panther asks.

“...Are you all idiots?” I finally say, shoving my own feelings away. It doesn’t matter that I want to come with your group or that I would love nothing more than to fight my father by your side. It’s too late for that. “You should get rid of me... if you don’t want me getting in your way.”

It may have been Panther who asked the question, but my eyes are on you. I want to hear your response. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” you say with such certainty, such finality, that it leaves little room for argument. “I don’t want to lose you. Come with us. We’ll change his heart, together.”

Together...? Is that really what you want? I shake my head at the absurdity. “...You all are truly beyond my comprehension.”

“Akechi?” Skull blurts out in shock. His response confuses me.

“Another one!? Wait, is he...” Fox says, and it’s then I realize the source of their surprise. I must really be faltering if I didn’t notice the newcomer, a nearly identical version of me. His dead brown eyes give away who, or what, he is.

“That’s... Shido’s cognitive version of Akechi!” Mona says, confirming my suspicions.

So, I’ll be finding out what my father thinks of me. Haha, not that I give a shit anymore-wait, he’s...pointing a gun at me!? “I’ll deal with the rest of you later,” he says. At the look of shock on my face, he elaborates. “Captain Shido’s orders... He has no need for losers. Well... this just moves the plan up a little. He was going to get rid of you after the election anyway.”

“What!?” How... how could he!?

“Did you truly believe you’d be spared after all the murders you undertook?” No... I hadn’t believed that for a second. I knew the consequences of my crimes should they ever be discovered. But surely Shido couldn’t say anything without implicating himself! “Don’t tell me... Were you actually feeling good about having someone rely on you for once?”

“I-” I... had enjoyed being relied on, even if the reason was as deplorable as needing me as his personal hit-man.

“Oh by the way, the captain says it’s time you receive retribution for causing the mental shutdowns.”

“What the hell, man!?” Ryuji yells. He sounds pissed. “That bastard’s the one who put him up to it!”

“I see,” I chuckle. The irony of the situation doesn’t escape me. “I was wondering how he’d protect himself if I used my power to tear through his Palace. Turns out you’re how. So he’s making a puppet kill me... Sounds like something he’d do.”

He nods. “That’s right. I’ll do anything. But look at yourself... you’re the true puppet.” I...I’m the puppet? “You wanted to be acknowledged, didn’t you? To be loved? You’ve been nothing but a puppet from the very beginning.” That... was exactly what I had wanted. All of my plans, my revenge, all stemmed from simply wanting my father to acknowledge me. Here it turns out that he already knew everything and he has no qualms of killing me off. It doesn’t surprise me, but... “What’s all this nagging about?” He’s talking to you and the rest of the thieves. What did any of them even say...? “Want me to take care of you first?”

I can hear the sound of Shadows materializing behind me, but I pay them no mind. Panther is the one to speak the entire group’s thoughts. “No... He’s not alone! He has Shadows too!”

“You know what? I’ll let someone volunteer to take his place.” A cruel grin forms on the cognition’s face as if relishing the situation. “Who knows, you might delay his death.”

Immediately, my eyes hone in on you. I’ve seen that look in your eyes before, right before you execute some outlandish scheme. You better not try it now. “I-”

“No,” I snarl, cutting off whatever response you might have. I already know exactly what you’re thinking, and I’m not going to let you go through with whatever wild plan is taking shape in your mind. “I’m not letting you die for me.”

“But-”

“No.” I am not going to let you change my mind.

“You guys are all about doing things for others, aren’t you?” The cognitive me remarks as if goading you on into ignoring my wishes. “Oh, that’s just the same as me. I’m going to take all the blame for our captain. I’ll die for him too.”

“This is what Shido thinks of Akechi-kun, even after making him help with the murders!?” Queen says in surprise. Why is your group so shocked by this? I know exactly the kind of man my father is. I know what’s going to happen next.

“Here, I’ll give you one last chance.” The cognition focuses his attention solely on me. “Shoot them,” he commands.

I laugh, “I was such a fool.”

My hand is steady as I point my gun, aiming it right between your eyes. The mask hides it well, but I remember the look on your face right now. It’s the same one that you had in the interrogation room just before I murdered you in cold blood. Despite my outward stillness, my thoughts are going haywire. Am I truly capable of this? Your voice wavers a little as if you can’t bring yourself to believe the scene before you. “Goro, you-”

“Yes,” the cognition hisses excitedly. “That’s the you our captain wishes to see.”

I shake my head, a chuckle escaping me. If anyone notices my tears, I’m blaming it on the pain of my injuries. “...Don’t misunderstand.” I don’t know who I mean that to: you, the cognitive version of me, or both of you. It seems I’ve finally managed to fool you after all. “You’re the one who’s going to disappear!”

I whirl around, immediately firing once I have the cognition in my sights. My shot hits him in the abdomen. I barely spare him a glance as he drops to his knees. My next target is further away, but my accuracy pays off. The glass shatters, the bullet activating the red button underneath. Alarms blare as red lights flash. “The watertight bulkhead door has closed,” an automatic announcement says in a monotone female voice. “All personnel within the partition wall: evacuate at once.”

My intuition was right. The bulkhead door rises up from the ground, right between us. I’m left with the Shadows and the cognition. This is how it was always meant to be. “Whoa, what is this!?” Oracle says, her voice muffled behind the door.

“Akechi!” Skull yells, banging his fists hard. His voice is clearer just because of how loud he is. Typical.

“Hurry up and go,” I yell back, leaning against the door. I’m struggling to stay on my own two feet, but I fear that if I collapse now, I’ll never get back up.

“You fool!” Fox’s voice isn’t as loud as Skull’s, but his voice cuts through the thick metal. “Are you trying to get yourself killed!?”

I suppress a laugh. It wasn’t the plan, but... if it happens, so be it. At least my death will be for something- no, someone I love. “The real fools... are you guys. You should have just abandoned me here a long time ago... You would have all perished... if you had tried to face these with me weighing you down...” My words are interrupted by a fit of coughing. I cover my mouth as I do. The black gloves are speckled with red spots that hadn’t been there before. It’s blood... my blood.

“Akechi-kun!” Queen cries out. Is...she concerned about me?

I hear a fist bang against the wall, this time right behind me, and I immediately assume it to be Skull again. Instead, I’m shocked to hear your voice crying out my name, “Goro!” Are you...crying? I must be imagining things. I’m not worth your tears. “Why!? Why are you-”

My voice is strained as I continue. Even talking hurts. “Let’s make a deal, okay?”

“Goro...”

I can hear the pout in your voice. I’m so glad I cannot see your expression. It would make this so much harder. “You won’t say no, will you?”

Fox answers, “Why at a time like this!?”

I know you won’t deny my words. You’re too good, too perfect to refuse this request. “Change Shido’s heart... in my stead... End his crimes... Please!” I end with a desperate yell. I’m hoping you don’t refuse.

“Akeppi...” I wasn’t imagining it after all. You are crying over me. Of course you are. If there’s one thing that has been constant, it’s your damn feelings for me at every turn. I don’t even object to that stupid little nickname you gave me all those months ago. “I’ll hold on to your glove.”

I gasp. I thought you had forgotten about that, after everything that has happened. To think that you still have it... I shake my head. You never fail to surprise me. “Heh... After all this, that’s what you have to say? Seriously, you really are...”

I don’t have time to finish my sentence. The cognitive version of me is finally recovering, standing up as he snarls in whatever pain a cognition can feel. “You bastard...”

He immediately points his gun at me. I push myself off the wall, pointing my own gun at the cognition. “So my final enemy is a puppet version of myself... I...!”

I try to shut out the rest of the world before my resolve falters. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid. I am, but... you’re worth this sacrifice. If only I could have accepted your offer, but there’s still no use talking in hypotheticals.

I’m... I’m sorry, Ren.

Case closed. This is how my ‘justice’ ends.

#GoroWeek #goro week #i need to stop writing things that make me cry #the feelings #p5 #persona 5 #p5r #persona 5 royal #persona 5 spoilers #persona 5 royal spoilers #goro akechi #akechi #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #p5 joker #phantom thieves #akeshu #shuake

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