#how he just started to mature into somebody that opened himself to the world and that expressed himself more

[blouisparadise]

There were some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of January. We really hope you enjoy this list and show these fics love. Happy reading!

1) Strawberry Cake | Teen & Up | 1,789 words

When Louis gets stuck in a bad situation at a bar, Harry steps in to help.

2) Intoxicated | Mature | 2,156 words

“Could, I-uh- get a drink, perhaps?” The stranger asks. Louis snaps back. Quickly closing his mouth and attempting to respond to the deep and surprisingly demanding voice. “Oh, I’m sorry but we are closed for the day” Louis responds. In all honesty he could have made the man a drink, but the lack of supplies Louis had thus far prevented him from offering anything but a half drunk bottle of beer. “But the door was open.” The person retrots. Inviting himself further into the establishment and seating himself down on one of the tables. Louis knits his eyebrows together out of confusion. He also stops admiring the man and feels annoyance building up instead. “Yes, the door was open, but my bar is still closed.” Louis replies. Annunciating the fact that he was in charge so his words could be taken more seriously by this customer that was turning from charming to sour.

3) I’ll Love You When The Oceans Dry, I’ll Love You When The Rivers Freeze | Explicit | 2,515 words

Harry and Louis are on vacation with their friends. Louis gets very drunk so Harry takes him back to his hotel room. He sees text exchanges about Louis liking some guy and he gets jealous so snoops more and realizes it is him. In the morning, Louis realizes that Harry snoops and secrets are revealed.

4) Powerless (And I Don't Care) | Explicit | 4,061 words

Everyone on tour calls each other daddy, don’t ask why. And Louis is so used to calling everyone “daddy” that, when he finally comes home, naturally he calls Harry that.

5) Now You Hang From My Lips | Explicit | 6,292 words

Louis gives him an appraising look—starting at the soles of his expensive shoes and ending at the top of his head. “Just a drink,” he answers, because he loves this part—the chase. He loves having someone hanging on his every word and if there’s one thing for sure he’ll make somebody work for it. If H isn’t down for that, if he gives up too easily then it wasn’t meant to be anyways. Because that’s the other half of it, Louis also wants someone who will put him in his place. “Well in that case, I’ve got room with a minibar. Why don’t you come upstairs with me and you can have whatever you want.” Bingo.

6) Mother In Law | Mature | 8,070 words

Harry has been watching Louis from afar for about a month, but he refuses to call himself a stalker. He just admires him, not following him like a creep. Until one day, Louis approaches him. They have sex. Harry finds out that Louis is rich and he feels insecure. He decides that he needs to let Louis go. The problem is Louis falls deeper.

7) Behind Smoke Stained Curtains | Explicit | 19,054 words

It was a particularly lonely night when Harry walked through his door with a flurry of snow. He was a little rough around the edges with a trucker hat pushed down over untamed long hair. He looked a little greasy, a shower definitely not in his recent past. His tan Carhartt work coat was smudged with dirt and oil and caked with grime, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. The scent was overwhelming as soon as he walked in, unmasked alpha from days on the road stewing in a cab of his own pheromones. Louis was sure it was so deep into the fabric of his coat that no amount of washing would ever truly remove the stench. The worlds align when Louis meets an alpha from the road with as many secrets as he holds himself.

8) Sunshine (You Temptress) | Explicit | 26,870 words

All it took was one idiotic dare, one boy, one night. He’s twenty eight years old, six months fresh out of possibly the worst break up you could ever imagine, and his Friday nights are spent fucking a nineteen year old stranger. He’s still not completely sure how it happened.

10) The Road Not Taken | Explicit | 35,285 words

Louis’ not paying attention as his phone unlocks, and he’s shocked when the thread opens and there’s only one message there from an unknown contact. I’m home. For a minute he assumes it’s got to be a wrong number, and before he can decide whether to just ignore it or send a response the three dots show up and then a second message. It’s Harry by the way. And finally a third right after that. Are you busy tonight?

11) You Could Be The One That I Love | Explicit | 39,797 words

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Niall waved off. “Now, let’s talk man to man to man. You two have had a crush on each other since uni. Now’s your chance to finally get something going. I could see the sparks and connection and attraction back then and I can still see it now, God damn it! You’re just denying fate at this point.” He looked impassioned, his blue eyes wide and imploring. Louis shook his head again and chuckled. “You can’t just snap your finger and expect us to, like, get it on.” “I’m not,” he reasoned. “I’m merely telling you to do something about it.”

12) Paradise Is Getting Closer | Mature | 52,685 words

Louis hated his life, which consisted only of death and destruction. Despite the lives he had saved and continued to save, a part of him couldn't feel satisfied. He had been the one who gave up a normal life and although he knew what was to come, the loneliness had never left him in all these years, not even for a second. He felt it in his heart every time he approached a target, he felt it in the few minutes before falling asleep in his dingy car or while he allowed himself a few hours of sleep before setting off again, and he felt it every time he closed that door behind him.

13) Don't Want No Other Shade Of Blue | Explicit | 58,638 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Louis. “All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.” “As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”

14) Men Are Shit | Explicit | 77,728 words

Welcome to Louisland. Here you'll find fluffy socks, chaos and always enough alcohol to toast the fact that all men are shit.

15) You Were My Because | Explicit | 109,089 words

Note: Please remember to check tags for any trigger warnings.

Louis has battled the demons of his past for years now and has little hope of finding happiness for himself. Especially now that a school reunion is taking place and the memories of his school days are suddenly coming back with full force. But after rain always comes sunshine, in Louis’ case in the form of his old schoolmate Harry. A story about healing, friendship, finding trust and love.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#blp fic recs #bottom louis #top harry #blp #fic recs #larry

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Past Artemis and Present Artemis Are Not Allowed in the Same Room

If Number 1 kind of nudged the door open to time travel and wibbly wobbly timey wimey shenanagins in Lost Colony, then Artemis full-on kicked it down and yeeted a grenade through it in this book. Let's talk Artemis Fowl: The Time Paradox.

As per usual, SPOILERS ABOUND below the break.

There are a ton of things about this book that are amazing and in order to stay at least a little organized, we're gonna use HEADINGS this time around! That's not to say the headings are in any particular order, but life has been lifeing and I need a little help making sure I gush about everything I want to here. Because while Eoin Colfer introduced time travel in the last book, this one is a whole TIME PARADOX PLOT!

Opal Koboi, Empress of our Hearts

So, there are places for nuanced, complex, morally gray villains who have carefully throught-through ethoses and who are compelling because of their tragedy. Those kinds of villains are great.

Opal Koboi is not that kind of villain.

Opal Koboi is a villain in the classic Disney sense. She is absolutely unhinged, wants nothing more than to be Empress of the Goddamn World, and absolutely revels in setting things on fire just to watch them burn. She is rock-solid on her own worth, she is terrifyingly intelligent, and she is equally fun when she is strutting around in her own success as when she is pitching a dramatical cats tantrum because somebody said "ethics" in her presence. Our girl is sheer fun from start to finish, and honestly I love how consistent she is.

In this book, we see Opal before the events of The Arctic Incident, and it's great to know that she has ALWAYS been unhinged and glorious. If anything, this book shows us that the plan to use the B'wa Kell to take over Haven was weirdly vanilla for Opal. Sucking the bodily fluids out of endangered animals to basically Captain America super serum herself is...way more on brand.

The bit where she is too narcissistic and paranoid to stay in character as Angeline Fowl for more than like 60 seconds once Jay Jay is in the room is also AMAZING. Talk about getting in your own way...

Artemis vs. Artemis

So sometimes as a series gets increasingly lengthy, it's good to remind readers and character how much your protagonists have grown. Eoin Colfer decided that time travel was a great way to take advantage of this, and reveled in it by giving readers 10-year-old Artemis's opinion of 18-year-old Artemis and vice versa for the entire book, and it is SO FUN. They both hate each other, and understandably so. They both also have qualities that the other begrudgingly respects, and ultimately they need BOTH Artemises to resolve the plot.

We also get some really lovely instances of Artemis outsmarting and bamboozling himself. This conceit had every chance of coming off as cringe as hell, but Colfer handed it with enough humor and humanity to make it feel real rather than like a whole book devoted to a vanity plot centered on Artemis thinking he's the best thig since sliced bread.

Artemis...That was WILDLY Uncool to do to Holly

Ok, so Artemis has grown a lot over the course of five books. He's matured. He's learned how to be a reluctant antihero. He and Holly are legit friends. Which somehow manages to make it EVEN WORSE when Artemis full-on knowingly tricks Holly into thinking that she not only gave his mother a fatal illness but also started a plague that at one point killed 20% of the fairy population in three years. There's honestly no coming back from that kind of breach of trust.

And no, giving Holly a chance to say goodbye to Commander Root does NOT make Holly and Artemis square. It nicely ties up a loose emotional thread, but it does NOT square the emotional devastation of infecting a friend's mother and starting the plague 2.0. That is possibly the least believable relationship dynamic in a book where Artemis and Holly KISS (no, we're not gonna talk about it, they were both under the influence of the time stream and it doesn't count).

The truly wild thing about this is that Artemis before the fairies was a cold-hearted little bastard capable of incredible cruelty, but once Artemis understands feelings and emotional relationships, he's suddenly capable of hurting people WAY MORE than he could when he was a tiny robotic human. And of course the person he takes aim at is HOLLY SHORT. Like, FFS, Artemis. You did less damage when you had the emotional intelligence of a gold ingot...

Butler

Domovoi Butler is too good for this world and we do not deserve him. Artemis sure as hell does not deserve him, past OR present. Past Butler full on calls 10-year-old Artemis out on the act that he is *checks notes* handing over the last of a species to a group of fanatics to be horribly murdered in a kangaroo court, fully sells a sentient elf to those same fanatics, does not emotionally let Artemis off the hook when he is experiencing guilt and shame over being an accessory to murder and extinction, and TURNS THE PLANE AROUND to go save Holly and 18-year-old Artemis from the extinctionists. And thats just past Butler.

Present Butler is such a goddamn badass that he resists a juiced-up Opal Koboi's mesmer so hard that he gives himself a heart attack. Not even Opal Koboi can pull a 180 on Butler's moral compass, and even when he can't fully fight her off, he can resist in little ways, like sticking breathing tubes in barrels. Someone let this man retire happily, he has MORE THAN earned it at this point.

Baby's First Ecocritical Text

Environmentalism and ecocriticism have been very present as secondary themes in the Artemis Fowl series from the very first book, but this is, I believe, the first book where this theme gets really explicit and has real, concrete plot consequences and implications. The "hunting animals to extinction is bad for [list of reasons]" isn't the deepest or most nuanced version of the argument, but it doesn't have to be. The audience for these books are middle graders and YA readers. They get a concrete introduction to ecocriticism and some very comprehensible examples of the consequences of extinction and pollution, and that's going to be enough for more of them than you'd think to keep thinking and reading about the issue.

I highlight this because so few middle grade and YA books do ecocriticism at all, let alone this clearly and concisely. I suspect we will see more of this as climate change keep wreaking absolute havoc on quite literally everything, but these books did it before it was cool, and I really appreciate that about them.

Overall, this book is not my favorite of the series. Time travel can be a hard sell, even if you weave the complexities of time travel around a relatively simple fetch quest. As per usual though, the character work is never not entertaining, and I do enjoy rereading this one periodically.

#eoin colfer #artemis fowl #artemis fowl the time paradox #the time paradox #time travel #holly short #domovoi butler #opal koboi #middle grade sci fi #middle grade fantasy #middle grade books #middle grade fiction #books & libraries #books and reading #books and novels #books #book recommendations

[gkt-tummyaches]

Would you mind sharing your thoughts on blossutch? if thats okay

more than okay !! blossutch is one of my favorite ships, but it's more like a softcore comfort deal, so this might be a little bland.

i think they're one of those couples that can have conversations with just a look. if they ever pursued a romantic relationship, they'd be the type to take it slow; one date after another, taking their time to really get to know each other - both as friends and as lovers, because both relationships are important to them.

they're both mediators in their separate sibling dynamics, but blossom takes her role as eldest seriously and doesn't really confide in people very much. i think butch's easy-going nature would give her the room she needs to open up, finally learn to rely on somebody rather than keep her feelings bottled up and freezing people out.

blossom and butch would take the time to create solid foundations. if not for the slow burn aspects of it - i do love the thought of mutual pining between them, but maybe having the maturity to recognize that neither are quite ready for something so heavy; maybe not feeling like they're good enough yet, and therefore take the time to work on themselves before reaching out for each other. - then because of a sense of 'time and place'.

i think attraction could start from as early as childhood. like a crush, that grows as they grow, kind of drawn into orbit. there's no rush. it gives them that time to carry out the aforementioned self-betterment.

but the attraction also being something spontaneous is fun too. that they spent years growing up in similar roles, with similar struggles; the irony of parallel lines never meeting is an interesting point of angst. in that scenario, i think butch finding some parts of himself mirrored in blossom (the numbness, the inability to reach out to somebody drifting away from you, the struggle for self-confidence,) would invoke the empathy needed for him to bridge the distance, but i don't think in that case it would be guaranteed that blossom would reciprocate.

overall, i like blossutch in a slow, syruppy kind of way. the kind of people that feel like an old married couple: like they've been together for as long as they've been alive. not soulmates, but fitting together so nicely that even if the romantic interest were to fade, they'd still be left as very good friends in the aftermath.

they may not have a lot of overlapping interests, and in some ways they're sort of at odds with each other (ie; butch being a high school dropout, blossom being an academic weapon,) but those kinds of things don't matter. they align on the important things: views on justice, on what kind of drink should have cold foam, on how to communicate with your loved ones.

there's a lot of things they can learn from each other too. i think that's where they benefit each other the most: not what they have in common, but what they have experienced that sets them apart from each other. they're from opposing sides in childhood.

butch is a perfect example of somebody failed by the system, rejected by the people who should've helped him, and left to slip through the cracks. he's the kind of person that blossom endeavors to help. his perspective on things is the insight she needs to do that.

and on the other side of things, blossom is somebody butch really admires. while she has her own struggles, there's an organic sense of optimism that brightens the world - she's not unrealistic, or idealistic, but her cold-cut determination to bring about good is,, refreshing. it's the kind of thing butch would need to pull himself up.

blossutch is just a feel-good ship for me all around. they bring to mind the image of lovers cozied up on the couch with blankets and fuzzy slippers, or pestering each other to go to bed when up at an unreasonable time. there's some silly unhealthy habits they probably enable in each other - such as all-nighters, energy drinks, binge-watching tv shows - and i imagine they probably bicker of stupid things that don't really matter.

it's just cute. they're cute. they're the couple you expect to outlive the end of the world, if that makes sense. whatever form that takes.

// i'm not really into the 'bad boy x nerd girl' characterizations of it i see floating around as much ? it always feels like it leans into the 'fixer' tropes, which i really dislike. imo it also makes blossutch feel flat. detracts from the kind of depth and dynamicity it could have if given the breathing room to have blossom and butch be fully fleshed-out, multidimensional characters before they get together, rather than being two undeveloped characters that become 'more' as a couple and 'less' when separate. i won't pretend i'm any better; i realize my own interpretation of the ship is kind of boring and uneventful too. if i ever actually wrote a plot-driven story around them, i'd hope that changes, but as i said at the start: this is more of a comfort for me than something i'm invested in for narrative and plot.

#blossutch #ppgxrrb #powerpuff blossom #blossom #rowdyruff butch #butch #ask #shipping discourse #they're so cute

[isfjmel-phleg]

Why I like it: Leave It to Psmith

I've analyzed this book to death. I don't even know what to say about it anymore.

It's probably the most familiar of the series. It has had the most adaptations--multiple theatrical versions and radio adaptations, a mysterious Hungarian film, an early 1930s film that removed Psmith and replaced him with one Sebastian Help, an Indian series in which Psmith is called...Rambo? (seeing a theme here--adapters seem to be afraid of Psmith himself). It crosses over with the Blandings series, which was then just getting started. It's easy to read without having read the earlier installments, for readers who are more reluctant to take on all the cricket etc. of those books.

Wodehouse intended it that way. Leave It to Psmith was written for a different audience than the other Psmith books. Instead of British schoolboys, his readership was now adult Americans who wouldn't have known Psmith at all since the earlier books hadn't been published in the US then. They didn't care about cricket; they were looking for the kind of plot that Wodehouse is more often associated with today. Hilarious, intricate shenanigans with some light romance. And the ever versatile Psmith fits into this new genre perfectly. Perhaps that's where he belonged all along.

Leave It to Psmith is one of the finest examples of Wodehouse's best style. There are different views on this, but I personally consider his work from approximately the early 1920s through the 1930s to be the height of his talent (he had finally fully found his voice, and the stories are still new enough to avoid the more overtly formulaic feel of his later books). And Leave It to Psmith is one of the books that kicked off that era of his writing. It's got everything. A witty and distinctive prose style that complements the theatrically-influenced story and characters. A memorable cast. A bizarre and silly but ultimately sweet central romance. A shocking newspaper ad. Flowerpot throwing. Jewel heists. Gun fights. An obnoxiously large chrysanthemum. Umbrella theft. A very elegant hat. Extremely strong opinions on hollyhocks. Mistaken identity. Imposters. The worst poetry ever. The motivating power of friendship. A dead bat that apparently was somebody's mother. It's not going to remembered as a Deep Philosophical Novel ever, but that's not what we need from it. It's just fun and joyful and a delight to read.

Even though this is the one book of the series that opens with Psmith in a genuinely difficult situation and relatively low frame of mind following his father's death and the loss of the family fortunes. Psmith has skated by on his father's money for the entire series up to this point, so taking away that kind of invincibility from him was a genius choice on Wodehouse's part. It forces Psmith to grow even further in a way that he never has before. We see him at his most vulnerable; the narrative gives us more of his POV than ever, and there's a marked contrast between what goes on in his head and how he presents himself. And it's at this point that he's finally in a position for something that's never been an option to him before: a romance.

Psmith and Eve's love story would probably not work in real life. But they're in Wodehouse-land, where realism isn't the point. The point is that they are two people who complement each other well and enrich each other's lives and need each other. They're both clever and dynamic and adventurous and alone in the world. She appreciates his eccentricities, which provide the excitement she craves. He appreciates her listening skills and sympathetic nature. She's warm-hearted and impulsive; he's a calculating thinker--and they balance each other out. Each has a brand of weird that works well with the other's. It takes them a little while to get matters resolved, but Eve doesn't put up with his nonsense, and he gradually develops the emotional maturity to trust rather than manipulate. When they do get together, it's not because he's done his usual fast-talking. It's a mutual choice.

We don't get to see much of Mike and Phyllis, but it's also clear that they're happy, and it's satisfying to see that Wodehouse gave Mike, the original protagonist of the series, the ending he deserves even if he is no longer in focus and the American audience wouldn't know or care about him from previous appearances. But Psmith cares about Mike a lot. That hasn't changed, and the lengths that Psmith is willing to go to for Mike's sake are endearing. The choice to give Eve a parallel role as best friend to Mike's wife reinforces the significance of this devotion. This entire plot happens because people care very much about Mike and Phyllis Jackson. That's pretty powerful.

This is the end of the series. We never see Psmith again. But it's an ending that leaves the reader satisfied. Psmith is not trapped in an endless loop of growthless status quo for our comedic benefit. We've watched him grow up from the worldweary teenager leaning on the mantelpiece at his detested new school to a joyfully singing young man running through Blandings Castle on his way to meet the woman whom he's about to have a future of adventures alongside. In many ways, he's still his old eccentric self, but his outlook has changed for the better. He's simply, genuinely happy. What more could we wish for him? What more could we hope for ourselves?

#Psmith Pseptember #thanks for waiting for this one #it has been A Week

[animated-moon]

somebody new

for @okkatsudon ’s collab : somebody new ☽ wherein you watch your beloved fall out of love with you

pairing : nanami kento x gn!reader

wc : 1.7k

contains : angst, no happy ending, cheating????, falling out of love

To you, Nanami Kento has always been a perfect man. He was hardworking, caring and possibly the most pleasant man you’ve ever met. He was gentle, yet tough and blunt when he needed to be. He was mature, good with children, and full of patience. He was a man you’d give your life for, your everything. He was the one who was on the receiving end of the soft, muttered “I love you”s, the angry kisses, the cheeky, lighthearted exchange of banter and insults.

Nanami Kento was your world.

Now, imagine someone reaching out a hand, or more like the paw of a demon towards you, pulling that very world you’ve known apart. That someone being your lover himself.

Truly, Nanami Kento was your world, but that was four years ago.

Sometimes, the way he looked at you would be warm, full of security and love. In his eyes, you’d be able to find all the answers you’d be searching for. Maybe that’s why you were drawn to him in the first place.

When you and Kento finally moved in together, he’d quit his job as a sorcerer and left to work in an office instead, wanting to provide a safe future for the both of you. You knew his routine to every second, even how he’d spend almost exactly two minutes and forty seconds brushing his teeth. He too had your schedule memorized, knowing even what the breakfast you’d made said about your mood. After breakfast would come the dressing, and Kento would wear his ties with the funkiest prints on them, depending on the day. Then, he’d kiss you on the forehead before he rushes out of the house, going against time in hopes of catching the earliest bus he possibly could. At that time, it’d be about 7.43am. After 10 minutes or so, you’d head out too, leaving the house empty and cold till your beloved stumbles back in. That was your routine, practically every day. Wake up, wash up, breakfast, get ready, kisses and leave.

It was a day after the next, with your morning routines happening without fail. Maybe it was because you’ve both started to get busier, but at some point, your lover had broken the routine, running out of the house almost immediately after he got dressed. Every morning, all you got was a quick “got to go”, the only sentence you’d hear from Kento until his next, “good night”. On the better days, he’d find time to send you some caring texts, giving you false security that your relationship had been heading in a good direction, that his absence was just the hurt before you could get any comfort.

Of course, you’d been utterly wrong.

Day after day, Kento would stay out late. Some nights, he’d simply pass out in his office chair. You tried being the best you could for a man who has only given you his best, choosing to stay silent so as to not contribute to his obvious stress. After all, he’d been doing this for a future with you. On those lonely nights, you’d sit on the couch, flipping through an old magazine while waiting for the blonde man to finally open those doors, maybe even sit down and talk to you.

Before you knew it, the image of Kento’s face almost faded from your mind. All you could remember was him with his back facing you. You’d almost forgotten his soothing voice, how it used to reassure you that everything would be okay. His pretty eyes were devoid of the warmth you knew, and they seemed to look at you… almost distantly, like they were too focused on something else.

Soon, your shared home became cold, even when he was around, and instead of the Kento you always knew, he’d become Nanami.

There were many questions you’d wanted to ask, and quite frankly, you felt like you deserved some answers. Why? When? And who was that colleague he’d been on the phone with practically every day? You knew, no, hoped that Nanami spoke in a hushed tone so that he wouldn’t disturb you, but the way he’d chuckled, the way his voice almost seemed lighter made you think otherwise.

“Hey, Kento,” you called out softly, and the smile on the blonde man’s face dropped almost immediately as he made eye contact with you.

“Yes, dear?” He asked, voice devoid of emotion. You bit your lip harshly and he reached out, tapping your cheek like he used to. For a moment, you’d almost believed that everything was alright. You stopped yourself from basking in the moment, in the affection he’d deprived you of for the past few months. You had to ask the question, the one that’s been gnawing, eating at you.

“Are you cheating on me?”

Nanami’s eyes widened ever so slightly before he whispered into the mic. “Got to go.” You’ve come to realize that he only said that when he felt nervous or jittery, like he didn’t want to be in the situation. When the caller hung up, Nanami placed his phone down before gesturing to the chair beside him. You remained standing, whilst he remained quiet.

“Do you want me to ask again or what?” You asked, snarkier than you'd wanted to be.

“I’m not,” he answered, after an uncomfortable silence. You weren’t sure what else to ask. After all, you’ve got the answer you wanted, and Nanami Kento wasn’t a liar.

“Who is that?”

“Yu. A coworker.”

“Where have you been?”

“At work. I was working overtime as I told you.”

“Do you still love me?”

And you were met with silence.

For the first time in a long while, you truly looked at Nanami. He was tired, yet beautiful even under the fake, artificial light.

“I don’t know.”

You’d almost cursed Nanami in your mind.

“Okay,” you said simply, taking a shaky breath in and walking into your shared room. Well, more like your once shared room. Nanami was practically living in the study whenever he was home. This place where you once called home didn’t feel the same any longer.

After the day, you didn’t speak to him, and he hadn’t made an attempt to interact with you either, so when he’d finally reached out to you after three weeks, you thought that it was time that he wanted to sort it out. Instead, he asked. “When do you want me to move out?”

Your heart dropped so fast that you felt sick in your stomach. No! You wanted to scream. I don’t! “When is good for you?” Nanami scratched the back of his neck, a habit he’d picked up recently.

“I’ve found an apartment, and I’d probably be able to leave by next Friday.”

“Okay.”

“Yup.” Walk away first, dumbass. Don’t let him get to you, don’t let him break your heart even more. Nanami turned his attention from you, almost uncomfortably as he skimmed through the contents of the newspaper. What about us? You wanted to ask, but by next Friday, there would not be an “us” anymore.

“Why?” You had to ask. Nanami looked up at you, almost surprised at why you’d ever ask him that. “Why did you fall out of love?” He held your gaze, sighing softly as he tried to give you an answer.

“It’s not your fault,” was the best he could say.

“Then why?”

“I’m a human,” he said, in an as-a-matter-of-fact way. “Humans tend to change.” You knew Nanami was being a jerk on purpose. You’ve been with him for too long to not pick up on it. It was probably best that he didn’t treat you tenderly, so as to not give you any thoughts.

“I see,” you replied simply, then turned on your heel and left.

The following Friday, you stayed in the bedroom, not bothering to help Nanami with his baggage when you heard that melodic voice resounding in the living room.

“Ken-kun, it must be a lot to break up with your partner this way. Are you really alright?” They spoke, and you awaited the blonde man’s response. Besides, were they on first-name basis?

“It’s quite alright, Yu-san. I’ll be alright.”

As the door slammed shut, you never heard from Nanami Kento again.

…

You sat up, sighing as you slipped out from beneath the warm covers. Winter was not a fun time, with how the air even became drier. You walked to the mirror, barely awake as you brushed your teeth, counting every second in the two minutes and forty seconds.

Breakfast was made, and you dressed up appropriately for the winter, checking the clock for the time, 7.53am before heading out. You were supposed to meet up with Gojo today, the reason being that it’d been just about four years since you last met.

Tokyo was beautiful, a thin sheet of white topping everything in view. You liked it, the snow being thick enough to crunch but not thick enough to melt and seep into your clothes.

You stood at the supposed meeting spot, waiting for the tardy, lanky man and gripping the scarf you had closer to you. The dull yellow colour on it was familiar, warm, and something you related as too good to be true.

Just like the voice that was calling out your name.

In front of you was Nanami Kento, cheeks rosy from the cold and slightly panting. His hands hung by his side, his gloves the colour you said would look perfect on him all those years ago.

“It’s been long,” he said, something akin to wisdom in his voice.

“It has,” you replied breathlessly, tears starting to well in your eyes from frustration. You wanted to shout at him for what he did since you didn’t manage to do it then. Yet, when he stood right there, all the pent up feelings dissipated, and all you wanted to do was to run into his arms again. You knew he could never be yours again.

To you, Nanami Kento has always been a perfect man, and just maybe, he always will be one.

#@ moondust ! #nanami angst #nanami kento #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami jjk #nanami kento jjk #fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk angst #jjk x you

[catreginae]

Thou Shalt Not Fall - The Past: Homecoming

Link, Mask, and Tune all return from the final battle with Cia, but Link doesn't seem to be feeling better.

TW: somebody intentional his hands, although the reason has nothing to do with emotional distress or mental illness. To skip this paragraph, it starts with "Mask could only watch in stunned silence". Just jump to the next paragraph and you should be okay (but do tell me otherwise!).

This is the start of something I call 'The Past Arc' because I am Very Original and Very Creative. This was what the people on Tumblr voted for. It's slated to have four parts but I am not good at estimating. Also, sorry in advance for typos - I've been working on this chapter on and off for like six months and I'm a little tired of looking at it.

When Time was a child, a child who was simultaneously a mature adult who saw too much of the world and a child who felt too small for it, he met two other Heroes named Link.

The first kept his name, since he and the other Link, an older kid in blue, were unintentional guests and that was putting it mildly. He was dubbed Mask, for the masks he carried, and the other was called Tune, as he was a conductor and liked to hum or sing to himself when he was bored. Mask became close to both of them. He viewed both of them as the Hylian brothers he never had and even though he tried not to become attached to people he would have to leave, he loved them both.

But much to his annoyance, those bonds had to be tested, because after his final battle with Cia, Link started acting strangely.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mask didn't notice anything until a few days after the fight, when they first returned to the castle. Zelda let the three Links stay in the castle, as Tune and Mask didn't have a way to return home as of yet and Link said the barracks were his home and Zelda decided that wouldn't do. Tune and Mask shared a room and Link stayed in a separate one down the hall, somewhere between their room and Zelda's office. The room was far too large and lavish for Mask's taste, with two of the biggest beds he ever saw, covered with blankets that seemed precious for him to use. There were chests that he and Tune could fit inside of just for clothes, some giant table with an attached mirror that was painted white, and there was even an balcony outside. Although he couldn't see himself spending much time in the room, he picked a bed as soon as the room was offered the room and slept through the morning, staying in bed until about nine in the morning. Tune woke up a bit earlier than he did.

Link on the other hand, didn't get up until well past three in the afternoon.

Mask and Tune found him with his face buried in the pillow, his hair sticking up in all directions. Mask was pretty sure he was drooling, surely a sign of how deeply asleep he still was. Tune started laughing while Mask just huffed at him, deciding to try to shake Link awake. Proxi came out from a pile of fabric on the beside table that Mask soon recognized as Link's scarf and went straight to him.

“I'm glad you two are here! No matter what I do, I just can't wake him up! Impa thought he needed the sleep since hasn't fully recovered from the battle, but this seems... excessive,” she mumbled, her glow dimming slightly.

That made Tune stop laughing. He went over to his bed and climbed on it, since the bed was fairly large and Link was sleeping right in the middle of it. Even with Tune being surprisingly tall and lanky, he wouldn't have been able to really reach without going on the bed. “Hey. It's time to get up,” Tune said, putting a hand on his bare shoulder and shaking him. He didn't respond at first, so Tune did it again.

“Hey! Link!” Mask called out as Tune continued to shake him. Finally, Link opened his eyes, squinting in their direction.

“Link?” Proxi asked.

“Hmmmm. Whatimeisst?”

“Past three in the afternoon,” Mask mumbled.

If nothing else, Link heard that, and immediately bolted up. “Why didn't anyone wake me? And why is so damn bright in here?” he asked as he rubbed aggressively at his eyes. Eventually, he seemed to just settle for digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and keeping them there. Tune scrunched his face, studying Link closely.

“Impa thought you must have needed it,” Proxi answered, fluttering by his head. He lowered his hands and just stared into the covers, his eyelids beginning to fall.

“Are you sick?” Mask asked. He never saw the captain so out of it before. As far as Mask knew, Link's wounds weren't that serious and he was able to walk most of the way back to the castle by himself, but that could change and change quickly. “Maybe we should check your wounds.”

Link didn't respond. Instead, he collapsed against the the pillows, his breathing already deepening.

“I guess he must be,” Proxi muttered.

~+~

Link thought he knew what exhaustion felt like. He knew what it felt like to wake up after after losing a lot of blood. He knew what it felt like to be up all night trying to plan and fight with barely any sleep. This... this felt different. It felt like sleeping wasn't helping at all, that there was something deeper to his exhaustion than amount of sleep he was getting. He never needed so much sleep before and yet, it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sleeping until well into the afternoon, sometimes sleeping until dinner, wasn't the only thing that was new.

Mask and Tune were in the kitchens, helping out the chefs as they cooked dinner. Their way home had yet to appear and while they didn't want to say goodbye, it was making the two of them antsy and eager to just do... something helpful. They both agreed that it couldn't be good if they were still around, especially since most of the time displaced heroes already went home. For some reason, it was them, Ravio, and a nice girl named Marin that was still sticking around. If their work was done, surely they would have been allowed to return like the others.

Tune was singing what he called a shanty to himself, not at all shy about who was listening. He was the only one in the room who knew the words but Mask and the chefs hummed along to it. It was actually kind of fun, even if Mask had to stand on a stool to reach the counters and all he was allowed to do was stir the pot. Usually, he would be more bothered but considering he never did learn how to cook after all this time, he was actually perfectly happy stirring the pot. The only thing that bothered was the fact that at one point, he could have reached the counter without the stool.

Suddenly, the door opened and Link wandered inside.

“Ah, Link! What can we do for you?” one of the chefs, an older lady with her greying hair tied into a bun.

“Mind if I just look around?”

“Sure!” She sounded happy but Mask didn't miss the confusion laced in her voice. “Just don't get in the way.”

He nodded and entered the room. Mask, making sure he was still stirring the pot, watched as Link opened cabinets, dug through the pantry, and even disappeared into the cool room. He was clearly looking for something and apparently, he couldn't find it. That was until Link suddenly emerged from the cool room with a slab of raw meat in his hands.

“Mind if I take this?”

The chefs looked at him as if he grew a second head. He took their stunned silence as a 'yes' apparently, because he thanked them and walked away.

Mask later learned from Proxi that Link actually just... ate it like that. Raw and chewy.

Tune was strangely calm about it. In fact, he had the same look on his face that Link usually did when he was trying to figure out a plan.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The raw meat helped. It wasn't exactly what he was craving but it was a lot closer than anything else he tried to eat. Still though. It wasn't right. It wasn't what he wanted needed. What was it though? What did he need? Why was he always hungry? It didn't matter how much he ate, he was never full. His stomach became a never-ending pit.

He was hungry. So hungry...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Link suddenly had a lot more sun burns than usual.

During those days where Link was awake in the afternoon, Mask, Tune, and Proxi always tried to take him out to spar to get some exercise and fresh air. He was starting to spend a lot of time cooped up inside, spending most of his time in his room scrutinizing documents and notes, looking for something that was off although what that could be, Link didn't say. Mask didn't know what he was looking for and not even Link seemed to know what he was looking for, aside from 'something not right'. However, with some careful phrasing and appeals to the tactical side of him, they managed to get him outside to practice a couple of hours a day.

And at first, it went great. Link didn't go easy on either of them. If anything, he seemed a little stronger than usual, putting more force behind his attacks than normal. Oh, he hated the idea of them being on the battlefield but in a spar, he went all out.

After the first day, his cheeks were bright red and Mask' face hurt just looking at him. It was like they were sparring in the Gerudo Desert and not in a military ground with soft grass and dirt. After a couple of days, his face was peeling and strangely bumpy and it was at that point that Tune dragged him into Zelda's office. She quickly disappeared and then came back with a bottle full of something green, which is smothered all over her hands. Link winced as Zelda started rubbing some type of lotion all over his face.

“Ah, Zelda-” he started, hissing in pain as he did so.

“This will help, trust me. How did this happen though?”

Link merely shrugged.

“I'm worried about you, you know. You hardly visit. I barely see you anymore even though we're both in the castle.”

“Sorry.”

“Don't be. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Finally, Link offered a smile. “Yeah, I know.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Link went through every medical document he could find but nothing matched up with the symptoms he was feeling. The exhaustion, the sudden sensitivity of his skin, the craving he couldn't figure out, the constant, gnawing hunger... he couldn't find anything that linked them all together. Why was it so hard to find what was wrong? He supposed he could visit the healers in the castle, but something in his gut told him not to.

Proxi sat on the top of his head, peering down at the documents on his desk.

“Did you find what you were looking for yet?”

“Not yet.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It got to the point where Link refused to leave his room and only Proxi was allowed in. He locked the door to keep everybody out, and he just kept his window open, so Tune and Mask made sure that their window was open to give Proxi another way back into the castle. They were sure that Link wasn't trying to lock her in there, but he was definitely anxious about something.

“He isn't well,” she mumbled as she sat on Mask's shoulder. It was a clear night and Mask wasn't ready to go to sleep yet, so he decided to admire the world from his window. Although there was a bit of space between the castle and the rest of Castletown, like the way it was like in his own era, he could still see lights coming from the town. Or city. It was more like a city. It kind of reminded him of Clock Town.

“In what way?” Tune asked, squaring his shoulders. He had the face that Link would use he was thinking, his eyebrows knitting together and mouth pulled into what Mask thought looked like a thoughtful frown. He couldn't help but to think that maybe Tune knew more about Link's odd behaviour as of late than anybody else. It was almost like he was waiting for something.

“He seems to be in pain and I don't think he's had anything to eat since the raw piece of meat,” she answered. “He's either asleep all the time or awake and fidgety. He's definitely out of it too.”

“Hmm... is he making any unusual noises? Like hissing or growling?”

He definitely knew more. How?

Proxi nodded solemnly. “And his magic feels weird too, like it's tainted or corrupted somehow. Well, it felt like that since we came back from the Valley of Seers but I thought it was because he was exposed to so much of Cia's magic and it would go away after a bit! It's only gotten worse though.”

Suddenly, there was banging down the hall.

“Mask, go get Impa and meet me at Link's door, alright? Make sure she's armed.”

Mask nodded and left the room, ignoring the continuing banging coming from Link's room. He knew Impa wasn't hard to find, she was always with Zelda and Zelda was either in her room and in her office these days. He went to the office first and he was happy to find that the door was open, letting light spill into the hallway. Impa was just beside the doorway in the office as Zelda worked at her desk.

“Mask? What is it?” she asked when she spotted him standing in the hallway.

“There's something wrong with Link,” Proxi answered with a frown. He wished he knew what was wrong but at least Tune seemed to know. Impa looked to Zelda, who turned in her seat to look at them. “He isn't well but we think there's something more serious going on. Tune said that Impa should come armed.”

Zelda bit her lips but she didn't need to be told twice. She was instantly out in the hallway, following Mask and Proxi back to Link's room with Impa hot on their heels, hand on the handle of her giant sword. It didn't take long to reach his room, where the banging ceased but the loud noises inside didn't.

Tune was standing outside with what looked like the curtains in their room, cut into long threads.

“Tune? What's going on?”

“We don't have a lot of time so I'll explain later. We have to make sure he can't hurt himself or anybody else first. Impa, you're the strongest here so you have to hold him down. He'll probably try to attack us.”

Zelda's eyes were glued to the door. She looked completely distraught but took a deep breath and looked to Impa.

“Try not to hurt him too badly.”

“I'll do my best. There's no promises, though.”

“Mask, open the door. Impa, are you ready?”

Impa nodded. Mask gulped and turned the door knob slowly, then pulled the door open. The effect was instantaneous. Mask looked into the room for all of one second before Link was practically flying at him, his eyes a glowing yellow, lips pulled back into a wicked snarl and revealing canines that were far too large. Tune pulled him out of the way just as Impa raised her foot, her foot landing squarely in the middle of his chest. He hit the floor, clearly stunned.

Tune and Impa didn't hesitate to take advantage of it either. Impa sat on his back, settling her legs on either side of his hips and twisting his arms behind his back. He snarled and hissed, trying to buck her off as Tune tied one of his curtain strips around his wrists with some sort of complicated knot. Tune then moved on to his feet.

Mask could only watch in stunned silence, wringing his hands together as Tune withdrew a knife from his boot and used it cut his palm open. He shoved his bloody palm over Link's mouth. Link stopped moving, his eyes now completely focused on Tune's hand.

“Zelda, Mask, tie him up more. Leave one for later,” Tune commanded. Zelda was the only one who moved to follow his instructions, leaving Impa to help her. Mask found that he couldn't move though and he couldn't fight the tears welling up in his eyes either. Dammit, he hated crying, he hated being reminded that he looked like a child, but he was so worried. What happened to Link? Where did the man he regarded as his older brother go? What replaced him?

Thankfully, the snarling and hissing ceased completely as Tune pulled his bloodied hand away.

“What... what happened?” Link asked, his voice hoarse and quiet. His eyes were still yellow, pools of yellow encased in a red ring that Mask hadn't noticed before, but he could recognize the Link he did know within them. At least Link wasn't gone, but who knew how long he would be around for? “Where's Proxi? What's going on?”

Proxi flew, hovering in front of his face. “I'm here Link, don't worry!”

“Link... you're a vampire,” Tune mumbled. “This isn't your fault but we still have to restrain you for the time being. That wasn't nearly enough blood for you. I'm sorry.”

“A what? Somebody tell me what's going on!” he said in a low growl.

“We'll figure out the details later!” Zelda answered, raising her voice slightly. “Link, try to remain calm, alright? Impa, please summon a wagon and a soldier who can keep a secret. There's a noble family made up of vampires and I'm sure they can help.”

Impa nodded and jumped to her feet, stepping over Link and running past Mask, who was still just standing there, his feet glued to the ground. He was a hero, he should be able to act under pressure, to move forward even though he was scared. Link needed help and support and Mask just froze.

“Zelda... I'm scared.”

More tears welled up in Mask's eyes. Link sounded so small and vulnerable.

“We know, Link. We know. Just hang in there for us, okay?” Proxi said, pressing a delicate hand on his forehead.

“Impa, I'm trusting you to safely deliver Link to House Donte. Take Tune along with you, he seems to know what's going on. Make the preparations and come back for Link and Tune. Finally, make sure that Donte house knows that we are aware that they have nothing to do with what happened to Link.”

Impa nodded and took off running. Tune stayed behind and moved to sit beside Link, who turned his head away to ignore all of them. Mask almost joined them but instead, he found his eyes focused at the upturn furniture, the documents Link spent the past week studying tossed carelessly on the floor when the desk was flipped over. The curtains were torn, as were the bed sheets. A chair was smashed into pieces. Mask took a deep breath and turned to Zelda.

“I want to go with them.”

She frowned. “I need you to stay here. With Link and Tune gone, we'll need a hero to stay here in case something happens in their absence. The fact that you haven't gone home concerns me. There must be something brewing in the background. We can't afford to relax just yet.”

Mask frowned. As much as he wanted to be there with Link, who was definitely going through one of the scariest and most confusing moments of his life, he could understand Zelda's reasoning too. In a rare moment of clarity in the adults around him, they were seeing past the child-like frame and seeing him for the hero he was and they needed him. It would be tough but he needed to be at the castle.

Link would have Tune, at least.

Proxi left Link's side and zoomed to Mask's side. “Don't worry, Mask! I will stay with you and help keep an extra pair of eyes on the kingdom.”

“What about Link?” he asked.

“I know he would be worried about you and Tune.”

Mask took a deep breath. “Okay. Tune, you have to take good care of him until he gets there, okay?”

Tune nodded and threw up a salute. “You got it!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Zelda, what is a vampire?”

Tune and Impa gagged Link and hauled him away two hours ago and Mask found himself unable to sleep. How could be expected to try and sleep now knowing that Link was struggling and scared? Mask found himself in Zelda's office where Zelda was busy shifting through all the books in her shelves, seemingly trying to find one in particular. Proxi kept her promise and stayed by his side, sitting on his shoulder like she often did when she decided to hang out with him instead of Link.

“They are beings who survive by drinking the blood of other beings,” Zelda answered simply. “They're very rare in Hyrule but they're more common in other kingdoms. They can be very dangerous when they're starving or if they simply don't care about people, but plenty of vampires coexist peacefully with people in other kingdoms.”

Hmm. Interesting. It would explain why he hasn't heard of them in Hyrule but he did travel outside of the kingdom before, and hadn't heard of them there either. He wondered what kingdoms she could be talking about.

“So that noble family then...” Proxi mumbled.

“They are vampires, yes. Vampires can live for centuries so they've risen to the status of nobles simply by staying alive longer than any other family. They share their wealth and title with a Hylian family to hide though, so most people in Hyrule wouldn't know that vampires live there.”

“And you're sure they can help Link?”

“They have no other choice. Both of us want to keep the existence of vampires away from the public, so they will have to help him if they want him to keep their secret,” Zelda said quietly as she finally seemed to have found the book she was looking for. “This is a book about vampires, although this was written from the perspective of getting rid of them... but it might still be helpful. It came from Holodrum but it was translated into Hylian.”

“You just have a book on vampires just sitting on your shelf?” Proxi asked.

“I got this library from my grandmother,” Zelda said with a shrug. “I'll go through it tonight and see if there's anything in here we should know about. Of course, Impa and Tune might also have insights from House Donte. We'll meet up and discuss this when everybody is back.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tune and Impa returned three days later without Link. Mask expected that. There was no way that Link would learn everything he needed to know to navigate his new world in a span of a couple of hours. Neither Tune or Impa said much of the trip, just that the family did take him in and that Zelda's message was delivered.

When two weeks passed though, Mask was starting to worry.

“I'm sure he'll be back!” Proxi said as she spun around his head before settling down on his shoulder. “He wouldn't abandon his friends and he wouldn't abandon the kingdom.”

“I suppose.”

He looked to Tune, who was busy polishing his sword in the room they continued to share. He didn't seem worried at all. Quieter than normal, sure, but he didn't seem to be worried like Mask was. It reminded Mask of how the fact that he didn't seem all that surprised that Link was a vampire. In fact, he was the reason why they could properly restrain Link with minimal injuries to Link. It was like he knew what to what to do before he even saw Link, like he done it before.

“You have future knowledge, don't you?”

Tune sighed. “Yeah. I just don't know how much I can say. This is my present but I know his future.”

Time travel could be strange like that.

“He does come back. I can promise you that. I know this isn't over yet. He won't leave the job half finished.”

“Thank you,” Mask mumbled. It did make him feel a little bit better.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe fanfic #lu warriors #catreginae: thou shalt not fall #self harm #to feed your vampire friend #my writing

[diadxrling]

I posted 2,863 times in 2022

That's 2,863 more posts than 2021!

1,351 posts created (47%)

1,512 posts reblogged (53%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@clownstolemyjokes

@gotthcit-a

@gehcnna

@diadxrling

@infernal-feminae

I tagged 2,855 of my posts in 2022

#horned temptress...[dia] - 1,686 posts

#pleasure is my work...[thread] - 854 posts

#you better pay my fees...[ask] - 704 posts

#time for a drink...[ooc] - 482 posts

#'games' cost extra...[ask meme] - 381 posts

#cameras are always watching...[dash commentary] - 178 posts

#make it quick time is money...[mun talk] - 162 posts

#chains and whips excite me...[aesthetic] - 115 posts

#open - 89 posts

#not just glitz and glam...[musing] - 71 posts

Longest Tag: 130 characters

#also don't be shy with these if we don't have an established ship i would just fill it out with how dia think about the other muse

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

@multicoloredspider-andfriends​ liked for a starter. 

“What are you thinking about?” she asks raising a brow at the taller demon. She wasn’t sure if Angel was just thinking about something or if he was spacing out for some other reason. “Or is that wall just that interesting?” chuckling Dia could understand why the other would space out there wasn’t really anything happening to focus eon anyway. 

20 notes - Posted September 24, 2022

#4

Okay so somebody else pointed this out, but I forgot who and I can’t find the post again, but let’s have a look at this: 

For anyone who doesn’t want to enlarge the image and read, it says: 

Asmodeus Crystals: Allows legal and safe travel to the human world. Given out to succubi by Asmodeus. King of Lust.  Crystals can be shaped into discrete jewelry. Some believe leaving the crystal in a raw state strengthens its magic. 

So this means that traveling to the human world is not something that succubi just can do in general, but instead they need a crystal to do this. Now this opens up two options.

1. Only specific succubi are granted such crystals, probably having to pass specific tests or just meet some criteria. 

2. Every succubus is given one, I would think once they reach maturity, but it maybe be taken away if they break the rules. 

I personally think that the former option is more likely, especially since the book says they are given out by Ozzie himself. I wouldn’t be surprised if only pure succubi (meaning no Imp mixes) were given one and that being successful, like Vero for example, helps you get one. 

I also wouldn’t doubt that even under hellborns there are people lower and higher class so to say. Once again Verosika would be a good example but Fizz works too who are probably both held in way higher regard than a random succubus or Imp. So I don’t think it would be too far fetched to say that those crystals are way easy to obtain when you come from a more successful family. 

This also kinda works if you go with every succubus getting one, since I also wouldn’t put it past hell to just find any reasons to keep those crystals away from people they consider not worthy of them. Maybe even other succubi would take them to have less competition maybe that’s even wanted in a way. Other’s taking out the weak ones only leaving the strong and making sure there is no overpopulation at the same time. 

22 notes - Posted July 31, 2022

#3

[ Art commissioned by the amazing @abracafockyou​ ]

Look at them <3 

22 notes - Posted May 18, 2022

#2

I miss getting anons that ask about my ongoing rps and plot lines, or that just come around to ask my muse something. Fuck I also miss seeing dash commentaries about something stupid my muse is doing, but I get why people don’t do that as often anymore I have held myself back to not intrude on anything as well. 

But I can’t lie, when @lust-sinner and I first started writing and we both got anons asking about it. That was so motivating to me, like yeah of course I loved the threads already but that just made them so much more enjoyable. Seeing an Anon that asked about something my muse was doing at the moment is also so nice, it’s why I have anon on in the first place so people can comment on the shit my muses do without it being IC. 

You know what fuck it.

Like this to give me permission to be that anon for you, I will make a list and then at times come into your inbox and ask a character about something going on with them right now. 

32 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

@baphomct​ from -> xxx

“Well I don’t know her enough to be sure but there were two people her energy changed around which is normally an indicator for it. But it’s in bad taste to tell a possibly involved third party, so you will have to find out yourself. “

It was seen in bad taste to tell another mortal off somebody desires, some succubi even thinking it could curse said love to be doomed to fail if it ever came to be. Though with how Dia had worked things she practically had given away at least one person she suspected without telling directly of course. 

“It’s always the cute and quite ones that have something to hide” she joked not knowing enough about what was going on here to make a serious comment on it. 

“I do not mind at all” of course getting intrigued there was so much a proposition could be so many fun possibilities. 

50 notes - Posted November 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #time for a drink...[ooc]

[notabinarystar]

Oh to be a teenage boy overcoming all my insecurities during one summer break and confessing to my crush in front of the whole town, with the haikus that i wrote myself, the day am moving and probably not seeing her ever again. 

#words bubble up like soda pop #cider no you ni kotoba ga wakiagaru #one can only dream #i resonated with cherry a lot #how he just started to mature into somebody that opened himself to the world and that expressed himself more #anime #netflix #cassie's

[our-gentle-tide]

I know academic hell very well, would an obey me ask with some early game relationship mammon & mc interest you? Thanks if you are interested, they/them pronouns please!

Earlier I thought it would be sweet if mammon beel or Levi has to help mc get over Lucifer’s scary act! Plus how is mc supposed to go on adventures if they’re too busy sweating over pesky things like consequences on the assumption (read: inevitability) Lucifer will ever have to know? I was just thinking that we don’t really canonically see how the mc struggles to adjust, but I imagine suddenly having somebody telling you when you have to be up for breakfast and when you have to be home for dinner and how your location has to be known and how your grades and appearance have to be top knotch and how you need to be escorted around might be a tad bit frustrating. That’s not adding on how intimidating and harsh Lucifer can seem.

Dw about it if you aren’t interested, good luck with finals!

Consciousness (along with a few of my personal hc's on mc's experience)

Wearing: mentions of mental health issues and spoilers

A/n:Dear I am SO interested in this!! You have no idea how much i dislike that the brothers and other exchange students along with the royals (maybe -Barb and Solomon tho) don't see how the mc is stressed out and struggling with the whole ordeal and I may have misunderstood this request but I hope this is what you meant. Also I'm so sorry for the wait love, I hope you enjoy

Reader:Gn!reader

So let's start from the beginning, mc was practically okay with being kidnapped, to another world they didn't know existed, forced to not only stay an entire year in an unknown world to them but also stay with 7 ancient year old beings that act like a toddler having a tantrum if they don't get their toy

Now despite Lucifer being the "mature" one he sure as doesn't know how to deal with things if said person doesn't wanna listen, then realise on threatening, traumatising and scearing the living day lights outta siad person

Going back to the first point, I also believe mc listening and not going against anyone in the beginning was a self defence mechanism or sorta like fight or flight mode except they can't run and they can't fight so they go along with it to keep themselves safe

Putting that aside, I hate that the mc was basically a lab rat for diavolo to see if the brothers can handle having a human live with them

He basically sat on the side, knowing bad things will happen (to the credit of barb) and only interfered when mc's life or physical body was being threatened or in the act of being hurt

As much as I love barb and how dedicated he is to his job and dia, he's a little lot too dedicated, there had to be a limit he can put out, right? Dia would listen to his suggestion I know that, so why KNOW that the human will be killed/threatened instead of stopping it completely?

I don't have much of an opinion on Luke at the beginning other then having a strong feeling he was manipulated to join by Michael

Simeon probably jumped at the opportunity since he wants to make amends with the brothers

Now Solomon, despite half the fandom saying he's shady and only interacts with mc to entertain himself at the start, I disagree, I think he's been helping mc behind the scenes, and tries to seem more open and friendly for mc since they're the only other human there and he understands them more then the others

Mammon is the best out of the brothers, I have to say that but when he talked down on mc when they first met is just a shitty thing tbh,I hc mc only stuck around in the beginning cos he's the safest out of the rest since he's forced to be our guardian

Now has anyone noticed the brothers start to like mc's company and just them as a person WAYY faster then mc themselves?

I believe it's cos of the different perspectives for them and the mc

For example, while they viewed everything happening as part of diavolo's plan to unite the three worlds, mc viewed it as being forced to be around dangerous beings who could snap them like a twig for a year

They started falling for mc's kindness but I think that was just mc playing things safe

You get where I'm going?

On to something else, I only played the game to, if I'm remembering correctly, lesson 18. And throughout all 18 lessons mc has never cried or broke down IN FRONT of anyone in the devildom

I think they keep any negative thoughts or emotions private in fear of doing something wrong cos it'll get Lucifer on their back more then he already is

Lucifer throughout the game has proven to not only mc and the brothers that he can't handle having a human around but also to diavolo, over and over again

He literally bruised/broke our hand during a waltz and mc had to keep in the pain due to them being in public

When the mc starts trusting them slight is after they have all 7 pacts cos just incase they try anything they can order them to stop

Lucifer and belghie will be the last of not just the brothers but all the characters to see mc genuinely relaxed and comfortable around everyone

Ofc I have more but this is too long so maybe there'll be a part two if anyone's interested :)

#obey me x reader #obey me x male reader #obey me headcanons #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #obey me luficer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me beelzebub #obey me luke #simeon obey me #obey me solomon #obey me asmodeus #obey me x gender neutral reader

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics that feature DILF Harry. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) You Make My Heart Beat Like The Rain | Explicit | 6611 words | Sequel 1 | Sequel 2

"You're stunning, eh?" Harry whispers, his Canadian accent thick with lust. It usually slips out when he gets horny because he knows it turns Louis on. Harry presses his lips into the curve of his neck. His hot breath makes Louis shiver. He opens his eyes and sees Harry's bigger, tattooed arms wrapped around him, completely engulfing his smaller frame—and, fuck, maybe he is up for it.

Why does his boyfriend have to be such a fucking DILF? He blames it on a twitter thread he read a few weeks ago.

2) Coldest With The Kiss, Nice With The Cream | Mature | 11136 words

Louis has a thing for older guys, no one knows why but he just does.

Harry is a lonely dad.

And oh, Damien loves yellow a little too much.

3) Give So Much (Not Enough) | Mature | 24610 words

“For my little lion,” Louis slid the smoothie bowl in front of Oscar, letting him dig in with his little hands. “And for daddy.”

He didn’t process the bowl in front of him, the push across the table causing a raspberry to roll off and fall on his lap, because Louis calling himself mummy may make him feel all sorts of mushy emotions, but Louis addressing Harry as daddy was suddenly having a very different effect on him. Since when did Louis saying daddy out loud render him speechless?

“Daddy’s still sleepy, but we’re up bright and early right Ossie?” Louis’ cooing shook him out of his daze. The man coughed, picking the raspberry off his lap and swallowing it with unintentional, and very unnecessary, eye contact with Louis. “Well, is it better than your protein smoothies and why?”

Harry chuckled, spooning another heap of the strawberry banana goodness into his mouth, “Way better sweetheart.”

4) My End And My Beginning | Explicit | 24749 words

When Louis starts as an intern at a new company, he becomes particularly fond of the boss’ five children. And maybe the boss himself as well.

5) I’ll Find A Home Inside Your Heart | Explicit | 25808 words

In awe Louis stared up at him, his eyes wide and his lips parted. “I don’t usually make it a habit to go on dates with my clients,” he breathed.

Harry grinned, his touch light as he carefully swept a strand of hair out of Louis’ eyes. “Make an exception for me?” He asked cheekily, chuckling when Louis rolled his eyes.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Louis snorted and let Harry link their fingers together where they rested on the countertop. Finally, a shy smile crept onto those pretty pink lips of his and with his hands on his hips, Louis jut his chin out. “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Of course, Harry didn’t need to be asked twice.

6) Sedative Duty. | Explicit | 46588 words

Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press,  Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.

7) Somebody To Love | Explicit | 51471 words

A hesitant fist hovers, ready to knock on the hard surface, when suddenly the door swings open revealing a small child with a huge smile plastered on her face.

“You’re here, finally!” She beams up at him, haphazardly brushing her orange hair away from her eyes.

He can’t help but let a grin fill his face at her anticipation. Bunching his pants at his ankles, he crouches down to her level. “You must be Margret.”

“Actually, only my daddy calls me that when I’m in trouble,” she explains with an assertive tone. “So you can call me Margo.”

“Well, Margo, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Louis.”

8) This Is How You Fall In Love | Explicit | 53538 words

When Harry Styles' 16 year old daughter dragged him along to see her favourite artist, Louis Tomlinson, in concert, the last thing he had expected was to be invited backstage. Unaware his life was about to change forever.

9) The Bachelor | Explicit | 53953 words

“Don’t tell me, you’re Lola,” Louis pointed at the little girl and she crowded her father’s leg shyly, sticking her thumb in her mouth.

Harry chuckled lightly and cupped the back of her head with a large palm, his calloused hands catching the fine strands of her hair.

“She’s shy,” Harry told him. “Plus you swore mighty loud…M'Harry by the way,” he stuck his free hand forward, his diction belying his way of life- slow and casual.

The somewhat dainty-looking loud-mouth flicked a look to his hand, then back to his face. Harry waited patiently for him to take it.

“Louis,” he finally shared, clasping Harry’s hand with his smaller one and giving it a gentle squeeze, placing his other over the top of both of theirs. “Tomlinson,” he added. “I’m your personal assistant,” he added.

10) Ever I Saw | Explicit | 58342 words

Daisy Road Ranch.  A place for those in need to receive the help they deserve, even when they may not believe it.  A place where they don’t have to fear what, or whom they left behind.  A place where they can find themselves, or find a different way of coping with their issues.  Daisy Road Ranch.  A therapy ranch for those who’ve been abused.

Louis needs to find himself again.  Harry wants to help.  Can they find their way?

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp fic recs #dilf harry

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 23)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6,000

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage |

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

+ + +

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity. 

Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character, 

for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way, 

not for their own benefit, but for others.”

+ + +

It starts in his fingers, a feeling of hot tingles and sporadic static. He plays with the condensation of the glass, gathering the wetness on the tips of his digits until they are completely numb from the cold. The hot tingles and static dissipate momentarily until they move up his arms and into the cavity where his heart beats.

It beats for the way you waltzed into the room, smelling like sweet strawberries and your shampoo. 

It beats for the way it continues to ache and hope to feel your touch again.

If he’s quiet enough, he could hear it, too. It thumps away in his head, making his temples pulse and his palms sweat. He rubs the palm of his hand against the glass, too.

He looks up, dark eyes meeting your figure in your shared bedroom. Memories of the last few months fill his brain with a strong ripple of serotonin, gaze drifting towards the messy, fresh out the dryer, white sheets. 

He’s feeling too much. It must be why he feels like he’s having a heart attack and why his mouth is insanely dry.

His eyes flicker back up to you again, and for a fraction of a second, he considers saying something.

Bucky doesn’t talk about his feelings much. 

He always held it down. 

He didn’t talk about how he felt when he watched his sister being taken from him, or when either of his parents died and he in result became an orphan. 

Not much has changed since then, he thinks as he keeps looking at you.

You were moving around, unaware of his inner turmoil.

Bucky is fully convinced that no one on this earth detests him more than he detests himself. Not only does he hate himself for the things he’s done, but he can’t stand how he’s unable to talk about his feelings when he knows he needs to. 

He can’t stand how weak he is and how he doesn’t have the guts to face it. 

He’s watching you and he wants to speak up, but he can’t.

He detests himself for always running away from facing his demons. 

This had a lot more to do than you going on a date. This was about everything. He knows there’s so much he needs to tell you.

He just wishes it were a lot simpler. 

He doesn’t dare compare his issues to yours. 

He knows each person has their own demons and their own complications to conquer, so he doesn’t dare compare. But, sometimes, he can’t help but think he is the world’s most horrible person, through no fault of his own.

Why couldn’t he have been stronger? Why couldn’t he have stopped himself from getting brainwashed? Why couldn’t he stop himself from doing all the things that he did?

Nobody knows what it’s like to live with the memories of being forced to train young girls who were taken from their families to fight for the KGB, one of them who later turns out being your friend. Not to mention then also shooting the same girl through the stomach on a bridge in Odessa. Nobody knows what it’s like to be forced to put a bullet between countless of innocent people’s eyes, some being young kids, cutting their innocent lives short. 

Nobody understood what it was like to then be forced to kill someone’s parents, the same person who’s teams then welcomes you decades later into their home as family. 

He experienced all of it without one goodbye to his blood family. 

It doesn’t make sense to him how no one else could see what was going through his mind. Maybe he was messed up to the point where he could no longer be okay ever again. 

Maybe.

But you, you had woken something inside of him that he thought had been long gone. You gave him a longing for communication, to talk about how he was feeling. For the first time in over half a century, because of you, he sees a potential light at the end of the tunnel.

You didn’t treat him like an ex assassin, a veteran, an avenger, or just a friend. You treated him like an imperfect man, taking him into your arms in spite of that.

Unbeknownst to you, you had taken his broken heart in your hands and held it tenderly, like a mother holding a newborn child. You taught it how to be happier, you taught it self forgiveness and preservation. You showed him how to be human, how to feel human desires that for so long he had held down. 

He continues to watch you, swelling hard.

You showed me that it was okay. He thinks to himself.

You were his friend for much longer than you ever knew, and you had no idea.

He needed you more than you realized. 

But you were right. It was time to let you be truly happy. After all, how could someone like him make you happy? You made it clear to him, time after time, that you’re both toxic together. He knows most of it was his fault, but he had changed. Unfortunately so had you and your feelings were just platonic now. It was a mess. Both of you, together, was a mess.

The amount of orgasms you shared don’t even make up for the hurt you’ve put each other through.

That’s what he needs to tell himself as he watches you from the living room, pulling the wool scarf tight around your neck to hide your tattoo, and tightening the lightweight white coat over your shoulders. 

You were wearing a mid length dark red dress and short black heels. You looked great. The small smile your wore complemented you well, too. You looked happy.

Bucky knows he has no right to feel what he does as he watches you go back into the bathroom to touch up your hair.

It was a quarter past seven and the sun was setting. If this was two weeks ago, you two would probably be having sex right about now. 

It had become routine after a certain point. He would probably have you bent over the sink, leaving finger indents on your hips. 

Not anymore. That was over.

Ironically, it wasn’t even want he wanted to do with you as he watched you walk back in. He just wanted to grab you, run his hand through your hair and kiss your forehead. 

The thought of wanting to do such a pure act catches him off guard and he feels a tightness in his chest grow hot. There was the static again in his fingers. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours. We’re just going to have dinner at his place.” You say, slowly stepping into the lit living room.

Bucky’s on the sofa and you watch as his eyes leave yours to obviously linger down your body. 

He clears his throat, reaching for the glass of water on the coffee table.

“Be safe.” He says softly. 

You watch as he takes a sip of the water, his eyes meeting yours again over the glass. There’s a pull inside of you that wants you to ask him if he was okay.

“You’ll be okay here?” 

He gives a curt nod, avoiding your eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” His tone is hard and straight to the point, but something was still clearly off with his behavior. 

He’s been acting weird since a few days ago when you told him about Pietro.

You start playing with the sleeve of your coat, clearly stalling. 

He had to open up to you.

“You have food?” You ask. The edge of Bucky’s lip perks up. You’re thankful for the almost smile.

“Yes.”

You watch him for a few more seconds. The mundane exchange is almost comical.

“I gave you his address, right? Just in case?”

Pretty blue eyes narrow at you curiously. 

“Yes, I have it right there.” Bucky says, pointing over to the dining table below the blue A.I glow.

“Okay.” you say, nodding slowly, “Okay, I’ll see you later then.” 

Bucky doesn’t say anything as you leave. He leans his elbows on each of his knees, bringing both his clasped hands together up to his chin. 

He wants the static to go away. He wants to tell you everything.

He takes in a deep breath and runs a metal hand through his hair.

No, I wasn’t going to be okay without you here. 

He picks up the control off the table and starts season nine of Friends. 

It was going to be a long night.

+ + +

You were nervous. This was your first date. 

Ever.

You also didn’t know what to expect from tonight. Sure, you liked Pietro. He was sweet, a good guy, and he was attractive. You wanted to give it a try. You were done being dragged down by one man that didn’t even love you the way you did. 

It was time to move on.

Three soft knocks is how long it takes for the dark blue door of apartment 8C to swing open.

You’re immediately welcomed by the scent of something delicious and Pietro’s warm and bright smile.

“Hey, you.” He says with a delighted perk in his voice. He swings the door open wider for you to walk through, “Come in.”

Timidly, you walk into his inviting home. 

The walls were beige and he had dark brown wooden floors. They were glossy instead of matte. To the left was a small kitchen with black cabinetry, and in front of you a small living room with a television and a black cotton couch.

You didn’t miss the hallway towards the far left the most likely led to a bedroom and bathroom.

Bedroom.

You feel your throat close up.

You were nervous.

“May I take your coat?” He asks sweetly, stretching out a hand to you. Your eyes go from his hand to his own eyes and his smile is contagious, “I’m just going to hang it in the closet. I won’t let it run away. Promise.”

You chuckle.

You give him a short nod, shrugging off your coat and handing it to him. 

“Thank you.” You say.

There’s a small pause of silence.

“Wow, you look amazing.” He says quietly, taking in your dress. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you and you knew he was being sincere. You smile. “Do you want me to take your scarf, too?”

You instinctually reach for your scarf before pausing, your hands lingering on the fabric a bit longer than casual, “I’ll keep it,” your eyes meet and he squints at you, “It’s supposed to go with the dress.” You say quickly on your feet.

He tilts his head at you and chuckles.

“Okay. Well,” he looks down at his hand still holding your coat, “I’m just going to go hang this up. Feel free to to look around for a few seconds.” 

You nod again, watching as he walks to a small closet towards the right, passed the tv.

You look over into the kitchen, and you see a neatly set table with two glass of wine. 

There’s a pot on the stove with the lid on it, but the stove isn’t on.

You feel a warm and inviting hand on your upper back.

“I made, or should I say, I attempted,” he adds a chuckle that makes you smile, “to make some chicken parm.”

You giggle.

“I’m sure it’s delicious.”

You both walk over to the table which isn’t that far to the side and he pulls out one of the chairs for you. You thank him politely, taking a seat.

There’s the sharing of shy glances and awkward feet hitting each other under the table. You mutter out sorry’s.

Pietro clears his throat when he remembers he forgot the plates. You smile again as he apologizes and gets up.

“I’m the worst.” He says quickly.

“You’re not, relax. I forgot, too.” You play with the glass on the table, vividly remembering Bucky doing the same not too long ago.

You were picking up each others habits, hard.

“So, how’s it going with the whole situation at home? With your friend?”

You’re caught off guard by the indirect mention of Bucky and you try to casually grab the white napkin off the table, laying it over your lap.

“It’s going better.” You say, hoping it’ll make Pietro cut the topic short.You smooth the fabric over your legs, picking at it.

He looks over his shoulder to you and you can feel his eyes on you.

“Really? That’s good. I’m happy to hear that. I know it was rough for you. I hated seeing you like that.” That makes two of us, you want to say. There’s another pause. “You’re quiet today.” He notes, placing your plate in front of you. You’re hit with an intense wave of nausea as the delicious smell peaks up into your nose. You look away from the plate swallowing hard, “You okay?”

You clear your throat and swallow and swallow.

“Yeah I’m fine,” the bile lays in your belly as the smell continues to drive into your head, making you dizzy and sweat, “Do you have some water?” You croak out, trying to push your chair a little away from the table. It scrapes angrily against the floor, and if it wasn’t for how sick you were feeling, you would be apologizing.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He says quickly, moving around the kitchen and fixing you a glass.

He hands it to you and you take some heavy gulps. It’s cold and slices through your throat. It lays into your stomach uncomfortably but you prefer it over a dry and heavy tongue. 

You place it back down on the table, taking a deep breath. You feel the sweating start to dissipate and your stomach slowly settles.

You bring your palm to your head and quickly blink away. 

You hated throwing up.

“Sorry, about that.”

He chuckles and gives you a smile as he takes his own seat across from you, “That’s okay. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

You weren’t too sure, but you don’t say that. “Yeah, I don’t know what that was,” you look back down at the plate that begins to look somewhat appetizing again, “Believe me, it wasn’t the food. This smells delicious and looks delicious.” He opens the glass the red wine and offers some to you. You quickly shake your head, giving him a wave of rejection with your hand. Just the thought of wine made your stomach turn again, “I’ll stick to the water for now.” He nods and pours himself a glass, “Sorry if I’m quiet. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Nervous why?”

You shrug, digging a fork into your chicken and swirling it around.

“I don’t know. I’m just like that.”

He says your name and you stop poking your fork to look up at him, “It’s me. We’ve been friends for a few months now. I’m not some stranger.”

You smile. He was right.

“I know, trust me. It’s just…” you think for a moment and then start laughing, “God, we’re literally on a date, during the apocalypse, like this is just weird, ya know?”

Pietro frowns.

“Apocalypse? We’re safe in here, in these walls. Everyone is safe in here.”

Your smile drops.

You stare at him and begin to wonder if he’s actually being serious. Was the majority of the people in here really convinced that this was it? That everything was perfect? Was Hydra really that capable? Part of you is proud of your parent’s work because you truly were safe because of what they built, but the world was still out there, living. There was still more. This wasn’t supposed to be a permanent solution. 

There were people out there still dying, trying to survive. And these people had no idea, including Pietro.

You realize you’re quickly going into dark territory and you don’t want Pietro digging into what you were trying to say, accidentally blowing your cover.

“You’re right. I don’t know why I said that.” You say quickly. You bring the chicken to your mouth, taking a small and careful bite, “This is so good.” You say after chewing and swallowing.

“I’m glad you liked it. I made some lava cakes for desert, too.”

You laugh.

“Are you a cook?”

“Nah. Just watch a lot of Tiny Kitchen.”

You perk a brow.

“Tiny Kitchen?”

“You’ve never heard of Tiny Kitchen?”

You laugh, placing your fork down on the plate. 

“No, what the hell is it? A small kitchen?”

“Literally what it is. I’ll show it to you afterwards.” 

“Okay.” You grin.

You look down at your plate again, wanting to go in for another bite, but for some reason you just can’t.

+ + +

He doesn’t get past episode three. He can’t. 

Not when all thoughts of you clouded his mind. He knows Pietro is good people, so he’s entirely not concerned about that. 

He knows he’s jealous. He knows that. 

The jealousy mixed in with the anticipation of how the rest of the mission will play out worries him. 

He wanted you home and near him, but since that wasn’t going to happen, he was home by himself, glooming.

He knows he needed a distraction right away so he picks up some of his things from the dining table, slides on a light jacket, and makes his way towards the tower.

He knows the blueprint of the tower already and he’s able to navigate himself into stairwell of the apartment on the top floor. 

After weeks of dissecting, you both found out that Ashens’ father, Ashen, and his mother don’t live here with the boy. For safety precautions, which are obvious why, he’s being housed in under high security and under the supervision of some au pair who is as clueless of his importance as the day is young.

Bucky knows that what he’s about to do borders on breaking boundaries, and downright creepy. 

But this was a situation he would qualify as desperate times comes to desperate measures.

Bucky’s able to bypass security, taking a security outfit off a ‘poor’ victim (he scoffs) as he does soon. 

He’s just outside the boy’s bedroom when he hears the nanny tell Ashens goodnight.

When she’s leaving she tells Bucky in a heavy Bulgarian accent, clearly thinking he’s just a regular guard, that Ashens is about to go to sleep. Bucky keeps his head down and nods.

The clueless ar pair goes the opposite way, presumably to her own bedroom.

Bucky waits a few moments before knocking on the boy’s door.

He hears the little boy give out permission to come in. Bucky opens the door.

The bedroom is plain and depressing. There’s a bed with plain white sheets, a small nightstand, and a large window. There are no toys and nothing that would show any proof that a child resided here. 

The room is not one he would expect for a boy Ashens’ age.

The little boy sits up in bed, his eyes squinting at the figure in his doorway.

“Hello.” The boy squeaks out.

Bucky practically laughs at how easy it was to get here. For a boy they are trying so hard to keep protected from just anyone, it was quite easy ending up just a few feet away from him.

Bucky’s had his fair share of experiences with kids, having a little sister himself. He knows he has to do this differently.

“Hi.” Bucky says lightly, almost too cheerfully.

The boy continues to stare at him as Bucky closes the door behind him, but not letting it close shut just yet.

“Who are you?”

Bucky slowly takes off his halo looking helmet and the boy squints at Bucky’s revealed face.

Bucky tucks the helmet under his arm and smiles.

“Can you keep a secret?”

The boy looks at him for a few more seconds before nodding slowly.

It’s not until Bucky is closer to the boy that his eyebrows shoot up,

“Wait. I know who you are.” Bucky can’t tell if the boy is excited or surprised, but the reaction makes Bucky’s chest swell.

This might go down easier than he expected.

“I -I  was so little when I had the toy but,” the boy starts to talk excitedly and Bucky has to hide a growing smile, “Because I can’t have toys anymore. Not since we moved here. I was little but I remember,” the boy and Bucky both narrow their eyes at each other as if it’s a game to who would say it first, “it’s captain America. You ever heard of captain America?”

Bucky bites his lip. 

“No, never.” He says sarcastically. “Oh, he’s the best. You look like his friend, but I don’t remember his name. He used to be the winter soldier and then he became good.”

Bucky’s heart swells again. The boy’s joy was so pure.

“Oh, yea?”

“Yeah. Dad didn’t like them vey much, though,” his face drops as he looks away from Bucky, “I didn’t like how happy he was when they all died. But no one knows that just us I think,” when Ashens looks up again, Bucky’s face is more solemn this time, “Are you sure you’re not the winter soldier?” The boy whispers the question.

Bucky considers his next words carefully. He places the helmet at the feet of the boy’s bed.

“If I told you I was?”

“I would be surprised because I though you were dead, and also I would be confused. Because why you here?”

Bucky nods. He looks away and then back at Ashens.

“Would you tell your dad?” He asks quietly. This was important.

The boy looks at him for a bit before answering.

“No. He would kill you. Daddy’s not on the good side.”

“And you believe I’m on the good side, right?”

“Yes. You’re an Avenger.”

Bucky bites his lip and looks around the room. This boy was good. It angered him that his own father wanted him killed. Now, more than ever, he wanted to rescue this boy. 

“Can you trust me?” Bucky asks, suddenly serious. 

The boy nods.

“Am I in trouble?” He asks timidly. “What do you mean?” “Ae you here to save me, sir?”

The question broke Bucky’s heart, but he nods.

“I trust you.” The boy’s eyes dart down Bucky’s left side, “Can I feel you arm?” The edge of Bucky’s lips perk up as he takes a seat, “and what does it feel like to hold the shield? Did you really know Iron Man? Black Panther always said —”

+  +  +

By the time Bucky is back you’re already home in your pajamas tucked into bed.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” You ask him as he takes off his coat, draping it over one of the chairs in the dining area.

He kicks off his shoes and reaches back, pulling off his shirt. He walks over to the closet for a new one.

“I met Ashens.”

You raise your brows at this. You knew it was part of the plan to happen, but you didn’t expect it to be today.

“What?”

Bucky also pulls out a new and clean pair of boxers, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah. We spoke for a bit.” “And he didn’t recognize you?” “No, he did,” Bucky says simply, eyes going over to you. You looked so pretty, comforter pulled up under your clothed breasts, a book in your hands, and a messy bun in your hair. He wanted you. He looks away, remembering where you had just been, “He knows I’m here. He won’t tell his dad." “How can you be so sure?” “I’m an Avenger, aren’t I? That’s what everyone tells me, has been telling me.” He says it bitterly. Bucky sighs, closing the closet door and then walking over to the bed near you, “Because I made him a promise that I was here to save him. I think he knows his dad is bad news. He’s a smart kid. He knows his dad hits his mom, too.” Bucky’s voice is soft.

“So you trust he’ll keep this between us?”

“I do.”

You nod. You watch Bucky’s eyes as his stare stays on you, unnerving.

“And you?” You voice shakes as you ask, “How are you? Ya know, after?”

Bucky nods his head.

“I’m alright, ya know? I — ,” something happens to him that you had never seen before. A wave of happiness washes over Bucky’s face like a fresh cup of lemonade. His eyes shine and a bright smile fills his face. Even his voice sounds perkier, “It was just so nice talking to him. He’s such a sweet kid. I know we’re doing the right thing,” his eyes meet yours again and his voice lowers to a deep tone, “We’re both going to walk away from this mission with more than we thought.” It’s the first time he’s said that you are both going to walk away from the mission together, and not just you. He knows that. Bucky clears his throat, “You definitely won’t run into his father. He’s not living with him to avoid attention and possible abductions. Ashens is a literal rapunzel right now.”

“Good. That’s good.” Obviously it wasn’t. But it was good for the both of you. You had less chances of running into Ashen.

Bucky takes in a deep breath when he realizes his eyes are lingering on your collarbones for far too long.

“How was your date?” He actually doesn’t want to even know, the thought of you and Pietro makes him sick, but he knows he needs to show courtesy. They can’t ignore it forever. “It was fine. I wasn’t feeling too well, though—“

Bucky’s eyes narrow.

“—Oh no, I’m sorry.”

 “Couldn’t eat. But,” you took a deep breath and eyed the hallway, "Brought some in a small Tupperware if you want it. It’s in the kitchen.”

Bucky ignores the flutter in his heat at the mention that you thought of him. Thought of him enough to bring the leftovers for him.

He smiles.

“What is it?” “Chicken Parm.” You watch as Bucky continues to watch you, eyes still sparkling. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re happy, right?” Your eyes flicker away for a moment.

“Y-yeah.”

He knows he’s not fine so he lies. 

“Then I’m fine. You looked great by the way.” He adds quickly.

You tilt your head at him and he tilts his back.

Damnit, he needed you.

“Yeah?” You ask hoarsely. 

He wanted you.

“You’re glowing.” He says.

 +  + +

Jazz and burlesque shows were the epitome of everything she had lived for up until she was sixteen years old. The smell of handmade lace garters and expensive perfume still lingered in the back of her mind, bringing her a feeling of contentment and a strange longing for the past. 

Nostalgia would overwhelm her as she looked on at what was the exact contrast to her innocence – her mother’s hugs. She missed those nights where she’d play some 12’s of her beat up vinyl on her record, the scratches adding to Peggy Lee’s voice a twinge of imperfection that made it the perfect tone. 

With nothing on but her undergarments, and a pair of leg garters accompanied with knee high black stockings, she’d open her closet to a huge collection of gorgeous cocktail dresses. A couple handful landed just above her knees, not many past her mid shin - Scandalous and mildly scandalous. Her parents would kill her if they ever found out she even owned them (let alone have them in their home) so she kept those hidden in a little pile in the back corner of the wardrobe. 

She had every right to be terrified for many reasons. It’s not that she was not loyal or a rebel, per say. She was born and raised into a Christian family, all strict rules of modesty and heavy morals applied to her daily life. She was always daddy’s little girl in the simplest sense possible. 

She wouldn’t ever dare roll her eyes at him or purposefully make him disapprove of her, ever. Sure, she was raised in a rich family, so she was used to getting everything she always wanted. Material things being at the top of the list. Even then she remained as humble as possible. 

Especially when she thought her strong faith was behind it all. 

Do well for God, he gives back in return, right?  At least that’s what her naïve self believed at the time. But she’d never admit it to her family that she now thought otherwise, especially to her mom. 

If anything, God was now banning them all to Hell anyway.

Her vanity was those of every girl’s dreams. Drawers filled with everything you could only wish of having. Inside were lingerie of every shade (from fiery red to pure jet black, like the night sky in the city), style, and earrings of every pearl and diamond crystal variety you could think. Her favorite would always be the garters. 

She’d clip each of the four clasps into place just above her knees with her nimble fingers and then she’d sit opened legged in front of the mirror. 

Diligently, and with prestige dexterity, she’d apply her blood red lipstick and her four inch black heels. 

After an o shape with her lips around her fingers and a loud pop, she’d walk around her room and close her eyes, envisioning herself as a burlesque girl and a sensual song playing in the background. After all, she had all the right in the world to be the exact opposite at night than what she was during the day. Morally, at least.

 She still remained as the same sweet, innocent, and faithful young girl she always was. But she had big hopes and dreams, especially in film and dance. God should be okay with dreams, she thought.

When she had learned the truth it was just short of her 20th birthday. She unwontedly found out that her father and brother were different souls at night, too. She wished she never found out that everything that had been lying in front of her had been a lie, and instead of life being a gifted blessing it was instead a bloody carcass hades. 

Their life wasn’t one she liked to admit to partaking in. There were times where she would trick into telling herself that they weren’t doing it. She’d trick herself into thinking that way so that when she saw her dad that night, she’d be able to surpass the strong smell of whiskey and gun powder and kiss him goodnight. 

Jimmy would roll his eyes with a shove past her shoulder.  

As much as she detested it, she knew that without them, they wouldn’t be living in one of the most beautiful homes in all of Manhattan in complete safety. It was because of them that she wasn’t living out in the slums. She tried to divide that part of harsh reality from her brain as much as she could. Eventually, the pros outweighed the cons.

Maybe it was the fact that her body had finally developed into a women’s body. Her breasts were now fully perked and her legs were long and porcelain gorgeous; all she knew was they figured she could be put to good use. 

At first she was repulsed by her own father’s comment, but if it meant having dinner that night and not getting killed, she would swallow those nagging feelings and take it head on. It never lasted too long anyway, and all she had to do was stand there and be her brother’s accessory.

When her father brought her into the business, he told her she would thank him one day when she had children of her own- she’d have all the men of the lower east side wrapped around her pretty little finger.

 She was alright with it, until something happened that she would never forget. She had to swallow the repulsive bile and control herself not to run away then and there. She was too far in and knew way too much.

It was just another Tuesday night and she had been sitting at the dinner table, when both her mom and dad had stepped out of the dining room and into the kitchen. She ate her soup quietly, not being able to stop thinking about going back to her room to play burlesque, when Jimmy had turned to her.

 At first it was the sudden motion that caught her attention, it had made a strand of blonde hair fly off her arm. Then it was the feral look in his eyes. 

“Daisy,” his voice was low and dangerous. Daisy knew that tone very well because it was the tone all the other men used on their nights of missions. She was terrified and disgusted.  Wide eyes trailed from her eyes to her full red lips and she felt a cold rigid finger against the heat of her skin on her upper thigh, pushing the fabric slightly up. She gulped.  

Jimmy smiled, “You gorgeous thing.”

She thought about telling her father but she knew that if he found out, the one partnership that was bringing them the most cash would be jeopardized and it would have to be terminated and he’d be more than upset. She knew when her dad got angry, it was not good. It’s was messy and bad. 

Back at dinner, her father would say grace before they ate, all of them hand in hand, and her mom would sit there quietly, a terrified and exhausted look in her smiles. She had heavy bags that weren’t there years ago, and her hair that used to always be done was now up in a messy clip, the baby hairs hanging against her wrinkled forehead, messy and unruly. But still she managed to smile, even if it wasn’t a real smile. It was all a stupid act. 

 It reminded Daisy of how she herself was when she was 16 - pretending to be oblivious to what her family were doing to the innocent. And so she hated her mom for that, for being just like her. 

She felt disgusted in herself, she felt disgust for her family. Oh how she missed those days of when she was a child, before she even knew the truth. It was all so much simpler back then and she was so much happier.  The worst it used to get was when her mother would tell her stories about when she was a nurse back in WWI. 

She had wanted to be like her mom at first. Her mom was quiet, humble, caring, and extremely gracious. It’s what made her such a good person to have back in the war to help the soldiers- she was strong willed and knew she could help and would in her best ability do so. But those stories made Daisy question why any man in his right mind would want to do such a thing to their own body- putting themselves at such a risk. 

Sure, she was privileged by riches, but problems didn’t have to be solved by violence. There must be other ways, like prayer or simply believing. 

Her mother would tell her the graphic stories of the injuries that made Daisy queasy and fidget in her seat. She loved her mom’s qualities and how willing she was to help others who were injured and almost dying, but it still made no sense to her.

 When daisy questioned her concerned to her mother she had simply said:

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity. Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character, for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way, not for their own benefit, but for others.”

To this day, Daisy wondered if her mom was indirectly referencing her own father- him lacking thereof. 

Next, she wondered about when her mom stopped believing her own words.  

Daisy wondered if she’d ever meet one one day - a soldier. Someone willing to get destroyed. Or if her mom had been lying and all men are the same, evil like her father and brother.

But she was evil, too.

No, I don't wanna fall in love.

A/N: yes. she’s pregnant.

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe ,  @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 ,  @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing​ @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat​ @dragongirl31 @kaitlynisinfinite​ @alwaysclassyeagle

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x you #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #tfatws fanfic #winter soldier

[oscopelabs]

Isn’t Everything Autobiographical?: Ethan Hawke In Nine Films And A Novel by Marya Gates

When asked during his first ever on-camera interview if he’d like to continue acting, a young Ethan Hawke replied, “I don’t know if it’s going to be there, but I’d like to do it.” He then gives a guileless shrug of relief as the interview ends, wiping imaginary sweat off his brow. The simultaneous fusion of his nervous energy and poised body language will be familiar to those who’ve seen later interviews with the actor. The practicality and wisdom he exudes at such a young age would prove to be a through-line of his nearly 40-year career. In an interview many decades later, he told Ideas Tap that many children get into acting because they’re seeking attention, but those who find their calling in the craft discover that a “desire to communicate and to share and to be a part of something bigger than yourself takes over, a certain craftsmanship—and that will bring you a lot of pleasure.”

Through Hawke’s dedication to his craft, we’ve also seen his maturation as a person unfold on screen. Though none of his roles are traditionally what we think of when we think of autobiography, many of Hawke’s roles, as well as his work as a writer, suggest a sort of fictional autobiographical lineage. While these highlights in his career are not strictly autofiction, one can trace Hawke’s Künstlerromanesque trajectory from his childhood ambitions to his life now as a man dedicated to art, not greatness. 

Hawke’s first two films, Joe Dante’s sci-fi fantasy Explorers with River Phoenix and Peter Weir’s Dead Poets Society with Robin Williams, set the tone for a diverse filmography filled with popcorn fare and indie cinema in equal measure, but they also served as touchstones in his development as person drawn to self-expression through art. In an interview with Rolling Stone’s David Fear, Hawke spoke about the impact of these two films on him as an actor. When River Phoenix, his friend and co-star in Explorers, had his life cut short by a drug overdose, it hit Hawke personally. He saw from the inside what Hollywood was capable of doing to young people with talent. Hawke never attempted to break out, to become a star. He did the work he loved and kept the wild Hollywood lifestyle mostly at arm’s length. 

Like any good film of this genre, Dead Poets Society is not just a film about characters coming of age, but a film that guides the viewer as well, if they are open to its message. Hawke’s performance as repressed schoolboy Todd in the film is mostly internal, all reactions and penetrating glances, rather than grandiose movements or speeches. Through his nervy body language and searching gaze, you can feel both how closed off to the world Todd is, and yet how willing he is to let change in. Hawke has said working on this film taught him that art has a real power, that it can affect people deeply. This ethos permeates many of the characters Hawke has inhabited in his career. 

In Dead Poets Society, Mr. Keating (Robin Williams) tells the boys that we read and write poetry because the human race is full of passion. He insists, “poetry, beauty, romance, love—these are what we stay alive for.” Hawke gave a 2020 TEDTalk entitled Give Yourself Permission To Be Creative, in which he explored what it means to be creative, pushing viewers to ask themselves if they think human creativity matters. In response to his own question, he said “Most people don’t spend a lot of time thinking about poetry, right? They have a life to live and they’re not really that concerned with Allen Ginsberg’s poems, or anybody’s poems, until their father dies, they go to a funeral, you lose a child, somebody breaks your heart, they don’t love you anymore, and all of the sudden you’re desperate for making sense out of this life and ‘has anyone ever felt this bad before? How did they come out of this cloud?’ Or the inverse, something great. You meet somebody and your heart explodes. You love them so much, you can’t even see straight, you know, you’re dizzy. ‘Did anybody feel like this before? What is happening to me?’ And that’s when art is not a luxury. It’s actually sustenance. We need it.” 

Throughout many of his roles post-Dead Poets Society, Hawke explores the nature of creativity through his embodiment of writers and musicians. Often these characters are searching for a greater purpose through art, while ultimately finding that human connection is the key. Without that human connection, their art is nothing.

We see the first germ of this attraction to portray creative people on screen with his performance as Troy Dyer in Reality Bites. As Troy Dyer, a philosophy-spouting college dropout turned grunge-band frontman in Reality Bites, Hawke was posited as a Gen-X hero. His inability to keep a job and his musician lifestyle were held in stark contrast to Ben Stiller’s yuppie TV exec Michael Grates. However in true slacker spirit, he isn’t actually committed to the art of music, often missing rehearsals, as Lelaina points out. Troy even uses his music at one point to humiliate Lelaina, dedicating a rendition of “Add It Up” by Violent Femmes to her. The lyrics add insult to injury as earlier that day he snuck out of her room after the two had sex for the first time. Troy’s lack of commitment to his music matches his inability to commit to those relationships in his life that mean the most to him. 

Reality Bites is also where he first positioned himself as one of the great orators of modern cinema.” Take this early monologue, in which he outlines his beliefs to Winona Ryder’s would-be documentarian Lelaina Pierce: “There’s no point to any of this. It’s all just a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know, a quarter-pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle, and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.” 

Hawke brings the same intense gaze to this performance as he did to Dead Poets Society, as if his eyes could swallow the world whole. But where Todd’s body language was walled-off, Troy’s is loud and boisterous. He’s quick to see the faults of those around him, but also the good things the world has to offer. It’s a pretty honest depiction of how self-centered your early-20s tend to be, where riding your own melt seems like the best option. As the film progresses, Troy lets others in, saying to Lelaina, “This is all we need. A couple of smokes, a cup of coffee, and a little bit of conversation. You, me and five bucks.”

Like the character, Hawke was in his early twenties and as he would continue to philosophize through other characters, they would age along with him and so would their takes on the world. If you only engage with anyone at one phase in their life, you do a disservice to the arc of human existence. We have the ability to grow and change as we learn who we are and become less self-centered. In Hawke’s career, there’s no better example of this than his multi-film turn as Jesse in the Before Trilogy. While the creation of Jesse and Celine are credited to writer-director Richard Linklater and his writing partner Kim Krizan, much of what made it to the screen even as early as the first film were filtered through the life experiences of Hawke and his co-star Julie Delpy. 

In a Q&A with Jess Walter promoting his most recent novel A Bright Ray of Darkness, Hawke said that Jesse from the Before Trilogy is like an alt-universe version of himself, and through them we can see the self-awareness and curiosity present in the early ET interview grow into the the kind of man Keating from Dead Poets Society urged his students to become. 

In Before Sunrise, Hawke’s Jesse is roughly the same age as Troy in Reality Bites, and as such is still in a narcissistic phase of his life. After spending several romantic hours with Celine in Vienna, the two share their thoughts about relationships. Celine says she wants to be her own person, but that she also desperately wants to love and be loved. Jesse shares this monologue, “Sometimes I dream about being a good father and a good husband. And sometimes it feels really close. But then other times it seems silly, like it would ruin my whole life. And it’s not just a fear of commitment or that I’m incapable of caring or loving because. . . I can. It’s just that, if I’m totally honest with myself, I think I’d rather die knowing that I was really good at something. That I had excelled in some way than that I’d just been in a nice, caring relationship.”

The film ends without the audience knowing if Jesse and Celine ever see each other again. That initial shock is unfortunately now not quite as impactful if you are aware of the sequels. But I think it is an astute look at two people who meet when they are still discovering who they are. Still growing. Jesse, at least, is definitely not ready for any kind of commitment. Then of course, we find out in Before Sunset that he’s fumbled his way into marriage and fatherhood, and while he’s excelling at the latter, he’s failing at the former. 

As in Reality Bites, Hawke explores the dynamics of band life again in Before Sunset, when Jesse recalls to Celine how he was in a band, but they were too obsessed with getting a deal to truly enjoy the process of making music. He says to her, “You know, it's all we talked about, it was all we thought about, getting bigger shows, and everything was just...focused on the future, all the time. And now, the band doesn't even exist anymore, right? And looking back at the... at the shows we did play, even rehearsing... You know, it was just so much fun! Now I'd be able to enjoy every minute of it.”

The filming of Before Sunset happened to coincide with the dissolution of Hawke’s first marriage. And while these films are not autobiographical, everyone involved have stated that they’ve added personal elements to their characters. They even poke fun at it in the opening scene when a journalist asks how autobiographical Jesse’s novel is. True to form, he responds with a monologue, “Well, I mean, isn’t everything autobiographical? I mean, we all see the world through our own tiny keyhole, right? I mean, I always think of Thomas Wolfe, you know. Have you ever seen that little one page note to reader in the front of Look Homeward, Angel, right? You know what I'm talking about? Anyway, he says that we are the sum of all the moments of our lives, and that, anybody who sits down to write is gonna use the clay of their own life, that you can’t avoid that.”

While Before Sunset was shot in 2003, released in 2004 and this monologue refers to the fictional book within the trilogy entitled This Time, Hawke would take this same approach more than a decade later with his novel A Bright Ray of Darkness.

In the novel, Hawke crafts a quasi-autobiographical story, using his experience in theater to work through the perspective he now has on his failed marriage to Uma Thurman. Much like Jesse in Before Sunset, Hawke is reluctant to call the book autobiographical, but the parallels to his own divorce are evident. And as Jesse paraphrased Wolfe, isn’t everything we do autobiographical? In the book, movie star William Harding has blown up his seemingly picture-perfect marriage with a pop star by having an affair while filming on location in South Africa. The book, structured in scenes and acts like a play, follows the aftermath as he navigates his impending divorce, his relationship with his small children, and his performance as Hotspur in a production of Henry IV on Broadway. 

Throughout much of the novel, William looks back at the mistakes he made that led to the breakup of his marriage. He’s now in his 30s and has the clarity to see how selfish he was in his 20s. Hawke, however, was in his forties while writing the book. Through the layers of hindsight, you can feel how Hawke has processed not just the painful emotional growth spurt of his 20s, but also the way he can now mine the wisdom that comes from true reflection. Still, as steeped as the novel is in self-reflection, it does not claim to have all the answers. In fact, it offers William, as well as the readers, more questions to contemplate than it does answers.

The wisdom to know that you will never quite understand everything is broached by Hawke early in the third film in the Before Trilogy, 2013’s Before Midnight. At this point in their love story, Jesse’s marriage has ended and he and Celine are parents to twin girls. Jesse has released two more books: That Time, which recounts the events of the previous film, and Temporary Cast Members of a Long-Running But Little Seen Production of a Play Called Fleeting. Before Midnight breaks the bewitching spell of the first two films by adding more cast members and showing the friction that comes with an attempt to grow old with someone. When discussing his three books, a young man says the title of his third is too long, Jesse says it wasn’t as well loved, and an older professor friend says it’s his best book because it’s more ambitious. It seems Linklater and company already knew how the departure of this third film might be regarded by fans. But it is this very departure that shows their commitment to honestly showing the passage of time and our relationship to it. 

About halfway through the film Jesse and Celine depart the Greek villa where they have been spending the summer, and we finally get a one-on-one conversation like we’re used to with these films. In one exchange, I feel they summarize the point of the entire trilogy, and possibly Hawke’s entire ethos: 

Jesse: Every year, I just seem to get a little bit more humbled and more overwhelmed about all the things I’m never going to know or understand. 

Celine: That’s what I keep telling you. You know nothing!

Jesse: I know, I know! I'm coming around! 

[Celine and Jesse laugh.] 

Celine: But not knowing is not so bad. I mean, the point is to be looking, searching. To stay hungry, right?

Throughout the series, Linklater, Delpy, and Hawke explore what they call the “transient nature of everything.” Jesse says his books are less about time and more about perception. It’s the rare person who can assess themselves or the world around them acutely in the present. For most of us, it takes time and self-reflection to come to any sort of understanding about our own nature. Before Midnight asks us to look back at the first two films with honesty, to remove the romantic lens with which they first appeared to us. It asks us to reevaluate what romance even truly is. 

Hawke explores this same concept again in the 2018 romantic comedy Juliet, Naked. In this adaptation of the 2009 Nick Hornby novel, Hawke plays a washed-up singer-songwriter named Tucker Crowe. He had a big hit album, Juliet, in the early ‘90s and then disappeared into obscurity. Rose Bryne plays a woman named Annie whose longtime boyfriend Duncan is obsessed with the singer and the album, stuck on the way the bummer songs about a bad breakup make him feel. As the film begins, Annie reveals that she thinks she’s wasted 15 years of her life with this schmuck. This being a rom-com, we know that Hawke and Byrne’s characters will eventually meet-cute. What’s so revelatory about the film is its raw depiction of how hard it is for many to reassess who they really are later in life. 

Duncan is stuck as the self-obsessed, self-pitying person he likely was when Annie first met him, but she reveals he was so unlike anyone else in her remote town that she looked the other way for far too long. Now it’s almost too late. By chance, she connects with Crowe and finds a different kind of man.

See, when Crowe wrote Juliet, he also was a navel-gazing twentysomething whose emotional development had not yet reached the point of being able to see both sides in a romantic entanglement. He worked through his heartbreak through art, and though it spoke to other people, he didn’t think about the woman or her feelings on the subject. In a way, Crowe’s music sounds a bit like what Reality Bites’s Troy Dyer may have written, if he ever had the drive to actually work at his music. Eventually, it’s revealed that Crowe walked away from it all when Julie, the woman who broke his heart, confronted him with their child—something he was well aware of, but from which he had been running away. Faced with the harsh reality of his actions and the ramifications they had on the world beyond his own feelings, he ran even farther away from responsibility. In telling the story to Annie, he says, “I couldn’t play any of those songs anymore, you know? After that, I just... I couldn’t play these insipid, self-pitying songs about Julie breaking my heart. You know, they were a joke. And before I know it, a couple of decades have gone by and some doctor hands me... hands me Jackson. I hold him, you know, and I look at him. And I know that this boy. . . is my last chance.”

When we first meet Crowe, he’s now dedicated his life to raising his youngest son, having at this point messed up with four previous children. The many facets of parenthood is something that shows up in Hawke’s later body of work many times, in projects as wholly different as Brooklyn’s Finest, Before Midnight, Boyhood, Maggie’s Plan, First Reformed, and even his novel A Bright Ray of Darkness. In each of these projects, decisions made by Hawke’s characters have a big impact on their children’s lives. These films explore the financial pressures of parenthood, the quirks of blended families, the impact of absent fathers, and even the tragedy of a father’s wishes acquiesced without question. Hawke’s take on parenthood is that of flawed men always striving to overcome the worst of themselves for the betterment of the next generation, often with mixed results. 

Where Juliet, Naked showed a potential arc of redemption for a father gone astray, First Reformed paints a bleaker portrait. Hawke plays Pastor Toller, a man of the cloth struggling with his own faith who attempts to counsel an environmental activist whose impending fatherhood has driven him to suicidal despair. Toller himself is struggling under the weight of fatherhood, believing he sent his own son to die a needless death in a morally bankrupt war. Sharing the story, he says “My father taught at VMI. I encouraged my son to enlist. It was the family tradition. Like his father, his grandfather. Patriotic tradition. My wife was very opposed. But he enlisted against her wishes. . . .  Six months later he was killed in Iraq. There was no moral justification for this conflict. My wife could not live with me after that. Who could blame her? I left the military. Reverend Jeffers at Abundant Life Church heard about my situation. They offered me a position at First Reformed. And here I am.” How do we carry the weight of actions that affect lives that are not even our own? 

If Peter Weir set the father figure template in Dead Poets Society, and Paul Schrader explored the consequences of direct parental influence on their children’s lives, director Richard Linklater subverts the idea of a mentor-guide in Boyhood, showing both parents are as lost as the kid himself. When young Mason (Ellar Coltrane) asks his dad (Hawke) what’s the point of everything, his reply is “I sure as shit don’t know. Nobody does. We’re all just winging it.” As the film ends, Mason sits atop a mountain with a new friend he’s made in the dorms discussing time. She says that everyone is always talking about seize the moment—carpe diem!—but she thinks it’s the other way around. That the moments seize us. In Reality Bites, Troy gets annoyed at Lelaina’s constant need to “memorex” everything with her camcorder, yet Boyhood is a film about capturing a life over a 12-year period. The Before Trilogy checks in on Jesse and Celine every nine years. Hawke’s entire career. in fact, has captured his growth from an awkward teen to a prolific artist and devoted father, a master of his craft and philosopher at heart. 

#ethan hawke #boyhood #before trilogy #before midnight #before sunset #before sunrise #reality bites #first reformed #dead poets society #a bright ray of darkness #film writing #film essay #musings #oscilloscope laboratories

[theres-a-goldensky]

30 More The Untamed Fic Recs

Here we go again. Another Wangxian rec list. Are you bored of me yet?

Were these recs helpful to you? If so, you can check out my other Wangxian rec posts:

Part 1 - 40 recs

Part 2 - 23 recs

Part 3 - 23 recs

As ever, feel free to reblog.

You can also head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

(All recs are complete) (I’ve noted pairings, length, and rating, but not any warnings or additional tags.)

** denotes personal favorite

1. say it's here where our pieces fall in place by Lirelyn - ~69,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Lan Zhan meets Wei Wuxian after he adopts a small A-Yuan, because Wei Wuxian also has a past with him. Lots of adorable family feelings and emotional hurt/comfort.

As often happened, Wei Ying’s voice preceded his entrance, calling to his co-worker through the open door, “Frankie, they forgot to order spoons again, can you hold down the fort a little longer while I —”

Lan Wangji was already looking to his entrance, head turning as if magnetized toward the voice, so he saw the moment when Wei Ying’s eyes landed on A-Yuan and the smile fell from his face. He looked stricken, and Lan Wangji immediately looked to his son in alarm. A-Yuan seemed fine. His small eyebrows were pulled together in a small frown as he looked back at Wei Ying, but that wasn’t surprising, given the expression on Wei Ying’s face. Lan Wangji had seen that face beaming, laughing, whining, wheedling, and occasionally angry, but never like this. He looked blank and hollow and it stirred something fierce in Lan Wangji: he wanted to rise up and obliterate whatever was making him look like that. Then his eyes lifted to Lan Wangji and there was a flash of something almost like betrayal, before he pressed his lips together and turned his back.

“I’m going to run out to the store and get spoons,” he said in a flat voice to his co-worker, and left without looking their way again.

2. the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships - ~41,000 words, mature - This is an AU of the novel where Wei Wuxian puts two and two together when Lan Zhan sneaks that kiss from him. It changes a lot of things.

Against his own will, Wei Wuxian found himself glancing at Lan Wangji’s hands. They were… certainly large enough that one of them could wrap around both of his wrists. And Lan Wangji was certainly strong enough, tall enough, broad-shouldered enough to bodily pin him against the trunk of a tree with no chance of him breaking free. Lan Wangji was the first person he’d come across in his slow comb through the vicinity of where he’d been so headily kissed.

Wei Wuxian drew a sharp breath. There was a connection to be made here. He didn’t think he was crazy enough to make it. Perhaps he truly was going slightly insane with demonic cultivation if he could believe Lan Wangji, the paragon of virtue and respectability, who lived unflinchingly under Gusu Lan’s three thousand edicts, who had at best only tolerated his presence as children, would sneak up to him while he was blindfolded, pin him against a tree, and steal a kiss from him in broad daylight.

3. and his wanting grows teeth by yukla - ~25,000 words, teen - This is a very interesting AU where Lan Zhan is a traveling cultivator and runs into Wei Wuxian and the Jiangs looking for shelter during a snowstorm. No spoilers, but this fic goes to a pretty dark place that genuinely shocked me, but I enjoyed. (Still ends well though.)

Without further ado, they are hustled past the entrance and into a smaller greeting area. Huang-bobo approaches the brazier in the center with his hands outstretched, warming his fingers in the heat, but Lan Wangji hangs back. As he carefully brushes the snow free from his shoulders, he feels the burn of a curious gaze trailing up and down his body, lingering at the guqin still strapped to his back; when the sensation pauses at his face and stays there, he lifts his head.

The boy with the ribbon lights up at the eye contact, flashes another dazzling smile, and gives a little wave.

“You must be new here,” he whispers, something like laughter threaded into his voice, eyes scrunching into winking half-moons. “All dressed up in white like that! You might lose yourself in the snowstorm!”

Something stirs to life in Lan Wangji’s chest. It’s—uncomfortable, he decides, and so he steps away. Teasing should not be encouraged with a response.

4. Ghosts Shouldn't by ShanaStoryteller - ~15,000 words, not rated - After Wei Ying's death, his spirit seems to linger. The story is told from Lan Xichen's point of view. I love an outsider point of view. I also love the way the author fleshes out his character as well.

Lan Xichen means to force his way inside, angry ghost of the Yiling Patriarch or no, but then his brother lets out slow breath, settling, the pain easing from his face as he falls back into a more peaceful sleep.

His hair is moving on its own, so subtly Lan Xichen might not have noticed it if he hadn’t been looking at Wangji so intently. It’s like someone’s running their hand through his hair.

The window frosts over suddenly, thick enough that he can’t see through it. Anxiety spikes through him so quickly he’s nauseous with it, but then the frost melts away and the opening notes of Healing start up again.

He can’t tell if it’s a warning or not. Maybe it’s just an acknowledgement. Wei Wuxian knows he’s there.

5. **leading tone by silencemostofall - ~32,000 words, general - This is a modern AU set in a world where people who love you leave a mark of color on you the first time you touch. Wei Wuxian has no color on him. So much emotional hurt/comfort. So much of Wei Wuxian's terrible self-esteem.

He can cover up his palms with his gloves, so that the blankness does not draw stares. But he has no marks on his fingertips, which he cannot easily hide, and none visible on his face or neck, the blankness of which is even more difficult to hide. People look at him and, with a single glance, understand the single most devastating truth that he knows about himself.

They assume that he does not have very many marks. He may be an eccentric, dramatic person, but the likelihood that an individual has all of their marks on, say, their feet or their torso or other places that are not immediately obvious-- that probability goes down as your number of marks increases. He can laugh as much as he wants about how he loves touching people for the first time with odd places, like the knee or the elbow, but it doesn't quite mask the feeling of other that he knows he exudes.

They assume that he does not have a lot of marks. This, while a heavy weight, is not unbearably so. It is okay that they think he is not much loved. It chafes a bit, and feels occasionally like something he has to furiously push down within himself, but it is not unbearable. What would be unbearable is if they knew the truth: that he does not just have very few marks, but none. That he is simply an individual who is not loved at all.

6. **pastel by antebunny - ~7,000 words, gen - This is a remix work of the above fic. It's from Lan Zhan's point of view and just different enough to be interesting. Still lots of emotional hurt/comfort. I love this concept a whole lot, and both of these fics are great.

It’s a simmering day in May, and Wei Ying is wearing long sleeves, long pants, and gloves.

His choice of dress isn’t unusual for many reasons. For one, there’s plenty of people who don’t like strangers seeing their soulmarks. There’s plenty of people who wish to keep them private by covering them up. For another, Wei Ying spends most of his day in various chilly computer science department rooms, He could just be wearing long sleeves for that.

7. one good thing by Yuu_chi - ~27,000 words, teen - Wei Wuxian has died (or did he??) and is haunting his old home. Lan Zhan moves in. This story has a happy ending! And so much yearning!

To the flowers struggling to grow on the other side of the glass, he says, “We’re getting a new roommate. Well, I’m getting a new roommate - you’re getting somebody who might actually be able to water you for a change.” The flowers outside sway a little in the breeze, and Wei Wuxian nods contemplatively. “He can’t be any worse than the last guy who lived here. Remember when I spooked him while he was cooking and he nearly burnt the house down? Of course you don’t. You’re fucking foliage, your memory is worse than mine. I remember though, so it’s cool.”

There’s the sound of shuffling behind him and Wei Wuxian looks up to see the stranger has entered the kitchen, setting the last of the boxes down on the table. Disgustingly neat handwriting declares the box kitchen - homeware. The stranger carefully brushes his hair back from his face and, without so much as a second of hesitation, cracks open the box and begins unpacking.

“Wow, you really don’t waste any time, do you?” Wei Wuxian marvels. “You literally just got here - who cares about unpacking? Sit down for a moment, breathe, have something to eat. It’s not going anywhere.”

8. with you, I am home by tellthemstories - ~47,000 words, mature - Modern AU where Wei Wuxian is being forced to return home to entertain marriage proposals. So naturally instead he "convinces" Lan Zhan to pretend to date him. I love a good fake dating fic, and this one hits all the right beats.

Lan Zhan does that almost-smile thing that Wei Wuxian takes to mean he’s happy, or at the very least not-mad. “You don’t have any money.”

“Not true. I have the money from our last job, when we settled the vengeful spirit for the flower shop girl.” (He doesn’t. They have Lan Zhan’s money. Wei Wuxian spent his on a pack of loquats and three bottles of Emperor’s Smile wine.)

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian says. “Do it for me.”

Thinking back on it two weeks later, standing alone in the middle of Jin Ling’s graduation banquet and watching Lan Zhan walk away from him, Wei Wuxian realises that this, this was the moment when he should have known. He should have realised in the way Lan Zhan doesn’t hesitate or negotiate and just says with that half-fond, half-exasperated tone he gets sometimes, “Fine.”

9. and in the spring i shed my skin by wvlfqveen - ~11,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Wei Ying can't find Lan Zhan, but hey, there happens to be a rabbit here instead. Features a very slow Wei Ying, emotional hurt/comfort and accidental love confessions.

Immediately, his heart settles and he grins down at his new friend. “Oh, hello there,” he coos, reaching out to pet the fluffy ears. The bunny is very, very still under his hand.

“Did Lan Zhan bring you today?,” he continues cooing. “I’m sorry I missed that, but your Dad didn’t tell me he was bringing you.”

Lan Zhan rarely brings his rabbits to work since they are as tolerant of crowds and unnecessary noise as he is. They were probably relevant to today’s lesson but…

Wei Ying frowns. “Why would he leave you alone? And where is your cage?”

10. how, or when, or from where by sarahyyy - ~10,000 words, gen - Wei Ying wakes up in the hospital with amnesia and can't remember the last few years of his life, including his best friend and the guy he's in love with.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes so hard Wei Wuxian is surprised his eyeballs don’t just fall out of his eye sockets. “That’s the worst part. He did. Whatever mating ritual you both have going on is so fucking weird, Wei Wuxian.” He snorts. “If you’d stayed asleep for any longer, I’d have lost my shit and thrown my myself out a window just so I wouldn’t have to talk to Lan Wangji again.”

Wei Wuxian blinks at him. “Is this a good time to ask who Lan Wangji is?”

Jiang Cheng glares at him. “Your Lan Zhan,” he says, annoyed. Wei Wuxian must look as confused as he feels, because Jiang Cheng’s annoyance bleeds out into concern. “Your Lan er-gege? Your soulmate, Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “No bells are ringing.”

11. ** a shared plate by yukla - ~26,000 words, teen - This is an absolutely gorgeous fic about Wei Wuxian traveling the world post-canon to rediscover himself and restore his faith in humanity and eventually find his way back to Lan Zhan. The whole thing is great, but the last two chapters are just *chef's kiss*

Lan Zhan,

Just as the mountains stand unchanging and the green rivers flow ceaselessly, we will meet again — and between then and now, you cannot hope to avoid my letters, either! Haha! Lan Zhan, I’ve seen so many things and met so many people, and it’s only been a month!

I miss you already

It’s so hot that I find myself missing the wind in Gusu’s mountains. Your poor Wei Ying is I’m melting away, Lan Zhan...

I’m realizing now, sixteen years is a long time to be away — the world is vast, and quite a bit different than I remembered. And in sixteen years, a child can also grow up into a man! It’s your job to catch me up on A-Yuan’s fun childhood stories! I do remember hearing something about a pile of rabbits...

12. with your arms outstretched to me by annemari - ~14,000 words, teen - Lan Zhan finally gets up the nerve to ask Wei Ying on a date, but things don't go as expected. Features emotional hurt/comfort (are we sensing a theme with these recs??) and just regular hurt/comfort.

"Oh, man, I was hoping you had some water with you," Wei Ying says. "I totally forgot to bring any for myself. Stupid of me."

"There is enough for both of us," Lan Wangji says. He has another bigger bottle in the car, as well.

Wei Ying hums but he only takes a few sips. He presses it back into Lan Wangji's hand. "I don't need any more."

Lan Wangji is considering arguing, but then Wei Ying shifts a bit, moving his ankle, and gasps very, very quietly.

13. ** A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart - ~22,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian has finished traveling and returned to the Cloud Recesses and Lan Zhan. But their lives never do run smoothly.

“Lan Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian says, recognizing him after a moment. His heart slams against his rib cage. “Where is Lan Zhan? What’s happened?”

Lan Jingyi flaps a hand at him, gulping air. Wei Wuxian hands him the water, and leans back against Little Apple’s side as he waits impatiently for the boy to get his breath back.

“I’m so glad I found you,” Jingyi gasps, just as Wei Wuxian is about to throttle a proper answer out of him. “Hanguang Jun was in such a state when he woke up, we didn’t know if you’d come and gone already.”

“Where is he, Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian says, as evenly as he can. “What happened?”

14. So Why Not Crack Your Skull When the Mind Swells by greenteafiend - ~14,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel extraordinary pain unless he's touching Lan Zhan. Yet more of Wei Wuxian's self-esteem issues and Lan Zhan's steadfast devotion.

“Are you hurt, Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asks, pressing his hand to Wei Ying’s forehead to feel his temperature. There is no fever, but that doesn’t do much to mitigate Lan Wangji’s worries.

“No—I’m not hurt,” says Wei Ying, sagging forward to lean his weight into Lan Wangji’s hand like he can’t help himself.

It’s so strange—Lan Wangji can feel what Wei Ying is feeling. Although the relief is still very profound, wisps of other things are making themselves known; happiness; wistfulness; guilt. It’s all so fleeting that Lan Wangji can’t even begin to deduce what has provoked those feelings, but he wishes he knew their source.

15. puzzle pieces by Anonymous - ~6,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are roommates, and Wei Ying has started borrowing Lan Zhan's clothes.

“Hm? Oh.” With sleepy eyes that does— things to Lan Zhan’s heart, he blinks and tugs at the lower hem of the shirt, which is riding just above the curve of his thighs. Does Lan Zhan’s mouth water? Maybe. Yes. Absolutely. “Ah, yeah, sorry. Laundry day caught up to me before I could catch up with it. I saw this shirt left in the washer a few days ago, and—“ He blinks up at Lan Zhan through dark eyelashes that Lan Zhan wants to kiss, maybe, and gives him an uncharacteristically hesitant smile. “Do you mind?”

I mind the fact that we are not married, Lan Zhan thinks. But he can’t say that, and his tongue doesn’t know how to say anything else. So he stays silent.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says after a moment. “If you—oh, damn, I should’ve known, this is like real silk, must’ve been super expensive. Fuck. Okay, here, uh, I’ll take it off—“

16. ** Nothing But Trouble by brooklinegirl - ~60,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Wei Ying is trying to be a good brother and get Jiang Cheng laid. Somehow this plan involves pretending to date Lan Zhan.

"I won't!" Wei Ying insists. "I'll ask out someone...high stakes. I'll find someone. I'll...okay, how's this? I swear that I'll ask someone out and keep at it for at least two dates."

"No."

"Three dates."

"Nope."

"Okay, okay, five. That's fair! That's more than fair! One person, five dates." He points at Jiang Cheng. "You have to do it, too. That's how a pact works."

Jiang Cheng stares at him. "Five dates," he says flatly. "Five. And yours can't be Nie Huaisang."

17. i'm the one for your fire by occultings (microcomets) - ~43,000 words, explicit - This is a Modern AU and a Cherry Magic AU! (Side note: GO WATCH CHERRY MAGIC IF YOU HAVEN'T.) But in short, Wei Ying turns 30 without losing his virginity and gets the power to hear people's thoughts when he touches them. He gets more than he bargained for with Lan Zhan. The author does a good job of translating the story to these characters. Wei Ying is not forced to be like Adachi, the main character of Cherry Magic. He's still himself, and the same goes for Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan’s voice is so clear, so sudden that it’s as though it’s spoken, the slice of a sharp object through velvet.

He’s touching me.

Wei Ying startles for a moment, wonders if he’d somehow heard his own thoughts instead, but — no, that had definitely been Lan Zhan’s steady, factual baritone, loud and clear.

God, this is still so weird. It still doesn’t seem totally real. But how else can he account for hearing Lan Zhan’s voice in his head, as clearly as if he’d spoken to Wei Ying directly?

18. like blue flame over my fingertips by tangerinechar - ~37,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are roommates, and Lan Zhan just finds himself wanting to take care of Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji’s roommate. Is a problem.

He doesn’t get an answer to the roommate problem until the next morning, when Lan Xichen texts him telling him that the apartment he’d suggested (and helped pay rent for) to Lan Wangji said in the small text that it’d be two people per apartment, the second bedroom wasn’t actually a guest bedroom, sorry, Wangji, you can move in with me if you want, I have space —

No. Thank you for your kind offer, Brother, but I will be quite fine, Lan Wangji texts back.

19. ** some impulse of delight by handclaps - ~20,000 words, explicit - College AU where Wei Ying decides he needs to help Lan Zhan get used to touching people. Lan Zhan agrees. Wei Ying is dumb and in love. Lan Zhan is less dumb, but still as in love.

Lan Zhan shakes his head and fumbles, tries to push the cotton wool into Wei Wuxian’s hand.

“Sorry,” Wei Wuxian says, realising. “Touching people, I know.”

He feels dumb. He thought he’d worn Lan Zhan down more than this, that they were friends now and that his whole no touching thing was mostly overcome. He took Wei Wuxian’s hand easily, right? He looks down at his belly full of scratches, dabbing at them moodily.

“Sorry,” he says, again.

Lan Zhan makes some kind of noise, but he is busy packing the first aid kit back, placing everything exactly where it was before.

“Lan Zhan, you’re going to have to do something about this,” Wei Wuxian complains. “I know you don’t like touching people and usually it plays as a kind of gentlemanly thing, but what about emergencies?”

20. And I Will Call You Home by Spodumene - ~43,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian returns after a year of traveling and rejoins Lan Zhan in the Cloud Recesses. He's doing a good job of pining and ignoring the obvious. Look, at this point, it shouldn't be a surprise that I'm a sucker for stories where Wei Wuxian deals with his ~*~issues~*~ and Lan Zhan takes care of him, whether he asks for it or not. This story has lots of that. I also enjoyed the case fic aspect of it.

“I do, I think,” Wei Wuxian admits. “Would be nice to see his face again after so long. And at least this time, I’m going to show up draped in finery. What do you think, Lan Zhan? I can’t possibly disgrace him—or you—wearing a cloak like that.”

“You could never disgrace me,” Lan Wangji says gently, that soft, affectionate look back on his face.

Wei Wuxian grins, warmed to the tips of his toes.

“I’ll remind you of that later. The next time I’m three jars deep and feeling especially shameless, you’ll have to remember those words, Lan Er-gege.”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji says simply.

Wei Wuxian smiles some more, overwhelmed by fondness.

21. darling, am i a chore? by martyrsdaughter - ~7,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian really, really wants Lan Zhan to call him 'gege'. Lan Zhan knows a trump card when he sees one.

“You know what I want,” Wei Wuxian purrs, reaching up on his tiptoes to throw his arms over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Call me gege, won’t you? Call me and I’ll stop.”

Lan Wangji knows he will not stop, regardless of what he calls him. Still, he thinks about it. If there really is a way to make Wei Wuxian stop, should he not consider it? He doesn’t have any real interest in curbing his husband’s insatiable mischievousness, but he does like knowing things about him—everything there is to know.

If there’s something that persuasive in the world, that it can bring Wei Wuxian into submission when no one is under threat, could he stop himself from seeking it?

22. your name, safe in their mouth by astrolesbian - ~11,000 words, gen - Wei Wuxian & Lan Sizhui fic with the Wangxian in the background. Lan Sizhui wants another dad and Wei Wuxian wants a son, they just don't know how to explain that to each other.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

Lan Sizhui tucks his chin into his uncle’s shoulder, and lets his eyes fall closed.

“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it?” Wen Ning whispers to him kindly.

Lan Sizhui takes a deep breath, and takes stock of all his aches, his ringing ear, his hollow chest, the way he had selfishly wanted Wei Wuxian to keep speaking to him in that careful voice, like he was just a child to be soothed and there was no real danger. How dangerous, to pretend. “No,” he lies. “It doesn’t hurt that much at all.”

23. when you're doing all the leaving (then it's never your love lost) by tardigradeschool - ~26,000 words, teen - AU where Lan Zhan with Wei Wuxian to Jin Ling's one-month celebration. Things go down, and it leads to Lan Zhan discovering Wei Wuxian's missing golden core. This obviously will not do, and oh look, the best doctor in the world just happens to be right here.

“How—“ Lan Wangji chokes. “His core —?” He looks at Wen Ning, half accusatory in his shock. “Jin Zixun could not have—“

“No, no!” Wen Ning says, holding out his hands. “He hasn’t had one for years, don’t worry!”

This is not as reassuring as Wen Ning seems to think.

“Please explain,” Lan Wangji says, pained. He feels for Wei Wuxian’s pulse instead; in the absence of a golden core, it will have to do as reassurance that he’s still alive.

Wen Ning is so anxious that the story comes out in a ramble, out of order. Lan Wangji wants him to hurry up, but he’s also not confident in his own ability to speak, so he just keeps quiet and lets him talk. His heart feels as if it’s about to fall from his chest, beating nearly twice as fast as Wei Wuxian’s does under his fingers.

24. A Match in the Making by lareine - ~30,000 words, teen - A Modern AU where Wei Wuxian sees his single and bad ass friend Lan Zhan and his single and bad ass friend Mianmian and gets some very dumb ideas.

To return to the point: Lan Zhan was peak adulting. Mianmian was peak adulting. And if they were both at the peak, then they were on the same level. What level? That mysterious level thing that everyone mentioned when it came to dating.

Whatever level it was, Lan Zhan and Mianmian were on it together. Wei Ying nodded to himself. So, Lan Zhan and Mianmian were allowed to date each other. The next question was: were they compatible? Did they have chemistry or whatever the fuck people called it?

25. Crack me open, pour you out by Tenillypo - ~16,000 words, explicit - Lan Zhan gets cursed to say whatever he's thinking. So his worst nightmare. Mutual pining, first time, all good stuff.

Lan Wangji freezes with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, lifting his eyes to stare at Wei Ying.

"I know! Just completely paralyzed." Wei Ying mimes being still as a board. "I don't know how long I lay there. It must have been two days at least. Good thing for Little Apple. He wandered back to the village when he got hungry, and eventually a few of them got brave enough to come look for me. When they rolled me over, the figure fell out of my hand and I could move again. Cunning little thing." He shakes his head. "I was weak as a kitten for a little while after they took me back to the village, and by the time I recovered, they'd burned the whole place to the ground. Such a waste."

Lan Wangji slowly lowers his chopsticks, heart racing unpleasantly. In his head, a picture of Wei Ying slowly wasting to death alone in the middle of the woods, with Lan Wangji a hundred miles away and none the wiser.

26. Crazy, Rich Cultivators by ShanaStoryteller - 13,000 words, no rating - Lan Zhan wants to bring his boyfriend home to meet his family. There are some things he definitely didn't realize about Wei Ying.

“He has a life here,” he says down the line. He doesn’t say that he has a life here too, one he likes a lot more than the one he had before. He misses home. He’d miss Wei Ying more. But he doesn’t say that, doesn’t say how vibrant he is and how beautiful and how little interest Lan Zhan has at seeing him among the high society he grew up with.

“Well, your life is here, Wangji,” his brother says. “You can’t stay away from home forever. You’re going to have to see how he does with the rest of us sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.”

It might as well be never, as far as he’s concerned. His family can meet Wei Ying at their wedding.

“I’ll ask,” he says.

Wei Ying has no interest in cultivation politics. They’re horrible, the five clans have an iron tight alliance that’s thirty seconds away from collapsing in on itself the moment someone from one sect steps on another sect’s toes. It’s the worst and he hates it. Surely even just the idea of it will be so horrifying to Wei Ying that Lan Zhan will be able to tell his brother no.

27. just our hands clasped so tight by electrum ~4,000 words, teen - Lan Zhan really, really, really just wants to give Wei Ying everything he wants.

“Despite your best efforts,” Wei Wuxian agrees. He shakes his head in mock-dismay. “How much longer do you think that will last if you keep buying everything I look at?” When this, too, fails to soften Lan Zhan’s resolve, he tries a different tactic. “We couldn’t even afford potatoes,” he says. “Back when I was with the Wens, at the Burial Mounds. Only radishes! If I survived that, I can certainly survive without another pretty comb.”

Lan Zhan’s expression is at once unmoved and yet somehow stricken. “I would have bought Wei Ying potatoes,” he says, like Wei Wuxian doesn’t know, by this point, that Lan Zhan would buy him anything. “If I had known…”

28. ** Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller - ~64,000 words, no rating - Jin Ling & Wei Wuxian with Wangxian in the background. Jin Ling is the best boy! And as he tries to rehabilitate his sect and his family and keep himself alive at the same time, he realizes, horrifyingly, that he has to be the mature one.

29. ** an act too often neglected by Ariaste - Lan Xichen / Meng Yao, ~61,000 words, explicit - The Wangxian is in the background here, but the main story is about Lan Xichen meeting Meng Yao on a dating app and getting immediately dickmatized. Meanwhile. Meng Yao refuses to be won over by Lan Xichen's charm. It goes as well as you'd expect for him.

The caption below is equally sparse: “5’6. Demanding.”

Lan Xichen feels a low simmer of arousal kindle in the pit of his stomach, and he gazes at that word-- demanding --for nearly as long as he’d stared at the photograph. He swipes right.

A few minutes later, a notification pops up: < Hm, the size of your hands is promising.

This is familiar. This is the flirtation stage. Lan Xichen knows the steps to the dance.

30. My Land Beneath Me by longleggedgit - ~30,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Wei Wuxian is cast out of his sect and out of China to America. And Lan Zhan just...follows.

Lan Zhan always waited for his tea to cool before drinking, which meant he had nothing to do but give Wei Wuxian a judgmental look. “No more McDonald’s.”

“You’re just bitter because you get indigestion from anything that actually tastes good,” Wei Wuxian grumbled.

Because Lan Zhan was insufferably mature and patient, he didn’t rise to the bait. “We have time to stop somewhere before class,” he said.

“Fine. But you’re paying this time.”

It was a bad joke, and predictably, fell flat; Lan Zhan was, after all, paying for everything, every time. Wei Wuxian frowned into his mug.

“You know,” he said, after another swallow, “you really don’t have to be here. I’m going to figure something out.”

*

Interested in 86 more The Untamed fic recs?

Part 1 - 40 recs Part 2 - 23 recs Part 3 - 23 recs

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[pwarkluv]

❝ somebody to someone - p.js ❞

park jisung x reader | angst, fluff | 0.7k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, non-idol au, friends to lovers au, mature language/cursing, bestfriend!jisung, soft!jisung, depressive themes, depressive thoughts, reader in need of comfort, always remember guys that if you’re ever feeling like this my dms are ALWAYS open i promise you i don’t care if we’ve never talked before i’m always here for you guys!

SUMMARY | when you feel like your whole world is falling apart, he will always be there to catch you before you fall. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “somebody to you” by the banners :) these past couple of days have been dog poop so this is really just a (rushed and ugly) comfort fic for me lol. anyways i’m working on chapter three of puzzle piece don’t worry <3 i love you guys.

the non stop buzzing of your phone lit up the dark room you were in. it was jisung, your best friend, frantically spamming your notifications. as clueless as he was in everyday life (bless his poor soul), he knew you better than anyone and the moment you didn’t pick up his first phone call sent him into a frenzy of worry and panic over you. 

you always answered for him, no matter what. 

❝ and if the sun’s upset ❞

if you were being completely honest, you had no idea why you were sobbing depressingly into your pillow. the salty tears fell down your cheeks as your broken cries echoed around your room. 

was it because of that screaming match you had with your mother a few moments ago? the fact a majority of your friends never cared for you anyways? school being a complete shit show? or maybe because you were ever so hopelessly in love with your best friend? 

❝ and the sky goes cold ❞

since when did things turn to shit, you mentally asked yourself as your phone buzzed for the nth time. you knew you were worrying the boy and the guilt swooshed around in your heart. but you knew you couldn’t talk to him about it, not about how much you loved him. 

jisung’s your vent and what kept you grounded the moment your mind overloaded itself with its bad thoughts. you told him everything even if you don’t mean to, and he’s always there to comfort you. so you knew you couldn’t risk spilling your feelings for him, even if it meant bottling up everything else.

❝ then if the clouds get heavy ❞

“y/n i swear to god you better open this door or i promise you i’ll kick it down.” a voice called out, knocking on your bedroom door. your heart raced as you frantically wiped your tears away, sitting up on your bed. how the hell did jisung get in anyways?

probably dad, you thought to yourself, slowly walking towards the door. 

“y/n.” jisung warned.

“okay okay i’m opening it.” you replied, not wanting to go through the hassle of reattaching your door if jisung did end up kicking it down. 

your sudden boost of confidence died down the moment you were face to face with the boy who made your tummy burst out like fireworks. jisung’s worried face met yours and you could’ve passed away from cardiac arrest on the spot. 

his recently dyed messy jet black hair made you feel things, the domesticity in his humongous black hoodie and gray sweats was what led you to close the door once again.

jisung’s foot burst through, stopping you from fully closing it. “talk to me bubba, what’s going on?” he said softly said. 

the raw concern and love his voice held was what let you let it all out.

❝ and start to fall ❞

the moment jisung heard your first sob he quickly pushed through the door, his strength overpowering you. he quickly pulled you into an embrace, his warmth spreading all over your body. 

❝ i really need somebody to call my own ❞

“it’s gonna be okay princess.” jisung softly reassured you, your bodies tangled up on your bed. you sobbed into his chest mumbling incoherent words as his big hands rubbed small comforting circles onto your back. 

jisung was at a loss. he had never seen you so broken and upset. seeing the woman he loved crying out onto his chest broke his heart and he remembered the promise he made to himself to protect you from anything and everything.

had he failed you?

❝ i wanna be somebody to someone ❞

jisung knew he loved you the moment you two met. as corny as it sounds, he fell face first for your goofy, sarcastic, loving ass. but he didn’t want to jump right into it and opted to be friends. best friends, in your words. 

but god did you make it hard for the boy to keep his emotions at bay. every laugh, giggle, smile you let out when you two were together all the more made him fall. but seeing you so blue hurt him more than you thought.

❝ somebody to you ❞

“it’s okay baby, i’m always here for you.” jisung whispered into your ear as you settled down, hiccuping every once in a while. “i'll be there to catch you whenever you fall so chin up princess.” he said, wanting nothing more than to kiss your worries away. but that could be saved for another time. 

instead he’ll be here for you until he was somebody to you. 

#park jisung #park jisung imagine #park jisung imagines #park jisung fanfic #jisung park #jisung park imagine #jisung park imagines #jisung park fanfic #park jisung x reader #jisung park x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagine #nct dream imagines #nct dream fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct 127 #nct 127 imagine #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fanfic #neo culture technology #nct 2020 #nct 2018 #mark lee #lee mark #huang renjun #lee jeno

[ragingbookdragon]

Each Word Gets Lost In The Echo PT. 1

Roy Harper x Batbrother!Reader

Word Count: 2.9K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes

Author's Note: I had way too much fun with this but PT. 2 is going to be angsty and y'all are gonna hate me for it. >:) Enjoy! -Thorne

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

So, are you planning on getting us together soon?

He hummed in response, pulling out the pan and spatula. “I dunno. With Gutierrez’s wife giving birth, I want Esmeralda to have some time with her daughter before we pull out again. I know her Samantha wants her home.”

Understood, but…what’s happening in Syria…it’s not going to get better on its own.

“I know it won’t, Nadeen. But until we get a mission from somebody overseas, we can’t exactly go out.” He pulled a few eggs from the refrigerator, cracking them on the rim of the pan, watching the yellow yolks fall in. “Besides, it’s the first week of a three-month leave.” He smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re already bored.”

Are you kidding me? Um and Ab have grounded me from flying. I’m stuck here, (Y/N).

“How is your family by the way? Wasn’t your sister attending the Cairo University?” he asked.

Yeah, and Um is so proud of her.

(Y/N) chuckled, whisking the eggs in the pan. “Someone’s jealous.”

Well, I can’t exactly tell my parents I work for an illegal black ops squad. Kinda puts dampers in relationships.

“Nadeen, we’re not an illegal squad. We’re government sanctioned.”

The fuck we are. They just don’t bother us because they know they can’t kill us all.

Grabbing the pepper, he ground some into the pan. “Jesus, take a vacation, Nadeen. Go to France or something.”

Fuck France. I’ll go to Saint Petersburg first. Oh shit, speaking of SP, have you spoken to Vitsina yet?

(Y/N) frowned, setting down the pepper grinder. “Why? Is something wrong?”

What? No. I was just wondering if you had. She really needs to get a hobby. Hey, maybe I can get her and Walker to come hang out with me at home.

“You’re not going to get Walker out of his flat, Nadeen. You know how he is when he gets on leave.”

And what about Nakamoto?

“You know they’re both paranoid. Remember to—” something clanged down the hallway and he stopped, mid-sentence, going silent.

Hello? (Y/N)? Captain, you alright?

He frowned and turned off the stove, opening a drawer at the far end of the counter. Pulling out the Glock, he cocked it and murmured, “Asghar, lemme call you back.”

Ten-four, Captain. Be careful.

The line went dead, and he crept to the edge of the doorway and paused, inhaling sharply before he peeked around the corner, gun ready. Nothing. (Y/N)’s frown only deepened as he moved down the hallway, quiet and breathless. He got to the first room in the hall, his study and he shifted against the wall, listening for movement. When he heard nothing, he moved slightly, gun pointed into the door as he swept the room. Empty.

Exhaling deeply, he started to move when he heard the noise again and he peeked out the door to his bedroom. There. (Y/N) crept along the wall again until he was at the doorway and he leaned against the frame, listening carefully. Something was in there. Something or someone, he didn’t know what, but he did know.

(Y/N) waited until the noise got closer then turned the doorway and moved in. Someone’s hand shot out, grabbing the gun and he grunted, throwing up his elbow into their jaw. The intruder cried and with their free hand, grabbed (Y/N)’s shirt and yanked; they went tumbling to the ground, the gun falling away, but he didn’t waste his chance, scrambling atop the stranger as he went for the Strider he had in his back pocket.

He flicked it out and brought it down when the person beneath him grabbed it with one hand, the other ripping off the hood he wore. “(Y/N)! It’s me!”

“Roy?”

The archer sighed and went slack beneath him. “God, yes, it’s me!”

(Y/N) relaxed and tossed the knife to the side, hanging his head down. “Jesus Fuck Roy, I thought you were an assassin.”

“Get those often?” he shot back and (Y/N) glowered at him.

“Yeah, I do actually.” He rolled off Roy and got to his feet, holding out his hand for him to take.

“God, remind me not to sneak up on you again.” He let himself be tugged up and rubbed his jaw. “I thought you dislocated my jaw for a second.”

(Y/N) shoved a finger in his face. “You’re lucky you managed to grab the gun because I almost shot your ass.” He bent down and picked up his Glock and knife, putting the latter back in his pocket after he’d flicked it shut. “Are you some kind of idiot? Why the fuck didn’t you just knock on the door? What possibly justified sneaking into a mercenary’s bedroom through the window?”

Roy shrugged. “I thought you weren’t home yet.”

He opened his mouth to retort, then shut it and nodded. “Alright, that’s actually not a terrible excuse.” Sighing, he shoved past Roy and walked down the hall into the kitchen, the archer following him. “But don’t do it again.”

“Why? Worried you were gonna shoot your boyfriend?” Roy teased, wrapping his arms around (Y/N)’s waist, nuzzling into his neck.

“Yeah, I was.” He put the gun back in the drawer and lugged the archer towards the stove where he flicked the burner back on. “Next time just text me and ask if I’m home.”

Roy hummed, pressing a kiss just above the mercenary’s collar. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well,surprise me you did,” (Y/N) griped. “I seriously thought I was about to have a firefight in my own damn apartment.” He paused, seeming to remember something and said, “I live in a penthouse.” Glancing at Roy, he questioned, “How the fuck did you get up here?”

“I’ve got skills, babe,” Roy grinned, waggling his brows and (Y/N) rolled his eyes before tapping the Bluetooth headset at his ear.

“Call Nadeen.” It pinged for a few moments.

Captain, you’re back. Everything good?

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Roy was in the apartment.”

You live in a penthouse? How’d he get up there?

“His ‘skills’ apparently.”

Nice. He still going around with your brother?

(Y/N) nodded forgetting she wasn’t in front of him and reclined into Roy as the eggs started cooking. “Yeah. Got a new gig as Red Hood and Arsenal.”

Roy blinked. “Wait, does your squad know…about you know…”

He waved and (Y/N) completed, “That my family and friends are vigilantes? Yeah. Why?”

“Isn’t that a breach of security?”

He snorted. “You act like my squad is friends with every government in the world, baby.” He shook his head. “I trust my team with everything. And in return they trust me with theirs.”

Aww, Captain you do care.

“Does your dad know that they know?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Probably. But he doesn’t tell me how to live my life and I don’t tell him how to live his.” He scrambled the eggs. “Nadeen, go hang out with Vitsina for a week or two if you’re really that bored.”

She’s back in Russia right now, isn’t she?

“I think so. Said she had a loose end to tie up with Antonovich.”

Oh shit, she’s gonna fucking kill that guy. She might need air support then.

“Hence why I said go hang out with her.”

Wanna come along? You could bring your boy-toy?

“Did she just call me a boy-toy?” Roy blurted. “Excuse you, I am not a boy-toy. I am a boy-man.”

Well, from the pictures Captain’s showed us, you are in fact a boy-toy, Roy.

He blinked and looked at (Y/N). “What pictures did you show them?”

“Nothing,” he coughed. “Nadeen, shut up.”

The ones with the red lace and matching heels.

“You didn’t.” Roy breathed. “You showed them the pin-up photos?!”

(Y/N)’s mouth fell open and closed as he vaguely gestured around. “I didn’t directly show them. Nakamoto hacked my phone like the nosy asshole he is and found ‘em.”

“So that means you still showed them because you apparently didn’t stop them from seeing!”

Oh, look at that, Captain, Ab is calling me. Talk later!

She hung up on him and (Y/N) huffed a laugh, pulling the device from his ear. He set it aside and shrugged out of Roy’s arms, pulling two plates out of the cabinet beside them. He plated the food, smirking at the flush across Roy’s cheeks. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed, baby?”

“You showed my nudes to your black ops squad. It’s hot. Ridiculously hot. But also embarrassing.”

“If it makes you feel any better, they were very impressed with them.”

Roy tried and failed horribly to hide the grin coming over his lips. “…They were?”

(Y/N) set down the plates and got up in Roy’s personal space and flirted, “Oh absolutely baby. They were so stunned at how pretty you looked all dolled up in that red teddy, your lips painted crimson.” He gripped Roy’s hips and pulled them flush together, and while Roy was about five-eleven, (Y/N) had a couple inches on him. He smirked when he felt the definition in Roy’s jeans. “Wanna know what my favorite picture is?”

Roy swallowed thickly, one hand coming to grab at the island behind him, the other grabbing (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Which—which one?”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of the archer’s jaw, trailing his lips to his ear where he breathed, “The one where you’re bent down on the bed…” he reached up behind Roy’s back and tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. “Your ass is up in the air and...”

“Uh huh, what else?” Roy begged, hips canting forward.

“God, you’ve got that pretty red flush across your cheeks.” (Y/N) whispered. “You looked incredibly ravishing.” He breathed in Roy’s ear. “We were on that mission in Kazakhstan for two whole months and all I could think about was getting back home and drilling you into the mattress until you couldn’t walk.”

“(Y/N)…” the archer groaned shamelessly. “Babe, please.”

He smirked, pressing a kiss to Roy’s cheek. “I didn’t show them that one though,” he said, pulling away without a second thought, picking up the plates. “I kept that one to myself. It’s still in my wallet if you wanna go check. I look at it a lot.”

(Y/N) wandered towards the living room and plopped down on the couch, propping his legs up on the coffee table. He snorted when he heard Roy’s moan of frustration followed by the man stomping into the living room with the other plate in his hand, the free one adjusting the front of his jeans.

“I hate you.” He scowled, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I hate you so fucking much it’s not funny.”

(Y/N) shrugged and picked up the remote, switching the channels until he found a football game to watch. “You snuck into my penthouse and almost made me shoot you point blank.” He shot Roy a grin. “I guess we’re both doing things to each other we don’t like.”

“I thought you weren’t home!”

“Mhm. Punishment is still a punishment, baby.” He turned up the volume and dug into his eggs. “Jason know you’re in Gotham City?”

Roy swallowed the food in his mouth, answering, “Told him I was in the area.”

“You know he’s gonna wanna see you.” (Y/N) replied. “If not to hang out, to make sure you’re not into trouble.”

“Are you saying I’m trouble, babe?” Roy retorted and he chuckled.

“You’re my kind of trouble.”

The archer went silent, and his cheeks flushed. “…That was a low blow.”

(Y/N) winked. “Uh huh.” His side vibrated and he reached down, pulling his phone out.

“Who is it?” Roy asked.

“Alfred.” He slid his thumb along the bottom and put it to his ear. “Hello, you’ve reached the answering machine of your favorite grandson. How may I assist you today, grandpa?”

You’re absolutely hysterical, Master (Y/N). You should go into comedy.

“I would but it doesn’t pay that well unlike merc missions.”

Hmm…how are you today, Master (Y/N)?

He smiled. “Not too bad Alfie. Could’ve eaten a perfect parfait with fresh fruit and granola, but beggars can’t be choosers, huh?”

You did miss an excellent breakfast if I do say so myself. Nevertheless, it is Sunday morning. Shall I expect you later tonight for dinner?

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Alfie.” (Y/N) agreed.

Wonderful. I shall set out an extra plate in case you decide to invite Master Harper. Have a good day. Until tonight, sir.

The line clicked and (Y/N) pulled the phone from his ear, staring at it in confusion. “Babe? What’s wrong?” Roy questioned.

He shook his head. “Alfred knew you were here.”

“What? He did?”

He looked up at Roy. “Yeah…said he was going to set out an extra plate for you tonight at dinner in case you wanted to come.”

“I get to come to the Wayne Family Sunday Night Dinner? Really?” he seemed awfully excited.

“Dude, it’s just dinner.”

“That you guys do every Sunday night and don’t allow anybody to tread on,” Roy retorted with a glare. “This is special.”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “Are you that eager to be introduced to the family?” he dodged the pillow Roy threw at him. “But…if you wanna come, you’re free to.”

“Really?” Roy doubted. “You want me to come over? I thought you wanted to keep this quiet?”

He sighed and pulled his legs from the table, setting the plate on it. “It’s not that I want it to stay a secret. It’s just…I worry about it.”

Roy set his plate down on the coffee table and scooted close. “What about?”

“I don’t know, Roy. I’m just worried that the more people that know about us the more danger I put you in.”

“Babe…” Roy started, placing a hand on the other side of (Y/N)’s cheek so he could turn his face to the archer’s. “We both live dangerous lives. There’s always going to be danger surrounding us.”

“I know,” (Y/N) sighed, leaning into Roy’s hand. “I still worry though. About you…about us.” He met those evergreen eyes. “I’m just worried that every time I leave, it’s going to be the last time we see each other.”

Roy chuckled. “Afraid I’m going to get offed?”

“No,” he murmured, turning his lips into Roy’s palm. “That I will.”

The archer gaped at him. “(Y/N)…why haven’t you told me about this?”

“Because I’m a super soldier who was trained to keep my emotions under control by an anal retentive, over glorified kitchen scale of a father.” (Y/N) deadpanned, then heaved an even bigger sigh and rested his forehead against Roy’s shoulder. “You’ve got enough on your plate.”

“Yeah, Jaybird keeps me pretty busy with missions.”

He chuckled. “Gonna have to tell my little brother to let my boyfriend have a break.”

“Break smeak.” Roy quipped, pressing a kiss to (Y/N)’s temple. “Listen to me, you’re a strong man, (Y/N). You’re probably the best out of your family. Smart and skilled off the charts.” He ran his calloused fingers down his lover’s neck. “If anyone is going to get out alive on a mission, it’ll always be you. Always.”

He sighed, turning his nose into Roy’s neck as he whispered. “You think so?”

Roy smiled, gripping his chin lightly to pull his head up. “I don’t think so, babe. I know so.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s. “I love you,” he murmured against the soldier’s lips. “So much.”

(Y/N) hummed and pressed a hand to Roy’s chest, shoving him backwards onto the couch and he crawled atop him. “I love you more,” he replied and pulled his shirt off his body before pressing his hand to Roy’s chest, except the archer hissed and he let up. “What’s wrong?” he worried, and he shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“Roy.” He warned, cocking a brow. “Where are you hurt?” he asked, pressing the same spot again.

“Ow! Stop that!” Roy grunted. “It’s tender.”

“What’s tender?” (Y/N) inquired and Roy sighed.

“I got a new tattoo.”

He narrowed his eyes and gazed down at him. “Of?”

“Nothing.” The archer muttered, though pink was coming across his cheeks and he sighed.

“C’mon Roy. Talk or I’ll tease it out of you.” He shot him a glare. “And you know I will.”

They stared one another down for a minute then Roy sighed and pulled his shirt off and (Y/N) peeled away the bandage. His eyes went wide when he saw the silver spartan helmet atop the black shield, the gold lettering underneath.

“Is this…”

“Your squad designation?” Roy offered. “Yeah…thought it seemed right.”

(Y/N) traced the raised flesh, eyes flashing to Roy’s when he shivered from the calloused touch. “I can’t believe you got my squads symbol tattooed on your chest.”

“You don’t like it?” he sounded hurt.

“I love it,” (Y/N) huffed, gesturing to his own tattoo on his ribs. “We match now…though you forgot to put your name inside the shield.”

“Well, I’m not technically a Spectre, (Y/N).” Roy said.

“Maybe not, but that’s still where your name goes.” He retorted and smiled. “It’s awesome, baby.”

Roy’s thumb brushed his hipbone. “So does the tattoo get me out of punishment for sneaking in?”

(Y/N) smirked down at him. “It just might.” He reached down and tugged the front of Roy’s pants. “Why don’t you show me how sorry you are for it? I just might decide to forgive you before subjecting you to dinner with my family.”

A multitude of emotions flashed through Roy’s eyes. Arousal, desire, need, and then surprise. “Oh shit, I forgot about dinner.”

“Seriously?” (Y/N) blinked, unsurprised. “God you’re such a man.” He crawled out of Roy’s lap much to the archer’s dismay and groaning.

“Where are you going?”

He paused and looked back at him. “I’m not fucking you on my couch, Roy.” He started towards his bedroom. “Hurry up or I’ll start without you.”

Roy rolled off the couch and to his feet as fast as he could.

#batfamily x reader #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #roy harper x reader #roy harper x reader imagines #roy harper x reader imagine #roy harper imagines #roy harper imagine #roy harper #arsenal #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #alfred pennyworth #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc

[earthlyyan]

Organic Antidepressants

(Slight Yandere Ferid Bathory x Suicidal Reader) originally posted on my AO3

Warnings: Ferid being touchy, suicidal depression, intrusive thoughts. Reader is of legal age

first person pov (ew)

(Originally Posted on AO3 On 1-9-2020)

The days were far longer than they were before… at least it felt that way.

I knew I should’ve died that day. I wish I had died that day. The day the trumpets of the apocalypse decided to ring gloriously over our god forsaken planet.

Anyone younger than thirteen? What a fucking joke.

The cot stuffed with hay was one of the few things that brought me comfort in the day to day. The odd number of children allowed for me to be alone. I liked it that way. More me time. And the most I wanted to do was return to it. But instead, my feet dragged down the busy streets, making my way to the blood bank.

On my way though, I could hear the guards making excuses to their superiors. Apparently three humans on the register were found dead in their terf. 

“They committed suicide. You know how they get when they’re cooped up. I didn’t touch them, honest.”

 “They got sick. Died of their illness I guess.”

Bastards took them for themselves. Everyone knew it. But were they going to confront them? They weren’t protected. The vamps just thought they could get away with it.

“Hey we have enough. Three won’t make a dent.”

Not even caring that those children had futures. Well, would’ve had futures. Those were stripped away as quick as the adults were.

I wanted to be happy. We all did.

But in this place? Laughable. You had a better chance of being an astronaut. Well… maybe not. But it sure felt that way.

You know how to be happy right?

 “First and Last name?”

I answered.

“First open table.”

No matter how many times I’ve done this already, the dread won’t leave. The feeling of their eyes. I could see the barely restrained hunger. If anyone was left alone, they’d take a bag for the rations and the kid for themselves.   

You could ask the vamp to take extra.

I shuddered and plopped myself on the medical bed. “Good morning.”

An unamused grunt was my reply. I was the scum of the earth not worth talking to, apparently.

He’s right, isn’t he?

The needle was quick. He hadn’t even bothered to give a warning. It was a pinch, a wave of nausea, and then it was over. He tossed the pouch of their nasty sustenance formula in my hands and pointed to the door.

“Thanks.” I walked out and threw myself on the floor beside the benches. I opened my disgusting capri-sun wannabe and began to suck on it. I cringed at the taste.

There were two boys on the stairs. One obviously more displeased about the situation than the other. He crinkled the full bag and threw it across the clearing. If I had the balls and the same cripplingly low amount of braincells as he did, I would probably do the same.

The other boy, far more mature than the other, stood up after chugging his to throw his pouch away. He seemed to be taking the situation much better than the other. He had beautiful blonde hair and deep blue eyes. If he wasn’t in this hell hole, he could’ve been a child model.

The thought made me sad. What could’ve been. I could’ve been somebody.

Maybe you’ll get a fresh start in the next life.

 Apparently, I had zoned out far longer than I thought because the next thing I knew, a fight had broken out.

 If you could call a young boy threatened to be chucked off the ledge a fight anyway. He was soon thrown to the side with enough force to send him reeling.

 A well-dressed vampire walked with purpose down the stairs. Shoulders back, chin up. He seemed regal.

He certainly looked like royalty.

“Lord Ferid!” The little blonde boy ran up to him. The two seemed close enough, which sent my mind reeling.

How does a kid get that close with a nobleman like him? They seem friendly.

“Ah~ Mika!” The noble -presumably named Ferid- gave him a kind smile. “What on earth seems to be the matter?”

He talked like royalty too.

I couldn’t stop staring. After a few minutes of banter, the noble took his hand from the blonde’s face and sent him on his way. He had said something about meeting at his mansion. I brought myself up from the floor and chased after the blonde.

*

Two days after the talk with Mika, I stood at the noble’s door.

“If you give your blood, he’ll give you anything you want!”

I rose an eyebrow. “Really? Anything?”

Mika nodded proudly. “Yup! Though he’s busy tonight. But the day after I’d try it.”

Maybe he can take the pain away.

 I took a few controlled breaths. This screamed danger. It’s a vampire. They kill people

Why are you so scared? It’s not like your life could get worse.

I knocked on his door.

It swung open, seemingly on its own accord. The motion invited me in. Once I was past the threshold, I gently closed the door and looked inside.

There he sat, lounging on a tasteful white couch with gold accented frames. In the dim candlelight he almost resembled an angel.

An angel of death, perhaps?

He looked up from his book and turned his attention towards me. My body froze. I felt my self-confidence leave. Not like I had much left anyway.

He called my name, somehow. Mika must’ve told him or something. Though, something nagged at me. I don’t remember telling Mika my name. Mika hadn’t even told me his. It was all overheard. Then how?

“Come, sit.” He patted the seat next to him on the couch.

 I sat down on the chair across from him instead.

“Over here, my dear.” He patted the spot next to him louder, trying to coax me over like I were an animal.

Though, that’s probably how he saw my species anyway, isn’t it?

“My dearest Mika had told me about your visit a few nights ago. I wouldn’t have thought he would’ve told anyone about the little arrangement I have going on here, but I’m not complaining.” He sighed, seemingly content. “I wasn’t expecting someone of your age to be here, how are you still here? You have me curious.”

“If I’m honest, milord, I don’t quite know.” I said, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible. But the calculating feeling of his gaze made it harder. “Luck? Possibly?”

“Luck?” He leaned back and turned himself towards me. “Is it truly luck?”

“With all due respect, what’s that supposed to mean?”

You know what he means, and you know he’s right.

He smiled at me, not meeting my eyes. Ah. Okay.

“So, what are you hoping to get out of this?” He scooted closer. “As much as I’d like to think you’re here out of the kindness of your heart, we both know that isn’t the case, now is it?”

I nodded; heat crept its way up my face. “Yeah, but I suppose that doesn’t make me irregular.” I grumbled. “But I suppose that also makes me boring doesn’t it?”

He shrugged. “That entirely depends on you, my dear.”

I tugged at my uniform and cleared my throat. “Yeah I guess that’s fair.”

“Back to the topic at hand, yes?” He smiled and placed a gloved hand on my shoulder.

I suppressed a shudder. “Right. I guess I should cut to the chase.” I finally had the courage to look into his eyes.

Those damn eyes, despite the almost ravenous look in them, I couldn’t help but find them entrancing. Like shiny rubies in where his irises should be. He raised his eyebrows, awaiting an answer.

“Antidepressants.”

And I would’ve never thought his grin could get bigger. “Antidepressants? Now that’s something I haven’t heard before.”

In a place like this? Really? “I’m sure you would’ve heard everything by now.”

“And I thought I would’ve heard it all by now too. But I suppose not.” He ran his hand down my back

I gingerly grabbed his hand and put it back on his lap. “Sorry.” I mumbled.

“No~ Don’t apologize. It’s quite alright.” He folded his hands in his lap, he smiled at me. “If I were in a situation like yours, I don’t think I’d want to be touched either.”

My gaze fell. “Right. A situation like mine.” I slapped my cheeks gently to liven myself up. “Back to the deal though.”

“Actually, before we continue, what do you need them for? Medicine isn’t allowed down here unless regulated, considering how it effects the blood. Someone as old as you should know that.”

“Yeah, but why else would someone need antidepressants?”

He stared at me. His expression left no room for argument. He wanted an answer. His lips tugged into a smile. A kind looking one, but it left something unsaid.

“Why do you really need them?”

It’s not like you have anything else to lose, right? Tell him. You’ll feel better. He can make you better.

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair, leaning back onto the couch. “Look, how old do you think I am?”

“Too old to be here at this age, certainly.” He shrugged and made himself comfortable next to me. Close enough to grab me, but far enough not to invade my personal bubble.

“And why do you think that is?” I looked to the wall, hoping to find a distraction to focus on anything else but how close he was. But found nothing but pristine white.

“This world’s god is cruel.” He said. “It seemed they chose to bless you instead of damning you to the fate of your elders.”

I laughed. “Bless me?” I ran my hands faster through my hair, tugging at the ends to ground me. “What kind of blessing is this? I’m stuck down here to live until old age, vitamin deficiency or illness takes me? I’d rather be with my friends and family.”

You could join them. There’s plenty of spaces to do so. You could fly like an angel.

“You could always make your situation better.” His voice softened.

“That’s why I’m here.” I took my hands from my hair and began to fiddle with my identification tag. “I thought if I struck a deal with you, I’d get the opportunity to make things better. To make things as they should be.”

“But if you were to make things as they should be, then I know the real reason you want those pills, don’t you?”

“I didn’t mean it like that I—” I felt my throat close. Tears stung the back of my eyes, I fought desperately to bite them back.

This didn’t go unnoticed.

“You did, and it’s okay.” His hand made its way to my hair. I couldn’t find the strength to fight him. It’s not like he was going to harm me if he wanted this deal to work. “You know your very existence is a burden to you. And you want to fix it. You humans were always so independent.” He whispered. He paused to take off his glove and used his sharp nails to comb my hair. “But you know it’s okay to ask for help, right?”

 “Nobody would give me help. They wouldn’t understand or wouldn’t care. I’d rather just…” I swallowed hard.

“End it? Now don’t be ridiculous.” He placed my head on his shoulder, presumably for easier access. “What if there truly isn’t a happy end if you end it? You’d lament not fixing it while you could. And suicide isn’t beneficial to anyone, little lamb.” His hand reached to touch my face. Despite his hands being cold, something inside me warmed.

This can’t be right. It isn’t right. He’s a vampire he’s just like the rest of them—

But he cares.

No. He doesn’t he just wants me to think he does.

But what if he truly does care?

“Why are you even trying to talk me down? Wouldn’t it be better for you to just give me the pills and then you get a drink?” It’s not like I didn’t have a plan B if he said no.

“How selfish do you think I am? I’m wounded.” He pulled my head onto his lap, his hands playing with tufts and braiding the longer pieces. “Who would want someone else to take their life for the sake of a meal?”

I averted my eyes. I sounded like a dick now. “I didn’t think of it like that. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. That seems to be a nasty habit that you’ll have to break.” He said. “And I have an idea that could be beneficial to both of us in the long term, if you’re interested.” His hand moved my head to look up. I could see his furrowed brow and soft smile. I felt the remaining fears I had slowly dissipate.

“Yeah?”

“You can stay with me. I think I would miss you if you were gone.”

“You… You would?”

“Of course, I would. You’re full of untapped potential. And I think I could help ease those pains preventing them from coming to fruition.” He smiled. “All you have to do is say yes~.”

I slowly sat up, taking in his words.

He could make you feel wanted. You didn’t need to run anymore.

“I…”

You could have someone take care of you and like you for you, isn’t that all you’ve wanted? Someone who knows how to make things better? Someone who can save you?

“I think… I would like that.”

His smile reached his eyes. “As would I, my dear.” He hoisted me onto his lap. “Now, to seal the deal.” He unbuttoned the top few buttons of my uniform and removed my identification collar. “Have you ever been bitten directly?”

I shook my head.

“Now don’t worry. It won’t hurt for long. Like a pinprick.” He gave my nose a small bop. “Like a more organic needle. Just, try not to squirm too much. I don’t want to accidentally rip your internal carotid, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want that either.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay…” I tried to calm my nerves. “okay I can do this.”

He placed his hand on the small of my back and gently pushed me to his chest. “On the count of three, alright?”

I flexed my fingers, trying to ease my nerves. “Alright…”

“One…”

I felt his warm breath on my neck, making me tense.

He rubbed my head with his free hand. “Two…”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Three.”

It was much more painful than he had said. It felt like two spears digging perpendicularly into my skin. Slow and agonizing. I gripped his coat tightly. His hands continued to attempt to soothe me.

“Shhh~ The pain won’t last much longer.” He cooed. I could feel his lips moving on my skin at he talked.

The pain didn’t go away, but something arose within. The area where his fangs pierced me grew numb. I could still feel his fangs in my skin, its presence foreign. But it wasn’t uncomfortable.

It felt like warmth and welcome, if those feelings could resonate inside. My mind grew foggier. Pleasantly ignorant. I couldn’t hear anything else but the faint slurping and my own heartbeat. It was nice. I felt my eyes roll back and my body grow weaker. I gave Ferid’s coat a fatigued tug.

He pulled away slowly, and I whined at the loss. I slumped against his shoulder, the last of my remaining strength left along with his fangs.

His hand moved from the back of my head to my shoulders. He stood up with me in his arms. My eyes fought to stay open. I saw the faint image of Ferid’s face with a small stream of blood falling from his lips.

The light from the candle illuminated the space behind him, bathing him in a heavenly glow. He seemed a little livelier than before, too.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I tried to get a word out, but it came out a strangled whimper.

He smiled and shook his head, tutting softly. “I think I took too much, don’t you?” He walked down the hall with my limp body in his arms.

Ferid arrived in a large bedroom and placed me neatly under the covers and tucked me in. He sat next to me on my left side. He brushed a few stray hairs from my face and gave me a small kiss on the forehead.

“I do believe you need your rest. I’ll be back when you wake, my dear. I promise.” His hand moved from my forehead to my cheek as he gave it one final caress.

In my failing consciousness, I heard a gentle laugh

“Sleep well my lamb you’ll feel better in the morning. You’ll never feel empty again.”

And in the enveloping darkness, I saw him smirk.

#yandere seraph of the end #yandere ferid #ferid bathory #yandere owari no seraph #yandere writing #reader insert #yandere vampire