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minustwofingers · 1 year

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exoplanet p.3

pairing: ellie williams x fem! reader (ur a girly girl in this one!!) (she/her pronouns)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: (PLEASE READ!) explicit language, violence, description of a medical procedure sans anesthesia, recreational drug use (idk how else to put it ellie gets absolutely zonked in the beginning), reader overthinks asf and is a little neurotic but that's why we love her x

a/n: hey guys! thank you so much for the wait! it's been genuinely insane how sweet and incredible all of you are. i've never felt so appreciated for my writing!! also, some notes: this chapter is heavily inspired by my last relationship. sorry if it's not as immersive bc of it! and also i don't have ANY medical knowledge so...cast a blind eye when u get to that scene

part 1

part 2

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma

wc: 6.6k

enjoy x

“One more time.”

You gave Ellie a withering look from where you were sitting at the end of her bed.

“Please,” she said, drawing out the s. “Just once more. I promise.”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes—a habit of hers that you were quickly picking up—and took in a deep breath. “Fuck.”

Ellie lost it, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. “Another one. Say something else.”

“I don’t understand why you think this is so funny,” you said.

“You say it so weird.”

“I enunciate,” you clarified. “I don’t ‘sound weird’. It’s called pronouncing every letter in the word and not having a lazy mouth.”

“Please,” she gasped. “At least say bitch. You haven’t said that one yet.”

You looked her dead in the eye. “Bitch.”

If you weren’t already certain that Ellie was high out of her mind by the smell of her room and the general haze in the air, the way she howled with laughter and fell back on her bed would’ve made you entirely positive.

This was new. You’d begun to hang out with her in her room after dinner—that was normal—but when she’d knocked on your door smelling heavily of weed once you’d said goodnight to Joel, you were nothing less than shocked. Of course, she had none left for you. Which was probably good, because only a sober mind could navigate a night sitting on Ellie’s bed without doing something really, really stupid.

“I can’t believe you call me weird,” you said, tucking your feet under her and giving her a pointed look.

“You’re so lucky you didn’t grow up where I did,” Ellie said, wiping a tear away from her cheek as she tried (unsuccessfully) to rein in her giggles. “You would’ve been eaten alive, good lord.”

“What were you like as a kid?” you asked, resting your chin on your knees.

She considered for a moment, growing more somber. “Um…I don’t know if you would’ve liked me very much.”

“What do you mean? Of course I would’ve liked you.”

“No,” she said, swiping at her face so she pushed a strand of hair away. “I don’t think you would have.”

“Why not?”

“I was…” She paused, picking at her cuticles. “Back then I didn’t have anyone. I was an orphan, you know. My parents were never in the picture, so I was the only one I could count on. I was really rough around the edges and could be nasty. But I probably would’ve ignored you like I did everyone else. “

“Everyone? You didn’t have anyone? No friends at all?”

Ellie blinked, and her gaze remained fixed on her hands. “Basically, yeah. I mean, there was one girl, but that’s…I don’t want to talk about that right now, actually.”

“That’s okay,” you said, reaching forward to touch her knee. She flinched at the contact but didn’t brush you away. The image of a young, scared Ellie living somewhere alone made your chest ache. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“What were you like?” she asked, tilting her head and meeting your eyes.

“Hmmm…” Mirth crept into your tone. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Ellie echoed, her eyes cloudy as she thought. Then a small smirk formed on her face. “Oh god, were you one of those spoiled brats? Were you a mean girl?”

“God, no,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Not mean.”

“Then what?”

You paused. “I was really shy, I guess. And quiet, too. I didn’t do much but read for a good 10 years of my life. I used to have awful pronunciation because I would spend more time reading than talking to anyone. But I think I would’ve liked you.”

Ellie shook her head.

“Yes,” you said. “Maybe I would’ve been a little scared of you. I probably would’ve never had the courage to talk to you. But I would’ve liked you, I think.”

“Scared of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? I was a kid.”

“I was mostly going off of how I felt when I actually first met you,” you said, shrugging.

She gasped theatrically. “You’re scared of me?”

“No!” you said, smacking her knee. “That’s not what I mean. You’re just really intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” She looked at you incredulously.

“You’re so tough,” you explained, feeling heat grow in your cheeks. “You seem just—I don’t know, just so capable. There’s nothing you’re too afraid to face, nothing you’re too afraid to say.”

“That’s not true,” she said lightly.

“Well, of course I’m sure there are things that you’re afraid of,” you amended. “But you hide it so well. You just seem so…fearless.”

“Hm,” Ellie said, letting her head rest against the headboard. “I think you would’ve made me a nervous wreck. If we’d met when we were kids, I mean.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. You’re just so untouched.” She winced. “God, no. That sounds gross. I just mean…I dunno. I wouldn’t have known how to act around you. You haven’t had to harden up like everyone else I know.”

“Are you saying I should develop trust issues or something?” you asked, your voice a teasing lilt.

“You know,” she said, nodding seriously, “That is part of it. It was really off-putting how quickly you trusted me. But I guess that’s just a product of where you grew up.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I wonder how I would’ve turned out if I’d grown up like you.”

“Can I be honest?” Ellie asked.

“Sure.”

“I don’t think you’d still be here if you were me,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “No offense. You just have zero survival skills. I swear that shit has to be genetic. I’ve never met someone more averse to violence in my life.”

You sighed, pressed your hands deep into Ellie’s comforter as a thought hit you. “I think if you’d been born in my position, you would’ve been greater than anything either of us could ever dream of. Much greater than me.”

“Definitely not,” said Ellie. “There’s no fucking way I’m studying the way you apparently do. I honestly think I’d take being an orphan over the study schedule I saw in your bag.”

She was of course referencing the time table you’d roughly sketched up the morning before you’d ended up in Jackson. It was blocked to the minute, citing the study content and the location of said study session. She’d been beyond horrified to see it.

You laughed, nudging her socked food with yours.

“Is there music? In Terranova?”

“Oh,” you said, startled at the abrupt change of subject. “Uh, yeah. Of course. I listened to it all the time.”

“I used to have a Walkman,” she said, leaning back as she reminisced. She was lying flat on her back now. “It ended up breaking a while ago, but it was like my child.”

“Have you ever seen a movie before?” you asked, sitting up rigid straight as the thought occurred to you.

“Duh,” she said, giving you a weird look. “Do you think I live under a rock?”

“How many?”

“Hm.” Ellie began counting, ending on her second hand. “I think 6?”

“You’ve seen a total of 6 movies in your life?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to see more?”

She shrugged. “I mean, I guess. It’s just tough to find CDs that are still functional after so long.”

“Hold that thought,” you said, holding a finger in her direction as you stood up.

“Hey!” she called as you bolted out the door. “Where are you going?”

You came bounding back to her room in a matter of seconds, your laptop in your hands.

“What the fuck?” she said. “Isn’t that your homework thing?”

“Yes,” you said, feeling around for an outlet, “But I also have a ridiculous amount of movies downloaded on this. Our dorm wi-fi is shit and I have way too much storage on this thing, so I just download, like, every movie I’ve ever wanted to watch.”

“Your dorm what?”

You waved your hand. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to her how the 802.11 standard allowed wireless connections a few years after the outbreak. “Not important. Here, come look at this.”

Your laptop roared to light with the help of your charging cord. Quickly, you typed your password in and opened your downloads. Ellie hovered over your shoulder, squinting at the screen with confusion.

“Here,” you said, opening up the album that had everything you had seen for your entire university career and passing the laptop to Ellie. “Use the touchpad—there, yeah—to navigate. Press to click. These are all movie files that I’ve seen. We can watch them on my laptop. Some of them were filmed in Terranova, too, so they’re post-apocalypse.”

She perused the selection you had for quite some time, the glow of the screen lighting up her face against the dim room. “Okay. This one.”

And thus began a tradition. Each night after you’d finished showering and Joel retired to his room, Ellie would come knock on your door and ask if you wanted to come over. You’d talk for a while, then open your laptop and pick something out to watch. Ellie was never high after the first time, which was unsurprising considering that there definitely wasn’t a way to get any in Jackson. Where she found any the first time was still a mystery to you.

A week or so after your first patrol with Ellie, Joel had taken it upon himself to teach you how to shoot. You were surprisingly not as bad as you’d expected, but the rebound was tough to get used to, and you were still hung up over the whole “killing living things” part.

Your first patrol—first real one—came quickly, and before you knew it, Ellie was handing you the same gun you’d dropped the first time with a suspicious look.

“Don’t kill one of us with that thing,” she warned. “Be smart, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss,” you said to her, mock saluting as best you could while you were leading Japan to the mounting block.

She rolled her eyes. “Please act normal or I’ll make you carry around that glorified pocket knife instead again.”

The patrol began as usual, Ellie leading you down the same path you went last time. It was a beautiful day out, with the early spring sun filtering through the evergreen trees that populated the woods and birdsong filling the air.

Though conversations with Ellie were getting easier (given that it actually seemed like she wanted to talk to you now), you were still starstruck. Nothing that you did and nothing that you thought could get you to stop seeing her the way you did. You were routinely distracted by everything about her. It was a wonder that you could even function as a normal person around her, much less handle a weapon and a horse.

You two had nearly made the full rotation when your surroundings exploded in action.

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed as someone behind you two fired a shot that narrowly missed Shimmer.

You whipped around, gun in hand, to see two men—two normal men who weren’t infected. One held a bow, the other a gun.

The one who had fired the first shot never even stood a chance. He was down on the ground seconds after you’d seen him, Ellie’s aim taking him out before you could even ready your gun.

The second man notched an arrow and managed to draw it back and release into the air right as Ellie’s bullet struck him, sending him falling back.

“I don’t think there’s any more,” said Ellie, slightly breathless as she scanned the forest. “Sometimes outsiders pull this shit—try to kill us for our supplies. I’ve never seen them this close to the wall, though. I’ll have to tell Maria and Tommy.”

Normally, you would’ve felt up to making some sort of sarcastic comment about how that was a really unconcerning thing for her to tell you and that you actually felt so much more comfortable going on patrol knowing that there were also just run-of-the-mill people trying to kill you, but a twinge in your lower body distracted you.

Slowly, nervously, you looked down. Air immediately left your lungs.

“At least we’re done,” Ellie was saying, wiping her hands off on her thighs and slinging the gun over her shoulder. “What a crazy end for your first actual patrol, huh?”

When you didn’t answer, she turned to you and saw the arrow sticking out of your side,

“Shit,” said Ellie, jumping off Shimmer and reaching you in seconds. “Shit, shit, shit. Oh god.”

“Am I going to die?” you asked, staring starstruck at the blood escaping the outline of the arrowhead. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Were you in shock?

“No,” said Ellie firmly. “Absolutely not. Do you need help getting off?”

Before you could answer, she was already helping you down, carefully avoiding the protruding arrow.

“Listen,” she said, back to being her unwavering self, “We’re right by the wall. I’m going to help you walk in, and then I’ll grab some supplies, okay? Don’t try to pull the arrow out. You hear me? Don’t.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. She helped you walk the few steps to be carefully concealed by the wall, then grabbed the two horses and darted past you, making a break for Maria and Tommy’s cabin.

In a haze of confusion, you could see Maria running out, holding a box out to Ellie in exchange for the reins of the horses. Ellie said something that made Maria point towards you. She nodded, then ran back to you.

By the time that she’d reached you, the shock had begun to wear off, replaced by the stinging pain from the object that had impaled you. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before in your life, and it took all you had not to keel over.

“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your face so you had to look at her. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve done this before, okay? I’m, like, the master. It’s going to be alright.”

“Done what before?” you managed to grind out.

Ellie let go of your face to dig through the box Maria had given her, producing a needle, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and what looked like a spool of thin thread.

Horror slowly trickled through you as you realized what was about to happen.

“It doesn’t look all that deep,” Ellie was saying as she examined the arrow. “So I don’t think it’s hit anything. It’s just going to be a nasty hole. I’m going to pull it out now, okay?”

You let out a strangled scream as she grasped the arrow’s end and yanked it out without warning.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ellie repeated. She threw the arrow over her shoulder and knelt so she was hovering over you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you gasped. You were most certainly not. You couldn’t quite get your eyes to focus, and your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Alright,” she said firmly, grasping your shoulders and pulling you up so you were slumped against the wall. “Sit up straight, alright? Also, this is going to hurt.”

At first there were just snipping sounds as she cut part of your shirt away—then something cool and wet pressed to your wound. You cried out again as a fresh white hot pain bloomed in your middle.

“I know, I know.” Ellie’s voice was consoling as she reached up to brush away the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Just a few more seconds.”

“Fuck—off—” you gritted out from your teeth.

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Just this once.”

She released the alcohol-saturated cotton pad, throwing it aside and fussing with the thread and needle until she was satisfied.

By the time her fingers were ghosting over your abdomen again, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the puncture wound and the needle she was wielding.

“Don’t look,” said Ellie. “Pick something else. You don’t need to watch.”

“I hate needles,” you whispered, choosing the air over her shoulder to be your focal point.

There was a prodding at the top of your wound, and you hissed.

“I can’t say I’m a fan myself.”

Something pierced through your skin, and your midriff exploded in pain.

The edges of your sight went fuzzy, stars forming in the corners of your vision. Someone that sounded suspiciously like you cried out. Your cheek rammed up against something solid and warm.

Once the initial sting had faded, you realized that you’d slumped into Ellie, your face buried into her neck. She didn’t make any move to push you off, instead just taking one hand to brush up and down your arm with a feather light touch.

“You're fine," she said firmly. "Everything's going to be fine."

Your fingers curled around the hem of her shirt as the needle exited through the other end of your wound, pulling another whine from your throat. It was easier to not feel like you were about to pass out when you were crushed into Ellie, clinging onto her and just focusing on the way she felt against you.

“Hang on, I'm almost there,” she muttered a few stitches later. You’d quieted down, only letting out the occasional gasp as she pulled the thread through. “You're doing so well. Just one more.”

Now that you were more conscious, you had no idea how she was managing to stitch your side while you were nearly on her lap, but she continued to weave her needle through your skin, pulling it taut.

“And done,” said Ellie. You felt her take another cotton square to swipe against your skin.

You laid against her for a few more moments, panting as the shock slowly began to fade. She shifted, and for a moment you were sure that she was going to shove you away, but then the hand she’d lifted hesitantly rested on your head, her fingers parting to card through your hair.

“How did you learn how to do that?” you asked, your voice muffled from where you were pressed against her.

“Trial and error.”

Her joke was enough for you to finally let go, sitting back against the wall. Her hand slithered out of your hair, resting back in her lap.

“Shut up,” you said. “That’s awful.”

Ellie shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling the bumpiness of the stony wall press into your back. “I have a really low pain tolerance.”

“So I’ve noticed,” said Ellie, the side of her mouth quirking.

“I’ve never been hurt before,” you heard yourself saying. “Like, beyond the occasional splinter or bee sting or accidental scrape or ankle sprain. It’s just not something that happens.”

“Must be nice.”

You smiled sadly. “Yeah. It’s not nice being weak, though.”

Ellie looked away from you then, silent as she packed up the first-aid kit. Then: “I don’t think that’s true.”

She’d said it lightly, like it was meant to be an offhand comment, a throwaway addition that wouldn’t be remembered by either of you. But the sentiment still struck you, twisting your heart.

You were less capable because your survival had never required anything more. You were weak because you could be.

Her voice from the night she’d been high floated back to you. You haven't had to harden up like everyone else I know.

Out here, weakness was a luxury few could afford.

“Not so untouched anymore, huh?” you said, since you didn’t know how else to respond.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” quipped Ellie. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. I still consider needing to be held to get 4 stitches as being soft. You haven’t changed a bit. No offense.”

Your cheeks burned bright red. “I—”

“I’m teasing,” she said before you could defend yourself. “Arrow wounds suck. I get it.”

“Right.” You turned away, keeping your gaze fixed firmly on the ground beside you. With feeling more yourself came the inevitable shame at what you’d just done. What had you been thinking, touching her like that? Grabbing onto her like that?

This was going to haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Don’t make that face,” said Ellie. “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It really is fine.”

It was not fine. It would never be fine. You wanted the thugs to come back to life and finish you off, and then have the earth open up and swallow you for good measure.

Ellie probably thought of you as an overgrown child. You doubted that there was ever a point where she could see you as anything equal. If she ever knew how often she appeared in your imagination, she’d probably be disgusted.

She called you pretty a contrarian voice in your head reminded you. Don't you remember?

But maybe she hadn’t meant it. She hadn’t said it explicitly: “Y/N, I think you’re pretty.” She just hadn’t argued when you’d pointed it out. Maybe because she was being nice, or maybe because she was actually being sarcastic.

“You were really brave, okay?” said Ellie. “Your first armed confrontation and you did well.”

“I didn’t shoot anyone.”

“It could have gone worse,” said Ellie. “You could’ve accidentally shot me. Or died. And neither of those things happened, so that’s successful in my book.”

“That’s very glass half-full of you.”

“That’s me. Ever the optimist.”

You snorted.

That night, Ellie knocked on your door and asked you if you were up for another movie. You found yourself sitting on her comforter, plugging in your computer and booting it up minutes later.

Physically speaking, it had always been a little awkward to fit two people on her twin bed if they weren’t right next to each other, given that your laptop screen was a very unimpressive size. When you’d first started watching with her, Ellie would rest against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of you while you would sit with your legs crossed, positioned sideways so you weren’t accidentally pushing her legs off.

But after the day you had had, your back was sore and your whole body ached. Sitting on something soft without any back support as you angled yourself to look at the screen was quickly proving unsustainable.

“Pause,” said Ellie about ten minutes in. You’d been watching an older sci-fi flick—Ellie’s choice.

You complied, leaning forward and pressing the spacebar. “What’s up?”

“Are you even comfortable sitting like that?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Liar,” accused Ellie, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t think I don’t see you ‘discreetly’ cracking your back every 2 minutes. It’s ruining the movie.”

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head and smiling in exasperation. “It’s from all the years I spent hunched over a textbook.”

“You know, you can sit up here,” she said, patting the space beside her. “I don’t bite.”

“Jury’s still out on that,” you said, though by the time Ellie let out a laugh you were already unfolding your legs and moving so you were next to her.

She leaned forward, grabbing the bottom half of the laptop and lifting it. “Hey, do you want a blanket?”

“Sure.”

Ellie’s other hand grabbed the edge of her comforter and held it up.

Hesitantly, you slid your legs under and watched as Ellie did the same, awkwardly holding the laptop in the air before you were both settled enough to rest it on your covered right thigh and her left. “Better?”

When you nodded, she reached her tattooed arm out and pressed play. The audio picked back up, but you couldn’t for the life of you focus on the movie.

When Ellie had asked if you’d wanted a blanket, you were expecting her to toss the throw blanket that would really only fit one person at you, not invite you to get under the blankets with her. That was significantly more intimate.

You two were sitting close enough that your sides were touching, from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her chest lift with each breath, feel the heat coming off of her.

After a while, Ellie properly laid down, taking the laptop and hoisting it up so it rested on her lower abdomen as she settled into her pillow.

You gulped, your eyes flickering between her face and the screen. Ellie’s gaze was fixed intently on the screen, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion.

You could be tired too. You weren’t, of course—your heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. But she didn’t know that. It was normal to lay down next to her, right? You’d done that with Irena more times than you could count, and it was never weird. Yeah, you could do that.

Also, if you were totally horizontal, you would stop getting distracted by the sliver of her skin that her crooked shirt showed of her chest.

In a moment of blind courage, you scooted down so your head was lying right next to Ellie’s. She didn’t seem to react, just extending her hand from under the covers to steady the laptop as it wobbled from the movement.

Her sheets smelled like the soap that you used to wash your hair—a cottony freshness that had the slightest hint of lavender.

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” asked Ellie after a while, her voice nothing more than a whisper.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you responded, equally quiet. Then, because you hadn’t made enough rash decisions for the night, you angled your head so it rested in the space right above her shoulder.

She inhaled sharply but didn’t move. On her next exhale a piece of her auburn hair tickled your forehead.

“How’re your stitches?” she asked suddenly, like she'd just remembered.

“They’re okay. I think. As stitches go.”

“After this is over, I’ll check on them,” she said. “Don’t let me forget, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy. It was one thing for her to cut off your shirt and see your skin when she was trying to save your life while you were mentally gone. It was another thing altogether to pull up your shirt without adrenaline coursing through you.

You didn’t pay any attention to the rest of the movie, instead hyperfocused on the rhythm of Ellie’s breathing and the fact that if you moved just a little your chin would be on her shoulder.

Her mention of the stitches wasn’t helping at all, either. Now all you could think about was the embarrassing way you’d basically tried to crawl under her skin, burying your face into her and clutching at her clothes like you were a child.

A part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t been more lucid at the time. If you had, you would’ve been able to clearly remember the softness of her skin against yours. You would’ve been able to enjoy it for what it was—the only time you’d be able to touch her like that.

Because you couldn’t go around just grabbing onto her shirt and getting into her lap. That was a one-off, the only time that the rules were waived. You couldn’t touch her like that now, now that you didn’t have any excuse. It wasn’t allowed.

But sometimes you wanted to so badly that it hurt.

The movie ended abruptly, wrenching you out of your thoughts.

“Hey,” whispered Ellie. “Sit up so I can see.”

Reluctantly, you pressed yourself up from your back and began rolling up the hem of your shirt. Ellie twisted to face backwards, her thin top riding up and showing part of her back as she reached for the lamp.

Once golden light returned to the room, Ellie turned back and bumped your hands away. She bent over, tilting her head so that she was looking at the stitches straight on.

They didn’t look bad, you had to admit. Though you wouldn’t consider the actual experience of getting the stitches a 5-star experience, Ellie had clearly known what she was doing. The surrounding flesh didn’t look angry or irritated, and she’d pulled the stitches just tight enough without it puckering.

She prodded at the side, then gave a satisfied nod. “Looks good. What did I tell you? I’m really good at this sort of stuff.”

“I think you would’ve made a really good doctor,” you said once she’d sat up straight again. “Under different circumstances.”

“Is this you telling me that you don’t think I’m a good doctor now?” she teased.

“Your bedside manner could use some work,” you offered.

Ellie laughed then, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, yeah. You lived. You'll get over it.”

“Did you go to school?” you found yourself asking, hung up on the thought of Ellie as a potential medical student. If she’d been in one of your intro biology classes, you never would’ve been able to pay attention. That was a fantasy you could shelve away for later.

“Sort of,” said Ellie, looking down at her arms. “I went to a military prep school run by FEDRA. I didn’t graduate though—obviously. I was long gone by then.”

“Right,” you said, remembering that she’d mentioned that she’d been 14 when she’d left Boston. “And what was it like?”

She paused, opening her mouth before closing it. “It was—unkind. Joel's told me about schools before the outbreak. It was nothing like that. There were some normal classes, but most of it was meant to prepare us to be soldiers.”

“Is that where you learned how to do sutures?”

“Among other things.”

Terranova had no military academies, given that there was hardly any military presence. The founder of Terranova had bodyguards and there was a police force that controlled the borders, but it was nothing like Ellie described. With invisible borders and a social order that valued peace and tranquility over all else, there was no real danger posed to any of the citizens.

But from what you had learned from movies and books and comments from older people, you had gathered a very dim picture of what a military academy looked like—harsh, strict, and cruel.

“I’m sorry you had to grow up like that,” you said.

“It’s okay.”

“Is there anything you would want to study? If you could?”

Ellie’s eyes closed. “Yeah. There are a couple things.”

She did not elaborate.

It didn’t take long for you two to settle back into your routine of meeting in her room each evening and watching one of your downloaded movies. Following the night after you’d gotten your stitches, you wouldn’t even have to ask—Ellie would pull up her comforter and let you slide in next to her without giving you a second glance.

You’d also gotten over the fear of touching her. Now, when you flopped back so your head was on her pillow, you’d adjust until you were nestled into the crook of her neck. She never once reacted to it, remaining perfectly still unless she was adjusting the laptop or messing with the sound.

Because it was normal, of course. You and Irena would rest your head on each other’s shoulders sometimes. That was something that friends did.

One night a week or so into April, you and Ellie made a harrowing discovery: there was only one movie left in your collection that you two hadn’t seen together.

“Damn,” said Ellie, furrowing her brow. “And there’s no way to get more on here?”

“I’m afraid not,” you said, frowning. “To download more or stream one, I’d need either an Ethernet cable or a wi-fi connection. Neither of which function out here anymore without cell towers and maintained cables.”

“Right,” said Ellie, though her face told you that she didn’t understand a word that had come out of your mouth. “So—this is it?”

“Yeah.” Your finger hovered over the play button. “Savor it, I guess.”

When you settled back and into her side, the heavy weight of dread settled into your stomach. Now that you’d finished showing her your entire collection, it’s not like she’d have a reason to invite you over every night. And there was especially no reason for you two to lie so closely together unless you were both trying to watch something on a small screen.

Once again, your excuse to touch her was gone.

You pressed closer to her as your mind raced. There was no way that Ellie didn’t see what you were doing as platonic, right? Was it possible that she was creeped out by how touchy you were but just tolerated it to be nice?

Maybe. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen. Ellie didn’t see you like…like that. She spoke to you like you were an obligation, a burden. Because you always had been. You’d been a responsibility thrust on her by a father figure who felt like he was indebted to you from that stupid bag of coffee you were lucky enough to bring.

Oh, god. Had Joel told her to befriend you? Had he asked for Ellie to pretend like she enjoyed spending time with you and to put up with your privileged, soft-hearted nonsense?

The knowledge that you were spiraling wasn’t enough to stop you. You did the best that you could—tried to remind yourself that it’d been a while since she’d looked disgusted with you, recall that she was outspoken enough to tell you to fuck off if you did something she didn’t like—but it was to no avail.

Ellie reached forward and hit pause on the movie, thrusting you both into silence.

“Is everything okay?” she asked after a moment.

“Yeah, why?”

“I can feel your heart going, like, crazy fast.”

You froze. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just thinking.”

Ellie pushed the laptop off of her, sitting up to give you an odd look. “About a near death experience or something? You running a marathon up there? That shit’s not normal.”

You laughed nervously. “It’s really nothing. Just an, uh, suspenseful movie.”

Which was actually really stupid of you to say, because you were watching some obscure Tarkovsky film that did nothing but pan over burning buildings and pensive men. For the past 5 minutes, there had been nothing on screen but the back of a car driving through traffic with minimal sound. Also, it was in Russian, and the English subtitles made zero sense.

There was a reason why this was the last movie you chose.

“This is the most boring fucking movie I’ve ever watched in my life, so you’re a dirty fucking liar,” said Ellie. Then her face pinched in worry. “Wait. Have you taken a look at your stitches lately?”

Before you could answer, she was grabbing a flashlight off her nightstand and yanking the comforter off you. She was pulling your shirt up when you finally found your voice.

“Wait!” you said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and yanking it back in place. “It’s not—I don’t have an infection, okay? There’s nothing wrong with me. I really was just thinking, okay?”

“About what?” She reached back to place her flashlight back on the stand without taking her eyes off you.

“It’s nothing important.”

“If you say so.”

She picked the laptop up and placed it back on her thighs, lying back down. You followed suit, but this time you didn’t touch her, opting to keep as much distance as you could so she wouldn’t hear the stuttering of your heart.

Not even 5 minutes had passed before Ellie sat up to pause the video again.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Why?”

“You’re acting weird,” she accused, but there wasn’t much conviction behind her voice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re acting weird,” she repeated, shutting your laptop off and moving it to the bottom of her bed, despite the protests that left your lips.

“I don’t understand,” you said. “I’m just watching the movie. I’m not doing anything. “

“You’re not watching the movie,” she said. “You weren’t even looking at the screen. What’s got you so bothered? Did I do something?”

“Of course not.” You pulled your legs under you so your legs were crossed and your back was against the wall. “You don’t need to worry. It’s honestly fine. I’m sorry if I’ve done something to imply otherwise.”

Ellie rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing. “You stress me out. You can just tell me, you know? No need to be so cagey. I promise I’ve heard worse.”

“Don’t be so quick to say that.”

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” she said. “I’m never going to know peace again with a hook like that.”

You were about to open your mouth to tell her that it was stupid and that it didn’t matter, but something stopped you.

That was the coward’s way out. That’s what you’d always done—hid your feelings and concealed your emotions. That’s how you’d been raised. That’s how you thought everyone was. But now that you’d spent 2 months in Jackson, you’d realized that some people actually just said what they thought. And that, in the grand scheme of things, it was a better system than the Terranovian culture of superficiality.

Just because the you 2 months ago would have shook her head and changed the subject didn’t mean the you now had to.

Maybe this you could be different. Maybe, for once, this you could be brave.

“I really—” You stopped yourself. Saying I really like you didn’t even begin to encompass what you felt for the girl sitting across from you. To distill the sheer magnitude of your feelings down to four words felt criminal. The swell in your chest that never went away whenever you were near her could never and would never be adequately represented in the puny offerings of the Latin alphabet and the English language, and if you were going to do this, you were going to do it right.

You dared to look up at her for a moment. She was completely still, her green eyes reflecting the dim moonlight from outside. Once you met her gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull it away.

“I’m really sorry that I’m putting you in an uncomfortable position for saying this,” you began (because old habits ran deep, and you would rather die than be impolite), “And I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to me after this. And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

“As much as I’m sure that this is some sort of cultural cornerstone for you, please spare me the 6 foot long disclaimer script,” Ellie drawled.

“Right.” You gulped. “Anyway. As I was saying.”

“Any day now.”

At that moment, she had never looked more perfect. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark lighting, so the weak moonlight that spilled in from the window above her created a halo around her head.

“It’s you.” Your voice came out tiny. “You’re all that I can think about, and I don’t know what to do.”

There. It was off your chest.

For a moment, it was as if you’d suspended time, stopping Earth on its axis as you both held your breaths. There was nothing but silence and the occasional wooden creak of the old house’s foundation in the wind.

Ellie’s face betrayed nothing, save for something in her eyes and the disappearance of the smirk that had been on her lips moments before.

Then she spoke, her response whispered.

“Come here, then.”

final a/n: NOW HOLD ON before you show up outside my dorm with pitchforks and torches 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i'm so sorry but this was a necessary evil as this was going to a massive scene without the chapter break. also a disproportionately massive chapter compared to the other ones coming out. i write very quickly and should get the following part out in a timeframe similar to the first 3 parts. thank u for reading ! tell me what you think abt this chapter while you wait x

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams self insert #ellie williams x oc #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams imagine

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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

Note

CHUBBY! READER X ALASTOR

I'm soooo sorry that I'm requesting something else this just came to me and I needed your storytelling expertise to bring it to life 😢

ALSO ALSO ALSO this one has a trigger warning so please read with the thought that YOURE PERFECT!!!😤(if you write it)

OTAY OTAY soooooooooooo reader has been apart of the hotel for awhile and has developed a crush on Alastor from afar and the small instances they do cross paths but hesitates to approach him on her own because well we're shy and HES THE RADIO DEMON anyway reader doesn't have to worry about distance between them because Alastor is AVOIDING HER ALL ON HIS OWN 😯 AND somehow reader gathers the courage to approach Alastor but sees his relationship with Rosie (they're besties, platonic soulmates definitely) and thinks 'wow, she's so beautiful and...thin' and proceeds to lock herself away from everyone (SOLITUDE) and skips meals (starving herself), Alastor is the first to notice shes missin and pulling away but doesn't know how to approach her without stumbling over his words (i like to think that hes a heartbreaker to other women like his fans but with someone that he likes with real feelings hes fumbling in the dark because he could get rejected instead, i will die on the hill) so so so he hesitates to ask reader whats wrong till he hears her throwing up or she says something awful about herself and Alastor gets angry on her behalf and reader goes silent, only for Alastor to take a breath and tell her that 'shes hurting herself, for a shallow reason such as looks', and reader goes 'i thought you liked to watch others downfalls' and then hes like 'not your downfall, never you' 😔 reader starts to cry and shouts "im not Rosie', confused Alastor finally starts putting the pieces together and grabs reader hands and sincerely says "good, i wouldn't rosie anyhow, or anyone else for that matter', reader continuing to cry tells him to stop lying that this joke isn't funny and Alastor kissies her hand as says "whos joking? I only want you, your perfect" then then then slowly Alastor starts to help reader look at themselves in a more positive light [[fit this in somewhere???????Alastor tells reader why hes so close to rosie (he's clueless about reciprocated love so he goes to Rosie because canon that she knows matters of the heart...right?)]]

A/N as always i am obsessed with your request. Also I 100% agree with the assessment of Alastor's ability to talk to people he actually likes. I am literally so obsessed with this request. Also I am assuming from your previous comments you wanted the same bunny demon character?? Please forgive me if I am wrong but I did it for her (because I love her dearly and she is based of meeeee and I'm egotisticalllllll). Kisses bestie <3 <3

Downfall (Alastor x Chubby!Bunny Demon!Reader)

Paring: Alastor x Reader

Word Count: 4,076 (I got a little carried away)

Warnings: BODY IMAGE ISSUES!!! EDS!!!! I think that's it but they're in all caps for a reason so if you have ED issues maybe don't read this one??? It is hurt//comfort tho so maybe do???? Idk. If you get triggered by ed descriptions, don't. If having a fictional character tell you you're perfect the way you are and beg you to stop destroying yourself because they can't bear to watch would help you, do.

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

It had taken months. Months of wondering what he was like, of stolen glances, of furtive daydreams. Months of building up courage, of backing down, months of hoping and dreaming. It had taken endless encouragement from Angel, countless pages in her diary. It had taken a million deep breaths, ten thousand trembles of her hands. Months, it had taken months.

It wasn't like Y/n had never spoken to the man before. That wasn't really the issue. She wasn't scared of him, just scared. The simple idea of being alone with him was an intoxicating mixture of terror and utter bliss. Y/n didn't know how to handle it, she didn't know how to handle him.

Alastor was untouchable, nearly semi-divine in her eyes. Sure, he was fucked up, but they all were. At the end of the day, his facade was as easy to see through as a cheap paper crown from a Christmas cracker. Beneath the wide smile, the sharp teeth, the stories, Alastor was just a man. He cared deeply for the world around him, for the people around him and those in his life. No matter how hard he tried to disguise it, it always shone through to Y/n.

It wasn't like she had never spoken to Alastor before, she had just never spoken to him alone before. Every interaction they had ever had was as a part of the larger group of Hotel residents and staff. On the rare occasion they ran into one another in the hallway or happened to each be in the kitchen at the same time, Y/n froze up. Words turned to stones in her stomach and all she could ever seem to manage was a gentle nod, a shaky smile. It frustrated her to no end.

Finally, she had worked up the courage to talk to him. It was all Angel's idea really, she would never have had the thought to do such a thing on her own but his pushing had been relentless and at last, Y/n had agreed.

And it had taken months, months! This was her third attempt to go up to him. They had even lowered the stakes, Angel saying all she had to do was have a single normal conversation with the man and he would let her off the hook, stop his pestering and teasing. It was just her luck, really just her god damn luck.

Sir Pentious had informed Y/n that Alastor had left the hotel to see a friend, Charlie had given her the address of the cafe he had said he would be at should they need him. Everyone was all smiles, all encouragement. Y/n reminded herself to yell at Angel later for spilling her secret although, she guessed she shouldn't have expected anything else from the hotel's biggest gossip.

Putting on her favorite outfit, her hair all done up and makeup perfect, Y/n had slicked her ears flat against her head in determination and stepped out onto the streets of Pentagram City. It didn't take long for her to find the place, a sweet little cafe on the outskirts of Cannibal Town with white wrought iron chairs and a cheerful pink and purple sign. It hadn't taken her long to spot the bright red of Alastor's suit through the window either, standing out against all the muted purples and dark blacks of the other cannibals enjoying their meals within.

"It's fine. It's totally not weird that you're going up to him in a cafe he's having lunch in with a friend, that you.... oh my god Y/n!! He's gonna think you were stalking him! You should just go back and- no! You promised. Y/n, you can do this."

She took a deep breath, centering herself in that little core, that rod of who she was, that shot down the center of her being. Raising a closed fist to her chest, she shut her eyes.

"You can do this, Bunny." she reaffirmed, "You can do this."

Opening her eyes, she crossed the street. Her hand was inches away from the door's handle, her heart racing but set on what she was about to do, when Y/n noticed exactly who Alastor's 'friend' was.

Across the table from him, sipping delicately on a cup of tea, was the most beautiful demon Y/n thought she had ever laid eyes on. She had long, dainty fingers, thin and spidery, and the most perfectly proportioned body. She was tall, long legs sheltered by her skirt and a tiny waist that threw her hips and chest into contrast. The woman's hair was neat, tucked up beneath a wide brimmed hat. Her clothes were classy, her smile was bright and charming, the black holes of her eyes were... were... were everything. She was everything, everything Y/n wasn't.

Suddenly, the weight of her own body against her bones became all too real. She felt the urge to never be touched again, the same strange sickness of her youth sinking its teeth into the softness of her stomach, her thighs, her arms, all of her. Her hand lowered from the handle, Alastor laughing at something the woman had said to him. He seemed relaxed, more at peace than Y/n had ever seen the man before. If that wasn't love, she didn't know what was.

It took a second for the other residents of the Hazbin Hotel to realize the change. Y/n was good at this, she'd had practice. For years, she had worked to move past it all but the threat of a relapse had always hung over her head. It was her sword of Damocles, her fated demise.

Y/n retreated in to herself, she couldn't get the image of that woman out of her head. Poised, statuesque, thin. God, Y/n had never wanted anything more than she wanted to be thin. She wanted to rip fistfuls of flesh from her body, she wanted to wither away so only something beautiful remained.

Alastor was the first to notice. He had a soft spot for the rabbit demon who always seemed to be full of that soft, discrete joy and unending kindness. She was a more toned down version of Charlie. She was genuine and completely herself, no holds bared. She had such a hope, she had such a goodness, it made him wonder why she hadn't ended up in Heaven instead.

The truth was, behind the bravado and the grin, Alastor was scared of Y/n. He was scared he would touch her and she would rot away or worse, that she would run. She was just so good, so intrinsically wondrous, and he was the opposite. She was a fresh rose and he was the person coming haplessly along with a pair of gardening shears. She was radiant, she was carved fresh from marble, he was down bad.

Women had never been a priority or a problem for Alastor. Living and dead, they flocked to him. He knew his reputation was to blame, not to mention his looks. They could be fun for a while. Alastor saw charming them as a game, a good way to pass the time. This was different, Y/n was different. Alastor didn't know what to do so, he did nothing. He avoided her like the plague and when he couldn't, he practically ignored her, barley spared her a word.

Alastor was untethered, completely in the dark and so, he did what everyone does when they feel like that: he went to talk to his best friend. When he had gotten back to the hotel after his rather illuminating little chat with Rosie, Charlie had asked him if he had seen Y/n. It felt like divine chance, a cruel joke of fate, that the demon Princess would bring up the very source of his problems so soon after having at last pushed past his pride to ask for help.

When he had revealed the truth to the gang, that no, he had not in fact seen Y/n, they seemed deflated. There had been some sighs, some shrugs, shared glances he didn't understand and then everything had gone back to normal except, it wasn't quite normal.

Where Y/n could normally be found causing trouble, making mischief with the people who had so quickly become her friends since she had started her stay at the hotel out in the open, there was now a distinct lack of her jovial presence. She began taking her plates to her room at meals, showing up to group activities less and less, claiming she was tired or had a stomach ache. Alastor noticed every time he did manage to catch a glimpse of the marvelous and strange creature who had captured his affections so, she seemed utterly exhausted. Y/n was always bundled up, even on the warmest of days.

He wanted to go talk to her, wanted to ask her if she was okay. Alastor was worried -- genuinely worried -- about her. The only thing that stopped him from knocking every time he passed her perpetually closed door, was that he knew himself too well. He knew that the minute he entered, he'd lose his courage, that the words would become mush in his mouth.

It was pure chance, right place wrong time, that he heard it. Alastor had been following his normal routine, heading up to his radio tower for a broadcast after a group activity. Today had been Operation Navigation! As Charlie had dubbed it. She and Vaggie had built an obstacle course and everyone had a partner who was blindfolded and had to be guided through. When they got to the other end, the pairs had switched. Miraculously, Y/n had shown up to this event.

Alastor had watched her carefully, noting her sluggish movements and the way it took her a second to fully register what anyone was saying in a given moment. It was out of the ordinary and his worry only grew. He knew he was going to have to do something about it eventually but just didn't know how. Maybe it would require another visit to Rosie.

As he walked past the lobby bathroom, Alastor was pulled from his thoughts. The door was slightly ajar, sending shards of light out into the darkened hallway.

"Why isn't it working!"

Came the hushed yell of defeat. It was Y/n's voice, he'd know it anywhere. Alastor stopped walking.

"Why do I have to be..."

There was a sniff, the sound of something hitting the wall. Alastor realized it had been Y/n at the sound of fabric against the wallpaper. He could see her in his minds eye as she slid down the wall, pulling her knees into her chest.

"Why can't I just be skinny."

Y/n's words were muffled, soft and shaky.

"Why can't I just be pretty. Why do I have to be... to be..." her words were briefly broken by a sob, "why can't I just be good. I can't even fucking starve myself right. I wish..."

Alastor's body reacted before his mind could catch up, he knocked gently on the door. There was a little yelp of surprise from within, a few sniffs and some rustling fabric.

"Yeah?"

Y/n's voice trembled as she tried to keep the tears at bay.

"May I come in?"

Alastor heard the sharp intake of breath. It was too late to back down now. The silence was thick between them, it felt eternal.

"Okay." Y/n agreed at last, her voice small, and Alastor stepped into the room.

It was exactly how he had imagined it. Y/n was huddled on the floor next to the door, her knees tucked up under her chin and her arms holding her shins tightly. Alastor noticed that the thick, woolen sweater she had been wearing earlier had been tossed to the side, laying haphazardly beside the sink. Y/n sniffed again, trying to smile.

"Everything okay?" she asked and Alastor fixed his eyes back on her.

Y/n's eyes were rimmed with red. Her ears lay limply around her face which was stained with tears. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, she shivered.

"No. It's not."

She seemed a bit taken aback by his answer, not having grasped the reality of the cracked door earlier.

"I don't... what's wrong?"

"You are starving yourself." Alastor replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

Y/n's eyes went wide.

"Fuck... I... fuck!" she buried her face in her knees, "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"Are you trying to die!?" Alastor asked,

He didn't mean to yell, he didn't mean to be this angry. Everything he said seemed to send shockwaves of regret through his body. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"Are you... I just... are you stupid?!"

Y/n looked up at him again, her eyes wet with fresh tears.

"I-"

"You what." Alastor scoffed, "You want to be pretty?"

"I..."

"You want to be pretty so you lock yourself away? You make your friends watch as you... as you what, as you get thin? As you destroy yourself?"

She was crying now, truly crying. Alastor looked away, a hand to his head. He took a deep breath, everything was going wrong. When he looked at her again, her cheeks were flushed from a mixture of shame and hurt.

"I just..." he took another deep breath, sinking to his knees before her, "Why would you hurt yourself so badly for something as.. as shallow as your looks?"

Y/n sniffled, frantically trying to wipe away her tears.

"What, I thought you liked to watch other people's downfalls." she tried to shoot back at him but her words came out stuttering and broken through the thickly falling tears.

Y/n refused to meet Alastor's gaze. Everything was going wrong. She was horribly embarrassed, she felt like a butterfly and Alastor was the terror who had opened her chrysalis too soon. He wasn't supposed to see her like this, he wasn't supposed to see her now. He was only supposed to get the after. It was all for him, after all, wasn't it?

Except, Y/n knew the truth of the matter. Alastor had been the trigger but, these behaviors were too well engrained. She might not have known it then, but she'd been looking for an excuse all along. It was all for her, every inch of agony.

His heart dropped at her words. Was that what Y/n truly thought of him? It would make sense, it was the face he presented to the world after all. He had just thought... he had hoped... Rosie had said....

Rosie. That was the answer. She had told him to be honest, to be vulnerable no matter how terrifying such a prospect could be. She had said it was the only way they ever had the slightest chance.

Alastor reached a hand out gently, turning Y/n to look at him. Her skin was soft to the touch, the beating of her blood thrumming against his fingertips. With the utmost care he could muster in his clawed and rotten hands, Alastor wiped her tears away. He couldn't meet Y/n's eyes but heard her sniffle, watched as the flow of sorrow slowed.

"Not your downfall." he said, his words like quiet feathers falling through the air, "Never your downfall."

At last he met her trembling gaze, fear coursing hotly through him, mingling with his blood. She took a few short, stuttering breaths before bursting into tears once again. Alastor flinched slightly as her head fell forward onto his shoulder.

"But I'm not that woman!"

"Woman... what woman?"

"The one you were with at the cafe!"

"The one... Rosie?"

Y/n nodded, sniffiling slightly as she tried to calm herself down.

"You saw me with Rosie? How?"

"I went... I'd been working up all this courage and... I just wanted to talk to you and Charlie and Pen said you'd be there and... and... and I'm not Rosie!"

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. He had been right all along, Rosie was the answer. With the air of someone who hadn't had much physical affection given to them in their life, or received any for that matter, Alastor slowly wrapped his hands around Y/n's shaking back.

"Good."

"What do you mean 'good'? She's so beautiful and she made you laugh and she's just... she's so beautiful and thin!"

"She is beautiful, and a lovely woman but, I don't want Rosie. Or anyone else for that matter."

Y/n's sobs redoubled, she began to struggle against his grip.

"Let me go! Stop lying, Alastor."

Alastor released Y/n from his grasp and she pushed herself back against the wall, utterly mortified and unable to stop. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking away.

"Stop joking, it's... it's not funny."

"Who is joking? I..." Alastor took a deep breath.

Rosie had been right, it was terrifying. He hope she was right on the second part too, that it would be worth it.

"Y/n, have you seen yourself?"

"Yes! Why the fuck do you think I want to be anything else?!"

Alastor got to his feet, holding a hand out to Y/n.

"Come with me."

"No." she mumbled, scooting further away from him if it was possible.

Under another circumstance, he would have chuckled lightly, he would have found her reaction adorable. This was neither the time nor the place and so, summoning his shadows, he transported them both into the darkness of his room.

Y/n looked around, pulling herself to her feet.

"Where... where are we?"

"My room." Alastor sat down on the edge of his bed, "Come here."

Hesitantly, Y/n took a few steps forwards. Once she was in reach, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his lap. The feeling sent sparks through his body, Alastor tried his best to ignore it. There were more important things than the pleasure of the moment. Y/n struggled against his grasp, the tips of her ears dragging slightly across his arms.

"Alastor! Let me go! I'm too heavy!"

"No, you're quite perfect actually."

"I don't want to be touched! I don't want you to... you're making me want to tear my skin off, please."

"No." his voice was firm.

"Please, just please let go of my waist at least."

To this, he relented, one of his arms falling loosely onto her lap as he held the other up, snapping his fingers. Shadow's flooded into the room, bringing with them a full length mirror. He felt Y/n tense in his grasp.

They came to a stop, setting the mirror on the ground before them. Y/n turned her head away, her eyes shut tight.

"Please stop, Alastor. This really isn't funny."

"Y/n."

"No."

"Y/n."

"No!"

Y/n, please."

She had never heard him say the word before. Slowly, she opened her eyes, craning her neck to look up at Alastor.

"I want you to see what I see when I look at you."

"You promise you wont be mean?" Y/n asked suspiciously after a moment.

"I pinky promise."

He had seen her do this before, with other residents of the hotel. A simple locking of pinky's was all it ever took to make a promise, to assuage her doubts, to show she cared. Y/n's eyes widened slightly. Slowly, she reached her hand out, locking her pinky with his. They shook their hands once, the way Alastor had seen her do it a thousand times before.

"Wait." Y/n said as he made to move his hand away, looking away bashfully, her cheeks a bright pink and her voice quiet, "Don't let go."

"Okay."

Taking a deep breath, she turned to the mirror. It was terrible, she felt bile rise in her throat.

"Y/n, you are so... every inch of you is perfect." Alastor took a deep breath, the way his voice trembled not escaping Y/n's notice, "You have... amazing legs. I know everyone's all obsessed with Angel's but, he has nothing on you walking around on those sticks. You're... you're all soft curves and lace. If you were made of anything, you would be satin. You are a nymph rising from the lakes, a wild maenad in the woods. Your eyes shine like true stars, not what we have here. Did you know rabbits were always my favorite animal?"

Y/n giggled slightly, her tearstained cheeks flushed pink.

"Well they were. They still are. Your ears are just to die for, dearest."

He felt her ears twitch slightly against his back at the comment and Y/n watched through the mirror as his smile softened at it's harsh edges.

"Your grace is what the Greeks wrote about. You... Y/n, the first time I set eyes on you, I felt like I was drowning." Alastor looked away, unable to meet her eyes even through the glass, "Like you were a siren and I was nothing more than a hapless sailor at your mercy."

"But you never talk to me."

"You never talk to me!"

Y/n laughed again, smiling a gummy smile.

"I don't have to talk to you to see who you are, Y/n." Alastor continued, his hand that was in her lap turning so his palm rested gently on her thigh, "You light up any room you're in. You are charming and clever and constantly on the look out for places you can instill your special breed of controlled chaos."

Trembling, he shifted his hand in Y/n's so he held hers, raising it to his mouth. The heat of his breath on her skin drove Y/n wild, her breath hitched.

"I am glad you're not Rosie, I don't want Rosie. I don't want anyone else except for you."

Alastor planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand and Y/n's smile only grew, her tears long forgotten now as she watched Alastor's reflection.

"You are perfect. Please, don't change yourself, don't hurt yourself, trying to be something else. I'd miss you."

Slowly, he let their still clasped hands fall into Y/n's lap.

"Do you see now?"

Y/n turned back to the mirror, her head tilted slightly to one side as she hummed in consideration.

"No." she admitted, "But I think I might be able to start."

"One step at a time." Alastor rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand in comforting circles, "I'll be with you the whole way, if you'll have me."

He held his breath, waiting for her reply. Y/n met his eyes through the mirror, her brow furrowed.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Who is Rosie?"

Alastor could have laughed, he nearly did.

"She is a very old and dear friend. I was going to her for advice, that day."

"You? Needing advice?" Y/n paused before shaking her head, "Nah, I don't see it."

She laughed lightly at her own joke and Alastor smiled softly back at her.

"It was advice about you, actually."

Y/n turned herself in his lap, looking up at him with her legs on either side of his own.

"About me?"

"Y-yes."

He cursed himself internally. Alastor hadn't meant to stutter, she just looked too lovely sitting there and looking up at him with her pretty pink lips slightly parted, her cheeks flushed.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

"I..." Alastor felt the heat rising in his own cheeks and looked away, "well, I didn't know how to approach you."

"Wait, you were avoiding me this whole time?" Y/n laughed and Alastor nodded, "I thought I was avoiding you!"

"Wait, you were avoiding me?"

His gaze snapped back to hers and she laughed again.

"Yes! I was terrified to speak to you! You're so cool and hot and just... I'm not good at things like this!"

"You think I'm hot?"

"Is that all you got out of what I said?"

"Maybe."

They both laughed this time. Alastor's chest felt lighter than it hand in years.

"So," he began once they had both calmed down, "is that a yes?"

"To what?"

"To letting me... be... with you."

Y/n smiled, reaching a hand up to his cheek.

"That's a 'will you be with me?' I think actually."

----

Tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170

A/N Y'all, there were one or two times I almost wrote my name while doing this one. I've been writing x reader fics for eight years, this never happens to me anymore. I think I related a little too hard. I am x reader fic writing too close to the sun.

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panic-in-the-multiverse · 1 year

Text

Everybody Dies

Pairings: Rick Grimes x teen!reader, Daryl Dixon x teen!reader, Carl Grimes x teen!reader, Michonne Hawthorne x teen!reader, Aaron x teen!reader, Negan x teen!reader, Rosita Espinosa x teen!reader, Eugene Porter x teen!reader, Sasha Williams x teen!reader (all of them are platonic)

Requested by: @leahsbasement may i request a teen or child g/n reader that’s really close to the twd group and during the lineup they’re one of the people chosen by negan to yknow- receive the glenn and abraham treatment💀 and like we get some reactions from the group from it🧎 i apologize if this sounds really morbid but i am dire need of some good angst and i love your writing sm it’s amazing <3

Warnings: reader death, angst, a tad bit of fluff (definitely not much), mention of character death, description of Negan doing what he did to Glenn and Abraham, blood, mention of a brutal way to die, idk what more I guess you have all seen twd so you know what might be in this. Not proofread

A/N as usual the gif is not mine, found it somewhere on the internet. This is not proofread, well half of it is.

Now I tried to do a reaction with all of the people at the line up so sorry with Sasha I guess bc I don’t like her so found it a bit hard to write her as a character that’s close to the reader, and once more thank you for the request, it gave me an excuse to write this

Anyway idk what I think of this, wrote it in the middle of the night because I couldn’t sleep, so anyway hope you like it.

Everybody dies a little when the brightest soul disappears.

A sea of red water mixed with the gravel and mud on the ground. The trail of blood — that had gone its own path from the puddle it was previously in, could be followed towards two bodies. One of a hunched man, who racked with sobs through his entire body. His hands grasped towards the body before him. Blood still oozed from the head. Or what someone would once have called a head, as it was now just remains of smashed bones and brain goo. The once familiar face was unrecognizable to anyone. No one would ever be able to pinpoint who the body belonged to, because the head atop of it was gone. It had been smashed into a puddle of goo. No one would ever be able to see your smiling face, or the mischievous smirk that pulled at your lips whenever you wanted to rebel a bit. Nor would they ever see the sparkles in your eyes whenever you talked about the things you liked.

No one of the group surrounding the three bodies wanted to acknowledge what had happened. How could they. They’d all just seen three of their family members die, because of their actions. Because of them. The teenager in which the hunched man had taken a tight grip of their hands had warned them about the attack. That nothing good would come out of it, that it wasn’t who they were. Rick had been wrong like everyone else to ignore the teenager’s warnings. In the end it was what cost them your life. Their choice of actions had been the beginning of your end.

Rick couldn’t let the image out of his head, he couldn’t even look at your body as he held you tightly. His eyes stared into the distance at nothing in particular as his mind tried to register what had happened just a few hours ago. His cries had stopped only for his eyes to glaze over once more with tears. He couldn’t help but to think that it was all his fault. He had the final vote on what to do, and his vote caused your death. It caused Negan to seek them out. To line them up. To smash your head with his goddamn wired baseball bat. His goddamn Lucille. He swore to kill Negan if it was the last thing he did, whether you would want him to or not, he needed to. Rick wanted nothing more than revenge. Nothing more than justice and revenge brought to you, Glenn and Abraham.

Not soon after Rick had stopped crying his son had walked over to you and him. His eye was bloodshot by the tears that rolled down his red cheek. And his hand went up to rub his eye off the tears as he tried to control himself, as he sat beside his father. Same as everyone else at the brutal scene he couldn’t let go of the events. How everyone got a look of dread and fear on their face as Negan announced that he’d had to kill two more because of Daryl’s little outburst. Carl had glanced at his father to see that for once under this meeting he held actual fear in his eyes when Negan’s bat had landed in front of you. It was deadly quiet as all of the group watched you stare dead into the eyes of Negan who looked at you with a scary face, gleaming with excitement as he noticed everyone’s reaction.

Negan had watched with glee as everyone went into submission after Lucille had stopped in front of you. He’d felt kinda sorry for you. He didn’t usually kill teenagers but something about you annoyed him so greatly. Maybe it was the way you didn’t look with fear into his eyes, how you held your own, even with the knowledge that you would soon be dead. He didn’t know what it was but he had decided to kill you, well he decided in a way.

Maggie who had lost her husband and father to her child, stared with emptiness at you. She didn’t know if she’d be able to take it if you died as well. She had tried to fight the man holding her down, but to no vain. Her already bloodshot eyes had filled with tears and sobbed had shook through her body as soon as she saw Negan start to swing his bat. She didn’t want to lose you, she couldn’t. But her silent prayer came to no good end.

Rosita was no better than Maggie. Since the first time you met when you and Glenn together with Tara searched for Maggie the two of you had gotten close and she as everyone else got flashes of your lives together. Of all your good and bad memories of everything you had survived. How you’d found an apple tree that hadn’t been destroyed at a random location in the forest and thrown apples at your companions heads as they hadn’t stopped when you told them to. Or how you’d draw drawings with the kids in Alexandria or help hunting and scavenging for food. Getting stuck in a building while a herd of walkers walked past. The blood and the gore of every kill. All of them comforting you while you cried yourself to sleep, all the cuddles you forced them into, especially Rick and Daryl. How you forced them to take a break so that they wouldn’t overwork themselves while doing the exact same thing. Needing help from others to make sure you actually took care of yourself and not just everyone else. It just made them all get to the brink of breaking even quicker as they thought of all your moments together. Not only did memories flash inside your head, nor only Rosita’s they flashed through everyone. You had always looked out for them and what had they given you in return, nothing but death.

Sasha wasn’t especially close to you but the previous death of Abraham and Glenn and now you had her at her breaking point. She might not have known you well but you were a good kid, you helped and knew how to survive. You didn’t take unnecessary risks and you’d helped her through her losses. So she tried nothing more than to break herself away from reality as she heard the bat make contact with your head. It reminded her too much of the other two kills and she couldn’t look through another one, not again.

Eugene only stared at the distance as sobs racked through his body not being able to watch you die. He couldn’t even bring his eyes to look at you afterwards, he’d never be able to erase the short scream of pain that had left your lips. He was at a loss of words and he wouldn’t be able to really function in a few days, much like everyone else. He was scared shitless and he didn’t know for anything in the world what to do or say in the hours that came after.

Negan had looked at everyone, gauging even the slightest reaction out of them. Michonne had watched helplessly at you, she’d tried not to flinch everytime the bat hit you among a sound she’d never wished she ever heard ever in her life. The only thing on her mind was how she taught you how to sword fight or when you hunted a deer together and accidentally fell into a puddle of mudd getting every inch of you covered in it.

Arron, who had been right beside you, wanted to crawl away as your blood splashed onto the right side of him. He remembered all the times you’d gone over to him and Eric to eat pasta not wanting to socialize with the rest of Alexandria. You’d always go to him or Daryl.

Arron felt sick as he felt your warm blood on his cold cheek, and he felt even more sick as he made a glance at Daryl who didn’t do anything else but staring with regret and anger at your body who now laid lifeless on the ground. When Aaron dared a glance at you his throat became thick and a sob threatened to come out but he didn’t make a sound instead he stared at you before he looked with fear, numbness, anger and defeat at Negan.

But it wasn’t until Negan had looked at Rick Carl and Daryl did he notice that he sure as hell picked the wrong one to kill, deep inside, he knew that he’d just started a war. A war that wouldn’t take too long to brew over to the real fight. However he was filled with glee over getting a few peaceful weeks at reveling in his power and control over Alexandria. Maybe that would make the war something never to come, how wrong he had been on that thought.

Daryl felt nothing but guilt as he looked at you and it was all he thought of when he got loaded into the car and the Saviours drove away with him. He regretted having lashed out. Regretted ever getting angry. Daryl knew more than anyone that he’d miss you when you were gone. Like Beth, he’d miss you, even more so than Beth.

Carl had held a strong front, but on the inside he was breaking he lost his best friend and the only kid that had been with him since the beginning of the disaster they now lived in.

Now in the present Carl placed his hand on Rick’s shoulder as everyone surrounded your body (except for Maggie, Sasha, Rosita and Eugene). The two Grimes hugged each other as Carl dug his head into Rick’s chest. The older Grimes, having stopped his crying once more, tried his best to comfort his son while he himself was still breaking.

Rick, like Carl and Daryl, had held a shield with spikes as defense against Negan, as they had all starred with the same thought of killing Negan running through their heads. They had let a numb shield cover them while their enemies still surrounded them. They hadn’t let go of the shield until their enemies were gone. (Or in Daryl’s case until he was alone in the cell he was placed in at the sanctuary).

That day, the day you died, was the day everyone in Alexandria died a little with you. You were the brightest soul in most of their lives and to lose you was one of the worst things to ever happen to any of them.

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hey-kae · 1 year

Note

In love with all you fics! Ugh I’ve read them multiple times bcs I can’t get enough of them. I was wondering if you could do one where Max is with Kelly (or just a random OC with a kid) but has a baby girl with the reader. The readers daughter is doubting Max’s love for her since she sees how much time he spends with his girlfriend child. And the reader and Max don’t exactly have the best relationship since it was only supposed to be a one night stand but they are now bonded for life. Can the reader be very shy, understanding of Max’s situation and caring but when it comes to her baby she takes out her claws. Idk I just love me some f1!Dad lol The reader can either end up with Max or another driver I just want some good angst with a fluff ending 🥲

Seamless Transition

Pairing: dad!max verstappen x female reader

Warnings: Language, mentions and implication of sex, mention of pregnancy.

a/n: in a hypothetical, unrealistic world where i have a child with Max, my only request would be for jos to stay tf away from my kid💀 i switched kelly with an oc cause i don’t feel comfortable writing about irl partners in situations like these. anyway, i hope you enjoy this! Feedback is appreciated… (i’m happy u enjoy my writing, anon!!💕)

“Pa” is dutch for “dad” apparently…

All throughout your life, there's always been one sentence that felt provocative and almost stupid, one that was widely known, widely repeated and reused, ringing in your ear as it rolled off different tongues, with different tones and accents but the same challenging certainty crippling behind its words.

"Your whole life can change in a day." People would insist and you would absolutely refuse to believe in such saying, until you found yourself staring at a positive pregnancy test that was definitely supposed to come out negative; at least you were hoping and praying that it would.

Instead, the plus sign felt like a mocking nemesis, pointing a ridiculing finger at you and laughing its heart out as the memories from over a week ago played, replayed, and rewinded in your mind like a broken record you couldn't stop the spin of. The only thing left for you to see was the hazy, blurry image of Max on top of you as the two of you engaged in a drunken mistake that left its permanent mark on your lives in the form of a child.

Was it exactly the right time for a baby to show up in your life? No, far from it, but that mistake ended up giving you the most precious gift of your lifetime, a baby girl that quickly became the one person in this wicked world that you'd be more than ready to defend with your blood and life.

Fast forward four years, it was safe to say that little Lilly Verstappen was the center of your world and the most important person in your life by a long shot. She was a ball of sunshine that lit up your days with the smallest of smiles and a tiny glimpse of her sparkling blue eyes.

Her features were a mix of you and Max. It was like she chose the best out of each of her parents and adopted it as her own.

At the time, telling Max that you were pregnant was the most nerve wracking thing you'd ever done, rightfully so since the two of you were merely friends that hooked up, acquaintances that didn't exactly get along smoothly but shared a night together as more of an accurate description. There is no denying that the both of you freaked out about the outcome but Max was supportive nonetheless. Sure, everything between you and him was tense but he was still just as understanding as you were. Eventually, you had come to the conclusion that parenting a child together wouldn't be the worst thing. You'd be able to manage it.

He gets to see her on his free days where he's home and you get to keep her when he's away, bar a few weekends where he invited you to watch the grand prix so his daughter could watch him race, as per her own request a few months after after she started talking.

However, it should've been obvious that things were too smooth sailing for the peace to last. You, Max and Lilly often dined together from time to time to give her the best out of a not so ideal situation, a taste of having both her parents by her side at the same time. Many afternoons were spent with you over at Max's apartment or his at yours with toys spread out on the floor and the three of you entertaining Lilly as best as you could, sometimes even putting her to sleep together only to fall into a tense and awkward silence that threatened to explode within seconds when her eyes would fall shut. Despite everything, things had went as far as taking road-trips together and enjoying your daughter's sweet moments and giggles on the way to whatever destination Max planned to surprise her with.

To put it briefly, besides the bond Max shared with his daughter, you were now somewhat used to his presence. To a certain degree, the lines of just co-parenting that you agreed on had blurred.

All was perfectly well until Max sat you down and told you he was dating someone and that she had a kid as well, both of you questioning how his time with Lilly would be affected by the presence of another woman, Valerie and another child around. He told you that maybe they can be friends, the other kid also being a girl, Ella and just a few months older than Lilly.

That conversation happened around a year ago and while there never was any bad blood between you and Max's girlfriend, it seemed like things weren't as smooth sailing on Lilly's side.

One day, as Max dropped off Lilly at your place, you noticed a frown on your daughter's face, her hand up to her mouth as she bit her nails with her head slightly bowed. It was an unmistakable expression.

"Is everything okay?" You asked Max as you picked Lilly up, her arms wrapping around your neck immediately.

"She seems a little upset but she wouldn't tell me why." He explained, reaching over and fluffing Lilly's hair.

"You don't wanna say goodbye to pa, angel?" He asked her softly.

She twisted in your arms and wrapped him in a hug, giving him a kiss on the cheek while he smiled and rubbed her back.

"Bye-bye, pa." Her small voice spoke.

"I will see you in a week, princess. Okay?"

With that and a small nod from Lilly, Max left, closing the door behind him as you carried your daughter inside, into the living room where she got preoccupied with a coloring book and some pencils while you eyed her attentively as she began scribbling onto the already messy pages.

"Hey, Lilly." You called to catch her attention, "How was your time with pa, sweetie?"

Moving to sit by her side, you pulled her onto your lap, brushing her soft blonde hair behind her ears. She carried the coloring book over and kept coloring as you kissed her head.

"It was okay." She replied with a small shrug.

"What did you do? Did you have fun with him?"

She smiled and nodded, "He got us ice-cream and i helped him to train then we we played with Poot and small cars." She gushed, tossing one coloring pencil on the floor and hopping off to grab her purple teddy bear at the mention of his name.

"That's good, princess." You watched her dig through her bag for the bear, in your mind a million different thoughts because she still wasn't acting normally.

Usually, she'd be gushing about her time with Max when he dropped her off, talking, telling and retelling you every detail until she fell asleep but it seemed like you had to pull the information out of her this time, and coupled with the upset face she had on earlier, it left you suspicious.

Figuring you'd have to find out about what went wrong in a different way, you decided to change the subject.

"What do you want for dinner?"

Following that and her answer to the question, the two of you headed for the kitchen where she sat by the table in the corner, drawing on loose papers while you cooked for the two of you, then you told Lilly to put away her pens and papers in her room and you set the table to eat when she came back.

The night went smoothly after dinner. You got Lilly to shower then dried her hair before putting her to bed early for school tomorrow then left her room to retrieve the laundry from the dryer, folding each item neatly and separating the clothes into two stacks, yours and Lilly's.

On your way to your room, you stopped by your daughter's room to drop off her clothes.

Not wanting to disturb her slumber, you placed the stack on her desk and figured you'd just put them away tomorrow morning. However, as you picked the laundry basket back up, you noticed some interesting drawings on some of the papers on the desk.

With a deep set frown twisting your expression, you picked up the papers, tossed them in the basket and rushed to your room.

Laundry was long forgotten as you launched yourself onto your bed with Lilly's drawings in your hand.

Paper after paper, you scanned her various drawings of stick figures. Each one was drawn in a different color and you knew your daughter enough to know who each color symbolized.

A purple stick figure with blonde, or rather yellow hair was always drawn at a distance from everyone else, often times at the bottom corner of the page, with a sad expression drawn onto its face.

Your heart shattered because purple was her favorite color. Purple was her.

The other people portrayed were often holding hands, two tall figures on the sides with a smaller one in the middle.

The only other time someone was drawn alongside the purple stick figure on the bottom was in one drawing and the person symbolized was taller than the one in purple and was scribbled in dark green, a color you often chose to buy your things in.

You were bewildered as you stared at the papers, dropped them on the mattress then picking them up again to stare some more.

Was Lilly feeling neglected when she spent time with Max?

Every additional detail you noticed in the drawings angered you more, especially her attempt the draw a tongue poking out of the smaller stick figure between the two tall ones, Ella presumably.

While the little girl always seemed polite and harmless, it wasn't a secret how mean children could be.

You'd have to talk to Max about this.

Within seconds, your phone was in your clutch, ready to call Lilly's father but something stopped you. You needed to ask Lilly about her drawings first, about how things were between her and Max and how things were between her and Ella.

The plush mattress welcomed you with open arms as you fell back onto it, sighing heavily as the thought of your daughter feeling left out. Needless to say, it was a sleepless night for you. You sat in bed, pondering the possible situations and conversations you'd have to have in the morning.

You just hoped it would all work out at the end, that everything you were assuming would be just that, assumptions, because you might be completely understanding of Max's relationship and job, but nothing would be stopping you from defending your daughter and making sure she's getting the treatment and care she deserves.

Max was so insistent that he wanted to be in her life, wanted to be her dad, so he better be acting like it.

—

At sunrise, you were up and so was Lilly, tired eyes watching you as she ate her breakfast at the kitchen table and you prepared her school lunchbox. Despite complaints and grumblings, she had gotten dressed and sat in front of you for you to do her hair.

However, as you rushed through the different morning chores and rituals, only one thing was on your mind. How the hell we you supposed to bring up last night's subject to Lilly in a way that wouldn't cause her to repress whatever was happening?

Max usually called before school to chat with her a bit and say good morning. After the phone call would be a perfect opportunity.

A few minutes later, you grabbed your car keys and your daughter bag and just like always, as you headed for the front door, your phone rang and Max's name flashed on the screen.

You handed Lilly the phone and she immediately answered, pressing the device to her ear while the two of you walked to the car, your hand holding onto her free one.

In the silence of the vehicle, you listened in on the conversationsr as you started driving.

"Choco corn flakes and milk." Lilly's small voice replied to Max who was probably asking her about her breakfast.

"No, pa. I didn't have homework. I was with you yesterday, silly." A small giggle echoed in the car.

...

The conversation went on for a few minutes, leaving you about 10 other to interrogate Lilly.

"Daddy says hi to you." She smiled at you and handed you the phone when she hung up.

"Oh. Daddy is the best, isn't he?" You tested with a false grin.

"Yeah." Lilly hummed half heartedly and you gripped onto that loose thread as you took a left turn.

"You have fun with him and Ella when you're at his place?"

"Yes, mommy. But pa and Ella have more fun together." She shrugged her shoulders, "They laugh so much, sometimes i don't know why. Maybe he loves her more, because he wants to marry her mommy."

Your heart broke at the way her voice shifted from cheery to dull and tinged with disappointment. From what you saw, Max was a good father, but obviously you couldn't be there for all the time he spends with Lilly so you clearly can't be sure of how well he's fulfilling the role of a dad.

You slowed the car down a little. Some delay from school wouldn't be much of a deal, especially in this case.

"You don't like being at pa's place? Does he not play with you?" You asked cautiously, not wanting to feed into the idea that Max doesn't love her as much as he loves Ella, because despite that statement being the main thought claiming your mind, you wouldn't want to lead Lilly to believe in that further.

"I just get bored sometimes, when pa is with Ella or Valerie. But it's okay. I'm a big girl and big girls sit alone like grown ups sometimes."

You hummed to show her you were listening and miraculously, she carried on talking, "I know pa loves Valerie but she's a meanie. She shouts all the time."

Your heart was beating increasingly fast, "She does, baby? Has she ever shouted at you?"

"No." She replied too fast.

"Lilly, don't lie to mommy. No one is allowed to scream at you, princess so if anyone does, you need to tell me." You said with a gentle voice.

"Sometimes she shouts at me... but it's okay, because she shouts at Ella too."

Just as she spit that out, you pulled up in front of her school, your heart heavy with Lilly's thoughts now and your mind turbulent with worry over your daughter's feelings. You were already planning Max's murder... and maybe Valerie's.

You dropped her off and drove back home like a mad woman. Before even making your way up to your apartment, your phone was against your ear, ringing as you waited for Max to pick up.

"What's up?" His chill voice asked.

"We need to talk. Come over." You hung up and stormed upstairs.

The half hour it took Max to arrive and knock at you door seemed to last forever and ever but when the doorbell finally rang and echoed through the apartment, you swung it open harshly and was met with confused blue eyes and furrowed brows.

"What's happening? Is Lilly okay?"

"Get in, Max." You gestured inside and moved out of the way.

Max was clueless and confused as he walked inside the familiar, calm apartment and sat down on the couch centering the living room, looking behind him to watch as you walked over and sat in a loveseat on his side, a troubled, unsettling look on your face.

"Look, i don't wanna come off as rude but you out of all people know that i will always go out of my way and try my hardest to protect Lilly and make sure she's happy." You started lightly, making Max slightly nervous. He leaned forward so his arms were resting on his knees, his expression showing hints of worry now as he gaped at you.

"What? Protect her from what exactly? I don't understand." He asked.

"Are Lilly and Ella on good terms?" A blunt question left your mouth.

Max's eyes widened for a mere second as he absorbed the shock of such interrogation. In his head, he searched through all the memories he had of the two young girls together, no red flags making themselves known. He was wondering where all of this was coming from too.

"I don't think i've seen them disagree or fight. Why?" He answered but you didn't acknowledge his question.

"What exactly do you guys do when Lilly's staying at your place? How do you pass time?" You felt like a detective and you hated it but you needed to know everything, needed Max to know how his daughter felt and see his reaction to it, see if he was taking his role as her dad seriously.

"Like normally, really. Breakfast, playing, training, lunch, a drive around or a walk, maybe going to a park, then dinner and just some sitting around before going to bed. You need to tell me if something is wrong." He explained then returned back to wondering why did it seem so urgent that he comes over if this is what you wanted to talk about.

"Max, do you pay attention to Lilly's mood when she's with you?" Desperation and frustration were starting to lace your voice and slip out between words as you watched Max frown.

"Why do i feel like you're hiding something and throwing accusations? I'm Lilly's dad. I need to know if something is going on." He started getting angry.

"Are you acting like it? You practically begged to be in her life. You repeated it a thousand fucking times that you can be the dad she deserves. Are you actually doing that?" You got up and found yourself pacing behind the couch where Max was sat.

"What the hell? What the fuck makes you think i'm not properly taking care of her? Fucking tell me." He turned in his seat to look at your constantly moving figure, his eyebrows raised and his mouth agape in a mix of anger and confusion.

"She did, Max! She made me think that." You shouted, "She was saying things like how it's okay that she sits alone and gets bored and, fuck- just feeling left out."

"What?" He was shocked, the words you said making him stand to his feet, properly turning around to look at you.

"Look, i've always been understanding of your job, of your relationship, of the presence of another child in your life but never, never will i ever tolerate knowing my daughter is feeling left out and alone when she's with you. I grew up feeling that way, lonely and i sure as fuck won't allow that to happen to Lilly." You were furious with how calm he was about this while your blood was a mere celsius away from boiling. Not once in your life were you ever this angry but when Lilly was on the line, you were a different person.

"I promise you, i never leave her alone." He defended.

"Then why did she say you love Ella more than her? Tell me why?" You shouted, "You want to be her dad, act like it!" You were teetering close on the edge of loosing all composure and control.

"I'm trying!" He shouted back, "You gotta keep it in mind that this is new to me. This is my first time having a kid of my own! Just because you so naturally adjusted to it, it doesn't mean that it's gonna come so effortlessly for me too. I'm trying to make the best out an unconventional and weird situation, I'm really trying to be a good dad for Lilly."

You fell silent and leaned against the back of the couch, rubbing at your forehead out of stress, the wrinkles of a frown creasing your skin as your thoughts raced.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a fidgety Max.

He cared. You didn't know him that much but you definitely knew him enough to realize and see that. He was clearly trying but was also failing at some part of the whole parenting role without even realizing.

Like he said, having a child was something that both of you were continuously getting used to so, to some degree, you couldn't blame him.

"We should stop screaming at each other. It wouldn't be good to go back to fighting." He referred to the earlier days before the hookup and the pregnancy, where you and Max in the same room inevitably meant an incoming explosion.

"Yeah." You muttered, "Yeah, you're right."

You eyed him cautiously, not knowing where to go from here.

Luckily, he gave you a small smile and patted the space beside him on the couch, "Come here. We need to figure out a solution. I really want the best for Lilly."

You sighed and allowed your shoulders to drop, ignoring the little tingling in your heart at the way Max was smiling at you. You just took a seat at a comfortable distance from him, slacking against the back cushions of the sofa and pulling a pillow into your lap for comfort, all while Max watched your moves attentively.

"Tell me what she said first. We need to figure out where things went to shit first, right?"

"Yeah, that's a good call." You confirmed as you picked at the skin by your nails, "She said that you and Ella have more fun together, that you laugh more and she doesn't know why..."

"Okay..."

"That you love Ella more because you're in love with her mother. I think that's the thing that i hated hearing, because i understand not being able to give her your undivided attention all the time but i just don't want her to feel like her dad is favoring someone else over her, you know?" You teared up at the thought of Lilly not having the assurance that both her parents love her.

Taking notice of your glistening eyes, Max patted your shoulder, taking you by surprise. It had you thinking how weird it, two people who have literally seen and touched almost all of each other's bodies at some point, being so awkward about a touch to the shoulder that lasted maybe a total of 3 seconds.

"We'll figure it out. Lilly will always be my priority. I will make up for everything, i promise." He reassured, breaking you out of your thoughts, "One more question, because i need to know this to figure out a plan."

You sighed, "Okay... Shoot."

"Is she fighting with Ella? Like... Do they get along okay? Did she mention anything about their relationship?"

You cringed at that. You were gonna have to tell him about the way Valerie plays into this.

"What?" He questioned once he noticed your expression, "What is it? They don't get along, do they?" He asked and watched you struggle to put words together.

"She didn't mention Ella much." You started.

"Okay..." He frowned, "I've never heard or seen them fight so i kind of knew that."

"Yeah..." You hesitated, "Max, do you remember how we agreed to never shout at Lilly? And to never let anyone shout at her either?"

He nodded.

"Valerie kinda... screamed at her, but she thinks it's okay because Ella gets screamed at too." You said with a low voice.

"What?" Max was surprised, "I talked to her many times about our rules that we follow with Lilly and she told me she respects that."

You sat in silence for a while, not knowing what to say while Max's head raced with how much he hadn't been noticing about the time his daughter spent at his place.

He wanted his house to feel comfortable for Lilly, for her to feel just as at home as she did in your apartment, so he couldn't really help thinking that he failed at that, failed at reserving enough attention to his daughter.

"Do you think i'm a bad father?" He asked.

"I never said that, Max." You felt a hint of guilt at the thought of making him feel that way.

"No, be honest, because i feel like i shouldn't take care of Lilly alone anymore if i don't notice all this shit." He blurted with his eyebrows raised then he pursed him lips.

"Please, don't say that. It's not what i meant. I don't expect you to be perfect." You sighed, "I'm not a perfect mother either but that's because we're humans, because we're still figuring out this whole parenting thing, and honestly, i feel like figuring it out isn't something that ever ends."

Subconsciously, your hand landed comfortingly on his shoulder, "You try your hardest to be a good presence in your daughter's life, i can see that, it's just that she's growing up. She can understand and speculate about everything around her now, so we just need to be better at regarding her feelings and making sure not to give her wrong impressions."

He rubbed at his eyes with frustration seizing his muscles and finally allowed his back to meet the cushions behind him as he nodded.

"I'm gonna need your help for a while, though. Just to understand what to change." Max mumbled.

You smiled, "Don't worry, I'm always happy to help."

"Thank you."

A quiet few minutes of silence followed then Max got up to leave.

"I need to talk to Val." He groaned as he grabbed his phone and keys.

"I hope everything goes well." You wished.

"Yeah." He replied nonchalantly, "How about i pick you up later and we go get her from school together? We can go eat somewhere, just the three of us."

Smiling, you nodded and walked with him to the door.

"See you later, then." He said just as he starting walking down the stairs.

You shut the door while trying to figure out the feeling in you chest and why something was telling you today would be the start of major changes in your life and Lilly's.

—

Following that day, everything seemed to work itself out.

Max picked you up as planned and everything went really well. On the way to get Lilly from school, he told you he talked extensively with Valerie and that lead to a fight, and a breakup.

Worried that he would be thinking that was what you wanted, you were quick to show support.

"Is everything okay?" You asked and he quickly nodded, giving you a quick glance and smile as he drove.

"I really didn't mean for the two of you to break up. I know you love her and Ella and want-" You couldn't help rushing.

"Hey, hey," he interrupted, "i told you. Everything's okay. It was a long time coming kinda thing. Don't blame yourself, please."

As days went on, Max made it a point to come up with plans for the three of you and the first time he had Lilly staying with him afterwards, he got her to invite you for dinner, something that became a repeated pattern and for some reason, your heart was starting to beat faster at every invite and every smile Max would give you.

It wasn't much later when you realized you were catching feelings for the father of your child and you weren't quite sure what to do about that.

A month later, on an afternoon when you were meant to pick up Lilly from Max's place, he opened the door for you and instead of letting you in, he stepped out and closed the front door behind him.

"Can we talk?" He asked with his hands stuffed in his jeans' pockets.

"But... Lilly..." you pointed to the door.

"Mom is there with her." Max reassured that your daughter wasn't on her own and proceeded to guide you away.

With your eyes narrowed in suspicion, you followed him, your nerves getting worse by the second.

"So, car ride or a walk?" He asked once you were out of the building.

Frowning, you tilted your head to the side and responded, "Walking's fine."

Max nodded and so the two of you began taking small steps along the sidewalk.

Silence reigned for a while. You couldn't really figure out anything to say and it was rather obvious that Max was planning the approach to whatever he wanted to talk about in his head.

By the time he spoke up, the two of you were a few buildings away.

"I've been really enjoying our time with Lilly." He awkwardly said and if anything, that confused you more.

"Yeah, it's been good." You agreed with a nod.

"I like it when it's just the three of us." Max continued.

"I like it too. I want Lilly to have as many normal experiences as possible."

For some reason, the silence returned after that. Meanwhile, your heart had begun racing out of control as you laid out the various paths that this conversation would take, the one outcome you wished you'd end up with being repressed and avoided. Instead, you found yourself considering other options.

What is something happened with Lilly?

Are they not getting along?

Does he want to change anything about their relationship? Or about the way the two of you parent her?

...

What if he was dating someone new?

Sure, it has barely been a month since his breakup but according to the pieces of information you'd pick during your time with him, and Lilly of course, you'd concluded that he wasn't actually in love with Valerie.

Interrupting your thoughts, Max sighed heavily by your side.

"You know, I'm trying hard to be smooth with this but-" he chuckled, "I'm clearly shit at that."

"How about you tell me what this is about as a head-start..." you suggested.

Max nodded and seemed to calculate his words for a mere second, "The nature of our... relationship?" He hesitated.

"Oh..." You let your confusion show, "What about it?"

He fiddled with his hands for a while before finally speaking, "I wanna try- No. I wanna ask you if you would agree to trying something new."

The determination in his voice confused you even further.

"New... Like, how?"

"Would you be open to the idea of a date? No Lilly, just me and you going somewhere nice together."

You stopped dead in your tracks and stared at Max like you were speculating if he was serious, all while your heart was dancing to an unknown tune that had slowly been becoming its favorite.

"I know this can be potentially risky, because what if we actually date and - i don't want it to seem like I'm getting ahead of myself - get in a relationship? It could complicate things with Lilly and shit but we've been co-parenting for four years now even though we hated each other's guts so, really, we're capable of working through anything." He took a breath, "I just want something more with you. I really like you, so much more than as just Lilly's mom. Just consider it 'cause i just think we would have something good, that we'd be worth a shot, you know? I've been thinki-"

"Max!" You interrupted his rant with a chuckle of his name and a wide smile, "Breathe, please."

"So?" He seemed nervous as he asked and you found it adorable.

"I'll go on a date with you." You nodded with a big smile, making Max grin so wide.

—

From that point on, everything is just history.

The first date went so amazingly well that the second followed so soon after it, then a third, and on the fourth, Max asked you to be his girlfriend and you instantly agreed.

The transition was practically seamless.

Lilly was over the moon once she noticed the nature of your interactions with Max shift. The first night she got to spend the night with both her mom and dad under the same roof as her, she was absolutely beaming.

Things between you and Max were going so well, it almost seemed surreal, but both of you, and Lilly of course, couldn't be happier that it was in fact your reality.

A few months into the relationship, you and Lilly fully moved in with him and the first free weekend morning spent there, you woke up to them making breakfast together.

It was a moment you truly cherished, when you walked into the kitchen to find Max holding his daughter on his shoulders so she'd be able to grab plates from the high cupboards, both of them displaying big and genuine smiles.

"I feel left out, I'm not gonna lie." You walked in joking, effectively grabbing both their attentions.

The three of you had a delicious and peaceful breakfast together and when Lilly finished eating and ran off to her room, Max moved you off your chair and onto his lap, his eyes locking with yours. Your legs were dangling off of one side, your arms hooking behind his neck as you kissed his lips lightly.

He smiled at you and pulled you back in, keeping the curve of his lips throughout the short peck.

When he pulled away, his grin grew and he brushed his hand through the front strands of your hair, securing it behind your ear.

"I love you." He spoke softly and, like always, it made your heart pound.

"I love you too, Max."

Just like that, the two people from five years ago who couldn’t be in the same room for over three minutes without fighting were long gone.

And just like that, everything worked out in a way that no one expected it to but in the idealist of ways possible.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen angst #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 oneshots #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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akiira00 · 9 months

Note

Hellooo💚

May I ask request Jinwoo x reader with reverse jealousy. Jinwoo leaves for raid, comeback with news telling that he's get close to female hunter and assume they have a relationship. Reader drink while looking at the news, start with rumble, then when the alcohol hits, it's turn to tear and sob. Lay down to couch and cover their face with pillow. Jinwoo come home, seeing his lover on couch then find their trace of tear on cheeks. When he wake them up, they're still drunk so they pour their feeling in drunk behavior while sobbing and hiccups.

Ah sorry if this is so long, idk how to tell this in a short description😭

Love your writings💚💚

— Assumptions

Pairing: Sung Jin-Woo x g/n! reader

Genre: Angst, comfort, angst to fluff, slow burn

Synopsis: You suddenly hear assumptions of your not publically announced boyfriend dating another girl on the TV, with the remarks of your friends and all, you end up consumed by the worry.

A/n: Sure! I don’t mind long requests, they give me more inspiration to write! You asked for tears, I shall give you some. Hope you like how it turned out, and yeah, I chose Hae-In as the ‘assumed girlfriend’ because I didn’t find any other that could fit the role-

Length: 1.6k words

As you woke up, you realized your boyfriend had yet-again left early to clear raids, which you just shrugged off, going downstairs and grabbing something to eat as you sat down on the couch, noticing a weird piece of paper.

“Sarang, I’ll be home late today, have to go clear some raids. See you.”

You sighed to yourself, folding the paper and leaving it on the table’s top while grabbing the remote to turn on the TV.

“Yet again, the S-Rank hunter Sung Jin-Woo cleared a red raid in less than four hours…! But wait- Hunter Hae-In was there too?! Now that I think so, they look fairly close…”

You heard the news speculating as you froze at the sight. The news and social media were exploding with images of both Jin-Woo and Hae-In together, really, really close.

As you tried to keep yourself calm, you couldn’t get your eyes off your phone, you noticed a faint blush on Hae-In’s cheeks on the image. “What the…”

You turned to text him to seek out an answer, but the news showed both him and Hae-In walking into another raid in a row. There went the chance to talk to him.

Your mind was running like crazy, as you clutched your hand on your thigh. ‘Is he really cheating…?’ ‘Am I just… Not enough?’ You asked yourself messily as you started yet once again overthinking.

“Such a good way to start a day…” You muttered under your breath as you noticed it was 2 p.m. sharp. ‘What are they both doing in since four hours ago…?’

You were just a C-Rank healer, and Jin-Woo made it clear he wanted you to stay at home instead of working, as he could take that part easily.

‘Is it just because Hae-In is actually strong or useful…? Is that what I’m lacking…?’ You thought, standing up with a sigh as you reached out on your cabinet for a rather small bottle of alcohol.

‘It should help me clear my mind at least…’ You opened the bottle and fetched yourself a glass, pouring some of the drink on it.

As you brought the glass to your lips, you let down a few tears at first, letting yourself be consumed by the heat forming on your throat because of the drink.

‘Jin-Woo and Hae-In, huh…? They sound well together…’ You said, feeling the horribly disgusting piece of self-pity, drowning your own mind as you filled another glass up.

“They both make such a good team… They’ve cleared multiple raids without rest! They really seem like a couple… But are they? I really hope so!”

The words spoken on TV broke your heart more than anything. ‘Yeah… I think they do…’ You hummed, as you laid down on the couch, feeling the tears flooding your cheeks, making you lean onto a cushion to cry on, ocassionaly grabbing another drink.

Jin-Woo at the other hand had just left from the last one of the raids he had programmed, he had already left Hae-In at her house and he was tiredly walking down the street.

It was almost 10 p.m., as he slowly opened the door to your shared home. He was taken aback by the dark ambient, excluding the noise from the TV, which was left on.

“Huh…?” He muttered as he went closer, trying to find the remote to turn it off, but he then noticed it in your hands, with you hugging some cushions as you slept on the couch.

“Again..?” He sighed, walking up to switch the lights on, making you hiss a bit, but what he failed to notice until then were the tear streams that were marked on your cheeks. You just dropped the remote on the couch and turned around to hide your vision from the strong lights which made you even more dizzy than you already were.

“Sarang..? What’s up…?” He shook your shoulder trying to wake you up, which ended up happening, but as soon as you opened your eyes and saw him, you just scoffed, looking away.

“Welcome back… *hic*” You muttered annoyed as you turned away from him, leaving him a bit confused. “Tell me what’s going on…” He tried to convice you to talk, which made you sigh, turning to look at him with a pained look on your eyes.

“Don’t you have to be with Hae-In or something…? Just leave me be…” You muttered out annoyed between hics, as he slowly understood what was going on.

“What’s that supposed to mean…? Wait. Do you think that…” He just sat down beside you, lifting you up with his powers as he made you sit on his lap. “Huh- L-let me out… *hic*” You tried to resist, as you were clearly not in the mood to deal with him, and he noticed the red tint on your cheeks and how a bottle was laying down empty on the floor.

“Answer… What were you thinking, sarang…” You knew you didn’t have a way out of it, and just had to suck it up. “It’s nothing… Just tell me this… Am I too useless for you…? She’s clearly better than me so…”

He stared at you in utter shock. “What do you mean…? I swear if you’re thinking what the whole media is…” You had no option than to nod weakly. “For god’s sake… I don’t like Hae-In. And I’m your boyfriend, don’t be stupid…”

He meant everything, but he kind-of made it sound as if he was annoyed, which made you just shut your eyes and lay on his chest, simply bawling your eyes out as you cried, having a gentle and weak grip on his shoulders.

“Wait, wait- Don’t cry… Ugh…” He clearly didn’t know how to handle the situation, as he wasn’t the brightest when it came to comfort. “I love you and only you okay…?”

“But… W-why…? *hic* She’s just perfect… She has everything I don’t and as an extra, she’s actually useful… I’m just a bother to you…” You were consuming yourself with shame and self-pity, as he had no other option than to pat your back gently, letting you spill out your concerns.

“You’re fine… I don’t like her, and what if she’s an S-Rank? I told you not to do raids because I can take care of that… I just went with her because an agreement… I don’t care about power and you know that…” He said, trying to explain it to your now childish and intoxicated self.

“Hmph… I-I don’t believe you…” You muttered out between sobs and hics, turning to hug him as you tried to let youself get convinced by his words slowly.

“I’m telling you the truth… Just rest, okay…? I’ll talk to you in the morning…” He suggested, picking you up almost too easily and getting you to the bed, where you fell asleep quickly because of how tired you were from crying.

Next morning, you woke up with a heavy headache, leaving you dizzy as you couldn’t even recall the passed events. Your mind was a total blackout, as you just sloppily tried to stand up, but the sound of the door opening made you wait.

Jin-Woo moved the door open as he let himself into the room, laying a plate of food alongside a glass of water and a pill near you as he sat down by your side.

“H-huh? Jin-Woo…? What’s going on..?” You asked as you didn’t remember anything special for him to do such a thing, as it was a bit too unlikely for him to do so.

“Just eat… Is there something you want to talk about?” He asked, clearly hinting at something you couldn’t recall. “No…? Is everything alright..? What even happened…? I don’t remember anything…”

“Let’s say you kind-of told me a few things… And I’m here to prove you wrong because yesterday you wouldn’t just listen…” He said with a sigh, leaning down and giving a gentle peck to your lips.

“I love you and only you, okay? Don’t ever think otherwise… I just keep our relationship private because I don’t want the media going all crazy, and you’d be kind-of in danger if you’re seen as my girlfriend… I just want to keep you safe.” He said, with you hearing him clearly astonished, but you couldn’t help but smile with a tear running down your cheek.

“Oh god- Don’t cry again now…” You shook your head and quickly leapt over to hug him, as you smiled. “I’m crying… But not from sadness.” You said, blushing a bit as you just happily let yourself into his arms, with him just shocked and struggling to thinn of what to do.

“I love you, sarang.” You said to his ear as he blushed, but he turned around to prevent you seeing that. “I-I do too, okay..? Now eat up.” You laughed a bit and shook your head, deciding to stay in his arms for a bit longer.

“Just… A few more minutes like this wouldn’t hurt.” You said, burying your face on the crook of his neck. “Just don’t ever worry me like that… Why were you two even that close?!” You said refering to the pictures of him and Hae-In that appeared on the media.

“Oh- She’s really strong, but clumsy. She fell while we took down a boss and she sprained her ankle, had to carry her back.” You blushed as you now realized how you jumped to conclusions, simply staying quiet as you felt the shame falling on you by your previous behaviour.

“I-I’m sorry… Didn’t know that-” You blushed as he laughed a bit, just letting you hide in his arm. “Don’t worry about it, just eat.” He said as you nodded, reminding yourself now that you didn’t have anything to worry about.

#sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling x reader

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fushigurro · 10 months

Text

𝙎𝘼𝘾𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙀.

𝗠𝗘𝗚𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / no pronouns or body part descriptions for reader / penetrative sex / virgin!megumi / premature ejaculation / creampie / slight insinuation that reader is/has been involved with toji???

idk i was feeling weird about the fushiguros last night when i wrote this and it’s showing, so take that as you will. it’s about the beauty of comparing and contrasting okay!!!!! i just really wanted to write about how effing gorgeous megumi is leave me alone 😭

“Why are you so pretty, ‘Gumi? Hm?”

Your thumb grazes the shape of an eyebrow, the slope of his nose, the edge of his bottom lip. Every slow, adoring touch leaves him dazed with pink-tinted cheeks, the affection something of a novelty to him but certainly not unwelcome.

He looks gorgeous peering up at you from where his head presses into the pillows, expression one of both heavy-lidded reverie and curiosity. Lips parted, Megumi searches for an answer to your rhetorical question as the weight of your body in his lap distracts him.

“I, uh…” A breathy, dubious reply for he doesn’t have an appropriate answer to give. He has never been asked such a thing before.

You’re not searching for concrete answers, you’re simply musing aloud, singing the praises of his mere existence. Nature’s workings baffle you. “So pretty like your daddy, but so much sweeter…” You’re leaning down closer this time, soaking in his familiar features with your wandering eyes. Such a peculiar thing to say, such a peculiar position you’ve found yourself in, hips pressing him into the mattress, fingers laced with his on the hand that doesn’t rest upon his chin. There is so much of him that has been cut in the image of his father, yet so much that hasn’t.

“I’m not sweet,” he says as though he’s so sure of it, but not with the intent to argue. However, you must plead your case.

It’s true that Megumi’s soul is saccharine compared to the likes of his father’s; despite the sour layer of angst dusted upon it, you can taste the sugar on the inside. “I think you are, in a way. I know you are.” Your voice is light and your response just as infallible as his own. The gentle kiss you steal from him is just as self-assured.

Your thumb pries at his bottom lip again as your mouth hovers over it, breath warm against his flushed skin. It makes him want to stir beneath you, but he has just enough resolve to resist for the time being.

“You gonna be sweet for me?” you whisper against his lips, savoring the softness of them. You want to keep using your tongue to sip at the sugar inside him now that you’ve had a good taste. Hopefully he’ll let you.

Megumi gulps and tightens his grip on your hand. His face feels hot and his cock twitches beneath all the layers of clothing. This quietly flustered image only makes him that much more picturesque to you, and suddenly you’re cursing the collar of his uniform for being high enough to keep your lips away from where his racing pulse lies. Just one button and his throat would be open for you, just a few more and he’d be halfway bare…

But you’ll wait until you know he wants it. You’ll wait until he tilts forward to pull your lips in for another wobbly kiss, handing himself over to you with an open mouth and willing body.

He looks even prettier laid out and exposed beneath you, cock wet with pre-cum and begging for attention. You’re the first to wrap a hand around it, the first to hear his whines and grunts of pleasure as you offer it to him. You’re the first to sink down on every inch, enveloping him in warmth, fingers still laced together as he fights back an immediate orgasm.

You’re also the first to receive so much trust.

It’s one, two, three more careful rolls of your hips before he’s spilling inside you with a soft, wavering noise. He’s pretty when he cums and has a blissed out look on his face afterwards, one that makes up for every scowl he’s ever worn. He’s too spent to beg for forgiveness for his inexperience, for the way he leaks out of you in a warm, slow trickle.

But his repentance isn’t necessary, because what a privilege it has been to have him on your taste buds, to witness such divine beauty for yourself.

You should be thanking him for even allowing it.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #re: megumi fushiguro #my writing.

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fluffypotatey · 7 months

Note

hey u know how mk only calls wukong by his title and never his name? and how wukong rarely if ever calls mk "mk," instead usually opting for "kid" or "bud?" and how both of those things are kind of representative of their relationship and how both of them care about each other a lot but they aren't honest with each other or with themselves about the other and how neither of them really wants to confront the fact that the other is a person with flaws and struggles? haha yeah <- normal <- lying about being normal

be glad i have been released from class now :) [narrator: she would later find herself late to her 2nd class while writing this]

so happy you have given me this excuse to talk about— i mean, yes! it is super normal to be thinking about this all the time and be comsumed by it and let me explain why:

i will start by going off on a tangent about names and labels and their narratove importance in stories because i love them and have a problem. (idk the word count here. viewer discretion is advized. i just wrote. it is long. beware)

In the Case of Names: a Sunburst Duo Essay

by Yours Truly <3

In the Case of Names in LMK: a Summary (please for the love of pete be a summary)

Ok, so, let me give y'all a quick overview (i failed. this is you're only warning. i failed, and this became a monster of an essay. run while you still have the chan—) of names in the literary sense. When studying novels and books and shit in your literature classes, you will notice that your professor might discuss the importance or ill-importance of characters' names in the story. For example: in the classic novel Fahrenheit 451, the protagonist's name is fucking Guy Montage to illustrate how he's just some fucking guy, a John Doe, a man stuck and complicit in the dystopian world.

You get me? No? Sorry, you want more examples? Fine then :3 let me introduce you to a story called Hard Times by Charles Dickens. It is an allegorical novel that criticized the utilitarian movement going on in dear old Great Britain in the 19th century thanks to the Industrial Revolution. Some fun characters were Johannes Bounderby and Thomas Gradgrind. Tell me, what images did you imagine when I gave you those names? Did you think of a bouncing ball for Bounderby? Were you imagining something square or maybe a mechanical grinder for Mr. Gradgrind?

Remarkable isn't it. The way choosing a name has on a reader/audience's perception of the character. Names are not just placeholders for a character. Names are the identity of that character. Names can establish their starting arc or their ending. Names can be visual in the sense that they invoke a strong idea of what a character might resemble or what themes they will present the audience with. Removing a character's name also removes their identity.

Remember that.

Anyway, I have talked enough about names in the general literary sense. Let us move on to LMK.

Given that this show is based off of Journey to the West (JTTW), many of the names of the antagonist are already provided, and their English translation is pretty literal (Demon Bull King, Lady Bone Demon, Red Son) with some exceptions (Jing & Yin, the Gold and Silver Demons), but their names all provide a description of what they are and how they should be viewed. Spider Queen is a spider demon and views herself as queen. Pretty solid characterization there. Lady Bone Demon, she's a bone demon and has enough rank to be considered a lady (or that could just be to ID that she is a woman but eh). Princess Iron Fan: she's a celestial princess and wields an iron fan. Got it? Good. These examples are simply here to show that a majority of the JTTW antagonists are still fulfilling their roles as antagonistic characters. What I mean is this: since "A Hero is Born," MK has been fighting against the Monkey King's old enemies from the JTTW book. It's like the moment MK inserted himself into the role of successor, the antagonist themselves were inserted to redo their old role of fighting the "Monkey King." It's almost as if nothing has changed beside the fact that their new op enemy is a "human" wielding the legendary staff.

[hmmmm, wait i actually never put this into words until now and it's fitting very well with the whole "MK's fight against Fate/the Narrative" but we'll just put a pin in that.]

However, when it comes to MK's friends (Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, Mei), they all share different names from their reincarnated/ancestral counterparts (Zhu Bajie, Tang Sangzang (they just give Tripitaka a last name lol), Sha Wujing, and Ao Lie). Their identity is separate, distinctive from who they are meant to reflect to the audience. (But look at how Tang still shares the same 1st name to the blessed monk, see how he's the one whose powers are the most similar, see how he being pulled into the direction of emulating the monk, see how much Tang fights it, see—)

Fascinating huh? But let us move on before I forget myself.

In the Case of MK's Names: a Paragraph (DO NOT, i repeat, DO NOT GO OFF THE RAILS)

So, in the English version, there is a running gag about how MK's "real" name is long and complicated, and we don't actually know it. All we know is that MK switched it long before the pilot. And even before MK has that talk with Master Subodhi in s4ep7 (or 6? 8?), I would chuckle at how on the nose his name was. MK the Monkie Kid... how silly of the show writers....ahaha, what a funny little decision to make :)

Do we know why MK changed his name? Other than his original one being long, no. Do we know why MK specifically? We don't know. Maybe, in his fanboy brain for all things Monkey King, MK thought it would be cool to have a name that identified close to his idol. A name that identified with someone he wished to emulate and be as powerful as and felt so connected to. But what do I know? I am a mere local gal who feeds off of metas and theories and all things relating to my beloved sunburst duo.

Then, we have MK's many titles: Monkie Kid (IDs him as the new generations Monkey), Successor (IDs him as the one who will succeed Sun Wukong in both the title of Monkey King and power), Noodle Boy (pronounced "New-dle Boi and IDs as the boy who works in his surrogate/adopted dad's noodle shop), Delivery Boy (his actual job for the noodle shop), and last but not least, Harbinger of Chaos.

What makes a harbinger? What is chaos? What are their intentions? Are they good? Bad? Neutral?

So, I've already defined harbinger before and many others have as well, but to sum up: a harbinger is a being/person/thing that announced the coming of something be it good or bad but most of the time the focus is bad. A "Harbinger of Chaos" then, would be the one to announce the coming of Chaos™️ and the disruption of world order. Is this a bad thing? Well, the show presents it at the moment as so, but that doesn't mean it will be. Honestly, the show has shown order and fixed structures more in a bad light and promotes free will and choosing a destiny that fits you as the good thing 👀 (another thing to pin in the MK might to go war with Fate)

But now I have established MK's names and must shut up and move on before I no longer can.

In the Case of Sun Wukong's Names: some Paragraphs (STAY ON TARGET PLEASE)

I will admit that my knowledge of names in China is very low, and by low, I mean I know nothing (most of what I do know comes from asking friends and informational sites). So, let me begin this segment with an excerpt of Sun Wukong gaining his name from the book itself :) and break it down with my interpretation and how that is applied to LMK.

When the Patriarch heard this, he was secretly pleased, and said, “Well, evidently you have been created by Heaven and Earth. Get up and show me how you walk.” Snapping erect, the Monkey King scurried around a couple of times. The Patriarch laughed and said, “Though your features are not the most attractive, you do resemble a pignolia-eating monkey (husun). This gives me the idea of taking a surname for you from your appearance. I intended to call you by the name Hu. If I drop the animal radical from this word, what’s left is a compound made up of the two characters, gu and yue. Gu means aged and yue means female, but an aged female cannot reproduce. Therefore, it is better to give you the surname of Sun. If I drop the animal radical from this word, what we have left is the compound of zi and xi. Zi means a boy and xi means a baby, and that name exactly accords with the fundamental Doctrine of the Baby Boy. So your surname will be ‘Sun.’” When the Monkey King heard this, he was filled with delight. “Splendid! Splendid!” he cried, kowtowing, “At last I know my surname. May the master be even more gracious! Since I have received the surname, let me be given also a personal name..." ..."You will hence be given the religious name ‘Wake-to-the-Void’ (wukong). All right?” “Splendid! Splendid!” said the Monkey King, laughing. “Henceforth I shall be called Sun Wukong.”

What a fucking cutie <3

So, what can we gather from this excerpt? Sun Wukong just gained his official name. No longer is he a monkey with descriptive titles, no longer is he a monkey without a surname to be referred to as and respected for. He now has both a surname and a personal name. And while I don't fully understand everything Master Subodi listed when naming Sun Wukong, it is important to note the importance of it and how happy Wukong is to receiving it.

Before this, the book would simply refer to Wukong as Shihou (stone monkey) or the Handsome Monkey King. Both of these are descriptive titles that just inform you what Wukong is rather than who, just like with the other demons met in JTTW. But now, we get to know him as Sun Wukong, someone more than his titles and such. There's even an explanation in the preface how Wukong's own personal name has significant meaning or relation to Buddhism, but I won't get too much into that since my knowledge is of that is 0 and I want to try and stick to LMK.

Now then, let us examine Wukong's name in the LMK sense. Literally everyone in the show call him either Monkey King or "simian" (and if he really pissed them off, Sun Wukong). The only people to refer to Wukong by his personal name is Nezha, Macaque, and Peng. It is literally just these three. And while we could argue all say it like "Wukong (derogatory)," I believe Peng's the only one who means it. Meaning, I think Macaque says Wukong because he was the closest friend of SWK, thus that's the only name Macaque would ever call him (sure, he said Monkey King and shit in s1 but that was when he was duping MK soooooooo). Nezha calls him Wukong because after the whole Havoc in Heaven and journey stuff, he is the new oldest member to befriend Wukong and not be enemies with him (yes, he will get annoyed and aggravated by him, and he will not always believe Wukong's intentions are great, but he still cares and is his 2nd closests living friend).

Peng, on the other hand, does not give a shit. I fully believe that guy never cared for Wukong. They only joined the brotherhood because of Azure (they even offered for Azure to be the brotherhood's leader). I do not think Peng cares for formalities when it comes to people they dislike. We could argue that maybe Peng cared for Wukong in the beginning, but I do, honestly, not believe it. The only reason Peng even felt betrayed was because it messed up Azure's plan. Not because the two were sworn brothers.

But yeah, very few characters actually call Sun Wukong by his name, and when they do, it establishes not just how close they are/were, but also how long they've known each other. It's the same thing with how Wukong refers to others. He barely calls Pigsy, Tang, and Sandy by their names. He will give people nicknames and shit just to place a safe distance from them because of his own very unhealthy attachment issues.

In the Case of MK and SWK's Names for Each Other: the Actual Sunburst Duo Essay (you are free now.....)

Speaking of attachment issues, let's talk about the Sunburst Duo and how much these two need to sit down and talk.

So, we have discussed how names are integral to identifying a character's purpose, thematic journey, description. We have discussed how a person's title can clue in on certain characterization, present or future, and how they demonstrate the way others view them. Now let us apply this to our beloved sunburst duo.

As mentioned in your ask, @gumy-shark, both MK and Sun Wukong barely call each other by name (MK never has as far as I am aware, and SWK has done so only a few). It's "Monkey King" from MK and "kid," "bud," "buddy" from SWK. Rarely do the two ever think to say each other's name.

In the beginning, I originally thought MK only calls Wukong "Monkey King" as a way to be respectful, and with Wukong, I assumed he called MK "kid" simply because MK was very young to him. However, as we get into s3, and especially s4, MK and Wukong have grown a lot closer. Neither of them see each other as just a mentor or student but as friends. And yet, they cannot seem to stop calling each other by their title or nickname.

Thus, the distance is still there. S3 ends with Wukong promising to do better as a mentor and be more honest with MK, and we do seem him attempt this. He gives out more praises, he's more open about his feelings and then gets sucked into the memory scroll. But here's the kicker: the two are doing a reverse in their dynamic.

When it starts out, it is Monkey King who establishes the line between the two. He will simply be MK's mentor and teach him all the kid has to know in order to succeed him. MK is ecstatic to even be near SWK. This is his idol, the guy he's had a special interest in for years probably. He now gets to train under the Monkey King. He wants to do good. He wants to kickass. He wants to be just like him.

But as the story goes on, we see SWK open up to MK more and care for him deeply and want to protect him, and we see MK uncover the skeletons in SWK's closet and feel so alone and learn that the power he used to wish for is not what he expected. And in the aftermath of s3, it is now SWK who is opening up and trying to help kindle and safely guide their friendship in a healthier path(ish). It is SWK who is placing his own protege on a pedestal because "loook at him! isn't he so great and powerful! he will help this world a lot more than i did". It is SWK who is disregarding th original rules he placed. But now ,it is MK who is keeping the distance more than SWK. It is MK is trying to force some kind of distance. He feels like he shouldn't burden SWK with his doubts and worries. He is terrified of his own powers and their capabilities and worries his actions will make the same mistake as his mentor.

With s3 and s4, SWK has called MK by name quite a few times. Especially in s4. It's not a lot, but it's definitely more than before. And yet, MK cannot call Wukong by name. Personally, I think he might still feel like he's under Wukong's shadow. As his successor, there is a legacy that he will carry when Wukong actually retires and gives his title to MK (which is what I assume Wukong will do??? It is still unclear what exactly MK's succeeding SWK of). And that legacy is quite the burden. I would not be surprised that MK is unable to place himself as being worthy of taking Wukong's place just yet (if ever).

This guy was his idol for a long time. And with that, you tend to place a high pedestal for those people. MK has given Wukong such a high pedestal, and Wukong is very aware of it. It's why the guy even keeps his distance in the first place, and why he's scared to disappoint him. But, MK has learned so much, has been told of the tales and pain his mentor inflicted on others in the past (a past SWK greatly regrets), and yet cannot find it in himself to lower that pedestal or even allow himself to think about it. Because if he does, then he will have to acknowledge his own pain and his own disappointment in someone he not only admires but has come to love like family. And it is very hard to reckon with the hurt and pain caused by someone you consider family.

So yeah, they are silly monkeys who cannot communicate to save their life and need to just sit down and talk or else this will continue to boil and explode and we'll have a SWK and MK showdown (fuck yeah! i will be crying so hard).

[end of essay]

#was late to my next class because of this #got lost in the sauce that my friend had to text me for me to remember i have CLASS #sigh #hope you enjoyed my scholarly account on names and how they pertain to the sunburst duo #also barely anyone even refers to Tripitaka by name #it's always 'the monk this' or 'the monk that' he only gets called by name if someone is being very formal about it #LITERALLY TRIPITAKA ISN'T EVEN CALLED TRIPITAKA AND IDK WHY #WHY ARE YOU HOLDING OUT LMK EXPLAIN #EXPLAIN YOURSELF #WHY IS TANG'S ANCESTOR BARELY REFERRED TO BY NAME #anyway #there you go #hope you're happy #i used all my brain energy for this #this took me 2 hours to write in total #and that was simply because i chose not to include screencaps from the show itself out of self restraint #lmk #lmk analysis #lmk sunburst duo #lmk sun wukong #lmk mk #lmk qi xiaotian #qi xiaotian #sunburst duo #asks #read more #long post

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frevandrest · 6 months

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hello i am new to frevblr and i am confused... many people says saint just was very nice and other says he was not scared to be cruel... which one is the truth?

I think "nice" and "cruel" are not the best way to describe SJ, although he had both positive and negative sides (I mean, don't we all, but he sure seemed to consciously cultivate sternness, particularly in official/political situations).

Cruel - depends on how you understand it. He knew to be severe and inflexible, but not in the sense of idk, liking to torture people or get physical with them or any sort of wickedness of that kind. There are really no sources on him being like that. Even less any sort of sexual violence (which he actually spoke so, so much against, to the point where he was: "Who hits a woman is to be put to death"). So actually I feel this can be an illustration of that severity.

I emphasize this, because he is so often characterized as wicked and enjoying torture or violence, including sexual violence against women. I don't know where this idea comes from.

He was generally polite (as in, following the rules of polite conduct in public), and a bit reserved.

But yes, he was a revolutionary who did not shy away from using legally proscribed measures. Not as much as he is remembered, but he has his share of responsibility for what went down. He was also quick to get offended - he was very proud and he knew to take even some slight offence as if it was a horrible humiliation. I assume it made him not always the most relaxing person to be around.

Now, his colleagues typically descirbed him as cold, stoic, inflexible and unemotional. This is often done as part of demonizing post-Thermidor portraits so they sure have and added layer of negative feelings.

Still, I think it is safe to assume that he did cultivate this cold and stern and inflexible air in politics and the public sphere. I feel he did it consciously, because he was the youngest deputy and he knew what it was like to not be taken seriously on age basis. He wanted to be taken seriously, and he cultivated this image to achieve that goal. (I think he also overcorrected in some ways, but YMMV).

I say "cultivated that image" because his friends claim that he was very different in private. Much nicer and friendlier, and softer. Now, of course, friends' descriptions are also subjective but it is constantly repeated that he was different in private that I feel there was some truth to it. Plus, what we know from his teen years (and writings - Organt my beloved), it reveals a personality that is much more emotional (even to high degrees), playful and sensitive. (He was super sensitive and insecure about different stuff, which I feel reflected on both his good and bad sides). Of course, he was older during the Convention but given friends' descriptions, it seems probable that his character did not completely change. So I do think he was different in public vs private (again, aren't we all, but I think he was a more extreme case of that).

So yes, he was a complex person, and not always easy to understand (from our point at least). The way he is remembered is full of inaccuracies and it's not always easy to figure out what is the real Saint-Just and what are layers of interpretations and propaganda.

#ask #anonymous #frev #saint-just

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snek-panini · 6 months

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It's been a few weeks since I had new books to share, but I finally got photos taken of the newest ones so today's the day. Here, have a book:

This is Across Tides and Currents, a Good Omens siren AU by Sodium_Azide and @doorwaytoparadise (hi. I hope I tagged you right). My favorite thing about this AU is that, at its heart, it's about learning to communicate with someone who is so different from you that you can't even physically speak each other's language, and yet you've still got so much common ground that you find a way. It's way lighter and more fun than that description makes it sound, though, so go read it if that's your thing.

The cover on this is Lineco book cloth, scrapbook paper printed to look like leather, and blue foil htv. The foil was actually a nightmare to do. The first time I applied it, it wouldn't stick no matter what I did, and the bits that did stick peeled off as soon as I touched them. I had to peel them up very carefully, cut a new image, and try again. Thankfully it worked the second time but I don't know that I'll be using the foil type again unless there's no other way to get the color I want. The non-foil metallic was so much easier to work with.

More book photos under the cut!

I went with a coptic bind for this one for a few reasons. The first was that I wanted to try one on a quarto-size book to see if I could. I also wanted to try the mitered corners thing I did when I bound Strange Moons, and see if I could have the same effect on the interior. (That bit didn't work out so well; the front is fine but I mismeasured the inside and the lines didn't match up, so I trimmed some pieces of cardstock to cover that up. I really like the layered look though, so that's fine. It's quirky.) The third reason is that not long before I decided to bind this one, the authors published a new chapter after two years of no updates. That's the best possible reason to have to change plans, and the glueless bind means that if they ever do that again I can just redo the stitching to add more pages. Win-win.

Getting whimsical with title pages here. This took way longer than I thought it would, probably because I don't like graphic design and I did it in Word where I do the rest of my typesetting. Usually what I do is grab an image and put text around it or on top of it and then just play with fonts and sizes, but this time I drew the lines and then made the text follow them. This is the first time I've used the word art feature since...probably 2009? I'd forgotten how. I have no doubt there are better ways to do this but if I'd had to learn a new program at that point I'd have quit. And I do think it was worth it--it's cute and fun and looks about how I imagined it.

Couple of photos of the inside. Sorry the first one's blurry, I had someone trying to get my attention when I took these. The section break image came from rawpixel, I just made it gray instead of black so it's more subtle. The fic has very nice illustrations that I specifically got the artist's permission to print and then I failed to get any photos of them when I did my little photo shoot. They look very nice, though. I swear.

The last image is something I've started including in my latest books. I'm calling them "A Note from the Bookbinder" and it's basically just me talking about why I chose that story, the experience of reading it for the first time, stuff that's going on in the fandom, stuff about the process like the new chapter coming out as I was preparing to print. It's kind of...like marginalia? Part of fanbinding is preservation and that's linked to archival work, and something I know archivists love is marginalia and diaries. I don't like writing in my books and I've never found any fun in journaling, but sometimes that kind of context is important so I'm trying to add it. Someday, decades from now, I may not remember all the details, so I'm trying to preserve them. IDK, this got philosophical on me. Go read about mermaids now. Promise it's a good time.

#bookbinding #fanbinding #snek makes books #good omens #fic rec #i wanted to do this as a mermay project #that did not happen #i finished it in october #happy mertober

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theriverbeyond · 5 months

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just finished blue eye samurai, my extensive thoughts below the cut but tl;dr IM OBSESSED, it was really good, I highly recommend this show. it is gory and beautiful and so fucking good.

spoiler free thoughts first, then will label where I start discussing spoilers.

Ok so first off my thoughts about the title & character design:

i saw a fair amount of discourse before it even dropped about how it was Bad for giving an asian character blue eyes, which like, on a surface level fair! I get it!! it does Shit to the body image for all the Cool Asian People to have light colored eyes. i get being a persom of color and wishing badly for white features instead of my very much nonwhite ones

But the actual story smacked me in the face with like. Mizu is a mixed race person with physical traits that clock them immedietly as mixed race, in a context where they must hide those traits to "pass" or else face discrimination or death. this is revealed in... the first 5 minutes maybe??? and the fact that it is their white features that mark them as "other" "demon" "monster" is because the story takes place IN JAPAN where the ethnic majority is JAPANESE. and that's. like. that's a STORY!!! that's WAY DIFFERENT from "asian character has light eyes bc it looks cool". and Mizu does look cool, that is undeniable. but it's part of the story. idk!!! i just feel those critiques were pushed out way too fast with no understanding of what the show is about and while i think in a vacum we should have more positive, "looks cool" representation of nonwhite features, a story about a mixed race person is maybe not the one to criticize about this specific topic. to me.

NOT SPOILERS REALLY IF YOU READ THE EPISODE SUMMARIES BUT IT WAS A JUMPSCARE TO ME AS SOMEONE WHO WENT IN BLIND re: mizu's gender:

I went in blind and due to the way the story is structured and how it addresses Mizu's gender, I read it as an intentionally transmasc story and was absolutely jumpscared the first time I opened the episode menu and saw it refering to Mizu with she/her pronouns. and then after watching I went on ao3 (as one does) and people also seem to use she/her on there??

and obviously. this is fine. canon, really, considering the netflix episode descriptions. and probably it was way too optimistic of me to even ASSUME that someone would be able to create an intentionally transgender samurai action animation series on Netflix. but i just REALLY see them as either a gay trans man or he/they nonbinary and am just having an Experience reconciling what i got from the show directly vs how I am seeing other people talk about the character/the show.

I would write fic to fix this but my knowledge of edo peripd japan is so slim I feel I would make unforgivable and offensive mistakes... idk... like obviously the show itself refers to Mizu with she/her so I have no leg to stand on wrt feeling upset about seeing it but I sure was surprised.

THEMES OF THE SHOW specifically about race (some spoilers maybe, but not specific late show ones): cw for discussions of historical and canon sexual violence

I am deeply, deeply intrigued and invested in the story, and am specifically fascinated with how it is dealing with like, white imperial violence. Mizu is hated because they are mixed race, specifically mixed Japanese and white. It is shown in the show that white people and whiteness is hated because of the violence that white men have brought to japan; opium, human trafficking, slaughter, and multiple other abuses. Mizu, as well as other theoretical mixed race children exist almost solely due to the rape of Japanese women by white men. They are hated and hunted by both their white fathers and everyone else in Japan (because of their proximity to white imperial violence, even when the children themselves are a product of that violence).

Mizu is on a revenge quest against their white father specifically, who is presumably one of the four known white men in Japan. Mizu faced discrimination and abuse from everyone, but it is their *father*, who they have never met (vs the multiple abuses they faced from Japanese kids, their mother, etc etc etc), that they are hunting. not anyone else. because their father must have raped and abused their mother. their mother who to their knowledge betrayed!!!! them. This is just such an INTERESTING and COMPLICATED and FASCINATING dynamic like. I'm eating it with a fucking spoon my brain is on fire (positive). Probably more to say and I hope/wish I am saying it in a reasonable enough way but. im eating this. I really love this.

MORE THOUGHTS likely spoilers ahead. you have been warned

im chewing the bars of my cage... taigen and mizu need to kiss sloppy style. WHEN MIZU SAW THE TWO MEN KISSING IN THE BROTHEN AND THOUGHT ABT FIGHTING TAIGEN???? this too can be yaoi

when they cut together Mizu GETTING NAKED TO FORGE STEEL and akemi having sex??? CINEMA

there are cocks in this show. i had to DM multiple friends about the cock jumpscare. also there was sex which was frankly awesome. fuck yeah for adult animation that is serious storytelling with beautiful art. the nudity in this show was like less explicit than many HBO shows but it was a similar vibe/energy in a way that felt really cool and normal. it didn't feel gratuitous it felt like "this show is for adults and features sex and ful frontal". more of this in adult animation please

too many occasions of Mizu being wildly hot hot for me to count... they are SO whumpable and also when they fought in the makeup that ran so it looked like they were crying blood??? when they killed all those guys? when they killed all those OTHER guys????? Mizu are you free tuesday. are you free tonight.

THEYRE GOING TO LONDON??? I'm going to die if this doesn't get a season 2 but I'm also so scared like it is so good... what if they RUIN it in season 2. what if all the complicated interesting bits get sanitized. what if they stop letting Mizu kill people. what if they make Mizu have a girl power woman moment. anyway i need this to be renewed SO BAD I need to know what happens. I need Mizu to get bloody revenge on the 4 white men who have brought such pain to the country. MIZU IS GOING ON THIS QUEST FOR REVENGE AND DIGGING 4 GRAVES‼��‼️‼️‼️

Fucking loved the tropes like. Yes they are going to face off 200 armed warriors and kill them all. of course they are.

Akemi was there. ok ok ok actually I really liked her coming into her own and trying to make her own power.... was really sad when that immedietly got fucked up for her. Really interested in her developing in future season(s) into her own person, I hope she doesnt go back to taigan bc i think she can do better and also her story is more interesting when she is trying to Make It And Be Someone vs running after him.

I feel like this show is Saying a lot of things but in a way where it is up to the reader to pick them up and think about them vs sending a soecific message. Which rocks honestly.

Animation, gorgeous. It was 3D it looks like and some tiny bits are less than stellar but OVERALL. fucking beautiful. hot. etc.

Really liked the story. this was really good and I already want to rewatch it. clawing my walls. i could go on but will stop for now

#trb.txt #media blogging #blue eye samurai #i wanna write fic but i don't know enough about edo japan..... this is so tragic.....

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bomberqueen17 · 8 months

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oops

lol yet again i missed doing my friday update schedule. in my defense, a lot's been going on. before I say anything else I should also say-- DMs on Tumblr currently do not work for me, the message thing shows me the preview but if I click on it, I absolutely cannot open the window, it will hang for literal days. I have the square blank in the corner of this tab as I am composing and no longer remember what I was trying to get it to open. So if you send me an IM on Tumblr I will only be able to read whatever of it is in the preview! So don't be offended if I never respond, because I can't write back because the window literally never opens. I got one to open yesterday but it was about 45 minutes and a lot of window reloading. I think it's safe to say that feature's just gotta be dead to me. RIP.

Anyway what's been up! my BFF from high school came thru Thursday night with her kids to stay in my cabin and i was a bit frantic getting the place ready, as it's not exactly listed on AirBnB. (She was like "oh wow this is a lot bigger and nicer than i thought" girl you were going to cram your children and yourself into a tiny half-finished shack with me? what??? jeez) and at the last minute Dude was like "oh i'm coming too" which, fortunately, I had put myself into a full-size bed on the pull-out couch so there was room for him to be there too but if this were any smaller a tiny house that would not have been possible. see, this is why i didn't actually build a tiny tiny house, it wouldn't have worked.

Anyway they left friday and i spent the day making sausage as fast as i could, and then in the afternoon dude helped me package it and then! i had! two full days! off! (ok i'm in the second of those days rn) so

saturday being My Birthday I made a snap decision that we were going to go see some art, so we drove over to the Clark Institute in Williamsburg MA (like a long half-hour away, it's not far) and saw some of my good buddies in the permanent collection.

(Mom used to take us kids there when we were little, and there are a lot of Renoirs and John Singer Sargent and some Frederic Rembrandt and Winslow Homer and whatnot, many of which I have seen so often as to consider old friends. (This Bougereau, Mom had a poster of on her bedroom wall, and I have always loved it. Apparently, my grandpa upon seeing it-- not the letters grandpa, the other one-- exclaimed of the one whose back faces the viewer "Oh Betty, it's you!" Betty being my grandma.)

I discovered quite by accident, while fucking around on my phone, that there was a Pokestop out in the courtyard, and the Pokestop was titled something about Jenny Holtzer, and i was like wait what and sure enough. There's a set of four white granite benches out there with Jenny Holtzer engravings on them.

This one is fucking brutal, as her shit tends to be:

[image description: a white granite bench engraved with the following text, somewhat darkened by pooled rainwater: "BY YOUR REPONSE TO DANGER IT IS EASY TO TELL HOW YOU HAVE LIVED AND WHAT HAS BEEN DONE TO YOU YOU SHOW WHETHER YOU WANT TO STAY ALIVE, WHETHER YOU THINK YOU DESERVE TO, AND WHETHER YOU BELIEVE IT'S ANY GOOD TO ACT."]

There was also a temporary exhibition of paintings and woodcuts/lithographs/prints by Norwegian artist Edvard Munch, yes including a lithograph of That Painting. Fairly stunning! Running thru October, I recommend it if you're in the area!

ok idk what else has been happening. i am so tired. i might play some pokey mans today but i also might just. not. really. do much of anything. which is boring and dumb and won't make me feel better next week when i have to go back and do more work and have achieved none of my personal goals. but sometimes brain no worky, and that's that.

#about the author

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loganlermanstanaccount · 9 months

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Omg I recently found your Miguel and Joel fics and your writing is so good!! I have to ask, as an aspiring fic writer, do you have any tips on how to write/improve fanfic or find your writing own style? I have so many docs files worth of half-finished fics (since I suffer from not-good-enough syndrome), and I try to learn as much as can from those I admire. If this ends up being answered, thank you so much!!

hey! thank you for the ask and it's taken me a while to answer cuz I had to think long and hard to give you something useful lmfao... and it means a lot that people enjoy my writing enough to even ask me for advice!! thank you anon, and I hope this helps :D

a/n: I'm not an expert, not even a little bit, but I like writing on here and I'm writing a book! so those are my (lack of) credentials - just a heads up

gonna split my advice into parts: before writing, during, and after; and also give some tips on writer's block / "not-good-enough-syndrome" (very very valid, btw)

Before writing

- Planning is not always necessary but I find it helps! it doesn't even have to be a really detailed one, like mapping out every story beat - but writing rough notes can help you guide it along better. And if you're not actively planning, thinking about the fic in more detail can act as a plan.

- Unironically, all my fics start off as vivid daydreams, which I then jot down notes, and start writing. If you think of your plan as guidelines rather than something rigid, it can help with flow. I.e. if when you start writing you're finding it hard to hit a certain beat, there's no need to force it in that direction.

- It can help to emulate the writing styles of writer's you like - like an artist study but with fics/literature you like. Take a couple of fics you really really like and jot down what you enjoy about it, and specificity is key. What about their language do you enjoy? Is it their use of metaphors, is it the way they describe actions, or the little character details they include? It can help to have this list on hand when you actually start writing.

- Similarly, you can try little writing exercises to get you thinking about that kind of thing. It think I saw this in a youtube vid, but a thing I've done in the past is take a scene from a movie or book and try to emulate in one of two ways, or both: first, as best you can remember, as close to the style of the original work as possible. And second, in your own words, trying to hit certain plot beats as best you can, leaving the rest up to you. For example, I always did it with the opening of the hunger game's first chapter, because it was something really distinctive to me and a property I enjoy. The important thing here is to not have the reference in front of you. The aim isn't to copy exactly, but to imitate / get your brain thinking about the way in which the author / filmmaker / etc portrays the story.

Whilst writing

There is a lot of very valid general writing advice in terms of language and actually writing, so I'll list some general ones below, (idk if this was quite your question tho):

- vary sentence length and structure. it adds rhythm and texture to your writing. but also be wary and try to align it to the context: i.e. a more fast-paced action scene would benefit from short, staccato sentences, but a scene describing characters falling in love (hazy, romantic, etc) might be better with longer, multi-claused sentences to drag out pace.

- focus less on stuffing in adjectives (i am very guilty of this, icl) but rely on the specificity of your nouns to portray information I.e. instead of 'spindly, thin and wire-framed glasses' using 'spectacles' is both more efficient and sounds a bit nicer.

- depends on the writer, but try to work backwards from images and motifs for characters, places, etc rather than the other way round. I.e. if your character is as fierce as a lion, instead of stating that as a simple simile, imply the metaphor with description: "her flowing mane (note specificity of noun, mane, not hair) cascades around her maw - spit-slick and eyes wild. Carnal, she was a killer; and God help those caught between her claws." (<< this is corny asf, lmfao, my bad. but u get the gist), and then you can pepper your text with callbacks to the motif - like little easter eggs for your reader.

- similar to above, adverbs often break up the flow of text, so choose the verbs carefully. Instead of "Hurriedly, he ran" even more info can be given with "tumbled" or "stuttered" etc etc

- break up dialogue with action rather than the usual alternatives for "said" .

- also also, "said" and other simple words are not bad to use at all!! sometimes they work better in the text than every dialogue word being "whispered" or "crooned" or whatever. you can repeat words without reaching for a thesaurus every time, cuz often its alternatives are more jarring and noticeable to read.

- honestly, above all the 'feel' of the text trumps everything else, or at least it does for me. There is no point using a super complex metaphor if it comes out of nowhere, or breaks up the tension of a scene. These aren't hard rules, and if it serves your story more to 'break' them, then you absolutely should! Definitely read aloud where you can (ik it's a little embarassing with fics, sometimes). In terms of my specific style, I'm a big fan of poetry so i like to pay careful attention to the way words and sentences sound! I love using fricatives or plosives or words that sound the way they feel (if that makes any sense), sentences that have rhythm due to placement of commas and semicolons - I think it makes for a more enjoyable read.

- don't be afraid to jump around when writing. Often, the issue is with starting out, so chop and change where necessary and jump around the fic. If there's a specific scene you're really excited about writing, write that first! and then once you're in more of a flow, the rest should be a bit easier.

- I can't really help with grammar cuz I know my grammar fucking sucks; there's probably an editor out there that has a heart attack everytime I overuse a semi-colon lmfao.

After writing

- For me, editing is the most important part of writing. Due to the way I write it's where a fic can really be elevated or fucked. A lot of the stuff I write initially is gibberish, and then is improved massively in the first edit.

- so with that, don't be afraid to shift things around: sentences, words, whole passages if need be. If you're writing in a word processor, take advantage of it's features. if it helps, make a copy of your fic and really 'fuck' it up: move shit around, get rid of wonky words, etc. be ruthless lmfao - cuz it's only the copy. if you tend to over describe (like me), I promise you that backspace button is your best friend.

- depends on how long it is, but take it in chunks (this is with both editing and writing) focus on the chunks and then expand out into the whole.

- it's important to be reflective. if you get through the process, or hit a slump and you're unsatisfied; be specific about why. where exactly did it stop working for you? is it the way you've described a scene? does it feel slow? too fast? do your characters feel flat? no stakes? be specific, and if you can, highlight where it went wrong. the comment feature on docs is my favourite to use because of this reason

- also, please remember to give yourself your flowers! where it works, no matter how small, make sure to highlight it and say, "I really like this bit, because of xyz". the 'because' is important, as it helps you do this again in later fics.

writer's block / not-good-enough-syndrome

- first off, remember that 9 times out of ten, you are your own worst critic. I guarantee that the things you don't like about your writing, someone will read and very much enjoy it! humans aren't great at being objective, so give yourself some grace and leeway to learn and improve.

- second, best way to overcome this is exposure therapy, imo. Tumblr is a great place for this: you can make a side blog and dump all the fics you think are a bit shit on there. It may gain some traction, it may not; but the most important part is that you've put yourself out there, and nothing exploded. and because there are no stakes, you can get rid of the blog as you see fit, with little to no consequences, and never have to think about it again.

- if you do end up posting, please don't get bogged down by the metrics! it can suck when something you've worked really hard on doesn't do very well. the great thing about fanfic, is that it's a really easy way to improve quickly. if you like something enough to want to write fanfic - you're more likely to write. More writing = more improvement, and you get to enjoy fucking around with the canon or a self insert or writing smut or whatever.

in terms of overcoming writer's block / having lots of half finished fics you can approach it a couple of ways:

- you can brute force finish a fic, no matter how shitty you think it is, and try to salvage what you can in the edit.

- lower the stakes! if you can't write a thousand words, leave it at 500! often when you move the goalposts closer, there's less of a mental block, and you end up bringing it to it's natural conclusion anyway.

- if you've got multiple unfinished fics, frankenstein that bitch lmfao. cut and paste and stick the best bits together. You like that one interaction? cool, stick it onto a bit from another fic. You've come up with a great piece of dialogue? great, stick it in the middle of that fic. Because you're not necessarily coming up with new content, just repurposing old bits and bobs, often you find you're writing the inbetween-y bits anyways and you've got a full fic.

- take a break! leave stuff unfinished, sleep on it; come back in a day, a week, a month. fresh eyes can make all the difference when you've been staring at it too long.

finding your writing style:

- read, read, read, read. other fics, books, even consuming media generally to find a voice. You can be reflective and specific, like I mentioned in the other points to help yourself along, but expanding your horizons will do wonders for your writing.

- e.g. my favourite book is Lolita and I'm in loooove with the writing style: it's a beautiful balance of poetic with a strong narrative voice. I love poetry (Ocean Vuong you will always be famous!), and gorgeous, existential films filled to the brim with subtext (Blade Runner 2049, Howl's moving castle, Moonlight, etc). You probably can't notice that explicitly in my writing but it does show up: I love wistful rambling, heavy imagery, strong thematic motifs... all things I've connected with in other media, and emulated in my writing.

Your "voice" comes later, I think - something that happens without you actively looking for it. Who you are, your experiences, your connections with other people: it's pretty hard to keep that out of your writing. So don't stress! The page is like a block of wood; it scratches, it dents, it erodes - chips away into something new, entirely. Your writing remembers, and it doesn't stop being yours when you walk away from it.

Hope this wasn't pretentious or annoying or anything! best of luck anon and feel free to dm me cuz I'd love to read whatever you come up with (no pressure, ofc).

If anyone has any other writing tips I will do my best to reblog them, thanks <33

#x reader #writing #writing advice #fic writing #miguel o'hara x reader #joel miller x reader #fandom things #x reader fics #fanfic

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