#originally was gonna write this down in a fic but decided to draw it out instead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blossomwritesthings · 6 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭

pairing: jisung x fem!reader x male oc (afab)

genre: producer!jisung/hairstylist!reader. badboy!jisung. enemies to lovers. twin dynamic. cheating/infidelity au. some angst. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. thematic elements. just a tad bit of angst in this, but mainly, it's just degenerate shit. cheating is a big part of this. smut warnings below cut!!

word count: 4.1k

summary: the han twins are infamous in south korea for being the #1 duo in the country, with han jisoon gifted in rapping and han jisung in producing. jisoon is the best man a girl could ever ask for- and a wonderful boyfriend. it's just too bad that jisung is the one you truly want out of the two brothers.

18+ warnings: unprotected sex (keep it safe, my friends). kindaa jealousy sex. harddom!jisung. cheating sex. sub!reader. fingering. dom/sub undertones. degradation (slut, whore, etc.). manhandling kink. size kink. humiliation. dumbification. ownership/possession. jisung edges reader a bunch. overstimulation galore. lots of dirty talk. breeding kink!!. subspace. orgasm denial.

a/n: OKAY- SO !!!! 😖 I first got inspired to write this months ago just from watching this edit over and over again. 😩 originally, this was gonna be a chan fic, but I decided to change it to hanji at the last minute, so here we are lol! 😂 honestly, this is kind of an interesting premise for a longer series, so idk... if I'm feeling inspired to, I might expand on this oneshot and make another part to it... lmk if that's smth you guys would be interested in!! 🤎

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

"W-We shouldn't be doing this," you gasped out, feeling the rise of your arousal flooding every part of your mind. It overtook all of your senses - forcing you to see stars, making the blood in your veins boil deliciously, casting visions of rainbows across your mind, flashes of effervescent violet and topaz coating your eyelids. "It's... it's not right."

The man between your legs was incessant in his movements, pressing your spine a little harder into the shower's cool tiled wall. One hand clamped down onto your hip, nails digging into sensitive flesh there, as he held you up, continuing to hoist your legs around his waist tightly. His other hand was busy at work between your colliding bodies, thumb drawing messy circles around your clit. It was so fucking puffy and felt like it was engulfed in a vat of flames.

"Why? Because you wanna deny that you're mine? That only I can make you feel this way, only I can fit this pussy so well?" His messy raven locks curled underneath the shower's hot steam, his entire naked form covered in a glistening sheen of suds and sweat and water. "You stay with him- with that prick, but you and I both know that he doesn't bring you to your knees like this- doesn't fuck you as well as I do."

And the worst part about it- was that you knew he was right.

Deep down, in the depths of your heart, mind, and spirit, you knew he only spoke the truth.

That's the thing that killed you the most.

The Han twins were infamous in the music industry - raising their empire of success from the ground up in the basement of their parent's house when they were just young boys in middle school. As they grew older, they only became better at their crafts - Han Jisoon with his rapping, and Han Jisung with his producing.

Soon after their 18th birthday, they made their official debut in the Seoul music scene. Instantly, their first track was a complete hit - sweeping the nation with its catchy rhythm and unique rap lines. It was unlike anything anyone had ever heard, and by the time the twins turned twenty-one, they were on track to be the biggest stars of their generation - overtaking all other duos in the industry and winning all the year-end awards.

You met Jisoon, the singer out of the duo, when you were training to become a hair colorist and he was in his late twenties. One day, a mysterious man came into your salon in Hongdae. Soon after you heard your teacher talk about who he was to some of the other stylists there - you realized that the man you would be working with was none other than the biggest star in the country at the moment.

Instantly, there was a connection between the two of you. His smiles were so warm, the way he spoke to you so soft and delicate, his laugh contagious. His happiness was infectious, and like a drug, you began to think of nothing but him. After work that day, you came home to watch all of his performances and interviews, completely captivated by his persona.

As it turns out, he decided to use your salon for his monthly appointments - and soon, after you graduated with your specialty license in hair color, you became his personal hair colorist.

It didn't take long after that until you two grew a deep connection, and then he was asking for your number before he took you out on your first date together, and the rest... was history.

Honestly, he was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. He was so fucking kind and sweet and considerate. He wasn't selfish in the least bit and always wanted the best for you. And when you told him you wanted to keep things on the down-low in regards to your relationship, he heeded your wishes. Over the three years that you two had been dating, not a single word had gotten out to the press about your relationship. Sure, his fans speculated about his relationship status, but no one ever came out with any hard evidence of his true girlfriend.

He had even met your parents during Chuseok soon after your first anniversary, much to their delight. He brought over gifts for your mother and spent time out on your father's boat fishing in the early morning even though he hated fishing and always got seasick. Your mother fell in love with him during your trip, and wouldn't stop talking about the expensive rice cakes he had brought her for that holiday season. Your father also took a keen liking to him, saying he enjoyed having a fishing partner, which was your father's way of saying that he approved of your choice of a man.

All of your friends loved Han Jisoon too. Your best friend, Ryujin, was obsessed with your relationship - and was always checking up on the two of you. She was just chomping at the bit for him to propose, and every Christmas that passed, she claimed that 'next year, he'll do it on New Year- I swear to you that he will.'

Jisoon liked to hang out with you and your friends when his schedule allowed him to, and you did the same with his large group of friends. Granted, most of his connections were either famous producers or other popular singers, but still - you liked the fact that he wasn't afraid to introduce you to the important people in his life. Because all of it made you feel important to him.

Not to mention all of the gifts he got you - sending you huge bouquets of your favorite flowers when he was away on tour, and sending you little gifts here and there 'just because.' Like the box of chocolates during a particularly shitty day of your period, or the small teddy bear that was programmed with his voice and said 'I love you,' that he bought for you during one of his promotional business trips to Taiwan.

Overall, he was the best person you had ever met. He was funny and quirky and so fucking entertaining to be around. Not to mention talented- he could write thirty lines of rap within an hour, something you never could get over even after years of knowing him. He was perpetually changing his hair color too, thanks to your help - and for the past year, he had been rocking a dusty blonde look. He also loved to dress in bright colors and wasn't one to shy away from all the new fashion trends.

So... everything must've been amazing, right?

You had a beautiful, unique boyfriend who fucking adored you and practically worshipped the ground you walked on.

So then, what was the problem?

Well, for one thing, the root of the entire bane of your existence was his twin brother, Han Jisung.

With his perpetually messy black hair, onyx eyes, and scowl he always seemed to wear no matter what. You had never seen him dressed in anything other than dark clothes - grays and blacks only.

His temperament matched his outward appearance, with his downright rude personality at times and his snide comments that were always directed towards you. He was an absolute thorn in your ass and he loved being one.

He and your boyfriend couldn't be more different from each other, and you were almost surprised when you first met him after you and Jisoon first started dating. Because... they were such stark opposites of each other it was almost comical.

But Jisoon loved his brother, despite his flaws and all, and since they had an entire career together, you were forced to share space with your boyfriend's other half. When Jisoon would invite you over to the studio late at night to listen to some of the new lyrics he had written, there Jisung was. Sitting at the desk in the recording studio, directing everything and making changes to the track... just brooding for a fight.

When he worked, Jisung was even more serious than his normal day-to-day persona; changing into this silent, man with a menacing kind of aura surrounding him as he sat behind a huge desk in their shadowy recording studio.

You'd be turned on by the sight of it all if you were dating Jisoon - his twin brother.

But as it turns out, life has a funny way of playing tricks on you...

On your mind and heart and everything you had grown accustomed to.

And before you even realized it was happening, your dynamics were changing. No longer was it you and Jisoon against Jisung. Slowly but surely, throughout your relationship, you somehow grew closer to your boyfriend's twin brother.

It started with him being a little nicer to you randomly during your visits to the recording studio, or during the luncheons you'd sometimes attend with your boyfriend and his entire crew.

Han Jisung turned out to be kind of... nice.

Despite all of his flaws and rude mannerisms.

But even so, he was still an asshole, he was still annoying most of the time and a total prick. He liked to get under your skin, and wiggle around in there - teasing you just enough to the point where you were close to blowing up at him. But he always pulled back eventually.

Almost like, he enjoyed the thought of edging you irrevocably, for years on end.

Things came to a screeching halt though, when the twins were on tour and Jisoon invited you to tag along with him to their dates in Japan. Not wanting to deny the offer since you had always wanted to visit the country, you joined him during the four days that he and Jisung would be in Tokyo.

At first, everything was going smoothly.

Their rehearsal the night before their first show went well, and you enjoyed sightseeing with your boyfriend after he was finished with preparations. After the two of you got back to your hotel, Jisoon quickly fell asleep in your shared queen-sized bed, completely exhausted from his busy schedule.

And then somehow, you had found yourself roaming the halls of the luxurious hotel, stumbling upon a small alcove in the back of the spacious place, fit with a self-serve mini bar and a few velvet-lined seats overlooking the glittering night's cityscape.

But the person who was sitting in one of those seats was the thing that surprised you the most, with his black tresses and even darker stare. He regarded you with a tilt of his head, swishing around the ice in his crystal glass that was filled with dark bourbon.

Pathetically, it only took you three drinks in.

Perhaps the red wine they served at the hotel's mini bar was more potent than the stuff you were used to in South Korea.

Or, perhaps you were just as exhausted as your boyfriend Jisoon from spending the day traveling across the city and sightseeing.

But before you knew it, you had somehow migrated onto Jisung's lap, allowing him to place his palms on your ass that was just barely covered by the mini skirt you had changed into to tour the city with Jisoon earlier that night.

"I have a boyfriend, Jisung," you had said, as the man before you leaned in a little closer to your form. Nose coming close to your exposed neck, he had breathed in a deep sigh. Your spine shuttered from how near he was to you. Nearer than the two of you had ever been before. "Jisoon- he- he loves me."

After that, Jisung looked up at you with a raised eyebrow, a dark, familiar look twirling right there in his eyes. He stared on at you in silence, before he let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Oh please- you couldn't give a flying fuck about my brother. Especially not when you're with me..."

The moment his lips had come in contact with your skin, you melted instantly - like a bar of milk chocolate being held over the high flames of a fire. The fire ended up being him, his heat engulfing you as his mouth came around the spot between your clavicle and neck, teeth biting down there slowly, tongue darting out and licking ever so slightly.

"I've seen the way you stare- you're practically begging me to fuck you at any chance that we're together," Jisung had grunted out, his mutterings fanning against your skin and making the butterflies erupt even faster in the pit of your stomach. "Such a little whore- why have one brother when you can have two, right?"

After that, you were trying to push him away. Palms on his muscular chest, you tried to move off of his lap. But his digits just dug in harder to the supple flesh of your asscheeks, and when you moved slightly, you could feel the hardness of his middle gently hitting up into your warm center.

In the end, you couldn't deny the wetness that was slowly growing in your panties. But you could sure try your damndest to forget about it all. "I'm dating someone else, we... can't..." Your voice trailed off after that, as his mouth traced up the column of your neck, pressing light, heart-fluttering kisses against your jawline and the corner of your mouth.

"Too bad you're such a horrible fucking liar then," Jisung said in a low voice, staring into your eyes and giving you that look - the one he always leveled your way when he was officially done with your bullshit. "Too bad I can no longer ignore the wetness that's growing between your legs- ignore the way you press these cute little pussy lips together each time I make you squirm with my taunting."

In the next instant, he was pressing his mouth against yours, swallowing up your groan of surprise, quieting the moans that threatened to slip free from deep inside of you when his tongue danced against yours.

Turns out, he was right.

Without even really realizing it, you had been taunting him.

For fucking years.

With your combativeness, and playful banter. Not to mention, the long stares and shifting in your seat every time he made you feel... bothered.

He was like a powerful magnet, something you couldn't deny the pull of any longer.

Your kiss there on the chair in the hotel alcove turned into something heated and disastrous, and soon, you found yourself locked up in Han Jisung's hotel room - hands pinned against the soft downy mattress as his thick cock ripped you right open. He drew the filthiest of sounds out from the depths of your soul as he pounded into you completely raw, fucking you well into the night. He edged you for hours - just like he did in your regular lives - before bringing you over the brink of five different orgasms.

The sex with your boyfriend Jisoon was good,

but nothing could compare to the way that Jisung made you feel that night.

How filled up you had felt - completely whole in every way possible.

Usually, the sex with your boyfriend was fairly quick, very vanilla, and in the same three positions.

Meanwhile, Jisung had you in all kinds of ways that night - knees, back, stomach. You name it, he somehow coaxed you into it.

And afterward, after he finished coating every crevice and surface of your insides and outsides in his seed and sweat and saliva, Han Jisung helped to clean you up. The two of you lay side by side in his bed for a little bit, soon after he had wiped your skin clean.

No words had been spoken between the two of you then, but you just felt, that nothing had to be said. The deed had been done. You had gotten over the hardest part.

And now... there was no going back.

When you had crept back to the room you were sharing with your boyfriend and laid down beside him just as the clock was about to strike five in the morning, you realized that things were completely ruined.

Nothing would ever be the same again - because no one would ever compare...

To the way Jisung made you feel that night, and how he had made you feel over the past few years, without you even fucking realizing it.

Slowly, as you lay there underneath the covers, hair disheveled and the marks of Jisung's lips littered across your body - your legs and arms and pussy sore from his arduous, heated attention - the tears slipped out of the corners of your eyes unchecked. You stared at the back of Jisoon, your boyfriend, and cried yourself into a listless kind of sleep, void of any dreams or thoughts.

"I'm sorry, babe," you had whispered to his sloped shoulders, just before your eyes had slipped shut in finality in the early morning rays of sunlight for that day. "I'm so fucking sorry..."

Three weeks after they were finished with their Japanese leg of the tour, and back home in Seoul resting before they finished up with their encore concert in America, Jisung paid a visit to the apartment you shared with Jisoon in the heart of Gangnam. Your boyfriend was out for the day, visiting his parents for the rare break that they had in their schedules.

The moment you opened your door and saw him standing there on the step, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. But the two of you didn't have to say anything, because you already knew.

Things had been ruined the moment you stumbled upon him late at night in that hotel, all those weeks ago.

That day, you christened every surface of your apartment with your mixed essence. Every place you could imagine, Jisung fucked you on: the kitchen counter, the living room couch, the dining room table, against the front door, in the shower, on the study room's floor, and perhaps worst of all... in your very own bed. The one you had shared with your boyfriend, who was also Jisung's twin brother, for years.

The sex that day was mind-blowing and cataclysmic, as Jisung led you over the brink of so many orgasms, you lost count after the third one. By the time the two of you were finished and the sun was beginning to set, you were so deep into an odd limbo state of mind that you couldn't even form a coherent thought or sentence.

And like a thief leaving in the middle of the night, like a ghost visiting you for only a time, Jisung just kissed you goodbye, promising he'd come back soon, and left you in your apartment right before your boyfriend came back.

He left you as a pile of messy hair, weak limbs, and a murky mind, sprawled out across your bed, completely naked and littered with bite marks and violet hickies. You managed to throw a nightgown on before your boyfriend came home and saw you that night.

You were so fucking ashamed, but no matter how bad you felt about it all, you couldn't stop yourself. And apparently, Jisung couldn't either. You two were drawn to each other, for whatever reason. And no external factor - even the idea of a long-term boyfriend - was going to stop the trainwreck that you were slowly causing with your secret meetings.

Over time, the periods spent with your boyfriend's twin brother bled together into a fever dream of passion and the greatest sex you had ever experienced in your life. Any chance you could get alone with each other, with your boyfriend nowhere in sight, the two of you were fucking...

In the recording studio, during the rehearsal for a TV appearance, at the hair salon you worked at, in the bathroom during a late-night dinner with their company. And soon, you found yourself falling into a weird kind of rhythm with Han Jisung. Half of the time, you spent it with your boyfriend, Jisoon. And the other half, you spent it with Jisung... fucking and delving into each other in all different ways.

Your time spent with the other brother became so intense and all-consuming that you lost track of how long it had been since everything had started. And that's how you found yourself that specific Friday night, with your boyfriend spending the night at the studio working on a recording. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to him, his twin brother was between your legs.

Jisung had already taken you wholly atop the dining room table earlier that night after you had finished eating the takeout he had brought over. Once you were done chewing your orange chicken and fried rice, the dark-haired man was upon you with a vengeance - ripping off your panties and pushing you atop the wooden table. His fingers had this magic touch to them, and within just a few minutes, with a couple of practiced strokes, he always brought you over the edge in a blinding light of arousal.

After he was finished with you on the table, you two took a shower together and somehow... he ended up inside of you, once again, for the millionth time in a row.

"W-What about Jisoon..." You whined out, head bumping against the tile wall at your back with every hard thrust of Jisung up into you. His cock stretched you out so deliciously, and you ground your hips against his, loving the feel of his hand clamped down on your clit, rubbing at it with a rabid kind of heat. "He... He'll die if he finds out, Ji..."

He flashed you a swarthy, devilish kind of smirk, before he leaned into you, pressing his teeth against your shoulder and biting down on your clavicle. Tongue coming out to press against the purple spot left there, he chuckled lowly. "Oh, just shut up already- I think we're past the point of you giving a fuck about him."

And then you were clutching onto his wet locks even harder, as he drilled his cock so far deep into you, entire galaxies and other worlds flashed across your vision. Gasping out in pure bliss, you moaned out his name breathlessness, your whines getting swallowed up by the sound of the running showerhead above you.

"Yeah, that's right... moan my name, bitch," Jisung coaxed in a deep voice, his thumb drawing figure eights around your puffy clit as his cock fucked the squelching juices back into you. "We both know this - us - is never ending... either you leave that fucker, or he finds me fucking you one of these days and everything turns to shit. Your choice."

You were so fucked out, mind fuzzy with arousal and the pit of your stomach on fire from all of the feeling coursing through your system that you could barely form a coherent sentence. Even still, you managed to crack your eyes open just a tad bit to level Jisung with a serious frown. "N-No... never- don't want to ruin this..." The breath caught in the middle of your throat as the tip of his rigid cock hit that soft spot deep inside of you, making your legs shake around his waist, cunt clenching around his length.

"Then take everything, you slut- be a good little whore and take daddy's cock," Jisung commanded out in a stern tone, pounding into you incessantly and making your ass bounce back and forth against the shower wall. "Open wider for me, baby doll- wanna see this pretty pussy of yours bulging with my cock."

As always, you did what he commanded of you. Spreading your legs wider and hugging them a little closer around his hips, your head shot back against the tile of the shower wall when you felt Jisung's cock prodding into you.

He pushed down on your lower belly, feeling the way his thick cock rubbed up into you so far, he bulged out against the seams and the outline of him displayed deep inside of you. "Oh fuck- such a cute pussy... fits me so fucking well..." Jisung said in a low voice, as he rubbed a little harder against your clit with his thumb. Meanwhile, his dick was reaching all new lengths inside of you, drawing out a flurry of moans from between your lips. "J-Just a little longer... just hold on a little more, 'kay kitten?"

And in the end, you heeded his commands. All of them. You did everything he wanted, because truthfully- you couldn't help yourself. Couldn't deny him, no matter what.

Fin.

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ladytauria · 3 months

Note

Hear me out: 92 and jaycest for the smut prompts

i heard you loud and clear nonny 😌

this... ended up being a monster of a fic (almost 6k) so i'm not posting the entirety of it here, lmao.

my original plan for this was to be a coda to cloves, smoke, and honey, but every time i sat down to write nothing came to me. so finally i started listing jay pairings while looking up selfcest prompts and—then something clicked and i ended up with this <3

in which hood!jay ends up in a universe where his alternate never died <3

i had a really good time with this one! i hope you enjoy <3

(note: i was picturing jay at about ~17 in this, and jason at least 22. however, no ages are stated; just that jay is going to college soon <3)

>> AO3 <<

Hood plants his hands on the desk, leaning against it, looking up at the monitors. Batman and Nightwing are still out. Spoiler and Robin’s curfews got called an hour ago. (Tim’s probably still sulking about it, but whatever. School’s important, no matter what the brat thinks.) Alfred retired when they did.

That leaves just Hood and Jay.

Hood… He showed up just shy of a month ago. Some asshole’s running around, opening portals to other dimensions, and Hood got caught in the crossfire. Stranded, until they can catch the guy.

He won’t show them his face. Won’t even walk around in just a domino! Instead, he’s always wearing that obnoxious red helmet.

It’s driving B crazy.

Even Tim, stalker extraordinaire, hasn’t been able to figure out Hood’s identity.

Or. If he has, the little gremlin isn’t sharing. Jason highly doubts he’d hide it, though. B and Dick are too wound up about it.

Jay… He can’t blame them. Hood’s scarily well-trained. Bruce tried putting him on lock down once and he just breezed right past the defenses as soon as they left. That’s when Dick had suggested they work together—mostly to keep an eye on Hood, which they all know Hood is aware of.

Jay’s pretty sure Dick meant to take the job. Hood and B… well, the way his hackles raise if Batman so much as glances in his direction… That’s a powder keg waiting to blow. Thing is, while Hood will tolerate Nightwing—mostly—the one he trusts the most is…

Jay.

It’s flattering.

And it’s kind of nice to be the one in charge of keeping an eye on Hood.

Jay is still a recent graduate of his Robin role, and it’s a struggle to be taken seriously as his own hero. He’s… looking forward to college, honestly. To either put vigilantism on the back burner or just set up somewhere new—he hasn’t decided yet. It’ll be nice, to leave and come back changed.

Anyway, but actually being trusted to run with Hood at night makes him feel… More like a part of the team. He knows Bruce will never trust him as much as he does Dick—and he’d like to say he’s made his peace with that, but he hasn’t—but at least he trusts him with something.

Jay just wishes he wasn’t so distracted. Even now, Jay’s not paying as much attention to what’s on the monitors so much as he is the way Hood’s tac pants pull taut over his ass and thighs. Which—fuck, those thighs. Firm and muscular and thick.

He choked a guy out with them earlier tonight. Jay’s blood had rushed south so fast he’d thought he was gonna pass out. It’d taken every trick he knew to will his erection down so he could keep working.

The arousal still sings in his blood—a quiet tune, but present all the same. Jay wets his lips, and then walks over to him. “That was some nice fightin’ tonight, Hood,” he says casually, drawing closer to Hood. “Bet you’re tired. I wouldn’t mind givin’ ya a hand.” He trails his fingers over Hood’s forearm—doubts he feels it much, with his armor and jacket still in the way. “You could take a nice, hot shower, and then… I could give ya a massage. Work out some of that tension you’ve been carryin’.”

Hood is still. Jay’s not sure he’s breathing. “Kid,” he says—and then stops, hands flexing on the table. Jay waits for him to gather himself, or shake his head and tell him to get lost.

It’s not the first time he’s flirted with Hood. It was a joke at first. Hood was attractive, Jay recognized that from the start, but… Well. Jay had discovered a few years ago that flirting was a good way to throw people off of their game. (It also invited trouble, of course. The silent ‘I-told-you-so’ from Bruce after Mask started showing actual interest in him had been deafening. But mostly, it served Jason well, so he kept going it.) He hadn’t meant anything by it at first.

He does now.

Has since Hood shoved him up against a wall, bracketing him in with his body, one gloved hand pressed against his mouth. He’d hardly noticed the people passing them; senses too full of leather and steel and gunpowder. His cock had strained in his cup, a thousand times more uncomfortable than the brick at his back.

His attempts since have been utterly sincere.

Hood has never told him off. A few times, he’s even flirted back… before obviously stopping himself.

Jay persists.

“You don’t want this,” Hood says finally, turning his head to meet Jay’s eyes. The whites of his helmet are blank. They give nothing away. Neither does his voice, not with the modulator in the way. Even his body language is inscrutable.

“You don’t get to tell me that,” Jay tells him, his voice breathier than he means it to be. Anticipation thrums in his veins.

Hood lets go of the desk, standing up to his full height. Jay— Jay will be lucky to hit 5’7. More than likely, he’s going to be stuck at 5’5 for the rest of his life. Hood… Hood is taller than Bruce, beating him out by a single inch. Jay has to tip his head back to keep holding Hood’s gaze.

“You have… no idea who you’re talking to,” Hood says, and the modulator adds to the harshness of his tone.

Rather than turn Jay off, it makes him shiver before defiantly lifting his chin.

“Oh, fuck off. You wanna tell me you’re not interested? Fine, that’s fair. I’ll back off. You wanna tell me to stop? Fine. That’s fair. I stop. But you don’t get to tell me that I don’t want this. That I don’t want you.”

Jay steps closer. He already stripped out of his armor, leaving him in nothing but a form-fitting t-shirt and tight leggings. He ditched his cup, too, which means when he grinds his hips forward, there’s nothing to prevent Hood from feeling his erection as he plasters himself against Hood’s side, stretching onto his tip-toes. His lips brush where Hood’s ear would be, if not for the helmet.

“Let me show you how much I mean what I say,” he whispers.

Hood goes still again—but it’s the same kind of stillness that falls just before a storm. Jay holds his breath.

It’s knocked from him when Hood grabs him, broad hands gripping his waist and lifting him onto the desk—his ass just barely missing the keyboard.

Then, he reaches up; a low, mechanical hiss sending Jay’s heart into his throat. Hood tosses the helmet aside—Jay hears it hit the ground, roll, but he doesn’t bother to look where it lands. Instead, he watches Hood rip his domino off next, tossing that aside too, and then, finally—

Jay sees him.

He drinks him in ravenously. The scar, starring at his mouth and trailing up, up, to his temple, where it disappears into his hairline. His hair is dark, curly, wild and askew the same way Jay’s is after a patrol. There’s a shock of white in the front, where his bangs curl on his forehead, forming a heart shape.

Huh.

Jason’s do that too.

Their noses are similar, too; a little crooked, with a raised bump in the middle. They’ve both got full mouths, settled into a natural pout. A small scattering of freckles over their noses, including a darker one under the left eye.

A scar, mostly faded, over a brow.

Jay’s eyes go wide. “You’re—” Me, he doesn’t finish, the word sticking in his throat.

How many times had he tried to guess which of them Hood could be, if any of them at all? Himself had never crossed his mind, not once.

Hood… He wielded guns with brutal efficiency. None of Bruce’s security measures could contain him. When Nightwing challenged him to a spar, they’d been so close to evenly matched. He had the height, the bulk to match Bruce, and—

He was just…

Hood was dangerous, and lethal, and confident, and skilled, and big, and—

So very unlike Jay at all.

Yet… There he is. He has a few more scars, and his jaw is more defined, but— They have the same full cheeks, the ones that give him perpetual babyface. Especially with his long, dark lashes and full, pink lips.

Jay… is starting to see why people call him pretty.

“I told you,” Hood—Jason says harshly. It’s Jay’s first time hearing it without the modulator. His voice is low, gravelly. It makes his skin pebble.

Hood being Jason doesn’t make him want him less at all. He’s still the same ultra-competent badass that he was before, and—

Jay would like to get his hands on him right now, pretty please.

Jason doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. Insecurity still runs deep, Jay guesses.

“Go on. It’s past time little birdies went back to their nests.”

Jay fists both hands in the collar of his jacket before Jason can take more than a single step. “Shut up,” he snaps—and then yanks him down into a fierce, hungry kiss.

Jason gasps into his mouth.

For one heart-stopping second, Jay thinks he’s going to be shoved away. Thinks Jason will look at him with disgust, humiliate him for even considering that Jason might want anything to do with him.

Jason doesn’t.

Instead, he steps forward, forcing Jay to tip his head back. There’s the rustle of fabric, and then—a hand, no longer gloved, tangles in his hair, pulling just-so in a way that makes Jay gasp, shiver, hips rocking forward, grinding his dick against the molded abs of Jason’s armor.

His moan is embarrassing, high enough that the bats rustle restlessly above them.

Jason presses the advantage, plunging his tongue in Jay’s mouth. It tastes of peppermint and cigarettes as Jason licks into him slow and deep, delving into every nook and crevice of Jay’s mouth.

Jay shudders; legs locking around Jason’s waist.

When Jason pulls away… Jay whines, trying to chase him. It’s the hand in his hair that stills him; fingers tightening, holding him in place.

“Please,” he begs.

Jason’s nostrils flare. Then… his gaze flickers around them, evaluating their surroundings.

“Not here,” he says finally.

Jay whimpers, embarrassingly high, when Jason lifts him; hands braced under his thighs, the curve of his ass.

And Jay— he may not be very tall, but he’s solid; all muscle and pockets of fat, a body honed through years of training.

Jason holds him like he weighs nothing at all.

Even when they climb the stairs, Jason taking them two-by-two, he doesn’t falter. Barely breathes any heavier, even when Jay gives into the urge to start sucking marks onto his neck.

He knows he’s affected. He can feel his pulse, hear the soft hitches in his breathing, but—

His steps never waver.

>> continue on ao3 <<

#jayjay #jason todd #jaycest #red hood #dcu #tauriawritesfanfic #tauriawritessmut #i gave this a read over but i've also been up for over 24 hours (not bc of the fic) so i. may have missed some things #feel free to point typos out to me xD #lovely anons #asks and answers #also i love this one a lot so im probs gonna be obnoxious about reblogging it <3

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riisume · 7 months

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Not So Tough (Original Characters)

Summary: Elliot McCarthy and Nox LeBlanc don't get along and were put on cleaning duty together and things take a turn.

A/N: I'm trying to draw less because my drive for it is low. But I have given myself permission to write til my heart's content as a creative outlet! So I decided to write a tk story with my ocs Elliot and Nox. I started it several months ago and finished it up today... '-' Decided to post it cuz I feel like this is the best thing I've written ever.

This is a tickle fic! If this isn’t your cup of tea, turn back now. :^) There is also swearing if you don't like that? Idk!

Word count: 2139

Elliot disliked a lot of things.The list of things he disliked had exponentially increased during the time he was spending with The Resistance; The uncomfortable, pitiful excuse for furnishing in their underground quarters, the damp and musty smell that wafted through the halls, the people. The list went on. Charlie had promised that her group would be willing to help “he and his sibling return to their appropriate continuity”, but there was a whole lot of that not happening. Elliot was growing impatient. Especially because instead of being provided a way back home, the two would be put on duty for trivial tasks, which he hated the most.

One of today’s trivial tasks involved helping one of Elliot’s least favourite people in The Resistance tidy some of the rooms; Nox Leblanc. She was bossy, dramatic, and arrogant. A conglomerate of things that the young man found insufferable in a person. He hated working with her. Nox would always act like she was above him and scrutinize every little thing he messed up on or fumbled with and today was no exception.

Elliot was folding blankets while Nox was sweeping the wooden floor that was riddled with dust bunnies. Elliot wasn’t the best at folding blankets, not that he’d admit as much. At home, he’d resort to laying his blanket out over his mattress to avoid the having a quilt pathetically rolled up at the end of his bed. It wouldn’t be long before Nox would take notice of the clumsily folded up covers.

Feeling eyes boring into the back of his head, the blond sighed, already aggravated. Peering over his shoulder, he spotted the brunette woman with that same scrutinizing look, glaring at him as her green eyes flitted from him to the messy quilts. He couldn’t help but speak up.

“Look, if you’re gonna chew me out about how I should be doing something better or about how I’m fucking shit up, just do it already.” Elliot huffed. Nox’s eyes widened for a moment before they narrowed. Gripping the broom in her dainty hands, she stepped up to Elliot, almost challengingly.

“Well, since you asked, I should start by telling you you’re doin’ a piss poor job of folding the blankets.” She started, her tone as hoity toity as usual. “Honestly, Mommy and Daddy did a shit job teaching you such a basic skill.” A look of disdain crossed Elliot’s features. His parents were a touchy subject for him and June by extension. A quip burned on the tip of his tongue. It was a burning that he couldn’t ignore. Throwing down the blanket he was attempting to fold, he glowered at Nox, his hazel eyes meeting hers with an equally challenging look. When she didn’t so much as flinch at his glare, Elliot felt his resolve buckle.

“A-and Mommy and Daddy did just as much of a shit job of teaching you basic manners, huh?” Elliot’s voice shook, his stutter betraying him once again. He prayed. Begged to whatever cosmic or heavenly deity of this world that was listening to not let Nox catch that stammer… The corners of her lips quirked into a smug, amused smile. The gods weren’t listening… The woman couldn’t help but laugh into the back of her hand and the young man felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Oh, Elliot, sweetie. We all already know you’re not as tough as you make yourself out to be.” Nox idly toyed with her hair. He wasn’t entirely sure, but Elliot swore the cocky smirk plastered on her features widened once she noted his visible discomfort. Begrudgingly, the thin blond adjusted the beanie hat on his head before going to pick up the crumpled quilt he threw down.

“Whatever. I don’t even know what you’re talking about...” Muttering and turning his back on the other, Elliot shook off the clumps of dust that wasted no time clinging to the thick sheet during it’s time on the floor.

The taller woman seemed pleased that the bratty boy backed down without much of an issue. She had deduced a while ago that he wasn’t as confident as he seemed after observing him some, pushing buttons here and there, and challenging him at times. It was types like these that were usually trying to compensate for an insecurity or put up a defensive wall. After all, Nox would know how those types worked all too well from personal experience. Though, unlike Elliot, she had perfected her confidence. Solidified her defenses. Not much could penetrate them, much less someone with a weak will like her current cleaning partner.

Nox decided to keep pushing. She was having fun with him.

“You don’t?” The woman canted her head in mock confusion as she crept towards Elliot, dropping the broom she was holding to the floor. “Hm… That’s funny. I recall hearing that The Resistance’s favourite otherworldly, tough brat could be brought to his knees by the lightest of touches…” At that, she reached out, briskly walking her thin fingers along Elliot’s spine.

The reaction she received was far more entertaining than she ever could’ve hoped for; Elliot practically leapt out of his skin, a high-pitched shriek resonated from him that echoed down the halls of the base. He arched away so sharply that Nox was almost convinced that his thin frame would’ve snapped in half, before he waved his arms behind him in a frantic attempt to shoo the woman away. That poor blanket was on the floor again.

“Agh! D-d-don’t do that!!” Elliot whipped around, immediately shielding himself with his arms. A look of amusement and intrigue made itself apparent on the green-eyed girl’s features as she stroked her chin.

“Aaaah, so the legends were true.” A mischievous glint in Nox’s eyes made a chill run up Elliot’s spine. “The younger McCarthy is suuuper ticklish..!”

Elliot hated that word; ‘Ticklish’ and all of it’s other iterations. It always embarrassed him because he knew he was hellishly so… Not that he’d ever admit it of course. He hated that he couldn’t stop his face from turning a deep shade of red whenever someone asked him if he was ticklish. He hated the way he would be helpless when they inevitably tested the waters. He especially hated the way people would tease him about the noises he’d make while he was trying to fight the urge to succumb to the mirth.

Elliot knew that people enjoyed poking fun at him because of the way he overreacted. He had been told so many times, but it was unavoidable when he got flustered. It was something so engrained in him that he couldn’t fight it no matter how hard he tried.

“Sh-shut the fuck up! You just… You just caught me by surprise, okay!?” Elliot huffed indignantly.

“I did? Oh, so you totally won’t react if I just… Tickled you again?” Nox flexed and wiggled her fingers as she began to close in on Elliot. He felt his heart begin to race as he backed away. He didn’t want to be subjected to this humiliation! Should he run? Where would he even go? Someone was bound to ask why he was running down the halls in a panic, then what? Elliot couldn’t just go whining about how Nox was threatening to tickle him, that would be mortifying! He’d rather die! Maybe a retaliation was in order? … No. Elliot was terrified of tickling others, even in self-defense. He knew that would just invoke their wrath further and he’d suffer tenfold.

The most the distressed blond could think to do was attempt and reason with his assailant… Not that he thought she would listen, but he was desperate.

“W-wait, c’mon-! We’re… We’re supposed to clean up and- MNGH-!!” Reasoning proved to be just as unhelpful as he expected when Nox’s fingers began to prod and wedge themselves into the soft divots of his ribs. His arms couldn’t protect him completely. “N-noHOHO! NGH- BIHIHITCH! A-AH!”

Elliot’s eyes were squeezed shut and he could only imagine how wide Nox’s devious smirk was as he swore in between frantic laughter and yelps. Her fingertips pressed into the tender areas of his sides, causing him to buck wildly and twist away from her tickling digits… There wasn’t much else he could do when his back hit the wall, rendering him unable to back away further.

“N-Nox! SHIHIHIT-! Nohohooox! AH-! Quihihit it! QUIT IHIHIT!”

“Hmm…” As she continued to torment the other with simple poking and prodding to the exposed areas of his midriff, Nox hummed in mock thought. “And what if I don’t want to? This is entirely more entertaining than sweeping and folding blankets, wouldn’t you agree?” At the mercy of Nox and his own mirth, Elliot couldn’t do much but shake his head wildly in disagreement. As much as he struggled to stifle and choke back his own squeals and guffaws, they still managed to spill past his lips. Once he started laughing, it was nearly impossible to get him to stop until the person tickling him decided they were finished.

“While it might be more entertaining, there’s a job that needs to be done that you two were put in charge of and there sure is a whole lot of that not getting done.” A familiar calm, baritone voice sounded from the doorway. Nox froze, pulling her hands away from Elliot. The two’s attention snapped to where the voice was resonating from.

She was so lost in her amusement towards the boy that she wasn’t aware of her superior, the right hand and body guard of the leader of The Resistance, leaning on the doorframe, quietly observing the subordinates with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow. His large, built arms were crossed in disapproval.

“B-Bernard!” Nox felt her cheeks grow warm. It was known far and wide throughout The Resistance that she had an untamed lust for the man before them. Her normally bossy disposition and superiority complex would shatter whenever he was around, rendering her desperate and vulnerable. Whether Bernard himself was aware of that was a different story. His dark eyes held the disapproving gaze. “I was… I just- Elliot, he was being uncooperative, and I-” At the sound of his own name, Elliot shot a glare at the woman trying to pin the whole debacle on him.

“M-me!?” Trying to regain his composure, Elliot straightened up, patting down the wrinkles on h is sweater. “You were the one who’s fucking bossing me around like always and-”

“Enough.” Bernard didn’t have to yell more times than not. This was one of those instances. Between Nox’s devotion, desire, and respect towards the dark-haired man and his intimidating aura having a solid grasp on Elliot, the duo shut up right away, their gazes meeting the floor. He continued to speak, his voice was leveled and cold. “Frankly, I don’t care what the two of you do while you’re off duty. Have all the tickle fights you want or bicker until your heart’s content then. Not when you have a job you need to get done. Understood?”

“Yes, sir…” Nox acknowledged him quietly.

“Y… Yeah.” Elliot followed up, shifting awkwardly. The larger man’s posture relaxed once the two seemed more cooperative, his arms falling to his sides. Though, the stern look hardly wavered from his features.

“Good. Both of you get back to work, make sure this room is spotless in a couple of hours.” Bernard turned to leave the room with a light and aggravated sigh.

The room was quiet and still until Bernard’s footsteps that echoed down the hall were no longer audible. Nox approached the doorway, peeking out for good measure; He was gone. She looked back at Elliot who was silently picking up the quilt he was fussing with earlier, patting the flecks of dust off it. With a sigh, she returned to Elliot, lightly tapping her fingers on his shoulder to get his attention. He flinched, whipping around to shoot a glare her way.

“Whoa, whoa! Easy-” Nox pulled away. “I was just going to… Offer to help you fold the quilts.”

“Help…?” Elliot echoed in disbelief, suspicion weighing heavily on his brow.

“Y-yeah, just… To get it done faster so Bernard doesn’t get upset at me because I have you holding me back!” She huffed, a hue of pink dusting her cheeks. “Here, I’ll teach you how to fold the quilts. It’s easier with two people.” The boy seemed to relax after a moment when Nox offered her hand.

“Uh-huh…” Elliot knew her change of tune was because of Bernard, though part of him wondered if she was musing over her earlier comment towards him about folding. “Er, thanks, I guess…” He gave her the one end of the blanket.

“Don’t mention it, Tough Guy. Now, just follow my lead…”

#my fics #my ocs #lee!Elliot #ler!Nox #elliot mccarthy #nox leblanc #tickle fic #tickling #tickle community #tickle #oc tickle #oc tickles #oc tickling #tickling community

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sipsteainanxiety · 9 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

i was tagged by @coopigeoncoo @andypantsx3 @willowser and @namodawrites to do this lil self fic rec game and after finally sitting down to think about it for a very... long... time... i have done it! thank you all for the tag i kiss you each on the forehead and give you a bowl of sliced fruit<3

after looking at all the wips i have in docs right now, i can definitely say that this list would be completely different if i had finished a few of them, but for now this is my ranked list for things i've published already lol

devil's glare — demon!bkg x reader

bakugou katsuki is a powerful demon that you have the pleasure of dating. but when he pisses you off one day, you decide to get back at him in a pretty petty way: drawing a salt circle around you to force him to apologize

i had THEE most fun writing this one shot LMAO. it was based on a tiktok of all things that i'd found back when i was still on the app pfft. i just loved the idea of bkg being all surly and aggravated that his little human had purposely drawn a salt circle to prevent him from encroaching on their space. and like... him dealing with wanting to idk kiss you so bad but you're trying to teach him a lesson and he's sooooo mad and fuck, he's gonna do whatever he can to get you to comply to him lmao. if i could draw, there's this one scene where you're wearing this like. cute little set of pjs staring up at this big ass demon, wings unfurled threateningly, snarl on his face, arms crossed with a line of salt in between the two of you. like i have a vision. too bad i can't draw it LMFAOO. maybe one day

2. holding out (just for you) — dragon!bkg x reader

in which you find a horrendously injured dragon in a cave and make it your duty to heal him, not knowing that he’s the infamous dragonshifter, bakugo katsuki, who has been cursed to remain trapped in his dragon form forever—unless the spell is broken

this fic... oh boy. i've been working on this fic since mmm 2021 i think? i can't believe it's been a year since the big bang LMFAOO. i also can't blv this shit evolved from being a standalone to having 3 spinoffs and a sequel but well. here we are. complaints aside i really do have fun writing this fic!! i dunno!! i dont think i'd ever read a dragon bkg fic before and i was like fine i'll do it myself and this happened. i added way too much plot and you guys don't even know about half the worldbuilding and shit i have planned for the sequel HAHA. i can't even talk about it bc it would be major spoilers rn rhrsfjhrjfrjrhjg. it's also been giving me such a rough time lately pfft, especially with having to make sure everything lines up for the spinoffs n stuff. im so afraid of publishing ch4 and having to go back and tweak things bc i havent planned out far enough sdkjfsjkdf. i think it just means i'm gonna have to go on a hiatus or smthn and write out all the spinoffs + ch4 at once idk

3. and i give my all (to you) — merman!bkg x reader

you think you bit off more than you could chew when you decided to do your dissertation on ocean acidification, leaving you stranded out in the open ocean. alone. for months. well… maybe you weren’t so alone after all

this is another fic that i've been working on way longer than it's been posted for pfft. i can't blv the first chapter was released over a year ago LMAOOO i am so sorry. i do like this fic tho bc it's one of the easier ones to write and i go back to it sometimes between writing for dragon bkg lol. like i have the chapters all mapped out, all i have to do is sit down and write em. ch2's at abt 3k rn tho and i hit a spot where i'm like oof i dont wanna write these descriptions dfhdkfg it's just a silly goofy story with merbaku and dealing with some of the subtle intricacies of getting to know a mermaid. actually, fun fact, this originally started off as a fic for jotaro from jjba, back when i was in my jjba era. but then i went back to my bkg era and switched it over. i didn't even have to change much LMFAOO jotaro and bkg act the same sometimes. also!! this is the first fic where i'm like... drawing little doodles for each chapter!! and it's so nice but also i'm like damn wtf do i draw for the rest of these chapters.... i'll figure it out ig

4. loving all the parts of you — pro hero!bkg x reader

in which you learn to love all the prickly parts that make up bakugou katsuki

i.. don't think i've thought about this fic for a very, very long time. but i just scrolled thru the masterlist and stuff and i... really liked writing it (when i was focused on it anyways). it's one of my gentler fics tbh. it's more of a character study of bkg, exploring a different aspect of him in each chapter. tbh i need to go through and reread it and make edits so it can better match the writing style i have now, but i rly liked thinking abt what would make bkg tick as a pro and as a person. and tbh, with what i know now of the manga and anime i think i could go very deep with it pfft. also the banner i made for this fic is so cute LOL. it's not high on my priority list rn bc i have other things i wanna work on, but i do hope to return to it one day.

5. forget me not — pro hero!bkg x reader

When you first woke up, you found yourself in a white room, lights blinding you from all directions. A bit disoriented, you squinted and looked around, realizing you were chained to a chair, your arms locked behind you. In front of you was a poster of a man, muscles rippling throughout his body, a spiky mess of ash blond hair nestled on his head, and striking crimson eyes glaring right at you from behind a black mask. In the upper right corner was the name “DYNAMIGHT” in black and orange letters. As you observed the poster, the sound of a P.A. system suddenly rang into existence, the deep, hoarse voice of an unknown person echoing around you. “Your name is [Name] [Surname],” the voice said without emotion, “and you hate the man named Bakugou Katsuki.”

THIS FIC... THIS FCKIN FIC. i have so much i can say about this fic and i am so sorry for the oncoming ramble pfft. firstly, it's both my baby and my number one fucking enemy. like, holy shit i think it gave me the most paralyzing anxiety and bc of this it took me like 3-4 years to finish (apart from being generally busy of course). i started it literally while i was in high school n applying to college, so of course there are aspects of it that i look at now and i'm like mmm don't like that. not to mention there have been so many things that happened in the anime/manga that i wasn't able to add or delve deeper into!! like the war!! bkg's fcking trauma!! midoriya's quirks!! i was an anime only when i first started releasing chapters (and i still am), so i didnt know about the endeavor agency arc or anything so i defaulted to shit with best jeanist and idkidk.

if i could rewrite all of fmn, i think i would. or maybe not all, but a good chunk of it. like i'd condense the first few chapters probably. i also have a different grasp of bkg's characterization now compared to when i was younger lmao. putting bkg in that specific circumstance (iykyk, i wont spoil it) only happened bc of certain outside factors that forced him into that position. which was how i was able to justify it. but... idk. IDK!! this fic had so many things to it that i was not knowledgeable about so i winged a lot of things without doing proper research (i.e. hospitals, police investigations, general bureaucracy and whatnot) and i feel like this has caused certain plot holes that i am not able to detect, but like.... it's been so long already that i'm too lazy to fix it.

i just really wanted to write about having amnesia but... still having this muscle memory and ache of the person you were in love with. that you can fall in love with them all over again. but, jeez, i put the reader through so much that there's so much... trauma and brainwashing and just rhhrhjrkhrhgrkjg. she's a mess and a half!! and this makes it so difficult to read fmn bc she's so frustrating!! but! at the same time idk it was interesting exploring that kind of ptsd and recovery. i think at my core i love writing about truly heartwrenching topics and horror. i rmb i had the most fun writing about reader's nightmares or that one chapter where she was messing around with illusions. actually- one of the things i would change is the reader's fckin quirk and hero name LMAOOOOO what the fuck i made her so op i basically just smashed together dr strange's and wanda's powers for her pfft. i'd also tweak her personality a little, i think.

i digress. anyways. im in the process of editing all of fmn (just like. writing tweaks. changing the phrasing of certain sentences. adding more fluff to descriptions) and i can really see how much my style has evolved lol. like, i am the most happy and proud of the later chapters, where you can really feel certain emotions with bkg and reader. like... the beach scene, or the stakeout scene, or the party scene!! i think i would also add more substance to the investigation and how being a hero is like post-war. the antagonists as well!! there's just so much that could've been built on, but at the same time... i didn't want to go too deep into it bc i was writing an amnesia recovery story.

flaming aside, i am very glad i was able to pull those plot twists successfully LOL. i loved reading people's theories back when i was still updating it, seeing them question things and being like wait a minute... no way... it can't be... it was an era i will never forget pfft. but... because of that expectation i think i was very nervous to reveal specific things or even write the ending bc i didn't know if people would be satisfied lol. fmn was so complicated and for what sdfkjhs. fanfic shouldnt make you this anxious fr and yet there i was. i'm glad im done with it, but at the same time.. i do miss it.

tldr: fmn is the fic that i am the most proud of but also the most insecure LMFAOO. i do eventually want to get to the extra chapters from bkg's pov for it but... idk. i don't wanna even look at it right now sdhfskdfjsf

thank u all for coming to my ted talk B) i'm sorry if u've been tagged alr in this but here we go anyways!! no pressure tags: @earthtooz @call-me-ko @thecatduet422 @boo-kugo @theloveinc <3

#jeez that fmn ramble rly is long but it is what it is #i could go on even more about it ngl #but i wont sdkhksdf #gamer girling w shay

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bardic-inspo · 4 months

Note

Okay so I also happen to know nothing about BG3, other than what several characters look like and sorta...general D&D knowledge? if that counts?

but "Blood in the Mortar" sounds veeeerrrryyyy interesting 😗

@krokaxe Thank you both! <3 <3 I think general D&D knowledge definitely counts!!

[Ask me about a fic on my WIP List]

This fic features an Vampire Ascendant Astarion (a powered up vampire lord is the short of it) with a vampire bride Tav. The Tav I'm using (Naomi, a bard) is the same main OC from my multichapter with her and Astarion, Midnight Chimes, but this fic is very much a standalone and a sort of "what if they both ended up evil" AU occurring post-game. It's just a smutty one-shot for now, but I might end up writing more of their "evil" versions at some point if I have enough fun with it.

There's a lot of different interpretations of Ascended Astarion out there, but some concepts I'm playing with in Blood in the Mortar are:

Tav has been made into his bride and not just his spawn. This is a concept a lot of folks have played with and is based heavily off this excerpt from what I think is an old monster manual talking about vampire bride/groom rituals.

In the rendition of this I'm playing with, a bride and a spawn is really similar. Astarion could compel Tav if he wanted to. But, they have a really intense/intimate mental/telepathic link and he's gonna take a buttload of psychic damage if he did anything to hurt or really upset her.

It also works as a sort of perpetual feedback loop. They feel each other's happiness and affection for the other as if it was their own (and other, less pleasant feelings, too). Who the emotion originally started with starts to get a little blurry. Their individual wellbeing is really tied up in the other's happiness. It's intense and probably toxic but for the most part, they're both happy about it. (As Wyll comments in-game, they are the "unholiest union")

I wanted to toy with the protective/possessive streak in Ascended Astarion, but also, some text I saw in an epilogue that I think was ultimately unused in the game. Something about him hosting grand masquerades at his palace while Tav bolts the doors behind the party guests.

So, some uppity nobleman (or maybe another true vampire, I haven't decided yet) starts talking shit about Tav at one of Astarion's masquerades. It's clearly an effort to get a rise out of him, or to poke at what this nobleman perceives as Astarion's only weakness (Tav). But instead of getting the desired result, Astarion takes the "have you met my wife?" angle:

“Do you know what they call her? Other than mine, of course?” “The hero of Baldur’s Gate." Astarion waves a manicured hand irritably, as if swatting away a stray fly. “One of them, true, but isn’t there another name that comes to mind?” The man swallows thickly. “The Siren of the Sword Coast.” "And yet here you are," Astarion sneers with a curled lip, "ready to dash yourself upon the rocks like a little wayward ship blown astray. I can hardly blame you." His eyes soften, just past the shoulder of the lordling's gaudy doublet. In the low flutter of candlelight, he spies the sheen of sapphires set amongst delicate feathers wrought from silver. He'd had the mask made for her, with the likeness of a swan in mind. Still, as pretty as it is, his favorite gleam is those eyes, set between the glittering finery. She still kept the kiss of violet in them, even in death. It mingles with the red in her irises, like a rich, deep wine. "She is captivating, isn’t she?," Astarion sighs, a faint smile grazing his lips. "My beautiful bride." At long last, it seems, lord what's-his-name has found the decency to shut up. Astarion draws a long draught from his goblet, drawing a dark glare over the sheen of sweat that's started on the other man's brow. “You see," Astarion drawls, as the vintage seeps sweetly down his throat, "my beloved, oh, she’s a monster too. She so does love the taste of blood in her mouth, now that she’s supped of mine.”

And then they do murder and steamy (if wildly impractical) sex together. I think there's a grand piano involved. 👀

#thank you!! <3 #ascended astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #vampire lord astarion #wip: blood in the mortar #naomi tavriel #bg3

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still-a-morosexual-help · 1 year

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@🌹anon asked about my ocs sometime back and as I was answering it rn I accidentally deleted the entire thing😭😭😭😭😭

I'm gonna try and write whatever I remember again✌️:

Yes I did it again (shut up);

I'm such a fucking idiot, I found the "deleted ask" hidden deep in my drafts - apparently it went there when I lost my internet connection but instead of getting saved at the top of my drafts it got saved on the day anon first sent me the ask so somewhere in the middle between other drafts??? Anyway:

!!!You asked for it!!

They were all created for some game or another (characters I'll be able to toss away once I'm done playing the games) But I ended up falling in love with all of them🤡

I can't draw people for shit & I don't wanna describe appearances so I'm gonna use picrews (with links added for anyone who wants to use 'em too)

Starting from first created to last & answering it like I'm making them character profiles for a dating sim (but leaving out the three from Choices 'cause I don't know if they can be considered proper ocs rather than just characters the game handed us? Also leaving out the others from fictif because they're not as well developed)

1. "Lex" Alexandra Lane

(Lex after Lex Luthor and Lane after Lois Lane because I think I'm funny)

[1] , [2]

Origin: Love Island the Game S2

25 at beginning now 26 years (Birthday: November 16th)

5'5"

She/Her

Bisexual

Professional Cellist

English/British because the game didn't give me a choice

Married at 26 (because the game gives you no option), will definitely have a couple kids at some point

No gross out factor - probably ate bugs as a kid. Probably will still eat a bug off the ground if dared to. Biggest point of pride is that she can do a backflip in heels. Loves fashion/beautiful clothes that are usually stupidly expensive. Biting her lip and making bedroom eyes at every single person but really just wants to fall in love and settle down. Hates confrontation/any sort of fight but also really wants to know everything about everyone's business. Good at being the mediator. Always the big spoon. Actually pretty buff - can absolutely bench you.

2. Eliza Ramskin

(Eliza after the official name of the porcelain apple doll sitting in a box on my cupboard but then I decided I didn't want it to stand for Elizabeth so now it stands for "A Lizard" after the rubber gecko pasted on my bedroom wall. Ramskin: a bad pun because of the game)

[1] , [2] (yes the little frog is supposed to be me)

Origin: Obey Me!

23 at beginning now 26 years (Birthday: April 21st)

5'10"

They/Them

Queer

Wildlife Photographer

Has chronic pain

Has a scar over one eyebrow - will smugly tell you a cool story for it. In reality dropped a jar of peanut butter on their face. + top surgery scars

-> Essentially just om! gen MC with a background and name. Have you read my post about gen MC's canon facts? Have you read any of my gen MC theory posts, where I take individual canon facts & connect them to see what happens? Have you read any of my obey me! fics? Can you remember what general MC was like in them? Then you know exactly what Eliza is like. But still, here are some of my favourite parts:

Ambiguously human. Would fight God at 2am in a Denny's parking lot and WIN. They're very lowkey an asshole but underneath that they're kinda nice but underneath that they're a bigger asshole but underneath that they're even nicer and so on and so forth. Surprisingly down for murder. 0 self preservation + 0 shame + 0 fear + max drive & determination + max stubborness + max can do attitude + unconsciously charming + actually pretty strong + danger kink + horny = the world's greatest monster fucker.

3. Len

(Len's short for Lenora which she no longer goes by but irl named after my Lenova laptop, No surname.)

[1] , [2]

Origin: The Arcana

31 years (Birthday: June 7th)

5'11"

She/They

Bisexual

Same occupation as the game's MC

The only one who has a defined body shape in my mind and that body shape is plank of wood

Pitch black eyes that reflects no light. Vague cryptid energy. Stoic, cold yet thin polite smile that seems very surface level. Posture's so good just looking at her makes your back hurt. Warms up once you get to know her; is caring and gentle and understanding and soothing but also stuborn and tough/harsh/strict. Responsible but also has no problem breaking the law if needed. Dreams of travelling the world. Gives off black cat energy but is a dog person. Sadistic in both the sexy and unsexy way. Bad puns. So much untapped potential to be a super villain. I think I accidentally just created a female version of om!'s Lucifer...

4. Vale Knight

(Vale after welcome to night vale which I hadn't watched at the time, Knight from the same place but it's also a pun because of what happens to them in the game)

[1] , [2]

Origin: Last Legacy

28 years (July 10th)

6'0"

They/Them

Queer Polyamorous

Same occupation as the game's MC

Not only are they a weeb they're an ASSHOLE. The kind of person to get stabbed because their first instinct was to mock the mugger. Decided to dye their hair for cosplay once and then went "wait a minute -" A shameless flirt until someone flirts back and then they're a flustered annoyed mess. Had a lot of jobs over the years, currently a barista - doesn't want to be a barista forever but doesn't know what they want to do (other than gaming, watching movies/shows/anime, reading books/comics/manga) until they accidentally discover a passion for medicine and go to nursing school

5. River Bouwmeester

(River after Lake from Infinity Train which I've never watched, Bouwmeester because it's a Dutch surname meaning "master builder" because they work as a home renovater)

[1]

Origin: Monster Manor

27 years

5'1"

He/They

Queer

Same occupation as the game's MC

American (because the game gave me no choice) with probably Dutch origins from their father's side

Couple of big scars here and there

BIG "I can fix him energy". Moves around a lot = not much possibility for a long term stable relationship = oblivious and shy when it comes to romantic attraction. Strong, patient, practical. Very little can rattle them. Came from a long family line of home renovaters/builders (of the magic, strange & weird) but no close living family. Unironically loves bob the builder. Trying very hard to forget about the fact that they're extremely lonely by keeping up a very positive optimistic attitude. Their truck is their pride & joy. Absolutely loves their job even though it's what causes them to move about so much and so makes it hard to form close connections. Very friendly from the first moment but isn't tolerant of anyone's bullshit.

6. Roo Kidd

(Roo after the baby kangaroo from Winnie the Pooh, Kidd because the baby kangaroo was a kid. Surprisingly the actual meanings behind both names fit with their character/circumstances)

[1] , [2]

Origin: Twisted Wonderland

16 years (Birthday January 10th)

5'7"

He/They

Gay Demiromantic Asexual

Wears reading glasses

Lots of small scars from scrapes and scratches all along body

Always cold + loves cute clothes = wearing summer dresses and instantly regretting it. Head in the clouds 7 outta 10 times. Has never felt romantic attraction before - believed they never would and was 100% okay with that - so the one time they did start feeling it went "wow I'm really into this friendship" and stayed oblivious for an annoyingly long time. Also similarly oblivious to romantic attraction directed at them. Kinda klutzy. Big wet eyes. Big bright smile. A ball of sunshine but also really snarky. "This might as well happen" energy. Fast with quick reflexes and a sharp eye for detail. A cunning edge that comes out only during emergencies. Strength of a wet noodle though. Gets a shitty impromptu/accidental haircut that leads to him buzzing it all off and having to grow it back.

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ggoatz · 3 months

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Special Operations Original Art Concepts & Thumbnails!

Since it's been over a year since Special Operations was first ever uploaded, I thought I should celebrate and make a proper masterlist of everything I've compiled throughout the year. I will also go ahead and link the official designs down below!

Quick disclaimer: Special Operations is MY fanfic, but I obviously don't own the characters! As always, thank you to Spoon & double-thank you to the fanartists and for 1,000 hits on the fanfic!!! Thank you thank you!

This post will get pretty long, so I'm gonna go ahead and make a cut below if you're interested in seeing more/reading my rambles!

Here are the very first ever art I did about a year and a half ago, before I even started writing the fic:

God damn, has my art come far. I don't want to get too sentimental, so let's move on the redesigns of these designs & my thoughts on these:

This was Donnie's first ever concept design (after the original designs) - I always knew I wanted to have him have a gas mask or mask of some kind - his ultimate design really changed there at the end! It's really cool to see how far my art has come since this last year LOL.

This was Mikey's original design concept for this au, once I reworked the original one above. I wasn't really happy with it, or any of the designs, for that fact... I didn't really have anything directly in mind over than the fact that knowing his brothers were mad overprotective of him would mean he's covered in clothes. I wanted a mask for him as well and really took inspiration from his design from the show, and tried to include the aspects from that. below here is a few mask concepts I tried out, and a sneak peak of Raph's design/doodle I did.

Even though these other mask concepts were cute, I just couldn't resist going with the first and original design I had. I took the inspiration off of that for the stickers/paints on his shell from the show. Below is an additional drawing of Mikey! Not much changed in his final design other than the fact that he has no shoes, really.

Here's Leo's first ever intial design. I am glad Spoon convinced me to change it, because while it's cool, I don't think it really fits Leo's flashy and show style. He is a fighter who works beautifully with his skills, so while stealth was obviously the #1 thing to be considered on the list, I ultimately just kind of handed his design to Spoon to decide how he should look LOL. This was such a starch contrast to the first drafts...

I've always struggled at drawing Raph, so I don't really have any photos of him saved ): / to show off. Sorry Raph lovers, but Spoon did him JUSTICE and I will forever be grateful for them for that <3<3

Below are the final designs, done by Spoon through nearly a year of us talking about the designs!

Spoon does not have a Tumblr, but they do have a Twitter, which you can find here: @Hydratedturtle! Without them, these designs would have never been finished/completed. It was so beyond crazy to see the very first drafts by me and the finished concepts executed beautifully by Spoon and making my ideas coming to life.

Below are all of the thumbnails of Special Operations that I've done, and the improvement is obvious! These are done through the year of 2023!

Annnd, finally, here's a sketch I did of Donnie back in November/December with his more updated design!

And that's all for now!!! <3

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fruityuncleskeletor · 27 days

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Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

seen on and snatched from @bunnakit

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? I started writing my own stories about cartoon characters because the episodes on TV were too far apart

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

Chan's room episodes

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? a fucking solid 2, because the more I see my own fic, the more disgusted I grow with it and lose the will to post it. The 2 is because I do realise editing is necessary.

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? I am calling @hardcandythinking but only to vent, I already know where to rent a woodchipper from

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love @ellieellieoxenfree

💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now? in my business inbox, 51. In my personal account, 0

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis@sparkly-butthole-on-ao3

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both? I used to be really into writing the OG characters

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before I have come to terms that I will always have an eating disorder, the difference now is that I've decided to profit from it.

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time? I am fucking exhausted, fam. And the supreme lack of interest in my writing in this new fandom. Feeling unwanted and tired has managed to give me a writer's block that I have successfully dodged for 20+ years.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Here's two-

Geralt and Jaskier are so in love with each other, even platonically. They don't want to admit it, but they have a really warm and cozy love bubble around them and both are afraid that if they speak about it, it'll make them feel less giddy and elated and pull this bubble into reality, making it vulnerable to being popped by evil forces.

Jace's nonchalant attitude re: the people he bangs and his unflinching love for Alec always made me think he is an in denial asexual - he is obviously not sex-repulsed but he wields sex like a weapon or like a quick fix to avoid looking at deeper emotions affecting him. I fucking love Jace to death, he gets so little credit.

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

talk to me on tumblr

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

My cat's health is better

I am losing weight and gaining muscle, feeling fitter than in my 20s

I found a hairdresser I absolutely love going to

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? some Korean words for reference. In Korean.

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character Yennefer is a gigantic selfish asshole, with only moments of emotional clarity and kindness and she treats Geralt like absolute crap most of the time.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? yeah not gonna make the FBI man's job easy. stay wondering, bro!

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

It's always better to assume people are assholes by default and then let yourself be pleasantly surprised when they are decent than the other way around. Saves you a world of disappointment.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

I can't pick rn.

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

The only way around it is through it. It helps to do various other creative things, it will recharge your creativity in the realm you feel it's low in. Like if you have writer's block, make some art. Draw some shit, splash some colours, bake and decorate a birthday cake, go outside and photograph some flowers.

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh "My butthole! I blew out my butthole!"

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? When someone picks their favourite parts of the chapter or fic, and details their thoughts on it for my enjoyment.

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate Alec is a good leader, perseverent and insightful.

🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? God I used to lie more often than I breathed when I was a kid and a teen. Lately I just lie to get out of having to socialise.

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately

I find stanning a K-Pop group to be 20% fun and 80% disheartening if you're older because you definitely feel like you can't sit with the cool kids and everything is just a really good, hi-def illusion set up to make you bust your wallet wide open, so every moment of genuine relatability and connection is invalidated by the feeling that these people are part of a marketing strategy. It's kind of like going to see strippers and even if you like one, you know that even if you fell in love with them, you're not allowed to get to know them because for them it's just work and you are only worth the cash you pay in their eyes. The closeness is an illusion that leaves you feeling even lonelier and sadder than you were before.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? There are a lot of them but my core reference is Anne Rice's writing. Now I am writing something that was inspired by the portrayal of Jack Reacher in the "Reacher" series on Amazon.

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing It would be nice if I could write stuff that's relatable to others, not just to me. But that would mean biiiiiiiig consciousness shift and I'm extremely pussilanimous when it comes to this.

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? I think the delivery matters a lot - a surprise is being told something that you don't know yet, and if the person breaking the news makes it seem like a heart attack from shock is the adequate response, then better don't tell me, just show me.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

Hyunjin had made himself comfortable on his bed, with his legs propped up on the headboard, leaving just his shirt and his socks on. He intended to drag it out as much as he could and get the most out of those pics.

Magazine in one hand, dick in the other - that’s how Changbin had found him, walking in to ask a very pressing question. (65 words bc just the 50 didn't make sense alone.)

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? Thinking about my love-hate relationship with writing.

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@hardcandythinking is my bestie and my number 1 fan. She's the real MVP.

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐀 🌻 STAYTIST (@kerimaix)

instagram

This is so surreal - Chan is a human with two sets of ears and the rest of the members are tiny wee animals - and the love, goofiness and fun are so well captured. This artist also depicts Chan as shy and cute, and I prefer this to the hard dom or arrogant inaccessible guy takes I see more often. Like I get it's appealing to others but I like a squeaky, shy guy better than any alpha dude character.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

poor characterization on a macro level

crass and goofy consistent misspelling like "nobbing" instead of "nodding", "viscous" instead of "vicious", "colon" instead of "cologne"

offputting descriptions like "chubby little cock" or "fat mushroom" (used for dick tips). I would lose my erection if someone talked to me like that irl

#writers truth and dare #I know no one's gonna send me asks so I did it like this bc it was fun anyway #writing #Spotify #Instagram

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mangonatural · 8 months

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Rules: Make a 24 hour poll with the names of your WIPs, let it run, then work for 10 minutes for every vote the winner receives.

Thank you for the tag, @angelcasendgame!!!!! I am not sure I will be able to work on anything very soon just because life came after me again, and turns out I'm gonna be moving over the next month or so, but I really do hope I can find time!!

None of these have names yet lol. I put the SPN ones first, but technically I've been trying to break my writer's block by returning to The Great Gatsby (It's all Nick/Gatsby btw, just realized that might not be immediately evident) with limited success. It's always come easier for me. But all of this is stuff I do actively want to work on.

Ohh I don't know who to tag. I'm sure everyone in this circle has been tagged already, and most of the people I talk to regularly enough to know about their projects have more or less left Tumblr... I do absolutely want to pass this your way though, @antique-ro-man!! (It's Wes, btw!) I also wanna tag @heyfagbutt! And then anyone else who sees this and wants to participate, I also encourage it!! This is such a cool idea :D !!

Long, rambling explanations down here ⬇⬇

I think the name is pretty explanatory? The gist of it is they go after the same guy and become pseudo-enemies but they keep bumping into each other like this and decide to work together after a while 👍 this is a really bad hook LMAO. Anyway, I'm trying to build on the idea that they work REALLY well together when they do it intentionally but fail comically when they don't.

Pretty much what it says on the tin as well. No Supernatural AU. Dean goes to a community college to get a certification to help with his work elsewhere, but Cas, a figure drawing model, catches him drawing (which Dean's been doing on and off as a hobby) and tries to get him to sign up for the arts program.

I technically only have a summary of this, and I'm not entirely sure if I will write it all out, but I do want to at least put more time into the development before I dedicate to giving up on it bc of scope lol. I just have SUCH a soft spot for fake relationship AUs. Also, I just found out that while I have FINALLY aged into independent FAFSA eligibility, I am once again tax bracketed out. Anyway, financial abuse is real and I want to project my suffering onto Dean. Also immigrant Cas, but I haven't decided where I want him to be from yet. I think this has a lot of potential for some pretty hefty character redesigns too so it's also compelling to me from that angle. I guess I could also write it for TGG, but I did initially think of it for Destiel, so.

I don't know how to explain this one very well except that I had unhelpfully written "poolboy au" in my notes and then proceeded to forget what the hell I meant. This fic was an attempt to resurrect that but ended up being a funky modern West Coast re-imagining where Gatsby can't even "make it" as much as he wants to, and Nick can't find a place to live except for a less-than-legally rented pool house. It's not meant to be a full rewrite or anything though.

Uhhh yeah, I'm keeping the details private for this one ahaha but that's just because it wasn't supposed to be a big deal and I told a friend she would see what it was when it was done...like oh god probably a month ago at this point... My original scope for this was quite small, but research for it, indecision, and a nasty case of writer's block that I've had for nearly a year now have kept development a bit slow. Hopefully, I'll finish it before the year comes to a close.

I also don't know how to explain this one well other than "after being rejected by Daisy (Canon Divergent), Gatsby attempts to buy his way into a bewildered Nick's heart. Though the fic is from Nick's POV, Gatsby's just had his worldview shattered and is in a bit of denial, but instead of pursuing Daisy harder, he channels all of that energy into Nick (though he's not really sure why he's doing it at first). I wasn't sure what to put up at the top because I absolutely don't want my code name for this public at least until it's done LMAO.

#new post #tag game #spn #cause i'm gonna kick this over to my main too bc of the tgg #but i SAID i was gonna quarantine the spn stuff here so .#sorry i feel soo much more rambly than normal #did you know that some property managers will approve you in fewer than 2 hours after you submit your application?#can't stop thinking about that

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doodle-bun-makes · 8 months

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Hi! Would you mind telling me about your favourite thing you've ever created?

Oh my gosh I dont even know where to start!!!! I've made a lot of things in my 19 years of life; both fandom related and original ideas, writing and drawing! So I'm gonna choose one of each because I can't choose just one (this is going to be long lol)

For fan writing, I have to say my favorite thing I've made so far is for Haikyuu (of course lol). It's a fantasy au that originally focused on Kyoutani x Yamaguchi where Kyoutani's a demon/cambion who's apart of this infamous demon family that's known for bringing destruction. He and his brothers are summoned to bring down a kingdom that was already on the verge of collapsing b/c of a shitty king who pissed a lot of people off. But Kyoutani becomes enamored with Yamaguchi, who all the demons mistake for the prince. Then Kyoutani gets in trouble because he decides to spare and help heal Yamaguchi even though they were supposed to kill all the royalty. It isn't until a demon king comes to "finish the job" that it's revealed that Yamaguchi isn't the prince, but the personal servant of the princess. Then this would branch into another story focused on Hinata x Aone where prince Hinata and his sister flee to the neighboring kingdom in the mountains. Then Hinata tries to befriend the shy prince Aone and they end up falling in love after Aone saves Hinata from hypothermia after he was thrown by a horse into a river. I still love this idea even though I haven't finished either of these fics. I've put so much thought into it and I don't want to publish anything until I have the whole story written out so I don't leave anything on a cliffhanger. I do intend to finish these fics one day and maybe add another to the universe where Yamaguchi, Aone, Hinata, and some other characters (i'm thinking Tsukishima and Kageyama) go on some journey, but idk. But if we're talking about published fics I'm still so proud of my Yamaguchi x Kyoutani cowboy au "The Hat Rule" that's published on my ao3, it's the longest fic I've been able to finish so far!

For fan art, this is going to be hard. I'm kinda in a rut right now where I hate my art style, but I still really like this art I made for my cowboy au fic "The Hat Rule" that I mentioned before

For original works, i think my favorite story would have to be this fantasy story that's working title is "Of Dragons and Unicorns" where the princess of the unicorn kingdom, Sylvia, is betrothed to the crown prince of the dragon kingdom, Eluard, but she's really resentful about it because she's only met him once when they were really young so she doesn't remember him at all and all the portraits she gets of him make him look dull and boring. But the dragon royalty and other royalty are coming to the unicorn kingdom to celebrate Sylvia at a debutante ball thing. Basically, Sylvia is cold to Eluard and his brother Oswald at first but after she has a slight meltdown at her ball, Eluard opens up to her and they become friends. I'm hoping for a one sided enemys-to-friends-to-lovers kind of story. Then in a different story Sylvia would move to the dragon kingdom where she'd learn that Eluard has an estranged twin brother and both of them have this curse(?) that gives them dragon traits (scales, wings, claws). While the estranged brother embraces his traits and sees it as an excuse to not be responsible for his actions, Eluard is ashamed of it and tries to hide his traits from Sylvia. Then this would lead to the whole "prince saves princess from dragon" situation where BOTH of the princes are dragons (kinda) and Sylvia is so rude to the estranged brother that he gives her up voluntarily. But this story is SO far from finished that I don't know when or if it'll ever be done. I've put so much thought into the world building for this story that I could honestly spend hours talking about it. I truly love this story, but I literally can't find the motivation in me to work on it.

For original drawings, this is a hard one. I have a lot of OC's that have my whole heart, but my favorite digital drawing has to be this one with burlesque cocker spaniels. For a little context, I like drawing animals in old fashioned clothes when I'm super stressed because it makes me feel better. I'm not an official furry (I don't have a fursona or anything), but this piece brings me a certain pride that none of my others do. Maybe it's the lighting

But yeah! These are four of my favorite projects and I'm so happy to share them with you who made it this far. I'd be happy to answer any questions you might have about any of my projects!

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catwings-writes-things · 5 months

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For the ao3 wrapped: 3, 6, 16, 29

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Surprising no one, I'm gonna have to say A World of His Own. Before this year I'd never written anything (I do mean anything--no fanfic, original fiction, essays, nothing) longer than around 15,000 words. Now I have an in-progress fic with a single coherent storyline that's over 100,000 words long and nowhere near done. Some of the chapters are longer than 15,000 words. And not only that, but I'm really proud of the writing and the characterization. The Jailbreak Squad have taken over my brain and I have no objections whatsoever.

6. Favorite title you used?

De Humani Corporis Fabrica--Latin for "On the Fabric of the Human Body"--is the title of the best-known anatomy text by Andreas Vesalius, a Rennaissance anatomist and pioneer of human dissection, which at the time was considered taboo. As such, most anatomical knowledge came from dissections of animals, inspection of traumatic injuries, and conventional wisdom from earlier anatomists who had largely been working under the same restrictions. Vesalius was both sufficiently dedicated to his pursuit of accurate anatomical knowledge and sufficiently unbothered by other people's opinions as to cut bodies down from the gallows after public executions (sometimes having to fight stray dogs for them) and take them home to study, even allowing them to decompose in his living space to get at the bones once he'd learned all he could from the soft tissue. (He was also my first historical friend-crush, which probably tells you quite a bit about me, although perhaps not much to which my fic wouldn't tip you off.) De Humani Corporis Fabrica is his masterwork, illustrating what he'd learned with intricate drawings of bodies in various lifelike poses and states of dissection.

Needless to say, Andreas Vesalius was a Flesh avatar if ever there was one, not to mention probably autistic AF, and De Humani Corporis Fabrica seems as good a candidate as any for a Leitner. So when I set out to write a fic featuring late human-era Mike Crew nearly working himself to death in an extended burst of autistic hyperfocus and Angela the Flesh avatar trying to both help him deal with the immediate fallout and convince him that bodies have limits and he needs to treat his with more respect if it's going to last long enough to get him wherever he's going, using "De Humani Corporis Fabrica" as the title seemed pretty damn perfect.

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Families of Choice, which is the canonical tag on AO3 for the concept I've mostly heard referred to as "found family." It's specifically tagged on three of the seven fics I've posted this year (that number is misleading, due to my aforementioned longfic), but it could or should have been tagged on six of them. ("Fix-It," "Temporary Character Death," "Complicated Relationships," and "Twisted and Fluffy Feelings" appear on two fics apiece, which probably also gives some relevant information. Especially that last one.)

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Honestly, I can't decide. I've been proud of so many things I've written this year that I really can't narrow it down--which is a good problem to have! If it helps, after I post chapter ten, I think I'm going to make a "pick your favorite bit of out-of-context A World of His Own dialog" poll--each option a line spoken by a different character.

Okay, never mind. I found a favorite. From Chapter 2 of A World of His Own:

“I can't... sit and watch television with you,” Helen finally said, almost a snap. “It won’t work.” She gestured at herself, head to feet. “This isn't even a real body. It's more of a... concept.” “Well,” said Harriet mildly. “Sit the concept of your butt down and let us introduce you to The Twilight Zone.”

Thank you so much for the ask, anonymous friend! I hope you have a great day!

#asks and answers #anonymous #the jailbreak squad #fic: a world of his own #ao3 wrapped writers edition

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fanfictionsquared · 2 years

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I’m reworking my one MoD!Harry AU. Details below the cut.

Who did I draw in the pic?

Regulus (sharp cheekbone, curly hair that changes length)

Sirius (in the jacket with pins hehe)

Lily Luna (red hair)

Teddy (blue hair)

What is the AU now, FF^2?

*inhales deeply*

SO. Everything’s mostly canon (not cursed child compliant tho lmao), and Harry is officially Master of Death since he was the owner of all three hallows at the same time. This means, essentially, that he is now the personification/god of death.

Since Harry is Harry tho, he doesn’t want to live forever alone, and so his friends and family try to help him find a way to get out of it. There isn’t one. So he is, of course, resigned to living forever alone.

Except his friends decide “no, no thanks, we’re not letting you do this alone.” So when Harry dies and ‘ascends,’ his family and friends choose to ascend with him. He’s able to reach already dead souls using the stone, so Sirius also ends up making the choice to ascend too. The rest of the dead are content staying where they are.

(I have,,,, such a long list of who ascends and what they do and blah blah blah, but I’m not gonna get into it because it is….. so much. It’s truly just so much.)

The important thing is that the way this works is that the universe resets itself every so often, slightly different each time. And certain things carry through, like tales turning into mythos. Harry and his immortal (sometimes reincarnating) family, are the focus of several of these myths, including the harbingers of the apocalypse one.

So when his family meddles, it’s usually with those names, rather than their original ones. Which, when they interact with alternate incarnations of people they know, can cause some shenanigans.

What is actually depicted in your doodles?

Regulus,,,, listen he is my current blorbo and I just wanted to draw him, ok? The jegulus fandom got its teeth in me and now I’m thinking about Harry Potter stuff again. (Speaking of which! Fuck JKR.)

In this AU, he doesn’t ascend with everyone else, but instead ascends later during a whole thing that I will maybe actually write into a fic. Maybe.

Top left is just the first full body Regulus design I did. Dipping my toes in, you could say. Key things; he’s younger in this. Pre-ascension. He’s wearing slytherin’s locket for plot reasons.

Top middle is the Black brothers with their animagus forms behind them. And yes I made regulus’ a lion. Tbh I think he deserves it. He’s dangerous, lazy, proud, sneaky, and at the end he was really, really brave. I know lots of people make him a house cat, but like. If Sirius can have his star’s namesake as an animagus form, so can regulus.

Below that, we have Regulus saying “Potter?” While looking shocked. I won’t elaborate too much on this for plot reasons (in case I write the fic), BUT, this is the moment that he learns that Lily Luna is a Potter.

To the right of that is the brother hanging out and being cute and I love them. I just want them to reconcile and talk and be family again 😭. Also I want Sirius to have 100 little gay pins for his leather jacket. He deserves it.

Bottom left is Lily Luna and Regulus together. I this AU on particular, Regulus has a mentor/mentee and uncle adjacent relationship with her. They are cute, and I love them, and I won’t hear otherwise, sorry not sorry.

Bottom right is the only doodle I will give spoilers for. It’s post-ascension, where Regulus, Sirius, LilyLuna, and Teddy are all about to wreck some shit. The rest of the family jokingly calls them the “Grim Squad”, because all of them go out and hunt down wayward or death cheating souls. So if you see them, you’re their target, and will die. Just like the Grim thing.

Last words

This is a self indulgent au, and idk if I’ll write it, but maybe I’ll elaborate on it more here if anyone is actually interested. Either way, I’m just happy I had the motivation to draw this 😌

#regulus arcturus black #sirius orion black #teddy remus lupin #lily luna potter #fuck jkr #one of these days I’m gonna stop putting my au doodles on one big sheet #that day is not today #will I write the fic? maybe

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iheartgod175 · 2 years

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Hey, so remember that ages old Touché Turtle sketch I did a few months ago? Well, I brought Catalina back, and she's gotten quite a facelift since she first appeared. Still short, still sassy and still a force to be reckoned with in terms of swordsmanship (though naturally, she won't beat Touché Turtle himself).

A quick bio for her (italicized means subject to change)

Full Name: Catalina Gutierrez

Species: Cat (obviously, though what breed of cat I'm still working on)

Birthday: July 27th

Country of Origin: Spain

Height: 2'5"

Weight: 92 lbs.

Fur color: Cherry Red

A member of the famous Feline Paladins, a squadron of feline musketeers within the Heroes Society. If Touché Turtle is the D'Artagnan of the Heroes Society, then Catalina is the Athos: she is taciturn and strict, rather aloof and tends to take on missions by herself. Though coolheaded in most situations, she can have some impulsive moments and a hot temper that takes a minute to cool down. She's notorious for her brutal honesty, and won't hesitate to speak her mind, especially when she's angry. Despite this, she's protective of the members of her squadron, namely Emilia, who she cares for like a daughter, and Augustin, whom she recognizes as separate from the actions of his father, the Black Knight.

Catalina has a mysterious past that not even the upper ranks of the Society were able to uncover, though it ties to the Dugan clan and her hatred of of the Gold Paladin, which runs even deeper than Dum-Dum's. She has confronted him only once, which resulted in her bitter defeat. She learned that there was only one person who was able to defeat him, and that was the heir of the Dugan Keep. To that end, she decided to seek Touché Turtle's services...albeit in the most unorthodox manner by arresting Dum-Dum and holding him in prison until Touché arrived. She got chewed out for it later, but in her mind, the end justifies the means. It wasn't an easy partnership, especially in regards to Dum-Dum, but if they can make it out of this without killing each other, then mission accomplished. And maybe, just maybe, she'll discover what made Rutherford Dugan choose this sleepy sheepdog as the next Keeper of the Crown.

Trivia:

- Her profile here doesn't show it, but she's actually left-handed.

- Her costume was heavily inspired by the Three Musketeers set in Revue Starlight, specifically, Hikari Kagura's Athos card, though she also has elements of Karen's D'Artagnan costume as well. Her costume was almost more elaborate than this, but I remembered that I have to draw her again and again 😬

- Personality wise, I imagine her to be a distant relative of Ruff (of Ruff and Reddy fame). I might draw them together some time.

- I can also imagine her and Touché being at odds because of her attitude, though they'd slowly warm up to each other, especially after Cat warms up to Dum-Dum.

That's gonna be all for now, maybe until I decide to do a full on rewrite of the original For Love and Glory. She'll probably appear sometime in the third fic, where they encounter the Gold Paladin again. I'll be posting a (more or less) complete fic list for my Touché Turtle fics in that series on my writing blog, @taviewritesstuff.

Enjoy 🙂

#hanna-barbera #Touché Turtle #fan art #my ocs do not steal #my art #character profile

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rollercoasterwords · 2 years

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hey bestie i am LOVING the hand that feeds and the new chapters are impeccable as always!!!🫶🫶

what encouraged you to go in a “non-traditional” direction that with dorcas and marlene’s background? i really admire the depth you’ve gone especially with the troubles and issues with race that aren’t normally explored in fanfiction! i think it’s so important and respectful research you go through and it really shows in your writing💓💓

hi thank you that means a lot to hear!! <3 i feel like this answer’s gonna get loooooong bc there are already a bunch of threads unspooling in my head based on that question lol so i’m gonna try to organize them

ok so i mean first off, part of it is just that...they’re the main characters, y’know? like i think in most fics since they’re side/background characters, we’re just not getting as much detail about them because that’s the nature of being a side/background character so like...yeah, makes sense. but when i decided “hey i wanna make them the main characters” part of that is just naturally needing to flesh out questions like - where are they from? who’s their family? where is their family from? etc etc

so hang on ok let me talk abt them one by one

dorcas

i knew before i started writing the fic that dorcas was going to be black -- i actually don’t know if her race is ever mentioned in canon ?? but it’s basically canon at this point y’know? so, yeah, i wasn’t going to change that. and i guess i could have been like “oh racism doesn’t exist in this magical universe” but like...jkr basically made racism canon in-universe by just....being racist. so! for me it would kind of feel like...bad-faith writing or something? i guess? to be like “oh i’m making a black girl one of my main characters but i’m just never going to talk about racism or how her race affects her life.”

and like, to be honest, i did spend a lot of time thinking about this before i started writing -- i am not black, so part of me was nervous about writing a black main character, because i was like what if this just isn’t my experience to write about? but then at the same time...i’m also not a wizard, and i’m also not a gay man, and i’m also not irish or british or scottish or welsh, etc etc etc -- a lot of writing is inherently about trying to understand and explore experiences that you may have never had. and at the end of the day, this was a story i really wanted to write, and so i’m hoping that by doing research + being mindful + remaining open to constructive criticsm i’ll be able to do dorcas justice :)

as for the specific decision to give her yoruba heritage -- this was basically just me doing some surface-level research on british colonialism in africa, as that’s not something i’d ever studied very closely, and then narrowing down options to country and looking up ethnic groups within those countries. i ended up just sort of following wikipedia rabbit holes until i started reading about the yoruba people, and then the more i read the more i was like yes, this makes sense. i want to include this as part of my story. so now i am!

marlene

so with marlene the decision to focus more on irish heritage + the troubles was not originally something i had planned out for this fic, but the troubles in context with the first wizarding war was something that i had sort of been turning over in the back of my mind ever since writing the war chapters in atyd - sirius’s pov. like, it might just be because i love history (got a degree in it and everything hell yeah), but when i’m thinking about oh what’s going on politically + socially in the wizarding world? i can’t help also thinking okay and what’s going on in the muggle world at the same time?

and like -- honestly, i’m sort of surprised that i haven’t seen the troubles referenced more in like era-appropriate/historically accurate fics (which, again, might just be me being a history nerd) just because ??? it was literally such a huge conflict?? and i’m not in any way trying to draw a direct comparison between the first wizarding war and the troubles (in fact, i specifically discourage anyone from trying to do that, because the first wizarding war is a much more straightforward conflict and trying to map them onto each other would likely just take away lots of important nuance from what was going on with the troubles), BUT i do think it’s just like...so fascinating to explore parallels + differences between these two conflicts that were (in this fictional universe, at least) happening simultaneously. and...yeah, just the more i read about the troubles the more i was like “i’ve got to include this because there’s simply no way that all these muggleborn and half-blood wizards would be oblivious to it.” like if they’re in tune enough with the muggle world to be listening to muggle music and watching muggle movies and stuff then how would they not know about the troubles, y’know?

anyway, once i had decided to include it as part of the story it just kinda unspooled in my brain from there. like, i don’t remember when i made the conscious decision that i wanted to spend so much time on it in chapter 21, but i think it started because aoife basically just popped into my head fully-formed as a character and i was like well now i have to explain to everyone else who she is...and then research rabbit hole after research rabbit hole and suddenly i was finding an article about “save ulster from sodomy” in the british newspaper archives, and now here we are :)

anyway in conclusion the overall thing that encouraged me to go in a “non-traditional” (i feel like it’s just non-traditional because there’s not really a tradition of writing dorcas and marlene as main characters, y’know? but hey, i’ll take it) direction in terms of background was basically just the desire to give these characters an actual background -- to give them each a unique family history that shapes their perspectives + characters and that provides opportunities to explore some more nuanced intersections of identity! plus, there are already so many white + english main characters in marauders fics (which makes sense, given the source material), so i guess i figured why not switch it up a bit since i’m writing about two characters who are essentially blank slates (canonically speaking, at least) :)

#if u read all of this i am giving u a kiss on the forehead #this was such a fun question also thank u for asking whoever u are #two forehead kisses for u <3 #thtf #ask

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silvfyre-writings · 1 year

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This is NOT a Love Story (Or is it?) Pt. 1 MHA Fanfic

Welcome, welcome, to my next long term project! I do hope you all stick around and enjoy what I have to bring you because this is gonna be a long one. (Seriously, I actually wrote out an outline which I never do)

I really wanted to write a childhood friends AU between Touya and Keigo and finally decided to do it. The fic will be split into 'three' parts; Childhood, Teenager, and Adult, years.

So, without further ado, feel free to begin reading, and I hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave a comment or a reblog, or even both, if you enjoyed!!!

“Get out, and stay out!”

The words rang throughout Keigo’s mind as he shuffled down the street, his wings stuffed underneath the oversized sweater he’d been forced into that morning. Keigo made sure to keep his head down and avoid bumping into anyone, not wanting to draw any attention to himself—let alone the bruise that was forming on his face. He may have been young, but he wasn’t stupid. The last time he’d been thrown out of the house covered in bruises, people wouldn’t stop staring at him, and many asked questions about the origin of the bruises. Not that Keigo told them. He knew that the moment he told someone where the bruises came from, he’d be called a liar and chased away. That was what his father always told him. And, well, his father had to be right, he was Keigo’s father; older and much smarter than poor little Keigo. Keigo was just a stupid child, getting in the way all the time and being no help at all.

“God, why do I even keep you around?”

Keigo flinched, as if the words he heard frequently had just been whispered into his ear. And then he froze, eyes flicking from side to side to make sure that no one had seen him flinch before he continued walking. All he’d tried to do was be helpful; the place they called home was starting to break and splinter, and Keigo didn’t want that. That was his home, and the only one he’d ever known throughout his short life. If it fell, then he would fall, and he didn’t want that. So, Keigo had ventured outside, making sure that his bright red wings were hidden just as his father liked, searching for pieces of scrap that he could use to repair the holes and cracks. And he had! He’d found a place filled with scrap, no one guarding it or using it, so Keigo had grabbed as much as his little hands could carry and rushed towards home, only to have someone grab the scruff of his shirt.

Turns out, trying to steal from one of his fathers’ friends had been a poor decision, but how was Keigo supposed to know? He’d never seen this person before in his life. If he’d known, he never would’ve even tried to steal. But no, that wasn’t good enough for his father, and after a singular punch to the face, Keigo’s father had tossed him outside and told him to never come back; an empty threat, because whenever Keigo snuck back into the house the next morning, his father never said a word about it. But it wasn’t the next day, and it wouldn’t be for several hours yet, leaving Keigo to be on his own for the rest of the day. Sure, he could try sneaking back into his home before the day was over, but he knew exactly how that would go, and he didn’t fancy obtaining anymore bruises today. The one on his cheek was plenty.

So, Keigo walked and walked, with no destination in mind, feeling every stone and tuft of weed against the soles of his bare feet. Shoes were a luxury that didn’t belong to him, although he certainly longed for a pair of his own. In the few outside ventures he’d taken, he’d seen many other children with their pretty shoes—some of them even lighting up as they walked—and his want grew. A child had once spoken to Keigo about shoes, long ago, curious about his lack of shoes, and when Keigo couldn’t give an answer, the child had tried to give him their own shoes. Keigo had been tempted, so tempted to take the shoes, but in the end, he’d run, leaving the other child behind. He’d known that if he'd come home with shoes, his father would demand to know where he’d been, where the shoes had come from, and whether or not he’d interacted with people.

Keigo still remembered the night his father came back covered in blood, after he’d excitedly told him about the friend he’d made at the park that day.

He never saw that child again.

And he never tried to make a friend again.

Deep down, Keigo knew his father was an unloving person—he’d seen and been through things that most other children never would in their lives—yet he turned a blind eye towards what his father did; his father was all he had now after all. But he always saw. Always remembered. He remembered listening as his parents argued when he was younger, voices piercing against his sensitive ears, when the sound of glass shattering made him turn and he watched as his father bent his mother over the rickety wooden table in the middle of the room, driving the broken bottle into her chest. Over and over, until the table was dripping blood and his mother stopped moving. For two days, Keigo had stared at his mothers corpse before his father had snapped at him to do something about it, and he’d had to drag her outside and bury her. By the end of it, his arms were sticky with blood and his feet blackened with mud, and all his mind could focus on was the way his father had stabbed and stabbed and stabbed.

One of his father’s friends had once said that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Supposedly it meant that when he was older, he’d become like his father. But looking into the lifeless eyes of the woman that had brought him into the world, he found that he didn’t really want to become like him. His father was an angry and paranoid man, always lashing out, always fearful of being discovered—by whom, Keigo didn’t know—and always untrusting of anyone but himself.

Yet…

He was strong.

His father wasn’t a large man, that much was obvious to Keigo whenever he happened to see him standing with his friends, yet somehow, he had control of the room whenever he was in it. No one dared to ever stand up to his father, nor did they dare to disagree with him. Keigo had seen exactly one person do that, remembered the strange man threatening to call the heroes if his father didn’t do something. And before Keigo could even blink, there’d been a knife embedded in the stranger man’s throat. The room had fallen into silence, everyone staring at man as he bled out on the floor. Only once the man no longer moved, did the chatter start up again. And that was just one time. Keigo could remember another time, his favorite time, when his father had shown his strength. Keigo had been thrown out of the house, so he’d wandered, ending up in an alley after stealing some food when some bad people had noticed and recognized him. One of them had pinned Keigo to the wall, slowly applying pressure to his neck. Keigo had panicked; flailed and kicked, trying to get free, but he’d failed. His vision had just started to fade when the hand around his throat loosened and fell away, allowing him to drop against the ground. As his sight came back into focus, he saw his father fighting the men that had attacked him. His father had won, picked Keigo up and carried him home.

It was the one and only time his father had shown any sort of positive emotion towards him.

And Keigo decided.

Maybe being like his father wasn’t the worst thing, if it meant he could be strong like him.

“Watch where you’re going!”

Keigo flinched as his shoulder bumped into the leg of a stranger, and he slowly lifted his head to stare with frightened eyes into the face of someone with the head of a cat. He stood there, frozen, waiting for the blow that would inevitably come for getting in the persons way. The stranger had originally looked annoyed, but now, their face softened and their eyes grew gentle. Then they were coming down to crouch in front of Keigo. “Hey, I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”

Keigo nodded swiftly, unsure of what he should do in this situation. Most of the time, the other people of the city he and his father lived in ignored him, too busy with whatever was going on in their own lives to pay attention to the battered child walking amongst them. Not that Keigo really wanted to be noticed in the first place; his father got mad if people spoke to him after all, but what was he supposed to do if someone engaged with him first?

“What’s your name, kid? Mine’s Tamakawa.” The stranger—Tamakawa—asked, soft expression now a frown. “You seem a little young to be wondering the streets on your own. Where’s your parents?”

No, no, no, no, you can’t ask questions. Please don’t ask me anymore questions. Questions are bad. People get hurt when they ask me questions. Please just go, leave me alone. I’m fine, I’m strong. The thoughts ran through Keigo’s little mind, quickly overwhelming him, his feathers ruffling underneath the sweater in response. He needed to leave, and leave now, but he couldn’t convince his legs to move, his mouth to speak. Everything he needed to do to get Tamakawa to stop paying attention to him, was failing him right at that moment.

Tamakawa’s frown deepened. “How about we go to the police station? They’ll be able to help—”

“NO!” Keigo shouted, finally finding his voice. He took a step back, and then another. He knew what the police were, had heard his father talking about them constantly, and knew they were bad. The police were bad people, his father had told him one time, hunting people down and taking them away just because they didn’t agree with the law. Keigo didn’t know what the law was, but his father had explained to him once that the people in the outside world had strict rules that others had to follow, and that if those rules were broken, the person would be taken away, never to be seen again. Keigo’s feathers had ruffled at that. He understood his father’s unsaid words. His father was one of those rule-breakers and if the police found him, they’d take him away, leaving Keigo all alone.

Keigo ran.

Without any hesitation, Keigo ran away from Tamakawa’s kind and concerned face, leaving the footpath and running down an alley, dodging trash piles and the few people that were there. He heard Tamakawa shout, but couldn’t hear the sound of footsteps chasing him, meaning that he wasn’t being followed. Yet, Keigo didn’t stop. He didn’t want to risk stopping and attracting the attention of someone else. His surroundings passed by in a blur; shops and buildings shrinking from their massive, towering heights, slowly stretching out as trees and parks began to sneak in, until they disappeared into a forest. Keigo slowed to a halt, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. There was dirt underneath his feet, so much softer than the concrete he’d been running on. Trees were everywhere, and a new kind of fear formed within Keigo.

He was lost.

This was an area that was unfamiliar to Keigo, unlike the city whose streets he’d learnt like each individual feather on his back. And when he tried to retrace his steps, he found himself getting lost even more, trees surrounding him at every turn. Wind blew through the trees, a whispering noise that was probably soothing to most, but rather spooky to the small boy lost within them. I don’t know what to do… Getting lost wasn’t something Keigo had much experience with, and he wasn’t sure what to do next. Should he keep walking and hope he found a way out of the forest soon, or should he wait and hope his father came looking for him? He did doubt the latter; his father had never come looking for him when he’d been thrown out before, so Keigo couldn’t see why he would do so this time. Yet, he didn’t really want to keep walking and end up even more lost. But what choice did he have?

So, Keigo walked once again, carefully making his way between the trees, hoping to find some sort of clue that would point him in the direction he needed to go to get home. But there was nothing, only more trees. Tears welled in Keigo’s eyes as he came to a stop, crouching to lean against the tree. He wanted to go home, he wanted to go back to the crumbly building that was his home… he wanted his dad. More tears ran down his cheeks and Keigo wrapped his scrawny arms around his legs, pulling them close to his chest. He hated crying. It made him feel weak, and he didn’t like feeling weak, not when he wanted to be strong. But just this once, he allowed himself to cry.

Keigo didn’t know how long he had been crying for, but his cries broke off abruptly as he heard footsteps approaching him. Quickly, Keigo climbed to his feet and ducked around the tree he’d just been leaning against, only to come face to face with a boy taller than he was, with hair that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be red or white. The boy stopped, just barely avoiding a collision with Keigo, his turquoise eyes wide and concerned as he stared at Keigo.

“Are you okay?” The boy asked, moving back so that there was space between the two of them. “I heard someone crying. Was that you?”

Keigo couldn’t help but frown. Like there was anyone else in this strange place that would be crying. But, Keigo appreciated the boy asking instead of outright pointing it out. “I don’t know where I am.”

“Oh, that makes sense. People don’t usually come up here, so I thought it odd when I heard noises. Where do you need to go?”

“Home.”

“And…?” The boy said, clearly waiting for Keigo to elaborate. But Keigo didn’t, not because he didn’t want the boy’s help, but because he didn’t actually know where home was. All he knew was that it was in the city somewhere, somewhere it couldn’t easily be found. Keigo didn’t know how to convey this to the boy though, said boy giving an impatient huff. “Where is home?”

Keigo shrugged, dropping his gaze. “Back in the city.”

“The city?” The boy sounded shocked, like he couldn’t believe Keigo’s words. “How the hell did you get all the way here?”

“Walked.”

“You… walked? From the city?”

“Is that… far?” Keigo asked.

“Well, yeah. This is Sekoto Peak. It’s on the outskirts of the city.” The boy kicked at the ground with a shrug of his own.

“Out…skirts?” The word was unfamiliar on Keigo’s tongue, his head tilting in confusion. “What’s that?”

“Oh, uh—” The boy blinked, clearly surprised at the question. “—it means… as far as you can get without leaving the city.”

Oh. That was quite far, and Keigo couldn’t believe that he’d managed to get all the way from his home to this… Sekoto Peak place. If it really was as far as the boy was implying, then how was Keigo ever going to get home? Would he ever get home? Was he destined to roam this forest for the rest of his days?

“Hey, uh, what’s your name?”

Keigo hesitated, he wasn’t sure if he should tell the boy his name, but as he looked into those eyes, he suddenly felt safe, like nothing could hurt him if he was with this boy, despite him being a complete stranger. Yet he couldn’t help but remember the boy at the park. He’d told that boy his name, and he never saw him again. Keigo didn’t want the same thing to happen to this boy. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll get hurt if you know my name.” Keigo said.

“As if.” The boy scoffed. “I’m super strong, so if anyone tries to do anything, I’ll fight them.”

“Keigo…”

“Okay, Keigo. My name’s Touya. And I’ll help you get home! Because I’m going to be a hero!” Touya said, grabbing Keigo’s arm before he could say anything and began to pull him along, leading him towards a path made of sand and following it down the slope. The sand was coarse, much rougher than the dirt Keigo had been running on, yet softer than the concrete he was familiar with. It reminded Keigo of one of the playground sandpits he’d played in once, back when his mother had still been alive to take him outside.

“Do you know what part of the city you live in, Keigo?” Touya asked after they’d been walking a bit. “Do you have a street name or something?”

Keigo shook his head before realizing that Touya was unable to see it. “No. I don’t know. I don’t know how to read.”

Touya came to a halt, looking over his shoulder towards Keigo, a shocked look on his face once again. “You can’t read? You look old enough to be reading.”

“I just fix the house.” Was all Keigo said. It wasn’t like there were any books in the house that he could read in the first place, and his father had never taken the time to teach him, stating it was an unnecessary skill, and that he didn’t need to read to get by in life. Yet, from the way that Touya was looking at him, it made him think that maybe reading was something he needed to know.

“You fix the house…?” Touya raised an eyebrow, shaking his head a moment later before he started walking again, Keigo stumbling to follow him. “Well, anyway, I’ll take you to the city, and we’ll walk around until we find something you recognize. How does that sound?”

“Thank you. I’ve never been lost before. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Well, it’s lucky you ran into me then! I was going to do some secret training, but helping a lost child seems much more heroic.”

Once again, Touya spoke of something unfamiliar, a similar word having come up earlier. Heroes and heroics; there was something about them that seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember where he’d heard them before. Keigo felt like asking, but he also didn’t want to get the same look that Touya had given him when he’d learnt Keigo couldn’t read. He was only young, so of course there were things he didn’t know yet.

“What is it?” Touya asked, interrupting Keigo’s thoughts. “I can hear your mind going into overdrive from over here.”

“Oh, um… will you get mad… if I don’t know what something is?”

“No? Why would I?”

“You seemed upset when you found out I couldn’t read.” Keigo said.

Touya threw an apologetic look his way. “Sorry, I was just surprised that’s all. Every kid I know can read, so I never expected to come across one that couldn’t.”

“So… you won’t get mad?”

Touya sighed. “No, Keigo, I won’t get mad.”

Keigo hesitated, grateful when Touya didn’t try to push him into speaking before he was ready. After a moment, Keigo spoke. “What’s a hero?”

Silence followed his question, but Keigo noticed that it was only because Touya looked like he was thinking hard instead of judging him like he’d initially thought the boy would. Keigo remembered how just a moment ago, Touya had tried to explain to him what an outskirt was, and realized then that the boy was trying to find a way of explaining it while also making sure that Keigo actually understood what was being said. “A hero is…” Touya began slowly, a thoughtful frown on his face. “A hero is a person that does good things. They help people that need it and protect them from bad people—we call those bad people ‘villains’ by the way—and make sure that the places we live are safe. Heroes are strong, so very, very strong! My dad is the Number Two hero, which means he’s one of the strongest people in the country!” A look crossed Touya’s face that Keigo couldn’t recognize. “I want to be a hero too, but my family says my body is no good for it. But I’m not going to let that stop me! I’ll become a hero no matter what they say! I’ll show them! I’ll train super hard and become even stronger than my dad!”

Keigo nodded, in awe of what the other boy was saying. He didn’t quite understand Touya’s words about his father being the ‘Number Two’ hero, nor did he understand why Touya couldn’t be a hero; his body looked fine to Keigo’s eyes. But he did manage to understand that heroes were people that did good things, and that villains were people that did bad things. He thought back to what he knew of the world, slotting this new information into his memories until he was sure he had it right.

His father had always told him the police were bad people doing bad things, which meant that the police must’ve been… villains? Did that mean his dad was a hero? Touya had said that heroes did good things, but Keigo couldn’t remember a recent time where his father had done something good—other than that one time where he’d come to Keigo’s rescue. Keigo shook his head, he’d just ask his father when he finally found his way home, that way he would know for sure, if his father was a hero or not.

“I think I understand.” Keigo said when Touya had fallen silent. “Heroes do good things and villains do bad things. So, since you’re helping me, you must be a hero, Touya!”

Touya stopped and blinked, the shocked expression returning to his face. Keigo frowned. Had he said something wrong? But then tears welled in Touya’s eyes and Keigo flinched; he hadn’t meant to make Touya cry. Keigo hated it when people cried because of him. “I’m… sorry? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“N-No, it’s fine.” Touya sniffed. “You’re the first person to think I’m a hero, so I got happy. Mom says I cry easy, but don’t worry. They’re happy tears. Anyway, lets get you home, Keigo!”

Keigo blinked as Touya grabbed his hand, his feathers ruffling underneath at the warmth that was emanating from the contact. It was warmer than any other hand he’d held before, but not unbearably so. It felt like he had the sun in the palm of his hand, and he found he didn’t want to let go, not that Touya seemed likely to do that anytime soon. Keigo, reassured now, used the opportunity to take in his surroundings, that way, if he ended up over this way again in the future, he’d know how to get home. Suddenly, Keigo felt sad. This forest of trees and dirt was so far from where he and his father resided that he doubted he’d be able to come back anyway; he’d only managed to get there by running anyway. And besides, it wasn’t like Touya was going to be here if he came back anyway.

Despite only knowing Touya for not even a day, Keigo felt like he could trust the other boy. There was just something about him that Keigo couldn’t place that told him so. It was a feeling not unfamiliar to him, but one that he didn’t know the name of, not yet anyway. Maybe if he met Touya again after today, he’d ask him, and see if Touya felt a similar feeling towards him.

Keigo found himself wanting to become friends with Touya, even though it was impossible.

Touya continued to tug Keigo along behind him, even as the forest slowly began to disappear and buildings began to surround them once again. Keigo kept looking, trying to find some sort of familiarity that would tell him how to get home, and while some of the buildings looked vaguely familiar, it wasn’t enough for Keigo to be confident.

“Have you been here before, Touya?” Keigo asked, surprised at how easily Touya was navigating the streets, the boy stopping every now and then to read the signposts that must’ve been the name of the streets.

“Only a few times. My family doesn’t really go out unless we have to, but I’ve looked at maps before.” Touya said.

“What’s a map?” Keigo asked.

“Uh… it’s a piece of paper that shows you where you are.” Touya explained, the thoughtful look returning to his face, although it quickly disappeared as a smile covered it instead. “I know, I’ll bring one with me next time we see each other. And a book! Then I can show you the things you don’t understand.”

“Next time…?” Keigo’s voice was quiet. As much as he’d to have a next time, he wasn’t sure if there would ever be one. “You want to see me again?”

“Sure.” Touya flashed him a grin. “I can’t just sit by let you get through life not knowing how to read. That’d be unheroic of me.”

Keigo couldn’t help but smile. He opened his mouth to tell Touya that he couldn’t wait for them to meet again, no matter how long it took, when he spotted a familiar building from the corner of his eye. “I know where I am!”

“Oh, really?”

Keigo nodded, lifting his arm to point at the really tall building that overshadowed the other buildings. “Yeah! I can find my way home now. Thank you, Touya!”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you all the way home?” Touya asked, directing a worried look towards Keigo.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, my father doesn’t like surprise visitors.” Keigo shrugged. He walked a few steps, intending to head towards home—the sun was starting to set now, which meant that he’d be able to sneak back inside his home—when he paused and looked back towards Touya; his companion standing there looking disappointed. Keigo thought for just a moment before he threw himself at Touya, wrapping his arms around Touya’s neck. “I don’t know when we’ll meet again, but I hope its soon!”

Touya returned the embrace. “Be careful, Keigo.”

Keigo nodded, pulling away from Touya before he decided that he’d much rather stay in it, and began walking down the street. All the while, he fought the urge to look over his shoulder, knowing that if he did so, then he’d never want to leave his new friend; because that was what Touya was to him. Keigo shuddered at the thought, knowing that if he wanted to keep Touya as a friend, he would have to keep it a secret from his father. The memory of the bloodstained body of a child flashed across his mind. No. Touya was going to be Keigo’s little secret.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hawks #dabi #keigo takami #touya todoroki #childhood friends au

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