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valentine-writes · 8 months

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ur writing is super good!! sorry if i’m piling on with this, but any angst with miguel? i need this man put in a blender

if you need to be mean

「 tws + notes: vv possibly ooc, unedited, spider-person reader, unhealthy dynamic, assorted angst, hurt/comfort ending, reader is cold, miguel doesn't know how to deal with emotions, everyone is a wreck but they're all trying so hard :( </3 」

「 gn!reader, man idek if this is platonic or romantic tbh y'all r just messy here 」

↳ ft. miguel o'hara/spider-man 2099

author's note: THANK U SM!! and i got u!!! i am. so excited 2 practice more for him– anon please don't be upset w/ me,, but,,, (´∩｀。),,, i physically don't think i can write Pure Angst. i wud b no good at it!! :p so! hurt/comfort in the end ๐·°(৹˃̵﹏˂̵৹)°·๐ i CANT JUS,, END IT SAD,, </3 i am so so sorry!! also so so real putting him in tha blender at the Highest Speed ever,,, he iz my milk webkin fr (lovingly) (kinda) some real quick stuff: this was gonna b short but i Overdid It and im still unsure whether i like it or not. and also. i was supposed to have the reader being mildly Messed Up™️ too cuz "hehehehe letz make this more difficult >:))" (also becuz miguel is NOT the only one allowed to have issues + too many angsts i have read where reader jus takes what miguel dishes out passively and i didn't want that) BUT I ENDED UP MAKING IT WORSE AJDHDQWHJE,,, hopefully this is. angst galore. again i am not great w this <( _ _ )> <//3

▸ maintaining a healthy relationship with miguel– in any form– proves to be difficult.

this is especially prevalent in the beginning stages of your developing relationship. you begin to learn that he is terrible with verbally expressing any affection he feels towards you. some days he seems almost so completely distant that there’s valid reason to worry that he just doesn't care about you anymore.

these worries are the furthest thing from the truth– miguel hasn't cared about someone to this extent in a while. still, he finds himself lacking, completely unable to tell you how much you mean to him.

▸ sometimes he grows fearful that he's become too attached to you. he aware he's in too deep at this point, yet conflict rages on in his mind: whether it's better to hold on as tight as he can to keep you in his life, or let you go before something rips you away from him.

part of him is worried it's only a matter of time before something happens.

these thoughts are usually quelled by drowning himself in tasks and missions, using his focus on work as a means of distraction.

when there's nothing left to shut them out, he chooses to avoid you instead of seeking reassurance.

there are times when you don't see him for days straight. he doesn't send you on any missions, doesn't contact you, actively avoids you when you're inside of the HQ– and when you eventually see him again, he avoids speaking of it. you both understand you're meant to pretend like nothing happened.

you're not beyond doing the same to him. miguel is distraught with how similar you two can be, how you reflect him and he reflects you in unique and awful ways– ways that only the two of you can understand.

▸ whenever you choose to be the one to spontaneously ditch, however,,, there are moments where he gets desperate and ends with him seeking you out,, usually by assigning you a mission just so you have a reason to come back

no matter who leaves– whether it's you or miguel– you both end up taking each other back in the end, half-heartedly reaching the unspoken agreement that this is the way you two “reconcile.” you grow accustomed to this back and forth.

you're both wonder who this is hurting more.

▸ never wants to be seen as clingy or needy. wants to convince himself he can make it on his own, that things are somehow better that way. miguel feels a deep frustration in the fact that he can't seem to process his emotions in a proper manner.

he seeks solace in solitude, even if it never fully works. he's willing to settle with feeling "okay" instead of "better." (self isolation moment.)

asking for help on missions is one thing. asking for personal help is another, which means that offering him support on his bad days is always a hit or miss.

most of the time, if someone chooses to extend their hand to him, it's typical that he swats it away and insists he doesn't need anything. he doesn't accept help easily– even when it's from you.

▸ there's always the off chance he lets you stick around. he's silent as you find a place for the two of you to sit down. once he’s comfortable, he leans against your side.

the quiet in the room isn't tense. it isn't scary. you know he just doesn't want to talk about what’s bothering him often. he can't even verbalize how much you mean to him– how is he meant to explain any of his other emotions to you?

"it's okay." you whisper, breaking the silence in the room. "just... take your time."

even though your words are as soft you can manage, it feels like you're yelling in contrast to his complete wordless state. you glance over at him. miguel doesn't meet your gaze.

"i'll be here for you," his expression softens ever so slightly at your words as you reassure him, "i promise."

he only mutters one word in response: "don't."

▸ (next headcanon based off of this art from instagram. slide two specifically.)

you can still remember the first time he ever cried in front of you. it's been a vivid memory in your head ever since it happened– not because of why it happened– but because of how it happened.

"you haven't been around for days, miguel." it's been almost more than a week since you've last seen him. this time, you sought him out– not to bring him back into your life, but to confront him one last time. after deliberating for longer than you cared to mention, you finally decided you were going to make things right or get out of his life for good.

and there he is, standing on his platform. it's lowered to the ground, the orange holographic screens surrounding him empty, displaying nothing. they emit a soft glow in the dark of the room.

"tell me what's wrong." you demand. the tone in your voice is unfamiliar to him. you're not making any effort to conceal how thin your patience has been wearing.

his back is turned to you. he doesn't say a word until you approach the lowered platform he stands on.

"go away."

"what? like you've been doing this entire time?" you retort.

"go away." he repeats more forcefully. his anger doesn't scare you away. nothing ever does.

you stare at him unflinchingly. "not until you tell me what's wrong."

miguel knows you're going to stand firm. you're going to stay until he tells you. as he lifts his head, glancing over his shoulder to speak to you, you brace yourself– you wait for him to yell. to lash out. anything.

he just looked at you. his eyes, stinging with tears, meeting your stare.

you don't remember what was hurting him that day. you can't recall what made him breakdown in front of you. no, this is the part you remember.

miguel's large frame looks so much smaller as he attempts to shrink himself, as if trying to hide from you. he averts his gaze, trying to blink back the tears and fails horribly.

he has nothing left to do. miguel hides his face in his hand, even if it’s only the two of you in the room. he’s humiliated– completely ashamed– that he can’t seem to stop his crying. for a moment, you’re frozen, unsure of what to do.

it's a drastic change from how you know him. standing in front of you, miguel seems more like an inconsolable child, rather than the detached and icy person most knew him as.

"don't look at me." those are the only audible words miguel manages to choke out between stifled sobs. he cries like a little boy.

and you hate it. you hate how hard he makes it hard to stay angry at him. you hate that no matter what you do, you can't stay away.

the tension in your body dissolves slowly, jaw unclenching as you sigh to yourself. you’re caving already.

it takes you a moment, but you know you can't leave him like this.

slowly approaching him, you quietly wrap your arms around him from behind, gentle enough for him to pull away from your touch if he didn't want it. he doesn't protest. you swear you can feel him subconsciously lean in.

"it's okay," you mutter, "i got you."

▸ miguel makes sure to talk to you the next day after you comforted him. to your surprise, it wasn't to tell you to keep that moment between the two of you– he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't say a word.

he was there to say thank you. simple and plain as that. he thanked you for sticking around. thanked you for being there even though he constantly pushed you away.

and you couldn't find the energy to respond. horribly disheartening to miguel, considering this is the most effort he had put in to communicate with you– but understandable. he didn't push you any further.

as awful as it felt to know, you didn't want a thank you. you didn't need his gratitude for your stubbornness.

it was much too late for a thank you to resolve the days he left you without a word, only to return expecting everything to be the same. it was much too late for a thank you to make you feel better about the fact you ended up comforting him even after everything. those words couldn't fix anything.

you wanted a goddamn apology.

▸ it's been almost three weeks since you'd last been seen around the spider society hq.

nobody seemed to be aware of the reason for your sudden disappearance. miguel was worried sick.

his temper is shorter, his patience is waning, and he’s willing to snap if anyone even mildly irritates him. it’s an unpleasant experience for everyone.

he'd tried to find you by tracking your watch, which proved to be useless. you were too clever for that– you'd made yourself undetectable, somehow disabling or destroying it before you left. miguel could’ve hunted you down, searching every place in the multiverse to find you again, once more to see you. but he didn't have to. the moment he had decided to start the search, your watch went active again, allowing him to locate where you were. like you were beckoning him over.

he didn’t hesitate to meet you there, stepping through a portal to get to you. notably, you weren’t in your own universe– but he wasn’t going to scold you for that. not now.

there you were. it was almost dream-like to him, seeing you sitting in the grassy fields in the middle of nowhere, the outline of your frame illuminated by the moonlight. the night air was filled with tension, as you sensed him approach from behind and quietly sit beside you.

he’s the one to break the silence. your name slips from his lips, as he’s about to speak up–

"hey." you greeted flatly, cutting him off. you glance at him with a weak smile, chuckling dryly. "so... you need something?"

"...no." miguel glanced around at the unfamiliar setting. just before he can get anything out, you part your lips to speak again, looking up at the dark sky, glittering above the two of you.

“i forget that new york doesn’t have the best view of the stars.” you murmur. “light pollution and all that shit… so y’know,, this is nice. i missed this type of view.”

he nods in agreement, though the small talk about the stars isn’t what he wanted from you.

you continue with your little ramble, seemingly just saying whatever came to mind. “speaking of cities– how’s your corner of the multiverse been? has nueva york been fine? feels like forever since i’ve been there.”

miguel tries not to be distracted by your casual conversation or your obvious allusions to your absence. he sees the way your shoulders are held tense, the way your gaze flits over at him expectantly– miguel knows you’re just waiting for him to talk about it, anticipating what he’s oing to say next.

"i– look–” he takes in a breath, finding the words he had been planning to say all this time. “i know. i know i messed up, and i messed up a lot. …i just came here to tell you i'm sorry. for everything."

there’s a momentary lapse of silence between the two of you. the tension is immeasurable as he watches you shift your sitting position, facing him entirely.

"you should be. asshole."

miguel sighs. “i… really should’ve expected that.”

“you know, migs? i tried so hard to just leave you alone.” the previous confidence in your voice wavers. there’s no bitterness in your words, no malice. he hears it in your tone: you’re just worn down, utterly emotionally exhausted.

he hears a sniffle, causing him to turn his full attention to you. the tears glisten as they fall from your eyes and drip down your cheeks. you make no attempt to shy away.

“what are we gonna do now?” you ask, looking over at him. your voice is faint. small. “i can’t let you go– and for fuck’s sake, you won’t even let me– so… what now?”

“i… don’t know.” he confesses. his hand makes his way to yours, placed atop it. his other wipes your tears away, trembling as he touches your cheek with all the tenderness there is, like he’s afraid he might hurt you. he whispers your name again, and it is the sweetest sound you’ve heard in a while.

miguel usually thinks he’s no good at comforting others. but in this moment, you would’ve never known that. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into an embrace, holding you in his arms like you’re the most precious thing in the world. he’s not leaving you to suffer alone. he’s not leaving you like that ever again.

“you don’t have to forgive me.” he whispers to you. miguel knows he can’t repair all the damage he’s done. he knows you might never be able to look at him the same. And for once, he’s fine with that. he just needs to know you’ll be okay. “...just, please. let me do this for you.”

#i haven't decided whether i hate this or not #BUT WOWOWOWOW baby's first angsty angst.... this is. something!!#hope y'all dont mind reader's personality here. if given no directions 9/10 times i jus go “hmm but what wud i do here....”#anon i am so sorry if this is disappointing AJDHEJDHWE #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #angst #atsv x reader #atsv headcanons #atsv #across the spider verse spoilers #spider man: across the spider verse

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itsclydebitches · 2 years

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RWBY Ice Queendom Recaps: “Red, White, Black, Yellow”

Hello, RWBY fandom! It feels good to be back.

Technically I never left — still answering the occasional ask, just finished up "The Girl in the Tower" recap — but between the extra long hiatus and my continuing obsession with Our Flag Means Death, it feels like I've been out of the RWBY loop for a while. I wanted to start this post with that acknowledgement because I had assumed that's why I didn't realize that Ice Queendom had dropped the first three episodes. Sure, I got an anon asking my opinion of the reboot (AU? Rewrite? We're all a little unclear about that still), but I had thought that was just in preparation for the July 3rd premiere. So imagine my surprise when I did a bit of googling last night — just in case — and found a new trailer, then a three episode sneak peak, but it weirdly wasn’t on First, but it was on Crunchyroll, and (at the time) it was set to drop on YouTube at 1:00pm today, but only for a short period? Some fans had clearly seen the episodes already, yet there wasn't nearly the amount of posting I'd expect for a community-wide, anticipated drop, and official information seemed to be scarce ... but surely my confusion was simply a result of me taking a semi-break from keeping up with all RWBY info, right?

Ehhh...

This is an excerpt from MurderOfBirds’ tweet thread (URL posted at the end of the recap, in case tumblr is still being weird about links) and, if you've been in the RWBY community for any significant length of time, you'll understand my shock that he of all fans was calling RT out like this. To be honest, I don't have much to say beyond, "This is happening"? From what little I've gathered, fans seem to have enjoyed the IQ premiere — or at least, they haven't called for a salt and burning yet — but RT's relative success in that regard doesn't suddenly erase all the other problems surrounding RWBY as a franchise. RTX planning remains a mess, communication about upcoming projects is shoddy at best, RT's company culture is continually under fire, worries about Volume 9 and the upcoming video game haven't disappeared just because we've had little reason to discuss them lately, etc. Regardless of what we think about IQ as a story, it's coming into a tumultuous IP — to put it mildly.

Again, I fully acknowledge that I haven't been actively seeking out every bit of RWBY info lately, but the fact that I, someone who is generally working to keep up with the story, had to suddenly scramble to figure out how and when and why a big chunk of the new installment was releasing now is... not great. And apparently I'm not the only one who feels this way.

That said, let's get into the story proper. In case it's not abundantly obvious by the title, I've decided to keep these recaps separated by episode, despite 1-3 releasing as a single hour of content. You all know I can write enough for each, even with a lot of this plot being repeated. No sense in giving you all a dissertation to wade through lol.

Let's do it!

We begin, as we did originally, with Salem's voice-over telling us how the humanity of today came to be.

(Oh yay, a nice het-centric creation myth. Look, I really wasn't joking about being obsessed with OFMD right now. After months of canonical queer pirates, I'm feeling a little salty towards RWBY's version of queer rep. I won't get over it, sorry, but I promise I won't bitch about it too much.)

(Actually wait, one more point: I saw a post here — which I’ve now lost — where the author didn't seem terribly enthusiastic about IQ, but they said they'd forgive it if Blake and Yang made out in every upcoming scene and like yeah, joke-y posts are jokey-y, I love them, but AS IF. If IQ confirms Bumbleby I'll just straight up die of shock. You all can @ me in the afterlife.)

(But oh god can you IMAGINE if IQ confirmed the fandom's biggest ship before the webseries? Chaos. Calamity. An actual, defensible position for IQ being better. It would be a complete disaster, yeah... but potentially an entertaining one.)

Anyway, back to the plot. We go through a version of our opening speech and, frankly, I don't think the actress playing Salem sounds nearly as menacing as Taylor does. I've always cared more about the characters themselves than the actors playing them, so I don't have any big opinions on the casting here. This is just a little acknowledgement that, had I been watching IQ prior to RWBY, I never would have gone, "Oh, this is our villain" like I did during the webseries’ opening. At least not until the end of the episode when we get the more threatening dialogue. Regardless, the animation more than makes up for that, showing us not merely the paper-like history of humanity, grimm, and the rise of their combat capabilities, but far more visceral images like a man collapsing amidst a field of flames, very nearly succumbing to them. That sells the idea of humanity almost crumbling back to dust.

But then, “The smallest spark of hope brought forth a great light” and humanity discovers capital 'D' Dust, which allows them to maintain and spread civilization despite the grimm. Salem says that it was through their “power and ingenuity” that they secured it and I'm like... really? Because the animation just shows an almost-dead guy stumbling upon a glowing rock in the ground and presumably thinking, "Hey, that might be useful." Not sure there's much power and ingenuity in randomly finding a magic mineral lol.

With the history lesson out of the way, we find Ruby at Summer's grave with... a military-like march soundtrack? It's an intriguing choice and, combined with Ozpin’s introduction + Weiss' AU design, I'm curious to see how much this story will feed into RWBY's (badly managed) anti-military themes. Though introducing our simple soul protagonist with that vibe doesn't seem like a great start...

What is done well is the character work in this scene. Actually, that's something I want to praise about the episode as a whole: IQ is very good (so far) at developing the cast and the world, something it absolutely has over the original RWBY. Remnant feels lived in, the characters' stories are better intertwined — helped by making this episode a combination of the trailers and “Ruby Rose” — and I actually feel like they have internal lives they're living, rather than just existing as archetypal puppets under the Rule of Cool's strings. Sure, RWBY gets better at that as time goes on — I wouldn't care about the early Volumes like I do if the characters didn't feel engaging to me — but IQ nails it right from the start.

Case in point, Ruby isn't just staring at a mysterious grave that was added last minute because hell, why not. She's really talking to Summer, telling her all about how Yang made it into Beacon Academy and that she "always said she wanted to be a huntress." Such a small line of dialogue and yet suddenly Yang’s motivations better align with Ruby's. Rather than being the party girl just out for a good time (the club scene doesn't even make it into this episode, if it shows up at all), Yang always wanted to be a huntress, specifically — just like their mom. It stabilizes Yang's career path and helps sell the idea that one primary, personal conflict is how Ruby will break away from her sister's shadow: she's talking to Summer primarily about her "sis," she wants to be a huntress just like Yang, she's kinda jealous that Yang is already on her way — a nice detail that makes Ruby feel like a legit person with complex emotions — Tai is worried about his youngest standing on her own, and meanwhile Ruby is asking her mom, “What can I do to be more like [Yang]?” Frankly, this scene sells the idea of Yang raising and influencing Ruby far more than the entirety of Volumes 1 and 2 did. We can see how Yang has become the mother figure that Ruby is desperate to emulate, even as she says she also wants to follow in Summer's footsteps. From Yang and Tai talking about Ruby like they're the parents waiting on their wayward child, to the hug where Ruby is positioned more like the child as Yang holds her and looks to Summer —

I feel like the show has visually told me that Yang helped raise Ruby, episodes before we get to that talk with Blake. Sure, they're absolutely still playful sisters — and Yang calls Summer "Mom." No Raven complications just yet — but IQ changes the dynamic slightly, making Yang come across as more mature and, consequentially, more of a mentor figure for Ruby. Yang is someone Ruby needs to eventually step away from in order to forge her own path.

Also, love that they give them the exact same wink. Again, they're close and we can see Ruby mimicking some of Yang's mannerisms:

However, this is perhaps as good a time as any to admit that I don't really like the character designs? Outside of their normal outfits/distinguishing features, of course. I mentioned weeks back that I find their eyes to be creepy as hell and though I realize now that's a visual staple of the creator's... it doesn't change that I think they're creepy lol. Worse, there's something very doll-like about the models that makes my skin crawl. It's not too bad when we've got a fight sequence going on, but when Ruby is just standing there with her unnatural eyes, glossed lips, painted cheeks, kinda shiny skin like she might be made of porcelain...

Yeesh.

I don't know. I'm assuming this is purely a me problem (no doubt born from too many horror movies in my youth) and not every shot is bad! But some definitely make my brain go, "Nope, nope, nope, NOPE" in a very Uncanny Valley kind of way.

I mean sure, the animation quality is undoubtedly better, but original Ruby just looks more... real to me? You know? Does anyone else get that?

Yeah, I can't explain it well. It’s fine. Just don't let IQ!Ruby into my room at night, please.

We cut to Weiss standing before the garden monument — which I've only now realized is kinda weird. Who gives a snowflake wings? — and she's approached by Klein who is, for all intents and purposes so far, a totally different character. There's no sign of his semblance (no real loss imo) and he's far more formal — deferential — towards Weiss than he’s ever been in the webseries. Gone is the chaotic, buddy-buddy dynamic they had and in its place is the far more common “Play-by-the-rules butler has a soft spot for the young mistress, allowing for a bit of parental love to shine through.” Think Carson with Lady Mary. Or even Alfred with Bruce. Though I’m personally a big fan of this character type—I’m an absolute sucker for love pushing up against class/social expectations/job formalities—this is a case where IQ arguably moves backwards. Rather than introducing a bit of depth like we saw between Ruby and Yang, we’ve reverted to a far simpler setup. Which, I want to emphasize, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I don’t think Klein is important enough to necessitate that creativity when being a fond, long-suffering butler serves the story just as well. It’s just an observation that they have stripped him of what made him stand out from the butler crowd.

He tells Weiss that the “arrangements” have been made and they walk together to the ballroom where her final test is to take place. On the way we spot a day-drinking Willow from behind and the shot reminds me a bit of the comic panels:

and we also run into Whitley, still leaning smugly against the wall like he did in the webseries. This time though I’m reading him through the lens of the kid he is, rather than the scheming, Jacques Jr. that both stories seem to be going for. See: Whitley smirking from the shadows while Weiss walks through beams of beautiful light, finally settling between the pillars in the full sun. It’s not subtle.

This is one of a couple split-screens in our opening episode and though it’s a technique the webseries has made use of recently (think the Team RWBY vs. Ace Ops fight), personally it’s something that I think should be used sparingly. Like here, do we really need to get Klein’s reaction and, in the process, see the awkwardness of Weiss with half a face? Or, in a moment, a shot of her boots?

Next to the contrast of Weiss and Whitley, which actually serves a narrative purpose, these just feel unnecessary. Technique for the sake of technique.

We also get a shot of the family portrait as Weiss passes by. Nothing detailed unless you pause the episode, but it's a glimpse of that supposedly picture-perfect family right before we see it unravel. Whitley questions Weiss’ ability to pass this test, she tells him to just watch her do it, and then we get what I think is a damn solid line:

“I’ve always watched you, my fearless, foolish sisters."

We’ve got the story introducing that there's a third sibling before we see Winter at the test. There’s Whitley's quiet admission that yes, he's been watching them (looking up to them) for, presumably, years. Also an acknowledgement of those complicated emotions tied up in their choice to not just become Huntresses, but to use the career as a means of escaping their father's abuse when he, someone without combat skills, can't follow them. Is it foolish then, or fearless? Depends entirely on whether you have that option to begin with. This is a Whitley who, right from the start, feels like a kid struggling under an inability to follow in his sisters' footsteps, despite how the animation paints him as the shadowy antagonist, with the concept of paths and having to carve out your own tying in nicely with Blake's story.

Weiss arrives at the test where both Winter and Jacques are waiting for her. It puts them on fairly even footing — both watching this dangerous battle with detachment, both taking up the same position on opposite sides of the room — despite the fact that verbally Winter is more supportive of Weiss than Jacques has ever been in his life. Still, that parallel combined with Winter being "too busy" when Weiss leaves for Beacon and her cold approach to training her in the flashback makes this version of Winter seem far less welcoming than the original. “The powerless return to dust. That is the law of this world” she tells Weiss after she fails to defeat all of her summons (as seen in the Volume 5 short) and while that is a very cool line that hints at how Remnant's history has influenced the peoples’ philosophy, it’s also a damn bit more dismissive than Weiss promising to do better and Winter saying only that she hopes she can — she'll need it to escape. I can't imagine this Winter playfully batting Weiss' head and demanding information about the friends she's made.

I do want to emphasize that Weiss' entire story is much clearer for the audience though. We're told exactly who all these people are (at least in relation to one another). We've established that Weiss is undergoing a test to get into Beacon. We have a line about Klein releasing the grimm, right on the heels of our intro explaining wtf grimm are, and oh look, now she's fighting it. All of "Red, White, Black, Yellow" flows together more smoothly than the trailers + "Ruby Rose” do, meaning there's no mad scramble to, say, explain to the community that this is a flashback, Weiss got that scar during her fight—look, there’s a bit of blood—she’s singing on her father’s orders, yeah idk why exactly it’s just a thing she does, mhmm the fight is a test to get into Beacon, etc. I didn’t come into RWBY until Volume 3, but I remember finding old posts that worked to clarify the iffy canon of our trailers (and, indeed, acknowledging that some details like Ruby’s strength against the grimm remain in the realm of “Not canon, actually”) as well as explaining what precisely happened in each. None of that is necessary here. The only thing the scene doesn’t clarify is how a suit of armor is also a grimm, but failing to get into the possession abilities is small potatoes compared to the potential confusion we started out with.

Yet despite the obvious benefits of that clarity, the fight itself is just… fine? Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing bad about it—except, perhaps, the weird glyph sound effects that I personally hate—yet even following much of the original choreography, I didn’t have an emotional investment in this fight like I did the White Trailer. I think a great deal of that comes down to the music. Though I’ve always agreed that the soundtrack is a huge part of RWBY’s personality, I didn’t realize quite how much of the emotion it carried until it was gone. The generic battle music of IQ just can’t compare to hearing

Mirror, mirror

Tell me something,

Who’s the loneliest of all?

…I’m the loneliest of all.

while Weiss is framed in front of the broken moon, expression stony, this epic moment inter-cut with her future self belting this lament, all right before she drives through the knight and lands, perfectly confident in her victory.

IQ!Weiss technically has the same combat beats of the original fight (with the exception of the knight’s sword nearly crushing Klein??), but it’s a completely different vibe. IQ!Weiss feels frantic at the end to me and her getting to coldly demand the Beacon reward from her father is a one-up moment that doesn’t jive with, say, Weiss later trying to muster up a fake smile in the elevator to convince her family that everything’s fine. She feels too confident, like she’s already won against Jacques and RWBY!Weiss’ journey (marred as it was by Volume 8) isn’t even on the table anymore. And, you know, maybe it’s not. Though the changes are subtle so far, this is already a very different version of Weiss. Personally, I prefer the theme of loneliness in the original: Weiss standing as the knight is obliterated behind her, bloody face fading into someone who, despite this victory, is still left standing there, alone on stage, performing for her father. She won the battle, but is still fighting the war.

(Gotta love shots like this though. The size difference! The scale! The seemingly insurmountable challenge!)

With a red leaf that looks a lot like a rose petal flying by—nice—we transition to Blake who is…

…Naruto running with Adam?

alksdfjalsjfa okay, cool.

Their section is pretty similar to the Black Trailer, though this time around Blake’s decision to leave feels like it’s really coming out of left field. I mean, she questions whether they’ll be fighting actual people, but Adam reframes that around Blake’s courage and there’s no visual cue from her that he’s wrong about that. Then we get a seemingly sweet moment where she doesn’t even look at the Atlas soldier behind her, knowing Adam’s got her back

and though she’s clearly not happy about Adam crashing the train when there are people on board, Blake doesn’t have that much of a reaction to it. She just walks over to the next car and severs the connection, leaving the audience with Adam’s supremely awkward line, “Are you betraying me? Betraying the White Fang?”

Easily the worst part of the episode for me 😬 You know you haven’t written a scene well when a character has to spell things out in the most heavy-handed way possible.

To be honest, I’ve always found the Black Trailer to be the weakest of the bunch and I don’t think IQ has succeeded in improving on it. If anything, I think having Blake sneak away while Adam is busy with the mech, only for him and the audience to both realize she’s on a different, separated car works better than… this. I suppose neither version really sells me on the idea that this was a breaking point for Blake and if it wasn’t, why leave now, right in the middle of a mission? Compared to the clarity of our other stories, Blake’s remains lacking in some respects.

We get to Ruby’s Dust shop robbery and, given that we’ve just gone through two of the trailers, I’m a little disappointed that the Red Trailer wasn’t included. Certainly it’s the least plot connected of the four and yes, they’ve done away with Yang’s too, but Ruby taking out a horde of grimm under a shattered moon is the defining image of the franchise—at least for me. It’s not just what IQ decided to cut out though. Like Weiss’ fight sending a very different message thanks to the time spent on clarifying her test and its consequences, the development of Ruby’s character pre-robbery means that we’ve lost the appealing surprise of who she really is. What I mean is, outside of the Red Trailer, the moment Ruby turns—tiny, bright-eyed, sporting headphones and a weapons magazine—is our first introduction to her and that particular image contrasts wonderfully with her kicking that goon to hell and back. I mean sure, we already know how such “surprises” work (especially in a combat webseries. It’s not really a surprise), but I still love the (supposed) shock of this child being cornered, but then turning around and kicking ass.

That doesn’t happen in IQ precisely because the show does a better job of developing Ruby beforehand. We’ve already watched her tell Summer about how she might be getting bad grades, but she’s an expert with weapons. She’s already visited a weapons store before popping into the Dust shop.

She’s already gushed over the weapons magazine and even quoted from it, rather than that existing purely as a background detail for the audience to catch. Hell, we’ve already seen Crescent Rose, at least in its compact state, which makes the robbery “reveal” no longer a reveal at all. There’s no, “Oh cool the vulnerable kid is actually a badass fighter! And she’s got a scythe!!” reaction because the show has established that as a firm part of Ruby’s characterization. We know about Yang and Beacon and Ruby’s long-term combat goals. This

just doesn’t have the same impact anymore.

It’s the same with Zwei. Do I love seeing my favorite pupper right in the first episode? Hell yeah. Have we now lost the opportunity to introduce him through the mail—another iconic RWBY moment? Also yeah.

Which, again, is not automatically a bad thing. This isn’t a case of “Choice A works, but Choice B doesn’t.” Although IQ’s timeline is arguably a more productive way to write a long-term story, in inevitably comparing it to the webseries, I can’t help but notice that we’ve lost a certain absurdity and, well, fun that’s a part of RWBY’s charm.

(That’s an awesome shot though. Love the lighting.)

So Ruby works her way through the goons—a combat sequence I quite enjoyed. Very liberal on the crunchy faces. Looked painful—and Roman runs through most of his original lines. This time he does comment, “Semblance? A Beacon Academy student?” when Ruby busts out the window, which both hints at the fact that semblances might be comparatively rare (remember that Roman doesn’t have one) and, by extension, highlights Ruby’s innate abilities. The fact that Roman assumes she must go to Beacon implies that only someone two years older than her could pull that kind of control off. Ruby, as the talented protagonist, has managed this early.

Roman throws his smoke bomb, runs up the building, Ruby follows him… calls him a thief even though technically he didn’t take any of the Dust with him lol. While they’re on the roof, Tai, Yang, and Zwei arrive on the scene, having grown worried when Ruby failed to return home at a normal time.

(Why is that clock so cool and why don’t I own it.)

Again, IQ does a really great job of fleshing out the world and the characters’ relationships, especially in just 20 minutes. I love that Ruby was out looking for a present for Yang (still bitter we never got to see what she bought her in Volume 6), that Yang and Tai have this conversation about Ruby’s growth, Zwei is being used as a bloodhound to track her, the fact that yeah, of course there are other civilians about and the police were called on scene.

Personally, I think there’s a nostalgic charm to RWBY’s shadow people, but it’s still true to say that animating actual characters responding to situations goes a long way towards making your world feel lived in.

Also, can I just SHOUT FROM THE ROOFTOPS that Tai is out looking for his daughter? I never cared about his character much until post-Volume 3 when the fandom started dragging him for… well, everything. How dare you make a joke your daughter clearly loved. How dare you tell her the truth in an effort to keep her from losing another limb—or her life. (Which, I will always point out now, happened! Yang stupidly jumped in front of Ruby, just like she stupidly charged Adam, and Neo killed her!! You have a ranged weapon, Yang, oh my god—) How dare you fail to follow one kid while the other is at home with severe depression. How dare you not follow both when [checks notes] you’re not a part of the primary plot. Tai really went the way of Ozpin and Ironwood (pre-Volume 8 Ironwood, anyway) where potential mistakes are declared unforgivable sins and… that’s it. You’re Remnant’s #1 Worst Dad. Sucks to be you.

So hell yeah, good on IQ for reminding everyone that Tai, even an AU Tai, is of course worried sick over his missing kid and will do whatever he can to help her. Double kudos for managing that alongside a slight increase in mom!Yang energy.

Glynda (my beloved) shows up and does her thing. Cinder never comes out to fight them, but we still see her piloting the airship, which is interesting. At least, it is to me given that I’d assumed going into IQ that a lot of the larger plot-lines would be dropped in favor of the new story: the White Fang, Cinder’s lust for power, even Salem herself. Obviously that’s not the case, so now I’m wondering if IQ is like an interlude type story? We get a mostly-the-same Volumes 1-2, then a totally new adventure, then the implication that the characters go back to a version of the original tale with Relics, Maidens, la de da? We’ll have to see.

After Ruby DOESN’T ask for Glynda’s autograph (tragic) and she’s getting her lecture while Tai and Yang wait at the station, Ozpin shows up to… salutes?

That’s a choice.

You know how I was saying that Whitley’s characterization feels more in line with where he’ll end up several Volumes later? Well, Ozpin’s characterization feels more in line with where the show says he ends up several Volumes later… even though they never actually wrote that. Meaning, this is an Ozpin introduction that actually implies an ulterior, morally gray motive. This is a guy that does feel sketchy to me.

Let’s tally the details.

Ozpin arrives at the station—now overtly a police station and not the ambiguous closet of the webseries—and is saluted by everyone there. He doesn’t wave the formality aside with discomfort or anything, but takes it as a given. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that was Ironwood walking into the room.

He still gives Ruby cookies, but this time we see that he didn’t arrive with them. Meaning, he must have made one of the officers scrounge them up which, while still potentially just a nice gesture, feels like it has more potential for manipulation. More “Do the work for me so I can look good to the kid” rather than, “I heard Glynda had you in her clutches and brought cookies from home to soothe that :D”

Ruby never gives her passionate speech about wanting to help people like her parents taught her to and how Beacon is her plan to do that. So although the fandom has long assumed that Ozpin invited her partly due to her Silver Eyes—an assessment I agree with—that motivation feels far more prominent without Ruby overtly wanting to come. At least, she doesn’t tell Ozpin she wants to come. Now, instead of making Ruby’s wish come true (with the added benefit of assisting Ozpin’s war) Ozpin offers a place seemingly out of the blue, still putting some focus on Ruby’s combat skills, far more on those special, Silver Eyes. This feels like a recruitment now, not a benevolent gesture towards a family friend’s kid.

Going off of that, there’s no playful banter between Ozpin and Glynda about Ruby getting in early. This Ozpin has very little of the kind, fatherly energy of the webseries.

Finally, we see Ozpin talking to Tai afterwards and though Tai is quite taken with Ruby getting to skip two years, it’s not like Ozpin is asking his permission here. Sure, sure, we could get into the question of how much agency Remnant kids actually have—Blake’s parents are cool with her going off to Beacon after being missing for a time, no one is looking for Oscar, etc.—but the point is that twice, once before meeting Ruby and once after, Ozpin has the chance to offer Tai this opportunity for his daughter, but very overtly does not. He says that he will be speaking to Ruby. He says that she will be attending Beacon. He’s in control here.

The combination of this creates a far less approachable, more calculating Ozpin. AKA, the kind of Ozpin that RWBY failed to write, but the fandom insists is there in an effort to make the fury in Volume 6+ make sense. I’m not sure how I feel about it? On the one hand yeah, I’m glad to see IQ setting the stage for future reveals. This is an Ozpin who really might be puppeteering this war in a way the cast can be justifiably disgusted by. Yet on the other hand, it doesn’t feel much like Ozpin to me. Though small changes have been made to all the characters, they still feel like themselves (Klein being the exception). Ozpin though… there’s no interest in Ruby’s passion, no teasing Glynda, no intimacy with Tai. Seriously, go back and watch “Ruby Rose.” We’ve got Ozpin’s dad-like concern over Ruby using one of the “most dangerous weapons every designed,” his clear fondness for his “dusty old crow,” offering the cookies only after Ruby has explained herself a bit and her actually eating them (comfortable in his presence/trusting what he gives her), the eye-twitch when she talks with her mouth full, fond smile as Ruby gushes about her uncle, laughing a little at her karate chops, “adorable girl,” the very stern “You want to come to my school?” which forces Ruby to clearly state her own goals and desires (that oh so conveniently align with his), THIS

I mean, Ozpin is a dad. I feel like that’s a very crucial part of his characterization. He’s a romantic who settled down, had kids, does the stupid voices while reading his beloved fairy tales… and then his life went to absolute shit. He’s an exhausted dad who is still fighting because he believes wholeheartedly that the world is worth fighting for. He’s exactly the kind of guy who would bring a talented kid cookies and let her skip two years, all while ensuring her happiness benefits humanity somehow.

This guy feels like a creep—and that’s not just because of the weird doll features.

So good for the fandom, finally has a legitimately suspicious Ozpin to embrace? Yay IQ laying the groundwork for future plot-points? But as my favorite character, I wish we had Ozpin back. Especially since he’s only existed as an extension of Oscar for the past five Volumes, one everyone uses as a punching bag.

Maybe his characterization will change in the upcoming episodes? :(

We near the end of “Red, White, Black, Yellow” with a bit of additional worldbuilding slapped onto the trailer content. Weiss learns from Winter that there are hard rules to their totally-not-magic system—“Your Aura can only take a direct attack once or twice at most. The moment you’re hit, you’re finished”—and that’s reiterated by Glynda to Ruby: “Is your Aura strong enough to stop every bullet they fired?”

Cue me CACKLING at, like, every single RWBY fight ever. Will IQ do what the webseries couldn’t and actually stick to its own rules? We’ll have to see…

Blake is off in a… barn? Some isolated place with a bag of supplies now. She gets her admission notice from Beacon and I have to wonder when she took that exam. Was it before she left Adam, thereby making her leaving him feel a little less random? Was it after her escape and she’s been, what? Just running through grimm infested territory since then, popping into Beacon once for a quick test? Why didn’t she ever go home?? Yeah, there are still aspects that don’t quite add up for me. Regardless, Blake gets teary and says that now she’s really able to follow a “different path.”

Klein sends Weiss off with faith that she’ll carry on the legacy of Master Nicholas Schnee and, after Ruby tells Tai that she’ll make a ton of friends at Beacon (that’s a change in characterization), we finish with them all boarding the same transport. We then get a really lovely moment where both Weiss and Blake stare at their reflection on opposite sides of the ship, mustering up a smile.

Watching OFMD grow as a fandom these last few months, I’ve gotten to see a lot of people question certain fandom trends that have popped up, including asking, “Wait, people ship that?” Ignoring for the moment that you obviously don’t need a reason beyond, “I like it,” we can usually pinpoint why fans end up liking that particular duo (or trio). The important takeaway here is that it doesn’t take much—at ALL—to spark that interest. This moment is a perfect example of that. Blake and Weiss are set up to parallel and contrast one another. One is the rich heiress harming the faunus. The other is the (right now reading as) poor faunus fighting the heiress. They’ve got that Romeo and Juliet potential—two houses not meant to join—and yet we also see, right here, that they’re so much more alike than either will initially believe. They’re separated now, haven’t yet met, are literally on opposite sides of the transport, and yet they both go through the exact same motions of sighing in relief at making it in time, catching sight of themselves in a reflective surface, considering who they are, and then smiling. There’s so much potential there! We in the RWBY fandom know that Bumbleby and White Rose are the two heavy-hitters, but right now Weiss hasn’t met Ruby and Blake hasn’t met Yang. I guarantee that if IQ were its own show and we were waiting a week for the next, totally original episode, fans would be all over Monochrome as the primary ship. It would have sunk its teeth into the community from that alone and even if IQ went the way of RWBY, splitting them up and starting numerous moments of other shipping potential (Weiss slowing coming to care for Ruby, Yang opening up to Blake, etc.) there’s a good chance that Blake/Weiss would have hung on like whoa, just from this moment and a week of theorizing alone. Never doubt the power of fans to imagine up the most epic romances from a single, thematically loaded shot.

We’re given our first glimpses of Jaune (vomiting), Nora (hanging onto Ren), Ren (suffering, but he likes it), and Pyrrha—taking up most of the screen as Salem says that “even the most brilliant lights eventually flicker and die.”

I can’t go through this again 😭

At least that’s a WAY better introduction for Pyrrha than being Jaune’s background, quirky girl...

And, of course, we end on a close-up of Ruby as Ozpin talks about small sparks and simple souls igniting the most change.

(I’m sorry she looks so creepy here hOW IS THAT NOT A MURDER DOLL??)

So, just to summarize, there's really good character work throughout this episode. Not only are the introductions tighter and better interwoven with Remnant's worldbuilding, but IQ does a decent job of setting up future themes, conflicts, and — if the plot circles back to canon — foreshadowed events like Pyrrha’s death. Basically, this is what happens when you take your story through another draft. This is RWBY with an eye towards what did and didn't work the first time around.

Yet for all that praise... I have to admit that a certain spark is missing. Yes, the animation is so much better, but as said, there's something charming about RWBY's janky movements and shadow people. Yes, the characters' introductions fit more neatly into the story-world now, but it was exciting to get individual action trailers, unsure at first how they would develop into a plot-driven narrative. No, there's no reason to waste time on silly things like Jaune being Vomit Boy, but the lack of stupid humor in this premiere makes me feel like a crucial part of RWBY is missing. There's no disappearing cookies, or Ruby being chill about Yang kicking men out of club windows, or karate chops, or (and this is a real travesty imo) a cringey "Can I have your autograph??" towards Glynda. Maybe it's that we're nearly a decade out from the original air date and tastes have changed, or maybe it's just straight up nostalgia on my part, but for however good IQ is so far, it doesn't feel like it has the same heart that RWBY did — and I don't think it's capable of recreating that. RWBY was a specific storm of Monty + 2013 + the appeal of a group of fans doing something fun in their basement over something objectively "good," and who knows what else thrown into the mysterious pot of success. You literally can't recreate that, especially when so much of RWBY's fanbase are adults now, unable to return to their teenage years — or even just the eight years younger version of themselves if they were adults the first time around — and the headspace of when they first fell in love with the story. That doesn't make IQ bad by any means (and it may well get its own fanbase of first-time viewers). I really enjoyed this first episode... but I enjoyed it in the way I enjoy lots of other well-made, but kinda generic anime. Without it already being a RWBY story and without RWBY having caught my imagination back when it did, I don't think I would have gotten hooked on IQ in the same way. The premier is good, arguably far, FAR better than "Ruby Rose" ever was, and yet, whether due to time, nostalgia, or something else entirely, RWBY still feels like it comes out on top. It’s just got... something that IQ lacks.

Not that it's a competition, of course, though certain members of the fandom seem to believe quite strongly that it should be. More because they’d like a built-in reason to drag anyone with a criticism of IQ/RWBY than because they actually believe two versions of a story can’t co-exist.

But I digress.

With that, we've completed "Red, White, Black, Yellow"! At a measly 6,000 words, no less. (I’m apologizing now for the inevitable typos. It’s past 1:00am now and I can’t read through this again...) As is abundantly obvious, these recaps take a long time to write and this sneak peek has, quite unexpectedly, dropped the equivalent of three weeks worth of RWBY content into my lap all at once. Normally I'd have no problem buckling down to write the next episode, but I have a number of fic commitments at the start of July that I can't afford to ignore. So writing time will be going towards those, first and foremost, with me continuing to work on Ice Queendom on the side. I hope to have the next episode recapped in the next few days — at the latest — but that depends entirely on how kind the writing Gods are to me this week.

So stay tuned and, as always, thanks for reading! <3

MurderOfBirds' Twitter Thread: https://twitter.com/MurderofBirds_/status/1540414268457340928

#RWBY #RWDE #mymetas #rwby: ice queendom #rwby recaps

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underthetree845 · 6 months

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ask game

😅✍🛒🛠💖👀🤗

Hello darling! Thank you for the ask (<3)

😅 (What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?)- God, um, I have this one x reader thing I wrote, and it was the very first piece of fanfiction I ever came up with. I wrote it in eighth grade (T-T). It wasn't super terrible and I didn't say "orbs" instead of eyes even once, I just kind of didn't know what I was doing. No planning took place, it was just a little forced, but I'm kind of proud of myself for just getting it out. It was an Armin/fem reader thing where they were going to a party dance thing and there was a confession. Kind of like a less evolved version of my recent masquerade fic, actually. I guess I enjoy writing dancing. I know I was young and everything but I'm so thankful that I hadn't figured out that I could actually post on fanfiction websites yet, I kept writing and thankfully (at least I believe/hope) that I got better. ✍ (Do you have a beta reader?)- I do not. I'm not against it or anything, I just don't. I do have this one friend that I send e v e r y t h i n g I write to though, albeit after it's published because she's not really an experienced writer (not that she's bad, just not the right person to ask for feedback). She's even read that dance fic I mentioned in the previous question.

🛒 (What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.)- Mutual pining is a big one for me 😭. Whether it's friends to lovers (which is what I mostly write), strangers to lovers, enemies, coworkers, etc. etc. there will always be mutual pining at some point. Even if one has had feelings for longer and I depict the growth of the other's feelings (which I find really interesting). Also- random- but I feel like hand holding/focus on hand touches is always a light thing I find myself wanting to incorporate. Not sure why.

🛠 (What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?)- I like to use google docs. It syncs to my phone too so I can write on the way to school or in public if I'm bored, stuff like that. Straight up writing in the tumblr drafts scares me, it's too easy to delete O.o. I oftentimes keep one doc for notes (if it's a longer fic) and write the fic separately. Fun fact though, when I started out, I was actually using the notes app on my phone. That didn't last long, but I still have my first few unpublished 8th grade fics on there.

💖 (What made you start writing?)- Okay so what made me REALIZE that I liked writing was my English classes in school. I've always been a bookworm- ever since I was a little kid- so it was amazing to me that I was able to create stories and show them to people in the same way real authors could. So middle school me loved doing creative writing assignments, I always went way over the wordcount, I loved reading books, etc. etc. Eventually I start getting into fandom, and through internet browsing, I come across fanfiction for the first time. I have to say, it kind of blew my mind. It's hard to explain that I never really stopped reading as much as I did in middle school and elementary school, I just read a lot more ~digital works by unpublished authors~ now (and I still do read books, I'm currently reading Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson and I love it). The rest I kind of already explained. I tried my hand at it for awhile in the notes app, eventually made an account, read, liked, etc., started posting, and the rest is history. :)

👀 (Tell me about an up and coming wip please!)- *Rubs hands together.* Okay, so: First of all, I'm ALMOST, almost I swear! I'm almost done with the next chapter for my ongoing fic. I'll probably post it sometime next weekend (I don't know if you follow it but there's that). I'm currently working on a Dazai oneshot with the pocky game (you know what that is, right?) And then someone sent me a jealous Chuuya request which I plan on completing after my other two wips since they won't take long.

🤗 (What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?)- EEEE! Okay okay!

Dear new writers, WE ARE SO HAPPY TO HAVE YOU HERE. Please don't be shy! Reach out, interact, share your work (if you want to) and there will be people who say hello back! Remember, don't compare yourself to other writers. We all started at some point. We all had a first post, we all make mistakes, we're all human. On that note, don't beat yourself up about making it perfect! Getting out a first draft is a great first step. It can include notes, errors, run on sentences, and that's fine because it's a draft! You do not have to be perfect, none of us are. Do not feel bad about not having the time to write, or even if you do have the time but lack the energy. Take care of yourself first always! Remember to have confidence in yourself. You created something that wasn't there before and put it out into the world and it's a story and it's yours and that is amazing in every aspect. Don't give up on yourself, take care of yourself, be kind to yourself, and you will slowly but surely find your place in the writers' community! <3

Thank you again for the asks! I hope all of you sleep well tonight. <33

#answered #ask game #sorry this was so long oh my god #emoji asks

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spoiled-bracket · 11 months

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古見さんは、コミュ症です (Komi Can’t Communicate) - manga version

Komi is, by consensus, the most SSS rank pretty girl in school. Never talks though. People are totally into it though? She's the school's idol. Not talking is part of that brand. But as it turns out, she's not talking because really painfully shy and cannot talk to others. All Komi wants is friends, but... Komi Can't Communicate.

Is it good?

I mean it was alright. The art was pretty good, I liked the general direction. Sometimes the panels were a little hard to follow and the print density got a bit tight for my tastes but overall nice.

The general concept is not bad.

Our expectations of other people, our perceptions of them, shape reality. Komi has acute social anxiety, and her behavior reinforces what other people already believe. She is a walking reality distortion field. Which just makes it all worse for her, because people are too intimidated to treat her normally.

Tadano Hito on the other hand is not amazing or placed on any pedestal, but by chance he figures out what’s up with Komi and makes it his new life’s work to cure her of her anxiety.

Asides from I'm not a huge fan of "here's a girl with a problem, sure do wish we had somebody male enough to fix it for her!", I thought maybe the story would work out. But, at least in my reading, it started to feel strained pretty early on. It wasn’t that the jokes were bad but they felt quite repetitive in a way that made me feel I was just reading the same gag over and over. Maybe that’s not terrible I’d you’re into this joke but I just found it a bit too drawn out. When you can see the punchline coming a mile off, it doesn’t make sense to draw out the delivery for so long.

And there are a lot of volumes of this.

That, and the general tone of the jokes didn’t quite vibe with me. I got the impression that if you really enjoyed the first few gags you’d probably be glad for a whole book of it, but not for me, thanks.

That aside, there were admittedly some straight up brilliant scenes. Tadano standing in front of the blackboard while Komi writes down all her anxieties. That feeling of him realizing just how affected she is. It’s just brilliant. But I wanted the author to subvert my expectations a little more, and that didn't quite seem to happen. Maybe it does happen a few more volumes in, but that's too much commitment to ask from me. The text was already dense enough that reading this in Japanese was a slog.

Other points of interest, I realized at some point that the art style in this comic changes pretty radically about 10 or so volumes in. Not in a I-am-getting-better-at-my-craft way, because Oda already starts the series out as an amazing artist. It's more like they gradually change their idea of what it should look like. And again, that might be OK with you, but it left me feeling a little wishy-washy about the whole thing.

Reading more?

I kind of want to... But nah, not for me.

Unless I get a really strong recommendation or endorsement for the rest of the manga, I have other things I want to get through. There was a Netflix adaptation, and I kind of want to see what that's like, but again, there are only so many hours in the day I can devote to this.

#komi can't communicate #manga #thoughts

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pagesfromthevoid · 2 years

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Leave Through the Lobby | p.p. | 2

Mild No Way Home Spoilers!

Andrew!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Blood, stab wounds, language, and inappropriate insinuations

Author’s Note: This is part two of a random thing I did. You can read the first one but I don’t think it’s necessary. Honestly, it just. It got away from me. I just really love Andrew’s Peter, okay? Okay.

Series Masterlist | Request Here

Returning to his universe was much harder than Peter anticipated it being. He thought, after saving Y/N in her universe, he’d feel less guilty. He’d be able to just…move on. Start his life back up and live like his older counterpart had advised him to do. He thought he would be able to just approach her and ask her to hang out.

But old habits die hard, and Peter did not move on as he wanted to. Actually, he did the literal opposite. The same day he returned, he had to deal with a whole number of issues that arose while he was gone. Several bank robberies, some guy who called himself Scorpion, and J. Jonah Jameson accusing Spider-Man of no longer caring about New York —and Peter Parker of not caring about his photographer position at the Bugle.

He dove right back into work and didn’t think anything of it.

That’s not true, he thought about it every night he returned to his apartment from patrol.

Scolded himself as he’d stitch his wounds up, and cleaned up the blood from the fights. Frantically thought about how he needed to make time for himself, to go visit Gwen’s grave. Go see May and actually spend time with her, not rush around to get out of anything that made him think too hard.

The only thing he did slightly different was he left through the lobby of his apartment more. Usually running, or at least jogging, but he tried. It was a little change, and it kind of effected how crime was being dealt with but nothing was terribly impacted. And the only reason for this change was…well, her. Y/N.

He thought of her frequently, both his version and the alternate version. And he knew that if he came in and out through the shitty little lobby of their apartment building, there was a chance he would see her. And he could talk to her. Or, at the very least, say hello. And that’s what he did.

For months after his return from multidimensional travel, he always came in and out of the lobby, just for a chance to see her. For any chance to say hello. For a chance to man up and start a conversation with her about literally anything. But he never got pass ‘hey’ before he chickened out or actually had to go.

But it was a step in the right direction.

*****

“Fuck,” he cursed one night as he pulled off his mask in the dark alley beside his apartment.

His latest run in with the newest bad guy —Scorpion, aptly named for his scale-like armor and a stinger that packed way more than a punch —left Peter with a wicked stab wound in his side as well as several lacerations across his cheeks. While he knew he’d heal sooner rather than later, he also knew he needed to get upstairs and deal with it. But he couldn’t break his little routine; not even for possibly fatal stab wounds.

He wiped as much of the blood off his face as he could and slid his civilian clothes over his suit. He stuffed his mask into the front pocket of his hoodie, shook out his hair, and made his way into the lobby of his apartment building. It was mostly empty; the doorman who handled their mail gave him a weird look, eying him up and down. Peter just nodded awkwardly and made his way to the elevator.

Pushing the button, he leaned against the wall to ease any pressure being put on his wounds. The doors dinged and he was walking in before anyone could get off. Basic elevator etiquette be damned as he ran straight into whoever was exiting and he cussed out loud again, wincing as he held his side.

“Oh god! I’m sorry!”

His eyes shot up, widening as he looked at Y/N, standing there with her hands hovering over his arms.

“O-oh, no, Y/N. It’s my fault. Seriously,” he stammered out, ducking his head down to avoid letting her see his face. Usually he wasn’t so battered when he came home. And he didn’t usually get this close to her.

“Are you still getting your ass kicked every day by Flash or are you part of some weird fight club?” She asked, letting the elevator doors shut them both inside as she examined his face. There was clear worry in her eyes.

“You were leaving —“

“What floor do you live on?” She interrupted, and he held up a five with his fingers. She pressed the button quickly, then waved her hand absently. “I always see you come home with bruises but this looks so much worse. I can’t, in good conscience, leave you like this.”

This was the Y/N he remembered. They weren’t friends by any means in school. She was a theatre kid, always hiding in the black box of school auditorium. And if she wasn’t on the stage, she was in the theatre classroom running lines. Her and Peter just never crossed paths often. But when they did —she was always so nice. Always helping someone if they needed it. Helping him.

“It’s like high school all over again,” he managed to joke, smiling at her sheepishly.

She stopped looking over the cuts on his face, now stepping back some to really look at him. “Ah yes. The one time I yelled at Flash for literally trying to curb stomp you. That was the first and last time I think we had a full conversation.” The guilt twisted in Peter’s stomach but she was smiling, and clearly wasn’t mad about it. “If I recall, you had called him Eugene and I had to forcibly drag you to the clinic with Gwen.”

Hearing Gwen’s name dropped so easily hit him like a train. And the silence that the two of them were now trapped in could cut like a knife. It was obvious that Y/N had struck a nerve, and she looked down and stepped back into the wall of the elevator.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to —“

Peter shook his head, running a hand through his hair. His fingers got caught, dried blood making it stick in places. “No, no. It’s okay. I just…I haven’t heard anyone say her name in a long time.”

She nodded some, looking down for a moment. “You never, uh, answered my question.”

“What?”

“Are you in some kind of fight club or do you just get attacked every day?”

Peter couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking his head some. “Uh, no. I just have shitty luck. I fall a lot.” He had moved his arms to rest behind his head, trying to act as casual as possible.

But she wasn’t looking at his face anymore. She locked her gaze on his side, which was bleeding through his hoodie. When Peter realized what was going on, he panicked and wrapped his arms around his middle.

“Peter Parker, you’re bleeding!” She yelled at him as the elevator dinged and opened to his floor.

“I’m fine —“

“Are you out of your damn mind?” She demanded, moving now to yank his sleeve. “Give me your keys. What apartment is it?”

“Oh, uh, 514B but I leave it unlocked —“

She made a sound of absolute disapproval, shaking her head as she pulled him down the hall. Peter protested the entire time, panicking now as she approached his apartment. He couldn’t remember the last time he properly cleaned it, and he couldn’t remember if he put the extra web slingers away when he left. He knew there was laundry all over the floor and definitely dishes in the sink and this just…this wasn’t how he wanted her to see him. This wasn’t how he wanted her to know him.

Just before she stopped his door, he slid in front of her and blocked her path. Y/N looked up at him in confusion, frowning deeply.

“You can go do whatever you were doing, Y/N. For real, I don’t want to ruin your night.” He insisted, putting his arms up to block the doorway even more.

But she shook her head. “I was literally going to get a bottle of cheap wine and some candy. I think that can wait.”

Without warning, his door opened without anyone touching it and she was ducking under his arm to enter his apartment. The panic was rising but now his senses were blowing up at him. She had opened the door. She had powers. Just like in the alternative universe.

“How did you do that?” He asked, spinning on his heel to hurry inside and slamming the door behind him.

“Do what?”

“Open the door!”

“With my hand?”

He watched as she turned away from and started going through his kitchen cabinets, looking for what he could assume was the first aid kit.

“What —no you didn’t —“

“You need to take off your shirt,” she ordered as she pulled out the first aid kit from a very empty cup and plate cabinet. It didn’t seem to phase her that all his dishes were in the sink —not dirty, per se since he rinsed them but still.

“I-I…don’t change the subject!” He exclaimed, looking between her and the bathroom. He couldn’t take his shirt off, obviously, as his suit was still on under his clothes.

“Peter, you’re bleeding very seriously through your shirt —“

“We haven’t spoken in like ten years, I-I can’t just take my shirt off.” He lied, making a face as he did it. It came off as embarrassment but it was mostly from how stupid of a lie that was.

She watched him for a moment then nodded some. “Just…go to the bedroom then, and put on a clean shirt so I can determine if we need to go to the ER. I’ll wait in the bathroom.”

He hesitated for a moment as she walked into the bathroom with the kit. When the door clicked, he made a mad dash for his bedroom, throwing his bloody clothing in the very full hamper and started prying off his suit. Bloody spandex didn’t come off with ease, of course, so he fumbled several times before finally getting it off. He shoved it into the back of his closet, and pulled an undershirt and pair of joggers on quickly.

Again, not exactly how he wanted his first hang out with Y/N to go. But he supposed he’d take what he could get. He shook out his hair one more time, taking a breath, before he opened the door to the bathroom.

She had pulled her hair up and out of her face, and discarded the heavy jacket she had put on to go out. It was then that he realized she was wearing just leggings and a raggedy high school show t-shirt —clearly not meaning to be caught by anyone she knew while going out either. The panic was relieved some, knowing that she also wasn’t ready for this.

“Sit,” she ordered, pointing at the seat down toilet.

He didn’t argue this time, taking a breath as he sat down. It was definitely healing, the wound in his side, but it was still a slow process. And goddamn did it hurt to sit. Y/N got down on her knees in front of him, leaning in close to pull his shirt up over the wound. It was sticking, and he let out a soft whine at the sensation.

Peter looked down at her, and the thoughts that came to mind immediately made him look away. There was no way she was having the same thought; that her position was wildly questionable. That if he stood up, she would be at the perfect level to —

Nope. What the hell, Parker? He scolded himself, looking away and closing his eyes. Which didn’t help drive away the thought of her. So he opened his eyes again and focused on getting her the supplies from the kit, something to distract himself.

“You opened the door without touching it,” he suddenly remembered, looking back at her again.

“No, I didn’t. I opened it by turning the knob when you were all panicky about me coming in.” She argued, tearing open an alcohol pad. “This is going to hurt probably worse than getting stitches.”

“Do you know how to stitch a person up? That would be super convenient.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Can’t be much different from stitching up a dog, right?”

“Is that what you do? Are you a vet?”

“Vet tech, so I sort of was but not really,” she explained, wiping at the stab wound in his side gently. He hissed in response, tensing up as she did so. But her hand on his knee distracted him suddenly, especially as she squeezed it gently. “I’m almost done.”

“Was? What happened?”

She shrugged, taking the roll of paper towels she’d snagged from the kitchen. She pulled a handful off and wet them. “Put this against your side for a second while I set up the rest.” He did as he was told, waiting for further explanation. She kept her eyes on the supplies, setting them out carefully so she was prepared for each step. “I quit a couple years back. It wasn’t what I thought it was, and I just…didn’t feel like I was helping. Which sucks because I definitely wasted two years of college getting a degree I don’t use. Though I just got my A.S. Degree in that.”

“What do you do now, then?”

She laughed some, looking down for a moment. “I, uh, went back to school. Luckily two years was what I needed for being a tech, so I had most of my general classes down from that.” She explained, motioning his hand away to now dry off his wound. It had stopped bleeding, and she seemed confident enough in what she was doing. “I went and became the theatre teacher at Midtown. Right around the time I graduated, Ms. Clovefield retired.”

He could feel her embarrassment, as if being a teacher wasn’t an accomplishment. “Hey, that’s awesome.” He reassured her. She smiled some, shrugging sheepishly. “I couldn’t do it, honestly. Teaching seems terrifying.”

“Kids are absolutely insane but I love them.” She looked around for a moment, determining what to do next. “I need you to sit up straight, or lean back so you’re flat. Can we use your bed?”

“What?” He stared at her for a moment, unsure what she meant briefly. She pointed at his stomach, and he let out a breath. “Oh, right. Yeah. I…I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I do,” she teased as she stood up, grin on her face.

Gathering the supplies, she walked into his room and set them back up. Peter made his way in, making a face at how gross his bedroom was. She didn’t seem to care, though. He didn’t hesitate this time and slipped off his shirt, giving her the space to work as he laid down on the bed.

When she finally looked at him, he caught her staring at him. He felt his face flush, and he brought his hands up to cover his face some. He could do this himself, he didn’t need her to do this. And with the inappropriate jokes and thoughts, Peter felt like he was going to do something stupid. But there she was, clearly staring at him. Looking him over, with surprise on her face.

“I’m going to be honest and say I don’t know what I was expecting but it definitely wasn’t you having a six pack,” she admitted, sitting on her knees next to his bed.

Peter glanced over at her through an opening in his fingers, and couldn’t help but grin some. “I’m sorry, I guess?”

“What, no. Don’t apologize. Unexpected isn’t bad.” She corrected quickly, and he noticed the blush creeping up her cheeks. “Okay, uh, let me clean this one more time then I’ll stitch it up.”

In what felt like no time at all, Y/N had stitched Peter up, and wrapped his wound with gauze and bandages. He was used to this part, changing it and cleaning it. Besides, it would be gone in a few days anyway. When she had announced her completion, Peter sat up and admired her handiwork, praising her for both her help and quick hands. While he didn’t need her help, it was nice that he had it.

“Let’s clean up your face and I think you’ll be fine,” she offered, moving to sit on the bed beside him now.

Peter looked down at her, feeling the warmth that was radiating from her body against his bare skin. It was a very distracting feeling, and he couldn’t help but lean into it more.

“You never told me what happened,” she said as she started wiping the first cut on his cheek.

“You didn’t tell me how you opened my door,” he countered, wincing as she cleaned the dirt and blood away and replaced it with a bandaid.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re going crazy, Parker. The pain and blood loss are going to your head.”

She moved to reach the next cut, pressing closer than before in order to get it sorted out. But Peter caught her hand gently. “If you have powers, like I don’t know…telekinesis, I’m not going to freak out.” He promised.

She looked at his hand on hers then up at him. Then she pulled her hand away. “I don’t have telekinesis, Peter.” She said firmly, returning to her work and placing another bandaid over his nose. “Me having powers would be like you being Spider-Man. Impossible, and ridiculous.”

He took her hands again, holding them in his gently. “Is it really impossible?”

The two stared each other down for a long while. Her brows furrowed as she contemplated what he was saying; what he was implying. He could see it in her eyes as she pieced everything together slowly.

“Are you…are you Spider-Man, Peter?”

“Do you have superpowers, Y/N?”

They stared at one another again, waiting for the other to give their final confirmation. But the silence said it all. The silence was louder than any words could be.

That silence was broken very quickly, however.

“I fucking knew it!” She yelled out suddenly, eyes going wide.

As she shot off the bed, Peter practically fell off in surprise at her exclamation. “What do you mean, ‘you knew it’?” He demanded, standing up now too.

“I mean, I didn’t actually know. But we always speculated at school that it had to be you!”

His brow furrowed as he looked around the room, confused. “What the hell are you talking about? Who did you ‘speculate’ with?”

“The entire theatre department!“

Peter sat back down, and covered his mouth with his hand. This wasn’t exactly how he planned to tell her (he didn’t exactly plan to tell her at all, honestly). But at her confession, he wondered how many others were thinking the same as her. No one ever asked him outright, not even when he thought he was acting completely different.

“How did you guess? What…what tipped you off?” He asked, looking up at her now as she paced his room.

“You came to school late every time Spider-Man was in action,” she pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest. “And every time Spider-Man got punched in the face? You had a black eye in the same place. Always covered in bruises. And then you started to hold your own against Flash…God, what’s it like? Being Spider-Man?”

They were all valid reasons to assume he was Spider-Man. And they were all the same reasons Gwen had used to confirm it, all those years ago. “Uh, well I guess you kinda saw tonight. Lots of bruises and cuts,” he explained sheepishly, looking himself over. “But I have to help, you know? It’s just…it’s what I do.” But there was a grin on his face as he looked back at her once more. “You know, I didn’t realize you paid that close attention to me,” he admitted, eyes on her still.

Y/N stopped pacing, looking at him with an embarrassed grin. “I…may have had a crush on you senior year.” She admitted. Peter looked down for a second as she sat beside him once more. “But you were with Gwen and I couldn’t compete with her. Didn’t want to try, honestly; you two were so happy.”

Silence filled the air once more as Gwen’s name took over his thoughts. He was happy with Gwen. Planned to spend his whole life with her. But plans changed; completely and devastatingly changed and Peter couldn’t bring himself to be happy with anyone else. He didn’t think he deserved to be happy with someone else —how could he risk another lover’s life just to be selfish? He couldn’t.

But he thought back to what the other Peter had said; how he couldn’t avoid his problems by wearing the mask all the time. And thought back to the alternate version of her, who had sparked the change in routine that had lead to this very moment. One night in a new world was all it took to change his mind a little; and as small as the change was…Well, here you were. Sitting on his bed, tending his wounds and learning the truth.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. But Peter didn’t know if it mattered anymore.

“Since you know my secret, I think it’s only fair I know yours,” he teased some, leaning closer to her to whisper. “Telekinetic abilities, huh?”

She pushed him lightly, jokingly, and rolled her eyes. “I…yeah. I’ve had them since I was six but I don’t know. Never needed to use them for anything more than an extra set of hands.”

Peter nodded, adjusting his position before he laid back in his bed. She hesitated but joined him, both sets of legs dangling off the side of the bed as they stared up at the ceiling.

“How’d you get them?”

“Question of the century. One day I was normal, next day I wasn’t. My mom worked for Oscorp and the doctors think she may have brought something home without realizing it.”

Peter looked at her now, hands resting on his chest as he took in the moment. She was still staring at ceiling, clearly stuck in her own thoughts. Without thinking, he took her hand and followed her gaze to the ceiling. From the corner of his eye, he saw her tense up in surprise but relax when she realized what he was doing. Peter smiled some.

For the next half hour or so, the two simply laid on his bed, holding hands. They didn’t speak; the only sounds came from their breathing and whatever noises the apartment made. Didn’t even look at each other; there was no need. Laying there, together, was something he needed —she did too. They needed whatever was happening in this moment, if anything to stay grounded.

If he could have lived in this moment forever, he probably would have. But that’s the thing about moments; they don’t last forever. She had pulled away, taking the moment with her, as she sat up. Peter kept his eyes on the ceiling, debating if he needed to get up too.

“I need to go home, Peter,” she said softly, looking down at him. There were no signs of uncomfortableness on her face as he finally sat up and looked at her. “It’s after two in the morning; I have work in a couple hours.”

Peter nodded, running his hand through his hair —still matted in some spots from the blood. He’d all but forgotten about his fight. She looked him over, making sure he was still cleaned up from her care, and stood. Peter quickly followed suit, standing over her as he grabbed his shirt from the floor.

“Let me take you out,” he offered before really realizing what he was saying.

She looked up at him, a small smile on her face as she nodded. “I’d like that. We can grab dinner Wednesday, at the diner down the street? 5?”

He nodded as he followed her to the door, opening it for her. Peter didn’t want her to go, but he understood that she needed to. She had an actual job with actual contract hours, and he’d kept her up all night with bloody wounds and confessions.

But she wanted to see him again. And that was the next big step.

“It’s a date,” he said with a grin as he stepped aside for her to leave. He looked around the hallway, resisting the urge to ask her to stay.

“It’s a date,” she repeated with a tired, but content smile.

Peter watched as she walked herself to the elevator and disappeared into it. And when he shut the door, he stood there for a long time, considering what had just happened.

He had a date.

———

Series Masterlist | Requests are OPEN

———

Tags: @lizzieann143

#andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker

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itsevidentvery · 2 years

Text

On commenting

Every so often a post crosses my dash where a writer asks readers to comment on fics. The post will contain some combination of the following:

Writers work hard over creating something that readers consume free of charge

Commenting is free and can make an author’s day

Writers can get demoralised if they feel they’re writing into a void.

Every so often a post crosses my dash exhorting writers not to tie their self-worth to fic engagement. The post will contain some combination of the following:

All contributions are valued

You never know how much your work means to someone

You should really be writing for yourself

People can feel too shy to engage

Stats don’t tell the whole story

You never know how much your work means to someone

Seriously, there could be someone out there right now who clutches the lines of your fic to their heart but could never tell you

You never know how much your work means to someone

(To which, invariably, an irate fic writer will comment: ‘You could … just… tell the fic writer … that?’)

I get where the second type of post is coming from. There’s the kernel of a good idea there: you really can’t expect, or control, how other people will react, or what they will do. You shouldn’t tie your enjoyment of creation to an unknown and treacherous quantity.

And I think that’s good and useful advice.

But.

Isn’t it also … kind of… depressing?

We’re really telling fic writers, straight up, that they should have zero expectations of their community. We’re really telling fic writers, straight up, that they should not only write fic, but also write (in their own minds) the enthusiastic comments that consumers of their content just haven’t gotten around to communicating.

And … no. I think that if you like a fic and are able to, you should leave a comment. I think that should be the norm.

Both the clauses of that sentence are important, by the way. Don’t leave a comment if you didn’t like the fic. If you can’t say something nice etc etc. And there are lots of reasons that you may not be able to leave a comment: executive dysfunction, debilitating anxiety, discomfort writing in the language the fic was written in etc. This post is not about you. Engage however you can, and I’m thrilled you’re here.

This post is aimed at – well, it’s aimed at me.

You see, I used to lurk before I started writing fic myself. And I still lurk, far too often, especially in large fandoms that I’m not a part of. I tell myself that a super popular fic in a massive fandom already has a shit-tonne of comments. I tell myself I don’t even know the canon and I don’t want to say something stupid. I tell myself that I don’t want to come off as a creeper for following a writer to a fandom I’m not even in. I tell myself all sorts of things. I know, by the way, that I should be leaving a comment. I know that I could leave a comment. I wring my hands at the fascinating and terrible afflictions that prevent me from being the best version of myself.

Here’s the reality: A Bitch Ain’t Mysterious.

TL; DR: Commenting needs effort, and more importantly it needs intention, and I know from my own job that that’s where you lose people. Like, more than 90% of people. Frankly, we’re lucky anybody comments at all.

Part 1: What this post is not

This post is not here to:

Shame people for not commenting. I know from my own work how common, and powerful, the obstacles are that prevent people from commenting. More importantly, shaming people is not an effective way of changing their behaviour.

Inform readers that commenting encourages fic writers to produce, and not commenting can demoralise writers, sometimes to the point that they stop writing. I assume you know this already.

I want instead to talk about why people may not comment, and what might work to encourage them to comment.

Part 2: Why do so few people comment?

The major reason that people don’t comment? The default option is not to comment. It sounds trivial, but defaults are insanely powerful. They’re why you stay with mobile plans that cost you too much money, or stuck in behaviour patterns that you want to change. You have to opt in to leaving a comment. Yet another decision asked of you after the hundreds and hundreds you’re asked to make already. You don’t want to make another decision. (Of course, by not leaving a comment, you are making a decision, but it doesn’t feel that way, does it?).

Making the decision to leave a comment also opens you up to a flood of panicked worst-case scenarios. What if you say the wrong thing? What if you expose yourself in some way? What if you sound like a creeper, or entitled, or arrogant, or God knows what? It could be a disaster. The status quo is to say nothing. The status quo is safe.

And then, writing a comment takes effort. So much effort. I’ve seen post after post from harried writers saying that just one line – one emoji! – will do. But I’ve seen in my own work that adding literally one extra button-click to a process can filter out 96% of people who are already stressed or time-poor.

All of this might lead you to tell yourself ‘I’ll come back later, when I have the spoons for a proper comment.’ And maybe you will. But when I tell myself this, that is the devil speaking. I’m not going to come back. I know I’m not going to come back. I know I’ve never come back in the past. I know nothing’s changed, so why would I come back now? But you will, says the devil – or rather, present bias, the psychological bias that makes you re-up that gym membership even though you went maybe 1.5 times total. Leave that comment now. The one-line keysmash you actually post is better than the prose poem you never finish.

Commenting can also feel … kind of thankless. Yes, you get to yell about a story you loved with the person who produced it, which is wonderful. But commenting won’t necessarily get you more output, or more clout. And I know from experience that it’s not necessarily reciprocal.

Part 3: What might get more people to comment?

If this were my day-job, I’d simply accept that People Be People, and I’d make suggestions for fanfic-hosting platforms to tweak their interfaces to nudge people to comment. Below are a couple of such suggestions. But – as with platforms like AO3 – I’d be really reluctant to ask for changes to the user interface of a free-to-use service maintained by volunteers.

Likely most effective but also most intrusive/least feasible

Once readers have finished a fic/update, move them to the comment-box by default. This fix targets the default problem I mentioned earlier, by making the default option commenting. The important thing to note is that commenting is not mandatory. You always have the option to just hit kudos/ hit the back button. But you have to opt out of commenting, rather than opting in to commenting. Researchers have found that switching defaults can be highly effective in getting people to change their behaviour. But this fix is also intrusive, and I don’t want to risk collateral damage, like shaming or isolating people who cannot comment.

Likely less effective but also less intrusive

A message above the comment box framing comments as low-effort, like even one line can make an author’s day/keep them going etc. This message primarily targets the second big stumbling-block for commenting: the perceived effort. I was initially nervous about suggesting this, because I treasure the gorgeous, thoughtful, detailed comments I get and I’d worry about putting off those commenters. But research on charitable donations suggests that I needn’t worry. Asking people for charitable donations with the rider “Even a penny will help” not only increased the number of people contributing, but had no impact on the average size of contribution. So it’s likely that anchoring people to the lowest-effort commenting would increase the number of comments, but those rock-stars who leave you beautiful, thoughtful comments would keep doing so anyway.

It’s also important that the message looks like it’s coming from the platform, rather than individual authors. Doing so reinforces the message that commenting is a social norm, and it also makes the decision to comment – you know – less of a decision. Which helps to battle the problem of defaults I mentioned earlier.

Part 4: Thank your commenters!

If you’ve made it this far … well, honestly, bravo and thank you. If you’re a fic writer, I hope I’ve gotten across how fantastic your commenters are. Treasure them. Reply to them! Elevate your commenting MVPs the way you would promote creators you like. These people have battled psychological hurdles that fell millions of people to bring you your comment. Give them some love!

#ouf writing #commenting #long post #might delete soon

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greensaplinggrace · 3 years

Note

do you have any darklina fic recs?

I certainly have a few! But first I want to clarify that I don’t really read fic when I’m writing it, and since I have so many fics in the works right now, I haven’t really been reading a lot of fanfiction. So this list probably won’t be as extensive as it could be.

Here are some other great fic recommendation posts, however:

DARKLINA FIC RECS by @vicioux

DARKLINA FIC RECS // part ii by @vicioux

Darklina Ruling the World Together Fic Recs by @clubofthestarlesssaint

Tumblr Ficlets

Aleksander’s First Memory by @kestrafagnor

Fivan Talk About Darklina by @jomiddlemarch

a little light in the great, big dark by @valkyrhys

Alina tells Mal she’s with Aleksander by @lorsanbitch

Darklina week day 5: intimacy & touch by @starlesscne

AO3 Fanfiction

if it ain’t me by larry_hystereks (Incomplete - 10/13 Chapters)

alina’s in her second year at Yale when she meets aleksander at one of his frat parties.

a hookup with the potential for more, only if alina wasn’t still struggling to piece herself together from last year’s breakup.

or: alina, zoya, their trust issues, and the men that fall for them

---

I’m only at about chapter 6 of this fic currently, but so far it’s one of my all time favorite Modern AUs. The characterization for Alina and Aleksander is incredibly well done, and the entire fic itself is so feminist and queer in such a refreshing way. Aleksander and Alina are bisexual as fuck, both with their own separate complex lives, and much of Alina’s own traumas and relationships are explored outside of Aleksander.

There’s some Zoyalina, with Nikolina friendship and endgame Zoyalai. There’s some mystery and some tension, but nothing too extreme, and a lot of the fic is merely an exploration in growth and overcoming one’s history and learning how to move on in healthy ways. I love it.

She Wears a Collar (With My Name) by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

She is immortal, and whatever lingering hints of humanity she may have once had have long been bleached from her heart.

I will grant you one wish, boy, if it is in my power to do so. What does a Shadow Smith most want?

"You," he answers.

Written for Darklina Week 2021 - Day 2: Role Reversal

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This piece is just exquisite. This author’s writing style is one that I particularly enjoy. Their stuff is always so uniquely composed and crafted, and this one especially is a work of art. The way Darklina as a relationship is portrayed in particular is fascinating to me because it’s a role reversal but it’s still so complex. Aleksander’s character is nailed.

the bright sun was extinguish’d by athousandwinds (Complete)

Somewhere, deep in the dark forests of Ravka, a boy grows up on stories of Sankta Alina of the Wastes, the Sun-Scorched Saint.

---

This fic is just straight up magnificent. It’s so engaging and I love love love the way a role reversed Aleksander who joins the army is portrayed. He reminds me so much of Demon in the Woods Aleksander, as if he’s exactly what a grown version of that young boy would be. When I say I adore his characterization in this I’m not lying.

If I wanted any completed fic I’ve read to have a second chapter, it would be this one.

Winter in the Little Palace by redisxwing (Complete)

Written for Yuletide 2020.

Baghra and Alina's wildly different perspectives on the Darkling, and how things could have gone if nobody listened to Baghra.

Warning: Baghra is written as a harsh and arguably abusive parent, and this is darkfic about that relationship, with a side of shipping. Everything is terrible (except the parts that are pretty much okay).

Canon divergence pretty much as soon as Alina gets lessons in summoning.

This fic is likely not compatible with King of Scars (or any subsequent work).

---

As is said in the summary, this one makes Baghra a bit more extreme. If you’re a fan of Baghra, this fic probably isn’t for you. But since I’m not a fan of Baghra, I had no problems with it.

My biggest praise for this fic is in regards to the character interactions and the POVs. There’s a brilliant grasp of unique perspective and how to convey it, and that talent is carried over into the way character interactions are brought to life in the text. Also, there’s a scene where Alina gets kind of protective of the Darkling, which is one of my biggest weaknesses when it comes to Darklina.

Good Ideas by FelixRivers (Complete)

Alina Starkov had a very good idea. Aleksander Morozova would definitely agree. (or: Alina wants to go camping and Aleksander won't complain)

---

This fic is just straight up adorable and hilarious. They’re such a cute couple and Alina’s POV is great. It’s just pure fluff and humor 💕

I’m not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you by SanktaJenya - @sankta-arya (Complete)

Winter had been hard on Old Baghra and Ana Kuya was worried about her, so she decided that Alina should make the trip to her cottage on the other side of the woods to bring her some food and kvas. On her way there, Alina meets a stranger...

Darklina Red Riding Hood/Company of Wolves AU

Darklina Week, Day 4, Fairytales

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This fic has a splendid grasp of tension and atmosphere. It’s very enchanting and dark and intriguing, and it nails those aspects with absolute precision. I love the style and the way the fairytale is incorporated into the narrative. It’s truly a masterpiece.

The Wretched by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

“We are strangers, but I want to help.” He growls at her, mocking and mistrustful. “I understand,” she said. “You think I am one of them. I certainly look like one of them. But I want to help you. Will you let me?” Prompt: fairytale. Alina saves a dragon.

---

Okay so I’ve mentioned this one before as one of my Top 5 fics of all time and I still stand by that. I can’t even describe why I love this fic so much except that the pacing is amazing and the prose is stunning and the story is beautiful. Aleksander is a dragon and Alina is a witch, and their relationship is just so...interesting and fascinating and lovely. I would literally kill for this fic. There’s such a softness to it as well. Such a tenderness. Idk, I just really love it.

Show Me Who You Are (I Want To Know) by Ceris_Malfoy (Incomplete - 12/?)

Alina takes her future in her own hands and makes her own decisions.

---

This is a great “what if Alina had stuck around after the reveal” rewrite. It doesn’t have Mal bashing and in fact still writes them as close friends, which is something I’m fond of in Darklina fics. Aleksander is allowed to be soft and Alina is allowed to be powerful, and I really enjoyed the take on their dynamics as a power couple wherein Alina is given a lot of control.

There’s something to be said for the way Aleksander is written in the scenes where he must be honest and earnest with Alina. I really enjoy the way they both come to equal ground, and I’m even more fond of the way Alina is allowed to grow darker without losing her light. She also engages a lot with quite a few other characters, developing tons of friendships and alliances on her own that help strengthen her as an individual character.

on this bridge between starshine and clay by @rhea-imagined (Complete)

"His breath narrows for a moment, his fist clenched tight before he forces himself to loosen it. She is his only opportunity for salvation, but vulnerability is not a cape he wears easily. “In those days, there was less prejudice against Shadow Summoners. But everyone fears the dark, in one way or another.” He does not look at her as he waits for the penny to drop, half-hoping it stays suspended in the air."

In which Alexander comes clean to Alina and tells her about his true identity in hopes that this will help convince her to take down the Fold.

A rewrite of the fountain scene in episode four, with a good!Darkling that is trying to make amends.

---

This is my all-time favorite good!Aleksander AU. He’s kept in character despite the major changes made to his motivations, and Alina is given a lot more agency in her own story. It’s the first fic in what might become a series, but it can stand alone beautifully.

I love how Aleksander and Alina’s relationship is allowed to grow tense without breaking, and how it’s a clear sign of change but not abandonment. I love how both characters are able to think for themselves and become self-aware and are given the chance to think critically. I love the character interaction so much because it’s honest and fresh and engaging. Everything from the smallest action to the most off-hand thought is in character and meaningful and incorporated with an amazing style of writing. It’s a very refreshing piece, and the writing only makes it that much better.

Bunnies of a Feather Stitch Together by Ill_Ratte (Complete)

"Just as Alina called to the light, gathering and twisting it into a ball in her hands, the door swung open.

Kirigan blacked out the door frame. His appearance enough would have surprised Alina, but there was something clutched in his arm, something dark and floppy. It almost looked like the stuffed toys that had been passed around to the younger Orphans." - Alina and The Darkling bond over a love of soft things

---

Soft stuffed animal shenanigans. Bits of trans!Aleksander, which I’m very fond of, as well as just a lot of fluff with a bit of something bittersweet and sad in a good way.

Half Lie by Ill_Ratte (Complete)

"Baghra always talked of the demon that had stolen her daughter." Or, Alina learns the hard way that the Darkling isn't the only one who deals in half-truths

---

This one is trans!Aleksander, and it handles it in a very interesting way. It’s quite sad, and deals a lot with Baghra & Aleksander’s relationship through Alina’s POV. I want to give a warning for transphobia, because it does center around that a lot as the premise, but it really is worth the read if that isn’t a trigger for you. This is one of my favorite trans!Aleksander fics, and the way it handles emotion and grief and pain is quite extraordinary.

The CEO and Helioseismologist by mrthology (Complete)

Aleksander Morozova doesn't get sick. He's the CEO of one of the most successful companies in the world, one that he had built from the ground up with blood, sweat, and tears. He exercised daily (usually), maintained a healthy diet, and kept himself fit.

He wasn’t sick.

Too bad no one believed him. And too bad Genya decided to call Ivan to take him home before also calling Alina to take care of him.

Maybe, just maybe, being sick wasn't so bad. Especially not when he has such a wonderful girlfriend.

---

Both of the fics in this series are great, but I love this one in particular because I’m an absolute sucker for hurt/comfort. Anyone who’s been on my blog for a while knows that it’s my all time favorite trope to read, and this fic fits the hurt/comfort trope to a T in the best of ways. It’s very tender and in character, and Aleksander and Alina are so soft with each other. It’s adorable and really makes you feel for Aleksander, and the caretaking is done perfectly.

All the different layers of dark (thousand little suns) by Anuna (Complete)

One month after the Winter Fete, Aleksander returns to the Little Palace, and Alina has been missing him.

Episode five canon divergence in which Alina had never left Os Alta.

---

This one is soft emotional hurt/comfort smut. They’re both so open and vulnerable with each other, and it’s so beautiful to read. I love the writing style and the emotion in this one. It makes my heart ache in the best way.

An Honourable Man by liviy695 (Complete)

A reimagining of the scene after the winter fete. Alina catches a glimpse of a caring Darkling after he returns from integrating the Conductor. Plus, no Baghra interference.

---

This one is what it says on the tin, in that Baghra doesn’t interfere and they’re allowed to talk after the Darkling interrogates the Conductor. But more than that, it’s a great imagining of how a scene where Aleksander reveals Marie’s death would have gone. There’s a sort of quiet to it that I appreciate, with grief and solemnity weighed against care and vulnerability.

I see the real you (even if you don’t, I do) by Anonymous (Incomplete - 8/?)

A series of questionable decisions lead Alina to meet the Black General a bit earlier. Butterfly effect ensues.

---

I’ve only read half so far (I hadn’t realized it had updated!! 👀👀) but I’m already in love with this fic. Alina’s dialogue and perspective is perfect, her relationship with Mal and the other cartographers is great, and I really enjoy how much personality she has. Aleksander is so smitten, but more than that, his characterization is soft but not weak. It feels almost as if he’s swept up by Alina, instead of the other way around, and I quite like that.

Of parenting by Anuna (Complete)

Alina finds out how her husband handled yet another parenting situation.

---

This is pure adorable Darklina parenting fluff and I live for it. Yet it doesn’t lack depth and in fact explored Alina and Aleksander’s relationship with parenting quite well.

i have a longing by LRCee - @ladylyannastark (Complete)

“So, Alina Starkov, risk-taker, how did you end up being editing’s newest wunderkind?”

Alina Starkov is rising in the publishing world. Singlehandedly responsible for editing (see: rewriting) the hottest book of the year, she lands a coveted spot at Morovoz Publishers. It's the position she's always wanted, at the biggest publishing house in the country. Life is perfect. That crush on her boss though, that's gotta go.

---

OKAY! I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH!! Let me tell you, as someone who is not too fond of Boss/Employee dynamics, I was very wary going into this fic. But boy did it deliver in a way that was perfect for me.

The relationship that develops between Aleksander and Alina is complex but healthy, and it never feels as if there’s too much of a power imbalance or anything that would make Alina feel forced or unhappy. The tension lies purely in how she fears others will perceive her, and not in how unhealthy her relationship with Aleksander is. For somebody who’s often attracted to unhealthy ships, I have to say that my favorite fics are usually ones that don’t have that type of dynamic between the characters. This fic delivers on that.

Also, Aleksander’s POV surrounding his struggle with his Russian heritage and his feelings for Alina is amazing, and has some of the best writing and characterization I’ve seen.

You receive: an evil demon; I receive: human souls by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

The next morning while she tried to tell herself it was a dream, that of course there wasn’t a fucking demon in her house, she found a note taped to her fridge.

“You might eat this shit,” it had written, “but I would like some fucking souls please.”

Darkling Week Prompt 7: free choice. Alina has a demon in her house.

This is absolute crack, and I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me.

---

May I just say that this is the most fun I’ve ever had when reading a fic. It’s interesting with a bit of mystery, and Aleksander as a little shit of a demon is hilarious. Alina in this fic is great too. It’s such a unique take on her POV, especially when you reread it after knowing the ending. 10000/10, this fic is brilliant in every way and I love it.

I had been lost to you, Sunlight by BrytteMystere (Complete)

A Girl became a Woman, became a Sankta, became a Goddess.

Or: An Immortal Alina calls upon merzost to reunite with the Prince of Shadows she lost long ago. She may have lost herself in the process.

But then again, maybe time and endless wars did that instead.

---

You really just have to read this one to get it. It is utterly haunting and fascinating in the best of ways. The writing style is strange and novel and fits so well with the story being told. The composition of the fic as a whole is genius.

I Look Inside Myself (And See My Heart Is Black) by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

"When is a monster not a monster? Why, when you love it, of course."

Written for Darklina Week 2021 - Day 6: Favorite Quote • King & Queen • Monster

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Once more, this author comes through with an absolutely breathtaking writing style and story. The imagery is elegant yet brutal, simultaneously horrifying and glorious. There’s a certain way these stories are written, like fairytales, where the beautiful becomes the macabre and becomes ever more stunning because of it. It’s very dark but in a good way - an almost bewitching way.

Afterlife by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

“You are asking me to leave?”

“Not asking, shadow,” she said. “Telling. Time to get unlost, loser.”

Day 3 Darklina Week prompt: Modern AU (I mean, barely)

Alina expels ghosts from purgatory.

---

@aceofnowhere once again bringing the best of the paranormal to the Grishaverse. Literally everything you write is amazing idk why I’m even pointing out individual fics when I could just rec your whole page. But anyways!! This is fun and interesting and Alina is a badass. Aleksander is, of course, compelling and dark and kind of a little shit, and it’s all incorporated seamlessly into an existential paranormal narrative.

Once Upon a Shooting Star by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

"But most of all, she was drawn to a vast darkness that reached out above all of them, a void so hungry for companionship that she knew she could fulfill."

---

Let. Alina. Be. Feral!! Anyways, I clearly have a type when it comes to storytelling, and it’s whatever the fuck this person has got going on. Feral!Star!Alina is literally the light of my life. Her interactions with not only other people but the world in general are so well done, but my favorite parts about this fic are the numerous ways her relationship with Aleksander is described and depicted.

I love the dark and light imagery, especially with how it’s portrayed as them filling in the gaps of each other’s lives and supporting each other instead of trying to block each other out. There’s such clear passion and joy and love and devotion between them. The central focus of this fic is on her and Aleksander’s relationship, the interplay between them and their powers and the way her light fills his loneliness, the passing of adoration and trust and reliance between them. It’s very beautiful and I love it.

A Blaze of Light by Keira_63 (Complete)

They discover the Sun Summoner in the burnt-out remains of the Shu laboratory in which she has spent the last seven years of her life.

Or, the Darkling finds himself with a Sun Summoner whose greatest wish is to burn Shu Han to the ground. He is happy to oblige her.

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👀👀 Badass Alina and Badass Aleksander. The ultimate power couple, and Alina burning a path through Shu Han before they both burn a path through the world together. The darkness and rage in this one are handled very well, and the way that rage turns to coldness and then resolve is done so well. This fic is very cathartic and also very furious, and reading it is certainly a trip down emotion lane.

One more for the Road by Rist (Complete)

He returns to the war room shaken, and finds an Alina that cannot leave without at least having tried.

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This one hurts so much but its soooo gooood!!! Very smutty but also very tender and very bittersweet. Sad and soft all at once. I just... love the way Alina and Aleksander are written so much, and Alina’s complicated feelings for him are explored in such detail and depth. This one is truly worth the read.

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quillsanddaydreams · 3 years

Text

teddy bear

fred weasley x reader

—author’s note: I really have no explanation for this except that I saw an old fic of mine and the idea just struck. This is a re-imagined version of 'don't say goodbye' from my main i.e. @with-love-anu Fred had been spending lesser and lesser time with you every day and you couldn't take it anymore.

—warning(s): mentions of food and drinks, break up, angst but it's hurt and comfort, low-key descriptions of anxiety attack. gender neutral!reader (pronouns haven't been used throughout the story)

—wordcount: 2,190

The fire crackled orange and gold, painting the dark walls. You were sitting right beside the mantle looking at the wall ticking. It was 11:35pm. Fred should’ve been home hours ago.

Tilting your head, you ran your thumb through the sharp edge’s of the photo frame. Friendly— happy faces smiled back at you. It was you and Fred from your 6th year. He had an arm around you, kissing your cheek before winking at the camera. Oh you remembered that day. Vividly. The two of you had just started dating after months of pining. Fred had been an absolute sweetheart. One date led to the next and you didn’t realise you two had spent years together. From graduating from hogwarts, to working your way up on your jobs, moving in together… You were madly in love and nothing else seemed to have mattered.

Everything looked great. Looked. Your parents often told you about ichs. A common rash. Ignore it and it will go away. Scratch it, and it will make your life hell. They never told you however, how long it takes. And you had been shutting your eyes to this one far too long. Fred was never there. Never. Both of you had jobs. Demanding jobs. Yet it seemed Fred was the only one without a moment to spare.

Your morning began with you getting up and ready for your day. Freshening up, making breakfast for the two of you— storing Fred’s with a quick warming spell and a note because you knew you’ll be gone by the time he woke up. Never having the heart to rouse him you simply smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead, apprating to the ministry. When you came back, he would still be at the shop, working late into the night. Exhaustion caught you, you were unable to keep yourself from falling asleep after 12.

Heaving a sigh, you pushed your head back staring at the ceiling above. The thing was that you missed him. Terribly. You couldn’t even remember the time he held you, let alone ask about your day— it had been months. There had been a hundred times, sitting alone having dinner or seeing his side of the bed empty. Loneliness caught with you reminisened all the times he would pull you over his lap, pressing kisses all over your face. Telling you about the newest invention at his shop. All confrontations with him about the same had ended the same way. With him promising he would try. He never did.

Glancing at the clock again, you felt your body grow hot with anger. It was nearly midnight. You had left him a note to come home early that day. Promotion at work had flashed like the perfect occasion to catch up. Happiness had been bubbling through you all day. Although as time passed, your excitement dulled. The food turned cold and ice in the firewhiskey bucket had melted. Your eyes pricked with tears as you felt your stomach churn. There was a pop as the door opened to reveal a disheveled Fred. He gave you a small smile before moving straight towards the bedroom.

“Fred,” you called out, clearing your throat and wiping away the tears. Did he really not notice? “Did you get my note?”

“Hmm?” he said, shuffling through his drawer. “Oh! Yes I did, sorry but work came up love, couldn’t make it.”

You clenched your jaw.

“Work?” you asked, agitated. “What work keeps you out until midnight Fred?”

His answering sigh infuriated you further.

“You need to change your work schedule, Fred,” you said, crossing your arms. “George comes back to Angelina before 8. I’m sure you can manage before 9. I don't see you Fred. I don't get to talk to you or spend a moment with you. It's like I'm living alone— I spent more time with you before we moved in!”

Fred squeezed his eyes shut, tired.

“I’ll try, I promise,” he said after a minute. “Let’s eat first, shall we?”

“No, Fred. You promise me that every time,” you hissed. “I want you to tell me you’ll be home tomorrow before 9. Like a normal person.”

“What do you want me to do, huh?” Fred snapped. “I thought you would be more supportive of me and my business.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” you threatened. “I’ve been there for you every step of the way. What I am asking you is for you to take out some time for me. I need you to be there for me too!”

“Well excuse me for wanting to earn enough money for our future. For wishing you didn’t have to work to live a happy life.”

“Fred,” you said, your voice a dangerous whisper. “You know exactly how much I love my job. I’ve always been happy working. What has gotten into you? You were always so supportive of me!”

Something crossed Fred’s eye and he took a step back, shaking himself. He took a deep breath.

“Listen,” Fred said calmly. “It’s late now, we can talk about it tomorrow.”

“When, Fred? When? In the morning, when you are asleep or at night which is the time right now?”

Fred remained silent. It felt like you were bursting. All the frustration, sadness and disappointment poured in.

“It hurts, Fred. It hurts and it feels like I’m alone in this. People ask me how we are doing and I don’t know what to tell them. I have no idea what’s going on with the person I live with. I don’t even know where our relationship is goin—”

“You know what?” Fred said, finally losing his cool, throwing his hands in the air. “If you feel so alone, maybe you wouldn’t find a difference if we even separate.”

You gasped.

“I’m going to give you a moment to take that back,” you hushed. Fred crossed his arms. “Think about it before telling me you meant it.”

“Listen, you know I put my work above anything else,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I’ve always wanted to be rich enough so people like Malfoy wouldn’t dare to insult me or my family. That shop. It’s my life. It’s everything that lets me afford the things I never could.”

“So the shop’s more important to you than having me stay?” you said, your throat heavy. Digging your nails into the palm of your hand you searched Fred’s face. The face you had fallen in love with, the one that didn’t quite meet your eyes now which forebode tears. No you couldn’t cry now. Not when he disregarded your job you had been so passionate about, not when his status in life was more important to him. When Fred didn’t say anything, you let out a dry laugh. Shaking your head you moved towards your wardrobe, your head thumping. You took out a couple of your clothes, money and some documents, packing up a bag. Fred stared at you wide eyed as you went for the door.

“What are you doing?” he demanded as you opened the door moving out.

“Well, since you don’t care if we separate and your shop is the only thing you’re living for; it only seems fair that I leave,” you said, furiously rubbing away the tear that fell down your cheek. “Oh and Weasley? I hope you become the wealthiest wizard in the country.”

The last thing you saw was Fred’s shook form before a familiar house came into view. Knocking on your best friend’s door, you wondered whether you should have taken a hotel. It was very late after all. Before you could turn back and leave, Ruhaan opened up. He looked sleepy but his expression changed on seeing you.

“Hey, are you alright? What’s the—”

“Can I stay here tonight?” you blurted. “I’ll crash on the couch... ”

Ruhaan wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leading you in.

“Of course you can,” he said as your throat felt heavy. “You’re always welcome here, what happened?”

“I… we broke up,” you croaked. Admitting things aloud often made things real. Stating your breakup to Ruhaan made you really assess the situation. Blood rushed to your head as you realised you really just left back someone you had loved for six long years. Still did. Your legs wobbled making you lose your balance but Ruhaan held you steady.

“I can’t believe it… I… love him…” you gulped.

“Let me first get you some tea,” he said, rubbing your sides.

-♡♡♡-

Fred was a mess. He fell on the floor with a thump, realising what happened moments ago. You left. The person he had loved all his life had left him. And it was his fault. All those months he had been trying to get the latest product to work. George had given up on it long ago knowing well how dangerous it was to work on. Yet he stood back, working extra hours determined to get it done. It made him lose sight of what was important, you. His heart constricted as he felt like he couldn’t breath. Hot tears fell down his cheeks as he let out a frustrated shout. He had finally lost everything.

For the next few days, Fred worked as an auto pilot. Numbness had caught up to him. He couldn’t bring himself to eat or sleep. Your thoughts plagued him. It was like he was watching your face fall as you moved out over and over again. The apartment felt devoid of spirit— dark and cold. Fred missed you, your smile as he sleepily joined you in bed, pulling you closer; your notes with little doodles telling him to take care… George vaguely knew about what happened, he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it. Visits to your best friend’s place have always gone the same. Ruhaan told him you weren’t there.

Fred wanted— needed you. He loved you. Always did. And he would be damned if he failed to show you. Again. Washing his face, he apparated to Ruhaan’s door again. Biting the inside of his cheek, he waited as a familiar face came into view sighing on spotting him.

“Fred,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’ve told you…”

“Please,” he said, cutting him off. “Please, I know what I’ve done. Terrible won’t start to describe it. Just give me a chance to talk. I won’t push. I won’t. I am really ashamed of the things I did. At least let me make it right…”

Ruhaan searched his face, mentally debating with himself. Fred was pleading, begging. He would do anything to make this right.

“Alright, don’t screw this up,” Ruhaan said, ushering him in directing him towards your room. “The first door on the right.”

Fred nodded, moving briskly to where he indicated. Heart pounding, he knocked. Your voice came throaty, calling him in. When he saw you, his breath caught up. You looked terrible. Dark circles under red puffy eyes, nestled up in blankets. Noticing him, you sat up straighter.

“I told Ruhaan I didn’t want to see you,” you muttered. Fred moved to sit beside you. You looked away.

“I…” he began, not finding the correct words. “I brought this for you…”

He fished out a small box out of his pocket, handing it to you. It transformed into a teddy bear as the pack touched you, splaying itself over your hand like a rock. You narrowed your eyes at Fred.

“I’ve been working on this in secret for the last six months,” he rasped. “A teddy bear for blue days. The more I worked on it, the stiffer it became. I could not imagine what exactly I was doing wrong. I tried charming it, transforming it, twisting and twerking it around...”

“Fred,” you said, cutting him off. He blinked as streaks of heavy tears fell down his cheek.

“I was so fucking angry and determined to make it work that I couldn’t see anything else than that,” he sobbed. “I’ve said and done things that I couldn’t forgive myself for. I’ve made promises I never followed and I’ve let you go. I… I know that there is no reason for you to even hear me out right now. But I can’t lose you. I can’t… I can’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to have you back but I don’t want to say goodbye to the best thing in my life. Please. You don’t have to excuse me but give me one opportunity to make it up to you.”

You inhaled sharply.

“You’ll come home before 9?” you asked.

“At seven everyday.”

“You’ll spare time for me?”

“Dates every other weekend.”

“You’ll cook everything for the next 3 weeks?” you said as Fred let out a breathy chuckle.

“Only your favourites.”

You looked at his face, wet from crying. Eyes praying for your answer.

“You’ll kiss me right now?” you said as a dull surprise crossed his face. He cradled your face, kissing you softly. You closed your eyes, body relaxing for the first time in days.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice low. You held his hand, squeezing it.

“I know.”

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

#fred #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagine #fred x reader #fred x you #fred x y/n #from anu's quill #hp #harry potter #george weasley

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akvtsuki-ari · 4 years

Text

Around Your Neck

Warning: smut, unprotected sex/creampie, post!prison reid, fingering, oral both recieving, throatfucking, slapping, bruises idk??

Length: 4.8k

Authors note: you know that tiktok audio that goes “whats wrong with you?,” over and over again. thats how writing this fic made me feel. based loosely after a conversation me and my wife @pastanest had sdkjhjkef and that gifset of spencer with that gold chain on that has me so tight. so disrespectful...

Edit: heres the gifset!!!

Plot Summary: Prison changed Spencer. That damn chain around his neck made sure you remembered.

Spencer Reid was… different after prison. It was something about him when he left, like a part of him was always far away somewhere when you spoke to him. He was fractured it seemed like - even though he was saving lives everyday there always seemed to be something on his mind. He was still Spencer of course, still sweet-talking and soothing when he needed to be. He never lost that odd charm about him and after those first few months he grew back to be more comfortable in his own skin but there was just something there. Something on the back of his mind that he seemed to be handling alone.

You’d been with Spencer for a while before he went to jail, a few years and other traumatic events later - you had an idea of how Spencer dealt with pain and difficulty. He liked to let things sit and stir inside of him for a long time before he lets it show - then he gets snappy and mean for a bit after that till he sorta just breaks. In many ways, when something bad happened to Spencer you sorta just knew what things would be like for a bit, but no matter how many times he slipped you caught him. When he got shot and nearly died twice, you were there right next to him - making sure that he was going to be okay. That's just what you did, to say you were Spencers ride-or-die would be an understatement. You gave him whatever he needed, whether that be some tough love or being pampered for a few days straight.

Spencer knew that about you, and even before prison he had this affinity for you that always made sure you knew how much he adored you. He wanted you to know that he only ever had eyes for you and that he was beyond grateful for how patient you seemed and how loving you were to him. Spencer made sure he never stopped chasing you before he went to prsion. He bought you flowers, supported you when you switched careers, and generally made sure he returned the favor in loving you but he was always chasing you still. Part of it was out of disbelief that someone could love him like that, but the other part was out of insecurity. You always told him you were always his, but he never seemed to believe you.

Prison changed a lot of things for Spencer, but that thing about him chasing you was what changed most. Spencer was always possessive in his own right, but he wasn’t jealous necessarily. He just wanted to make sure you were okay and that no one was fucking with you or bothering you. It didn’t bother him before if you talked and flirted with Luke, or if some guy was hitting on you because you were normally so adamantly rejecting it. He wasn’t someone who was particularly upset about not having claimed you as his - before he didn’t really care.

For the longest time you didn’t really notice just how much Spencer had actually changed how he acted towards you - mostly because he was still really sweet to you. It wasn’t like he was treating you any worse, or necessarily any better. It was honest to God, just different, more.. something. You don’t wanna use the word aggressive because Spencer isn’t the aggressive type. Spencer was calculated, and he could be angry sometimes but not often. He didn’t have a shorter fuse - hell, you could argue that prison made him more patient since he was often just lying in wait.

The best way to describe it is probably just more confident, really. He was assertive about you being his and his tolerance for crude jokes that came your way was a lot lower. Most of the time, at least before, he’d let shit slide if it was too small. Nowadays though, if he even catches something bothering you he steps in - always finding the small of your back and pulling you closer to him like he was keeping you close to protect you. He doesn’t curse them out or get angry, just stares at them with a blank expression that's arguably more intimidating.

You were a flirt by nature, too. You were never trying to flirt with people, but you’re one for flattery and compliments so it sure can be read that way. You loved receiving the same energy so when you did your jokes and compliments would increase ten-fold. It doesn’t bother Spencer because he knows you’re just being silly but before, he didn’t mind if the other person was serious because he knew that you’d never continue like that. Now though, when someones dropping any lines your way he’ll tell them to leave you alone no question, unconcerned about any consequence or even if that person could beat Spencer's ass. Spencer wasn’t concerned about strength like he used to be - and when you asked him about why that was he simply shrugs.

“I’ll play dirty if it gets there,”

Those were all small details but there were so many of them that it was starting to pile up and draw you to interesting conclusions. Sex was also a clear example of change. The first time the two of you had sex when he came back from prison was relatively the same, but you could tell he was holding something back. For the longest time, you didn’t really know what until it was the heat of the moment and Spencer wrapped his hands around your throat and ask if he could choke you - something that you’d ask for previously that he was rather unsure about doing. It was the way Spencer's eyes looked into your eyes when he did it, the way his fingers curled almost carelessly around your delicate neck - so instinctively as if the whole endeavor was so natural. When he lets you go and kisses you - you’re more than into it but you can’t help but wonder where his desire came from. You didn’t really mind how Spencer got when he was like that but damn, you couldn’t say you saw it coming.

The more you thought about it, the more it became clear to you that Spencer has changed a whole lot more than you understood initially, but maybe the last straw was when you made a sorta silly joke about the necklace worn around his neck after prison. It was a thin gold chain, for the most part tucked underneath his clothes when he went to work. He said in many cultures gold is a symbol for blessing and spirituality and he wanted to keep that with him, and that a lot of other people in prison wore gold chains. You made some stupid joke that if he were gonna wear it all the time - he should at least have your name around his neck. You knew stuff like that wasn’t really Spencer thing so when you’d said it, even though it was pretty hot, you were mostly just joking.

It’d been a few weeks since then. Spencer had a case that needed his attention and you were at the bullpen with Penelope waiting for everyone's arrival. You were nearly bursting from anticipation, a busy case that made you particularly clingy and had you missing Spencer more than you can explain. There everyone was, walking through the doors when Spencer walks through and wraps you up in his arms. Spencer picks you up and spins you around for a few seconds before giving you a small smile. You just hug him again, noticing the cool metal on your skin when you do. You pull back before Spencer speaks and look down - his chains never had a pendant before

There it was. Your name, hangin around his neck like it was nothing. Spencer was sporting it with a more casual version of what he normally wears, which was basically just no tie. A white shirt and blazer, and your name around his neck. You try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your jeans while your fingers went up carefully to touch it. Spencer gives a coy smile, watching the way your eyes look at it so hazy. Just like he wanted. He places his hand on top of yours, seeing your pretty eyes flick up to meet his. You can barely contain yourself - the chain around his neck always brought you to some interesting places but to see your name - your fucking name, around his neck so casually brought you somewhere rather interesting.

“Um - nice necklace,” you squeak out. Spencer laughs brightly, his arms circling around your waist as you bury your face in his chest instinctively . You can feel the way his laugh reverberates and you just whine in annoyance.

“I’m glad you liked it, might be a little awkward otherwise,” Spencer jokes. It was your turn to giggle, Spencer left terribly endeared by the sound.

“You ready to head home, doctor?,” you say softly. Spencer nods, taking your hand as you lead the way and feeling his heart burst out of his chest, grateful to have you on him always.

You guess that Spencer buying your name as a pendant on his chain was really what set you off in realizing just how possessive he was. He didn’t take it off around the house, walking around your shared apartment shirtless with it on at all times. He’d play with it constantly, fingers brushing the smooth metal while he was doing something a little mindless or that required his focused attention. It was driving you nuts, the image of Spencers chain hanging in your face was already one you returned to a lot but - now that your name was there it made the stakes of such a situation so much higher.

Spencers just sitting and reading the paper when you finally are fed up. He always liked reading the actual newspaper, claims there's nothing quite as good but you’re tired of… well, you’re not sure what you were tired of but you knew you needed his attention asap before you lost your marbles for good. You walk over to him, moving the newspaper carefully out of his hands and folding it before sitting across his lap and crossing your arms. Spencer laughs loudly, especially as you take his arms and wrap them around your waist. Spencer just gives you a quirked eyebrow, a questioning look. You shake your head, because you’re honestly kind of unsure for what you’re asking for - you just wanted something. Dick, maybe.

You give Spencer a look as you take his chain around your fingers again and play with it’s pendant. He already knows why you’re here, but he decides to let you figure it out. He knew before that you were the submissive type, but his response to that changed in prison. He carried that picture of you with him everyday, looked at it for hours sometimes so he could sleep - and it pissed him off when people would see it and talk about you. Spencer missed a lot of things outside of jail but you were number one - your love and affection of course, but there were other things too. Prison made Spencer particular about his possessions, that picture of you was one of the few things that was his and his alone. He didn’t let anyone go as far as touch that picture, so when he saw you again that possession just carried over. He didn’t really care, especially since it didn’t seem to bother you. Prison made Spencer realize how much he really cared for his possessions, books, chess boards, you - all things he already cared about but became a lot more particular after the fact.

Spencer just knows. When you sit on his lap, all he can picture is him out in the yard but instead of isolated and paranoid, he’s with you by his side giving him all the restraint in the world. He’d be damned if he let anyone take that from him. You give Spencer a look he can’t explain, there's a certain innocence written on your face that makes Spencer's chest hot. His hand sits between your bare thigh as you sit on his lap, and the second you look down on it, you seem to get the clue. Spencer grips your thigh, eyes following the way yours move to try and make sense of what's happening. Your eyes are fluttery, as your head twists to meet Spencers, the two of you nose to nose. Spencer just gives you a smile, before looking down at your lips then right back up to you. You blush.

“You’re close,” you say, not knowing what else to do. Spencer chuckles.

“Would you like me to move?,” Spencer asks politely. You shake your head.

“No,” you say stubbornly. Spencer licks his lips for a second before smiling again.

“Okay. Then, what would you like me to do?,” Spencer says, holding back a laugh. Your eyes fixate on his lips when he talks, and you scrunch your face up.

“Kiss me,” you mumble. Spencer grins ear to ear.

“Say please,” Spencer replies, leaning in as his lips brush onto yours. He pulls away before you can kiss and you sigh.

“Please,” you manage out meekly.

Spencer pushes air out of his nose before he does just that. His lips are smooth, stubble touching your smooth skin as your hand moves to one side of his face. Spencer smiles into the kiss, feeling the way you melt into him. The moments before things get heated is fast, Spencer's hands underneath your shirt as his tongue slides between your lips. He kisses you slowly, patiently but that’s not quite what you want. You give him a whine, but he shows the same attitude. You keep kissing like that for a while, moving yourself to straddling Spencer's lap before using your teeth to lightly tug on Spencer's bottom lip. He gives you a small groan and you return it with a noise of approval. Spencer pulls back to look at you, his eyes telling you to be careful but his body language betraying him. You can feel the tent in Spencer pants as you weigh yourself down on his lap.

“Don’t hold back,” you ask, hoping it’s the right thing. Spencer gives you a weary look.

“Are you sure?'' Spencer asks. You nod, eyes looking into his.

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for go,” you say repeating your safewords to him. Spencer gives you a kiss on the forehead, both for remembering your safeword but as an assurance. He’d never really been rough with you - he was a soft dom at heart and wouldn’t go as far as hurting you. You just give him a pleading look - you wanted him to be rough with you, bruise and mark you, just for a little while. The idea made your skin flush, but who was Spencer to deny you of such a request. Spencer nods softly, leading you to the bedroom.

Spencers the first to close the door, pushing you up against as he lifts one of your legs up and kisses you slowly - fingers pressing into your thighs as Spencers tongue toys with yours. He always kisses you like that, slowly but surely introducing as much of himself to you as possible - his erections pressed against you when he does. The sound that leaves your mouth is a cross between a whimper and a moan - a broken sound that makes Spencer a little more eager. He smiles when you make, giving you a look of surprise but you don’t have anything to say. Spencer smiles down at you.

“Go lay down for me,” Spencer requests. You just nod as you get comfortable on the bed - watching Spencer take off his grey sweatpants and boxers, the chain still around his neck. Your eyes follow his figure, landing on his erection before widening. Spencer just chuckles at you - signalling for you to take your shirt off which you do with no question. You watch his eyes as the rack themselves over your figure, panties forbidding the rest of you from being on display. Spencer walks towards the bed, pulling your legs over the edge as he kneels between them. You yelp at the sudden move, but quickly settle up again.

One thing is for certain, Spencer always wants to make you feel good first. It didn’t really matter what headspace he was in - whether or not he was super dominant like he was today or if he was super submissive like he was when he was stressed. His touch is careful, your legs over his shoulders pull him closer instinctively but he doesn’t seem to mind. He merely pushes your panties to the side before he eats you out, kissing your clit to be gentlemanly. His tongue is careful at first, experimental lickes before he lays his tongue flat - with a soft rhythm, slowly increasing his pace to your pleasure. He gets you close like that, pausing for a few seconds on moving before sucking softly on you, making you twitch your legs. Spencers careful about this part, his speed only testament to how much he can push you, the knot in your stomach carefully being undone as Spencer continues.

“Can I cum, please?,” your voice scrapes the surface as you ask. Spencer is busied with his mouth but he hums - feeling you unravel as your orgasm hits you with astonishing impact. Spencer feels the way you pulsate on his tongue, humming again so you feel that little vibration that sends your hands in Spencer's hair to pull you off. You’re trying to catch your breath as you finish, Spencer still adamantly eating you - making your body shiver with pleasure. He holds your hips down for a few minutes like that. You don’t really want to argue with him but you’re unsure how much you can handle as he makes you cum for the second time, a small wave of pleasure brushing against your spine as cum for the second time. When Spencer pulls away from you, orgasm covers his lips and manages to get onto his stubble. He gives you a light smile as he leans up to kiss you, hands holding your thighs as he does. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

“Do you think you can handle letting me fuck your throat?,Spencer asks. You give him a look of surprise, trying to remember if you still had any cough drops before nodding - more than eager to let him do that if that's what he wanted to do. You just nod, ready to get on your knees before Spencer stops you in your tracks.

“I wanted to do it while you were laying down, you know,” Spencer says, voice unsure. You’re surprised but you just shrug, laying down, your head back on the edge of the bed. It weird to see everything upside down like this, so you just shut your eyes and open your mouth up. Spencers cock twitches at the site of you laid back for him like this, pushing past your lips a lips a bit, feeling your tongue along his tip. You pat Spencers leg, letting him know you were comfortable to let him go further, feeling his length push past your throat. You let your throat relax, gripping your thumb as Spencer buries himself nearly fully in you. His fingers find the column of your neck, brushing the bulge in your throat which makes it hard for him to contain himself. Spencers fucks your throat slowly, carefully not to push you too hard even though you were more than ready for it. You steadied yourself, the other hand in your underwear rubbing your clit to the feeling Spencer fucking you like this.

“You’re so pretty with me down your throat like this,” Spencer comments. You moan around his length, letting him know he’s free to continue.

“Prison made me think of all the things I could be doing to you, fucking you like you were the only thing I thought about all day. Maybe because you were,” Spencer laughs when he speaks, his hands reaching down to toy with your nipples, his fingers carefully twisting them, relishing the way you writhe under his touch. You tighten your throat around Spencers length causing him to jerk into your throat - sorta how you planned for this to go anyway. Spencers expression changes as he watches you take all of him in, his hand lightly around your neck, maybe too turned on by how the air leaves your lungs. When you pull out, spit covers your face and chin - but you just give Spencer a thumbs up and a smile, not phased at all. Spencer didn’t think he could be anymore in love with a person, yet here he was.

Spencer helps you sit back up, sitting for a few moments to readjust to the world around you. Spencer cups your jaw, pulling your face to look at him - giving you the most adoring eyes like you didn’t just take his dick all the way down your throat, well that may be the reason why. Spencer leans down to kiss your forehead, hands around the base of your neck as he does.

“Good girl,” Spencers use of that phrase is spare, only using it when he really meant it. It fills you with a certain intensity you weren’t expecting, your throat already a little sore from the endeavor. You give Spencer a small hum of approval.

“Thank you, Sir,” The honorific makes Spencer's heart ache. Spencer was a soft dom, which mostly meant that in bed you called him by his name. Sir was a sometimes thing, like when he got rough on the occasion. Sir was earned, just liked good girl was.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty girl,” Spencer asks. You do as you're told, arching your back completely for Spencer without questions. Spencer admires you, running your hands over the curves of your body, admiring the little wet spot that forms on your slit for him, cum running down your legs. Spencer wanted to fuck the shit out of you, wanted to see his cum spill out of you - as filthy as the thought was. You’d always talked about letting him go raw but Spencer was normally too cautious. You getting pregnant was much less of a consequence these days, like if anyone were to carry his baby into the world it’d be you and no one else.

If anyone got to fuck you like that, it needed to be him and no one else. That was one thing Spencer knew was so different. Spencer needed to fuck you like that, raw and shameless just like only he could. Spencers fingers are too curious for his own good, one hand around your waist to play with your clit, and the other posing two fingers inside of you - brushing up against your gspot with ease. You shudder under Spencers touch, getting fingered from the back like this wasn’t what you were expecting but you weren’t upset about it. Spencers voice is warm in your ear.

“You’re gonna have to cum one more time before I even think about fucking you,” Spencer warns. You just nod, chewing your lip as Spencer pads his fingers along you, curling them up for you to feel. He stretches you out comfortably like that, and you’re unable to really think clearly. His mouth works on your neck, biting hickies onto your throat as he does. The bruises are red and pulsating, the dark marks only bound to get darker and more visible as the days pass. Not that Spencer minded, though you did. It was a worry for later though, of course. You cum around Spencer's fingers again, unable to comprehend the level of exhaustion that seemed to come over. Still, you’d be damned if Spencer didn’t fuck you senseless. You tighten around Spencers fingers.

“Spencer, fuck - please, please,” the begging has no particulars. It’s never for anything, instead a mindless response to Spencer and his ability to turn you on this much, to the point it was all you thought about. You were exhausted but all you wanted was for him to cum inside you and make you feel so pliable. You always were, for him anyways.

“Sir - fuck me raw, please,” that last plea was a demand. Spencer groaned into your neck, nodding lightly, no response to your request. His fingers burned bruises into your waist, gripping on to you like he was gonna lose you if he didn’t. That feeling comes at you so quickly you can barely make sense of it, Spencers hands rhythmic in their ability as you convulse, cumming around Spencers calloused fingers and feeling every inch of them in you. You whine in disappointment when he pulls out. He just chuckles, taking his fingers and slipping them between your lips and down the back of your throat. You don’t choke, unsurprising to Spencer really. Saliva coats his fingers which he smears across your lips, just degrading enough for you to giggle.

“Lay on your back from me, I wanna see you,” Spencer doesn’t need to finish his sentence to say that he wants to see how his cum fills you up, such a pretty sight it doesn’t need any words for description.

You lay down, waiting for Spencer who doesn’t wait to get on top of you. That’s when you catch it again - his fucking chain. His name around your neck, hickies from you around his neck just like your name was. Spencer gets on top of you, chain hanging from around neck and all you can think is how fucking badly you needed this man inside of you. The way he had you, feeling this possessive over him made you fucking insane. You knew he’d always keep that chain on, like you were always hanging around his neck anyways but you needed to do more. You wanted to scratch his back up, steal his soul when you gave him head - everything, you wanted to do everything for that man. When he fucks you and you feel all 7inches, stretching you out - cumming inside you like he owned you because he did. So carelessly fucking you, making you cry out his name and now he had your name hanging around his neck. You’d be damned if another person even got near him.

“Say my name when you fuck me,” you request. Spencer groans, slowly doing just as he promised, hitting your cervix before bringing his hips up - ready to fuck the daylights out of you with no question. Your eyes fixated on the jewelry that adorned him as he pounded into you, your voice totally lost to you as you feel his cock pulsate inside of you. He was relentless, the sound of his hips making contact with your backside filling the room with such a filthy sound. It was filthy the way Spencer fucked you. He leans down to you, his chain resting on your chest as he hands move to the side of your face. He wants to hit you, call you his pretty slut before he fills you with his cum. You just flutter your lashes and before he can ask.

“Green,”

Spencer's hands hit the side of your face roughly, the stinging sensation rather pleasing in all reality. Spencer's voice is low, an octave lower and hoarse as he pounds you out like it was nothing.

“You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you baby? Taking all of me in, like it’s easy. What were you doing while I was gone? Bet you were getting ready for me do this to you, weren’t you. Did any of those toys you used feel as good as me,” Spencers words are callous, and degrading but you loved every second of it. You shake your head.

“Nothing was as good as you,” your response was forced out. Spencer laughs, voice tinged with something dark.

“Nothing,” Spencer pushes his hips as far as he can, making you cry out as he reached the edge “Nothing ever will be,” Spencer finished

You tighten yourself around Spencer, looping your legs around his waist to make sure all of him shoots inside you. He finishes with a loud groan, fucking the cum into you a last few times before pulling out. You’re more turned on than you know what to do with so you loop your fingers in Spencer's chain and kiss him, wet and sloppy as he finishes. He presses his forehead to yours as he kisses you, eyes locking with yours as the both you stare at eachother in euphoric post sex glow. Spencer breaks out into a giggle as he comes down, falling into you when he pulls out and you do the same.

“All this because of a chain?,Spencer asks. You just nod, placing a kiss in Spencers messy hair before sighing.

“If you ever date anyone else, I’ll be the person in prison,” you say stubbornly. Spencer just laughs a little bit more, the two of you lying comfortably as Spencer places kisses over some of the hickies he left.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love,”

----

taglist: @cynbx @zephyr-studiesjp @skrrrrrrrrrrt @reid-187 @louistwinslover @pastanest @nomajdetective @iamburdened

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds self insert #sfhajk this fic was interesting to write tbh.#idk how to feel yet #dom!spencer

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plan-d-to-i · 2 years

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Hi! I'm damn scared TGCF and SV will blow up like MDZS. The stans are gonna murder Hua Cheng. I mean, look at the amount of hate Lan Wangji gets. Hua Cheng doesn't stand a chance. And if I see one morally gray Xie Lian take I'll straight up go on a murder spree.

Forget about LBH. If there is one actual Morally gray MXTX MC, it's him. I don't even want to think about what the toxic stan's will do to him.

Also, Every MXTX novel has a Jiang Cheng. SV has Shen Jiu and TGCF has Mu Qing. Except Mu Qing is better than JC. And even Shen Jiu is kind of better than JC.

jc stans see jc in every other work they consume bc "jiang cheng" is just a place holder for them. He's their self insert. The only way they can consume media is if they self insert into it, so every other piece of media they end up "enjoying"- meaning that just offers them a character they can relatively easily project on- will invariably have a "jiang cheng" in their mind. And ofc since their version of "jiang cheng" has really little to do w the actual character there's very few criteria that need to be met for those comparisons. MXTX doesn't really have another character exactly like jc, except for maybe qi rong, but even he provides some comic relief- Mainly when he's getting his ass kicked.

If tgcf/svsss blow up naturally there will be a more terrible takes. Especially depending on what the tgcf LA will do with the story line & characters. People already try to make Hua Cheng seem like a creepy stalker and complain Xie Lian isn't eVen tHAt goOd... Maybe I'm just unfamiliar with the nature of fandoms at large but I do find it odd for people who hate the mcs of particular work to then nevertheless squat in that fandom just to keep shitting on them (or the author of the work for successfully writing the genre they're choosing to consume).

#mdzs #answers #tgcf

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iamnmbr3 · 3 years

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I saw the ask about having the person feeling like that the Loki show is objectively bad. I liked the show, here is why.

I love Loki, and I love the MCU, but I don’t go into any of it expecting consistency. Tony and Loki are my favourite.

Tony goes through character development in his own movies, IM3 especially that main canon just kinda ignores. So I didn’t go into work he Loki show expecting them to get him consistent or right. I just went in prepared to enjoy the show for what it is in isolation. I also know that no one looks at the stories they write for the MCU critically, so I try and turn off that for a first time watch.

I really like the show, that doesn’t mean I think they made it consistent or in character for Loki. I get why people don’t like it.

I really like the TVA and all the concepts it introduced. I really liked seeing Tom acting his heart out. And I really like Loki/Sylvie because I find something very compelling about a character who hates themselves, meeting another version of themselves and being able to love them. It is not a ship I’m going to write fic about but I like them within the show.

Basically what I am saying is that I go into MCU media with the expectation they will mess up at least one character or plot point badly every time. I like the media for what it is, and I appreciate whatever it brings to the table that I can then cannibalise into da works.

Yeah that's fair. Everyone has a right to their own opinion. Fandom is better when there are a diversity of opinions and we can all respect each other and engage in open and good faith discussion rather than attacking people for having the "wrong" views or trying to harass them out of fandom.

For me personally I feel like the show fails on 3 fronts.

1) To me it fails as a Loki show. I really enjoy Loki as a character and I wanted a show about him. And I didn't personally see him in the show at all. I saw a completely different character who does not behave, speak, act, respond, react, stand, emote, or make choices like Loki does. He doesn't even LOOK like Loki because they did his hair and makeup wrong. And that's really what I wanted. I didn't want Larry (as I call the show character). I wanted Loki. That was what was advertised and to me he was so ooc that he was unrecognizable. If I just saw a clip out of context and didn't know what it was from I would have assumed I was seeing Tom in a totally different role.

Thor Ragnarok felt like a different take on Loki that definitely retconned some of his personality and history, but still felt like an alternate interpretation of the same character in the sense that I could recognize the character as Loki (albeit a different version of him); some people liked that, other didn't. But here it wasn't that. It just felt like a completely new (and to me far less interesting and compelling) character. And beyond that it felt like the show went out of its way to make a mockery of the character played by Tom and by extension anyone who ever cared about Loki's character. Like it felt like a mean spirited caricatured parody. Loki is also extremely sidelined in what is supposed to be his own show. And it most certainly didn't feel like a show about Loki, which is what I wanted. So for me the show didn't provide what I was looking for.

2) To me it also fails on its own merits. If I view it in isolation without comparing it to previous canon and just view it as its own thing it also fails. The quality of the dialogue felt very poor. None of the humor made me laugh and it all felt very juvenile and forced. The plotting and characterization seemed nonsensical and all over the place. Like Sylvie sets off those charges and the episode ends on a cliffhanger with that but then it's never addressed later.

The reason that Loki and Syvie allegedly falling in love breaks the timeline didn't really make sense. Sylvie is going around murdering timekeepers and yet Mobius somehow immediately like and trusts her and says he prefers her to Loki. Loki and Sylvie are simultaneously presented as the same person and also totally different people. Loki allegedly learns self love but we never see that - we see him call himself degrading things like pathetic. And we see him think that Sylvie is better than him. That doesn't seem like self love. The romance feels extremely rushed and unrealistic and awkward and we aren't given a compelling reason for why they are in love or what they even have in common. Sylvie doesn't really have much of a character. Mobius and Loki don't interact much and Mobius consistently mistreats him but Loki somehow thinks of him as a friend. Mobius is portrayed as a good guy for cheerfully carrying out the TVA's ends but Kang is a villain for creating the TVA. The TVA seems to be all made up of humans even though it's in charge of all reality.

If Loki did bad things, then the TVA did worse things and thus are not moral authorities. If the TVA’s actions are acceptable then so are Loki’s. If Loki was wrong to violently impose his will on a planet (let’s forget about the context with Thanos for a minute) then the TVA is wrong to violently impose its will on all of reality in order to eliminate free will. If Loki was wrong to kill a few people, then the TVA was certainly wrong to kill trillions. And thus neither Mobius nor the TVA are moral authorities when it comes to Loki because they are infinitely worse. If the actions that Mobius and the TVA took are acceptable, then there is no reason to criticize Loki because he did far less than them. Etc etc etc.

The cinematography is also very poor and unprofessional and the costumes look extremely cheap and unprofessional. The whole story feels confused and disjointed. The directing is bad because the actors are all very capable but the performances often feel wooden and forced and fake. And the pacing is terrible. A lot of it drags and then plot twists come out of nowhere with no setup so it just makes them feel jarring rather than earned or entertaining.

3) To me it also fails on a moral front. The show contains a lot of problematic depictions and messages and promotes messages that are offensive or even downright harmful.

Mobius gleefully subjects Loki to physical torture by leaving him to be repeatedly beaten in the genital area. This is a very clearcut and straight forward example of physical torture. And Mobius feels no compassion for Loki or remorse over what he has done to him. If anything he seems to find it amusing. And certainly the audience is supposed to find it amusing (which is gross and harmful messaging on Disney’s part). He also subjects Loki to psychological torture. This is a fact. There are multiple instances in the show where the TVA and Mobius subject Loki to treatment that would meet the legal definition of torture under both US law and international law. Furthermore, Mobius and the TVA are holding Loki against his will and forcing him to labor without compensation or any hope of release because they view him as belonging to a group of people (Variants) that they view as inferior and not really people. That’s a pretty textbook case of slavery. So objectively Mobius is Loki’s jailer, torturer, captor, and enslaver. And yet Mobius is presented as justified in what he does to Loki. The writer and director have even called it therapy. And a result many people have parroted this which is very harmful.

The queer “representation” feels straight out of bigoted propaganda. Loki’s personality traits have been retconned to map onto harmful stereotypes about queer men. He is overly expressive, makes grand gestures, is flamboyant, cowardly, dishonest, weak, bad at fighting, lazy, spineless, meek, unused to exercise etc. Now a person could be all these things and also happen to be queer. However, Loki was never like this before. His character was retconned to be this way only in this series where he is confirmed to be queer.

Furthermore, the entire premise of the series seems to be that it is funny and entertaining and justified when Loki is dehumanized, mocked, humiliated, hurt, tortured, beaten, assaulted, and/or robbed of his dignity. That’s the premise. That’s the whole show.

In addition to pro torture and pro authoritarianism and pro victim blaming messaging the show also has problematic depictions of black characters (see here and here), Asian people (see here) and also has a lot of fludphobia and transphobia issues. And much more.

@nikkoliferous has put together a great compendium here of various posts explaining the various issues with the show if you're curious about why some people disliked it.

#asks #loki tv series #loki series #loki 2021 #loki show #loki tv show #Marvel #MCU

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mr-nauseam · 3 years

Note

I see you finally stumbled over the Mary Russel series and man I have such complicated emotions about those books. On one hand King writes excellent mysteries and I'm kinda wanting to abscond with the foundation for one or two of them for my own stories - never let it be said that I'm above plagiarizing from the professionals, besides as Holmes one said it's all been done before anyway - but man she does not know how to write relationships.

Watson's character is imho the least of it. Yes he sorta falls into the idiot!Watson trope but he comes across as a fairly loveable man all the same once King gets into her stride of the series, though he doesn't appear very often. But while things start out pretty good with Russel and Holmes the end of book two kills both Russel's character, King's version of Holmes and the relationship between them stone dead and none of it ever really recovers from what she did. It's not the marrying thing, that could have worked, it's the final part of the lead up.

Sorry I just have several ready to go rants about that specific part of the series and... yeah, it pretty much ruins everything else for me. I won't burden you with anything beyond this though unless you're actually interested.

So what you see revolves around a post that no longer exists because when I get upset I tend to be passionate and intense but after a while I calm down and see things clearly, in this case I decided better to delete the post but a summary about it: I discovered Mary Russell, and I was curious about her book series, because the girl seems great and because regardless of the perspectives I have on the character it seemed that in the end someone had written a good straight romance with Holmes. My annoyance came mainly from the reviews I read about the books and the character, since in these many people they decide to belittle Watson to favor or pay compliments to Mary R. which bothered me and that is why I began to complain.

Now yes, eventually I would get there because apart from my essays on how the idea of Holmes being straight is absurd or that women will never be his cup of tea I have this campaign called "At least learn to write a heterosexual romance for the God Sakes! & Leave Irene alone. " I have a post about that but I think I did it in Spanish and post on facebook, I could translate it and share here. but idk XD

The writer as I saw seems to be good, come on if she won awards it is because she has talent! In some reviews they put fragments of her writing and what I read seemed interesting and attractive! Besides, as I said, Mary R seems to have her own charm as a character. BTW several books have intense and eye-catching titles (this is important to me and is actually why I didn't read A Study In Scarlet first but I read The Valley of Fear instead). And there are some very good plots! So I'm very curious about your thoughts, tell me what you want and don't be afraid of the spoiler, it doesn't bother me at all (in fact as a SO fucking anxious person I'm I like to know in advance what will happen). So, in your opinion, the author managed to build the relationship? When did it screw up? How was it? Your opinion about Mary R. About her Holmes. Tell me please!

Hahahaha about Watson well yes, imagine it, as I saw the saga is basically about Mary R. and sometimes Holmes comes out. My anger came mostly with the people who are fans and they posted those terrible reviews. I think the hate that Watson has for certain things still seems surprising to me. (And I say certain things because I love the character but many do not hate him for his judgmental attitude or for his misogyny or negative attitudes that he has, but almost all that "contempt" is for being the "foolish friend of Holmes, an unworthy company for the detective "and wtf ?, that gives material for another whole post for xD)

#AnswerIka #mary russell #sherlock holmes #dr watson #john watson #bad reviews #wtf a straight holmes

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whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years

Text

Long Nights - part 1

Neil x Reader

Chapter 1: Don’t kill my vibe

summary: all days blend into one, and as your friend brings back an unusual challenge, you are more than happy to accept it

warnings: 18+, explicit language, some violence, blood mention

author’s note: Woot woot, new series hype!

This setting has been brewing inside me for months now, and what started as an idea for a one-shot, turned out to be a fully fleshed out series (f!Reader again, for more gender neutral one check out StuckInReverse series!). And a good chance to introduce this brand new dynamic. Aaaand to play with some rogue tropes - because guess who's gonna teach Neil all he knows about locks and how to pick them? (canon what canon or at least let’s forget the implications for a moment and let's enjoy all the HAND CONTENT instead)

I’m really excited to share this story with you all!

The song for this chapter is Sigrid - Don’t Kill My Vibe

Anyway, enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

------------------

Tag list: @vaneilla @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway

----

You absent-mindedly swirled your coffee and ice cubes clinked against the tall glass as you watched a gutsy pigeon searching for crumbs under a table right next to yours. The green and purple feathers on its collar were shining in the morning sun, not as merciless as it was about to get in just a few hours, but still heating the crowded plaza to barely acceptable levels.

“I don’t know, man, all days blend into one, maybe it’s time to skip town again.”

Mahir leaned back on his chair, his glance sliding through the swarm of tourists pouring from the alley nearby.

“No new gigs?”

You mirrored his pose and shrugged.

“Some, but they just lack… pizzaz.”

“Pizzaz?”

“Yes,” - you sighed and gestured vaguely - “that certain oomph, that sparkle, excitement, when your heart starts beating faster at the sole thought--”

“You sure you’re not looking for...would say love but I know you too well, so... a good shag?” your companion chimed in with a sardonic smile plastered on his face.

You scoffed, amused by that insinuation.

“First of all - thank you,” you started, your eyes lighting up and your grin getting wider with every word. “Second - that thrill is better than a good shag, and after a job well done, you can ride that high much longer than even the best orgasm.”

“Forget I said anything--”

“And finally,” - you continued, ignoring his distressed groan - “you skip all the awkwardness of the morning after.”

Mahir raised his hands in defeat, and even though he looked as if he took a mental note to never tease you like that again, you were sure he knew exactly what you meant. After all, he was your favorite partner in crime, and even though he’d come clean (...or at least slightly cleaner) a few years ago, you still could count on him whenever you needed to pull off a spectacular and/or a straight-up batshit crazy stunt.

“How’s Paddsy?”

“Grand, as far as I know, but haven’t heard from him in years, why?” you asked, tilting your head.

Your friend looked at you with impish sparks in his eyes.

“I remember how you kept yourself amused during your teenage years.”

“The challenges?” You raised your brow and laughed at the memory. “Ha, petty theft is one way to fight a dullness of existence, all right.”

“I bet you’ve gotten sloppier with age.”

That taunt in his overly casual tone was clear as day. Were you really that bored, though?

“Please, I could do it right here and now without any prep.”

...yes.

He sent you a smug smile and started browsing the crowd for a possible target. “Okay, what about... that guy over there?”

You followed his gaze and your eyes laid on a pair of men, lost in a conversation, keeping to the peripheries of tourist groups as they walked through the square. One of them was gesturing with enthusiasm, a wide smile brightening his tanned face, the blond hair in complete disarray combined with a slightly unbuttoned white linen shirt with rolled-up sleeves and beige trousers completed a disheveled look. Couldn’t be older than thirty. He was accompanied by a more composed middle-aged Black man, a maroon polo shirt and grey suit pants complimented his fit and refined posture.

“The yellow mane or the polo shirt?” you asked and Mahir snorted in response.

“The polo one.”

You looked the stranger up and down as you assessed the case. Even from afar, you could see an outline of a wallet in the pocket of his trousers, and the short sleeves meant easy access to the watch.

You smacked your lips and pouted. “Too easy.”

“Okay, so both of them,” he said, watching with satisfaction as you perked up at the suggestion.

“Now we’re talking!” you laughed, clapping your hands. You pointed at Mahir’s camera sitting on the table, internally blessing his choice of hobbies. “Mind if I borrow this for a moment?”

“Sure, whatever.”

You bounced at your feet and grabbed the camera and its case, securing both straps on your shoulder. A sudden rush mixed with a familiar coldness as you got your head in the game.

“Be right back.”

Circling the crowd, you positioned yourself on the path of your targets, blending in with the crowd. Right then, nobody would tell you from other slaphappy sightseers, mesmerized by the architecture of the Old Town district. Stopping abruptly every few steps to take yet another photo. Too preoccupied to pay attention to your surroundings. Making it way too easy to bump into someone, you know? Or, if you were clumsy enough, two people one after another, in a little live-action pinball moment.

You raised the camera and stepped back right into the polo guy, yelping at the impact.

“Sorry!” you squealed, jumping out of his way. Straight into the blonde man. “Oh gee, I’m terribly sorry!”

“You all right?” he asked as he caught you, placing hands on your arms for a split-second hold, enough to prevent you from bouncing back and bumping into someone else.

You turned around and met the bright blue eyes studying you curiously.

“Yep,” you mumbled through sheepish laughter. “And you?”

He beamed, raking his unruly hair with his fingers.

“Yeah.”

Your gaze flitted back to his companion, who was looking at you two with polite interest, visibly eager to continue his stroll.

“Sorry again! Have a lovely day, gents!” you chirped, sending one more apologetic smile and squeezing between them to walk away in the opposite direction.

Ten steps later you twirled around. Aiming the camera at a statue nearby, you checked on the men with the corner of your eye. The blonde guy glanced over his shoulder for a moment, but he didn’t seem suspicious. Good.

You made your way back to the cafe and fell back on your chair.

“No sweat,” you said and smirked, handing the camera back to Mahir and placing the case on the table. You turned it around so he could see what was inside - two watches, some mileage card you pulled out of the polo guy’s wallet, and something you grabbed from the other one… an Oyster card for public transport in London? What a combo. And of course, you could have picked the entire wallets instead, but what would be the fun in that? You didn’t have to make their life that much harder, after all, you just wanted to prove a point.

Mahir peeked inside and smacked his tongue.

“Okay, you still got it.”

“Damn straight!” You reached for your abandoned coffee and emptied it in one swig. “But I’d better get going.”

“Wait, what about the loot?”

“Keep it,” - you shrugged, leaning in to place a small kiss on the bearded cheek - “and tip that nice waitress well, will ya?”

“Sure,” sighed Mahir and patted your hand on his shoulder. “Be careful out there, mate.”

“Always.”

You stepped out on the sunny square again. There was nothing particularly interesting on the agenda for the day, so you decided to take a longer and more scenic route to your apartment. You put on the headphones and with your usual playlist on shuffle, you maneuvered between groups of people on your way to one of the alleys. And just as you were about to cross the road, someone blocked your path. You glanced up and it took all your self-control to maintain a neutral expression, despite all the warning sirens blaring at the full volume inside your head. How even--

“Darling! Long time no see!” said the blonde man you’d just robbed gleefully and grinned, his arms spread wide as if you’d known each other for years. Without dropping a jovial face, he leaned in and gave you a chaste hug, using the opportunity to utter straight into your ear. “Don’t make a fuss and come with me.”

Bloody fantastic.

The stranger linked your arms together and started walking down the street, pulling you with him in a little too rushed version of a friendly stroll. It wasn’t your first rodeo, though.

“Where are you taking me?” you squealed, faking badly covered distress and scouting the area in search of his partner, but the polo guy was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, we need to have a little chat,” he said nonchalantly, securing a grip on you with another hand on your arm. “And the streets today are awfully loud, don’t you think?”

He dragged you into a back alley, losing the chummy demeanor with every step further away from the crowds. Lucky for you, the new setting worked in your favor. You’d been indulging him long enough, anyway.

Shifting your balance, you stomped hard on his foot, using the element of surprise to break free. Grabbing the blonde strands, you pulled his head down to meet your flying knee. A muffled groan escaped the stranger’s mouth and his curses followed you when you dashed to a small back street to your right. These few seconds of a head start were more than enough though, especially since you knew the area like the back of your hand. And that’s why you didn’t hesitate when you reached a chain-link fence. You jumped and bounced off the wall, pulling up on the edge and vaulting through the obstacle with ease, then gracefully landed on the other side and turned around just to see the man hitting the fence with frustration. He glared at you, wiping the blood from his face, and you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“See ya!” you giggled and blew him a kiss, disappearing into another alley.

You emerged on the main street at a reasonable distance from the place you’d left the stranger, weaving between people on the busy pavement, making sure nobody followed you. After a few blocks, you grew quite certain that you’d lost the unwanted tail. You smiled to yourself. The day turned out to be way more exciting than you could have expected. And it wasn’t even noon yet.

You noticed a dark grey SUV pulling over next to you, but by the time you realized what was going on, it was already too late. The next thing you knew, you got dragged into the backseat and trapped between the blonde man and the polo guy. Shit.

You glanced at the driver, searching for clues about what you’d gotten yourself into. The woman behind a wheel gave off a paramilitary vibe, but you couldn’t be sure. Anyway, there was no point in trying to escape - you needed to wait for a more suitable moment. You didn’t have too much room to squirm around, so you just fixed your gaze on the road ahead.

“Well, this is awkward,” you said, breaking the silence as the car started moving again.

“As my colleague said - we need to talk.”

You looked to your right at the polo man. “Abduction is such an underrated conversation starter.”

“So is theft,” he noted, a shade of smile tainting the corner of his mouth. “I really liked that watch.”

“I have no idea--”

“We’ve checked the square’s surveillance system,” he interrupted you, but his statement was so ridiculous you just had to laugh it off.

“Now you’re insulting me.”

He raised a brow as he studied you with satisfaction. “You’d rather admit that you’re guilty?”

“No,” - you bridled, slowly getting tired of the whole charade - “but there’s no way you got to the feed so fast, and with how crowded it was out there, there is no way you’d find anything incriminating in there.” You hesitated for a moment, then narrowed your eyes. “Speaking of-- how did you even find me?”

A sudden movement to your left made you switch focus to the quiet blonde man. Still pressing a bunch of bloodied tissues to his face, he showed you his phone - a red dot was blinking steadily in the middle of a screen.

...tracking? You opened your mouth to ask a follow-up question, but then it hit you and your eyes flared up. That hug.

“Sneaky. I like it.” You grinned and nodded at him. “How’s your nose?”

He lowered his hand with the tissues. It was bruised and swollen, but you couldn’t tell if you’d managed to break it or not. Still - ouch.

“Never better,” he said and grimaced slightly.

“You should put some ice on it.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“You don’t say.”

Biting your lip to stifle a giggle, you glanced back to your right. “So? What do you wanna talk about?”

The other man shook his head.

“Not in the car. We’re almost there.”

You looked out of the window to find out you were driving into an industrial zone, and not the nice part of it. You didn’t mind, though - abandoned and creepy factory buildings were your jam, and they made excellent locations if you ever needed a chance to escape.

After a few minutes, you reached your destination. You got out of the car parked near the entrance to an empty hall. The sunbeams were pouring inside through the broken windows near the ceiling, lighting up a small metal table and a pair of chairs.

“Kudos for prepping such a dramatic setting, gents,” you laughed, taking a seat at the table. The polo man sighed and sat in front of you, sliding a folder with documents your way. You peeked inside, only to confirm your suspicions. They got some serious dirt on you, all right.

“Let’s start again, properly this time. This is Neil,” - he said, pointing at his companion, who was standing nearby, leaning against a pillar - “and I’m The Protagonist.”

You gaped at him and slumped your shoulders. “The Protag--...you’re shitting me,” you huffed, but the man was staring at you indifferently. “Dude, your parents must hate you,” you snorted, not even trying to keep a straight face. “What’s wrong with-- ...I don’t know, David? Or some of the classics, like John?”

“That’s how everyone here addresses me, and I’d like you to do the same.”

“Do I have to?” you groaned as you looked at Neil. He simply nodded, so you had no other option but to roll with it. For now. “Ugh, fine,” you said, shrugging. “You guys are spies or something?”

“Or something,” said The Protagonist. “We use certain espionage techniques to our advantage.”

“Sure,” - you scoffed - “next thing you’re gonna tell me is that you need my help to save the world.”

Neil’s amused snort made you glance at him again. “Well, maybe indirectly.” Playful sparks lit up his eyes as he gave you a half-smile.

Are they for real? If that was an elaborate prank, this would be a good gotcha moment, but the men seemed serious enough.

You shifted on your seat, laughing nervously.

“Sorry to disappoint, but you’ve got the wrong gal.”

The Protagonist pointed at the folder in front of you.

“We need someone with your skills.”

...right. “Such as?”

“Lockpicking.”

You arched a brow. “Why? You need me to crack something for you?”

“No.” The Protagonist shook his head and took a deep breath. “We need you to teach our agents how to do it.”

“Hard pass,” you said, crossing your arms. “I’m not a tutor material.”

All of a sudden, a familiar voice rang behind you.

“Show her the lock.”

And then you connected all the dots.

“Mahir, you asshole!” you fumed, glaring at your friend as he joined you by the table. “Sloppier with age, I swear, you’re the main reason I have trust issues!”

“Main?” - he sent you a skeptical look - “What about--”

“Okay, you’re in top three, but mind you, today’s stunt alone got you five places up the table.”

“Oh no, I’m gonna cry myself to sleep tonight,” he mocked in his usual deadpan manner.

You huffed - “You better,” - mentally kicking yourself for falling for his ruse so easily. Maybe he was right. Maybe you’d lost your edge. That’s what you got for staying in one place for too long. You blinked rapidly, getting out of your head to focus on an item The Protagonist placed on the table. A small metal lock, pretty basic. No security pins, but you knew this model was made with sloppy tolerances that could give any beginner a headache.

“What’s so special about it?”

“Give it a try,” said The Protagonist and waved his hand in encouragement.

You reached to the pocket of your pants for a compact set of lockpicking tools you always had on you. Nothing fancy, rather a handy emergency set than anything serious - those were safely stored in your apartment, ready for the real work. Unlike the one you were about to do. Or so you thought.

You placed a tiny wrench at the bottom of a keyway and applied a minimal amount of tension, trying to set the first pin inside using a short hook. Trying and failing. The feedback from the tools was bizarre, like the regular laws of physics no longer applied to the lock’s mechanism.

“What in the fresh hell--” you uttered through gritted teeth, pulling out the tools to examine the peculiar lock.

Mahir smirked. “Enough pizzaz?”

“Shut up, I’m still mad at you,” you waved at him dismissively and focused back on The Protagonist, who was watching your attempts with polite interest. And a hint of a satisfied smile. “Where did you get that?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you,” he replied, leaning back on the chair. “At least for now, that is if you’d like to reconsider our proposal.”

You nibbled on your bottom lip, drumming the fingers on the table. Mahir, you bastard. Of course he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist an offer like this. Even if that meant a certain commitment, and that wasn’t something you were particularly fond of.

“Fine,” you sighed. “But I’m gonna teach only one person.”

“Deal.”

As you shook on it, Neil left his spot by the pillar.

“That will be me.”

You nodded in agreement and asked, “What about the lock?”

“Keep it,” said The Protagonist, standing up. As if he’d share the secrets straight away. “I want to hear your thoughts on it the next time we see each other.”

“And when is that gonna be?”

He just smiled enigmatically. “Soon. Mahir - a word?”

“Is he always like that?” you asked Neil as you got up, watching the others making their way towards the exit, but he just shrugged in return.

“He’s a busy man.”

You eyed your soon-to-be student curiously, and he responded in such, although suddenly losing some of the confidence he’d had before. Even with the bruised face, he radiated with this natural charm, a soft smile and the blonde strands falling into the bright blue eyes only adding to the overall appeal.

“Sorry about the nose.”

“Thanks,” - he smirked - “can’t blame you for that though, right?”

Grinning, you extended your hand in an informal truce offering.

“No hard feelings then?”

“Not at all,” he said as your palms clapped together and you smacked each other’s arms playfully.

With any leftover tension gone, all you had to do was to discuss the schedule and a few other crucial details. Neil took some notes and promised to get everything ready over the next few days. He even offered to drive you home, but you politely turned him down. A long walk, even slightly longer than previously anticipated, seemed more tempting.

Your fingers brushed against the weird lock in your pocket and you smiled to yourself.

For the first time in months, your heart started beating a little bit faster.

(next chapter->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfiction #robert pattinson #tenet #tenet fanfiction #the protagonist tenet #mahir tenet #neil tenet imagine #long nights

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