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spiderlandry · 9 months

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congrats!!!! i was wondering if you could do a childhood friends to lovers drabble with ethan landry?

thank u anon!! i Love childhood friends to lovers (i already have one for ethan in my wips, so i ended up making this one a little different, but my wip sounds like something you’d be into so stick around for when i release that soon!)

used a jack gif because i am running out of cute ethan ones 😧 this turned out way longer than expected sorry omfg

100 follower event

warnings/tags: mostly just fluff w ethan 😮‍💨 ghostface not mentioned, one use of y/n, mentions of dieting (by ethan b/c he’s going to the gym), insecurities

off the table — ethan landry

“Ethan, look at the camera!”

He stares at his phone, watching through the ‘movies’ you used to film at his house when you were younger. Your voice sounds squeaky, matching his at the time. The video is blurry, but he can see his own goofy pose through the pixels as you turn the camera to him, and then here comes his favourite part, when you turn the camcorder and set it on the coffee table and he can see you and him sitting on the floor of his family living room.

“Introduce yourself, come on!”

“Ethan?” A knock on his bedroom door forces him to shut off his device and hug it to his chest, leaning back against his headboard.

“Yeah?” He responds to the all-too familiar voice, you, on the other side of the wood, opening the door.

“Um—“ You squint your eyes at him, as if you’d heard the sounds coming from his phone. Shit, did you hear? “You have any plans tonight?” You don’t mention the way he’s visibly relieved when you ask.

“No, why?” He’s back at ease with you again, pushing back the thoughts of a future with you to the back of his mind.

“Dinner?”

“I want wings,” He confesses.

You chuckle at his admission, knowing he’d been dieting because he began regularly going to the gym with Chad. (Which, honestly, was a treat to your eyes—but he’d never know.)

“I’ll get wings.” You pull out your phone to order, then adding, “I won’t tell Chad.” Before you leave and close the door.

He runs his hands down his face. Why did he think becoming roommates with you was a good idea? Oh, right, because you promised each other when you were kids.

It’s not the fact that you’re roommates. It’s that you’re just roommates, at least at this moment. But you’re also each other’s best friend since childhood—a connection that neither of you plan to change.

He watches through the video folder he has, titled, ‘y/n and ethan’ consisting of the videos you two filmed with a shitty camcorder at his dad’s house.

It was a time capsule of sorts—the videos progressed and the two of you grew up—but as time passed, the entries became less frequent. The last time was before you both separated for the first two years of college, when you went to study abroad. But you came back, reminded him of the promises you both made; telling him ‘the offer is still on the table.’ and he ended up moving in with you as per the plans you made as children.

This year of living together has been like if nothing ever changed, like you never went anywhere else, never spent two years apart from him. Though, there are flashes of uncertainty. Cracks in your demeanor that leaves him wondering if he truly knows you still.

Each moment where you mention someone in your life he doesn't know, he feels a sting. And on top of that, he feels guilt. How can he stay in your life keeping this secret from you? It eats at him.

He's in love with you. There's no denying that. The problem lies in how long he can hold it in, out of fear of ruining what he has with you. But knowing you, you would probably reject him so nicely that he wouldn't notice. There is no chance you'd feel the same, he thinks.

You both eat wings on the couch, watching your favorite movie. Neither of you care about the close distance, shoulders touching and hands brushing against each other when the movie ends and you begin to cleanup.

In the kitchen disposing of trash, you lean against a counter while he gets busy tidying up the kitchen. He can feel your stare on him, burning.

"Are you just gonna stand there?" He laughs, but there's a waiver in his voice that is hard to miss.

"Were you watching the videos of us? You know. Earlier."

His heart pounds in his ears. "Yeah. Why?" He doesn't see a point in lying anymore.

You sigh, "I miss you too, you know."

His head snaps up to meet yours, a longing gaze in your eyes.

That's when he realizes that you've stepped closer, your warmth practically radiating off your figure. His mind blanks.

"I feel like I've been..." You pause to think, "I don't know. Distant?"

Between the two of you, you were always the more honest one. A trait he admires, a reason to look up to you. You never shy away from a conversation when it's needed.

Ethan's mind jumps to a worst case scenario. Multiple, actually. Why are you telling him this? You're about to break bad news to him, aren't you?

Reading the uncertainty in his eyes, you continue.

"Something's changed." You shrug, looking to him for an answer.

"No, why--why would you say that?"

"I'm sorry, E."

His brows furrow. Now he's even more confused.

"I feel like I don't know how to fucking act around you anymore."

Woah. Now where did that come from?

His shoulders slump at the mere though of you not wanting to be around him. Did he do something wrong? Are you uncomfortable?

You mumble something inaudible.

"What?" He whispers, almost breathless.

"IthinkI'minlovewithyou."

He's certain his heart stopped beating. He needs to get his ears checked, surely.

"Can--can you say that again?"

You stare at him through your lashes, a frown forming on your lips. He wants nothing more than to wipe it off you, but first he needs to make sure he heard you correctly.

"I'm in love with you." You stop looking at his eyes, unable to face him. "And I'm sorr--"

He engulfs you in a hug before you can finish.

"Don't ever be sorry," He tightens his hold, and you reciprocate. "I thought--I didn't think you'd ever feel the same."

He can physically feel you relaxing.

"You're an ass."

That gets a laugh out of him. "Why?"

"You made me say it again."

"You know what? I'll make you a deal."

"Yeah? Is it a good deal? Don't try to scam me."

He smiles, though you can't see it because your eyes are closed, too focused on the feeling of his arms around you. "I'll tell you how much I love you for as long as you want."

"Give me a timeframe."

"For the rest of our lives, hm? Deal?"

"Deal."

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream 6 x reader #ethan landry fluff #scream vi #scream x reader #scream

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iraprince · 1 year

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hi ira, you're a big inspo for me! especially as a fellow adhd artist.. i often struggle with "letting go" sketches / leaving them be, i always end up focusing on each as if it has to become a full piece. i personally feel this is bc of my adhd and was wondering if you struggled with something similar, or had any advice on sketching?

thank you so much! and yeah, okay, let's chew on this one and see what we can come up with.

so i actually usually have the opposite problem: I can generate a bunch of loose sketches really quickly, but i have a really hard time buckling down and putting the focus in to take any of them all the way to being full pieces. i think sketching and leaving those sketches as-is comes easily to me because i enjoy it (as in i physically enjoy the feeling of drawing in a loose, gestural style, AND i aesthetically enjoy how unfinished sketches look), and i'm extremely accustomed to it (most workdays i start up by doing ~45-90 mins of sketches, usually a few digital pages worth). these things combine so that the habit of churning out a bunch of little images and then immediately moving on is something that's really natural to me.

HOWEVER i am def not just advising "sit yourself down and sketch for an hour and a half every day" with no other context; i think "draw every day" as ironclad advice is usually pretty clumsy and isn't always applicable to how people work best, or always effective against what actually trips people up with art stuff. i think a lot of this is abt getting mindset right!!! drilling and repetition is good later for building speed and confidence but it's not as useful until u've figured out the underlying struggle imo.

so, some thoughts:

do u keep going on the sketch bc u get distracted by the idea of the final piece, and u just get sucked in to progressing toward that? for me, sometimes i do nail a sketch and im like "ooh, i want to do something more with that!" — but because these sketches happen during my warmup time and i need to keep moving, i don't do it right away. i usually just make a note right on the canvas, or i copy/paste the sketch into a separate file to come back to later. if u get the urge to keep going on a piece bc u want it to have more, but what u Actually want is to do a few more sketches, consider scooting the sketch over into a wip file/folder/etc for later (if ur working digitally; set it aside in a physical wip folder if you're working traditionally).

do u keep going on the sketch bc ur insecure about the fact that it isn't polished, or bc u feel like it "needs" more to look good? u may be affected by The Spectre of Posting. something i have wrestled with constantly and that i think many artists wrestle with is that, even if we aren't having these thoughts consciously, whenever ur drawing there is kind of this little voice in the back of ur head that's like. "is this gonna be good enough to post. if it turns out crappy i won't want to post it and then i will have wasted all this time. will this flop? if i post this will it make me look like i'm bad at drawing? what if this isn't as good as the last thing i posted and then it looks like im getting worse" and on and on and fucking on. this is all fucking nonsense, but also it's really hard to break out of. try, as hard as you possibly can, to start becoming okay w the idea that not everything is for posting, and that if something doesn't turn out great or u don't necessarily want it to like Artistically Represent You then nobody ever has to see it, and i think u might find that a lot of the tense little subconscious urges and hangups and anxieties you have about your work will start to unravel. any statement abt your art that starts with "i feel like i need to...." or "i feel like i should...." is probably somehow tangled up with the idea of other peoples' eyes on your work, and as long as you're letting a vibe like that breathe down your neck, you really can't draw freely.

do you keep going on the sketch bc you just don't like the sketch and you think if you keep picking at it it will eventually get better? well — okay, sometimes you're right! sometimes picking at something endlessly is how u eventually get something really nice and fleshed out and cool looking. but also we are mortal creatures with a limited amount of time on this earth and i am assuming from the fact that u asked for advice that u want to create More drawings. so the only real advice for this category of sketch hangup is: dude, fuck it. make a bunch of bad sketches. do it on purpose, if that helps loosen you up! designate "fucked up stupid sketch day" and make a bunch of the most dogshit drawings you can muster. remember when earlier i said part of why this is easy for me is bc i do so MUCH of it? sometimes it's about volume. if every time u start on a sketch, it ends up being the only thing u pick at for the next few days, of COURSE it's going to start feeling super precious and high stakes to you. you're not being irrational for getting attached to stuff u spend time fussing over. but if u want to be LESS fussy and LESS attached, probably the fastest way is to just start making yourself churn a bunch of shit out, because if you've made TWELVE little sketches today who actually cares if four of them are dogshit. make MORE of them, and it becomes way less serious. u can use time limits to push yourself along, if that helps — an exercise i really like is putting my music on shuffle and then doing a bunch of little drawings where i work on each one for ONLY the duration of one song each. when the song ends, i stop working on the sketch i'm on and move on to a new one. and sometimes they're totally dogshit, because the best songs in the world are all sub 2mins! or draw yourself a bunch of very small rectangles on a sheet of paper and fit a bunch of little drawings into those. anything to help Shove u past the idea that a drawing has to, like, LOOK LIKE anything or be cute or appealing or look good in any capacity will help break up the apprehension u get about wanting sketches to come out a certain way.

i have talked ur ear off as always but i hope that some of this is helpful!! or if i totally missed the mark and none of this connects w u re: why u find this stuff challenging, pls feel free to send me another ask clarifying what u get stuck on and i'll see if i can think of any potential fixes :)

#resources #tutorials #nnmmot really but. yknow. just chucking all my advice in the same tags for browsing purposes

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ddelline · 8 months

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time loop thursday

blurb | I did in fact miss wednesday wip posting deadline, but this works, and I did just write 6k of this in one sitting, even though I really did not have time to do that. this behemoth fic, istg

premise | since this isn't really a normal time loop fic, but also kind of time traveling all over the place!fic, ofc I'm visiting All Of The Trope-y Timelines. and here we are at hidden inventory/sudden death. bc I love writing shōko. honestly mainly bc of that. still no goyuu (lmao) but it is a quite lengthy bit of hi/sd!trio feat older!satoru

Suguru puffs an exasperated breath and crosses his arms over his chest. His nails are bitten down, not filed as they usually were; his left ring finger and pinky are taped. Must have happened at some point Satoru can’t recall from their (thankfully) brief bout with Fushiguro. “I can’t say either of that made it on to my list of concerns. This extra examination was unnecessary, as well. Why wouldn’t you notice it’s him? Satoru’s a horrible liar.” Suguru tips his chin in Satoru’s direction. He raises an eyebrow at him. His expression is relaxing in slow increments, even if it still retains an edge of caution. “You can tell from the CES. Like this.” Suguru reaches out towards Satoru. It’s cautious without for that matter being slow, clearly telegraphing, giving Satoru the chance to influence what happens next.

A horrible, rippling weight in Satoru’s chest seizes at that. He thinks it might be his whole heart. It’s such a painfully Suguru thing to do; is a thoughtful, mindless tic he’s had since they were kids, all of nine gangly years, spiteful and prideful and intensely aware of their prodigy: complete assholes, in fact. But it’d been underscored by sullen, insecure tenderness, like awkward adolescent friendship tends towards. He dispels Infinity with a twitch of his fingers. Three of Suguru’s fingers make contact, press lightly down in the crook of his elbow. He withdraws momentarily after. “It’s a lot more tempered, but it feels the same. There’s no change in the mass or texture of the signature.”

Shōko rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “Never mind a shikigami, your sense of curse echolocating seems to be just as good. Better. Why don’t they teach us this in med school?”

“Don’t call me a curse,” grouses Suguru. “And they do teach us this. In jujutsu school. You just happened to sleep through the majority part of the curse energy analysis curriculum.”

Shōko shrugs. “Cursed energy is just like, fwoosh, and crrrck. Like the crackle of fire, you know. Sometimes a little shhhwp, and yoosh.” Suguru rolls his eyes. “Besides, saying that just because it feels like Satoru, it has to be him, is reductionist. Your cursed energy signature isn’t necessarily fixed. Vessels’ CE have shown to adapt, even to a certain extent mix, with the host curse’s. From a scientific point of view, it’s highly unlikely that something like an innate technique capable of cloaking or imitating another’s CE, for example, can’t exist.”

Satoru whistles and grins. “Here’s someone who did all the suggested additional readings. At least in that class. I appreciate your being in my corner though, Suguru. Even if that was a solid, grade A-smack down.”

“Satoru,” says Suguru, in the same breath as Shōko says, “Gojō-san,” after which they both chorus more or less identical sentiments of “shut up, no one was talking to you.”

Spindly fingers fit themselves into the spaces between his ribs. They reach inwards, finding his lungs and heart and curl; settle securely around bloody, wildly pumping organ matter. They squeeze. Satoru’s fingers spasm marginally where they’re resting across the flat of his own thigh.

He failed them both before. And in so many more ways than he ever realized. More than he ever will, probably. No matter how long he lives, or how much he learns. Whatever he does, or doesn’t do here: he won’t fail them like that again.

Yaga rucks his sunglasses up to rest on his brow and pinches the bridge of his nose. An aggravated breath hisses out of him. Satoru can guess what comes next. “Goddamn!” swears his now-teacher, future-headmaster. When he looks at Satoru again, moments later, his expression is grim. “I can’t fault you for this one, Satoru. Maybe I ought to praise you. But goddamn.”

“Please don’t, sensei,” sighs Shōko, “One violation of fundamental world principles per day is enough.”

“I agree,” says Suguru. Satoru tsks.

Yaga gestures for them to zip it. “Enough. Cynicisms and smart quips aren’t going to get us closer to figuring out what to do about this,” he levels Satoru with a sharp stare again, “we’ve not got any time, either. Ijichi’s doing his best to keep the damned lid on for now, but a near-successful assassination of the Star Plasma Vessel carried out by a member of one of the big three—on warded school ground, no less; it’s a shitstorm the size of a hurricane brewing in a teacup. High council, the noble Three, plus a string of second tier branch families, jujutsu regulatory institutions—we’ve got an official inquiry pending from the desk of the PM; no one doesn’t want to get in on how we could’ve let this happen.”

Satoru desperately wants to note, out loud, something about Yaga’s uncharacteristically colourful language. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the gravity of the situation—no one is more keen than Satoru to figure out what the actual fuck is happening, or root out the apparent fail safe at the heart of the temporal knot he’s gotten himself stuck in, unpick it and put things right again. But frankly, if he’s not allowed to take a moment to breathe, and appreciate, Yaga Masamichi illustrating the monumental fuckfest of the protection and escort mission of Amanai Riko as a hurricane sized shitstorm wreaking havoc within the bounds of a tiny teacup—then what point is there to all the pain, suffering, and trauma they’ve needed to endure along the way (some of them twice over, now)?

“We didn’t let it happen, though,” says Satoru, who is sadly twenty nine and sensible. “Believe me, I’ve been privy to the alternative. It’s far shittier.”

“So you’ve alluded to,” says Yaga, “Cursory background is provided, but I don’t think that’s enough.”

Satoru doesn’t glance towards Suguru and Shōko, parked behind respective desks to his left. The crux of the matter, and the solution to the problem, won’t become apparent to them just because he provides a detailed account of this future’s, and his own past, eleven years. “People died. Curses banded merrily together to plan an apocalypse. Gojō Satoru, Strongest Sorcerer, failed. We failed, pretty spectacularly actually, in preventing jujutsu society, an idiotically archaic reactionist system which favoured genealogy over talent and control over reform, from rinse, recycle and repeat-doom cycling us straight off a cliff.” Satoru pauses, levelling Yaga with a flat stare, “If I had time stamps, I’d call Ijichi in to transcribe. But since what happened today didn’t happen the last time around—I’d guess we’re winging it from here. Sensei.”

Silence as thick as dewy, muggy fog settles over the classroom. Satoru slouches more exaggeratedly into the desk he’d taken to leaning against when they’d been summoned. Either Suguru or Shōko voices a small, shock-adjacent expel of breath. Yaga remains quiet, only emoting by way of one eyebrow twitching, and a muscle in his jaw spasming and fluttering with tension.

“Heartbreaking: the worst person you know just delivered a rousing speech on progressive political reform,” says Shōko faintly.

Suguru heaves a belly deep sigh. “Satoru,” he chides, “All of that, and you’re still so disrespectful?”

“All of you. Shut up,” booms Yaga. He unfolds his hands, displacing his weight, and slowly gets to his feet. Satoru vaguely entertains the hilarious irony in surviving Fushiguro Toji stabbing the Inverted Spear of Heaven through his frontal lobe, only to end up being strangled to death by his teacher for mouthing off during a debriefing. A lunging attack isn’t forthcoming, however. He stands, keeps regarding Satoru with dark eyes and a tense jaw. Eventually, he just sighs. Deflates. “You’re still an arrogant shit, Satoru, and for that you don’t deserve to be rewarded. But you’re right. Damned if you aren’t right.” His teacher pauses, then nods at him, hard and jerky. “You grew up. A lot of people probably benefited from that. Let’s see if we can as well.”

#fandom: jujutsu kaisen #work: fic #jjk #fic: cv/sm #wip wednesday #goyuu #at it again tagging goyuu when the goyuu is still pending #ddelline's blatant in-tag lies #when will this fic end #no one knows #certainly not me

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thestalwartheart · 1 year

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3 and/or 10 for the meta ask, please, if either of those appeal to you? 💜

Hi! Thanks for the writer ask. These were great questions. 💜

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Ahhh! Thank you for asking this!!

I've always wanted to write a scene where Q - in a new, romantic, thrilling relationship with James - has to hear the news that Madeleine is pregnant with James' child. I want all the insecurity, the anger, the angst, the desperation, the fear of losing this thing he's wanted for so long because of bad timing and the invasive, persistent belief that Bond might want something more than a quiet life with his Quartermaster after all.

I want the catharsis of writing that scene, but I don't think it would stand well on its own, and I cannot be arsed writing a 10k fic for it at the moment.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Chaos, Ani. Sheer chaos.

If I have an idea, I write until the urge is exhausted or I'm interrupted by something pressing. Very rarely, I have a full fic at the end of that process. More often it sits and waits for attention while I finish something else.

I never write linearly. I never stick to writing a single story at once. I write anywhere, on anything. In my notes app, on post-its, my hand (gotta be careful with that one), in the margins of my study notes for design class. My WIPs are full of placeholders that say things like [Q's thoughts], [Bond saying something he actually might say in canon], and - my favourite - [more fucking].

Somehow I've written 50+ fics this way, so it seems to be working.

#ask box

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deansmom · 3 months

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1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

228 😅

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

665,600 - I like coda’s and shorter fics, clearly.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, mainly Marvel. Historically supernatural, with some other things sprinkled in as inspiration strikes.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Regarding Us deancas

The things I love deancas

Be careful, it’s my heart sambucky

Dean and Castiel’s excellent cockles love story

I found my bluebird

5. Do you respond to comments?

Sometimes! I read them all though, and deeply appreciate them 🖤🥺 just responding with a thank you feels almost disingenuous to me 99% of the time, so I’d rather just save my responses for when I really have something to say.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Chapter 4 of stolen moments specifically, or its sister in remember me

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Erosion or I want my life to be with you, probably. Or actually, probably a map of who you are

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Once. I matched their energy and they deleted the comment 😇😌 but I usually just occasionally get medium out of pocket comments about Sam being insecure in his & Bucky’s relationship, as if he isn’t a whole grown man 😩

9. Do you write smut?

Hilariously, I used to before I became a lot more comfortable with being asexual. Now when I try, I just hate it. Like, it’s fine? But I hate reading it, so I don’t usually publish it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you have written?

I… may or may not have at one point. You can be an internet sleuth and try to find it lol

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Christ, no. I would never do that to someone 😭 I cannot just sit down and decide to write, and it’s something that takes a lot of mental effort to do for me so I go months without writing.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

It’s a tie between deancas & stevebucky. I’m sorry, they just get me.

15. What is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Are you ready to be strong? I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again: anybody is welcome to finish that one because I never will lol

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything else 😂

18. Thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

I try to do it sparingly, or I just write it but don’t translate it 😅

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Doctor who, I think?

20. Favorite fic you have written?

I’m probably the most proud of a map of who you are because it’s the first and only long fic I’ve ever finished.

be careful, it’s my heart

This monster of a series tbh. I’ve had so much fun playing with those characters the last couple years 🖤🥺

#mackenzie attempts fics #personal

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secretlywritingstories · 8 months

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Excerpt from chapter 1 of my original novel, working title WINGS (1.3k)

Anna Mars is from a long line of experienced supernatural hunters, and one day she meets Seren, a kind of winged creature that her family thought they had brought to extinction. An unlikely truce forms between them, and soon they find themselves caring about each other more than they should.

A/N: I worked on this novel in 2017-2019 and I almost finished the first book of a planned trilogy. It’s been a long time since I’ve touched it, but I thought perhaps sharing a couple of excerpts for my Posting Everyday In August (PEDIA) challenge might bring back my spark to work on my +170k wip, and not always go to my fanfics first. I adore these characters and their world so much. Enjoy!

𓆃𓆃

When she had been younger, she had always been chastised for having a face like an open book. Every single emotion had always been so visible in her expression. She had trained herself out of the habit, and she was now fairly good at holding onto her poker face in any given situation.

But it had slipped right off since the angel had arrived.

She felt shook to her core and she felt like she couldn’t pull up her usual defences at all.

“What are you going to do?” Anna asked, and she was proud that her voice didn’t shake too much.

Now it was the angel’s turn to frown. She had hunched down next to the wolf, and she ran her hand down its back. Her golden wings weren’t been concealed or camouflaged now.

She was keeping them on display, and it made the whole thing even more unnerving.

Partly because they were beautiful to look at, as much as Anna hated to admit it, and partly because it reminded Anna just what someone like this creature was capable of.

“Do?” she asked. “I’m not… You’re the one who came here. With your weapons.”

The last bit said with a clear distaste, and a distrustful glance at Anna’s net shooter and hunting knife that had been tossed aside in their struggle. At the reminder, Anna became conscious of the gun in her waist holster.

She could get a shot off. She might be able to bring down the angel but even if she managed to shoot, she had no doubt that the wolf would attack and rip out her throat. It wasn’t an advisable plan of action.

Anna couldn’t see how she would get out of this one okay. She was playing it by ear and just trying to look for an opening to either attack or retreat.

The silence lingered. The angel looked conflicted if the expression on her face was anything to go by. If Anna was an open book, then this creature was inviting you in to see the entire library all at once.

Anna saw flickers of doubt, worry, fear, anger and insecurity flash and interchange.

“You’re a hunter, right?”

Anna had never spoken to mythical creatures before. Usually, at most they were snarling curses in the heat of battle. All creatures should be killed on sight. You should never attempt to go for capture. It would just run the risk of the creature getting away and seeking revenge or causing mayhem.

“Yes.”

Anna didn’t see any reason to lie. The tone of voice suggested that the angel was asking a question that she already knew the answer to. However, at Anna’s reply the creature’s wings twitched and moved upwards slightly.

Anna’s eyes followed the movement curiously.

Then the wings disappeared before her very eyes. Again.

“Would you have killed the unicorn and her baby?” the angel asked, shifting her weight from one foot to another. She looked uncomfortable and anxious about this whole thing.

She should lie. Anna knew that. She should just make up some excuse, no matter how unlikely it would sound.

In fact, she had hesitated. She hadn’t shot right away like she had been taught to do. Hesitating in this business got you killed. Anna was hesitating with her answer too, and it should have been her second mistake but for some reason it didn’t seem to be.

The winged creature waited for an answer patiently with an attempt at a neutral expression. Even the wolf was sitting down obediently, and it didn’t growl unless Anna tried to move.

It seemed very unlikely but maybe she had a chance of walking away from this. This angel clearly wasn’t all right in the head, if she thought that talking to a hunter would be good practice. Anna wondered if she was the only one left of her kind, and if that might be why she was acting so weird and going up to other magical creatures and even humans.

“I… I was… Yes. No, I don’t know. I should have. They’re dangerous,” Anna spit out, in one rapid stream of words once she caught her momentum.

The angel looked at her with something almost like pity in her expression.

“What do you say, Lune?” she asked the wolf, who tilted back its head and let out soft whines in its throat.

Could they communicate like that?

“He doesn’t like you.”

It was blunt and honest and it caught Anna by surprise and she didn’t quite manage to catch the first few sputters of her laugh.

“The feeling is mutual,” Anna replied and eyed the wolf, as she forced down the surprise laugh.

“Why do you hunt us?” the angel asked, and curiosity was painted clear on her face. She sounded almost childlike in how she asked, so honestly and openly. She was soaking up every reluctant word out of Anna’s mouth.

Anna was doing the same for most parts. She was filing away every bit of information. It would come in handy later, if she got to go back to her family and tell them about this odd angel that she encountered. However, she did find herself momentarily distracted by intensity in the angel’s blue eyes.

“To keep people safe,” Anna recited.

She had asked herself that question before. She’d asked her father and she had asked her uncle. When they said it, it had sounded so simple. When she had been antagonising over it on her own, she felt like the lines were a bit more blurred. So, it came easier to parrot their practiced answers.

“From us?” the angel asked and the beginning of a smile tilted up the corner of her lips a little. She sounded genuinely amused.

“Werewolves maul innocents. Vampires kill their meals. Spirits torment the living. Shapeshifters play tricks and ruin lives. Unicorns impale anyone on their territory,” Anna spit out easily. “And you winged folk are the worst of the lot.”

The angel tilted her head to the side and the smile slipped off before it could properly take hold. Now she just looked sad, as she hummed under her breath.

It looked like she wanted to say something. Like she had something on the tip of the tongue but either she couldn’t bring herself to voice it, or she couldn’t find the words to articulate what she wanted to say.

“Why are you out here alone? If you think we’re so dangerous, why wouldn’t you bring back-up?”

Anna hated that the angel was able to voice the inner monologue that had been going on in Anna’s head since she realised what she had accidentally stumbled onto. She shouldn’t have been here alone. She had gone against protocol, and now it might end up getting her killed.

Technically, she should already be dead considering the circumstances but her heart was beating, a bit too fast perhaps, but it was steady and strong.

She hadn’t been sliced open by the wolf’s claws and she hadn’t been picked up by the angel and dropped to her death like…

Anna shook her head before the old grief came back up. It wouldn’t help her at the moment. It would only make things worse.

“I don’t play well with others,” Anna shot back, opting to keep it light and funny despite the grave circumstances.

“Is that so?” the angel asked with a perfectly raised eyebrow. “So, all hunters aren’t like you?”

“How many have you met?”

The angel took a step forward, away from the wolf at her side. Anna was still sitting on the ground, staring up at the angel and it made her feel small and vulnerable. Clearly that must be the angel’s tactic, to make her feel inferior and…

“You’re deflecting. Stand up please.”

“What?” Anna barked.

“Unless you’d prefer to stay on the ground.”

#my stories #pedia #original novel #fantasy

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catty-words · 1 year

Note

"i think the disconnect comes from the way fandom uses words like 'racist' to build cases about how it's Objectively Wrong for anyone to like a certain character" YES omg people say it like its an essentialist part of a character, like they did something shitty?? well that means they are a literal devil spawn and if you like them you are TRASH!!! but like is actually mostly an action (like you said, a BEHAVIOR)???? that people CAN get better and do better??

"giving the time of day to people who aren't engaging sincerely with the text" this is a great definition of what so many people do, i will definitely snuggle with my kitty in my echo-chamber in guilty-free now, thanks

"forced me to sit with that disappointment for over a year." yeah, i supposed i would feel similarly had i watched one season at the time too. personally because besides devi lack of agency, ben is just so off. paxton was the highlight, besides nirmala and aneesa, that made the season worth it, but like... i feel like season 2 ben is just there to suffer from beginning to end, if at least he was less of a victim of devi's cheating and more of a cunt about it i wouldnt feel so sad, but like you said, its like he had no defects that season and i'm like 😭😭 wheres my little shit from season 1? i dont know if i would survive sitting with season 2 ben for a year tbh you are so strong and resilient babe

"you may already know that i'm writing a long-form follow-up with 'bitty spark' acting as the prologue since it sounds like you picked through my blog a bit" i actually didnt cuz i tend to avoid wip fics like the plague unless i'm close friends with the author cuz then if they abandon the work i can just ask where they planned to go with and satiate my curiosity aksjwkajai but now that i know its the continuation of my fave fic of yours i went through the whole tag and i'm like. DESPERATELY NEEDING IT. like you've been working on it for ages frr you poor thing :(( but simultaneously i'm like IF SHE DOESNT POST LIKE ASAP IM FLYING OUT THERE AND PULLING HER FEET AT NIGHT 😡😡

"thank you for fueling my vanity and for stopping by my askbox in the first place!" no thank you for answering my question it was eating me alive, i just wanted to contextualize and make sure you knew i wasnt like a ben apologist who see him as someone who cant do no wrong but when you had questions of your own i just had to answer them pakspksosk and i love to fuel people's vanity!!! you deserve to be vain, you are giving great stories for nothing besides the shits and giggles!!! i have a hard time interacting in tumblr bc of some dumb insecurities but i just really had to answer you, i thought you would just politely and objectively answer my question but instead you gave me an opportunity to sing you praises without all my tumblr-ity baggage so... thank YOU.

this is a great definition of what so many people do, i will definitely snuggle with my kitty in my echo-chamber in guilty-free now, thanks - perfect. give your kitty a kiss on their perfect little head for me.

yeah, i supposed i would feel similarly had i watched one season at the time too. - mm-hmm, and most people i'm friends with in the fandom have similarly been in it since the beginning, hence my curiosity about your own experience. i'll never know what it's like to take in the series as a whole, it very much is divided up into Eras for me, and it excited/excites me greatly to hear someone else's perspective on the shifting tone.

i feel like season 2 ben is just there to suffer from beginning to end, if at least he was less of a victim of devi's cheating and more of a cunt about it i wouldnt feel so sad, but like you said, its like he had no defects that season and i'm like 😭😭 wheres my little shit from season 1? - dkjsbg exactly!!! 'where's my little shit from season 1', SUCH an important question to be asking!!!

i don't know if you read 'start, acceleration' (my fic where ben teaches devi how to drive), but i was in a scramble to finish it before season 2 dropped and, in retrospect, it's so important that i did (literally posted it the night before) because i can't imagine trying to complete it with s2 ben's characterization in my head. i would have been Distraught.

i dont know if i would survive sitting with season 2 ben for a year tbh you are so strong and resilient babe - and like, thank you. i needed this. 😇

but now that i know its the continuation of my fave fic of yours i went through the whole tag and i'm like. DESPERATELY NEEDING IT. like you've been working on it for ages frr you poor thing :(( but simultaneously i'm like IF SHE DOESNT POST LIKE ASAP IM FLYING OUT THERE AND PULLING HER FEET AT NIGHT 😡😡 - motivation!!! this + plus us knowing the season 3 release date - i'm determined to be posting it by then. like, truly no one is more excited to be sharing this fic than me i've worked so hard on it and it is pretty epic tbh......

no thank you for answering my question it was eating me alive, i just wanted to contextualize and make sure you knew i wasnt like a ben apologist who see him as someone who cant do no wrong - definitely no worries there. clearly you have taste because you miss cunt ben when he's gone!! plus, i obviously love discussing this show, so. your ask was a gift.

you deserve to be vain, you are giving great stories for nothing besides the shits and giggles!!! - 😳🥰🥺 thank you

#anon #replies #never have i ever

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bi-bats · 1 year

Note

💫 🦋 and 💌 for the fic writer asks?

hey bestie!!!!! I thought I'd see you in here 😂 thank you for reblogging the same post so I could ask you a few too!!! 💖 okay here we go:

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

I have a very specific favorite comment format and it's so fucking needy of me so no pressure to anyone reading to comment like this!!! but my favorite kind of comment is 1000000% when it's formatted like this:

["Snippet of something I wrote"] the commenter's reaction to that specific bit

Sincerely, I've said it before and I'll say it again: in the least creepy way possible, I would watch everyone react to every line of my fic if I could. Sometimes I just write a line I'm really proud of and I want it to be the line that makes someone laugh or shout or tear up and I love when people tell me what parts made them feel things!!! Also sometimes people point out lines that I didn't think twice about, ones that just came naturally, but they still make people lose it and I love that just as much!!

a close second favorite kind of comment is just when people leave me a really, really long comment about the things they loved in the chapter. Seriously, every time I get a comment that's an essay it makes me want to never stop writing 😂 Basically, much like my Jason, I'm a sucker for praise.

🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

Oh noooooooo I have to be vulnerable??? Fuck. Okay, fine.

I'm usually the most insecure about the way the tone of the scenes flow together. I'm a bit of a freak about the plotline? And when I say 'a bit of a freak', I mean I have a full-size corkboard with all of the plotpoints of Know Yourself on it. Like I'm Charlie in that one gif from It's Always Sunny with the insane red string conspiracy theory board. Below is the Evidence in case you thought I was joking (I blurred out everything that was a spoiler, don't worry. Or sorry):

...Yeah. It's a lot. Sometimes I just really struggle with feeling like the moods/tone flows from scene to scene. If they're mad at each other, I need it not to feel like they're forgiving each other too easily. If they have a huge argument, they can't just go back to exactly how it was before (looking at you, chapter 7 of Know Yourself, which is giving me an absurd amount of trouble). Thus, the corkboard. It lets me quickly look at everything I've already written (without reading all *squints* 50k words I've posted, jesus fucking christ) and figure out if everything I'm working on makes sense with what came before that.

And yeah, it is a lot of work and dedication for the silly little fanfics I write, but it's sort of like a puzzle to me? It's satisfying to untie all the tangled ideas I have and make them into something pretty.

That said, TimKon never gives me as much trouble as JayTim. I should really post some of my TimKon stuff lol

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

Oh my god, this was cruel. You may not have known this was cruel, but this was cruel. Because the last time you sent me an ask, I knew I had a ton of ideas and I teased like two of them, but since then, the JayTimWeek prompts went up. And I promised myself I wasn't going to write something for every day, but then I blinked and I had ideas for every single day.

So, what to do? Do I post a snippet from one of my JayTim week WIPs? Do I post a minor spoiler for Know Yourself that you asked about in one of your comments? Do I drop all 6k words of chapter 1 of a long TimKon fic that's been sitting in my drafts for months? Do I tease an idea that I'm submitting for a zine? Do these questions count as an answer to the prompt, because I can't decide which I'm the most excited about?

No, I'm not that mean 😂 Here are two of the lines I'm most proud of from the next chapter of Know Yourself, which are in the same scene but not next to each other and don't spoil anything:

Jason was the one who had overreacted in the first place, filing Tim’s teeth to a sharp point in the hopes that he’d bite.

But then he fucked it all up. He’d done what he did best: tried to freeze over his white-hot anger, and still managed to be surprised when the ice cracked and steam shot out.

Thanks for the ask!!! I love doing these so thank you for making me answer and giving me an excuse to rest from writing (although @lovetimdrake is going to send me a meme in like 3 hours bullying me (rightfully) about how I'm supposed to be betaing their fic lol)

#📷 jpeg #<- you get a tag bestie #batsasks #bibatrambles #lol I have to be up for work in 5 hours and I'm currently running on 3 hours of sleep #I should stop acting like Tim Drake is a role model for a good sleep schedule #probably #<- spoken by someone who knows they won't start sleeping better #I was like this before I even met him tbh #okay sleepytime goodnight #thanks for the ask!!!!

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huge-enthusiast · 3 years

Text

Miraculous fic recomendations!!

This is just an excuse to show all my bookmarks? Yes. Yes, it is. I'm pretty sure most of this fics are really popular, but try see if you find something you didn't knew about!

All of the fics will be rated Teen and up audiences or lower. Also if I don't put the author's tumblr is because they didn't put it in the fic or/and I couldn't find it.

Pairing: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

knowing you by emsylcatac (they are not really the author of the fic but that's the account that says in the fic, the actual author doesn't have an account).

After dropping their transformations months ago, Marinette and Adrien see each other for the first time after being apart. They've both left too much unsaid and have to work to pick up the pieces of their confused hearts.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal but mostly ladynoir, light angst with happy ending.

the last day on earth by Reiaji

The first time Marinette sees Chat Blanc, she's fourteen years old. The second time, fifteen—the third time, seventeen.

The closer she grows to Adrien, the harder it is to save him.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, kinda heavy angst, hopeful ending.

tell me something i don't know by carpisuns (@carpisuns here on tumblr)

Do you think it still means something? To love someone, even if the universe said you had to?

The odds of having a soulmate are about negative one billion (or something like that). But somehow, like they always have, Marinette and Chat Noir find themselves together. They’re ready to finally tell each other everything, but it turns out that even soulmates have to keep secrets, and while their bond draws them together, duty forces them apart.

Chapters: currently 17/28 (WIPs can be exhausting but this one is 100% worth the wait!)

Mostly marichat but almost all of the lovesquare sides make an appearance, soulmates au, mostly fluff but it can get angsty if it wants to.

One Thing After Another by SKayLanphear

Marinette notices that, sometimes, Adrien acts a little out of the ordinary--like the time he stood in a cardboard box for no reason, or when he actually hissed at Nino. It's only when she starts to notice the similarities between Adrien and a certain feline that she begins to get suspicious.

Basically, Adrien acts like a cat when he probably shouldn't.

Chapters: 15/15

Mostly adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, miraculous side effects (by both sides wich is really cool!), it's fluff with a lil tiny angst for drama.

This would take some getting used to by Codango (@codango here on tumblr!)

Adrien peeked out from behind the chimney even as the magic of his own Chat Noir mask fell away.

She was still visible, her dark hair bobbing under the street lamps a couple blocks away.

“Marinette.”

Adrien blew out a confused breath. His fiery Ladybug… was the quiet little mouse who sat behind him in class?

“What. The.”

This… would take some getting used to.

Chapters: 8/8

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Adrien's part, awkward flirting, just fluff, nothing to worry about.

comfort food also by Reiaji!

In Marinette's house, cooking is a language of love, and Marinette loves Adrien more than most.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette with a little of ladynoir, super super fluff, a lot of insight into Marinette's chinese heritage.

The right side of his face by walkingonthestars (@hamsternamedmarinette here on tumblr!)

Marinette and Adrien are able to remain in their new seats in the back of the room at the end of Chameleon.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette, fluff with light angst.

it's a long way forward so trust in me by aloneintherain (@captainkirkk here on tumblr!)

“You’re not the only strong one around here, Chat,” Marinette said. She looked a little winded, but she wasn’t struggling to hold him up.

This close up, he could see the freckles on the bridge of her nose. He could see how that smug smile lit up her eyes. He could feel the strain of her arms—and wow, okay, he really wasn’t the only person around here with muscles.

Six times Marinette carried Adrien (plus one time he carried her).

Chapters: 1/1

All the sides of the lovesquare! Fluff with LOTS of mutual pining.

a fight that you were born to lose also by aloneintherain

When the prosecution starts throwing around the word victim in reference to Adrien, he has to stuff his hands under his thighs to keep himself from bolting out of the courtroom.

Adrien had felt unsafe during those last few weeks, but, until he had woken up and seen Father silhouetted in his bedroom doorway, that had only been paranoia. Father was controlling and cold, but he wasn’t hateful. Adrien was isolated. He was often hungry. And some weeks ago, when he had snuck out to visit Nino, sitting thigh-to-thigh on his bed while Adrien cried in that silent, crumbling way of his, he hadn’t argued when Nino put a hand on his shoulder and said, tentatively, That’s abuse.

But Adrien remembers being small and Father touching his hair after he’d aced another test; Father holding his scribbled drawings like they were something precious, and framing them around his office; Father, dressed as Hawkmoth, his eyes wild behind the mask, lashing his sword against Adrien’s baton; Father, collapsed against Mum, crying into her ashy hair.

Adrien finds out Gabriel is Hawkmoth, and Gabriel gets to bring his long-waited plan into action.

Chapters: 1/1

This one doesn't really focus in the ship that much as is an Adrien character study and an exploration of his relationship with his father, but they're still there so I put them here. Really heavy angst (this is one of this fics that haunt me in the middle of the night) with a happy ending. ❗TW: parental abuse, eating disorders❗

Supercut by LNC

Marinette loves her friends and Adrien can't deal.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, again light angst, an exploration of Adrien's insecurities, Marinette Dupain-Cheng deserves the world, happy ending.

Madame Snare by jettiebettie

“Sounds like a lot of work for nothing. She should take this as a sign to have a relaxing weekend with no responsibilities.”

“It's a lot of work she put her whole heart into. It wouldn't be right for it to go to waste,” Adrien whispers to him. The look on Marinette's face is enough to cause Adrien's own heart to ache. If anyone deserves the satisfaction and pride from a job well done, it's her.

“Too bad there isn't anyone else who can walk in those death traps,” Plagg says. Adrien hums in thought, tapping his chin.

“I could.”

Chapters: 1/1

Marichat, episode-based, Chat Noir in a dress!!!, light angst but it's mostly just idiots being idiots and a lot of fun.

in the same sun by peachcitt (@peachcitt here on tumblr!)

"It’s hard to believe that I saw you last at the peak of summer, when the sun was close and warm - and so were you. It should go without saying that I miss you. I miss you something terrible."

"It’s been seven months to the day since I’ve seen you. I wish you were here more than anything else."

Two letters, signed with initials instead of names, found in Paris, France.

Chapters: 1/1

Ladynoir, just angst, that's it, written like letters. No ending, just pain.

an uncurtain discovery by Missnoodles (@ladyofthenoodle here on tumblr!)

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Chapters: 1/1

Ladrien, it says it's crack, and don't get me wrong, is super funny, but I also found it sad as fuck?

An Open Secret by Kasienda

Adrien whirled around toward Marinette. She smiled at him.

He couldn’t smile back. He stared at her like the dumb blond model that he was often accused of being.

Something shifted in her expression. And her warm open Marinette smile transformed into Ladybug’s grin. He was looking at Ladybug right now.

He knew Ladybug’s name!

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

And he couldn’t say anything! Not to Marinette! Not even to Plagg, who had confided two weeks prior that Master Fu was growing increasingly paranoid since the location of his home and hideout had been compromised. Their master had apparently decided that Chat Noir and Ladybug would have to give up their miraculouses if they ever discovered each other’s identities.

It wasn’t fair!

...

A fic where they both know, but can't openly talk about it.

Chapters: 4/4

Post-reveal... but is it? Mostly adrienette and ladynoir, fluff with light angst and them being absolute idiots at hiding their secret identity.

golden (like daylight) by okayanna (@anna-scribbles here on tumblr!)

Friendship, Adrien decided, shaking off the mental image of Marinette’s hurricane eyes and hesitant mouth, parted in a small, careful “o.” He had a very strong friendship with Marinette. That was all.

Adrien thinks a lot about words, love, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chapters: 1 + epilogue

Adrienette but has lots of ladynoir, another Adrien character study because I hate myself, it tries to not be angst but the writing will punch you in the guts and make you cry, it's so good.

Strangers in the Bright Lights by poodles (@ladybeug here on tumblr!)

Adrien is about two drinks in when he sees a girl at the end of the bar wearing black cat ears. It's kind of weird, so he watches her, and although it's crowded he can see her face when she turns around. She’s wearing a Chat Noir mask. He takes a quick look around- nobody else is wearing a mask. Just her.

Adrien finishes his gin martini and heads over to her. He could use some company tonight anyways, he hasn’t told anyone he’s back in Paris and Nathalie won’t arrive in town for another month. And it’s been a rough day, okay? A rough move! He’s not sure he wants to be back yet, and he spent most of the day in the Agreste mansion sorting through some photographs of his father he found in the study. Maybe he wants a drink and some stranger to tell him he’s pretty! That’s not a crime, is it?

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette but it's also ladrien??? I think??? It's super super angsty but they're both drunk the entirety of the fic so it's also really funny.

Pick-Up and Chase by also SKayLanphear

After she accidentally trips into Adrien and apologizes about "falling for him," Marinette learns that he's no match for cheesy pick-up lines--whether they were unintended or not. And while she finds it flattering that he turns into a flustered mess with only a few words, Marinette comes to regret making him uncomfortable. That is, until she learns he's Chat Noir. At which point the phrase "just deserts" becomes a permanent fixture in her everyday plans.

A story in which Adrien is flustered, Marinette is smooth as glass at dropping lines, and Chat Noir gets the romance he was always asking for--even if he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Chapters: 10/10

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, it doesn't say it in the tags but I'm pretty sure the characters are much older than they actually are in the show, so much fluff and so much flirting.

Pairing: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Nino Has Done Nothing To Deserve This by GuardianKarenTerrier (@guardiankarenterrier here in tumblr)

It's nothing, really- just an innocent comment, a joke. But when they hear it, Nino and Alya come to a realisation.

There were, in retrospect, dozens upon dozens of hints. Now that they're suddenly aware of all their friend's flimsy excuses and rushed explanations, they're not only sure how they've missed it, they're not sure how anyone else has either. They realise that it had to be magic protecting their friends- and that same magic has ceased to work on the two of them.

Well, this means they'll just have to start watching over their friends themselves.

Chapters: 7/7

This is more a found family fic than anything else, Alya and Nino are the mom friend, has light angst but it's mostly identity shenanigans in the most bizarre way. ❗TW: eating disorders❗

christmas lights by demistories

Nino checks up and down the street, checking to make sure there’s no raging akuma headed his way before he crosses quickly and ducks inside the small café. He closes the door quickly before the icy air can blow inside and tugs his beanie down over his ears. He spots Alya sitting alone in the corner.

Chapters: 1/1

Just fluff!! Really short but really sweet.

hold on, i still want you also by Missnoodles!

Written for the @thedjwifizine ! Wich I also recommend if you wanna binge a lot of djwifi fics while also looking at amazing art!!!

Five times Alya ran into her ex, and the one time he stopped being her ex.

Chapters: 1/1

Light angst with a happy ending! I don't really like the ex-lovers to lovers trope but this one is the only exception.

I will continue to expand the list in the future! But by now I hope I was helpful in the search of new fics!

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kshira · 3 years

Text

—kink comfort

w// satori tendou & tooru oikawa

i’ve decided to write a comforting wip about the acceptance of kinks with two of the best boys <3

t//w: 18+, smutty, f!reader, comfort w/ heavy smut undertones & cursing

erotic asphyxiation (ea)— a type of sexual activity involving intentionally cutting off the air supply to you or ones partner with choking, suffocating, and other acts.

｡｡｡

tendou’s crimson eyes meet yours as his long fingers take a tighter hold around your throat, his body boils over at the helpless gust of air flowing from your pretty lips.

he loves the feeling of taking control of your oxygen levels, knowing the tighter the grip the more you gasp and moan for more but while he pushes your head deeper in the bed his eyes drift past your facade and into the eyes of the person that deemed him more than any scary monster.

your eyes on the other hand roll back in your head, letting the feel of his fingers laced like a necklace around you fuel you and make you gush more around his thick cock embedded in you.

“satori choke me harder please” you whine waking him up from his thoughts, tendou gazes down to you watching tears roll on your cheeks and the saliva dried on your face becoming wet once more.

“i’m so disgusting” he utters loosening his grip and pulling away from you “how could i do this to someone i love so much, i really am a fucking monster” tendou pulls his dick out of you and sits up on the bed burrying himself in his hands, a tiny sob follows through his fingers.

you pause all motion watching tendou cry, he’s so helpless cradling his own body while he plays the years in his mind of your body painted with his cum and his fingers bruised on your throat over and over.

“baby” you whisper, your fingertips graze his soft skin chilled with drying sweat and accompanied with a low vibration from his weeping.

tendou can’t make eye contact with you, not with the amount of insecurity finally settling in his bones and the feeling of his mistreatment towards someone he loved so so much.

“i’m sorry for hurting you—fuck just look at your neck, i don’t know why i have to do this to get off i just—“ he pauses to wince at you coming closer to him, your tits still perked from the lust entanglement and those bright red bruises staring back at him.

you tilt his face up to you with one single finger, never ceasing the comfort in your eyes, the shame that embodies him now makes it hard to word what you want to tell him.

you’re reminded the first time he linked his hands around your throat as you bounced on his dick one night, the way his eyes glowed with power and sex as he pressed down harder making you a creaming mess around him.

while it brought blackness around your eyes as the subtle oxygen left your precious mouth the aftermath of tendou cutely holding you flush to him, whispering praises of how well you did and the never ending “i love you”—that’s all you ever needed to know it was okay, what he did was okay and it is normal.

“satori your hands are too pretty to not be wrapped around something, i’m just lucky it happens to be around my throat” you grin at him watching tendou let a sly smile slip through his worrisome soul.

“oh really?” tendou smirks, neatly wrapping his fingers around your delicate throat and pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

degradation—the act of degrading someone during sexual act, for the pleasure of the degrader as well as the degradee.

｡｡｡

“look at how much of a slut you are, full of my cum yet you want more begging to be filled again just like a bitch in heat” oikawa mocks from above you throwing your legs over his shoulder to rut deeper in your cunt.

his tongue is toxic spitting disgusting words at you, your pussy clenching at every slur he throws at you makes him want to go even further.

the vile and lewd sounds echo through the room while oikawa takes deep strokes in your messy hole, you begin to protest the speed but oikawa clicks his tongue “awh does the whore want to stop now? i thought you wanted to be my cocksleeve, i could just fuck your sister instead if you want to be this way”.

“ah! toru! g-gonna cum soon!” you reach down to circle your swollen clit but oikawa grabs your hand and raises it up to his lips, you brush off the sweet signal until you feel water dripping on your face.

confusion clouds you, making you look up to see oikawa with tears falling from his flushed cheeks and his thousand yard stare boring right in you.

“tooru? baby? what’s wrong? are you okay?” you’re so worried watching oikawa cry helplessly, his body trembling so much it starts to vibrate the bed—he was breaking apart right above you—his soft dick still in you.

“you’re just going to let me talk to you like this? i just said i’d fuck your sister for gods sake, what the fuck is wrong with me?” you immediately push his head into the crock of your neck, swiping comforting circles on his bare muscled back.

“because you like it and there is nothing wrong with that” oikawa grips the mattress under you listening to you reassure him, his anger bubbling up inside him.

“stop! stop trying to make this better, aren’t you listening to what i’ve been saying?” oikawa pulls away from your hold, his lip quivering as he thinks of the times he called you every name in the book and you always came right on command from it.

your hand softly trails up to caress oikawa’s cheek rubbing at the salty stains, his eyes dressed in shame watch you closely as you snake your other hand through his chocolate strands—soothing him mostly but ultimately you want to give him a silent it’s okay.

it reminds you of the first time when oikawa degraded you while he rose above you, his hips colliding into yours as your sloppy cunt throbbed for more of him but the over use of his fingers, tongue and even his dick couldn’t make you cum for him—so you thought.

“you dirty fucking slut you can’t cum for me one more time? you were doin’ it pretty easy earlier, maybe i should invite our sweet iwa-can over so he can watch you be fucked like the whore you are” oikawa sneered, his eyes flickering with lust and excitement.

you gasp out a moan, clenching around oikawa as the disgusting tainted words ignite the lingering coil in your stomach to burst without any hesitation—you’re left a creaming mess filled with oikawa’s cum in the aftermath.

words meant to destroy someone even demean their entire existence and it left you wanting more.

“shit— i’m so sorry i don’t know what came over me, i just wanted you to cum so bad i thought i’d— are you okay?” oikawa tilts over you gently, darting his anxious orbs anywhere he can place them on you.

from that day on he got filthier for every word he spat out and your cunt got messier every single time.

“you think i’d be with you if all we did is have vanilla sex? it’s devastating to hear a pretty boy with such a dirty mouth.” you smile at oikawa, placing a kiss on his neck and reassuring him once again that what he likes is completely normal.

“oh you little slut, you really do know how to make me hard.” oikawa pins you back down to fill that messy hole of yours once again.

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dreamingofaizawa · 3 years

Text

Good Kitty

Shouta Aizawa x Chubby! Kitty Hybrid! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18, leave. Thank you.

Warnings: Kitty hybrid reader, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink (?), reader has insecurities, Shouta is soft and lowkey feral?, chubby kink (sorta), reader has a heat for the first time, barely implied virginity loss, a touch of dacryphilia

Word Count: 2.4 k

Author’s Note: This is inspired by @cupcake-rogue ’s fic Not Allowed on the Bed. I got permission to use it as inspo so here we are! Tbh the orignal had me feeling all sorts of feelings because, as a very subby sub that loves to please, I definitely have a praise kink and I WILL CRY if I’m called a bad girl. HOWEVER, Katsuki being the rough-around-the-edges guy he is wanting reader regardless of size made me very happy and warm and fuzzy.

The premise with this is pretty much the same, except I made reader a kitty hybrid...and of course I wrote for Shouta, love of my life he is. I’m such a fucking simp. I’m not the biggest fan of the ending, but this has been sitting in my WIPs for too damn long and it’s decent enough for me to feel ok posting it.

Also, for reference, reader has black fur regardless of hair color. Reader could be blonde, but still have black ears and tail. That’s just the way I’ve chosen to write this for some reason, don’t ask me why, I’m weird like that.

I think this is the first time I’ve written for a hybrid, so cut me a little slack.

Anywho, enjoy~

You can’t remember life outside the shelter. You’d grown up here, the caretakers said they’d found you on the street as a nearly newborn kitten and immediately scooped you up and brought you back here. That was a long time ago. Now you sit, waiting, your hopes for getting adopted diminishing with every passing day.

It’s unfortunate, but you still haven’t been adopted. It’s not that you’re bad, you always behave, you make sure you do. But you’ve overheard time and time again the people that gazed down at you and whispered about how you were too chunky, too big and too squishy for a kitty hybrid. And some even called you bad luck. The pitch black fur on your ears and tail warded off many.

Today was just the same as any other day. Wake up, get fed, wait in your room while potential owners pick and choose not you. Adults and children alike would take chunks out of their time to play with you, but they all left the shelter with another smaller cat. It was nearing bed time now, dinner just finished and the caretakers were about to start closing when the little bell on the front door jingled. Someone had just come in. You ignored it all the same.

Two pairs of footsteps began making their way past rooms, whoever it was that had entered smelled good, like coffee and tree bark. A smooth hum accompanied the caretaker’s voice, it made your ears twitch and tail sway gently. Still, you decided to just curl up in bed and try to sleep. The chance of him adopting you was slim, if it existed at all.

As you lay there your ears pick up their footsteps, the lazy set that dragged familiar, the nearly silent set less so. You listened as they came closer, never stopping as the man strode past each room and peered in the windows. You waited for them to pass right by your room, as they had been, but suddenly the footsteps halted. The caretaker spoke first.

“Y/n? You awake?” You let your eyes flutter open and sat up, tucking your legs under you and sitting up straight. They asked the man if he wanted to go in and see you, and he gave a simple nod. When he entered you finally looked up at him. The first thing you noticed were his eyes, tired and bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, a deep scar curved under his right eye. His long black hair fell around his shoulders, swaying lightly with every measured step he took toward you.

He stopped right in front of you, a large hand stretching out and you give it a small sniff before nudging your head into it, letting him pet your hair and scratch at the base of your ears. It felt nice to be getting attention like this. A small purr sounded in your chest, your tail gently swishing behind you.

“How long have you been here?” His voice is deep and calm, tired even, but it sounds so welcoming. It’s so soothing to your sensitive ears, like a warm blanket. You give a small hum before answering.

“A long time. I don’t remember anything outside this place.” At that he raised an eyebrow, turning to the caretaker with a questioning look.

“Most people look for...specific traits in the cat hybrids. Y/n here is well behaved, a perfect house kitty really,” you purred a bit at the praise, “But she’s a little larger than most. And her black fur wards off the more superstitious.” The man gives a curious hum before looking back down at you.

“Do you want to come home with me, kitty?” The question caught you a little off guard. Nobody really asked the hybrids if they wanted to go with them. You looked over to the caretaker, who nodded their head with a gentle smile, encouraging you to answer. All you could do was give a small nod, and soon you were in the car, on the way to your new home.

He’d told you to call him Shouta. He was nice, always quiet and never got mad. He never smiled, but you supposed that’s just the way he is. He gave you your own room, and always let you rub up on him when you wanted to, taking the opportunity to pet you. Occasionally you got the odd kiss on the forehead when you nuzzled into his neck. Those always made you purr. He never came seeking you out, which was good since there were times you really didn’t want to be touched.

The longer you’re with him the closer you get, and you find yourself doing things you’d never thought to do before. Sometimes you found the floor more comfortable than the couch, and would kneel down and rub up on his leg, your tail wrapping around his ankle. There were times you’d see his fingers idly drumming on his lap, and you’d lay down and nibble on one with your little fang-like canines. He didn’t seem to mind that little oral fixation, and he always let you do whatever you wanted. All in all, life with Shouta is great.

But today you feel weird. You’d been cooped up in your room for the first hour or so of the weekend morning, not quite wanting to go out and make it known something was off. But it’s gotten abnormally hot, your face and chest especially warm, and between your legs as well. Your panties are beginning to feel damp, your thighs starting to feel humid and sticky. It’s a little uncomfortable. And your tummy is starting to boil, neediness beginning to cloud your mind. This never happened at the shelter.

Reluctantly, you step out of bed onto slightly wobbly legs and peek your head out of your door to see him sitting on the couch, a book in hand and a mug of coffee on the table. His hair is loose, his strong lean body relaxed as he read. The sight of him and his scent made the feeling worse, made your panties and thighs wetter, your chest beginning to heave with your panted breaths.

“Sh-shouta…” Your voice came out shakier and quieter than you wanted it to, but he’d heard you regardless. He closed the book and peered over at your shaking form in the doorway.

“What is it kitty?” You nearly mewled at his voice, his heavenly smooth baritone sending a shiver down your spine through to the tip of your tail.

“Something’s wrong...I feel weird…” As you tell him about everything that’s happening to your body, he’s dragging his eyes over you, taking in every detail. Soon he’s on the phone with the doctor, you can’t quite comprehend his words, only catching snippets. ‘Help’ and ‘how long’, followed by agreeing hums. It was all jumbled after that, your mind refusing to focus as you leaned heavily on the doorframe, your quivering legs barely able to hold your body.

Shouta’s large hand came up and cupped your cheek, letting you nuzzle into his palm. When had he hung up the phone? He ordered you to sit on the bed, and you obliged, watching as he swept up his hair into a loose bun and strode over, tilting your chin to look up at him through half-lidded eyes. He’s so close, his scent overwhelming and making your brain fuzzy.

“You’re in heat, kitty.” Heat...where had you heard that before? Back at the shelter, maybe? It was all a distant, unfocused memory right now. Shouta leaned down and kissed you sweetly, lips melding with yours as you purred and mewled, your tail thrashing behind you. His hands tugged at your clothes until you were bare before him, every inch of you on display.

“You’re such a pretty kitty, you know that? So beautiful. Lay down for me.” The praise made you purr, made a chill crawl up your spine and your tail flick wildly. You obeyed the command, laying flat in the middle of the bed and he slotted himself between your legs, plunging two fingers into your tight hole. He let out a groan, pumping and scicssoring his fingers to stretch you out. You were already a sloppy mess, loud squelches ringing through the room in between your loud, whiny mewls and panting.

It felt so good, the heat in your belly burning and tightening until Shouta’s fingers curled up into a spot that made stars dance in your vision. The pressure in your belly snapped hard, your legs trembling as he kept fingering you through it. His fingers slowed when you whined about it being too much, too sensitive. But you still felt hot all over, now it was worse, you wanted something so bad but you didn’t know what.

He got up and undressed himself and you licked your lips at his naked body, scarred skin pulled taut over thick muscle. What stood between his legs had heat spreading like fire through your body. You’d never seen a naked man before. He was quick to return to you, slotting his hips between your thighs and guiding the thick head of his cock along your soaked folds.

“Relax kitty. I’m gonna make you feel good.” You gave a small nod and then he was pushing his thick cock inside you, groaning at the way your pussy clamped down on him. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as he slowly pushed and pumped his hips, cock dragging along your wet warm walls perfectly. Mewls slipped past your lips, high pitched whines and pants like music in Shouta’s ears.

His hands wandered over your body, squishing and pulling at every piece of you he could get his calloused fingers on. It made you squirm beneath him, your own hands trying to push his away, but he wasn’t having any of it. He grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head in one strong hand, then went right back to groping your body with his free one.

“I can’t have you stopping me from touching you, kitty.” That’s all he said before focusing back on your body. He tugged at your belly, your sides, every place that was fatty and squishy. He’d never admit out loud how much he loved how soft you are. You’re perfect, plump and meaty, just more for him to touch, to look at, more to squeeze and pinch and pull.

He groaned out as you whined beneath him, tears beginning to clump in your lashes because he just kept squeezing, and he isn’t fucking you hard enough. Your orgasm built slowly with his languid pace, not nearly enough to get you to that peak and you were frustrated because you wanted relief but it wouldn’t come. Shouta picks up on your hips jerking and rolling, trying to get him to fucking move faster. He pulled his hips back and slammed back in, setting a brutal pace and making you whine high and long.

Tears begin to fall from the sheer ecstasy of it, and he’s realizing how much he loves to see you cry from the pleasure he can give you. With a groan, he’s releasing your hands and wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face into your breasts and biting and sucking at your skin as he pounds you into the mattress. He isn’t normally an impulsive man, wouldn’t let himself let go like this. But for you. For you he’d give in to his lust and ravage you like you need him to.

Your orgasm slams over your body like a tsunami, your muscles locking up and a loud yip ringing from your throat, pleasure making your whole body shake. Shouta let out a hiss, your nails digging into the muscles in his back furiously, but he wouldn’t stop for that. He never stuttered in his pace, just kept ramming his hips into yours, heavy balls slapping against your ass and lewd squelches coming from where your bodies are connected.

You’re overstimulated, throat feeling raw and tears still falling down your heated cheeks as you thrash from another orgasm, this one just as powerful as the last and making your vision spot black. This time Shouta leans back, wrapping a hand around your throat and licking the salty trails away.

“Such a good little kitty for me, so good.” With a few more thrusts he’s spilling inside you, and you can feel the warmth spread in your belly as you lay there, boneless. He lays down on top of you, both of you sweaty and tired and he starts whispering sweet words into your twitching ears.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, kitten.”

“Such a good girl for me.”

“You’re all mine, kitty. So good, all for me.” Tears begin to spill from your eyes for a different reason. Up until now you’d lived your life believing nobody wanted you because there was something wrong with you. You never felt ugly, never really felt like there was something truly wrong with you, but you always felt...unwanted. Unloved. Unlovable.

But Shouta makes you feel wanted, and loved, and pretty and all the things you always assumed you didn’t deserve. You’re his kitty now, and you’re such a good kitty for him too. He’s showering you with affection that you’d never known before and you’re shaking from all the overwhelming emotions. He can feel your body quivering, leans back to look at you and cups your face in his warm palm.

“What’s wrong, kitten? Why are you crying?” Your nose twitches as you sniffle, which he mildly notes is fucking adorable.

“Do you mean it? Am I a good kitty?” His eyebrows furrow and he rolls the both of you over so you’re on top of him. He’s peering into your big sad eyes as if reading your soul through them, trying to read the emotions you’re feeling, but it isn’t hard for him to figure out what’s racing through your mind. You nuzzle your nose into his neck and breathe in his scent, his hand coming up to pet your hair and ears.

“Of course, kitten. You’re such a good kitty.” The small reassurance makes you feel warm and happy, your tail flicking softly before curling around both your leg and Shouta’s, the end brushing his skin gently. You can’t help but want to stay with Shouta forever.

#shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x fem reader #shouta aizawa mha #shouta aizawa bnha #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x fem reader #aizawa shouta mha #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa mha #aizawa bnha #tw: hybrid #shouta aizawa smut #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa smut

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youreyeslookliketheocean · 3 years

Text

youreyeslookliketheocean’s DSMP Fic Recs!!

Figured it was about time for one of these... :)

Mostly SBI-centric because they’re my favorite dynamic. I’ll probably add to this list as time goes on, and I also want to go back through my ao3 history and find some lesser-known fics I really enjoyed to rec them all. But for now...

* oneshot ** unfinished work

** the lights go out (my heart goes still) by curseworm

With his old home unwelcoming and his new one gone, Tommy is alone. After hours of staggering through the freezing snow, he finds a cabin.

Technoblade’s cabin.

He hides himself away in the deepest corner he can find, taking only what he needs to survive, wasting away in the cold and the dark. He’s petrified at the thought of being found out, terrified of what he thinks Techno would do to him.

When Techno finds his injured teenage brother huddled in a filthy little cave beneath his basement, the rage he feels is immeasurable. The voices demand blood, and blood he will give them. Dream won’t be getting away with this one.

(On the other side of the world, in a country that floats on a man-made lake, Philza gets himself in a bit of a pickle.)

** The hearth down under by Crystalquill

A tiny change gives Tommy the courage to flee to the Nether instead of the cold tundra, finding an unlikely ally in the midst of a fiery hellscape.

But tiny changes can alter the course of history. The SMP will never be the same.

(Lots of cool Nether worldbuilding in this one!!)

to be a wanderer, wandering by hydrangeasheart

Tommy's feet drag in the snow.

It's so, so cold. He's so cold. His toes are freezing. His exposed shins feel like they’ve been cut open-- even the one that’s bandaged. His wings have gone numb, which is almost, almost good, because now he can’t feel the shifting, broken bones inside of the left one, just under feathers and muscle.

He doesn’t know why he’s still walking.

Or, Tommy leaves the exploded ruins of Logstedshire behind, and walks until he finds somewhere safe.

And things keep going from there.

(A canon-divergent AU, splitting off somewhere around when Tommy started hiding out below Techno's house.)

that’s, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know (and then “as long as i’m here”, and “he’s my brother, i just raise him”)

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade.

passerine by thcscus(blujamas)

Do I really need to put the summary here? Pretty much everyone knows this fic. Also, though, if you enjoy this one you should totally read thcscus’ connected fic, “shrike”!! It’s only at 2 chapters right now but it’s already really good and has this dark, foresty aesthetic I love...

not with a bang but with a whimper by dip_dyed_ghost

He knows Tubbo doesn’t care about him anymore. He knows that. He’s been shown that. But it doesn’t stop Tommy from caring about him. He brushes the pads of his fingers over the compass’s glass and wonders how he’s doing, if he’s tired of it all yet, if he needs help. He watches the way it points strongly in the direction over the ocean. He hopes he’s alright.

Even after everything, he hopes he’s alright.

During his exile, Tommy finds a drugged and hurt Tubbo on his doorstep. He can’t not help him.

(This one has a neat take on potions, in my opinion. Also it’s only 4 chapters so it’s a quick read!)

take this compass, follow it home by lightning_anon

Tommy's a fuck up, he can't pay attention, and never sits still. He taps his hands, pushes people away, and has never had a best friend. He's a screwed up, forgotten kid lost in the foster system. He's also just been placed with a new family. Tommy knows how this goes, he never ends up staying long. After all, no one wants a fuck up like him.

Why would this house be any different?

Or: the obligatory sleepy bois foster fic, but with a focus on the neurodivergent kids that inevitably get lost in the system.

(Genuinely want to see more books like this in original fiction. It’s part of what inspired my newest og wip, “To Build a Home.” So sweet and I feel like I had my eyes opened to some neurodivergent tendencies I never knew existed. I read this in a day and can’t rec it enough.)

bloodlines by youreyeslookliketheocean

Tommy’s an orphan on the run from his previous guardian. Philza’s a king who prides himself on keeping his kingdom in an era of peace. Wilbur’s the crown prince, and Techno’s right beside him as his adopted brother. When Phil’s kingdom of Pogtopia is threatened by the bloodvines—a strange, brainwashing plant infecting many of the surrounding kingdoms—the four must work together to keep the kingdom, and their family, safe. --- A royal au sbi fic... + the bloodvines, for spice.

(Yes I’m self-promoting. But, in my defense, I’m very proud of it. If you checked it out it would mean the world to me :’))

Heat Waves by tbhyourelame

Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.

Another fic I think pretty much everyone knows about. Listen, listen... I was once an idiot who said “Oh no, I’ll never read Heat Waves. It’s irl, not characters, and it’s probably cringe”... No. I was so wrong. This fic is wonderfully written, with a pretty quick moving plot and great characterizations. You do need an ao3 account to access it, though. Just to let you know. (Also read “Helium”, unfinished and hasn’t updated in awhile, but it’s the continuation).

Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous

Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old.

He'd been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

Tommyinnit’s unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii

“I uh,” Tommy starts, not knowing how to break this to the hero lightly. He hates to be the bearer of bad news. “I think your powers are broken? It’s not a bad thing of course, but like, I swear you tried to mind control me and it like, totally failed. Which is fine, honestly, don’t feel insecure. Everyone’s power stop working sometimes… I think.”

Sheesh, this is very awkward. Why is no one else talking? Why is Philza looking at him like he grew three heads? Why is the Blade staring at him so intensely? Why is Willow still frozen?

“Did I, did I hit a nerve? Yikes,” Tommy hisses, “Well um,” He steps back, bracing his legs and bending his knees, “This was like super fun, but I’m - I’mma head out.”

or,

in which Tommy manages to annoy the hell out of Phil, Techno and Wilbur by being both impossible to catch and irritatingly endearing.

or or,

a crack fic where Tommy is a vigilante and Phil, Techno and Wilbur are the heroes hunting him down.

(Feel like I am obligated to say how incredibly funny this fic is. Seriously. I have a distinct memory of sitting on my neighborhood park’s swing, giggling hysterically, while reading this. Well...until the end... but we won’t get into that...)

** bones in the ocean by bunflower

“Your reputation precedes you, y’know.”

“Does it, now?” Philza watches him coyly from where he’s now leaning against the wall, arms folded around his chains and gaze half-lidded, his lips curled in an arrogant, cat-like smirk.

“The Angel of Death, the ferryman of the Styx, the terror of the western seas. One of the most feared captains ever to sail, and yet, I have to wonder… how did a man like you end up all on his own? We searched the area where you were found—not another soul in sight. So,” He fixes him with a long look, allowing the silence to hover like a dark cloud, the words rolling off of his tongue with all the venom and smugness he can muster, “—tell me, Philza. Where is your crew?”

OR: Technoblade is a naval captain, and Phil his unwilling prisoner. Somehow, they manage to come out of it as friends in the end.

(Is this fic considered popular like passerine/Heat Waves now? Cause I feel like it’s reputation precedes itself, at this point... Pirate au.)

****

Okay! That’s it for now. Like I said, though, I want to add to this over time and also dig back for some older things I’ve read. Also, if you have any recs feel free to send them in! I’m about to go back to school and therefore might not have time for reading fun stuff, but whenever I get the chance I’d love to check them out!!!

Happy Reading!!

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alfredolover119 · 3 years

Note

I looooove your zukka rec lists! I recently became Avatar-obsessed, never got a chance to watch it as a kid and only just got through it all! I was wondering if you'd consider doing a specifically angst rec list? I love fluffy zukka everything, but sometimes you just gotta have your heart ripped out of your chest and put back in after being thoroughly blended.

thank you! i relate heavily to “recently became Avatar-obsessed” haha. as for the angst list, i sure can try! warning: all of these have happy endings because im a crybaby who can’t read unhappy endings. also, p much all of the fics in the completed section were featured on my other lists but this is specifically the ANGSTY ones >:^)

angsty zukka wips

first, most obviously, feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe

-currently at 102k with 19/27 chapters posted; rated teen

-the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. you know. i haven’t actually read it yet because, as previously mentioned, i’m a crybaby and am waiting for it to finish up but, from my understanding, this fic will murder you in a dark alleyway with no remorse. if u like zukka angst, you’ve probably already read this, but just in case!

An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. // But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by @goldrushzukka

-currently 38k with 6/8 chapters posted; rated mature

-holy shit. holy SHIT. modern au based on the “my cat likes my fuckbuddy and i am falling in love” trope(?). maybe it’s just because of how the last chapter ended, but oh my god. this one made me cry. made me want to commit violence. when it’s not angsty as hell, it’s pretty funny, but holy shit. ao3 user nebulastucky please.

It’s supposed to be a one night stand. Pick up some guy at a bar, barely remember his name and never learn anything real about him, send him packing in the morning with a thanks for the ride and a cup of coffee to-go. That’s how it’s supposed to go. // But then it’s the best sex Sokka has ever had, and he thinks he’ll hate himself if he never gets to have it again.

Violet Blossoms and Celestial Objects by @hollypunkers

-currently 15k with 2/? posted. rated teen.

-this is the sequel to blue (an angsty, zukka rewrite of book 2-- go read it if u havent!)! !! this is a book 3 rewrite. only two chapters in and mrs hollypunkers is really abusing the miscommunication tag, as zukka writers seem to enjoy doing. im excited to see how the world and story develops with the changes to the story! you should be too!! its very good! obviously spoilers for blue lmao

Having sided with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se, Zuko not only must navigate his new relationship with Sokka but returning to the Fire Nation as a banished enemy. His own journey of self discovery and personal growth must now coexist alongside the personal struggles of every other member of the Gaang as together they blaze a treacherous path toward an unsure victory against Zuko's own father and nation.

breakable heaven by @fruitysokka

-currently 71k with 9/11 chapters posted. rated teen

-swt ambassador zuko! soon to be chief sokka! fake dating ur best friend to get out of an arranged marriage! what could go wrong!!! i also haven’t read this one ((see: i’m a crybaby who is being hurt by too many zukka wips already)), but it has been hanging out in my marked for later for months. from what i understand, this fic has: angst.

With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? // Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

angsty zukka fics (completed!)

(i’ll put these in wc order)

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka

-7k, rated g

-a modern college au!! zuko’s inner-monologue is very angsty in this fic. typical zuko. also per usual, theyre both fucking dorks. they sort themselves out in the end, but not before The Angst. zuko is semi-deaf in this fic and also he has a bit of internalized homophobia.

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas

-9k, explicit

-moon spirit/nwt prince!sokka, no war to be found here! admittedly this isnt THAT angsty but like. the angst IS present. zuko is still the prince. a lovely childhood friends (though they hated each other for a minute haha) to lovers story.

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9k, teen

-modern au! zuko and sokka are college roommates. zuko goes to spend the summer with sokka. again,, not really that angsty but-- its there!! the detail and feeling of Home in this story make me happy. zuko is insecure as hell here too. if ur into that.

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9k, teen

-yes. this one right here officer. it makes my heart ache. also trans sokka! which is cool. but the zuko angst in this one. hurts me. not so much relationship angst as it is zuko learning he deserves happiness angst. i’m sure u know The Type.

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey

-10k, mature

-OUCH. OUCH OUCH OUCH. boys please learn to communicate im begging u. also zuko.. zuko, dude. as the tags of the fic say, hes “really going through it” in this one. YOUCH. post-canon.

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee

-18k, teen, major character death

-i lied. THIS is the one, officer. found family.. good mai and zuko and toph friendships.. . ozai escapes prison and tries to overthrow zuko. OBVIOUSLY angst ensues. poor boy. he Does heal in this but it gets worse before it gets better. angst angst angst angst.

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23k, explicit

-istg. this is probably one of my favorite zukka fics. its PAINFUL. modern au where theyre broken up but sokka hasnt told his family yet so zuko goes home with him for kataang wedding. a bit smutty, but the plot oh my god ohgm y fuvk. made me cry the first time i read it. (see: crybaby!me) insert that one picture of the horse with the caption PAIN.

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. // Things don't go as planned.

Moving Mountains by @thefangirlingdead

-64k, mature

-so. when i read this the first time it was in one sitting. soulmate au set within canon era / the comics, to an extent. soulmates can hear each others thoughts. i will happily say this is slowburn, jesus christ. champagne without the cham.

Soulmates are chosen by the spirits and can hear each other’s thoughts. Sokka thinks it’s cheesy and dumb. Zuko thinks it’s poetic justice that he doesn’t have one because he doesn’t deserve it. Cruel irony is finding out that the prince of the Fire Nation (and the person currently hunting you) is your soulmate.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-83k, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka living in the northern water tribe. zuko is sent to the northern water tribe as a cultural liaison. iroh is the fire lord but while he is away taking care of lu ten after his injury ozai steps up. i cannot express how many emotions this fic made me feel. background yuetara. i would almost say found family?? but. anyway. plenty of angst to spare here with a healthy dose of enemies to friends to lovers.

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103k, teen

-now now now. tms... modern college au where sokka agrees to tutor zuko in physics because zuko has to maintain straight a’s and physics is just not doing it for him. so. thats cool but THEN azula moves in, randomly, with zuko. to hide the fact that sokka is tutoring zuko, they fake date! what could go wrong!! the mutual pining in here combined with the angst... wonderful, tasty. everyone read it rn. also SLOWBURN

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?

#zukka #zuko #sokka #angst #zukka angst #atla #avatar: the last airbender #fic recs #zukka fic recs

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woman-with-no-name · 2 years

Text

Dutch van der Linde x f!reader

Title: "The Struggle Within"

A/N: Just a little self-indulgent comfort drabble that has been in my wips for a while, I wrote it when I needed it so I thought I might share it in case someone else might need it too. Not proofread, excuse any mistakes, not a native English speaker.

Word count: 940

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Can be read as a gn!reader too, but there's one use of a female specific word. So just a heads up.

Summary: Reader feels self-conscious and Dutch is there to comfort them.

Story under the cut!

"Why are you even with me?" You quietly ask.

"Because you are beautiful and smart." Dutch answers confidently as he pats your leg without lifting his gaze from the book he's currently holding.

"...but since you ask questions like that, I'm not so sure about the latter." He light-heartedly teases you after a small pause, and gently runs his hand up your ankle. You are already laying in your shared cot while he's sitting at the end of it. Two small candles illuminate his face as the daylight is long gone in Clemens Point. You can't help yourself but admire his willingness to finish the chapter he's currently on, even though it must be exhausting to make out words under such dim lightning.

"I'm not so sure about both of those things..."

You mumble into your pillow, almost not wanting him to hear you. You didn't like exposing your "petty" problems to Dutch. He has way more important things to care about than your insecurities.

"Hey now, what's wrong darling?" He puts the book away on the small nightstand and leans on his elbow, closer to you.

"Nothing, Dutch, it's nothing... I'm just tired."

You avoid his gaze. You know that after being together for a while one look in his direction will allow him to read you just like that book. And you want to hide it, whatever it may be boiling inside you.

He sighs and gets up, staring to undo the buttons on his striped shirt. You watch him as he folds his clothes and leaves them on a nearby chair. He puts on his red union suit that he pulled out of the trunk laying at the end of the bed. After a few more moments he joins you under the covers, laying on his side, facing you. He watches you closely and goes to cover your hand with his. It feels nice, soothing, no matter how cold the weather gets, his hands are always warm. He closes his hand over yours, lightly moving his thumb up and down your skin.

"Don't lie to me. Please."

You sigh. The feeling of regret about starting this conversation is already forming your mind.

"Forget it Dutch. Please. I. Just. I can't." You shakily breath out the words. A lonesome tear stains your pillow. Another one forms at the corner of your eye. It melts into the knuckles of his hand. He caresses your cheek and his fingers travel behind your head, threading through your hair.

"Shh. Come here. It's alright." He opens up his arms as an invitation.

Half teary eyed you bury yourself in his embrace. His smell is familiar, comforting. He moves your hair out of the way as he cradles your head into his chest, holding you like the most precious thing in the world. He hushes you as you sob, softly kisses the top of your head and starts sweetly humming a familiar tune to your ear. You recognize it immediately, its one of his records. A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. He clears his throat when he reaches a high note. You let out a little laugh at that. He leans closer and smacks his lips right next to your ear.

"And now I'll squeeze the sorrow out of you..." He says as calmly as possible before he grabs your waist and turns over. You end up being under him as he attacks your face with kisses and nuzzles in your neck.

"Dutch!" You yell out mid laughing as his facial hair feels antagonizingly ticklish on the soft skin of your neck. You poke his ribs under the red union suit.

"Oh don't do that girlie, that sure as shit won't stop me." He chuckles at your feble attempt to subdue him. You scream in suprise as he suddenly grabs you and lifts you up in his lap. You both look at eachother in question when the cot loudly creaks.

"Any more of this ruckus and we'll have to sleep on the floor."

"Wouldn't be the first time." He runs his hands over your back. "Anything to hear you laugh again." He smiles.

You bring your forehead down against his as you cup his face. There are signs of age on his skin, you feel the small wrinkles around his eyes under your fingertips. You think about him getting his first grays, oh what a joy will that be, you know he will be mad at you for liking them. Another smile creeps up on your face.

"I'm sorry for being like this, for feeling like this... I just, don't like myself sometimes...". You exhale. The words coming out harder than you thought.

He looks you in the eyes, your faces only inches apart.

"Darling, don't ever apologize for being true with me. I'll do everything in my might to convince you otherwise, to see yourself as I see you."

He kisses you only to pull away after a few seconds.

"As a gorgeous." Another peck. "Intelligent..." One more. "...caring angel, that I'm lucky to have." He brushes your lips with his, lingering for a moment, before crashing them together. You wrap your arms around his neck as he brings you both down on the mattress again, gently this time. You pull away to speak but when you see him lovingly staring back at you your mouth closes. You pull him back by the collar, hugging him tightly. You fall asleep in eachothers arms, but this time you don't fear the new light of day, you eagerly await for it, to see the love in his eyes once again.

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prismatales · 3 years

Text

Word Count: 1.2k

Pairing: Mirio Togata x Reader

Tags/Warnings: Fluff fluff and more fluff, Mirio being a nervous wreck, little pinch of insecurities.

Hello there! It’s been a while but I’m back with some BNHA Fluff starring the sunshine boy himself! This is my entry for Anilysium’s sfw Collab. This month the prompt was “Accidental Kiss”, you can find the masterlist with everyone’s works here!

This idea has been sitting in my wips since September and it was the perfect opportunity to work on it! Hope you guys enjoy it! Special thanks to @vivianvampyric for beta reading, I loved all of your suggestions, baby!

No matter how many times you thought about it, every single time was just as hilarious.

How can somebody as brave, cheerful and fearless as Mirio Togata be as nervous as his childhood friend, Tamaki Amajiki, at the idea of a confession? The same guy who faced the head of the Yakuza without hesitation is currently sitting beside you with rosy cheeks, looking around the park nervously while one hand brushes the back of his neck.

“So, you wanted to talk about something, right?”

When he asked you to meet him in the park during the weekend, you never expected this outcome. It’s almost like you’re standing before a completely different person as he continues to look away.

“Ahaha… it’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” He asks.

“Ah, yes it is.”

The way Mirio avoids the question confuses you, but it’s the way his hand clutches his knee anxiously, the way he coughs lightly, and the way his eyes avoid you to watch the children playing nearby, that makes your eyes widen slightly.

Could it really be what you think it is?

The more you look at him, it becomes more obvious that he’s having a hard time expressing his thoughts.

“We’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we?” He stated simply as you nodded in response.

“Yeah, remember the first time we met?” He groans as you giggle at the memory. During your U.A. entrance exam you ended up in the same testing area as Mirio. He could almost hear your shrill cries of embarrassment after he used his quirk in front of you for the first time. “Talk about first impressions, huh?”

Neither of you can stop laughing at the memory, thinking of all the good times from high school as well as the bad, which only helped you grow stronger.

You both went through hardships, providing each other a shoulder to lean on. But maybe you could be more than that one day…?

“You’re sweating a lot. Mirio, are you sure you’re okay?” He just nods quickly, pulling at the collar of his shirt that suddenly feels awfully suffocating. Despite all the emotions running wild through his head, he never stops smiling, which is something you will never stop admiring, no matter what. It’s exactly that optimism that made you develop feelings for him in the first place.

“I’m fine, I'm fine! I just… There’s something I’ve wanted to ask for a long time.” He stays quiet for a short period. Once he takes a long, deep breath that soothes his nerves, his whole attitude shifts instantly.

With the confidence of a thousand men, Mirio rises from his seat on the bench to stand before you with a determined look on his face. It’s a simple gesture, but it’s more than enough to make the heat in your face grow within a matter of seconds, paralyzing you in place as you stare back at him with the fabric of your sundress clutched tightly between your fists.

After taking another breath, Mirio finally gathers the courage he needed to speak.

“We’ve known each other for a while now, and you’re also one of my closest friends.” Did he just friendzone you? “You’ve always been there for me, from the moment we walked into the same classroom, to all those times we needed help watching Eri. And we never stopped talking even after graduating, and I love having you around.”

What is this weird aching inside your chest? It’s almost like there’s something crawling its way through your ribcage, slowly approaching your heart to crush it in a deathly grip.

“Ahaha… yeah, it’s unbelievable, isn’t it?” You almost want to whimper on the spot, feeling like a small child after being scolded by their parents: Small, sad and vulnerable. It’s too good to be true, isn’t it? That the guy you’ve had a crush on for years feels the same way about you?

You snap out of those negative thoughts when he takes your hands in his own. They’re much bigger than yours and covered in scars; you can feel the texture of each and every single one, all proof of all his hard work and dedication.

“The thing is,” his thumb traces small circles on top of your hand, making your heart beat faster against your chest. “I want to be more than friends with you!”

It’s incredible how a couple of words have such strength, enough to make the hammering in your chest intensify at a deafening pace that you swear even Mirio can hear. The words stay jammed in your throat, unable to come out through your trembling lips, which you lick nervously.

You’re so nervous that all of your senses feel like they’ve been amplified. Everything sounds so far and so close at the same time. The pounding in your chest, the lively chirping of the birds, the children playing behind Mirio: they sound closer than before, the noises blurring together into an incoherent mess.

“I love how you help everyone around you. How brave and fearless you are. That little scrunch of your nose whenever you’re deep in thought. That cute laughter of yours. I want to—!”

The sound of a loud smack can be heard in the distance, followed by a surprised shout from Mirio. All of sudden, you feel a blunt pain on your forehead as Mirio is suddenly pushed forwards and his face smashes painfully against yours. At the same time, a soft pair of lips come crashing down upon yours and his blue eyes are wide open as they stare into yours. There’s a shrill ringing in your ears as you’re trying to process everything going on.

Mirio’s body is draped over yours, one of his hands pressed firmly against the back of the bench to stop the fall. Neither of you move from the shock, caught off guard by the sudden change of events. Your mind is a cloudy mess when Mirio’s lips finally part from your own, leaving you both in a daze.

“I’m sorry sir!” A small voice snaps you out of it as Mirio turns around in surprise. One of the children from before is standing nearby, holding a red ball with an embarrassed smile. Are they sorry because they hit Mirio with the ball or because they interrupted?

You don’t know, but keep staring silently at their small frame as they run away with that ball clutched in their tiny hands.

“Hahaha...Talk about unexpected.” Once again, Mirio’s scratching the back of his head, chuckling as he looks away in embarrassment. But hearing those familiar giggles of yours makes him look back at you. “Everything okay?”

“You know, people usually start dating first before sharing their first kiss. But that was nice too.”

Mirio blinks repeatedly, processing your words over and over as you stand up from your seat, trying to smooth the wrinkles in your dress after clutching the fabric so hard.

“Does that mean... what do I think it means?”

“...Yeah, it does.” Your head is tilted gently to the side. “I like you too, Mirio. And I feel the same way.”

“Good,” He grabs your hands again, slowly lacing your fingers together. “Good. Can I… kiss you again?”

“Mhmm, just be careful of flying balls this time.”

Taglist (If your name is in bold I couldn't tag you.)

@bnha-ra @godtieruwu @hanniejji @mysticalite @savagetrickster @shoobirino @songsforbnha @sugacookiies @unbreakableeiji @pixxiesdust @hawks-senseis @yikerb @definitely-yours @khemz1312 @sadskater25 @ruinedbyatrashcan @lemonadencran @honeytama

#bnha imagine #mha imagine #mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #boku no hero academia #mirio togata #bnha fluff #it's been 84 yeaaaaars #🎮.mirio togata

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