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pluralsword · 1 year

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Xenogender and Ao3 and Art

Hi xenogender and xenoaesthetic folks, entities, and realms and all and none,

it has occurred to us that we um, have written the majority of works on Archive of Our Own that have the xenogender tag. And we’re asking ourselves, we can’t be the only [(alien) robot] persons that plays around with this stuff right? (we’re plural btw)

When we talk to trans folks whether plural or nonhuman or no a bunch of folks relate to our terminologies we’ve come up with and sometimes giving people a look at the worldbuilding doc we’re not quite ready to post yet helps especially if they aren’t going to read fics generally, but also we know that our own experience with aesthetics that our oldest headmate struggled with for more than two decades to put words to and we helped her grasp she pronouns for, for herself in non-human history and assemblage terms, is just one small part of the vast xeno aesthetic spectrum. We’re just one system, and we want to know... what stories have you written, or are writing or making? We thought it might be cool if people reblogged around with their own stuff so their could be a post where all our stuff is together. More than anything- we feel a bit lonely sometimes, because being both on a xeno aesthetic spectrum and by and large a bunch of robots- we are beloved by our community and friends and loved ones, for which we are very thankful, and know a folks who can relate, but we wanna know what people are up to, or just thoughts.

So for those unfamiliar with us, our fanfic (we will eventually do original fiction) is about (Trans)formers and navigates hopepunk stuff regarding autonomy and aesthetic iteration with sparring, family, war, subaltern and community, love, diplomacy, gestalt consciousness, and so forth, drawing in part on the beautiful lore from seven different gender expansive canonical transforming robots in particular before Transformers Earthspark hit and introduced Nightshade (aside from how their whole choosing alt mode thing very much feels like choosing aesthetic expression and in Twitch’s case came before her pronouns were used but anyway) but specifically Arcee(s), Anode, and Lug. Our pg-13 or g-rated works thus far are mostly in the Autosignet Cycle aside from a few shipping fics. The Autosignet Cycle, mostly set in an original continuity, is probably going to continue for years with more fics to come, we started planning out very early versions of this in 2020 but tfwiki’s discord is what jumpstarted our first fic for the series, Day of Multiflame:

1. Day of Multiflame (complete)

A day of mirth, of memory, of rejoicing, of flames dancing together. On this ancient Camien holiday, some plucky heroes young and old across assemblage including two organics come together to celebrate, and to face the struggles ahead, of transformer majority worlds approaching outright conflict over rejoining the largest treaty organization of the galaxy… All the while ancient conflicts and motives beyond their current understanding overshadow everything, rolled up in the origins of these transforming robots. Between intergenerational family, swords, gifts, and I love yous and more, the steadying of each other is enough, to have a little bit of joy and wisdom on this Day of Multiflame.

2. Wheels of Mutuality and Symbiosis (complete)

Glyph tries to lucid dream to solve the puzzle of her sleep issues, not all is as it seems- but her love of Tap-Out and what informs her aesthetic experience runs strong, helping her through to some long awaited elucidations that are big if true.

This has some big zoomdare energy but I think that is what I often will end up writing.

3. Hold on to Your Dancing (complete)

In honor of xenogender visibility day (May 15th)- I resolved to write two poems, one about my own experience remains unfinished, but one in honor of robot aesthetics via fanfiction was something I was able to finish.

Here you'll find some hints about my plot - some of what this story is on about - with a visiting of the past: the beginning of the last territorial campaign of the Anti-Functionist War, from two war veterans you'll meet later.

4. Honey I’m Cheering For You But No (complete)

A blast to the past before the Anti-Functionist War- archivist Prowl is trying to sort out his life, hasn't been so easy for him after an awful job that has left him very sensitive to the disquiet of society as the very subtly not so Golden Age reaches an end. His old friends Arcee and Aileron who unintentionally helped spark his journey are visiting- and he is beside himself. What does it all mean to him, to them, to carry on as they do, to transform?

In short, we the author finally give some answers with words to the slice of life actions you saw play out in Day of Multiflame- answers very much in context with Sparkflung Trust.

5. Rekindling Flight (incomplete, 7/13 chapters)

At long last, The vast majority of transformers, residing in the Planetwell Polity Alliance, are about to rejoin the largest galactic alliance, which the PPA originally helped create and was expelled from after the Unicron invasion and the subsequent thousands year long war with Functionist usurpers. But, all is not well- threats loom from all corners upon the Autobot revolution: Decepticons, Unicronists, Functionists, and deep existential problems with past, present, and future will try people from all walks of life fighting for intergenerational hope and love.

Nonetheless, something new and wonderful yet old and familiar is afoot- efforts by trillions and their many subalterns are not vain: the power and practice of iterative story.

6. Addendum (incomplete, estimated 10/30 chapters)

7 million years ago, the latest blow to gender on Cybertron is dealt by the rising Functionist tide, stirring an Arcee struggling with loneliness and aesthetic dysphoria into enraged action to help bots in the Hadean System across the aesthetic spectrum save their transformative glory and stories… in the process, she finds aid from the scientist Jhiaxus, who also offers her a new reformatting surgery to let her spark do shaping with CNA editing help. Thus begins a new chapter in her life as a founding member of the expansion of what would later be called the Anti-Vocation League alongside her beloved partner and fellow old person Codexa, while grappling with her own growing pile of pains and traumas. As the millennia carry on and she heads to space, she eventually meets Anode and Lug in the stars, and some dear moments near the present all the way through to events after Transformers: Optimus Prime #25: Post… where she helps some gender expansive bots, and with help from Aileron and her pals she finally gets some answers and closure to her own self, and has a reckoning with forces pitted against her for millions of years. The years after are not what she expected during most of her life prior, and she is glad for them…

This is a fanfic revolving around IDW1, that seeks to add to her already detailed and beautiful arc of a trans woman errant warrior sage coming to terms with herself and deciding to trust people and herself. We love her transformations very dearly, and wanted to attempt to reconcile her appearance in Spotlight: Arcee with her later writing, drawing on wisdom gathered through study and experience, and imagination to connect the dots. As you can tell just from the mention of Codexa in the tags above, this revisiting of IDW1 Arcee’s tale is in part made possible by later writing of gal transformers who we adore, and we will note we draw from ones from all across the decades of fiction of Transformers. What can we say, we love them, and know so much more about ourselves than we ever would have because of them.

For this post, we will note: though it is an IDW1 fic with m-spec and f-spec bots, we build quite a bit of gender variety and relation into it that makes it readily apparent that Cybertron of old is even more different from human histories of such in that regard, we will spoil a little and say that we intend to show how of then aesthetics is remembered and remade into something new and old in the years after the end of the official story...

7. Sparkflung Trust (complete)

Written for a Transformers "fanthology" and also is a tie-in to the Autosignet Cycle original continuity we have been writing - along with a bit of IDW1, Cyberverse, and Alternity. A story about transformation in many senses (surprise), including a quest for the Transformation Matrix … inside of one of the most powerful creatures transformers have ever encountered. What will the errant people on the journey realize, and will it be enough to put into practice to succeed?

If you want to see the other standalone fics we’ve done, including ones about beloved Acid Storm and Overlord, go take a look at our Ao3 page! :3

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thejudgingtrash · 4 years

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Annabeth is a good person,but not a nice or pleasant one,IMO.

YES.

That’s it. That’s the post. Pack it up everybody, we just cracked the case and cleared up one of the most compelling fights in the PJO fandom since forever. Good job everybody, clap it out and there’s the door! Don’t forget ordering the drinks at Starbucks, Mitch! They’re on me!

Okay, but on a more serious note: YES. YES EXACTLY.

And before some of you roll your eyes or grab your pitchforks – put your biases aside and hear me out for once. I like Annabeth. She’s my in my top three characters only second to Percy himself. I love Percabeth. It’s my favorite ship in the entire series and to be frank, the only ship that I care about PJO wise. Hell, I spend my time creating my own headcanons or writing my own fanfics with Percabeth being the star in them.

But that is not to say that I’m unable to see how certain things have developed over the years or where they stand now in regard to Annabeth. I’m not here to ignore things that have been said and/or done due to or in the name of Annabeth and I’m not here to vilify anyone that doesn’t like her. And I’m here to admit that I’m guilty of some of the things that may be addressed in this meta essay that you will read in just a second. However, I try my best to assure you, that I’m for once able to recognize my own bias.

Warning: a monster essay lies right upon you.

This should count as a paper of its own.

Back to the statement on top: I would go out even further to reframe your claim, anon:

Annabeth Chase is a good character but not a nice or pleasant person.

Annabeth is a wonderful character but she isn’t a nice one. Or at least not nice to everyone. She is (construction wise if I dare say) the best character out of the series. She has her positive traits (she’s caring, she’s emotional, she’s encouraged and volunteers, she fights for what she believes in, she forgives (even if doing so begrudgingly)) but she also has her negative traits (she’s stubborn, she’s brash, changing her mind takes forever, she is prejudiced, she baits others). That balances things out. She is branded as the intelligent kid but does irrational things (like I’ve just said a) she’s a kid and b) she’s not a robot). She should probably know better, but we all make mistakes and hopefully grow and learn from them. The clouds in the sky do blur and cover our visions sometimes.

Annabeth had clashes with other characters or was about to have fights due to her stubbornness or jealousy (Rachel, Reyna, etc.) and has of course her problems with the mortal world and her family but she also found new friends, some things cleared up throughout the narration and she was/is quite popular in Camp Half-Blood.

The thing is: she doesn’t have to be nice or pleasant (as a character). Or at least not all the time. Her character is humanized. That is what or who she is. Human. She does stand out as a character, not just because she’s the (future) love interest. She feels like someone you could meet in real life and either adore from the top to the bottom or declare as your biggest enemy. And that’s totally okay if you lean either way – liking or disliking her. Or even feeling indifferent about her. Also great!

To say that she has been the best character that Riordan has crafted is easy to say, because she has been sculpted after Riordan’s wife. He had a model he could rub some of real-life events or traits on. That’s not the problem. The problem truly doesn’t lie on Riordan’s side for the most part for once.

The problem is inherently on the fandom’s side. What the fandom does, how it acts and how it treats Annabeth as a character is the problem. The problems vary but it’s mostly the mischaracterization of Annabeth, starting fights and fan/ship wars, internalized misogyny (in some cases) and how some of the Annabeth stans lash out (ha, got firsthand experience in that field among many of my friends and mutuals!). There is a reason why many people are wary of people that have Annabeth or Percabeth related URLs.

The fact that we see Annabeth mostly through Percy’s lens and (until the Heroes of Olympus saga hits) we never really see her in chill everyday situations is essentially Riordan leaving the back door of the house open, ready for all of you asshats to rob his mansion in Boston. Because a frame on a character means that we don’t get to see the character in its entirety (unlike we do with Percy in PJO for the most part). That means a bunch of stuff is left open for interpretation which is the reason why Annabeth gets so many polarized headcanon and opinions tossed around. I think that is one of the true appeals of Annabeth. You can add on stuff and it necessarily doesn’t have to contradict itself.

We have people calling her abusive due to a (n admittedly stupid and unnecessary) judo flip and we have people that act like she’s never done anything wrong. People sorta use this excuse to form and shape Annabeth however they want and distort her characterization.

People in the fandom act like Annabeth is some weird prized possession. We perceive Annabeth mostly through the eyes of others (Percy, Apollo, etc.) and when we had some sort of insight in her ways (MOA, HOH) it felt… weird? Somewhat? Like Riordan left two bullet points of her characterization and told the ghostwriter: aight, fuck it up, gringo, see you on Tuesday and greet Fred the next time you see him for me.

There have been many posts lately (by Tharini, Simi, Sawasawako, Jewishpercy and Annie I believe?) that HOO Percabeth felt weird. That they felt weirdly constructed, that there was no conflict, no growth. It felt stagnating, like we’re turning back. We had five books prior where we had Annabeth and Percy slowly shifting from disliking to liking and crushing each other. True development. And when we finally got the cake it felt… dissatisfying. Like the cheap box stuff and not the delicious exquisite taste that we were promised.

I said it previously in my Percabeth ship roast, but let me repeat myself: many Percabeth related things are straight up fanon. Some of it is very old fanon so that’s been unable to distinguish unless you’ve read the books recently and subtract nearly 99,9% of things you see on Tumblr (and occasionally the other shitty parts of the fandom like Reddit, IG, Twitter. Although they mostly steal and recycle tumblr stuff oh well. But back to the topic).

The way people treat Annabeth is so strange. She’s either an innocent fluffy smush baby that’s never harmed a fly and all that she wants for Christmas is being Percy’s lapdog or she’s the devil incarnate, broke into your house, killed your parents Batman style, kicked your puppy and didn’t flush the toilet on the way out. I think this is what mostly makes people hate her or the ship Percabeth. And both extremes are wrong and right at the same time? She is multifaceted so both stereotypes are true and untrue and sorta cancel each other out in the same way.

The true reason why people dislike Annabeth is because the stans are doing the most. (The haters as well, don’t get me wrong, but oh boy. Piss of a stan and you’ll know what I mean). That isn’t inherently new. Are you guys old enough to remember the ship wars that have happened cross platform? Perachel vs. Percabeth? Oh boy, oh boy. I saw some kids on tumblr a few months ago trying to infiltrate both tags and start shit (and also fail). The fact that Rachel still gets used as the bitchy (ex) girlfriend in fanfics? It’s 2020 guys. I know this apocalyptic year is far from perfect and over but I think we can let this trope die, right? Right? I thought we’ve established that Rachel is a pretty chill charcter by now… right?

If you posted your stuff on FFN back in 2010-2013 and it wasn’t the typical cutesy Percabeth story (Goode High, the gods read TLT, punk/prep Percabeth, college AU, etc.) people would’ve come for your fucking throat. Not because the story or the narration was shit. But because the pairing wasn’t Annabeth and Percy (in the sense that Annabeth had to be paired with Percy. I mean Percy gets shipped with everyone and their mother but for Annabeth it was strictly Percy. As annoying as this whole Connabeth thing is – the people behind it actually had a point. She never had a different love interest unless it’s a Percy centered story and he goes off dating Athena, Artemis and Zoe at the same time for some odd reason. Yeah, FFN Percy ships are something). Or it wasn’t the action filled canon compliant story or it wasn’t an AU that was popular.

People were really stubborn, snobbish and wanted their stuff in the four five boxes that were the most popular ones and that’s it. People have been bullied off the site in many fandoms, so it’s not a PJO-only thing but it’s still sad that it happened. (Off-note: most of these FFN tropes are still alive and well and thriving on AO3. Don’t be so snobbish and pretend that every piece you’d find there is a holy grail. There’s a lot of trash you have to waddle through. Same with Wattpad, Tumblr or anywhere else where fanfics get posted. Also had this discussion with Annabeth stans. Sigh).

And Tumblr back then? Forget it, wasn’t much better.

That view has sorta changed (at least for people that have been in the fandom for several years or have managed to find a way to navigate through it) but some of the negative sentiment from back in the day has survived. Be it by new fans coming in or from old fans that never let their stance die. The aggression feels differently and somewhat not. (I don’t know if the anon function had been abused that much back in the day. I was an observer not a participant in the fandom).

Crack a joke at Annabeth’s expense (Kal’s famous “Annabeth is a Republican” post or Dee Dee’s and many others “Annabeth has the education of a second grader, chill with the college plans, girlie” stance) and you have people insulting you, making callout posts, unfollowing and blocking you (based on only that? Okay, honey), making aggressive counter-posts, etc. in a minute. If you respond with “It’s a joke, it’s not real” you have a 50/50 chance of either getting blown off or embarrassing them so that they apologize for once.

This isn’t just about jokes. You can make a headcanon that’s not the cozy cute convenient mainstream saga and people would react the same way. Or art piece (no, not including the whole Tannabeth Blackchase shtick done by Viria and others) or fanfics.

People project so much onto the unfinished canvas that is Annabeth Chase that any form of negative sentiment as little as someone not liking her to straight up criticism, regardless of how tiny it may be, seems like an affront. Like an invitation to a fight. Like an insult to them, their character, everything they believe in. Let me state something:

You are NOT Annabeth Chase. Annabeth Chase IS NOT you. Annabeth Chase is NOT real. Her feeling cannot be hurt. Someone criticizing, disliking, joking about her or even insulting her will not bother her. Someone making a statement about her is not an insult to YOU.

Let me repeat that:

Annabeth Chase isn’t real. Annabeth Chase isn’t you.

So think a little before you act? I get it when you’re a kid and new to fandoms or haven’t been up with fan cultures in the past and are back in the scene. But if you’re in your late teens or even older as an adult and you’re unable to understand that you aren’t what you like – you aren’t the extension of a fictional character – I feel incredibly sorry for you. Because that’s just incredibly sad. Someone disliking something you like isn’t an attack of your character. It shows you that you are you and the other person is a human just like you. That they just have different taste. Disliking something you like isn’t a crime, you know? But me feeling sorry for the way some of y’all act won’t mean that that’s even remotely okay. Especially if you’re no longer in the intended audience for PJO age wise and should know better.

This isn’t a “white stans” only thing. I’ve seen and witnessed firsthand how people of color, mainly women of color, act the same or not even worse when it comes to her character. People have projected their problems and real-life occurring events into her character (I’m sure that she isn’t the only character nor that this is the only fandom where this is happening) and in some cases like I’ve said cannot separate their own personality from the fictional world. Fights with woc happened because of Annabeth fucking Chase. So many things have happened in the fandom the past few months, mostly due to people being forced staying at home because of the quarantine but I’d say it’s 10% on quarantine and 90% on people for acting up like this.

So here’s a little story: There was the act of Riordan blowing the fandom up because of his own stupidity and being unable to apologize for his mischaracterization and lack of research (the whole Piper fiasco) back in June (?) and admits the upset fandom, people on Twitter, Tumblr and Discord legit thought that none of that mattered and that the outcry was destroying Annabeth Chase’s birthday. That’s right. People thought that Annabeth Chase’s non-existing birthday because she’s a fictional character had a higher priority than the rupture and prevalent racism in the fandom. Okay. This isn’t a great look, Annabeth stans. And this of course pissed a lot of people off. I made a post about it and someone not only berated three other people on said post but no, we had a mighty argument which had disrupted many friendships in our circle which haven’t recovered until this very day. We both had our parts in it and no one is innocent. But the cause of this still remains Annabeth Chase or how people prioritize her non-existing well-being. Anyway. I’m getting agitated just thinking about it.

Let’s go back to the characterization thing with Annabeth. Let me remind you:

Annabeth Chase is an asshole. There I’ve said it in a post ages ago (too lazy to look it up, sorry) and I’ll say it again. And that’s not me insulting her. That’s me actually loving that about her. Annabeth is one of the very few unapologetic female characters that really showed all young readers across the world that you can be a girl, a badass, smart, strong, standing up for yourself and what you believe in. You don’t have to be nice. You don’t have to hide your feelings. You don’t need a man in all cases but it’s also okay to accept help and defeat.

A large reason why I think she’s an incredibly important character in children’s literature/YA because many other novels (mostly (sadly)) have the “Oh, I’m a white skinny dark-haired girl that likes unconventional things like READING. I’m not like the other girls, that take care of themselves and pamper themselves by enjoying shopping and wearing make-up. No, I’d rather be one of the boys but a sweet cute little boy and not the jock fuck that drank vodka shots out of a filthy shoe once. Despite me calling myself hideous every man in a 10-kilometer radius falls in love with me and tells me I’m oh so sexy and by the way I’m only 16 years old” shit going on for no goddamn reason.

Yes, I do blame Twilight for this mostly in recent years, but this trope isn’t by any means knew. Pretty sure that you could even use classics as Pride and Prejudice and dissect them in the same manner (Bold statement: Lizzy Bennet is the OG Bella Swan. There. Go fight somewhere in the corner, people). The new wave of YA focuses on girls belittling themselves and only starting to believe in themselves because someone else (mostly the male love interest) tells them they’re worth it. And these books hit the mainstream because they’re incredibly bland and picture perfect white.

With Annabeth it’s different. She shows up for the job and is done with it. (Brie Larson would probably be the perfect in real life version of her. You either like or dislike her. Or you really don’t care). That is what is so refreshing about her. Her unapologetic nature. Can it be off-putting? Yes. Is it annoying? Yes! Hell, every time I read The Lightning Thief, I want to rip her goddamn head off. And it’s just so well written. Her shift from mistrusting Percy but secretly still believing in him to her opening up. Wow, Riordan did something right there.

Annabeth Chase isn’t a young character. She has existed along with PJO for 15 years. She’s on her way to the second decade. I’m pretty sure that with the success of Percy Jackson (and Harry Potter) many lives have been warped and shaped.

But when I say the problem lies mostly in the fandom, it doesn’t mean that Riordan’s completely innocent. The only problem that I have with Annabeth lies not truly with her but the fact that Riordan is only able to produce three variations of female characters:

The sweetheart (Hazel, Silena, Calypso, Hestia)

The strong feminist (Annabeth, Piper, Thalia, Reyna, Artemis)

The bitch (Drew, nearly every female goddess in the goddamn Riordanverse next to every female monster)

And these female characters only know three endings:

End up married with a mortgage, three kids, two dogs and a cat somewhere in Connecticut by the age of twelve

Get dumped into the hunt

Chill on Mount Olympus and only come down to be a nuisance and/or give a cryptic message before going back and doing a godly rave party or something

We know Annabeth as the badass strong female first (or the bitchy character we’re supposed to actually like. Choose your approach), the blueprint so to speak, so some of the other characters feel almost pale in comparison and almost not needed? Doesn’t mean that other characters can’t behave similarly, but it feels kind of redundant especially if their character arcs end in a rather anticlimactic way (Thalia, Reyna). The new additions are the much needed woc as the main story with PJO was inherently white (anyway stan black!Percy and Grover, folks). So it’s not to bash on the new characters, it’s more Riordan’s fault more than anything.

Since Riordan only knows three female character arcs it feels like he tried to copy the formula several ways with different nuances. Some more or less successful. This is where fandom actually comes in handy and helps create more distinguished and fleshed out characters in form of headcanons or fanfiction.

But even in these cases people still make it about Annabeth when it’s time for characters of colors to shine. Remember that whole spiel and discussion that broke out when people (Kal, diver-up, Caitlyn, Bee, reynaisalesbian, etc.) joked about or criticized that Annabeth thinks that she’s having it harder because she’s a blonde? In front of Hazel and Piper? If she would’ve been a real person that’s an invitation for getting decked. And then all hell broke loose because Annabeth stans couldn’t accept the fact that in the real world and/or in fictional worlds the woc/coc have it harder? That the white woman wasn’t the victim that needed the coddling? Yeah, that was mad pathetic.

I hope you people get my point?

Well fuck. I wrote so many things and have the feeling I’ve said nothing. Anyway, I hope I made sense. This is way too long.

TLDR: Chill about Annabeth please. She’s an important character but that doesn’t mean that everyone has to like her, regardless of being a character in the books or a reader/fan of PJO in real life. She isn’t nice or a sweetheart all the time. She also isn’t the monstrous asshole that some try to make out of her.

Peace out.

#Mel answers #pjo #percy jackson #Annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #Percabeth #pjo Meta #Heroes of olympus #hoo #trials of apollo #toa #hazel levesque #piper mclean #reyna avila ramirez arellano #rachel elizabeth dare #pjo fandom #coc #rick riordan #riordanverse

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marvel-ing-at-it-all · 3 years

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Yachi's Ball

(Yachi x platonic!Karasuno VB team)

This was a headcanon that spiraled out of control so now its a fic I guess. I wrote it at like 1-2am, its not really proof-read. angst to fluff I guess? Obviously I would never want this to happen to my girl Yachi, but I had this idea and I thought it was kinda wholesome so... here you go, enjoy!

So let's say theres like a school dance or event going on and Yachi happens to have a crush on someone in one of her classes. She feels so lucky and happy when they ask her to go with them, she is overjoyed at practice talking to Kiyoko about it, the team overhearing, is happy she's happy. She and Kiyoko plan to go shopping for their dresses and excitedly plan for the magical night.

The night of the dance rolls around, her date told her they'd meet her there, so nervously she enters the crowded school gym. She had arrived with Kiyoko after she had helped her get ready, they both "look like a million bucks" according to Tanaka and Noya who almost too quickly upon Kiyoko's arrival stole her away to dance...it was almost as if they were waiting at the entrance for her arrival...

ANYWAY. Yachi is quick to assure Kiyoko that she can go have fun with the boys and that her date would be there soon, it had only been 10 minutes past their agreed meeting time, they were probably just running a little late. So Yachi waits, lingering near the entrance nursing a cup of punch as 10 minutes go by, then 20, then 30. As time seems to drag on and no messages come from her supposed date she starts feeling frustrated. Frustrated with how optimistically happy she was when they had asked her, frustrated by how much time she spent talking about how much she looking forward to tonight, frustrated with how much money she put into her outfit, how much time she took to do her hair and makeup, with how she had taken up Kiyokos time to help her, and of course how frustrated she was with her date. She's an understanding person, if something came up she would have understood, but not a single text was exchanged and she just felt so dumb about the whole thing.

She'd lost Kiyoko and the two rambunctious 2nd years over 40 minutes ago. In the crowd of bodies moving around her short stature and anxious nature did not help her efforts to look around for a familiar face, even with the damn heels that had been nothing but cruel to her feet. Not wanting to call her mother to come pick her up she decided to become a wallflower, finding a nice spot to lay low. She didn't want to cry, but she felt as if she were on the verge of tears, embarrassed by the whole situation, head lowered, tightly clenching her near empty cup of second refill punch by her side.

It's only then, when she is about to make a break for some fresh air outside, or an empty classroom, or maybe the volleyball gym, or literally anywhere but the cursed dance that she notices many sets of mens dress shoes appear on the floor she was so intently staring at. As she looks up there the boys volleyball team stands, dressed in their best formal wear, a certain Shōyō Hinata stands right in front of her, a hand extended towards her. "Can we have this dance?" he asks with the same determination and enthusiastic tone he has when it come to the sport he loves so much. She looks around the group, all the boys looking at her expectantly, some with sympathetic faces, others with bright smiles, and some somewhere in between. However, those faces turn to frowns as she lets the tears fall. She is quickly pulled in for a hug by Kiyoko, but as the boys begin to awkwardly apologize, she wipes them away and expresses her gratitude for the sweet boys who have tried so hard to bring a smile back to her face after seeing her standing dejectedly on a wall.

Claiming this was the sweetest thing anyones ever done for her, she smiles through the remaining (happy) tears, going in for a large group hug. The boys gladly huddle around her, when they release from a hug she thanks them again, explaining her frustrations which had lead them to this point. There are exchanges of threats and trash talk about her so called date, most notably the "piece of shit" from Kageyama and a "looks like I'll be having a little chart with someone" from Daichi. Tanaka and Noya reiterate enthusiastically that she looks so pretty, Sugawara laughs as he gives her a little twirl, showing her off. She giggles as well before stopping in front of a flustered Yamaguchi who manages to stumble out a sincere "You look beautiful Yachi-san", she flushes deeply at the compliment and thanks him. She is now smiling brightly, looking around, happy she has such great friends, when Hinata prompts again, "Now, how about that dance?". She takes his hand and exclaims, "lets go have fun, I did't get all dolled up for nothing" she jokes. With that she, Kiyoko, and the gentlemen of the boys volleyball team take to the dance floor! They dance in a group having a fun time, some (*cough* the first years *cough*) offer her solo dances when slower songs arrive, graciously accepting she dances the night away.

Her trash date isn't even on her mind, she's just happy she had such a good time with the boys who she takes care of at practice taking care of her for a night. When the dance comes to a close the group decides to go out for some late night, trash food. Tsuki offering to carry her heels as they walk through the grass outside. After their bellies are filled with food and exhaustion takes over they call it a night, but not before more thank you's and hugs are exchanged.

By the end of the night many photos and videos were taken and posted on Instagram, captions ranging from "happy I could make you smile" to a more ballsy "their loss". Yachi herself posts a series of photos, the first being a group photo of her and the boys, captioning it something along the lines of "the Karasuno Boys Volleyball team, sure know how to make a girl feel special! Very grateful to call you all my friends 🥰". Other photos are of her and Kiyoko, some solo shots of her (not pictured the boys hyping her up), a first year group photo, some duo shots, and lets not forget the pic of everyone in their formal wear chowing down on greasy fries, burgers, and milkshakes!

Needless to say when her "date" sees the post they know they missed out. Hitoka Yachi is ✨t h a t ✨girl and now everyone knows it.

I hope you all enjoyed, I know I haven't been putting out much original content, but every now and then I have some sparks of inspiration and time lol. I've been taking some summer classes, but my last one should finish up soon so I might be able to put out some more content for you guys ( I say that like a whole bunch of people read my shit and follow me lol) anyway, as always feel free to reblog, please leave a comment or like if you know, you liked it lol. Even though I don’t consider myself a serious writer I appreciate the validation 😂

also tagging my mutual, @aka-ashi-keiji (mwahahaha more fluff!)

<3 marveling

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #yachi hitoka #yachi hcs #yachi fluff #kiyoko shimizu #hinata shoyo #kegayama tobio #hq tsukishima #yamaguchi #yachi x hinata #yachi x yamaguchi #haikyuu fic #haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #marvelings fics #idk how to tag this

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highladyluck · 3 years

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Mat/Tuon Romance Fic Rec List

April 22nd is apparently Mat and Tuon's anniversary, so in honor of that, here's a rec list of my favorite Mat/Tuon romance fics! Links are in the titles.

Drawn by Ersatz Rating: K, Length: 2,417 words (Oneshot) Set during CoT. Features: Mutual petulance! An instance of that classic trope where one character shows another the proper way to shoot a bow! & some really excellent description! Fair warning that this was written before KoD came out and so the characterization might be a little unorthodox, but this is still so close to my heart, I couldn't leave it off.

A Roll of the Dice by Millia Rating: K+, Length: 1,519 words (Oneshot) This is in Tuon's POV, and you will not be disappointed by the author's take on this missing scene from KoD: "But she had kissed him just before they started out that evening. Only once, and said not to be greedy when he attempted a second." I absolutely love the central metaphor, too.

The View by Min Daae (@veliseraptor) Rating: K+, Length: 14,369 words (Series of unconnected oneshots) These are mostly little vignettes, all written before TGS came out, so there are no intentional spoilers past KoD although some are set post-canon. If you want more of a short story, start with Game, Set, and Match (chapter 16.) I reread these recently and they really hold up! I love the little glimpses you get into Mat and Tuon's thought processes.

Secret Smiles by PsychoLeopard Rating: T, Length: 46,458 words (Series) An absolute classic of the Mat/Tuon fic universe, this follows CoT and KoD from Tuon's POV. If you like the pairing, I think it's a must-read. It's one of those ideas that was absolutely begging to be written and so at least two people answered the call, but this one is finished and stellar.

blame by mizzymouse Rating: E, Length: 15,320 words (Series of connected oneshots) Deals with the non-linear healing process for Mat's many, many traumas. It's not tagged as romance, but it has some very good Mat/Tuon scenes, and definitely deals with their relationship. I think of this as the post-canon counterpart to Secret Smiles; not so much in tone or content, but in terms of 'this kind of Mat/Tuon fic was begging to be written and the author did a great job'.

No Daughter of Mine by Blue Dragon Rating: K+, Length: 5,184 words (Oneshot) This isn't precisely a romance fic, but it still tells a love story (really, several.) It is the best 'Mat's child can channel' fic I've ever read, and I've read a lot. It covers all the bases, throws in a bunch of original characters I want to see more of, and to top it off, Mat's voice is flawless.

It's probably bad taste to rec your own fic, so I'll just note that I'm Zorpisuttle on AO3 and I have also written Mat/Tuon; here's a list filtered by the pairing + "Romance" tag.

#wheel of time #mat/tuon #mat cauthon #matrim cauthon #tuon paendrag #tuon athaem kore paendrag #fortuona paendrag #fortuona athaem devi paendrag #problematic fave tuon #knotai #mat x tuon #mattuon #wheel of time fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic recs #gonna slap all the tags on here so people can find this post

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linkspooky · 3 years

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Series I’m Reading in 2021

My favorite manga all come from Shonen Jump. A lot of series ended last year, and a lot of new series started, so I thought I’d do a post with a quick recap of all the manga I’m currently keeping up with in jump, and my favorite things about them.

My Hero Academia - My two favorite manga are both reaching the ends of their biggest arcs yet, and that’s been exciting but also exhausting to read week from week.

MHA’s strength lies in its ideas and the scope of its ambitions. There’s few stories in shonen jump that work with such broad ideas, in trying to define hero and villain and giving the villains so much depth that the main character’s ultimate foil Shigaraki Tomura, feels more like a deuteragonist to the story, a second protagonist for the other side of the story rather than an antagonist.

It’s a creative story, with neat little ideas. Giving an entire arc to the villains was taking an actual risk. From a story that began wrapped entirely around Deku’s perspective, the story has evolved to balance the perspective of multiple different characters who all come into conflict with each other. The best part of the war arc is that there’s no real good guys in a story with clear and distinct entities that label themselves “heroes’ and “villains.” The heroes are allowed to have impure motives, and do impure deeds. The villains are allowed to have noble motivations, and genuinely care for one another. This is all good because it’s not boring. A boring, simple, story where good defeats evil has been told a hundred times, My Hero Academia shines the brightest when it tries to do something different.

Jujutsu Kaisen - If MHA’s strength lies in creativity, then JJK’s is in technical execution. If you compare the first 27 chapters of MHA and JJK just in the way that they develop the stakes, story, and ideals, JJK accomplishes a lot more in the same time.

I’m not saying JJK is better, just that it tells its story better in some ways. MHA is in the middle of a tournament arc, whereas in JJK we see the first major emotional blow of the story. A character which was set up to be saved, and who everyone expected to be saved is instead killed and this has permanent ramifications for both Yuji’s development and the threat the villain presents.

That’s why the Shibuya Arc has so much impact , despite only having 100 chapters of build up before it. Jujutsu Kaisen introduces a lot of characters, and then quickly develops them and the ideas that surround that character in a way that it feels like every time they’re on screen they are growing and changing in a way. It’s because things are continually changing in the story all the time, that every single time the story hits you it feels like a gut punch. There’s no one safe, no status quo, just a world that you know is going to change by the end of the story. Jujutsu Kaisen is good. Everyone should read Jujutsu Kaisen.

Mission: Yozakura Family - Katekyo Hitman Reborn used to be one of my favorite manga in shonen jump, which gave me a weakness for manga with big mafia families where everry single character has one special quirky and eccentric power.

Yozakura Family is also reaching a similiar pont that Reborn did, where after a year of publication it’s not doing well enough as a weekly gag manga and is starting to focus to a more serious with an overarching plot, and a fighter. The main female and main male protagonist have a relationship that actually develops which makes me soft for the two of them because I want to see the story improve and see where the author wants to take them.

Our Blood Oath - There’s been a trend towards horror series in the recent newcomers in jump, which is great because I am all about horror. A series full of vampires using their blood to cut each other up is an easy sell to me.

Stories in jump generally don’t tend to develop until they’ve lasted an entire year, but I like a lot of things that Our Blood Oath has started with. I love the series focus on adopted family, and the relationship between the two brothers. The main character genuinely acts like a bratty younger brother, and wields unlimited power exactly like a twelve year old swinging around a blood scythe would. Which is to say, very badly.

Phantom Seer - Another newcomer series that leaves a strong impression. The things that the series has going for it so far is a really strong main character, who’s a pretty far deviation from the standard shonen protagonist of “I want to save everyone.” Rather than wnating to be the strongest, or wanting to be a hero, he just wants a normal life, and instead gets dragged into heroics by the good intentions of the people he’s surrounded by.

The art is also incredibly strong for this series. I’m glad the artist got another chance to draw a shonen junmp series because their art really shines in both the character designs, and the curse designs. There’s incredibly unique monster designs that are equally parts horrifying and fascinating even though most of them only stick around for one chapter.

Undead Unluck - Most Shonen Manga either figure out right away what the central conflict is, other manga never figure it out. Undead Unluck is like “fuck it, let’s kill god.”

Undead Unluck has a bad start, and normally I would never say “keep reading and give it a chance” if it gives you a negative first impression, but Undead Unluck quickly fixes a lot of mistakes in the first chapter. Andy at first says some creepy things towards the main character, but the author seemed to learn their lesson and made a lot of changes later on to make their relationship into a healthy one of consent and mutual affection.

The main characters and the story premise are what sell this one. A bunch of supernatural beings going out of their way to do the impossible and kill god. The plot is almost pure chaos, but I believe the two main characters are strong enough that you want to follow them all the way through it.

Dr. Stone - The best part of Dr. Stone is trying to unravel the mystery of the premise, how the world became turned to stone. Senku is a compelling protagonist because he’s constantly trying to solve the mystery around him, the same way the audience is.

Senku is a strong character, and there are other interesting ones like Gen, however sometimes the series while being a fun adventure the characters don’t really develop that much. However, there’s nothing better for a protagonist than a good antagonist. The best part of the america arc so far has been the introduction of an antagonist and foil to Senku. Instead of trying to rule through strength. Dr. Xeno views everything as a problem to be solved through science like Senku. He just also sees Science as a tool to rule others, unlike the fairly anarchistic Senku who doesn’t care for leadership.

Some of the most interesting charactermoments for Senku lies in his interactions, his similiarities and differences with Dr. Xeno, and the fact that they’re now forced to cooperate while Senku is technically holding Dr. Xeno hostage is an interesting building tension between these two. I’m following this series for two reasons, one I’m interested in how the mystery will be solved, and two I wonder what kind of person that Senku will become when he completes his goal of restoring humanity. Senku is the main draw of the series with his weird charisma, and his unique interest in science above everything else, and I think there’s still a lot of untapped potential to mine in his character.

#shonen jump #jujutsu kaisen #my hero academia #mission yozakura family #our blood oath #phantom seer #undead unluck #dr. stone #spooky speaks

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a-lil-perspective · 3 years

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I have been silent for some time now. I have refrained from exhibiting any plaguing thoughts that might warrant me the label of “that person”, but I’m at the point where I’ve had my fill.

Ramble under the cut so as to not... offend or inconvenience anyone. There’s absolutely no obligation to read this. It’s Tumblr. You can block/ignore me. The option to do so is readily accessible.

I’ve been a Bad Batch fan since day one. While I didn’t start creating that very same day, it was relatively close. Point being, I’m a long-time dedicated fan. As the premiere to their series draws closer, I feel like there is going to be a great shift, rift here. That being said, I figured now is as good a time as any to make this post.

I love those boys beyond words. They’ve been the one constant in my life amidst a rapid and debilitating change. I love getting to give them life, even if my interpretations aren’t the most accurate.

Yes, I am a new Writer and yes, I am new to Tumblr, as I am sure both of those things are painfully apparent.

I get that it is impossible to please everyone. It’s something I’m learning more and more with each passing day. It’s something that gets harder to swallow, even more so.

I’d like to say that being here has been a largely positive experience, with all of these great connections and opportunities. But honestly? It’s been more isolating than anything. I’ve actually never felt more isolated than since I joined a year ago.

As a content creator or even just a general blogger, I don’t ask for much. I don’t ask for anything, in fact. I consider myself very low maintenance. I don’t demand/harass/play the martyr for reblogs. I have never mentioned it once, and never will. Some people on here are so damn passive-aggressive about it, and quite frankly, it’s embarrassing. It’s very stigmatizing. While I completely understand the frustration surrounding the like-to-reblog ratio, I think it’s neither tasteful nor reputable to threaten to call people out for not reblogging your fics. I wish I could say I was joking on that one. But I’ve seen it profoundly. Not cool.

And yet, no one says anything or raises any concern there.

Yet I make metas, harmless rambles, and I get shot down? Seriously?

—I need to “chill”, it’s “overkill”, I’m “overthinking”. I and my content are apparently just so damn arduous to interact with.

If you don’t like me, please just move on. There are plenty of other Bad Batch creators for you to enjoy. You know that. My work is absolutely not the final say, and I’ve never claimed it to be.

What is so wrong, with sharing one’s thoughts? Why do people inherently have a problem with other’s creative efforts? I see it time over again. Why do I feel like if I was making a bunch of smutty posts it wouldn’t be as much of a problem, that it in fact would be infinitely more welcome? (Absolutely NO shade to people who create smut, okay? I’ve made my own share. I admire those bold enough to do so regularly. I absolutely love them. Please teach me your ways).

This ramble really has nothing to do with the most recent event regarding my contributions. Rather, it’s a culmination of experiences over the past several months that have brewed and festered to the point where I can no longer keep downplaying it.

Social media, at its core, is one big popularity contest. It always has been, it always will be. But I’m not here to win. That’s never been my objective. That’s not what I’m about. Surprise (or not), I am not a popular blog. Not by a long shot. I’ll never claim otherwise.

I don’t ask people to view/interact with my content, I’m not an activist, I can’t even fathom exuding that kind of confidence. Even though I, admittedly, crave it. I suspect I crave interaction as much as the next creator. It’s a nice feeling. Yet there’s never been any obligation for it, especially with me, so I don’t understand what the problem is. As I’ve said, there are ample ways for you to block/avoid me. It’s the internet. In this day and age, there’s no excuse for viewing anything you don’t want to.

I came here in the hopes of finding like-minded individuals, uplifting and interacting, and exercising some otherwise stunted creativity.

All Tumblr as taught me is that creating and contributing is largely a thankless, empty endeavor. You can give and give and give and be reduced to nothing. There’s a profound imbalance between “giving” and “receiving”, and in regards to both ends of the scale, it’s became apparent to me that if you don’t cater heavily and in unreasonable degrees or get “noticed” by a popular blog, you get nothing, and your efforts are null and void.

Truthfully? I constantly feel like I walk on eggshells here, and it’s all I can do to not crack under the pressure, even though it’s my blog and my headspace. I should feel comfortable and free to express myself here, and I don’t, and I’m unsure of how to achieve that sense of stability. To be completely honestly I feel like a constant bother and a nuisance. When I post, I literally feel like there is a collective eye-roll that comes with people receiving a notification from my blog. Even though I know, rationally, that can’t be true, that’s an absurd level of thinking. I can’t say I can pinpoint exactly where it stems from.

But regardless: I hardly ever talk about/create the things I actually want. I only recently just got ballsy enough to share some metas, and we all know how well that’s going. I try not to have smut out of respect for my asexual/minor mutuals, even though the tag to blacklist is very much an option. I try not to bring up conflicting topics, Tumblr, political, or otherwise, even though with proper tagging I could. But I try not to even bring that into existence. Even though it’s my right to, I don’t.

I don’t actually feel like I fit into any narrative here, especially in the Bad Batch fandom; even though we are all basically the same steadfast group of bloggers. We all know who we are. We all coexist in the same space. It’s nearly impossible to be unaware of each other, at this point.

And yet, I’m not in a bunch of Discord servers or backed by a team of beta readers and all that jazz. It’s basically just me talking to myself out here. It’s very isolating.

Part of that—most of it—is my own crippling social anxiety, and the genuine belief that I don’t deserve to be in the same space/servers as all of these brilliant creators. Because I’m just me, and there’s not a whole lot of value there. With that mindset, it’s hard to actually feel like I belong anywhere. I know that is a mindset I have to conquer alone.

My excitement over my creations has largely dwindled into nothing. I seldom ever bounce my ideas off of others—another issue that stems from the fear of presenting as a burden—and even though I try to write for myself, even that fire has pretty much died out. I’m not even sure how or if I could even reignite it, at this point. It’s really quite sad. It makes me very sad, actually. All I wanted was to safely ramble, project all my thoughts and creativity that has otherwise been repressed through prolonged detrimental circumstances.

More than anything, I wanted to find and hold onto something that makes me feel useful, meaningful, happy. More and more I wonder if that’s even possible. I don’t think it is, not here. I often wonder if joining and sharing on Tumblr was a horrible mistake. I miss the innocent joy of when I first started creating. It was so simple. I’m trying to find that simplicity again.

But I’m burned out. I’m running on fumes. I have been for some time.

At this point it goes beyond just “taking a break” from Tumblr. It’s the fact that it all feels like this meaningless, monotonous cycle. I wonder every day if I am an isolated case in experiencing these emotions.

And yet, come tomorrow I will still be here, business as usual.

I’m not asking for sympathy or playing the victim or attacking anyone or trying to guilt-trip into more interaction. I am very aware of my shortcomings and incorrect mindsets. I’m just trying to make sense of it all. I feel very disconnected from everyone here and it’s lonely. This took a lot for me to share. I will most likely delete this because anxiety will eat me up, as it does with everything I post. Yes, everything.

#personal #lil rambles

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beaubokuto · 3 years

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━ amnesia

pairing: shoto todoroki x f!reader

genre: angst

summary: shoto todoroki didn’t understand what went wrong when you broke up with him. he didn’t understand when you held his hand as you said goodbye. and he didn’t understand why you left him completely.

a/n: inspired by amnesia by 5 seconds of summer. also kind of inspired by a tik tok by @ leannaeileen ;D. i live for bakugou and todoroki friendship SO i added some of that in here hehe

tags: angst, swearing, suggestive humor, post break up, friends to lovers to strangers, sad, breaking up, pining, mutual pining, comfort, some fluff, characters are aged up, pro hero todoroki and pro hero reader, reader has an undescribed quirk, smut, dom!todoroki and sub!reader, rough smut, size kink

unedited

His eyes dart back and forth. He is most definitely seeing things correctly, but he wants confirmation. He needs confirmation.

Your eyes find his easily. The eyes which he has not seen in years.

His name slips off of your tongue with hidden nostalgia. He barely has time to process.

You look more beautiful now than you did when you left. Your hair is shorter, your skin clear.

You are the epitome of stunning.

Literally. He can’t move.

You weed your way through the human traffic of the mid afternoon streets to meet him. He greets you with a fake smile, though he quickly feels it turn into a real one. One he once only reserved for you.

“I cannot believe that I am meeting you in the streets, of all places.” You tell him once you are close enough. “I was on my way to meet some of the boys for lunch and catch up.”

Some of the boys. You meant Deku and Bakugou, he is sure.

Why didn’t they invite him?

“You look amazing.” Todoroki tells you before he can stop himself.

You take the compliment. “I try. You look good, too. But you’ve always looked good.”

He tries not to take it to heart despite the aching the casual conversation brings.

He tries not to think of you telling him that you loved him. He tries not to think about the ring that sits in his bedside table that he can’t seem to get rid of. He tries not to think of your lips on his.

He tries not to think about how you broke his heart with a few simple words and a plane ticket.

“This is awkward.” He finally says.

Your smile falters, but you nod nonetheless. “It is a bit awkward talking to strangers, huh?”

You were shaking as you grabbed his hand, connecting your skin for the last time. You traced your fingers over his.

You were hoping for a spark. A shiver of connection in that moment of weakness. And when you didn’t, you let go.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t do it anymore.” You told your boyfriend of years.

You expected him to question your reasoning. You expected an argument, a fight. You expected him to want you to stay. For him to ask you to stay.

But he didn’t.

Shoto Todoroki only stared at where your hands were just connected in his and said, “okay.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall for him.

You first met the boy during his years at UA. You weren’t in his class, but you ran into each other often. Whether it was in the hallway, or at lunch, it felt as though you came into contact with him more often than not.

“Are you stalking me?” You joked with him one day as you walked beside him towards the lunch hall.

Shoto Todoroki seemed to fluster for a minute, “No, no. No. We are just... going to the same place. At the same time.”

You giggled and nudged him with your shoulder. He wasn’t even knocked off of his balance a little bit.

“It was a joke, Todoroki.” You took your eyes off of him in favor of the hallway in front of you. “And since you aren’t stalking me, wanna sit with me at lunch?”

He started to question how you knew his name, but decided against it. Shrugging his shoulders and shoving his hands into his pockets, he said, “Yes, I’ll sit with you.”

The friendship blossomed slowly.

It was a helicopter leaf falling from the tallest tree, full of twists and turns and maybes and possibilities. It was a stone being skipped across a calm lake, creating ripples through the water and destroying the once stability in the most beautiful way possible.

It was watching a movie that you couldn’t take your eyes off of, no matter how desperately you needed to pee. It was reading a book that you couldn’t put down because you needed to know how it ended before going to sleep.

It was a cherry blossom in the spring, only to disappear come fall.

Because falling in love is falling out of a friendship.

“C’mon, Todo!” You begged, gripping his arm in an attempt to bring him with you. “Movie night! Everyone is going!”

He didn’t budge. He was effortlessly standing against your feeble attempt, hands in pockets and eyes on yours.

“What did I say about calling me that?” He asked.

You gave up and looked at him. “Fine! I promise that I will never call you Todo ever again if you come to movie night.”

There was a pause.

“Liar.”

And then a shrug.

“But fine. I’ll come.”

You first discovered that you were starting to fall for the boy during the winter.

You always thought that winter was the most beautiful time of year. Snow glittered the ground and casted the sky in bright whites and greys, lights for the holidays decked halls (or whatever the song says).

And one afternoon, you found Shoto sitting alone.

He was sitting at a desk in one of the empty classrooms, staring out of the window, eyes watching the snow fall from the sky to the gound below. You found yourself at the doorway.

Most of the others were gone for the holidays. It was winter break, after all.

“Please don’t just stare.” Todoroki interrupted the silence.

“Sorry.”

He didn’t lift his head as you walked to him, placing yourself in the seat in front of him.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing in particular.” He said. You knew that there was something going on in his mind, but you didn’t push it.

He finally glanced at you.

And that was your moment of realization. It was no drastic touch of fireworks, or static electricity that conducted at his touch. It was no bright flash of memories as your heart pounded.

It was the reflection in his eyes as he looked at you. You could see yourself in them, and that was the epiphany. The look of someone in love, and it was you.

You decided to ignore your realized feelings.

The love for him would remain to yourself. Mainly for the sake of friendship, but slightly because you knew that he did not feel the same way.

He realized that he felt for you very slowly. He didn’t know that it was love, at first.

He just knew that he felt very protective of you and he had never felt that with anyone before. He felt good with you by his side.

He felt his chest flutter when you could ask him about his day; he felt his hands shake at his sides when you would grab his upper arm when you laughed.

Todoroki hadn’t noticed that he was in love with you until Deku pointed it out. It was two days after returning from winter break, and they were sitting in the dorms.

Izuku Midoriya was Shoto Todoroki’s self proclaimed best friend. Although Shoto was incredibly individualistic and would rather sit by himself than hold a long discussion, he didn’t mind a friend.

“Are you going to tell her that you’re in love with her?”

Shoto turned to him, confusion masking his features. “What do you mean?”

Deku giggled. He tilted his head. “You’re so funny.”

“I wasn’t making a joke.”

Deku laughed again. This time he turned to his friend with a slight smirk, a quip on the edge of his lips. “You’re in love with her. We talk about it all the time! You are there most of the time when we do.”

“Oh.” Oh.

You were laughing, tears close to spilling over your cheeks. Shoto even had a small smile.

Deku and Bakugou had just gotten into (another) argument. It was about something stupid, as it was more often than not. It was only a week into spring and you didn’t realize how accustomed you had gotten used to being in the dorms with only Shoto as company.

Katsuki Bakugou ended up calling Deku a series of names, and ended the argument with a solid, “This is why you eat alone at lunch, you piece of shit cumrag!”

And that is was caused a series of laughter through the classroom. Classes hadn’t begun yet, so you were sitting next to Mina Ashido and Hitoshi Shinso along with Todoroki and Tenya Iida.

Sensai Aizawa interrupted with a simple opening of the door.

“Get to your respective classrooms.”

A bunch of you got up, some with small smiles and some with fear of being yelled at. You left, too, but not without mouthing a small “piece of shit cumrag?” to Todoroki.

He still hid a smile even after you were gone.

“I think you’re handsome.” You told him one afternoon.

He was in your dorm room. He spent a lot of time there, if he were to be honest. Sometimes Bakugou, or Mina, or Shinso or some other students he didn’t pay attention to would come in. You were good friends with Mina and Shinso from the other class, so Todoroki knew them by name at that point.

But that day it was just the two of you. You had a movie playing as background noise. You were sitting next to him on your bed, centimeters between touching.

It took him by surprise, causing him to look at you with a raised brow.

“Thanks.” He responded, cautious. “What made you say that?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I was just thinking it so I said it.”

Your relationship with him was ninety percent you flirting with him and laughing and touching him and one percent him rolling his eyes with a smile. Even before your realized feelings, you found yourself naturally flirting with the boy.

“Well, I think you are handsome too.”

You chuckled at his attempted joke and pushed his head with your hand.

When you first became friends, he was startled at your endless flirtations. He had never met someone who flirted openly the way you did.

He knew that you did it for the tension, that you liked to tease. You flirted with everyone. But he felt kind of... different when he watched you flirt with other people.

You had joked about “exploding” with Bakugou, flirtations effortlessly releasing from your lips when Todoroki felt the need to leave.

“It’s called jealousy, dumbass.” Bakugou told him.

Being in love with Shoto Todoroki was much like being in love with silence.

It was being in love with a quiet library. It was sitting alone at the beach with only him beside you, no words between you. It was a breeze through leaves with no animals around to hear.

It was rummaging through old boxes and finding books you used to read. It was the taste of vanilla ice cream.

You were the one who broke through the silence.

“Can’t I spar with anyone else?” Todoroki asked Sensai Aizawa. The students all turned their attention to him.

It was some random training day. Three classes came together to spar and practice their quirks against each other, randomly assigned by the teachers.

And when Aizawa said your name alongside Shoto Todoroki, you were excited. He, however, was not.

“No, your partner is picked.” Aizawa said. “Now get to it.”

“Sorry, but I will not be participating today.” Todoroki said as an announcement. “I would rather fail this than fight her. Thanks.”

You spun on your heels to face him. “You’re kidding.”

When he didn’t say anything, you stared him down. “Todo, it’s just sparring.”

“I don’t want to spar you.” He turned his attention back to the teachers. “Can I spar Deku? Or Bakugou? Someone more... powerful?”

You could not believe it. You chuckled humorlessly, causing some of the students to mutter under their breath to each other.

“Someone more powerful?” You crossed your arms. “C’mon, let’s fight. You want someone more powerful, you’ve clearly never witnessed me pissed off. C’mon.”

“No.”

You let out another chuckle and rolled your eyes. “No?”

“No.”

“Fine.” Aizawa shrugged. “Todoroki, you’re with Deku. Bakugou, calm down your new partner before she gets as angry as you.”

“No, sir.” You whipped your head back to the front. “I think I’m good too.”

You were livid. You had never felt that much anger and embarrassment erupt through your body. It started as a small irritation, but soon you were burning with the heat of anger.

Shoto Todoroki followed you.

“Hey, wait.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” You didn’t turn around as you stormed to your room.

He didn’t stop following you, turning through the corridors behind you. You might as well be steaming through the ears.

“Why are you so mad at me?”

“Because I’m in love with you!” You confessed, pure anger diminishing your filter. You couldn’t stop words from falling from your lips as you turned to him. “Because I’m in love with you. And it’s humiliating to basically be called weak by the guy you’re in love with in front of everyone. Because I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends. And that’s why I didn’t want to fight you.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Just fuck off, okay.”

No one had seen you for days following.

Most figured that you didn’t want to see your best friend, others made up stories of you leaving campus. None of them knew that you had confessed to said best friend and got nothing in response other than “we are friends”.

You were wallowing in self pity and anger turned sadness.

“If you’re going to drop out, do it.” Shinso said.

He was one of the people you didn’t mind still having around. He had no correlation to the two-toned boy you were avidly avoiding. And, to be honest from both sides, he liked to have someone who wasn’t scared to talk to him.

“I’m not dropping out. It’s been two days.” You threw a pillow at him. He caught it. “Two days is not a long time to get over the love of your life.”

You left your slump after another couple of days.

When you emerged from your pity party, you looked like garbage. You tried your best, you truly did, but you couldn’t get rid of the bags under your eyes and the exhaustion on your features.

You hadn’t even cried. You were just tired, and tired of being angry.

You managed to avoid Todoroki for a majority of the day, though you did manage to get stares. No one was subtle at UA.

Until lunch.

The second you entered the lunch room, you knew that you should walk right back out.

As soon as you walked in, your eyes found Todoroki’s. It didn’t take long. You always found your way to him.

You immediately looked away and sat next to Mina and Bakugou.

"You have to tell her now.”

They were all there: Deku, Bakugou, Kirishima, Uraraka, Iida, Tsu, Sero, Denki and Jiro. And all of them were staring at Shoto Todoroki.

“I...”

“No excuses.”

“You have to tell her.”

“Did you see her, idiot?”

“She looks miserable.”

“You gotta tell her.”

“This is peer pressure.” Todoroki stated.

“Yes.” Deku nodded. “But it’s the best kind.”

"Hi.”

Your step stuttered and you froze in your spot. You found him standing at your room door, hands clasped behind his back.

You couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been waiting for you to return to your room.

“Hi.”

“This is awkward.” He said.

“It is a bit awkward, huh?” You shifted on your heels.

“I wanted to tell you that I am sorry.” He said. You started to interrupt, but he stopped you, “Please don’t say anything until I’m finished. I am sorry. I should have just sparred you, it was not that big of a deal. I made it one.

“You are a big part of my life. You have always been a friend to me, and because of my recent adaptation with my quirk... I didn’t want to hurt you. That’s why I didn’t. Not because you aren’t strong, your quirk is not weak in the slightest, but because I was worried about accidentally hurting you.

“I should have told you that instead of just being dismissive. I realize that. I didn’t realize, though, that it would make you as upset as it did.

“And I also should have told you that I love you, too.”

You shook your head. He could have said a lot more, but you stopped listening. You had to face downward instead of looking him in the face.

“You’re shaking your head.”

“I’m sorry.” You held back a smile as you looked back to him. “It’s just... I wasn’t expecting you to tell me that you love me.”

“I didn’t realize it as quickly as I should have.”

“You could have taken a hundred years.” You reach for his wrists. “Thank you for your apology, I know that you had to be talked into it.”

His eyes flickered between yours. “You know me pretty well.”

“I know you better than most.”

The start of the relationship was the happiest you had ever been. You understood why people called it the “honeymoon phase”.

You were nothing but smiles, and everyone was surprised to see him smile and gleam at your presence too.

Neither of you were for public displays of affection, but one thing the both of you did like was holding hands. You liked the feeling of his fingers intertwined with his, and his warmth or coolness depending on which hand you found yourself holding (Yes, his quirk did that. It was kind of cool.)

He liked the feeling of your hand in his, too. He liked having your support, the structure of you holding onto him.

He also noticed how you didn’t flirt with anyone else anymore. You were still pretty outgoing and kind and funny, but you stopped your funny flirtations with the others. Not with him, though.

“Dang, my boyfriend’s looking sexy today.” You jokingly nudged him.

He knew that he looked the same as he did every day.

Shoto Todoroki rushed into your room with tears staining his cheeks.

You instantly shot up in your bed, staring wide eyed and fully awake despite being asleep minutes before. You didn’t need to know what time it was.

“Todo?”

He didn’t say anything as he just came over to you and planted his body next to yours. You didn’t say anything either as he curled into your body with his head on your chest.

You laid back down and took him down with you. You wrapped the covers around you both and ran your hands through his mixed hair.

You didn’t care about a boy being in your room in the midst of the night. You didn’t care about getting caught, or someone asking questions when he left in the morning.

You cared about your boyfriend’s tears that stained your shirt.

“Get some sleep, you’re okay.” You whispered to him and planted a kiss to his forehead.

That was one thing that Shoto loved about you.

You didn’t ask him questions, you didn’t push him to explain himself and his feelings to you. He was aware of his social constipation, and you didn’t force him to speak about things he didn’t want to.

It was the little things.

Kissing came naturally between you two.

The first kiss was nothing special, but it was the most special thing for the both of you. It was a goodnight kiss, one that he planted on your lips as if it were a second thought when in actuality it was something he had been considering since he woke up that morning.

It was a small peck on your lips, a second when everything seemed to fit perfectly together.

After that, the kisses were often in the absence of others. He would kiss you goodnight before going to his own room, or you would steal kisses between homework and study nights.

He found out that you liked to be kissed on the neck, so he did it more often. Every once in a while, he would sneak one while giving you a hug after lunch.

It was everything you asked for and more. The butterflies never left either of your stomachs every time your lips connected.

Growing up with Shoto Todoroki was full of love and light.

You watched as he grew into his powers. You watched as he grew stronger and lighter, watched as he slowly started to become confident in himself. You watched him become himself, finally.

And he watched you, too. Watched you grow alongside him, become a better person and hero. He watched as you became confident in him, too.

You grew together. You grew into individuals and a couple all at once.

It was the beauty of love: everything was all at once and not at all.

“You should move in with me.” Todoroki told you over dinner one night.

You were in a fancy restaurant, and it was a date that he planned. You thought that he might propose, you had an inclination that Deku had been hinting at it for the last couple of months.

“That was more of a statement than a question, Todo.” You took a sip of the expensive wine.

“More of an observation.”

You giggled and took his hands in yours. “Do you want me to move in with you? Or is this something one of the guys put into your head.”

“If I did everything they wanted me to, we would be married with five kids by now.” He joked. “But I am serious about you moving in.”

“Then fine.” You moved back in your chair. “I’ll move in with you.”

Growing apart was something unexpected and unfathomable until it happened.

It was slow, small things that made you notice the distance. The sleeping facing apart at night, the small pecks instead of passionate kisses. Saying “goodbye” more often than “I love you”.

It was different, to be in love as teenagers and to be in love as adults.

One of the first fights you ever had was a rough one. It started with an argument about safety, and then it spiraled into a fight about more than that.

You were yelling while he was frustrated. He rolled his eyes at your angry taunts, only egging you on. You couldn’t get your point across and neither could he.

“Can we just drop it?”

And that was the end of it. You didn’t bring up the fact that he said “that’s why I was in class 1-A and you weren’t” and he didn’t bring up the fact that you said that his “family trauma had nothing to do with you now”.

The next several days were full of tension and near silence.

In the midst of the distance between you two, he came home late one night with gloom drenched over him.

He didn’t say anything as he ran into your arms, and you took him in without a second thought.

“You’re home now, it’s okay.” You told him with your voice muffled against his chest.

You felt him nod against you. He grabbed you tighter and pulled you impossibly close to his body.

Neither of you thought about the tension from the previous fight. Because you were overwhelmed in love for each other.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offered. Your hand still found solitude in his hair.

Todoroki shook his head and brought himself back. He held his hands on your hips, maintaining his touch on you. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You placed your hands on his face, wiping away stray tears. “Some days are harder than others.”

He kissed you then. His lips matched with yours similar to how puzzle pieces line perfectly with each other. This kiss was soft and bound with his love for you, passion behind it and breaking through the cracks.

You and Todoroki had done a lot of things in the past. Turns out, he was pretty kinky, not that you complained. He had tied you up; you’ve been blindfolded and spanked. Name it and you two have probably tried it.

This time you could tell that there was something different, he kissed you with softness that was usually found only in aftercare.

You let him lead you to the bedroom, let him lay you on the bed. Your lips never left his for more than a second or two.

“Todo...”

“Shhh, don’t speak.” He planted kisses down your neck. He kissed to your colar and left the lightest kisses to your breasts.

Your back arched when he kissed your ribs, and you felt him smile as he kissed your stomach. His hand traced your thighs so lightly that he was nearly hovering.

“Let me use you for the night.” He looked back up to you with pleading eyes. “Please.”

You didn’t think twice, you just nodded. You had done it before, and if you were honest you didn’t mind. That was all he needed to pull his hands down, taking his underwear with it.

His size never ceased to make you nervous and mouth water all at once. Since high school, Todoroki became bigger in stature. He was buff, tall, and just overall... large. And his cock was not much different.

His fingers rubbed you only twice before he lined himself up.

On instinct, you put your hand against his thigh in efforts to keep him out. He looked down at you. You brought your hand back, giving him the go ahead.

You weren’t wet enough to take him, but he bottomed out either way. The pain made you ache and your back arch again.

“Shit,” You moaned. He brought himself out and back in, slamming into you. “Fuck!”

He was splitting you in half. And you wanted him to.

You would wake up to cold sheets and fall asleep to silence.

You would work alone with a smile plastered on your face only to come home and feel the emptiness.

“You would be perfect for the position here!” The voice on the other side of your phone said, muffled only slightly by the speaker. “We look forward to your decision! Take as much time as you need.”

It was the happiest you had been in a long time, bringing a bright feat to your mind at the thought of moving somewhere else with such an amazing opportunity.

Some of the divisions in Europe had teamed with the States. They offered you a pro hero job that fit your quirk perfectly, and they wanted you to come by the next month.

It would be faultless.

When the door opened to signal that your boyfriend had arrived home, you rushed out to greet him. “Guess what?”

He blinked up at you for only a millisecond. “What?”

“I got offered a job!” You couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s overseas, so I want us to talk about it.”

“That’s great.”

His voice nearly mocked your excitement, monotone and deep. He was bored.

Your heart shattered. “ You don’t have to come with, of course; but if you don’t want to come we can figure out long distance. It would be--”

“Why don’t we talk about this more later, yeah?”

You were frozen in place. You wanted a bit of excitement. You wanted a hug, a congratulations. He knew that you had always wanted to travel, that this was the perfect opportunity for you to chase your dreams.

Your entire mood dropped the second he shit all over that.

“Yeah, yeah.” He kissed your cheek as he walked past you. “Welcome home.”

Talking to Shoto Todoroki was not much different than talking to a brick wall.

You would voice your concerns only for him to wave you off. He would tell you not to worry, he would tell you that everything is fine when it clearly was not.

“We should talk.” You told him as you readied yourself for bed.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” He asked with his eyes closed. “It’s been a long day.”

The same response you would get every day.

“Sure.”

You would talk the next day.

Falling out of love was much like falling into it.

It was turning off a light before bed, the lightbulb taking it’s time to dim out. It was watching the water drain from the bathtub until the last drop fell. It was a forest fire in the rain.

It was redecorating your bedroom and liking the new layout much more. It was the feeling of drinking water after running suicides. It was sitting down after standing for hours.

It was a cherry blossom in the spring, only to disappear come fall.

Because falling out love is falling out of everything.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t do it anymore.” You told your boyfriend of years.

You expected him to question your reasoning. You expected an argument, a fight. You expected him to want you to stay. For him to ask you to stay.

But he didn’t.

Shoto Todoroki only stared at where your hands were just connected in his and said, “okay.”

You had placed your ring into his palm.

You stood to collect some of your things, just little things that you were going to take with you for the night. You expected him to watch you. You expected him to catch your eye at least once.

He didn’t.

He didn’t move at all, still staring at his hands that stayed clasped on the table. He didn’t look up at you, didn’t acknowledge you putting your shoes on.

You were at the door when he finally jumped from his seat and spun around. He raced to the hallway of the apartment complex.

“Why?”

You froze in your spot. Your heart broke in your chest, splintering every bone in its wake.

You turned around.

“Why?” You repeated.

“Why?” He visibly swallowed. “Why can’t you do it anymore?”

Your eyes flickered between his. You could see the unshed tears lining his eyes, and you could feel yours as well. But you mainly witnessed his confusion, his anger that burned beneath the heterochromatic eyes you fell for.

“Why can’t I do it anymore?” You repeated again, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “Shoto, we’ve been walking on eggshells for the past year! I have been holding my breath every single day, not knowing if I were going to see the warm or cold side of you that day. We would go weeks without talking, without looking at each other. Do you really want that in a relationship?”

Todoroki started to make an excuse, to form an explanation. But no words could come out.

He started to speak your name when you stepped closer to him.

You took his hands into his again, and he felt as though he was simply a speak of sand on a beach beneath your touch.

“Shoto, I love you. I have always loved you, and I will always love you.” You stared at the intertwined fingers. He wished you would look up at him. “And you claim that you love me back, but I truly don’t think that you do.

“Because what our relationship has been... that hasn’t been love. It’s been pain, over and over and repeated again and again. For you to be in love, it means letting me in. Letting me get close to you and know your thoughts and feelings.

“And you have never allowed me the pleasure of getting to know you.”

You finally looked up at him with those beautiful eyes. The beautiful eyes that were filled with tears at that moment, the beautiful eyes he caused that much pain to.

As he stands in front of you, Todoroki imagines a life without you in it.

He imagines a world in which he never met you, never found friendship in you. Never fell in love with you. It is nearly impossible, you are such a profound person in his life.

He wonders if he can forget about how your smile makes his stomach churn.

“Do you want to come with?” You offer. You motion to the streets behind you. “Do you want to come to dinner, too? I’m sure the guys won’t mind.”

Todoroki hesitates.

Your presence alone is overwhelming. It’s been years and he can feel his heart pound in his chest when your eyes meet his. He can still feel his head cloud at the sound of your voice.

He desperately wants to hug you, to feel your skin against his again.

“I don’t know if...”

“Oh, please no stupid excuses.” You say. “Please?”

And then, “I miss you.”

He doesn’t wait a second more, “Yes. I’ll come.”

masterlist

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

Text

Easy As A-B-C

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader

Summery: Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling

Words: 4,537

A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb.

Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 24

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.

You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.

You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.

“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.

You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don’t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.

He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue. “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.

When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.

What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.

“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”

#my writing #my fics #smut fic #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee smut #gwilym lee imagine #this has been half written in my drafts for much too long now #but im very happy to be able to finally post it!#just got one more thing to write for this advent countdown #which i'll try and knock off after i get back from church #so that its ready to go in the morning #anyway #hope ya'll like this #i might kind of love writing pretty dumb boys #blurb advent 2020

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beebrainedstudios · 3 years

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Hello! Could you tell me more about how you interpret/headcanon the sentient magic in Darker shades of magic? I read some of yours posts and I'm fascinated by the concept

Hi, and thank you! I'm glad you've found my theories interesting! This may be a little bit long and rambling, as I’m still nailing out just how I interpret the magic in this series. Some of this I came up with on the spot and some of it’s torn from previous posts, so if I later change things or contradict myself, that’s why. Enjoy!

So, magic is canonically implied to have some sort of will in the series. As Kell says it’s alive, even if it isn’t alive in quite the same way that people are, and it seems to express some sort of comprehension in the way that it has the potential to resist, act out, or flee (as is the case in White London). It seems to have the capacity to think and possess an agenda too, such as when Kell was able to perform spells he technically shouldn’t have (As Travars-ing while under the influence of a royal sword); the magic “let him in,” with the implication being it was because he asked it instead of commanding it. Now, I don’t think it’s sentient in the same way that Osaron is- it’s more like a force made of the threads of power, acting naturally, but with enough understanding to show favor or distaste. It’s not organic, it doesn’t think organically, but it can perceive and respond.

However, this kind of magic isn’t the only kind. I like to think that magic in ADSOM occurs in different types. First, there’s natural magic, the kind discussed above that is present everywhere and in everything. This kind of magic is sort of like a blanket that covers each world. Before the Split, it was able to move between each world, but regardless of where it’s from, magic develops a different “personality” depending on its relationship with the local people. Natural magic has a symbiotic relationship with humans that is supposed to be mutualistic- the magic gets used (which is its primary motivation) and people reap the benefits. In a stable world where this is happening, magic moves swiftly and readily interacts with people. However, in worlds where this relationship is disrupted (such as in Grey where it isn’t used) or where magic is abused (such as in White where magic is needed so much that they bind it), it has a tendency to leave or wither. In short, it won’t stay in a hostile or poor environment.

All people also have their own specific magic, which is really just their personal store of power that’s used whenever they cast spells and whatnot. This varies tremendously based on age, skill, luck, and other factors, but every person has access to different elements or spell types (Runes vs enchanting objects, for example). The scent also varies with each person, but only those who are well equipped in tracking magic or Antari are usually able to distinguish it.

Then there’s oshoc- AKA Osaron and Vitari. There’s no specific definition for them, but I’m going to define them as a separate chunk of magic that originated from a source and is capable of learning; basically a magic AI. Now, the books are vague on Osaron’s origins; magic appeared in Black London one day, but refused to interact with people until it grew lonely and bored enough to seek them out, and this is when Osaron first appears. Now, I’m going to take it a step further and say this was when Osaron was actually born; natural magic had already appeared, but a separate piece of it broke off due to a new desire and ceased being everywhere and in everything so it could be its own contained entity. So, Osaron can act independently of natural magic and actually works by manipulating the threads of power; he’s a catalyst that can manipulate the “equations” of spells, starting them or stopping them or changing them around. However, he still has the same innate desire to interact and change that natural magic has. He also made the Vitari stone, which is where Vitari comes from- it later developed a consciousness that is much less developed than Osaron (it is actively learning during ADSOM) but still focused on spreading and being used. As a general rule of thumb, an oshoc is able to use any magic no matter what kind it is- there’s not so much a symbiotic relationship there as a system they can access at any time. For humans, it’s a relationship; for oshoc, it’s a bunch of threads to be moved, as they don’t differentiate between natural magic or themselves and natural magic doesn’t either. All oshoc also rely on other sources of power to “jump-start” their own, typically in the form of the worlds' magic or humans.

Spells and enchanted objects are not magic- they are manipulations of magic that draw on its power, essentially chemical equations in magical chemistry, if that makes sense. So no will, no agenda, nothing- they’re just actions, but they can affect natural magic and oshoc. Normal spells are generally viewed positively by natural magic as a sign of use, but things like binding runes and the collar are seen as threats. Most spells are allowed or even aided by magic- meaning they are used easily- but anyone with a strong enough will or power will be able to use magic regardless of whether or not magic “likes” it (such as Athos with Vitari).

Finally, there’s Antari. Being a mixture of man and magic, natural magic has an innate connection with them that usually amounts to mutual affection for both parties. This bond is always present even when passive, and allows Antari to sense magic much more easily than normal humans; it is also what is responsible for the instinctual urge to travel and need to use their magic often. Antari feel a pull towards strong magic that can be compared to warmth in a cold room. The bond is stronger when an Antari likes their magic and tries to connect with it- this is why Kell (and Rowan) are typically favored by magic and allowed to get away with impossible spells, while characters like Lila or Holland have to put a little more work into it. There are a few drawbacks to this connection though, most notably a weakness in magic-poor areas and a vulnerability to oshoc, which directly prey on this connection in order to possess them. Due to the strength of this connection, humans placing large scale attacks on Antari can draw magic's ire, leading to storms and disasters as magic wields the elements to make a point. This generally only occurs when extremely powerful Antari are killed or when they die in large numbers though. On a smaller scale, it is common for flowers to grow in any earth that Antari blood touches, and an Antari's sour mood can summon rain or wind.

A few other random thoughts on the subject:

The reason Osaron and Vitari can possess Antari while Astrid can’t is due to their access to magic’s threads- oshoc can hijack the Antari-magic connection to more easily enter a mind than a human would be able to.

Examples of natural magic’s “favor;” Kell As Travars-ing while stabbed by a royal-half sword and Holland instinctually learning Antari spells with no prior knowledge of them.

It’s magic itself that Holland hears calling him when he dies.

The black plague is not a kind of magic, it’s a virus-like thing that overtakes and corrupts magic until it excites itself into nothing. Osaron is not solely capable of making it and does not consciously do so. The plague simply appears when magic is too strong and being manipulated too much; Osaron tends to cause it due to his power levels and overindulgence in using magic, but anybody powerful and overly-eccentric enough could theoretically cause it too. Oshoc however are immune.

Oshoc have access to the threads of power and can instinctively use them, but they must naturally learn about everything else, which is why neither Vitari nor Osaron had any idea what was going on when they first went to Red London. This is also why they lack many human social traits and are so easily confused by human behavior. That being said, there are some spells they can use for shortcuts, such as automatically translating things (Osaron does it in ACOL).

Osaron also feels an innate appreciation for Antari like magic does, but his consciousness also allows him to be annoyed with him; while he’d like to befriend them all, he doesn’t mind getting rid of them if they aren’t willing to do the same.

Neither natural magic nor oshoc really have any moral drive. The latter could theoretically be taught morals, but they don't look at things the same way people do, so there's less internal pressure to behave than there is for them to cast spells. Like everything else, it would be a learning curve.

And that's all I've got for now! I realize I may have strayed slightly outside the topic of the sentient magic specifically; my apologies! I guess I just got excited writing about everything and how the magic systems connect. Enjoy!

#this ended up way bigger than intended #oops #adsom #a darker shade of magic #shades of magic #adsom theory #adsom headcanons #bee rambles #ask bee #bee asks

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sailorspazz · 3 years

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[Fanfic] I Hope You Know

Happy 10 Dance Day! I somehow managed to finish my fic on time, so here it is~

Title: I Hope You Know

Series: 10 Dance

Rating: T

Words: 2,500

Summary: As they share one final training session, Suzuki and Sugiki each reflect on the time they have spent together.

Where to read: Posted on ao3 and fanfiction.net. Or just click below if you don't want to leave this wonderful hellsite!

I’ve returned with another fic! This one is a bit of an anomaly for me personally, firstly in that the format is different from anything I’ve written before, and secondly it’s the first time since 20+ years ago that I’ve written something with no explicit content. It’s based on chapter 33, so there will be spoilers for those who haven’t read that far yet. It takes place as the Shinyas share one last dance together during their final training session, taking a look at what they might’ve been thinking and feeling, and all the things they’re not expressing in words but hoping that they’re conveying to each other.

Suzuki’s thoughts are shown in plain text.

Sugiki’s thoughts are shown in italic

Shared thoughts are shown in bold

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Well, it’s finally here. Our last night training together. It’s only fitting that we start out here, in this park where we shared so many nights. It’s dark, but I can see your eyes shining in the glow of the streetlights. Are you gonna cry? That’d be a first, even though I’ve cried in front of you a bunch of times. Oh, now that we’re in hold, you’ve turned away and I can’t see your face. You better not insist on that proper hold position the whole time. We’re gonna go till sunrise, right? We don’t need to say it, we just know. And we’re not staying in one spot, either, we’ll dance all around this place where we spent the last eight months training each other, getting to know each other…falling for each other.

When we started out, I had no idea if this was really gonna work. We were butting heads so much, it didn’t seem like we’d make it more than a couple weeks before driving each other insane. But we’re alike in that we both share the same drive, and maybe we’re also just too damn stubborn to give up. You’ve spent years being forced to play the role of underdog, even when you’re pretty much equal to that guy. And you know they won’t let you win, but you’ve kept trying this whole time. You keep training, keep improving, keep working toward the day when you can get far enough ahead to where they can’t deny you, when you can finally stand on top of the podium and say, “No, fuck you, I’m number one.” You told me all those months ago that I inspire you, and I hope you know the feeling’s mutual.

I was captivated from the very first time I saw you. I knew immediately that you were special. Yes, your technique was atrocious and it defied all of the stringent rules of ballroom dance, but you exuded the qualities I was lacking, with your innate ability to express the essence of the music through your body, your ostensible sensuality, and most of all, the joy that effortlessly radiated out of you. You were so overwhelming that I came to picture you as an otherworldly being, my own enthralling God of Dance. What would you think if you knew that, I wonder? Would it inflate your ego and make you even more arrogant? Or would you get embarrassed and show me that adorable blush once more? Perhaps both at once, that would be ideal. You’re so expressive, sometimes to your own disadvantage, but it’s always a delight to see your emotions on display. Even though we haven’t practiced Latin in quite some time, I’ve still learned a lot just by watching your face every day. You’ve unlocked things inside of me that I didn’t even realize were there…

I’ve come to find the way I was raised wasn’t typical for a professional dancer. Most of them are like you, and turning pro and winning comps are goals they’ve had since they were little…though your level of single-minded focus goes way beyond most of them. But me, I was just being influenced by the dancers I was surrounded by every day; it was in my blood, my culture, my life. When Dad suggested I make it into a career, it seemed like it’d be an easy option for me. I mean, it’s not like I had any other skills anyway. But it was an uphill battle when I started out. I wasn’t ready to have the freedom I felt when dancing be crushed down and molded into a neat little box that followed a bunch of rules. It was stifling, and it took years before I could feel comfortable going through the motions that were needed to get me to the top of competitions. I ain’t strategic like you, but I learned to be so I could make good money to send home to Mom and my sisters. Don’t get me wrong, I never stopped enjoying dance, but holding myself back so I wouldn’t rise up too far made me feel trapped, like a caged animal. And then you came along with your offer to train each other for the 10 Dance. I didn’t even wanna do it, but you goaded me into it somehow. I didn’t know then how much that simple agreement would change my life…

I hope you know how grateful I am.

For years, I cherished any chance I had to share the same venue as you, and when you participated in competitions where I was not present, I would come up with some excuse or another to give Mr. Urashima as to why I needed DVDs of those performances. I could enjoy your mesmerizing routines to my heart's content, though nothing was quite comparable to the spectacle of watching you in person; even though you became more reserved compared to that first untamed showing, I could still see that fire lurking within you. I was intrigued, and I wanted to know you, though with us competing in different disciplines, and our parents holding a long-standing grudge against each other, it was difficult to imagine how that might happen. As a result of us both being national champions, we were occasionally in the same social settings, but we never shared any conversation beyond mere pleasantries. Though I was the one with a much higher standing in the world, you were the one who felt unattainable, sitting at the tip of my fingers yet eluding my grasp. It seemed like I would always be relegated to watching you from afar. But eventually, I noticed, you began to watch me back. I didn’t know why, but I was finally on your radar. I then began to wonder how I could bring you into my life, and that’s when I started considering the 10 Dance. It presented an opportunity for me to approach you with a proposal that would benefit both of us, though I couldn’t be certain that you would even be interested in taking up my offer. And indeed, you initially rejected me, but I’m nothing if not persistent. Thus, I finally obtained what I had wanted, though as we spent more time together, I came to want much more from you than I ever would have predicted. I hope you know that I didn’t plan for all of this to happen, but I’m glad that it did.

I've never had any relationship like this, and not just because you're a guy. Most of the time, it’s just been quick flings with no deep attachments, and I’d soon move on to the next one. Even when they lasted a bit longer, I'd eventually get bored, or things would fall apart, but it never really bothered me 'cause there were always other options. But with you, it's totally different. Obviously, I wasn't looking at you romantically when we started, and we didn't even get along back then, but something started building between us despite that. That bond got deeper and deeper, and before I knew it, I was desiring something that went against everything I thought I knew about myself. Which I might've been able to ignore if you didn't feel the same way. But we started playing a dangerous game, getting more entangled in that passion, even as we acted like we didn't want it. God, you're an amazing kisser...I tried so hard to keep it at just that, but I couldn't help wanting more of you. Sex is usually how my relationships start, so the months of longing and buildup with no payoff really got to me. I was frustrated, sexually and otherwise. Then you went and said all that weird stuff about how much you wanted me, and I just couldn't take it. You were obviously not in touch with reality, and were oblivious to the stalemate we faced as two men who both need to be in control. You needed a reality check, and I should’ve picked a better way to do it, but I just sorta snapped. I pushed things too far, and I hope you know I’m sorry.

Soon after we began training together, I was struck by how compatible you and I were. Even when we clashed personally, we managed to sync up well when we danced. I’ve been told that I’m difficult to work with, so it has been quite challenging finding someone who can keep up with my demands. I’ve cycled through many partners in my lifetime, and you were the first who was capable of keeping pace with me. Such a cruel fate that my ideal partner would end up being someone I can’t compete with in official competitions…but is this actually what I had wanted all along since I first saw you? Now that I think about it, the Emperor’s Hold I created just isn’t suited for leading a woman’s small frame. Did I subconsciously make something more suited to two men hoping that you would one day dance with me? That doesn’t quite match with my previous goal of having my professional and romantic partner be one and the same, though; I never pictured you as the latter until much later on. With Liana, we meshed well, and becoming romantically involved felt natural and convenient. With you, it was certainly not convenient, yet it was absolutely irresistible. And though I thought the disappointment I felt when she left me was the worst feeling I would ever experience, it was nothing compared to the devastation of losing you. But through all of that, our connection remains even now. Will it still be there after we spend months apart? I don’t want to think about how it would feel to lose the closest bond I’ve experienced. I hope you know this means everything to me.

Even after we gave up on being together, I can’t put it behind me. My feelings are just as strong as ever, and the binding thread that links us keeps pulling me toward you. There’s no moving on from this. Falling for you feels like both the best and worst thing that ever happened to me...but I hope you know I don't regret it.

I know you’ll thrive under Norman’s tutelage. Selfishly, I relish seeing all of the influence I’ve had on you when I watch you dance standard, and I’m hesitant to allow someone else to take over and erase what I’ve imprinted into you. But Norman possesses merits that both you and I lack, and it would be best for you to learn as much as you can from his style. You’ll make it your own, of course, since you’re far too exceptional to be a mere copycat of anyone. I may have used my connections to help you, but the fact is, none of them would have agreed if it weren’t for your raw talent and charm. I’ve seen you transform from a diamond in the rough into a truly brilliant star. I merely brought you to everyone else’s attention, and people are finally starting to take notice. Before too long, you’ll be receiving well-deserved accolades worldwide. I hope you know how proud I am of you.

I used to laugh when I heard some pros thought dancing feels better than sex. But with you, I get it…though I can’t help but wonder if sex with you would feel even better. Our connection goes beyond anything I’ve shared with anyone, ever. I ain't had a bunch of different partners like you, but I can tell what we have here is rare. This doesn't just happen between anyone, it seems like a once in a lifetime sort of thing. I know it won't be the same with Norman, or anyone else. I'll do my damnedest to learn all I can from this "final gift" you're giving me. But this bond, these feelings, I know I'll only share them with you...

I’ve known this night was coming for months, yet I still don’t want to face this reality. When Norman told me he was willing to take over your training, I wondered how I would feel once that day finally arrived. I’ve already experienced a feeling of hollowness when we’ve only been apart for a few days, so I imagine over the coming months the emptiness could devour me until I feel like vacant shell. I still have things I need to accomplish, though, so I can’t allow that to happen, and I have plans to fill the enormous void that you’ll leave behind. But there’s no substitute for what we share, and I know I’ll only be distracting myself from the heartbreak of being apart from you. I don’t know what I’ll do without this. If only the sun would never rise…

I hope you know you’re irreplaceable.

I can tell you’re thinking about our time together, too, I can see it in your eyes when I get a glimpse of your face. Sometimes you’re smiling, sometimes you look down as we take our last dance down these streets. There were lots of ups and downs for us during the last several months, but we’ve both gotten a lot out of this partnership, and I don’t just mean as dancers. Though you seem to base your entire identity and view of the world around your profession, I hope I can change that for you. I think that’ll only happen once you’re beaten by someone you actually respect. I can see that your fight against Giulio isn’t fun or fair for you. You’ve sacrificed so much, even putting aside your own humanity when you thought it would help you win, but where has that gotten you? Your soul needs saving, and I want to be the one to do it. I want to be a worthy rival to you, to become the one capable of putting the Blackpool Monster to rest. I’m going to crush you in competition, but I hope you know it's for your own good.

I hope you know, even though I haven’t told you…

I hope you know, now and always…

I love you.

Oh, the sun's coming up. We both stop, but we're in no hurry to leave each other's arms. I'm focusing on every point of contact, trying to sear the memory of your touch into my body. I wish I could hold you, kiss you, whisper sweet words into your ear. But at this moment, no actions or words feel like they'd mean more than what we shared tonight. We hesitantly let our arms drop, but our hands remain linked. I wanna look at you so badly, but I know it'll only make it harder to leave. We each turn to walk away in opposite directions, our hands still refusing to let go. Just a few moments longer...finally, one last mutual squeeze, and then we head off on our separate paths, already longing for the day when we'll meet again. After walking halfway down the block, I turn my head back, hoping there's enough space between us now that you won't feel my gaze. But you turn around at the same time, and our eyes lock from a distance in the soft glow of the early dawn.

I know.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

I’ve had this fic in mind for several months now, but it took the deadline of the 10 Dance fandom day on October 20th to force me to actually get it out. I hope the format worked okay, I haven’t really done anything before that’s all thoughts and feelings with very little described action. I do have plans for another fic, which will be back to more of my usual go-to of fluff and smut. Hope you enjoyed it, Thanks for reading!

#10 dance #10dance #10 Dance Day

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zutaralesbian · 3 years

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zutara and bamon!

Zutara:

Why I ship them (or why I do not): Ooooh Zutara. They're one of my oldest ships and one that I ALWAYS drift back to eventually when it comes to phases lol. I started shipping them back when I was about thirteen and they were one of my first major introductions to online fan works. The first time I watched ATLA it was when it was first airing and I was only a young kid, so I naturally just 'shipped' the canon pairings. But when I found out that Zutara was a thing I was intrigued by it and a bunch of meta and fics later, I was hooked. I just love the fire and water symbolism of them and the way they parallel each other. Their relationship development and the mutual understanding and respect they have for each other by the end of the show. There's just....so much interesting storytelling material for Zutara. And I think that's one of the biggest reasons they're so popular.

My favorite moment between them: I feel like this changes all the time but I think right now it would be the cave scene in Ba Sing Se. Despite Zuko's betrayal afterwards I just loved how these two people who were enemies for the entire time they've known each other bonded and found some understanding between each other. Also Katara offering to use the water from the oasis to heal Zuko's scar and Zuko letting her touch the scar???? Kill me. I feel like a lot of what I love about Zutara is represented in that scene alone.

My least favorite moment between them: I don't think there is a ZK scene that I hate. I mean, I don't like the infamous pirate scene in book 1 but I also think people make it out to be a lot worse than it actually was. (I've seen people compare it to the R*ylo scene where Kylo captures and tortures Rey and that is so undeserved and extra.)

The character I prefer: Zuko is my socially awkward son and I have a special love for him so he's definitely my personal fave. There aren't many character arcs that make me as emotional as his. BUT at the same time I know Katara is queen and she's definitely my second fave.

A fanfic idea for them that I would love to read or write: The post-war idea I have where Mai leaves Zuko for Ty Lee, Katara and Aang breakup amicably, and then Zuko and Katara fall for each other on a trip together to visit a healing Azula lives in my mind rent free.

What I would have changed about how canon handled them if I could: As amazing as canon Zutara done right would have been, I'm kind of okay with them not being canon? Mostly because with the exception of Sukka I think Bryke sucks at writing romance lmao. And I have more than enough ZK fanwork to keep me satisfied. BUT in a perfect world I would have had Zutara been implied as a future romance in the end and erased the K*taang and Ma*ko stuff. (The gaang are all literal children. I think it would have been more than fine if they ended the series all single.)

Bamon:

Why I ship them (or why I do not): They had great chemistry and were just a fun dynamic with a lot of potential (especially in the later seasons after they became friends.) I think their development from begrudging allies (and occasional enemies) to friends was fun to see and always an underrated dynamic in TVD and I would have loved to have seen it go all the way to lovers.

My favorite moment between them: Damon reciting the letter he wrote to Bonnie before he put himself in the coffin that she never read always gets me in the feels.

My least favorite moment between them: For some reason I can't really remember a specific scene but I know there were plenty in the early seasons that made me angry lol

The character I prefer: Oh definitely Bonnie. She was a queen that always deserved better than the way that shitty ass show treated her. She's the only reason I stuck with TVD as long as I did. I do admittedly have some kind of soft spot for Damon too though and I prefer him as a character over Stefan. But I completely understand why people hate him lmao 🥴

A fanfic idea for them that I would love to read or write: It's been soooo long since I've even thought about Bamon fic. But back in the day S6 canon divergents were my shit and I'd be down to reading one again if there are new ones out.

What I would have changed about how canon handled them if I could: Here's how I think I would have made them canon starting in S6: Damon and Bonnie would have had a frenemies with benefits kind of arrangement while they were stuck in the prison world together. (Honestly it's ridiculous to me that they didn't on the show. Two people with chemistry stuck in a prison world together with only each other for company, not expecting to escape and they never once fucked? Fffs). Once they're both free from the prison world there's this lingering Tension between them even though they obviously decided to stop having sex now that they were both free. Bonnie now feels off seeing Damon and Elena together and she eventually realizes it's because she's developed feelings for him. But she keeps it to herself out of loyalty to Elena and Damon has been obsessed with Elena for almost as long as Bonnie's known him so there's no way he'd feel the same anyway.

This would continue on for a while until we got to S7, where Damon decides to put himself in a coffin until Elena wakes up. I would have had part of his decision to do this be because he realized he has feelings for Bonnie and felt like he was betraying Elena by having them, so he ran.

Cut to Damon returning and Bonnie suddenly being in a relationship with Enzo. Damon would have been insanely jealous and this would have kicked off a Damon/Bonnie/Enzo triangle. Maybe Damon has some kind of talk with Stefan that makes him realize it's okay for him to want to be with Bonnie, that Elena wouldn't have wanted him to be miserable while she was gone. The triangle would have eventually ended with Bonnie/Enzo breaking up and Damon/Bonnie getting together. (And the 'Dear Bonnie' scene would have been re-written to be a reveal that Damon confessed to being in love with Bonnie and not knowing what to do about it in the letter). We would have then seen Damon and Bonnie as a couple throughout the entirety of S8, with the finale having the implication that Damon was going to stay with Bonnie throughout her whole human life and then one day in the far future reconcile with Elena. (Basically the same way the Will/Tessa/Jem situation was in The Infernal Devices.) What really sucks is that the TVD writers could have EASILY done something like this if they weren't cowards.

Thanks! :)

#zutara #bamon #mericatblackwood #answered #long post /

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