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#like connecting hearts from part 2 is good and all and will never fail to like give me goosebumps
edenesth · 4 months
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The Way to His Heart [3]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 2 | Fic Masterlist | Part 4
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"I can't believe I finally have a bed of my own..." You whispered as the head maid disappeared from sight, closing the doors to your room behind her. The sheets were practically brand new, and you ran your hand across the smooth fabric, sighing in content before allowing yourself to lay down.
You failed to understand why the previous noblewomen set to marry Seonghwa would choose to escape from this. In your opinion, the general appeared quite generous.
Despite not knowing you or any of his past fiancées personally, he was considerate enough to provide each and every one of you with accommodation and basic necessities. These were luxuries even your own family had failed to offer you. He was already treating you better than anyone you had ever encountered in your life.
You couldn't fight the small smile forming on your face as you looked around your room, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude. In a short span of time, the general had managed to surprise you in more ways than one, and you certainly weren't complaining.
It still made you anxious to think of facing him again, given your less-than-ideal first meeting. He had already accused you of being insincere but proceeded to be kind in his actions.
Honestly, his behaviour left you perplexed.
At the same time, it ignited hope within you—a hope that maybe, in the presence of the supposedly heartless General Park, you could find the opportunity to change your life, for he had shown you more mercy than your own family ever had.
"Happiness... can I find it here?"
The words escaped your lips in a soft whisper before the unfamiliar soft sheets of your bed welcomed you into a deep slumber. Having grown used to sleeping on the floor back home, the sudden luxury brought an unexpected level of comfort, lulling you to sleep like magic.
Unbeknownst to you, Jongho and Eunsook had stationed themselves just outside your quarters, hoping to catch any suspicious conversations that might indicate your actions were part of a scheme orchestrated by your father to undermine their master. To their relief, they heard nothing of the sort.
"Sounds like she's fast asleep. That was quick." The assistant muttered, a faint smile playing on his lips.
The head maid nodded, her expression softening, "Can you blame her? She travelled all this way by herself. Oh, Jongho, you should've seen her earlier... She was genuinely pleased with this room. Not only that, she apologised for having nothing with her and even thanked me as if I had saved her life, all because of dinner."
Eunsook raised a brow as the younger man didn't appear overly surprised by the revelation. He sighed, "I believe you, all right. When I found her, she was wandering by the front doors alone, without servants or palanquin bearers. And that's not the worst; she bowed back to every servant on the way to the main hall."
The elderly woman nodded eagerly, "Yes, yes! She even bowed to me; it was the wildest thing I have ever seen!"
Jongho shook his head, "Something is definitely up; we have to find out what's happening. I don't believe for a second that the minister would have been okay with his own daughter being treated like this."
Eunsook had to agree.
"Whatever it is, I won't lie that I'm hoping for her to be our mistress for good. She's the first noblewoman not to yell or speak rudely to me. Having one of master is enough; I'm sure we could all use a kind and soft-spoken mistress around here."
The assistant didn't have to say anything for the head maid to understand that he, too, wished for the exact same thing. Despite their loyalty and attachment to the general over the years, they couldn't ignore the fact that his unpredictable anger issues turned him into a ticking time bomb. Tiptoeing around him and walking on eggshells had become exhausting on most days.
Before they could continue their hushed conversation, a servant approached them with wide eyes, "Jongho! Eunsook! The master has summoned you both to his study!"
The two gasped and nodded, "R-right, we'll be there at once!"
Speak of the devil.
Seonghwa's typically composed demeanour seemed overtaken by frustration as he glared at his desk. If looks could kill, the poor piece of furniture might have been sliced in half. The two employees exchanged a wary glance, inhaling deeply to steel themselves before entering the study, "Master, you called for us?"
They stood straight as a plank, anticipating the impending outburst from the general.
But it never came.
"I'm confused." The two blinked, awaiting further explanation.
Yeah, so are we.
"I don't like being confused because I'm never confused. Does she even know who I am? The audacity of this woman..." He muttered lowly, clenching his fists.
It infuriated him that he found it difficult to read you. Usually, he prided himself on being able to see through almost anyone, and this situation wounded his pride, sparking anger within him. How dare you waltz in here and change all that? Who did you think you were? But what he despised even more was his struggle to be angry with you. The innocence in your eyes was impossible to deny.
And he hated it with a passion.
Finally lifting his gaze, he bore a glare into his assistant and head maid, "You two, I want you to tell me every single thing that happened when you were with her."
If Seonghwa believed his confusion would be dispelled after hearing what his aide had to share, he was wrong. He was left feeling more confused than ever.
"She was at the entrance... by herself?"
"Yes, sir."
"Without any servants or palanquin bearers?"
"Yes, sir."
"And she... bowed to all the servants?"
"Yes, sir."
Narrowing his eyes, the general pushed himself off his seat, scoffing lightly in disbelief, "I don't know what she or her father is trying to get out of me, but I will not be foolish enough to walk into their trap. This must all be part of her act; I'm sure of it."
However, the reminder of her currently being at her quarters brings a devious grin to his face, "She can pretend all she wants, but no sane person will willingly agree to stay in The Cold Palace. Tell me, Eunsook, I want to hear all about her reaction to my masterpiece. Oh, it must be priceless."
The head maid cleared her throat, recognising that her master might not appreciate her response, "W-well, you see, master—"
"No, wait, don't tell me," He held up a hand, stopping her abruptly, "I want to hear it from her myself. Get her to the dining hall on time, Eunsook. I'm sure it'll be wonderful; our first and last dinner together."
All the previous candidates for marriage were given quarters that, despite being less than ideal, were still superior to yours. And they all fled at the mere sight of it, unable to endure even a single day. No matter how skilled you were at acting indifferent, the general was convinced that The Cold Palace would likely be your breaking point. He imagined you gaping in disgust, desperately trying to tolerate it for the time being.
Oh, he couldn't wait to see you finally break character and unleash your frustration, berating him for the mistreatment and expressing your disappointment in him. He looked forward to enjoying the view of your back to him, storming away from his estate, never to return.
The Cold Palace has to be a foolproof plan.
It has to be.
Except it really wasn't.
Jongho knew that. Eunsook knew that.
Every other servant in the estate knew that.
But Seonghwa didn't. And that was a problem, a huge one. The assistant and head maid feared for your well-being. They were well aware that pride held great significance for their master, and your presence was undoubtedly going to bruise it severely.
Knowing the general, he wouldn't let you off the hook easily when that realisation hit. They worried about the drastic measures he might take to scare you into leaving.
Eunsook couldn't linger on those concerns for long as the kitchen staff alerted her that dinner preparations were nearing completion. Letting out a deep sigh, she rushed to your quarters, hoping to assist you in getting ready and ensuring you wouldn't be tardy. The last thing she wanted was for you to further get on the general's bad side.
It struck her then that she was already developing a sense of protectiveness toward you, even though she hadn't known you long or well enough to warrant such feelings. Despite her master's adamant belief in you putting on an act, she had witnessed firsthand to know that it was far from the truth.
Approaching the garden path leading to your quarters, she addressed the servants working there, "Has the mistress sought assistance from any of you?" They shook their heads, "No, she hasn't. In fact, she barely made a sound since her arrival."
"Really? I expected her to at least request a bath after the long journey she took to get here. No matter, I'll ensure she's prepared for dinner." The head maid shook her head, finding your behaviour less surprising with each passing moment.
Pausing at your room's entrance, she called out cautiously, "Mistress, may I enter, please?" She heard a faint shuffle and observed your silhouette through the thin paper walls as you approached, "Hold on, I'll be right there!"
She was taken aback to see you hurrying over just to open the door for her, "Oh dear, mistress! All you had to do was grant me permission, and I would have entered. There's no need for you to come all the way just to open the door for me, please!"
The small, sheepish smile on your face had affected the elderly woman more than you realised, her heart melting as she found you incredibly endearing.
"I'm sorry; I'll learn to do that next time."
Eunsook sighed, "You have nothing to be sorry for, mistress." She murmured, observing you with a motherly softness in her eyes.
She wondered if this was the reason the minister had kept you hidden all these years. Perhaps he wanted to shield you from the cruel world due to your innocence and precious nature. But the puzzle pieces didn't fit when she recalled how Jongho had found you – alone and abandoned.
So, what was really going on?
What was going through the minister's mind, and what exactly did you experience to turn out like this?
"Well, I've come to let you know that dinner is almost ready." She observed your face light up at the mention of food, and a simultaneous growl emanated from your stomach, prompting her to chuckle at the embarrassed blush dusting your cheeks.
Why didn't you just ask the servants around to bring you a snack if you were so hungry? Eunsook wondered to herself.
"I'm also here to assist you in getting ready, in case you'd like to change or anything." You shrugged and shook your head, and she recalled your nearly empty duffel bag. Oh dear, you didn't even have clothes to change into.
"That's alright. Let me just tidy up your hair and give your makeup a little touch-up, and we can go. How does that sound, mistress?" You nodded, responding softly, "Yes, please."
The head maid resisted the urge to coo out loud as she led you to the vanity table in your room. She grimaced as she took in the condition of the mirror in front of you, wearing out just like all the other furniture in here. The reflection was no longer clear due to its old age, but you remained unfazed as you waited for her to work her magic.
Not wanting to further waste any time, Eunsook was quick in her movements as she helped comb up the strands of hair that came loose and added some more foundation where your previous makeup was smeared from your little nap.
"There, all set. You look beautiful, mistress."
Your smile faltered slightly at that before you thanked her for the compliment, suddenly being reminded that she would not be thinking that for long. She would no longer consider you beautiful when she sees you without all these enhancements.
"Come, let me take you to the dining hall before we're late." You trailed behind her obediently, your heart thumping in excitement just thinking about what they could be serving for dinner.
Your worries could wait.
For now, just for now, perhaps you could finally experience what it was like to enjoy a nice and warm meal.
Or not.
Your steps slowed down a bit when you caught a glimpse of your new husband already waiting in the hall, "I-I'm having dinner with General Park?" The elderly woman wore an apologetic smile as she nodded, "Yes, mistress."
Of course.
Who else would you need to look beautiful for, if not the general?
Eunsook wished she could warn you of what was to come, but even she had no clue as to what her master could possibly say or do tonight. She could only pray that he goes easy on you, "Let's go."
Entering the dining hall, you felt a mix of nerves and anticipation. The grandeur of the room was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but steal a glance at the general. His stern expression didn't reveal much, leaving you wondering about his thoughts.
The head maid bowed before presenting you, "Master, Miss Jang has arrived for dinner."
Seonghwa nodded in acknowledgement, "Ah yes, I've been waiting. Come take a seat, wife."
"Good evening, my lord." You bowed and approached the table cautiously, settling beside him. Your eyes widened as you marvelled at the colourful dishes laid out, and the tantalising aroma made it difficult to resist the urge to dive in.
Although you hadn't shared any meals with your family, you knew enough to remember the basic etiquette: the eldest or head of the house should start eating first. So, you patiently watched his untouched chopsticks, hoping he would initiate the meal.
To say he was merely annoyed by your apparent fixation on the food would be an understatement. The fact that you remained so nonchalant, especially after spending half a day in that pathetic excuse for a room, irked him. You should have been making a big fuss about it by now.
Instead, there you sat, seemingly drooling at the sight of the food but still polite enough not to start eating first. Your impeccable manners were getting on his nerves.
Still keeping up with the act, huh?
Smirking, he moved his hands from his lap to the table. Your immediate straightening up betrayed your anticipation, thinking he was about to grab his utensils. However, your disappointment was palpable when he only moved to rest his elbows on the table, intertwining his fingers.
"So, tell me, wife. How do you like your new quarters?" He pressed, a sly grin playing on his lips.
This is it; this is your chance.
This was the moment, your opportunity to convey your gratitude for his generosity. Maybe, by expressing your thankfulness, you could open a path for him to consider accepting you more readily as his wife. And then, both of you could finally savour these delightful dishes together.
Unlike you, Eunsook, in her corner, wasn't as optimistic. She tensed immediately, sensing that the impending drama was just about to unfold with his question.
With a wide smile, you started, "Oh, I couldn't be happier with it, my lord. I want to thank you for your thoughtfulness. The room is beyond my expectations; it's everything I could ever wish for and more. It was so comfortable that I'd already had a good rest before coming here."
Seonghwa's grin wavered at your words, his eyes narrowing dangerously at you. You blinked, perplexed by the threatening glare he directed your way despite the genuine sincerity in your words.
After what felt like an eternity, he scoffed in disbelief before growling, "Are you mocking me, Miss Jang?"
You gasped, shooting up from your seat immediately. You shook your head furiously, "N-no, I wouldn't dare! I meant every word—"
But he leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest in amusement, "Is that right? This must all be very entertaining for you, huh? I know you're only here because your father has some ulterior motive. You sure are a skilled actress; I see now that the minister has trained you well all these years. And now you're finally old enough to come carry out his dirty work for him."
Feeling wrongfully accused, you fell to your knees and cried. You wished he would just listen to you, "Please, that's not true..."
Eunsook could only lower her head in pity, wishing there was anything at all that she could do for you, but intervening might get her into a whole lot of trouble. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped for the best.
Rising from his seat, Seonghwa approached and tilted your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze, "You can repeat those words all you want, my dear. I didn't expect you to come here and admit to me that easily. I know you and your father are scheming something. Feel free to send him my regards. Tell him General Park is not foolish enough to fall for this little act."
Tears streamed down your face as you bowed all the way down, pressing your forehead against the cold floor tiles, pleading, "I beg you to believe me; that's not true at all."
Suppressing the subtle pang in his chest at the sight of your desperate plea to clear your name, he maintained his resolve, telling himself not to be easily swayed, "If you're so eager to prove your innocence, then you can remain there on your knees all night."
Detecting his head of maid's intention to step in, he shot the elderly woman a warning glare before she could utter a word, "I've lost all my appetite. Dispose of all the food here."
You sobbed against the floor, once again reminded of why they called him the cold-hearted general as you listened to Eunsook let out a strained, "Yes, master," before hearing the sound of your new husband's footsteps stalking angrily out of the dining hall.
All your hopes of sharing a meal and gaining his favour crumbled in just a moment. Even far from your family home, your father still had the means to torment you. You acknowledged that Seonghwa's struggle to trust you was influenced by the minister, and your mysterious identity only complicated matters. A sense of heartbreak overwhelmed you as you questioned if anyone would ever believe your side of the story.
If you were to reveal that the precious eldest daughter of the Minister of Military Affairs had been confined and subjected to torture like a prisoner in her own home for all these years, who would believe you?
The servants exchanged sympathetic glances as they hastily cleared the table, removing all the untouched dishes as per the general's directive. Despite their desire to help you, they understood the consequences of defying their master's orders.
Remaining on the ground even after the other servants left the dining hall, Eunsook knelt beside you, gently trying to lift you up by your shoulders, "Come, mistress. Let me take you back to your quarters."
"N-no! I m-must remain here all night t-to prove my innocence," You whimpered, shattering the elderly woman's heart once more, "Mistress, I'm sure master doesn't really mean that. Perhaps he was only saying it out of anger."
Despite her efforts, she couldn't persuade you to stand. You remained resolute, anchored to the spot. However, Eunsook worried for you. You hadn't taken a single bite of food since your arrival, and it had been who knew how long since your last meal. The idea of you kneeling there all night seemed ridiculous. Surely, her master didn't mean it literally.
« Preview of Part 4 »
Jongho's eyes widened upon hearing the head maid's latest update, "She's still kneeling in the dining hall?"
Deciding they couldn't let this continue, the two staff members gathered their courage and approached the general's private quarters, only to find the room empty. To their surprise, Seonghwa was still in his study at this late hour, an unusual occurrence as he was typically asleep by now.
Perhaps the guilt was keeping him up.
"S-sir, may we enter, please?" The assistant called out, breathing a sigh of relief when their master broke out of his trance and nodded, "What is it? Why are you both still up so late?"
Eunsook nervously cleared her throat, "Master, we wanted to let you know that Miss Jang hasn't moved from her spot in the dining hall since dinner."
The general's eyebrows shot up in surprise before he composed himself, "What a fool. Did she genuinely believe that kneeling all night would prove her innocence? She'll have to do much more than that." He rolled his eyes, but his employees could see through the façade.
"Take her back to her quarters before she frightens the servants who will be there to prepare breakfast soon."
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Just a heads up, I apologise if the next part takes slightly longer to come out because I've fallen sick since yesterday. Even for this part, I was working on it between my rest.
Aside from that, thank you for 700+ followers! And as always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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mondaymelon · 1 year
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— 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 ♥
:with anemo men!: (feat - venti + xiao + kazuha + heizou + wanderer)
thank you @ilyuu for inspiration on the prompt!!
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ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside
PART 2
[About: Lover]
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VENTI: ♥
“Oh? You want to know more about my lover? That’s quite bold of you to ask, isn’t it? All answers come for a price, but if you really insist… Well, they really are too nice for their own good, even if it sometimes doesn’t exactly show, and their words flow like the warm breeze~ …What? That doesn’t make any sense? Hah… as I thought, no one except for them can understand my poetic metaphors!”
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XIAO: ♥
“Why are they of your concern? Why do you want to know about them? Who are they to you?? …Forget it, I’m not going to tell you anything. You aren’t worth their time in the first place. Leave now. I tend to dislike small talk.”
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KAZUHA: ♥
“You know them? Your connections never fail to impress me, Traveller. Yes, the rumors are true - I am indeed seeing them. …What I like about them? Ahaha, among other things, their smile just makes my world feel so much more vivid… I can feel my heart soar whenever they call my name in that beautiful voice of theirs - Ah? Traveler, you look a little stunned. Are you alright?”
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HEIZOU: ♥
“Haha, you mean my partner in crime? Man alive, why do you look so pale? I was only joking! If anything, they’re my partner in… solving crime. Life too, they… they just don’t know it yet. Hey- you can’t tell anyone, alright? Especially not them!! Ah, now I’ve done it… blowing my cool image… Wait, is that a yes?? Hah… thanks Traveler. I owe you one.”
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WANDERER: ♥
“What do you want this time? Have you come to bother me again? Wh-What?? Why do you want to… yes. If you must know, I’m seeing them. There, I said it. Wh- Is that really so much of a shock? You look… almost terrified. …Whatever, it’s none of my concern in the first place. You won’t get any more information about them from me, so get lost already.”
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(a/n) anemo boys give me will to live
PART 2
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codfanficedits · 9 months
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Cheating Ghost part 2.
YOUR POV:
You and Ghost have been together for three years. You moved across the country for him, 10 days after you met him. You had been at his side ever since. You were there after the good missions, the bad missions and the failed mission. You were there to kiss his bruises, to hold him while he cried about a fallen teammate, you were there to celebrate every success he had in his career.
But lately things had changed. His mission taking longer than you were used to, him being more distant, no longer sharing the details of a mission with you. The first few weeks you tried to ignored it, thought it was because of a bad mission, but after a while you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Something was going on. Ghost was away on a mission when you received a text from one of his teammates, telling you he had seen Ghost leave with another woman. It left your heart shattered. You wouldn’t believe it at first, Ghost would never do this to you. But you knew it would fit, it was the missing piece of information to tie all of his odd behaviour together. You tried to ignore it at first, until the place you used to call home, was no longer appealing to return to. You could hear him set foot into the bedroom. You waited, pretending to sleep so you wouldn’t have to face him. He just stood there, as if he was waiting for you to make the first move. “Hey..” You said, making your voice sound hoarse. “How long have you been standing there?” You ask him.
“I was just admiring the view.” He answered. The fucking liar. You kick back the blankets and pat on the bed. “Come here, I’ve missed you.”
He starts to undress, and you pretend you don’t see the hickeys on his happy trail. Looking at it makes you feel sick. He slides in to bed with you, and you can feel the distance. “How was the mission?” You ask, your fingertips caressing his jawline, like you always do. “Oh you know, same old, same old.” He tells you. You can smell her on him, her perfume smells floral and expensive. He didn’t even have the respect for you to at least take a shower before coming home to you. You roll over to your other side, “let’s go to sleep, you must be tired, baby.” You say.
He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close and kissing your neck. Her perfume invading your bed, his erection pressed against you. “How about we have some fun first, hm?”
 You don’t know what makes you feel sicker. “I’m really tired, sorry.” You say, being too disgusted to even feel horny.
“Fine.” His voice got cold and he rolled away from you, refusing to touch you. Fine.
Your mind was racing, trying to make up a good excuse for him, it was trying to diffuse the situation. Surely there must be a logical explanation? He had fallen asleep next to you, you were wondering how he even could sleep at night. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he.. Maybe he.. But your mind couldn’t come up with a good reason, it was way to easy to connect the dots. But you needed to know for sure.
You saw the screen of his phone light up. Bingo.
Careful to not wake him, you got up from bed, slowly taking his phone from the nightstand, trying to not make a sound. You snuck his phone into the bathroom, you tried to unlock it, his passcode was your birthday for ages. Access denied. You frown, maybe you made a mistake typing it. You try again, this time even more careful. Access denied.        
Fuck.
You decided to type his own birthday, maybe he just happened to change it? It worked. As you scrolled through the messages you couldn’t really find anything. Soap sending him some memes. Captain Price reacting with two thumbs on everything Ghost send him. Gaz sending him pictures of food. Even their group chat was innocent.
You scrolled through everything. Until you found a hidden folder with pictures. Your eyes widened by the view. The pictures started looking innocent. Just some nudes, nothing too special. You could live with this.
Then they became more graphic. She was sitting on her knees, her tongue stuck out, semen on her face. You guess whose it was. You swiped again. It was her again, lying on a bed, looking at the camera with her hungry eyes.
A video. Against your better judgement you click on it. Your heart drops when you do so. He was fucking her like there was no tomorrow. She was on all fours, her face down, her ass up. You could tell by his pace that he was about to cum.
She helped it put it in again when it slipped out of her. It made you sick to your stomach. Yet you can’t stop watching. You’re torturing yourself. You can see his thick semen being shot on her back. You could imagine him grunting while he did so. You watch it again, pressing the volume button once. The sounds made you sick to your stomach, but your eyes were glued to the screen. The grunting was as you imagined, they were dancing with her moans. His voice cracked when he called her beautiful and you could feel your heart shatter.
A large hand slaps the phone out of your hand. “Do you always snoop through phones that aren’t yours?” A deep voice growled.
“Simon, what the fuck is this?” You ask. “What the FUCK is this?’ You yell at him.
“Oh come on, it’s nothing big.” He answered. “I’ve always been there for you!” You start to raise your voice again. “With every mission, good or bad. I have ALWAYS been by your side.”
His hand grabs your wrist. “Are you going to fucking behave?” He hisses in your ear. “Quit being a fucking drama queen.”
“Why? How could you?” Your voice sound defeated. He laughs at you. “Oh come on. You became boring. I can tell how you react at everything. It’s no longer exciting or new anymore.” He scoffs. He takes a step towards you. “Did you really think I loved you? Jezus Christ, you’re so fucking naïve.”
His words cut through you like knifes. Part of you wanted to change for him, be a more exciting person, anything so he wouldn’t leave you. But you weren’t stupid. You knew there was no coming back from this.
“I need you to get the fuck out of here.” You hissed. “Go sleep at Price or something.”
It was his laugh that sent the shivers down your spine. “I have to get out of here? Do I need to remind you this is my house? Take the few fucking things you own and get out before I kick you out.”
With tears in your eyes you grabbed your bag. You stuffed it with some clothes, your phone, your laptop and your wallet. He as right behind you when you walked out. Not saying a word to you. When you turned around to beg him to let you stay, his cold eyes told you enough. He slammed the door in your face. Leaving you all alone.
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gotham-daydreams · 7 months
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I absolutely LOVE the ‘Not’ series!
I’ve read a handful of the neglected reader trope (i.e. three) and so far, yours is the most detailed one in terms of how the batfam became yandere. Not to say that the others aren’t good– they’re great! They just don’t really show how and why.
Mostly they just show that the reason for their behavior is because of their guilt for neglecting the reader and their paranoia in finding the reader either dead or tortured (which is a valid reason), it just never convinced me(?) I mean, as far as I know, it’s normal to feel that way when a member of your family just vanishes without so much as a trace.
Which probably explains why I like part 2 so much, because not only did it showcase their own personal reasons as to why they turned out they way they are (borderline obsessive), but it showcased how badly the reader was neglected. I mean– you should’ve seen my face during the tapes part.
I guess I completely underestimated the neglect when I was reading part 1. And although, yes, I am aware of the fact that neglect is neglect, and there shouldn’t be a rate to determine when the neglect is bad enough because it already is bad–no matter how big or small the situation–I didn’t really feel (?? meaning, it didn’t touch me at first) it until reading part 2, where I saw the extent to the emotional abuse they put the reader through. At such a young age too? Jesus.
During the first part, I kept telling myself that this was fine and I’d probably be able to survive this and just be petty to my family if it were to happen, until I continued reading up to part 2. Only then did I realize how much I actually relate to the reader.
I’ve learned how to play the violin, done taekwondo, participated in school sports/events, and studied till my nose bled and I passed out (literally based on true events, was admitted to the hospital and was generally not a good time).
And you know what made all of that suck? I didn’t do it for myself, but for the validation of family (I’m from your stereotypical asian family who’s expectations are high and long enough to reach the moon and back).
And what made all of that even suckier was that there were times where my parents couldn’t even make it to the events, in which made me connect to the reader even more.
I know the feeling of standing up on a stage, desperately looking around the crowd for the two familiar dots which are your parents’ faces, only to be met with stacks of unfamiliar ones. Gosh, especially that heart crushing feeling where you just feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach when you realize they aren’t there to see the work you’ve practiced so hard on, especially when you did it for them.
I felt that exact same feeling for the reader during the part where Bruce saw all the fliers for the performances he failed to attend, and that was the exact moment when you could hear my heart begin to crack. And you can just guess that the rest is just my heart beginning to crack even more.
But anyway, I absolutely love how you wrote everyone’s individual personalities and their personal relations to the reader. I can really tell that it’s well thought out! Looking forward to the confrontation in part 3!!
Thank you so much!!! I'm glad you enjoyed the second part, and were able to connect with the reader! :]
That was also generally the main focus of Part 2, as I did really want to delve into the nitty-gritty of what got the Batfam started on this hell train to yandere land. Though I wasn't able to see that idea out completely as, y'know, I don't really describe how Tim, Damian, Steph, and Babs ended up hopping onto that train.
The portion of the Batfam in the Manor, and coming to terms with how they've collectively neglected the reader in these little, individual parts, is rushed and does kind of just hop to the city and how the reader is currently doing - along with establishing a time period for how long they've been gone. Which that is mostly because the more I wrote - the more laggy tumblr would get, so I made a last minute decision to speed things along (and I also wanted to get Part 2 out as soon as possible).
Regardless, as you've said there are other neglected!reader posts that do at least mention how the Batfam turns yandere, but they don't really go into detail, or mention a 'how', and just mention the 'why'. (Which is okay! They're amazing, and enjoyable reads anyway :]!) So for Part 2, I really wanted to emphasize on those details, and at least show how the seeds of obsession have been planeted.
Again, as you said! Worrying over the reader's well being, and coming to terms with the crushing reality of what you did to someone — albeit mostly unintentionally in most cases — and what that could potentially lead them to do, and what it's already caused them to do- is a valid and understandable reason! I just wanted to show more than that, and almost make it more... personal?
I wanted to show how it wasn't just pure worry and guilt that started them on this path. I wanted to show the planting of the seeds, and later, how these little things will make the Batfam commit to treading down said path.
Like how Bruce starts off as worried and guilt-ridden, only to end up in love with all these small details and character traits he notices from the reader in their notebook — which turns him serious and cements his will and need to find the reader. Or how Dick starts off similarly, but with a bit more panic and disbelief, only to discover just how much personality the reader had, and how lovely of a person they could be through their voice messages to him, which does fuel his guilt - yes, but I think it adds just that little bit more to everything. Or Cass and Jason watching those birthday tapes, and even Tim falling in love with the reader's music (which isn't gone into much detail within Part 2 itself, but is implied a little, I believe).
I feel like their fall feels more personal to the reader in that way. Rather than just have them be worried about the reader's health in some way (physical or mental (which is still a valid concern, of course!!)), they fall in love with pieces of the reader, and notice small details within them that draw the family in. Furthering their need to find the reader.
And I'm glad you enjoyed the characters as well! Even if I am still a little worried that they may be a bit ooc, I did want these small, but personal discoveries, or small glimpses the family had into the reader's life, to be unique in some way. With their interpretations differing, and while their general reaction was the same, their 'drive' is a little different. If not, then a little similar to one another with odd, small parts not quite matching up inbetween. Not to mention that with a whole family that is so similar, and yet so different- it felt fitting to try and aim for that. Though I can't say much about how well that exactly got across, haha!
Besides, again, with their different personalities and everything, it makes sense that their connection or relationship — or lack thereof — to the reader is a bit different for each of them. Which is kind of implied, I suppose, as some did catch a few small things about the reader, while others didn't notice much at all and such, but I'd like to think that it was a nice touch.
Putting further emphasis on the extent of the neglect and such was also intended, of course, and I also think you and other folks finding out such things from the eyes of the Batfam, was a fun way to go about it as well. Since you not only learn more about events that have happened before the series, but also get the Batfam's thoughts on it and how said information impacts them as well. Though who knows, maybe I'm looking too deep into my own writing- but it was fun, I will say that!
Compared to the development of the Batfam as yanderes, I do consider the information about the reader's life both in and outside of the Manor, as icing on the cake, in a way. Since it gives you more of that flavor along side the cake it self, but that probably doesn't make sense. Lol!
Anyway, I really liked this ask, and thanks so much for sharing your feelings, anon! And once again, I'm very glad that you're enjoying the series so far :]
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eddiiiieeee · 1 year
Text
My Angel ☆
Slash x reader
warnings: a bit of angst at the start, just fluff, mentions of alcohol and drugs, etc.
summary: y/n and Saul get into a fight about his addiction, and saul finds a letter y/n had written about him.
authors note: listen to September - sparky deathcap, because it fit 💀 part 2!!
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"Oh go fuck yourself, saul!" she yelled out as tears streamed down her face, staring back at the man she loves. she hid her face in her hands as Saul let realization hit him, he failed her again, he relapsed after promising to stay clean for the third time in their five years together. he called her names, trashed the house, told her he wished he never loved her, that he despised her. all because she had flushed his stash down the toilet, those words were the first thing she said since he started his tantrum. her sobs now filling the apartment "s-shit baby" he mumbled as he walked towards her his hands reaching up to hold her arms "don't touch me" she said flinching away from him almost instantly she finally looked up at him, with a look he couldn't even describe. y/n grabbed her car keys and purse, quickly rushing out of the apartment, leaving saul alone with his mess. she left. his brain was too drugged to comprehend going after her, he didn't know what to do, he was lucky he was even still standing with the number of drugs he's consumed. Saul rushed over to the phone connected to the wall, dialling Stevens number as he waited, till he heard a voice "steven adler speaking!" "adler, I fucking- y/n, she left and... shes gone" saul sobbed into the phone, leaving his friend very confused as Steven looked over at duff who'd been over at his house "hold on, me and duff are on our way okay?" saul nodded, letting the other hang up as he fell against the wall. he looked around the trashed apartment and noticed underneath a pile of glass, was a book. y/ns handwriting on the front of it. it was her journal, the one she always wrote in. he moved over to grab it, his fingers moving over the old leather cover of the book. he opened the book and let whatever page open, his eyes read over the words, letting himself remember how he loved her handwriting, she always said it looked like a little kid's handwriting, almost unreadable but he always read whatever she would write. he noticed the date that was written 22/9/1987. the day guns n roses performed at the ritz in new york. how can he look so pretty, so angelic without even trying, my saul, a complete angel. gosh how I love him, how I adore him, I've loved and adored him since we first met before all this, before guns n roses, back in 84. I don't regret going to Madam Wong's in East Hollywood, I remember how adorable he looked, his hair was less wild then. I remember the funky clothes he wore that night, god how I remember what I felt when he looked at me. I felt like a little girl whose crush held her hand for the first time during recess. I remember how he stumbled over his words when he came up to me afterwards, I remember how gentle his touch was, how he asked to kiss me underneath a faulty street light in California's weather, I remember every date and moment that happened after. I know saul isn't clean anymore, it hurts me knowing he could slip through my fingers at any given moment, he doesn't remember how I held him a few nights back, I could hear his breathing vividly, and I could see how the colour and life was sucked out of him, he looked almost ghost-like. he doesn't know that's why I haven't slept well in the past few nights, how could I? how could I rest knowing my angel might vanish. how I hate when he does it, but then again, how I love him. my beautiful beautiful boy, I gifted him that song and told him it described him very well. a very beautiful boy. I've dreamt of love this good, and I've got it, saul hudson will forever be the man I love. if we're together or broken up, far or close, in love or fighting, he will always be that angel that sits in my heart, strumming his guitar without a care in the world, singing my favourite songs to me, letting me run my fingers through his untamed curls. I wonder if we ever have kids and if they'll take after him, I hope they do, how I would love little version of him, with his beautiful brown eyes, gorgeous black curls, beautiful facial features, warm coloured skin.
how I love him, my sweet beautiful boy, my guardian angel. y/n l/n ♥ Saul hadn't noticed how hard he began sobbing, this was how much she loved him. and yet all he did was tell her he didn't love her at all. he pulled the leather-covered book to his chest and pull his knees to his chest. not realizing that the door had opened and revealed the mess of an apartment to his two friends. Steven's eyes quickly made their way to Saul, who was surrounded by broken glass, and wood. Duff looked around, getting an idea of what just might have gone down. they both rushed over to Slash, glass breaking underneath their steps "Hey man" Steven said as he crouched down to Slash's level "we need you to calm down alright? so you can tell us what happened and where y/n is" the smaller blonde explained as Duff rubbed Sauls back 
"get him some water, Adler" Duff said as Steven rushed to do so. it didn't take Steven long before he made his way back to them handing Saul the glass, who chugged it down rather quickly. "could you now tell us what happened?" Duff asked, Saul, keeping his gaze straight ahead "she found out I relapsed.she flushed all my shit down the drain, and I got mad at her. I yelled, I threw things, broke some more, i-i told her I didn't love her... that I would never forgive her for what she did, fuck man- I told her I hated her, despised her even" he mumbled letting out a sob towards the end "and she told me to go fuck myself, and when I tried to touch her, she moved away and told me to not touch her, and then she... she left without another word. I need her, I really really love her and I fucked up" he mumbled tears rolling down his cheeks, not caring that this had to be the first time he'd cried around the guys. 
Steven squeezed his shoulder before sighing "let's get you to bed, and then I'll clean up here and Duff can go look for y/n/n, okay?" Steven told his friend before he and Duff had helped Slash up and to his bed, the one he and y/n got up from not long ago. the minute Saul's head touched the pillow, he was out. Duff noticed y/n's journal in Saul's grip, he took it and placed it on the bedside table before leaving the room and closing the door behind him, Steven grabbed a garbage bag and began cleaning up the glass "you knew. you knew he was doing drugs again and didn't say a word to her." Steven told Duff looking at him "I know, I already feel like an asshole" the man said as he sat down on the couch ..... part 2 will be up soon, I promise!! thoughts?
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tadpolesonalgae · 8 months
Text
Nessian x mate!reader: Good Things Come In Threes - Part 2[*]
A/N: I kind just want to write some sleepy, slow morning with reader and Nessian bc I think they’re divine
Warnings: Pussy-eating, smut, spanking, squirting
It’s been six months since that talk in the kitchen. Six months of dinners every other evening, of tentative touches, of nights spent pushing your head under your pillow, then giving up to get yourself a snack when you need a distraction from the soft waves of pleasure that lap at your mind.
It feels like it’s been every night. Every night without fail, those waves roll in, washing against your mental walls. Unable to tell if they simply aren’t hiding it as much, or if you’ve become more sensitive to them after your shared time.
Still, the past months have been a strange flurry of memories; new experiences shared that pique your curiosity in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You’d begun getting up at dawn to stretch, throwing yourself straight into work—completing missions, heading to your job—then slumping into bed as soon as you reach home. Far too tired to so much as think of anything else.
Even if those waves were urging you to get into bed for an entirely different set of reasons.
Very alarming, indeed.
But you’re no Priestess; you can’t resist the temptation forever. So with heat gathering in the pit of your belly, and a rather grumpy mindset, you slide into bed, hand slipping between your thighs.
————
Nesta bolts up from the mattress, her book discarded as her hand slides over her chest. The pounding of her heart.
She knows this feeling—the golden shimmer of a bond settling into place—could never forget it. Her bones are boiling, heat thrumming beneath her skin, scalding her blood. Arousal swallows her whole, and her mind goes blank for a moment before she’s ripping at that devouring haze with teeth and nails. Panting as she stumbles out of bed, bare feet slapping on the floor.
Where’s Cassian?
He won’t be back until morning.
Can he feel it, too? The soul-wrenching tug from your side of the bond as emotion and feeling spills down the bridge that connects you all. She has no idea what has catalysed the click, but it’s happened, at last. Have you felt it too? Are you dealing with it okay?
The door practically opens for her as she careens out into the hallway, holding her head as it pounds with need. She slams into the wall, too off-centre to stable herself as she clumsily makes her way down the corridor, finding it hard to see through the fog of lust that’s clouding her vision at the edges, spotting it white and black.
She catches your scent, then, and her knees tremble, nearly giving out from the sweet flavour of what she inherently knows is your arousal.
She doesn’t have to hunt for you much longer as she spots you stumbling toward her, having just managed to exit your own bedroom.
The two of you stand at opposite ends of the hall, staring at each other.
Nesta holds her breath, practically trembling with restraint. Your arousal is so clear, permeating the air as her nostrils flare, taking it down into her lungs.
Her sharp blue-grey eyes lock on yours. One move in the wrong direction will send her tumbling over the edge of instinct she’s desperately attempting to keep herself from. But you take a small, shaky step toward her, and it’s enough.
You’re hurtling toward one another, colliding in a mess of teeth and tongue and nails scraping through hair. Tugging and angling, soft bodies shifting and slotting together as her mouth opens over yours, both your hands tangling in the other’s hair, wrenching it free from constraints.
Her tongue strokes over yours, flicking the roof of your mouth, shoving you against the wall as your hands slide all over her: squeezing her waist, pulling her hips against your own, cupping the swell of her ass as her chest pushes into you. The softness of her breasts pressing against you makes you further lose your mind, moaning into her mouth.
But then she’s tearing herself away, dragging you by your upper arm with a strength you neither want to nor are able to resist, pulling you back into your bedroom. The door slams shut once you’re both inside and she’s practically ripping the clothes from your body, shoving them over your head then reattaching her mouth to your own. Then lower.
Her teeth scrape over your neck, and your spine arches. Her hands brace your waist as she opens her lips wider, poised to bite into your skin with claiming possession. Her canines sink into your shoulder, tongue lapping out, then she’s nipping again, putting her print onto you wherever she can fit it. Possessive to her core.
“Nesta,” you pant, her name barely a huff of air as your fingers tangle in her messy hair-do. “Nesta, please,” you breathe, fingers desperately fumbling with her own dress, needing it off. To see her heavy breasts, to see the expanse of her skin, the heat between her legs. You’re boiling, sweltering with need as you twist her around, shoving your female into the bed.
You want relief so badly, you’d do anything at this point to have her attending you in some way, but her arousal—
You roughly spread her legs, locking eyes with her as you prowl forward, nails biting into the delicate skin of her thighs, strengthened with muscle. Her own teeth find her bottom lip as yours latch over the band of her underwear, fingers hooking beneath the fabric at her hips. Slowly, savouring, you begin dragging the material away from her, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest—the way her hands are already settling over her breasts, pinching sharply at her nipples to soothe the ache that’s beating inside.
She snarls lowly when you snap the band against her abdomen, her hand tangling in your hair, jerking your roughly; painfully. You hiss, but stare her down. “You want this as much as I do,” she snarls softly, strengthening her grip as she drags you closer between her thighs, hooking her legs over your back so you’re locked in place. “Stop teasing.”
Then she releases your hair and you latch over her. Hot, wet mouth encasing her hot, wet heat. Even through her underwear, you’re salivating—she’s mouth-watering. Appetising. What’s kept you away from her for so long?
Her hips buck, your nose bumping into her clit and she growls with pleasure. “More,” she orders roughly. “Give me more.” Whatever she says, you’ll do. “Set that mouth on me, dove.”
Nesta’s back arches as you pull the fabric from her in one fluid motion, your mouth only cold for a second before you’re heating it again. Easily, your tongue slides though her wetness, parting her with a single slice of the wet muscle, rolling it around and over her clit in the way you’ve found to enjoy. “That’s it,” she groans, winding her pretty hips against you, nails scraping over your scalp as she rides your face.
Slick mixed with saliva drips to the bedsheets, staining the crisp fabric but how can you care? There’s hardly a thought in your head aside from how tightly her thighs are squeezing you, using your shoulders to raise her hips to your mouth. A needy sound falls from her lips and you think she might already be near that point of collapse you’ve acquainted yourself with fairly comfortably over the past six months.
“Come on, dove,” she whispers, urging you on, “make me fall.”
You force your jaw wider, tongue pushing against her entrance, pressing inside as your nose grazes her clit—you bring your hand higher, thumbing at the sensitive bud. The breath whooshes from her lungs as the muscles in her stomach and thighs flex—toes curling against your back, using her feet to push you deeper into her heat as she plummets over the edge.
Sweet sounds of pleasure spill from her lips and you already know you need more. Need her to come again—harder.
Nesta pants heavily, legs loosening their grip on you but you merely latch your arm over her hips, hand splaying across her abdomen as you press down slightly. She gasps, spine arching.
You press a kiss to her clit, before starting up all over again—a little softer this time to balance her sensitivity. Her body goes supple and taut in so many different places with the resurgence of attention that you don’t know how you can ever hope to memorise all of her. She’ll have to do this again tomorrow. The day after. The day after that, too.
But you don’t hear the door snick open, your mind too preoccupied with thinking about how many different positions you want her in while she’s seated on your mouth. You’re unaware of the startled pair of hazel eyes that ravage the scene before them, arousal prominent as his cock rubs against the seam of his leathers almost painfully.
He sees Nesta’s eyes flick down to you, clouded with lust, and he beelines for your form. There’ll be time to kiss you later, to familiarise himself with the taste of your skin, the pitch of your moans. For now, he needs you to feel like you’re one of the dazzling Night Court stars, soaring through the chill darkness.
You don’t hear soft scuff of boots on the floorboards, or the rasp of ties coming undone. Only when Cassian’s large, calloused hands grip your hips tightly, launching you from the floor and slotting himself between your legs do you realise someone’s entered your bed chambers.
His scent wraps around you and you melt further, thighs squeezing his hips, knees bending as you cross your legs at the ankles. Nesta shifts back on the bed and you forcefully drag Cassian forward as you chase after her, quickly reattaching yourself to her heat—now with more support to your upper body, which is arching sinfully up to Cassian’s hips.
“This is the sight I come back to?” He growls roughly, spreading you so he can see the slick glossing your inner thighs. “You eating out Nes well for me, sweetheart?” He drawls, thumbing your entrance. You’re so wet he easily slides the first knuckle of his thumb in with no resistance. Not even the intention—there’s simply no abrasion.
You flick your tongue over Nesta’s clit, and her hips buck, a moan whining from her lips. Cassian chuckles deeply at the action, a husky sound from the back of his throat, laced with lust. “Good girl,” he praises, both as Nesta moans again, and as you try to push your hips back on him. Get him deeper inside of you.
His mind is spinning with arousal and hunger, taking in the perfect view before him. Not even in his fantasies would he have dared conjure something as filthy as this. The wet slurping sounds.
He growls lowly, fisting himself tight, guiding him to your entrance, and— Your muscles flex when you feel his tip pressing against you. That heavenly promise that’s just waiting to push into you. You growl onto Nesta’s cunt in demand, locking your legs around his hips like she had done over your shoulders, trying to pull him closer. But he’s infinitely stronger than either of you, and easily stands his ground, tutting softly.
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He drawls, watching how eagerly you drink down Nesta’s arousal, tongue licking, lapping, and flicking over everywhere she wants without hesitation, and with such hunger and devotion. You pull back to snarl out your frustrations, but it only gains you a firm spank to your behind.
You startle, eyes flying wide at the contact, and they both seem to still, as if awaiting your reaction. But you have no time for anything other than pleasure, and roughly flex the muscles in your legs, catching him enough by surprise that he sinks a few inches deeper into you and you moan, loud and clear.
Cassian barely has the sound of mind to punish you for that, snarling in response and tightening his grip on the underside of your legs—the tops of your thighs. Fingers biting into your skin. “Need to learn some damn manners,” he growls huskily, landing another spank to your backside, harder and rougher than the last. Again, you urge him deeper but he holds fast—he doesn’t know where the willpower is coming from. He wants nothing more than to sink into your warm, wet heat. To fuck you until you’re turning limp in his hands. Knocked out from pleasure.
“Ask for it properly, sweetheart,” he drawls, feeling as you tighten around him. He sees how your nails bite into Nesta, and how her spine arches at the sensation. You push up from her for only a moment, only long enough for you to tip your head enough to pin him with a scathing glare, “fuck me, Cassian.” It’s raw command, a snarl ripping through the sounds of pleasure.
He laughs, but it’s strained, and then he’s reaching forward to grip you by the hair. You growl when he pulls you away from her messy heat—inadvertently dragging you further down onto his cock. “Manners, sweetheart,” he growls back, tightening his already brutal hold on you, knowing—wanting you to bruise.
You whimper as you struggle against his hold, needing to bury yourself back into her heat, but Nesta shifts her legs back over your shoulders. You’re just out of reach, and she knows exactly what she’s doing. You can practically taste her.
“Go on, dove,” she croons, winding her hips once. Enough to have your lips grazing her wet heat, thin strands of arousal connecting your mouth to her cunt. You writhe against them, stretched between wanting to grind down on Cassian—get his cock nice and deep—and shoving forward—latching your mouth over Nesta.
But you can’t have both unless you follow their orders, and you won’t catch Cassian off guard again. You were lucky the first time. He won’t allow it to happen again unless that’s how he wills it.
“Please,” you mumble, heat flushing your body beneath the pinning intensity of their attention. “I want you inside.” Nesta’s eyes spark with approval, satisfaction flickering down the bond. “Promise you’ll be good from now on, sweetheart?” Cassian taunts, pushing his hips forward a little and you tighten around him desperately. “I promise,” you manage hoarsely.
“Atta girl.” You can practically hear the mocking grin in his voice, but you hardly have the capacity to care as he slides home.
Your eyes roll with pleasure as he fills you up, the tip of his cock kissing a spot deep inside of you that you had no idea even existed. Then there’s the case of that delicious pressure just above where he’s entered. If he would just—
Cassian’s hand presses against your lower abdomen, where he’s bumping through your skin. You gasp a whimper, spine curving as the embarrassing sound escapes your lips.
“You’re so much more expressive during sex,” Nesta muses, panting softly as her fingers slide beneath Cassian’s in your hair, telling him to let go now. He follows her order, yielding his control over you as her nails scrape over your scalp and he draws his hips back. Another whimper drags from your throat. “Maybe we need to fuck you more often, huh?” She drawls, tilting your head so you lock eyes with her. “Let us inside that pretty head of yours.”
“Nesta,” you breathe, brows curving as you plead. She raises a single, neat brow in return, “yes, dove?” You nearly whine in frustration. “Nesta please,” you pant, “you want this as bad as I do.” Satisfaction and feminine pleasure sharpen her grey-blue eyes as they pierce into you. “Good you’ve finally acknowledged that,” she says softly, before releasing you. Right as Cassian slides back in.
Your arms go weak, letting yourself collapse into her soft, wet heat. Tongue already swirling and lapping at her as you had before, desperate to have her coming again. This time you’ll savour her.
Cassian draws his hips back, at last happy you’re stretching comfortably around him so it won’t be painful.
When he slams in, your body seizes with pleasure, vision going hot and blurry as he stays buried within you for a moment before repeating the action. Slowly increasing his pace.
Your fingers easily slide into Nesta, and her hips buck, moaning breathlessly at the overwhelming pleasure. Through her body, and through the bond, also. She can feel every wave of pleasure from both of you. Every spark and contraction of lust.
Cassian growls sharply, pounding into you and you feel him twitch. Your cunt tightens around him in response, feeling the tension in your abdomen, the pressure of his hand bringing you to the brink of the world.
Cassian, Nesta.
Your canines graze her clit, fingers curling into a spot that has her fluttering around you as she screams. Release gushes from her and you squeeze your eyes shut as your jaw opens wide, nose pushing at her sensitive bud as her high splashes on your tongue. The overwhelming pleasure shoves you and Cassian over that impending edge, and he spurts deep inside of you, filling you deeper, deeper. Hot cum pumping you full.
White and black spots dance beneath your eyelids as your cunt flutters rapidly around his cock, taking everything he has and begging for more. On your tongue, Nesta’s bucking her hips, keeping you tight to her heat as she rides out her orgasm, pain and pleasure singing in equal measure as you fall into the spiral of euphoria, feeling their arousal and satisfaction spill into you from across the bonds.
No one speaks for a moment, coming down from the soaring heights, returning to your bodies. Just the soft sound of panting and the soothing scent of them surrounds you, and you bask in its glory.
“That good, dove?” Nesta asks softly, sitting upright as Cassian eases you off his cock, gripping your hips as he notes your trembling legs. “Yeah,” you pant, nodding your head as you peer at her through hooded eyes. “Very good.”
Her hand cups your cheek as they both guide you to be upright. Cassian’s the one who notes your bed first—it’s designed to only house you. “Let’s get you into our rooms, sweetheart. Unless you want to go another round?” His lips graze your neck and your breath hitches. Even with the pulsing need that’s thrumming beneath your skin, you’re unaccustomed to sex, and you need to rest. You’ll pass out if you’re pushed through another round.
You manage to wearily shake your head. “Can we…” you pant, slumping slightly. “I think I’m going…to…” Your eyes slide shut, barely remembering to fall backward into Cassian before your legs are giving out, a sigh rushing from your lips as his sturdy warmth envelops you—muscled and powerful arms wrapping securely around your waist; over your front.
“Easy there,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair before he’s lifting you up and making the journey down the corridor to their bed chambers. Nesta follows behind, murmuring softly to you, making sure you’re okay. You hardly manage some quiet apologies that you can’t satisfy them for longer, but she waves you off with a panty-dropping grin, saying once you’re rested they can start up again—if you’d like.
You manage a drowsy nod and a subdued smile, before you feel yourself being carefully set in the centre of a large bed. It’s second nature to seek out warmth when Cassian pulls away, so you manage to burrow your way under their bedcovers that smell of the two of them. The sheets are crisp and clean, but contain Cassian’s rugged, masculine scent, mixed with Nesta’s distinctive but slightly softer one.
You don’t realise your eyes are watering until your vision clears. You hastily push the tears of comfort away, nestling further into their scents.
It’s not long before they’re joining you, and it must be a mutual need, because despite the expanse of the bed, you’re all crowded in the centre. A tangle of arms and legs and wings as you slot perfectly against one another.
So perfect. So content.
Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb
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heartfullofleeches · 2 years
Text
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Supernatutral Yandere Harem x GN reader
Word count: 1k
Warning; swearing
/1/2/3/
“Honey, what are you doing?”
“Quiet, Sharon. It’s happening again.”
-
With time, you had reluctantly grown used to all the new members of your household. As a break for your dwelling sanity, the latest addition wasn’t as clingy as the others. Though they gave the occasion stare and more of your belongings had gone missing than ever before, the reaper kept to themselves for the most part. With their distance and the fact they save your life; you didn’t mind them as much. Plus they had a literal hold of your heart, but you tried not to think about that as much. As an added bonus, they didn’t try to take over your bed like Alasdair and Baron had; instead choosing the couch as their makeshift bed. This wasn’t much of a problem… until you happened to need a place to sit down or lost something. 
“Shit… where are my keys.” 
You mutter in frustration as you search your dresser for your house keys, opening one of its drawers to check there. After failing to wake up due to some mysterious force, you now had to rush to get ready for work. Said force was still half asleep in your bed, arms wrapped around your pillow and occupying the space that you once did. 
“Baron, did you take my keys again?”
He shakes his head, burying his face further into the pillow. “No… but maybe that means you should just stay home today.”
“Not happening.” You hear him whine after you as you exit the room, heading towards the kitchen where the smell of toast and brewed coffee hit you in the face. Alasdair sat at the table, a plate across from him and a cup in his hand. 
“Good morning, Y/n.”
“Have you seen my keys?”
“No, I haven’t. Coffee?”
You take the cup and a small sip with it, immediately handing it back to him. It was black, and you didn’t even have a coffee maker to begin with. He mouths the rim where your lips once where as you rush from the room and onto the next.
The grim reaper was lying on the couch as always, curried around a pillow with your shirt as its cover. 
Most people would freak out seeing a being from beyond the veil laying on their couch as would anyone who saw an angel or demon in the room prior, but when they looked like a tired college student and you’ve already had two other celestials in your home; the only thing that mattered was not being late to work again. 
“Hey. Wake up. I need to see if my keys are in the couch.”
They stir lightly, but their eyes remain shut.
“Maddox, come on I’m going to be late.”
That definitely catches their attention. They look up at you, slumber gone from their eyes. 
“What did you just say?”
“Maddox. That’s what I’ve been calling you in my head for the past few weeks. Can you move?”
Maddox slowly rises, a bubbly feeling arisen in their chest. They had never had a name before, only listed before as a mere number. It was one of the reasons they failed to give you their title until now. Names were more of a mortal thing, but upon being given one their opinion changed drastically. Their face felt slightly warm. Maddox – it’s nice.
“What the fuck?”
Baron stands at the entrance to the living, a mix of heartbreak and anger in his eyes.
You fish out your keys from the cushions. “Found them.”
“You gave them a name?”
You place the set in your pocket. “Yea, what about it?”
“What about it? What about me? I’ve asked you to give me one since we first met.”
“I needed something to call them by, and I’m pretty ninety percent sure giving them a name wouldn’t tie me to them, unlike whatever demon laws that exist.”
“I need to go. See you later.” You leave, despite Baron’s protests. He then turns his aggression on the property target, who had been sitting quietly until then.
“What makes you so damn special?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of our connection?” 
Baron's eyes narrow. “Are you trying to imply you’re Y/n’s favorite?”
“ I’m not implying anything, but.. I am in possession of their heart. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even be with them now. The sands of time are lonely, but we could have made due there.”
“I literally own their soul.”
“But they have yet to give you a command.. doesn’t that make the contract void?”
“Listen here motherfucker-"
“What is going on in here?” Alasdair enters from the kitchen, morning ruined by the overheard bickering. 
“Y/n gave them a name and hasn’t given me one yet, when I’m clearly the favorite.” 
Alasdair sighs. “That’s a stretch if I’ve ever heard one. Y/n cares about us all equally, which isn’t very much as it is. If anyone is their favorite it would be me. I’ve been with them their entire life.”
“I’m a better guardian than anyone. Noone has bothered them since I came around.”
“Weren’t you by their side when they got shot?” 
Everything goes silent. Baron stared blankly at the angel. His chest heaves. His jaws unhinge, growls seething through clenched teeth.
“You son of a-"
-
Your neighbor sits on his front porch, watching everything unfold through a crack in your curtains. Nobody believed him when he said your house was full of monsters and whenever he tried to take pictures they came out warped. So now, he was stuck with being the only one with knowledge of your roommates, and the only one who shared in the loss of sanity. 
-
You walk faster as you hear your windows rattling in their frames. Not your circus, not your monkeys – at least until you got home. You spot your neighbor in his chair by his steps. You wave slightly, he hurries inside.
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Text
i love exploring post-war!levi so much!! feel free to send me ideas for future segments of this series.
word count: 1.3k
notes: vague mentions of depression, suggestive themes
Until I See You Again (Ch. 2)
part 1 || part 3 (WIP)
It was another day.
Damn.
Levi peeled his eyelids open and was met with the dull, empty ceiling above his bed. He felt that familiar heavy feeling in his heart that made it impossible to breathe. The first few times he woke up this way, he thought it was one of his injuries from the explosion that had failed to heal properly. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that he realized that it was grief.
He didn’t want to wake up this way. He sighed to himself as he recalled the dream that he found himself having the night before. He didn’t commonly have dreams, even when he was able to fall asleep for an extended period of time. It was vivid. It almost felt real. 
He recalled feeling that weight lifting off his chest upon looking into your eyes. He recalled finally feeling like he was living again upon pressing his lips against yours. He recalled the warmth that spread through his body as he finally embraced you within his arms.
As he stared at the ceiling, contemplating whether he had the energy to truly get up and get moving in a life he couldn’t be bothered to care about, his eyes widened as he felt someone shuffle next to him. He quickly looked at the other side of the bed, his breath getting momentarily caught in this throat as he fixed his gaze upon you.
You were alive. He wasn’t alone. It wasn’t a dream. It was real.
He rolled onto his side and weaved his arm around your waist, gently pulling you in tightly against his chest. He planted some kisses at the back of your head, burying his face into you as he shut his eyes again. Although he already knew he wouldn’t be falling back asleep, he found contentment in holding you against him.
His eyes fluttered open again as he felt you shuffling against him as you slowly rose back into consciousness. 
“Morning,” he whispered to you, planting a small kiss on the top of your head.
You shuffled a bit more, squeezing yourself closer into him, vaguely mumbling something that somewhat sounded like a “good morning”. 
Levi waited for you to settle before gently squeezing his arm as he hugged you from behind. He had woken up so devastated, believing that what had happened the previous night was a dream. He still felt himself desperately holding onto you, with the scene of your death playing repeatedly in his head. He needed to make sure you were real. He wasn’t going to lose you again.
“Lev’,” you mumbled quietly. “I can’t breathe.”
He suddenly realized just how hard he was hugging you against him and immediately loosened up.
“Shit,” he whispered. “Sorry, _____.”
You rolled over onto your other side so that you were facing him, with him placing his arm back down on your waist upon facing you. You ran your fingers down the side of his cheek, looking straight into his eyes.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” you mumbled.
He pulled you into a gentle kiss, which you quickly returned with greater force, connecting your bodies together. His lips were soft against yours and you grabbed at the back of his head to pull him closer, kicking the blanket off of you, before quickly climbing on top of him. 
Your hands traveled up and down his chest, practically begging him to provide you with the intimacy that you had feared that you had lost forever. As your hands began to travel lower and lower, you felt his breath hitch in between your kisses as he grabbed at you to pull you closer against him.
The past few weeks involved the both of you waking up alone with heavy hearts with next to no motivation to start another miserable day—but now all that seemed to have been forgotten, at least in this moment. The only thing he could focus on was the liberating feeling of being able to feel you against him again.
~~~~~
The sun had long risen by the time you two finally got out of bed and began getting ready for the day. Levi stood in front of the mirror connected to his dresser, pulling on one of his dress shirts as he watched you disappear into the bathroom to shower.
He took a deep breath as he turned towards the mirror to button up his shirt, frowning when his eyes fell onto some of the scars that littered his body. Even seeing those smaller, subtler ones reminded him of the more obvious ones that actively impeded upon his own self-image or what he perceived to be his own quality of life. His right eye wasn’t functional, he had to get his right leg replaced, and he didn’t even want to start thinking about adjusting to life with his right hand only half-functioning. He had permanently changed and there was no denying that. 
He ran his fingers through his hair as those thoughts of inadequacy plagued his mind and threw his other thoughts around as if there was a storm brewing in his mind. He knew that he didn’t have to fight Titans anymore. He didn’t have to constantly throw himself into life or death scenarios. He didn’t have to be Humanity’s Strongest Soldier™ anymore, but he couldn’t move on. It was such a strong part of who he was for so long, and letting that go seemed like an impossible task. Even with you by his side, he couldn’t see himself being able to shed the burdens of the past. 
After making a light breakfast and taking some time to prepare yourself for the day, the two of you headed to your small apartment on the other side of town. Although you were expecting it, you immediately cringed as you essentially heard Levi’s face scrunch up in disgust upon entering your apartment. Keeping things organized was never your strong suit, but the weight of the past few weeks made it impossible to keep up with. If you were going through with moving in with him, you’d have to pay more active attention to your living habits.
With how many years that you’ve been moving around (whether it was flying through the sky with mobility gear or in this case, moving a bunch of boxes around), you would think that you’d know your limits and exactly how clumsy your movements could be. Both your hands were occupied as you carefully walked down the stairs, looking down to make sure your foot was meeting each step securely. Levi watched you warily as you unsteadily transported the boxes.
You had nearly made it all the way down the steps when your right foot got caught behind your left foot as you tried to step forward. By the time you’ve realized your mistake, you found yourself tumbling down the last few steps.
Levi immediately lunged forward to either catch you or stop your fall (or at least make sure you weren’t assaulted by the falling boxes). He didn’t manage either. His hands reached you half a second too late and all he could do was watch as your body hit the floor.
Cursing at himself, he immediately knelt down next to you as you gently rubbed your back in pain. You glanced at your hand that currently propped yourself up off the ground and saw that the friction from the carpet had left a scratch on your palm. You sat forward and lifted your hand, annoyed at yourself over your own clumsiness.
Levi extended his hand towards your other hand, grabbing it to help you get back on your feet.
“Thanks,” you said quietly, rubbing at your wounded hand. You looked up at him once you noticed that he didn’t respond. 
He was subtly frowning and his grip on your hand was tight, even after you had already gotten up. You could tell that he was tense and likely fuming inside. While he always scolded you for your recklessness or clumsiness in the past, now he just remained silent as he glanced down towards his wounded leg. He had never felt more useless.
“Chill out, Lev’,” you said as you gently rubbed the area around the scratch. “It’s a scratch, I’m fine.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled quietly. “I know.”
You saw that he had a dark look over him as he avoided eye contact with you. He slowly let go of your hand and you immediately grabbed onto his again, prompting him to look at you.
“It’s a little out of reach, though,” you said as you shot him a small smile. “Would you mind helping me patch it up?”
Levi knew what you were doing. He was never able to mask as well in front of you. Regardless, he gave you a silent nod and the two of you walked over to the kitchen table.
You quietly watched as he sanitized the scratch on your hand, slightly wincing at the stinging that came right after. You watched closely as he elegantly maneuvered the material around, despite missing his two primary fingers on his right hand. 
You silently chuckled to yourself as you added another item onto the never-ending list of Levi’s skillset. Of course he was ambidextrous.
He remained silent the entire time and a solemn look appeared on your face as you noticed him begin to drown underneath his own thoughts.
They were the same thoughts that plagued him every morning when he was forced to look into the mirror. He was not only different in terms of appearance. He was also different in terms of what he was able to do. If this was a year ago, he never would’ve failed in keeping you from falling. He used to be fast enough to react immediately to ambushes, but that was clearly no longer the case.
Levi Ackermann was consistently hailed as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier™, but now, he couldn’t even save his significant other from falling down the stairs. He felt pathetic. Everything was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. He had been careless in the explosion that had cost him his fingers and eye. He was slow to act when he had lost the use of his leg. He couldn’t reasonably blame anyone but himself.
“Hey,” you said as you poked him to get his attention.
His facial expression was neutral, but you were able to tell how tense his body was. He waved your hand away in an annoyed fashion. 
“What?” he asked quietly, frowning while still avoiding making eye contact with you.
“Talk to me,” you said, turning him towards you to force him to look at you. “Please.”
Levi clenched his jaw as he ran through his head the best way to verbalize the chaos that was running through his head. He was never one for words, but he found it especially difficult to explain himself, even in front of you.
After pausing for a while, he finally opened his mouth to speak again.
“Everything’s different. I’m different,” he whispered, as if he didn’t want you to even hear what he was saying. “And I know I’m selfish for finding myself longing for some elements of the past.”
It wasn’t that Levi missed the chaos, horror, and tragedy that was life on Paradis Island before the discovery of humanity outside the walls. People constantly died and life within the walls was suffocating. If it wasn’t for the Titans, many of his companions would still be alive. If it wasn’t for the Intelligent Titans, most of the Scouts that he had worked with would still be alive. He couldn’t reasonably say that he was nostalgic for that sort of life—but he was.
Although he hated it, he had accepted his title as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier™. Fighting was something that he was forced into his entire life. He was forced into learning how to fight above all else when Kenny had taken him in. He was forced to fight to survive in the Underground. He was forced to fight the Titans, especially after the death of his comrades from the Underground. He was forced to fight Zeke Jaeger, who was responsible for nearly decimating the entirety of the Scouts during the mission to retake Shiganshina. Levi Ackermann was always fighting. It was who he was. It was a core part of his identity.
All of that had been stripped away in an instant. He knew that he didn’t need to fight anymore, but he didn’t know who he was if he wasn’t a soldier. That’s why it felt impossible to adjust to whatever normal life he was supposed to be living now. 
“You might hate to hear this, Levi,” you said, bringing him back into the present.
He gave you a confused look, unsure of where you were going with your comment.
“I never saw you as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier,” you said, looking him straight in the eye. “You were always Levi first.”
When you saw him try to look away again, you tightened your grip on his shoulder.
“You were always this-” you said as you took a pause for a second, trying to figure out how to best verbalize your thoughts, “-this peculiar man, who I found strange because he was a clean freak despite growing up in shady conditions his entire life, who appeared aloof—and a little bit of a dick, if we’re being honest.”
You saw a small pout appear on his face at your last comment as he turned away.
“But he cared so much more than he let on,” you continued. “You were a man that always went out of his way to rescue me out of the stupidest of situations, and who placed the weight of the world on his own shoulders time and time again.”
You placed your hand on his right hand, prompting him to look back up at you.
“You don’t have to fight anymore,” you said quietly. “You don’t have to bear the weight of being Humanity’s Strongest Soldier anymore—at least, not alone.”
You shot him a small smile as he continued to frown at your statements.
“Tch,” he said before turning away, annoyed that you were able to make his problems feel smaller by being annoyingly logical. 
He placed his left hand on top of yours, looking back at you again.
“I’m not sure how I would’ve adjusted to this life without you,” he whispered to you, his facial features softening.
You glanced back at him with a sad look on your face.
“I’m not sure how I would’ve been able to either,” you replied, matching his volume. 
He leaned forward and gently placed his left hand on your cheek, pulling you into a soft kiss. You gently returned the kiss, allowing you two to connect in a brief, intimate moment.
“Come,” you whispered to him after pulling away, resting your forehead on his. “I’ll show you somewhere I hung out at a lot while you were gone.”
~~~~~
“Is this some ironic joke?” he asked, with disgust emanating from his voice.
You chuckled and slightly pushed on him for his dry humor. You had taken him to a public flower garden that you walked through during your time in Liberio. It had reminded you of the dynamic the two of you had when you first started seeing each other all those years ago.
You had a habit of bringing Levi flowers, or at least something “flower-y”, to symbolize your affection for him. He absolutely hated it. He’d hesitantly take it before giving you a weird look. You were insulted the first time, but you gradually moved towards beginning to give them to him as a joke.
He hated it each time and constantly complained about how the petals would make a mess or how annoying it would be to take care of it, but over the course of the first few months, he gradually began to openly accept them—although he made sure to still voice his discontent each time.
“I guess coming here reminded me of the few good times we were able to steal while within the walls,” you said with a shrug. “I felt those good feelings—no matter how fleeting, and it gave me at least a few minutes of escape from the grief, although the emptiness always quickly returned.”
Levi moved his eyes throughout the environment around him as he processed what you said. That was the same reason that he went to that dock every day at sunset. It reminded him of the time that he had spent with you and allowed him to briefly feel at peace, although it never lasted long.
You eventually sat down on a bench that was sitting under a tree, providing the two of you with some shade from the glaring sun. You pulled him down next to you, gently running your hand down his right cheek while looking into his eyes.
“You have no idea how scared I was of never being able to see this sight again,” you whispered as he placed a hand on your waist.
He gently pulled you into another kiss, placing his other hand on the nape of your neck to pull you closer, basking in the feeling of your soft lips on his and the warmth of your body against him.
“I’m sorry I never came back for you,” he mumbled.
“Don’t be,” you whispered before pulling him in to kiss him again. You smiled into the kiss upon the realization that he’d always be next to you and that all your fears from the past few months had dissipated.
After pulling away, you leaned against him, with your face buried into the crook of his neck. The grief that you had felt over all the people you had lost had not disappeared. You weren’t sure if it ever will, but you were at least able to bring the grief over losing him to an end. 
Levi took a deep breath as he echoed your thoughts. The grief regarding the loss of all of his comrades was a heavy weight that made it hard for him to initiate anything regarding the day—but at least now he had a source of support.
The world is cruel. That was the belief and lens that Levi looked through towards the world his entire life. Regular life in a world that he just realized existed seemed impossible, and there was no doubt that a part of him still felt that way. He’d wake up every day, with the challenge of having to shed off the identity and burden of being Humanity’s Strongest Soldier™—but with every passing day, especially with you by his side, waking up into a world filled with hope in which he could be a normal person that didn’t have to take on the weight of the world, felt just a little bit easier.
A/N: it took me an annoyingly long amount of time to write this. feel free to shoot me ideas for future segments of this little post-war series i now have going on uwu
tagging: @romantichomicide95 @lovolee3 @svftackerman @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @levis-squishy-cheeks @roseofdarknessblog @anviacker @aam1na
join my taglist!
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absolutebl · 1 year
Text
10 BLs where the Main Couple has NO Prior History
Or at least, very very little of it. The opposite of the very popular LTP (long term pining). 
This post in response to a question posed by the most excellent @luuhecia​ who asked: Soooo here's my plea: do you have any recommendations of shows where the people involved have no previous history?
In other words we get to watch them meet and fall in love with no prior history on either side. So I eliminated those were there was a made crush even if only recently (e.g. Light on Me, Takara & Amagi). 
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1. Seven Days
They know of each other but just in a normal high school way. No pining. The story is basically about the 7 days it takes them to fall in love. 
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2. Color Rush
They are destined for each other but they have never met before. 
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3. Semantic Error 
In fact, part of the premise is a “hunt for the unknown boy who made him fail to graduate.” 
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4. To My Star 
They have a couple of meet cutes, accidentally shack up together. 
There are actually a TON from Korea. 
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5. Addicted 
The new kid in high school. They have a family connection (it turns out) but they didn’t know each other. 
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6. Restart After Come Back Home
We see them meet for the first time and then go on from there.
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7. HIStory 2: Crossing the Line 
They meet by crashing into each other because... Taiwan. 
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8. My Tooth Your Love 
Just so cute. 
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9. Eclipse
There are a lot of good ones from Thailand but I chose this because it’s part of the plot, how they know nothing about each other. 
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10. Love by Chance 
Just the greatest meet cute ever. 
NEW ENTRY
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11. The Eighth Sense
Actually uses the fact that the DO NOT have prior history with each other as a plot point and for character development. It’s addressed directly ind dialogue. Very nicely done! 
Others that didn’t make my top 10 but still have no prior pining
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China 
Advance Bravely 
Capture Lover
My Esports Genius Brother - love at first sight 
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Japan
Candy Color Paradox 
Given - love at first sight 
His the series  - love at first sight 
Senpai This Can’t Be Love (he has a crush on him but they haven’t actually met each other) 
Silhouette of Your Voice
Kieta Hatsukoi
My Beautiful Man 
Mr Unlucky - love at first sight 
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Korea 
Kissable Lips - fated mates
Mr Heart
My Sweet Dear 
Love Class 
Behind Cut 
Shoulder to Cry On 
The Lover - cohabitation 
Unintentional Love Story 
Tasty Florida - love at first sight 
 Roommates of 304 
All the Liquors
Blueming
New Employee 
Nobleman Ryus Wedding 
Oh Boarding House 
Ocean Likes Me 
Tinted With You 
Wish You - love at first sight 
You Make Me Dance  
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The Philippines 
Like in the Movies
My Day 
Rainbow Prince 
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Taiwan 
Because of You 
Be Loved in House I Do
Craving You - love at first sight 
HIStory 2: Right or Wrong 
See You After Quarantine? 
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Vietnam
Hay Rival I Love You 
My Lascivious Boss - one night stand
Nation’s Brother - one night stand
Want to See You 
You Are Ma Boy
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Thailand
(not all are chronicled, there’s too many, main couples only) 
Ai Long Nhai - love at first sight 
Bite Me
Between Us - one night stand 
Coffee Melody
Love Mechanics - one night stand  
Ghost Host Ghost House
Gen Y - love at first sight 
KinnPorsche (family connection but they don’t know about it) 
La Cuisine 
Tale of 1000 Stars - Well there is the heart connection but it’s not quite the same thing
Love in the Air 
Love Area 
My Engineer 
Meow Ears Up 
Moonlight Chicken - one night stand 
My Ride - GREAT example of well developed meet cute and then romance 
Never Let Me Go
Not Me - erm, it’s complicated 
Oh My Sunshine Night 
Oxygen - love at first sight 
Paint with Love
Puppy Honey 
Siew Sum Noi
Something in My Room 
Top Secret Together 
TharnType 
Tuxedo 
Unforgotten Night - One Night Stand 
Vice Versa 
What Zabb Man 
YYY 
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This post as of April 2023, not responsible of BLs that fit this criteria after that date. But feel free to leave a comment or repost with more additions. 
(source)
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gendervapor14 · 5 months
Note
(update from previous ask — gotta send numbers for each hang on)
2, 12, 18, and 21 for crocodile!! and 2, 22, and 25 for doffy ✨
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(here is the previous ask)
sweating and trembling. you want ME to answer things about crocodile and doflamingo??? okay let's do this
CROCODILE
2. Favorite canon thing about this character?
i love how he punches holes through his newspapers with his hook. so uncalled for. you could totally just balance the pages between the curve and point but no, he has zero chill, he's gonna fuck up this newspaper so no one else can read it afterwards.
12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?
i think he has a special interest/connection with animals. a lot of animals feature in baroque works, especially his lovely bananawanis. animals are easy to trust and difficult to hold grudges against, so maybe their presence gives him some peace of mind? he seems to have no issues disposing of his human agents if they fail him, but i like to think he's more forgiving with animals.
18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?
i'm a sucker for a devoted second-hand, (cough cough vergo) so i'm gonna go ahead and say daz bones and crocodile. i love how daz seems to be the exception to his cruel-streak. they're both there for each other and it's warms my heart. also gonna rec this fic real quick because the daz & croc relationship is so good...
21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?
oh. this is tough. in general i enjoy crocodile's ability to deadpan his way through a comedic situation? especially since he's frequently in the company of rosinante when i write him XD so yeah i enjoy making him very serious or slightly annoyed when there's some sort of ridiculous situation. something i don't like is how i never quite feel like i have a grasp on his character 😵 croc i need a backstory for you so badly... it's killing me...
DOFLAMINGO
2. Favorite canon thing about this character?
so many things. i think for now, i'll say my favorite thing is how he seems to love sitting incorrectly. in warlord meetings, he's always got his ass perched on the back part of the chair, and his feet are in the seat. provided he isn't sitting on the table!! he likes to sit on those too. also people. loves to sit on people. think he used king riku as a footstool at one point.
22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?
i'm actually really picky about how doflamingo is written. i don't read much about him unless i'm familiar with the writer. i'm not a huge fan of the manic-pixie-girl coked-up-to-the-moon mingo (although i do think that's a funny style at times) also not a fan of the stories where he's just used as The Big Bad to make someone (law) suffer for the sake of whump. i love fics where he's got some crackhead energy, but not TOO much, yknow. he's quite intelligent and very diligent with his schemes, so a lot of the more comedic/brutal takes on his character make his intelligence less believable.
25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?
OH i love this question. my first impression was the warlord meeting i think? i was fascinated. loved his character design (rip black V neck shirt. why couldn't he wear that for dressrosa. the white open shirt was Not doing him any favors) i thought he was just gonna be some Quirky crazy bastard, and he is! but when i saw dressrosa, specifically the backstory at spider miles, my brain opened up. his backstory, the brother trauma, how he spent his early life... it wasn't what i was expecting and i found him much more compelling with all that depth. that's probably why i tend to write him like more of a sleazy business man, spider miles mingo stuck in my brain XD
thank you for these questions!! ♥ so much good thinking for the sleepy brain muscles XD
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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 2 months
Note
hey,
I wanted to ask about the Silver Dragon story, specifically the relationship between Arianwyn and Aemond.
I get this impression Aemond kinda puts Aria on a pedestal of sorts. Would it be fair to characterize it as such, especially given what he did following the events of Storms End?
I ask cause I'm writing a similar relationship between Aemond and an OC in my story (which also coincidently kinda places Daemon in place of villian of the story) and that's more or less the angle I got going.
Oh boy, I've thought hard about this one. Answer is under the cut so as it contains Silver Dragon spoilers.
"Putting her on a pedestal" doesn't feel quite like the right phrase to me. Not entirely sure why.
To understand their relationship, we have to acknowledge that their identities are inextricably tied to each other. After all, they met when Aria was ~3 months old and Aemond was ~9 months old. They are each other's counterparts - two parts of the same whole. Up until their separation after the Driftmark incident, they literally had no memories where the other was not there. So losing that lifelong connection that literally played a part in defining who they were was devastating.
Aria dealt with that loss by clinging onto the connections she still had (i.e. Brynna, Emrys, and her guards), and the letters Aemond and the others back in KL sent to her. She never lost hope that somehow, she would get back to the people she loved and the place she called her home. In short, she was optimistic.
Aemond dealt with the situation in two ways. First, by channeling all his feelings into one concentrated well of anger, directed solely at Daemon. After Aria was gone, he redoubled his focus into his martial training not only to fulfill his role as the second son of the king, but because he wanted to be able to defeat Daemon and punish him for everything he did to Aria and for taking her away from him. Unlike Aria, he fell into a vengeful pessimism. With one exception...
Realizing he loved Aria solidified his purpose of protecting her and saving her from her father. In all the fairy tales they read, it was the duty of the prince or knight to protect his lady, and he took that to heart from childhood, as y'all will see in the new chapter 2 (coming soon!). After Driftmark, when Aria not only got taken from him, but was actually injured, he felt like he failed her and his purpose. So while most of his love for Aria was channeled into longing for her and imagining what she would be like when she either returned or was rescued, it also fed into his anger and desire for vengeance.
Unfortunately, that desire didn't go away when she returned, thanks to some nasty things Daemon did and said. Aemond is very much a "I will destroy everything in the world if that's what I have to do to keep you safe" kind of partner.
So, he doesn't put Aria on a pedestal so much as he sees her as his purpose - his reason for basically everything he does.
And when we add in his own insecurities and the way he thinks of himself, that's where his reverence of her goodness starts to come in. After Driftmark, he did start to think of himself as a villain and a monster, thanks to the opinions of the court that he overheard, the way his father treated him, and his own interpretation of his emotions. But again thanks to the fairy tales, he believes that a monster that protects goodness can eventually find goodness for itself.
This is also kind of a result of him basically being raised by Criston Cole, who does the same thing with Alicent. They take it upon themselves to get their hands dirty in order to preserve the cleanness/goodness of their ladies - Alicent and Aria.
After Driftmark, Aemond feels so dirty and monstrous that he thinks even being with him will taint Aria's goodness. But she's convinced him (mostly) that he can still be redeemed, and if she believes it, he does too.
So I guess this could be called putting her on a pedestal, but I think a more accurate description is that she is his purpose. Did any of this make sense? I feel like it maybe didn't.
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smollangrycat · 1 year
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Mama Bear
Request by @kitkat27
Maybe some fluff between Alue'k and Mama bear Neytiri ? (Like a clingy Alue'k wanting her Mama for a day, refusing Jake and siblings etc ?)
Note - Aww 🥹, Luv this idea made my heart melt Alue’k loves her mama and I’m so exited to share some HC’s with you🥰 Sorry, there’s also a note at the end 🫣
Prt1 Prt2
So let’s get one thing straight, Alue’k loves her mama. She enjoys just silently siting in her company or being around her in general. When Alue’k was little (Well littler) she would seek out her mama so she could cuddle and sit in her lap as Neytiri comfortingly scratched at her scalp or braided her hair. Neytiri is always in wonder of Alue’ks connection with the fauna and flora of Pandora listing carefully as her daughter regales her with stories of her adventures with Tonôwa. Neytiri is also acutely aware that Alue’k is the child that is most likely to send her to an early grave. She just so dam clumsy. The word clumsy translates to pìsaw in Na’vi, Neytiri sometimes uses pìsawite as a nickname for one of her most accedent prone children. It’s all in good fun and she means no harm by it, Neytiri often uses it in an affectionate manner to help calm her daughter down if she upset because it never fails to make Alue’k laugh.
When Alue’k was little (1-5) she was very sickly so Jake and Neytiri would sit with her so they could comfort her. However sometimes their chiefly duties would require them to leave their daughter in the care of Mo’at.
This gave Neytiri the worst case of separation anxiety she’s probably ever had. She trusts her mother, she did truly however she just fears being away from her baby for longer than five minutes. This meant that baby Alue’k was a constant companion of Neytiris while she completed her chief tasks either always wrapped in her arms or sitting snuggly in a baby carrier attached to Neytiri.
As Alue’k became older she started to want to explore and play with her brothers and sister so while Neytiri swore the very idea was making her breath catch in her throat she trusted her daughter and her skills of self preservation (😬bad idea).
Alue’k fell from a rather tall branch in new home tree. She had tripped while playing a game with her sibling and down she went. No major injuries, a fractured collar bone some scraped and bruises - Jake and Neytiri almost died from a heart attack.
That injury was the very first semi-serious one Alue’k hade ever gotten. (we all know it won’t be her last) Alue’ks shoulder was rubbed with soothing cream and then bandaged so it could heal. It took a lot of convincing after that for Alue’k to be allowed out of sight from a parent or trusted adult. Alue’k loves spending time with her parents however some times it can be a little … suffocating? However little Alue’k was completely different, she would have days where all she wanted was to be in her mamas arms as Neytiri gentily rocked her back and forth, lulling her to sleep with soft sweet words. She would refuse to play with her siblings and cry when her father would take her out of her mothers arms. This lead to Neytiri hissing at him and snatching her baby back from his arms.   Sad Jake🥺 Alue’k was known in the village for being her parents shadow, always trailing after them or holding their hand as they walked around new home tree. Alue’k would often bring pretty flowers to her Mama and ask to have them braided in her hair, she would then ask Neytiri to do the same to her own so they could match. 
————————
Note - Hey! This was going to be super long for a Hc soooo instead it’s gunna have a part 2 as I was rlly inspired by this ask. As always hope you have a lovely day/night!! 🥰😊
Tag List
@mxyz-nex
@inutheangelheeangle
@abbersreads
@mashiromochi
@carolinemacher
@octavias-next-meat-bite
@sophiexoxo-lol
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void-thegod · 2 months
Text
When you have a invisible disability and you fail:
1. You're stupid
2. You're weak
3. You're gullible
4. You're a bad person
But it's never because you're disabled. And if you bring up the fact that you're disabled?
That's not an excuse.
Hm.
I don't know.
I think if I've had brain damage or am an amputee of some sort (I've had .. quite a few concussions actually) that I'm not going to function optimally
Would you question someone's ability to swim if they didn't have legs or were missing an arm?
Yeah. You'd be concerned about their ability.
But no. That doesn't mean they're an invalid. That doesn't mean they're incapable of doing wrong or anything else.
They will struggle more and they will experience the affects of that in various ways.
If we can accept abusers, people being plain ignorant, and bigots as people... why is it so hard to accept someone who is born differently?
This differently?
If you are brown, you know the sort of struggles and stress you have are on another level than a white person.
If you're a darker skin brown person it is more likely you will be treated worse than someone light skinned.
I was in a relationship with a black/indigenous woman. She was emotionally and physically abusive.
But I knew the type of shit she'd gone through
I saw how people treated us differently.
As the recipient of her abuse... I justified staying with her in a number of ways.
I'm not an angel. I'm capable of getting angry. Of yelling. I've done things I regret.
But I haven't physically harmed another person, yet.
The only times I've ever come close were in self defense
This is the sort of despicable person I am.
Only when pushed into a corner do I do desperate things. Desperate times, after all.
But that comes with its own pitfalls.
Being trans. Being male. Being brown (mixed/light). Being disabled.
People make all sorts of assumptions about you based on your behavior.
Rightly so. But if intent matters and outcome matters... then why have I been judged so harshly?
If I am being completely honest...
I think that is just what happens to weird people. People who have lost or never had the ability to connect with others because of their constitution.
Not even worse than other people.
I've met good people. Mediocre people. And real shit heads. And they all are capable of great kindness and great maliciousness - depending upon the circumstances.
But generally, the worst people are bigoted, ignorant, and hateful. They love drama. They like to see people in pain, to manipulate, and to have power. They are so desperate to be successful or at least better than others that they don't think twice.
If they think twice it is because their fear or reason actually over rules them. Or because they were made to learn. And even then? They become worse people.
Why? Why am I mentioning all this?
Because all people are made from this world, one way or another. Either a part of it or in revolt against it.
It creates illness of all sorts - of the body, mind, and spirit/heart. And that affects everything else.
How is anyone to properly survive this without being corrupted? Without being harmed or without harming?
You cannot.
But. I think we can ... be more discerning.
There is no reason in 2024 that we should still be struggling with the things we are.
People should know the difference between someone like Trump and someone like Biden
Between someone who is disabled and hurt and struggling
And someone who is disabled and hurt and willingly/maliciously hurting others
They shouldn't be seen as equal by any stretch of the imagination.
Likewise the way that we live our lives...
Between the rich and the poor. The why and how of it... there should be no confusion. About anything. About what should be done.
Same with our government.
The home of the brave? The land of the free?
The most brave and free of us are the most oppressed. And I mean "free" in the sense of not being so bound by societal norms.
Of course. Many of us don't have a choice. One way or another. Or the choices are few and shitty.
So.
What now?
Keep doing wrong? Keep seeing wrong?
...
I can't keep being around people like that.
Guess I'll die trying to escape this Hell.
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jaggededges123 · 10 months
Text
i’ve only very minimally shaped this up for tumblr (replaced the names properly because there aren’t small character limits, capitalized sentences, etc), but it’s mostly just as is from twitter, so please don’t mind any minor errors. i hope you enjoy it! the whole ficlet is under the cut so it’s easy to skip if it’s not your bag <3
(oh, and i’ll probably shape this up even more and throw it on ao3 at some point but uh, who knows when that will be? not me!!)
niecest (though it can be read as nie bros, soulmates can be platonic!), soulmates, angst + canon major character death, hurt no comfort
AU where you see in black in white if 1) you’ve never met your soulmate or 2) your soulmate is dead, but if you know your soulmate and they’re alive, then you see in color.
Anyway, Nie Huaisang who’s never seen in black and white, and Nie Mingjue who suddenly got color vision in his parents’ bedroom when he was six years old, promptly freaked out at the change, and all of the adults in the room told him to keep it under wraps but also to always make sure to take the best care of his new didi he could manage.
As time goes on, the Nie brothers live freely in a colorful world that most of their peers can’t fully see yet, but then Nie-zongzhu dies and Nie Mingjue has to take over. He remembers what his parents told him but… sometimes there are compromises that have to be made. Nie Mingjue is the leader of the whole sect now, and he’s responsible for all of them, not just Nie Huaisang. They drift apart… and for a while, Nie Mingjue is content to just let his didi do whatever he wants, painting and birds and fans. frivolous things.
But… taking care of people doesn’t just mean letting them do whatever they want all the time, and Nie Mingjue can use his connections to the Lan sect heir to secure Nie Huaisang a spot at the Cloud Recesses to be tutored by Lan Qiren. So off Nie Huaisang goes.
And the thing is, when you try to do something to help someone, and they don’t take it seriously, it can be really frustrating. Even more so if it’s your soulmate and you really, really feel like they should be able to understand you on a fundamental level.
So… Nie Mingjue doesn’t take it very well when Nie Huaisang fails, is what I’m saying. Their relationship gets strained, even if Nie Mingjue is still trying to be a good brother, sect leader, soulmate. He’s just got way too much on his plate, and he doesn’t know which parts are most important.
And maybe because Nie Huaisang was born into it and has never known anything else, he takes for granted what they’re supposed to have. Maybe he doesn’t even know who his soulmate is.
Has anyone even given Nie Huaisang a lecture on this that he would understand, already seeing in color?
The war happens, and Nie Mingjue takes great comfort in his crystal clear color vision the entire time. He made a good choice, sending Nie Huaisang away from danger.
Nie Huaisang’s not good enough with a saber to be of use where Nie Mingjue is, anyway.
Anyway, after the war… it’s not the same all over again. Nie Mingjue is angrier, again, and he can feel himself dying even though he doesn’t want to believe it. It’s really only a matter of time before he qi deviates so badly that he’s gone permanently.
And of course he’s worried—soon he won’t be around to protect Nie Huaisang, at all.
Their relationship gets worse—in a fit of rage, desperation, and fear, Nie Mingjue burns all of the trinkets he’d encouraged earlier in life. Those things won’t help Nie Huaisang now. They won’t protect him from anyone who might harm him.
Nie Huaisang doesn’t speak to him, for nearly two months.
It breaks Nie Mingjue’s heart.
And then, the last thing he ever sees is Nie Huaisang’s injured arm, fear and horror on his face, calling out to Nie Mingjue that it’s okay, that Nie Huaisang’s there, and behind him the man Nie Mingjue had taken under his wing and now feared what he might do to his soulmate, his family, left behind without Nie Mingjue’s protection.
The moment Nie Mingjue slumps in Nie Huaisang’s arms is the first time he’s ever seen in black and white. He never really knew what it meant, that people who met their soulmate saw things differently.
He does now, because he’s lost his.
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thatunusualwriter · 1 year
Text
𝙲𝚘𝙳 𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚡 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚗! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 1
"𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝔾𝕠𝕥 𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕄𝕪 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝔾𝕚𝕧𝕖"
Character pairing: (CoD) Simon "Ghost" Riley x Short!Chubby!Reader (is gendered as a "she/her" throughout the story, and has subtly pointed out details about her appearance.)
Summary: After a long time Y/N's best bud, Johnny MacTavish, returns home but fails to inform her some folks will be tagging along, so her anxious ass has to deal with that and one of Johnny's friends isn't exactly a people-person as she'll come to learn. 
Warnings: Vulgar language, talking about mortician profession, sadism, dark humor, slow burn, Reader has social anxiety, subtle description of DID for Simon. 
A Free-form fic! Not exactly connected to the game's story. First time ever writing this kind of stuff, pls be kind. :D
Enjoy! Tell me if you want part 2 where things could be more spicy, who knows.
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.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆.⛓🖤🔪💀⛓.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆.
Tonight is the night, alright!
The hype vibrated from head to toe in her body, it has been like that for a week and Y/N had not bothered to contain it either. Her best bud, an old friend, finally could pay a visit — for how long, she had no idea. And thank God Johnny had called a week ahead. Y/N's introverted, anxiety-strung heart and brain could prepare for socializing.
The pep talks added little to no encouragement while she prepared to look just as comfy as acceptable between people with her signature dress code. But as long as one of any of her friends are around she didn't have to be that self-conscious with how she looked, she supposed, being told many times by each of them that she was loved for being who she is. And she silently took their words to her affection-overflown-heart.
Y/N, being the minimalist that she is, used very subtle make-up just to cover the pimples, mascara, and nude eyeshadow to bring out her eyes and put on her favorite outfit that shouldn't magnetize too much attention but it's her personality that could beam with broadness of confidence when around people she loves and it's what always made her stand out in the crowd. Little did she know about that.
She kept wondering if Johnny changed a lot, that Irish lass donkey she knew might not be the same after what he must have gone through in the military, yet deep down she knows it might be the case but she'll still love her friend no matter what. And knew she would be a shitty friend if she wouldn't even consider embracing the new him. 
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆.⛓🖤🔪💀⛓.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆.
"Alright, okay. I'm good. All good, all set..." Y/N whipped a fleeting look at her reflection, leaning against a bathroom sink with tense shoulders.
"We are still friends and I will act like there wasn't almost a 10-year separation, like back in the old days," she ordered at herself, sighing and dabbing with the pad of her finger at the uneven makeup foundation she came across under the soft light with a grunt of annoyance.
Then she stopped her finger-patting altogether and stared into her own eyes in a moment of silence. "10. Years."
"Holy fucking saint Maria—" Y/N snorted in disbelief with her blurting, self-commenting since there was no one else she could talk to currently.
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆.⛓🖤🔪💀⛓.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆.
It was fifteen minutes before 9 pm, a time they agreed on to meet, Y/N fancies going a bit earlier just to be safe, you never know what could happen on the way to your destination. She saw a few stray cats on the way and some came close for a pat, some just threw an irked glare but she found those kitties cute anyways. It made her all giddy, excited to share this moment with her friend once settling down. While being more of a dog person, Johnny not even once said her cat obsession ramblings bothered him, listened, and nodded sympathetically.
The bar she was invited to was one of those she could call her kindergarten. When being a little gremlin, Y/N's parents liked to go there for socializing with their friends and some conveniently had children too so she always was under a watchful eye, the owner knew her very well and enjoyed it when she stopped by.
But the contrast of her being around people versus her extroverted family, as she grew she became rather a loner for needed peace and only visited when being tugged along by friend/s, very few understood her. Especially with the profession she chose.
Thomas, the bar owner, respected that, he's one of those laid-back uncles for every fun. But he does very much miss the rowdiness of the tiny beastie Y/N used to be, only keeps it to himself.
"Aaaalrighty! Almost there." Y/N smiled, cheering in her thoughts with excitement, eyes squinting at the first window of the building from across the street.
Doesn't look like a busy day inside. It's Thursday, too.
Y/N marched inside silently, when noticing not much of people were around, especially unfamiliar faces, she immediately beamed when setting her eyes on a man behind the bar's counter which she approached with a grin.
"Tomb,"
Thomas looked up, droopy eyes under bushy brows gave a spark of joy as he mustered a little smile.
"Beastie,"
Ah, sweet, sweet nicknames.
"You doing good?" Y/N leaned against the countertop's wooden edge with her palms and the back of her hands squished against her chest.
"Same old, same old. You decided to leave yer cave on your own?" Thomas pulled out a beer seidel from a sink and began to scrub it, preparing it ahead. 
With a coy smile tugging at the corners of her lips, she waltzed to the other side of the counter, following one gruff voice from around the corner where the booth room. "Nope. I'm not that bat-shit crazy. But I am seeing an old bro."
Thomas smirked under his mustache, head bobbing a curt nod. "Have fun, kiddo."
With a nod, Y/N slipped into the wide room. Speak of the Scottish devil and he shall appear.
Johnny MacTavish, a burly man stood in front of one booth, talking to someone who maybe stopped him when he was passing by them. Y/N thought she would never see the man give in to her ideas when it came to haircuts, he has a mohawk, a short one but still, it was a fucking mohawk. And Johnny wore it so fucking well while at the same time looking dopey as always, she used to tell him it's the shape of his face.
Now, not to throw herself under the bus so early but he grew — maybe a few inches, a foot? — since she last saw him. And she obviously notices the difference when her metabolism stopped a long time ago to reach that sweet 4'12, life just isn't fair.
Y/N was taken aback, he still had his friendly odor about him but now there was... also maturity. He obviously went through some shit. And she hesitated. How should she approach him? "Fuck! Didn't plan ahead!"
Johnny unconsciously chose for her, he turned with his lean torso and crossed hands, looked at her fiddling with a strap of her shoulder bag on the spot, then turned fully and marched at her with open arms made of broad muscle earned by hard work.
His blue orbs held hers welcomingly, his laugh is hearty. "Y/N!!"
That's all the consent she needed to be sprinting towards his hug and managed to wrap her short arms around his torso while he laid around her upper back, over her shoulders.
"Heya, John!" Y/N grinned against his shoulder happily. "Johhny-booooyye!" she sang with affection.
Johnny snorted, enjoying himself in the softest warmth he hadn't felt for 10 years. When he let go, he checked Y/N from her toes to her face and an impish grin pulled up on his lips. "Lass, ya seem to be shrinking than growing."
His statement earned him a punch just below his ribs, it was gentle but he held that spot as if he'd been stabbed and it made Y/N laugh while calling him childish and a donkey.
"Ooh, you big baby, if I made it hurt bad ya wouldn't even be standing by now!" Y/N boasted with a sadistic smirk that always siblings secretly shoot at one another to make the fun more thrilling with the silent threat.
Both knew it was meant to be took lightly, it's just joking around, but a couple in a booth they stood next to shifted uncomfortably and Y/N took pity on them and nudged Johnny to go to his table, his arm lifted to rest over her shoulder and she took it as a side-hug so she snuggled closer of course.
They passed by two empty booths. Two. And they are walking towards that one he stood by just a moment ago.
Oh no... 
The inkling perked up her senses with the alarms already going off and the uneasiness arose when they headed closer and she saw a man or... two?
Shit— don't tell me.. No, no no...!
It's four people.
Four. fucking. strangers. that started at Y/N in curious silence. They looked at her like she has been expected. Great. Because she didn't expect them. 
MacFucking betrayal!!
"Who's this MacTavish?" someone asked.
Y/N's anxiety spiked and if she could she'd be the living embodiment of steam, vaporing away thanks to the sudden overheating and she began to sweat. Her little hand's fingers in the middle of her traitorous' friend's back twitched and cramped in a cupping shape, ready to claw, Johnny felt that slight poke and — tried to — gave his best comforting, tiny squeeze on her shoulder. It was good enough grounding to keep her from sprinting away.
All the beaming confidence she had carried from moments ago disappeared with a snap of fingers. Sudden anger began to bubble inside her ribcage so she took long, soft breaths and concentrated on those while looking around. 
Her eyes swiped over the figures so quickly she couldn't register even the tiniest detail on each individual and looked at the table in front of her instead.
These people are military soldiers, so of course they could see her stress-strained body language and shy fumbling with her digits. Johnny wanted to apologize that his team joining was a quickly made decision he didn't see coming and forgot to call her when his captain wanted quick info about his friend before he could leave the table and then there she was. 
"Guys, this lass is Y/N L/N. My good ol' friend, and don't let this cute face fool ya, it's just a camouflage." Johnny tried to encourage everyone from keeping silent, especially his old friend.
"Nooooo, no, no, nooo, I don't wanna meet new people! I'm not mentally prepared for that!! God!! Johnny!! No—" 
A man, at the seat's edge, shifted and turned to properly face her and his extended hand appeared in her tunneled view. Y/N hastily met the gaze of the one the arm belonged to, out of politeness. Her left arm for no reason whatsoever wanted to reach back for his hand but she quickly and clumsily switched it with her right one and shook his hand properly. 
And here this old man worried she could be a threat.
... Little did he know... 
"John Price, a pleasure to meet ya in person, miss." The old man chuckled, his short beard and mustache showing it clear as day that he didn't mock her, wrinkles formed around his tired eyes as he smiled with amusement and it somehow eased Y/N's nerves so she meekly smiled back.
Now that she had a better look at him, and an excuse for her to look, she noted he was not that intimidating. Strict-looking, yes. She almost saw her father. By her impression, he looks like a hard-working person with a lot on his shoulders, a burden not meant for sharing.
"I'm Soap's captain, and this is the rest of my crew." John turned towards his said people and began to motion to them one by one as if fearing they wouldn't introduce themselves politely enough. This could have been the case for some of them. But when he said "my crew", Y/N knew that he was a proud papa, and it radiated off of him. 
Something else John said grabbed her full attention and she frowned ever-so-slightly as she thought it over.
"... "Soap"?" Y/N parroted, her confusion discreetly traveling up to her friend.
Johnny pursed his thin lips back before clearing his throat, not meeting her gaze. "That's what they call me. At work," he added the last part quickly.
Y/N's expression suddenly matched Johnny's when she turned her head back to look at the table, but the tugging upwards corners of her lips gave her away as well as her sucking in a breath.
"Dun't."
Scrunching her eyes shut, she allowed a soft, throaty snicker or two to escape past her sealed lips. Turning her head away and covering her mouth with the back of her hand to shield her face, she managed to giggly chant out: "Sorry, sorry... Sorry." she wasn't really sorry.
Then, Y/N whipped her head to face him, an impish grin on her face. "Do they call you like that because of that...?" she subtly hinted and didn't notice how those people around the table leaned in to hear.
"Classified, ya gremlin." Johnny growled, but not menacingly, not at his old friend at last, his coworkers got a nasty glare and everyone laughed. 
Y/N from the rush looked at those five people, who might be men, every individual had a specific aura about them. Every one of them was different, looked different, laughed differently, and didn't give off that vibe of a bad person. Only you'd think that an odd bunch like them wouldn't get along with the screaming contrasts between them.
When she caught herself looking up and down from the shortest to the tallest guy there she flushed and glanced away before someone would notice, but had an inkling at last one of them had noticed.
She had no idea how she got sat down next to this guy named Rudolfo Parra, he introduced himself right away and they shook hands, Johnny sat at the edge of the booth's seat, blocking her way out. No matter how much she tried to scoot not to be squished against both men with her and their size was a bit difficult, her anxiety had it easier when a certain man with a mouth, mask with a skeleton's jaw print, and hoodie for shadows to coat over his face sat right in front of her across the table, hence the reason for his piercing stare.
He was tall, taller than the others, and, by the looks of it, broad too and he made Y/N feel so small that she was beginning to think his cold stare began to tell her she was not welcome at their table. And, hell, if she wouldn't have her soul so small inside her she would've asked him to look away or ask what's his problem. But there was no desire for her vocals to start working now, her tongue as if swallowed, she didn't know what to say. Maybe she leaves the boys to take the lead this time in her life. So she just avoided his gaze altogether since she doesn't have to, yet. 
Y/N's attention focused on the next introducing man.
"Alejandro Vargas," the man smiled and she returned it genuinely back, almost smiling from ear to ear and reaching to shake his hand as well. "And, apologies if this is rude to ask, but could you tell us how did you and Soap meet?"
Y/N's shoulders eased and she comfortably leaned back against the seat's leather head rolls. "Ahhh, it's a boring story," she began, not expecting the hundred percent of attention she got by that and it made her shoulders shrink a bit on reflex. "He needed a roommate and I needed a place to stay at. Really nothing juicy."
Johnny erupted in hearty laughter next to her, starting to feel the nostalgia. "It was relatively okay at the start until we started butting heads—"
Y/N had toned her friend out when thoughts with inner voices pulled her in for an urgent chat in her brain. The masked guy was silent and either stared or kept looking at his glass of whiskey, it unnerved her that the introductions seemed to end with Alejandro, and wondered if the mysterious guy felt just as awkward as her. It's obvious that no one will take pity on them and introduces the guy for his sake, he could be more anxious about strangers than she is, it's a theory. Y/N amid Johnny's storytelling took the leash of confidence and after a moment of hesitance made her move, reaching her little hand out across the table between the glasses with alcohol towards that man as elegantly as she could, she has been enough of a klutz for one day.
Her friendly smile was genuine, and soft, and reached her eyes. That's what the masked guy saw when his cautious, dark orbs of hazelnut traveled from his drink to her hand, and then her face. And when she noticed the tiredness she felt a little concerned, if he is alright or looked like this 24/7?
He began to be unsure how to react towards this stranger that his comrade, military brother, described as the "nicest soul that ever walked on Earth.". He was wary and was quite obviously showing it, but she returned it with politeness he couldn't tell if it was for Johnny's sake or just because she wanted to know him.
"Uhm, hi, uh...?" Y/N finally found her voice and tried to keep it low so it wouldn't grab much attention on those two now, fortunately, the other men let them be.
But it seemed the world around just ceased to be, it was just her and him and although coldness had radiated off of him she tried her best to stand tall and face it with her warmth. They don't have to be friends, but it is not like there has to be some bad blood between them either.
When she thought, after the long silence, that the guy won't answer her, Y/N was about to take her stretched arm back until his big and gloved hand grabbed onto hers. It was comical to see, he was twice as big in comparison and it looked like her hand could be swallowed into the black cotton gloves with a print of skeleton digits. 
It was startling, and she nearly yelped at the sudden contact. Instead, Y/N found calmness in staring at their hands in awe, and although it seemed he forced himself to this touch, he kept being expressionless. But the heat of her palm was soothing, although he has gloves his skin underneath was still cold which he didn't think much of until now.
"Ghost." his voice was raspy, rumbly from within his chest, and an accent had a light lick to it. It was the first time she heard him talk and made sure to secure this into her memory treasure chest at the back of her head. 
But she voiced her thought on something completely different when they let go of their hand-hold.
"Damn boy, you got paws!" Y/N blurted out, still staring at his said, gloved hand.
Once everyone around her went quiet she flushed from ears to shoulders and offered an awkward grin as soon as everyone began to laugh, even Ghost looked amused with the way his eyes with smudged black liner around them crinkled. Might as well go with the flow as well, so she laughed at herself too if Ghost wasn't offended.
"Why paws?!" Rudolfo asked, hollering in laughter as he supported his whole self against Alejandro's shoulder who was laughing just as much.
Y/N tried to mask her embarrassment with a pout, crossing her arms over her bosom defensively. "Look— Hey, I just passed by stray cats in the Sherwood, okay! 'M still thinking about them!"
Johnny's giggling calmed and his palm rested on her crown before he began to rub, messing up her hair. "Y/N, ya know ya shouldn't be walking in that street." 
"You're not my dad, Soapbar!" Y/N retorted with a huff and everyone was hollering in their seat, and she joined with soft snorting, feeling a little proud at her creativity with words. Her hands grasped at his wrist the hand that bullied her. She growled as they played around before he put her in a headlock as an excuse to hug it out without squeezing, just like they always used to. 
Y/N glanced at others and found Ghost looking at Johnny with this odd expression that wasn't there before, like a new face. Are they close friends? But the thought of these two dating seemed as more of a plausible thing behind this expression, and it thrilled her, actually, that Johnny got himself, someone. But there was this stinging pain... Jealousy? Worry that she might not be that much important to her Irish buddy? People always did come and went in her life, which Johnny knew. He wouldn't abandon her like others, right? He was the brother she never had.
Ghost and John gently hit their glasses against each other, the captain drowned his drink in one go and then left for the bar counter. Alejandro and Rudolfo talked to each other in their native language but everyone who doesn't understand a word can pretty much guess they're shamelessly flirting. Y/N snuggled up against Johnny, sighing contently while she squeezed him the best she can in an embrace she had returned and it made Johnny smile against her hair which he nuzzled his nose against, it made Ghost wonder if Johnny truly sees Y/N as his sister and nothing else.
Then again, affection has always been foreign to him. To them.
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆.⛓🖤🔪💀⛓.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆.
"Why did he call you Beastie?"
"Why do they call you Ghost?"
In all honesty, Y/N is still shocked he spoke to her in the first place. Although his curiosity about her made her somewhat happy, since she's curious herself it's only fair he could answer any of her questions as well and she made sure to hint at that broadly, and Ghost understood loud and clear.
Johnny had abandoned them long ago and went who knows where when he didn't bother to take his drink with him, nor did he go to the toilets. John has been seated at the bar counter ever since, both he and Thomas watched the sports on the small tv and seemed to have a good time. Rudolfo and Alejandro did go to the bathroom and Y/N had an inkling that it was not because one of them needed to vomit. It was just Ghost and her, and she was quite alright with the expectation of silence to be between them. 
When noticing he fell silent for a little longer than Y/N would've liked she tried to coax him further into talking, stopping the chat now would be awkward.
"Don't get me wrong, ghosts are cool, but I'm really curious about the reason behind your nickname— Also, why can't I know your real name?"
Taking it as a good sign for not being ignored and still having Ghost's full attention she tried not to shower him with every one of her questions on her tongue, she had yet to learn the limits of this man of how much further she can take things personally without asking a subject she herself wouldn't want to answer. Being neutral is hard, but smiling isn't, so she hoped she looks very inviting for him to talk with her. 
Now Ghost's pointed silence got her all antsy, her leg began to jump with rhythmic bumping of her heel against the tiled floor. His brows twitched ever-so-slightly and Y/N noticed, she realized that he was uncomfortable and it was a boundary she shouldn't cross.
Fuck! Is he irritated with her now? Maybe she should just shut up...
"A-ah, it's classified, like Johnny's, right? Okay, I don't mind." Y/N answered her question and chuckled, rubbing at the nape of her neck, her leg had no intention to stop bouncing.
He leaned forward on one elbow against the rattling table, and the sharpness of his eyes melted back to that tiredness Y/N noticed earlier this evening. "Well, since I don't have the blue-collar on me now," something about that throaty grumbliness that sounded just a tad bit softer made shivers run down her spine. "It's Simon. Simon Riley. I just didn't wanna tell ya earlier."
Y/N blinked, confused, her head tilted to the side a bit and one brow quirked up. "Why?"
Simon heard the gentleness in her voice, but she didn't sound that much meek, her wide eyes of curiosity spoke volumes themselves. He frowned slightly and searched in the depths of her orbs a little longer before finally answering her as emotionlessly as possible: "I didn't know if I could trust you."
And he still didn't hundred percent, it's 50/50. It's not like he needs to be your friend even if Johnny would love it if that happened, nor will he open up to her, but sitting here in awkward silence is something he doesn't want on his day off.
Y/N responded with a hum, looking at him knowingly and her eyes softened while she straightened her head not to strain her neck any further. "Understandable." she gave him a kind smile, to which he responded with a gruff hum of sorts.
Simon placed his big paw on her bouncing knee and stopped it without even trying to restrain her leg, her muscles froze at the contact and she stammered incoherent words in surprise, apologizing. What for? She had no clue. But she always does this automatically.
Y/N grasped onto her glass, filled with soda and ice cubes, her digits pinched her straw before twirling it. When he let go of her knee she could still feel the pressure of his grasp present on that spot.
God damn, why must big hands be so attractive?!
Clearing her throat, she glanced back at Simon who took a sip of his bourbon when she wasn't looking, now he just adjusted his mask over his chin. Had he pulled it up from below?
"Thomas calls me that, well, since ever I was a toddler runnin' around here. I wasn't a bad kid, I just couldn't stay still. Literally ran off whenever someone turned their back for a second." Y/N smiled fondly at those rebellious memories and Simon listened intently, leaning comfortably on his elbows. "I was just assertive when things... took a turn in the kid group here. Pretty much got myself a tag of an outsider, but it's better than to pretend I am who I ain't."
Their gazes locked and she felt a sudden heaviness in the mood which she didn't like, so she cracked up a cocky smirk.
"Literally had to break some teeth so the brats wouldn't mess with me."
Simon's brown eyes darkened and he snickered lowly, amused, and leaned back with crossed arms over his wide chest.
"So a small, innocent woman has a kill count on 'her own?" he was grinning under his mask, liking this unexpected turn of her showing her viciousness that still could be there. And something told him she still had it in her. It was intriguing.
Y/N grinned playfully, something of a thrill sparked at the small of her back. "What, the only military are allowed to have skeletons in their closet? If we won't count you, Bones." she chuckled, finally feeling at ease. "Too bad, I got some in the freezer as well."
His dark-brown eyebrows rose up before they furrowed down, when Y/N noticed his confusion she cleared her throat from the sudden awkwardness.
"Sorry— I thought Soap had told you of my job... I'm a mortician."
"Oh..." in all honesty, how can he answer?
"Yeah, hah ah," she stuttered. "Sorry if it's... weird."
Simon shrugged his broad shoulder, it's not like he should be one to judge in the first place. "A job's a job."
Y/N smiled softly up at him, humming softly in return. But she was lost, how should they continue their discussion about anything really? Now it feels too odd—
"So I'm "Bones" now, huh?"
Being lost in thoughts, she was startled and blinked at him but he enjoyed watching her small, plump frame trying to shrink under the table while her face looked like a tomato. "Well— U-umh uh... I didn't mean—"
Simon exhaled longly. "Quit it. You got nothing to apologize for, Beastie."
Twirling with her digits on her lap, she looked up at him over the edge of her lashes, her blushing has yet to go away. But by the fucking-whoever-is-up-there, this is so embarrassing!! Making nicknames are for her best friends or family, not strangers you are just getting along with. Maybe she got too excited, she should lay low, for her, he doesn't look like the type that like things rowdy in their life unless given no choice.
The fact that he used her nickname made her naive, big heart feel things. As much as she fears new people she loves having friends, new friends.
"Y-you.... don't mind then?" Y/N asked hesitantly but couldn't look up from her glass. 
"I expected to be called Paws or something." Simon rumbled out, entertained by her asserting hiss to try to mask her embarrassment, and it irked her that he made fun of her.
"Guess you aren't that creative with names."
Y/N abruptly stood up, a little balled fist rose into the space between them and she still was a head shorter than him sitting. She swears he's smirking under that mask.
"SHUT IT YA DAMN BRIT!!"
Literally couldn't come up with a better insult. 
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witchboyjimin · 4 months
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20 questions for fic writers
stole this from my best friend. if you'd also like to do it, please go for it and tag me in it huhu
1. How many works do you have on Ao3?
60! which is. a lot of works but i've been posting since 2015
2. What's your total Ao3 word count?
623,307. i hope to hit 1 million words by the end of 2025 >:)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
everything is kookmin these days but once upon a time i wrote other bts pairings and before that i wrote for ikon and got7 (and before that aka before ao3: exo, bap, block b, beast, harry potter, naruto, kingdom hearts....god idk there are a lot of fandoms lol)
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
i like how desperate you seem (in the way you look at me) if i get in, i just might drown i glow pink in the night shine a light through the dark the moon keeps calling out to me, but i only ever hear your name
5. Do you respond to comments?
no, but i did promise myself to respond to comments again in 2024. starting with the ones left on my latest fic.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
uuhhh...probably i might not make it. simply because it's an mcd fic and spoilers! jk is dead throughout the fic and the fics ends like that...
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
lol i think pretty much all of my fics end with a happy ending aka the pairing ends up together, happily in love. 
8. Do you get hate on fics?
100%. lot of fandom drama involved with writing exclusively btm!jm. i've gotten anon msgs telling me to "kms", people hoping i get raped, murdered, my body never found etc etc. you name it, i've seen it. all because they hate that i write btm!jm.
i do think fandom has gotten less insane over this very recently but i am also just way less available and have a much smaller social media presence so lack of access to me has probably reduced the hate, too. plus i'm not actively part of fandom these days so people care about me less, which is great!
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
it's my favourite thing to write! i do need to get back into it though...also was not aware there are types of smut? i guess the rly nasty kind rjfkndk i like pretty much most kinks/fetishes and think it's fun to explore them.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
i have written three crossover fics! >:) two were bobby (ikon)/jimin and one was jaebum (got7)/jimin.
craziest one was probably oh boy, don't be shy since it's basically bobby finds jimin's dildo and then dp's jimin :D
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
multiple times.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
yes, i used to allow translations but it got to a point where people would ask to translate and then never come back to link their translations. plus, i've had people link me to fics that were translated without my permission. 
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
yes! two of them :)
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin kookmin
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
god, i have so many wips i want to write that it's always like...whatever sticks. my current wip tracker has 30 fic ideas on it. i rly want to write this mafia au but i have 2 supernatural aus i also want to write very badly...
there is also a collab fic i rly want to write with my friend bee, which i hope to finish, but idk if we will. i just rly love writing hurt/comfort jgfkd
16. What are your writing strengths?
i'm very good at writing emotion. it's important to me that the reader feels and understands what my characters are feeling and feels that connection to the fic. i'm also good at writing porn for this reason. i'm also very good at worldbuilding and i will put in the research and care to ensure my worldbuilding makes sense and is as accurate as possible and failing that, as believable as possible. moreover, i am just a dedicated researcher. because i write for a korean boyband, it's important to me that i do the research into korean history, customs, current social etiquette etc. it's actually a huge pet peeve of mine to see people just make stuff up or have the fic be entirely westernised/americanised but the boys are all in korea.
i think i'm also good at consistent characterization and at pacing/flow in my work. these are both rly important to me and i've worked on them a lot over the years. i think this also lends to me being pretty good at plotting a fic out so that it's not long and drawn out or that i'm not taking the time to explore certain aspects i've introduced. balance is important!
i think i'm also pretty versatile. i can write different genres pretty easily (eg. i love writing action sequences and am good at making sure the pacing is rly fast and then slowing down when something romantic or suspenseful happens) and am good at like setting a certain vibe/tone for a fic.
finally, i am dedicated to improving. i don't think fanfic writers necessarily owe this to readers (fic writing being a hobby) but writing is really important to me and so it's important to me that i improve and challenge myself.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
i need to read more! i need to expand my vocabulary and learn how to better write metaphors. my imagery could use work, my dialogue definitely needs work. i want to write my characters with a more unique voice versus everyone kind of sounding the same. i want to make sure each character has their own "quirks" the way real people do.
i need to learn to write better description, too, as i think setting can do a lot for setting the mood/tone for a fic. a lot of my short-comings just come down to me reading too little so i need to read more and i need to dissect my favourite fics and books and pinpoint what i found compelling about them.
i also need to challenge myself to write more plot-heavy fics and to be unafraid to write characters who are unlikable or appear irredeemable. i want to write fic that has one main plot but a million little subplots and i want all of these things to come together coherently. i want my work to explore themes that are important to me!
i don't care so much about grammar but probably, i need to get better at that too haha
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
since i write fic for bangtan who are korean, i don't think it's ever necessary to write dialogue in another language. it comes across as cringey (derogatory) and borders on racist imo
19. First fandom you wrote for?
uh, beyblade? lolololol
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
i think it's my favourite rn because i just finished writing it lol but sorry about the blood in your mouth (i wish it were mine)
i am also very fond of i thought he remembered me; he took me back so tenderly because i love writing space aus! sci-fi is one of my fav genres!
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