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satinoflowers · 10 months

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Day 1 of Jon Snow fortnight: The Humble Champion ficlet

Beneath the shadow of the Wall, a laborer toils.

Of course, Jon isn’t usually a laborer. Usually around now he’d be walking the ramparts with his brothers in black, checking ballistas and defenses for cracks and restocking oil. But today Kegs had caught a vicious fever, and was quarantined in Hardin’s tower for fear of spreading his sickness amongst the crows. And Jon would be damned if a single builder couldn’t attend to his duties- there was much and more, always, to be done.

“Lord Crow! What the hell are you doing?” Tormund stalks over from his seat, one fist full of dice and the other full of a tankard.

“I could ask you the same. Don’t you have some delegating to do?” Jon spares him a glance before bringing the hammer down, driving the rest of the nail into the log. He’s been working on a palisade for the past hour- a palisade that was due to be finished a day ago.

“To hell with delegating, Jon. The name’s not Tormund Delegator-Slayer.” The wildling thinks for a moment. “HAR! Actually, it has a good ring t’it. I’ll add it to my list.”

“...Right.” The lord commander wipes the sweat from his brow, which had begun to turn cold and hard.

Pounding a hammer for hours on end worked different muscles than sword fighting, and the strain in his shoulders reminded him of his tireless training as a recruit. The memory and feeling was as pleasant as a warm gust of wind… but he could only enjoy it for a moment before Tormund Talks-Too-Much interrupted.

“Come have a roll with us, lad. Take a break!”

“Sorry, Tormund. These palisades were supposed to be done a day ago, and all the builders are delegated to other roles.”

“You’re the Lord Commander. I’m sure you could find one gods-damned person to drive a fuckin’ nail.” Jon shakes his head and readies the next nail.

Tormund sighs, and claps a giant hand on Jon’s shoulder.

“Lad. The singers won’t sing songs for no builders- they’ll sing for Lord Commanders, and warriors, though. And part of being a warrior is a bit o’ gambling.”

“Someone must do it. And I never much cared for song anyways.” Hopefully that’ll convince his friend to leave him alone.

Tormund considers this, leaning against Jon’s unfinished palisade, causing the wall to tilt awkwardly to the side. Jon has to steady the icy wood with his bare hands, contracting a splinter in the process. Damnit. Wonder how many splinters Lord Commanders Mormont or Qorgyle had in their services.

“That seems to be your philosophy for quite a few situations.” Tormund raises a bushy eyebrow. “Lord Crow.” He shifts off the palisade and mock bows, strutting back to his friends.

Jon watches him go for only a moment before returning to work- someone has to do it, anyways.

The Lord Commander toils beneath the shadow of the Wall.

#jonsnowfortnightevent2023 #canonjonsnow #book jon snow #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #jon snow #valyrian scrolls #tormund giantsbane #fanfiction #i may or may not xpost to ao3 #jonsnowfortnightevent

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izzybellgee · 2 years

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Wolf in the Daylight (Part 1)

Link to Part 2

Fandom: Destiny 2 Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Eido & F!Guardian, minor established F!Guardian/Mithrax Tags: hurt/comfort

Summary: Eido is stunned by what she learns about her father after their parley with Eramis. Sonora would like to be there for her as best she can, grappling with it all herself.

Spoilers for Week 5 story of Season of the Plunder.

A/N: I meant to have a longer piece out before this one to introduce Sonora, but I'm too antsy to get this out while its relatively timely. (The other piece is set during season of the splicer)

Sonora-9 is an exo hunter, and uses she/her pronouns. Her ghost, Echo, uses xe/xem pronouns. Jack, mentioned briefly, is a fellow guardian.

Set immediately after the parley with Eramis.

For once, Echo is silent in the jumpship. They sit in the ship for a long moment, and Echo just watches her as Sonora shakes her head.

Xe speak. “Are you surprised?”

“Not really.”

“I didn’t think so.” Xe watch Sonora begin plugging in the coordinates for home, and sigh. “What are you thinking, Nora?”

“I’m thinking about Eido. He should have told her.”

“He should have told you.”

“He should have told her, Echo.” Sonora’s voice is firm. Her sidearm sits on the console, just where she left it before the parley. Echo watches Sonora slot it back onto her hip, the pink lines of power glowing on it in the low light. “Telling me is optional.”

“I disagree.”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You should have known too. He already knows your demons.”

“I haven’t been thrown out of the City for mine, nor am I at risk. Nor am I in charge of a settlement of people. Or protecting a child.”

“Eido is grown.”

“It was a turn of phrase. I know she can handle herself, but after watching that, I’m certain Misraaks is only now seeing just how grown up she is.”

“But don’t you think- Hold on.” Echo turns from her and Sonora watches until xe turn back. “Sonora, transmission coming in.”

“It can wait.” Busy at the moment, Jack.

“From Eido.”

Not Jack. “Nevermind. Connect us.”

“It’s one-way.” Sonora and Echo share a confused look.

“Let’s hear it then.”

Echo opens the line.

The speakers on the other side are instantly obvious. Sonora and Echo share a horrified look.

“I did not have to hear it from her. That was your choice.” Eido’s voice is stern.

“That was not a story Eramis had any right to tell.” Misraaks sounds nearly as upset as he had been when he threatened to dock Spider’s arms.

“Did you believe that I would never find out? That no one would remember? I’m charged with preserving the history of our people!”

“Some history does not need to be preserved.” There is pain in his voice as he speaks, and Sonora grimaces.

“Like the Whirlwind? So much was lost; so much we will never recover, no matter how much we search… no matter how much we remember.” A shifting sound of fabric tells them that Eido is recording in secret. They look at each other again. “Is that what you wish to happen to us now?”

“You do not understand.”

“I want to understand. You will not let me!” Eido’s voice clips on the line as she raises her voice.

“You do not know what I know! You did not see what I saw!” Misraaks pauses. “When I pulled you from the wreckage of a Ketch, I knew that you deserved more than the world that orphaned you. I want you to look forward! Not to what the Whirlwind made us. You do not need to carry this history.”

They both stop, and for a moment, Sonora believes they’re finished.

They’re not.

Eido sighs. “It is a part of me, whether I witnessed it or not. I don’t want to look away, and I don’t want to forget.”

“You do not know what you ask.” His voice is so low, it’s nearly lost.

“Perhaps not. But nothing good comes from refusing to face the truth.”

With that, the line cuts.

“That was…” Sonora starts.

“That was bad.” Echo finishes.

As Sonora begins setting the coordinates once more, Echo settles into her hood.

“Where are we going, Nora?”

“Where else?”

Sonora tracks Eido back to the Eliksni quarter.

“You don’t want to talk to the big guy?”

“I do. Later.” Sonora’s mind wanders to Misraaks, but she refocuses. “Eido’s more important at the moment.”

Sonora steps out into the Botza district and there is a pall of silence over those she passes. They regard her with nods and looks, but no words.

She finds Eido on the overlook beside the Ether Tank. Sonora approaches slowly, as she notices the young woman’s hood is down. She hears a chatter that she knows isn’t a happy sound, and clears her throat. Tries to.

Eido glances her way, then hastily pulls her hood back up. “Sonora!”

“Hey.”

“I… I did not hear your approach.”

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you… We heard your… message.”

“We? Oh, Echo. Good, good. I wanted to speak with you at some point… but this is better than over the transponder.”

“Agreed.”

The two of them look at each other, and Eido crosses both sets of arms, putting a hand under her chin.

“Misraakskel of House Light… My father… a murderer and a liar.” She sounds so deflated as she starts. “I am… beyond disappointed. That my father’s past is one so grim hurts… but not nearly as sharp as the pain of knowing he hid it from me. He didn’t tell me earlier and I had to hear it from Eramiskel.”

“He should have been the one.” Sonora agreed, her arms crossed against her chest. Echo shifted against her neck, but kept quiet.

“I… I was aware he had a past, but in a way, Eramiskel showed me who my father is today… and who he sees when he looks at me. I don’t like the implications of either possibility I can think of.”

“Which are?” Sonora asks evenly.

“He must think I am… unable to understand… either that or he doesn’t care whether or not I do. Underestimated or dismissed in his eyes.”

Sonora suppresses a wince at that. Eido either doesn’t notice or sees and ignores it, turning around and continuing on.

“And no matter which is true, the lesson I draw from it is the same: my own father does not want me to know him.”

“He thinks the world of you, Eido. He’d move heaven and earth for you, if he could.”

“Then why hide this from me? Put me at such a distance?”

“I’m not saying he was right to hide all this. He wasn’t. Not from you.” She feels Echo shift against her neck pointedly, and ignores xem.

“Sonora, why are you so calm? My father kept the truth from you as well! His mate!” Eido turns to her quickly, the young eliksni’s arms open in question and eyes wide with anger. Sonora watches her, glancing at the girl’s hands. They’re stained from her tinkering and recording.

Oil stains, ink stains.

Sonora sighs.

“Because I’m not the one he was trying to hide it from.” Eido looks to start again, but Sonora shoots her a sharp look and continues. “I can’t judge your father for his past. I won’t. I’d be a hypocrite, condemning his choice to hide away from that life while doing the same bloody work today.”

“My father’s past… conquest and your mission are not the same. You fight for the City, for the humans and eliksni within it-”

“That’s the reason for what I do… but… you’ve seen my work, Eido. It doesn’t look all that different.” Sonora throws her hands up and drops them, feeling drained herself.

“I don’t think the way he treated this situation was right. The way he treated you.” Sonora points at Eido as she speaks. “His actions today may change some ways I see him, but his past doesn’t really affect what I admire about him.”

“His vision.” Eido muttered.

“And his commitment to making things better. Making things right.” Sonora adds quickly, seeing the droop in Eido’s shoulders. Sonora steps toward her, and puts a hand on her arm. “He has things to answer for, Eido. And those answers belong to you.”

“...Thank you, Sonora.” Eido shifts her mask with one hand, before pulling Sonora into a hug that reminds the hunter just how tall she isn’t around eliksni. As they pull back from one another, Eido’s eyes have that signature squint of her smile. “But you deserve those answers too. Father owes them to you as well.”

“You first, Eido.”

Link to Part 2

#scribe eido #eido #mithrax #misraaks #exo guardian #destiny #destiny 2 #destiny season of plunder #destiny season of the plunder #spoilers #xpost from AO3 #destiny oc tag #sonora

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andthebubbles · 11 months

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er. ppl posting their bridgerton fics on tumblr make it look so.............. pro.... like, gifs or edits to go with it............ wth /intimidated

#i've posted the anthony angst fic on ao3 #i'm just. wutttttttt. rn. at the edits #fic talk #anthony angst fic #i'm soooooooo. i just want someone to xpost for me

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kd-heart · 8 months

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tagged by @yszarin

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.

First fic published on Ao3: I'm not actually sure. I have a bunch of fics I crossposted from ffn and a few backdated ones I only recently decided to share. Tho it started on an anime forum in 2007, I'm pretty sure I finished Cinnamon and Mistletoe on AO3 after xposting from ffn. It's a Inuyasha x Yuyu Hakusho xover, Kagome/Kurama fluff about them being childhood friends separated by the stuff going on in their respective parents' lives, and now reuniting because their mothers are having a class reunion and everyone's bringing their kids along.

Last fic published: Splash of Red, a Kingmaker Histories drabble character study of one of the secondary characters.

Fandom/ship I only wrote once: There's currently 25 fandoms I've only written one fic for and I'm not going to count the ships. But one I'm particularly fond of is Picking up the pieces - post-canon fic for season 1 of Mirror Mirror, about Jo's mum having to deal with Nick being stuck in the present in the mundane ways that magic time traveling mirrors do not care about. (It's very short and doesn't go into much detail)

Favorite fic in most popular fandom/ship: The one with the disembodied penis - Supernatural crack fic crossed with 19th century Romanian literature. Team Free Will finds a semi-sentient, disembodied dick in a cursebox in the Men of Letter's bunker. Gabriel is somehow responsible for its existence. My most prolific fandom:

Fic I wish more people read: Stolen - pre-canon The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest fic about Arnaud, the vampire hunter, and his history with the vampire he's hunting. I think it mostly works without knowing the canon.

Fic I agonized over: Tales of Atlantis aka the SGA fic that never ends. We're two stories from the end of the series. I started writing this with a friend in 2010. A lot has happened in 13 years, but we will eventually finish that beast. It started as a forum RP and it grew out of control.

Fic that popped out fully-formed: Frozen - RQG fic I wrote on my way home from work after ep 174. Zoscar hurt/comfort, bc I really needed Wilde to be fine

Fic I'm proud of: In your hands, my first Kane and Feels fic, about Kane binding himself to Hana so he could safely fight off an entity that attacked his partner's subconscious.

Tagging @theothersarshi, @thriceandonce, @flammenkobold, @kristsune with no pressure and anyone who feels like doing it.

#fandom meme #kd writes

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dngrcpckwithmurdericing · 10 months

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comment fic from 2008

I accidentally ended up in a bunch of emails from early 2008, including some LJ comments, including a reply to this comment fic (amongst others, which I suddenly feel like I should post somewhere; maybe xpost AO3 and dreamwidth?); anyway, I thought I would specifically share this one because it’s Gerard/Ray but also it’s soooooooo 2008 lol.

Ray is a big believer in happily ever after. Gerard is... not so much. He thinks things that are easy aren't worth having, and it makes Ray crazy.

"I'm easy," he says one night, poking Gerard in the side. Gerard squirms away, but everywhere he goes, Ray's finger follows. "I'm easy AND I'm worth having."

"You're not easy," mumbles Gerard.

"What?" Ray pokes him again. "I'm totally easy."

"You are NOT. You leave hair all over the place and you -- you --"

"Uh-huh." Ray pokes Gerard's stomach one last time, just for fun, then leans in and kisses him on the neck, on the collarbone. Gerard hates the summer because his skin tans so easily, but it's a good look for him -- better than the sallowness of winter.

"Anyway, happy endings are for kids." Gerard says this into Ray's hair, so Ray can hardly hear him.

"I guess that means I'll be a good dad," Ray finally says, and sinks his teeth into Gerard's throat, and normally Gerard would whine at this, high-pitched, squirmy -- but this time Gerard freezes and pulls away, goes into the bathroom, and locks the door.

"Uh. What? What?" Ray calls, bewildered. "Do you not want kids?"

"I can't have</ikids," yells Gerard through the door.

Oh. Oh.</iBut -- "Are you sure?" calls Ray. He sits up against the headboard of their bed and worries at the corner of his pillow. The foam inside doesn't make the satisfying crackling noises that down pillows do, but they don't have any down pillows for him to pull at.

("Think of the ducks, Ray!" Gerard had said in front of the down pillow display at Target.)

Gerard opens the bathroom door and glares at Ray. "I'm a boy," he says scathingly.

"I... uh... realize that." Ray frowns. What the fuck? "Gerard. I meant I want to have kids with you, not with some girl."

"Boys can't have babies together, Ray." Gerard closes the bathroom door again, and locks it. Ray refuses to do this -- he is not</ithe guy who does this. So he just lies back down on his (foam) pillows, and goes to sleep. When he wakes up the next morning, Gerard is back in the bed, being the little spoon, one hand tucked under his cheek and the other holding onto the hand Ray slung around him in sleep.

#my chemical romance #fic #gerard/ray #2008 #2008 was truly a different time in bandom

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crankydevon · 2 years

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. (xposted from DW) A few nights ago, I had a sudden thought of that guy Matt Murdock, Daredevil from the TV show. The blind lawyer who has super-senses for fighting crime. (when he's not in the courtroom, I guess.) I've never seen the show, so everything I know comes from tumblr. I never thought he was especially hot but neither not-hot.

But all of a sudden, I'm thinking about his MOUTH. Like, he has a great mouth. lips. grin. smirk. etc.

And I thought about how great it would be if he (the character, not the actor) went down on me.

This led to 2 evenings of writing self-insert porn in my head while waiting to fall asleep. It was well-written, if you like that kind of thing. I won't be putting it on AO3 because I have standards ffs, but I used some great phrases, and I described parts of it MINUTELY and EXACTINGLY.

Of course, his great hearing (and listening skills) and sense of touch made him a perfect lover. He's not going to stop part-way through to ask how it's going. He can TELL how it's going. He can adjust his game along the way based on observation, all for my benefit. And because it's my fantasy, he really gets off on it. :D

9/10 would bang again. He actually gets 10/10 but loses 1 point for reminding me of Ben Affleck.

#matt murdock #daredevil #self insert #superheroes #fanfic #sorta #lol

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unforth · 4 months

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@xieliansbignaturals is doing a prompt event on Mastodon and I really need to remember to xpost my microfic fills here.

Here's the first. (Hualian, canon compliant, prompt: power)

On reflection, Xie Lian feels the best part of being with Hua Cheng is that he doesn't need to be careful. Every day for 800 years, he's had to restrain himself: don't grab too strongly, touch too roughly, push too hard, move too fast. But Hua Cheng is his equal in power, and when it's the two of them, Xie Lian can behave as he will, can embrace, hold, thrust, kiss, touch, touch, touch.

For the first time in his long life, Xie Lian can simply be.

#unforth writes #tgcf #hualian #i will probably xpost to ao3 too at some point #i also have a few old Halloween prompts I didn't do that I'd like to try to catch up on #but first I'm just trying to carve out a little space each day to actually be a fricken writer again

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lil-creatorwritings · 4 years

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Summer of Smut Writing Challenge July 3: Jealousy [Ieyasu Tokugawa]

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku Pairing: Ieyasu Tokugawa x Reader Word Count: 2,211 words Prompt: Untying a bikini top Warning: Pure, unadulterated smut. There is zero plot. Also, modern!AU, cause why not. A/N: Part of @voltage-vixen ’s Summer of Smut Writing Challenge. You can check the original post for the rules and prompts if you’d like to join in as well! So, this is late. My excuse reason is that this one...took off in a really far tangent? Like how somewhere along the way, I didn't know what I was getting into and then it just came out like this. So yeah. But also no, I don't know how to write Ieyasu! This is actually my first time trying to write him and well, I hope I did him some justice because I have no beta (we die like men!!!!).

---

The sun was high up in the sky as you sat underneath the umbrella's shade, determined to build a sandcastle. Today was a lovely day to spend at the beach, enjoying the clear waters and summer breeze. The only reason you were here was because of your lover and the company he worked for. Their latest project had been a huge success and the CEO had arranged this extravagant trip as a reward for their hard work. Fortunately, since they were allowed to invite one guest per member, you were able to tag along.

Though you've only met Ieyasu's co-workers a few times before, usually when the company conducted social events, everyone was quite friendly and welcoming. You were thankful that a few of them had also brought their girlfriends, which made it less awkward knowing that you weren't the only female in this group of men. Plus, you were always up to meeting new people.

"Ah, so this is where you were."

You looked up to find Masamune standing behind you. He was Ieyasu's second in command so to speak and also one of his long time friends since their college days. You've known him since the two of you started dating and eventually become one of your good friends as well.

"Where's Ieyasu? I would've thought that he was with you."

"He went off somewhere, but I'm sure he'll be back soon."

He sat down across from you and smiled. "And left such a pretty girl like you all alone? That's not very nice of him."

"Instead of flattering me, you should help me build this castle. I've always wanted to make one."

Together, the two of you worked to make the sandcastle of your dream. While you were trying to make it taller, you could feel your halter top sliding around a bit every time you extended your arms. Even though you tried to discreetly keep it in place, you were worried that the knot could have loosened from your movements. Looking around, you searched for the nearest changing area or bathroom you could use.

Masamune had immediately noticed your discomfort and paused. "Hm? Something wrong?"

"Yeah, just... Will you excuse me for a bit? I think I need to fix my top."

"I can tie it for you if you're okay with that." He offered, dusting the sand off his hands. "It'll be faster that way, plus we don't want you getting lost in the crowd like that. Or I can walk with you back to the hotel if you want."

You thought about it but you didn't want to just disappear on Ieyasu like that. "Do you mind fixing it for me?"

Nodding his head, he moved behind you as he undid the ribbon you made. You could barely feel his fingers, clutching your top close to your chest as he worked with the strings. Once he was done you slowly raised your arms as a test, happy to see that it wasn't shifting around anymore. "Thanks Masamune!"

"That should hold it throughout the rest of the day, as long as you don't get up to more exciting activities." He said with a suggestive tone.

"Oh shut up, will you." You were used to his antics by this point, laughing as you shook your head. "Come on, help me finish this before Ieyasu comes back."

"Alright, alright. You're quite bossy, aren't you."

By the time you were satisfied with how it looked, you spotted Ieyasu approaching the two of you. You stood up and brushed the sand off your legs, smiling at him as he studied the structure by your feet. "Ah, so this is what you were doing while I was away."

"Yup! I've always wanted to make one of these and Masamune came over to help me with it."

There was a strange expression you saw on Ieyasu's face, but it was so brief that you weren't really sure if it had been there. After taking a photo with it as a remembrance, the two of you headed back to your hotel room for a rest while Masamune went off on his own. You hadn't realized how much actual work it was until you were done, even if you did have some help. Plus the sun was getting too high in the sky, which also meant that it was getting too hot and you didn't want to get any sunburns.

He sat down on the bed and started to open his phone. "You go ahead and shower first. I can wait for you."

You grabbed your clothes and headed to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you as you reached behind your neck. After a few frustrating moments of fiddling around with the strings to no avail, you used the mirror sink to check what was going on. It was quite a dilemma--the top strings were tied to each other and so were the ones on your sides, but what you didn't expect was for the extra length from those two to be connected together with another knot. There was no way you could remove that on your own without needing to cut it, so you decided to ask for help. "Hey Ieyasu, can you help me with this? I can't remove the knot."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"Well... You'll understand when you see it.

"With a quizzical look on his face, he put his phone away and came close, turning you around so he could take a look. The surprise was evident in his voice. "Why did you haphazardly tie it like it? Or rather how did you even manage to do this?"

It had stumped you as well, recalling if anything strange had happened today until it came to you. "Oh! It's Masamune's fault!"

"How is this his fault?"

"Well when we were building the sandcastle together, he helped fix the knots because I said it felt loose. I didn't think that this was what he would do." You pouted, wishing that you had done it yourself instead. "I swear, his hobby is nothing but playing pranks on people."

Silence. You thought that maybe he was busy concentrating, feeling his hand caress your back every now and then. As much as you wanted to avoid cutting it, you would have no choice if it was too difficult to untangle. Waiting for a response, you stood there for a while before speaking. "Ieyasu? We can just snip it if it's too troublesome."

"That's careless of you to let another man do that for you."

The dismay in his tone confused you. "This is Masamune we're talking about here. Do you really think he'd try anything weird with me?"

"You're so clueless. Do you ever stop to think about how your actions look like to other men?" He wrapped his arms around your waist, trapping your arms to your sides. One of his hands cupped your breast, massaging it as he nipped on your neck. You bit your lip when his fingers teased your nipple, making you shudder when he gave it a gentle tug.

"They can get the wrong impression from you if you're not careful." His voice was gruff, lips pressing warm kisses on the back of your neck. You felt your top slide down as it fell to the floor, gasping when his warm hand caressed your bare chest. "When something catches their interest, they'll relentlessly chase after it until it's theirs and won't let go of it."

Though his words were rough, his actions were the complete opposite. You tilted your head and called his name softly, knowing full well that he would look at you--and he did. His emerald eyes told you what you already knew. "Even so, that doesn't matter to me. Because you're the only one I want, Ieyasu."

As soon as you finished your words, he maneuvered you down on the bed, laying on your back as he hovered over you. Discarding his shirt, he claimed your lips in a hungry kiss, nipping and tugging on your lower lip for permission. You parted them to let his tongue sip inside, deepening the kiss as he made quick work of your bottoms. The last of his clothes soon followed, tossing it away somewhere on the floor.

Fingers stroked your clit in circles, making you jerk up for more. Sliding them further down to tease at your entrance, he slipped inside you and began to thrust. You moaned into his mouth as you moved your hips in time with his hand, trembling when he curled them and found your sweet spot. Pulling away a bit, you noticed his cheeks were a pretty shade of red while his eyes watched you with intense longing.

You reached to wrap your arms around his neck, holding his gaze as you spoke with unabashed desire. "I'm completely yours, so take me."

His eyes widened in surprise as his fingers slowed down. It had looked like he wanted to say something but instead kissed you tenderly, communicating the gentle affection he has for you. You responded back with just as much love you had for him, hoping to chase away the doubts he had.

Easing his fingers out, he rubbed himself along your slick entrance before pushing inside of you, groaning against your skin as your walls squeezed around him. You crossed your legs behind him and rolled your hips up, letting out a sharp gasp when he filled you. With his thumb languidly stroking your clit, he began to thrust at a steady pace. Your body trembled with need as he took his time loving you, sucking on your neck to leave his mark.

It was so much but you wanted more of him, digging your heel into his back as you whimpered. "Ieyasu... please..."

The increased pressure on your sensitive nub made you clamp around his cock, crying out when he moved faster. His free hand slipped behind your waist and hoisted you up, giving him the leverage to reach deeper. With each push you were closer to coming undone, moaning his name with urgency as you gave yourself over to the pleasure, unraveling in his arms. He held you as his movements became unsteady, groaning as he pumped inside you after a few more thrusts.

Ieyasu didn't let go as the two of you took the time to catch your breaths. He slowly lied down on his side, bringing you with him as well before gently easing himself out of you. Lifting his head to look at you, he reached his hand up and caressed your cheek. Even if he didn't say anything, the look on his face had told you everything.

The weekend passed by quickly and before you knew it, it was time to leave. As everyone waited for the van to come around, Masamune came over and hooked his arm on Ieyasu's shoulder. "Man, this trip was real fun wasn't it?"

You nodded. "Mhn. It was a nice break from all the bustle in the city too."

"The huge slide by the water park was the best though. Did you guys try that?"

"No. We had no time to." Ieyasu retorted before his phone rang, taking it out of his pocket to see who it was. He swatted the older man's arm off him before walking off to answer the call. "Nobunaga's calling me. I'll be right back."

"Sure, take your time."

When he left, you noticed that Masamune was looking at you curiously. You tilted your head. "Hm? Is something wrong?"

"No time, huh.." He rubbed his chin before casting his gaze away. "I suppose the two of you were too busy with some other exciting activities in the hotel, weren't you?"

You looked away in hopes that he didn't notice your blush, but the proof was in your silence. Laughing, he reached out to playfully mess with your hair, mentioning the nearby mirror for your hair before walking away. Although you could easily fix it without needing one, you decided to approach it.

When you looked at yourself in it, Masamune's stare now made sense. Your shirt was certainly enough to cover the hickeys that were below your neck as long as you didn't lean over. The ones on the side of your throat, however, were definitely visible with your current hairstyle. You quickly combed your hair down, hoping that no one else had noticed.

Soon enough, you were on your way back home with everyone else. Ieyasu sat beside you, typing something on his phone before asking. "Hm? Why did you put your hair down?"

"Oh. Well, I think it looks better this way, don't you think?"

"Hm. You look fine either way." Reaching his hand out, he trailed a finger down your throat, gently tracing over the marks he made. The simple gesture made you shiver as he leaned in closer, whispering in your ear. "Although, you look best when you're smiling.."

You smiled, tilting your head to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. He blushed and looked away to hide his face, turning his attention to the window. You giggled and rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and savoring the warmth of his sweet words.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen ieyasu #summer of smut #summer of smut writing challenge #look............ untying a bikini and jealousy?#idk bruh my brain is mush and its 7am #dont make me think too hard #NO BETA WE DIE LIEK MENNN!!!!!!!!#pls dont roast me too much ;;#i tried to write him ok! i tried ;;#xposted on ao3

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izzybellgee · 2 years

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Wolf in the Daylight (Part 2)

Link to Part 1

Fandom: Destiny 2 Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Eido & F!Guardian, established F!Guardian/Mithrax Tags: hurt/comfort

Summary: Eido is stunned by what she learns about her father after their parley with Eramis. Sonora would like to be there for her as best she can, grappling with it all herself.

Spoilers for Week 5 story of Season of the Plunder.

She doesn’t hear from Misraaks for a day.

They aren’t always in touch every day. After the one he had, she isn’t surprised. Eido’s hurt simmers in her mind.

Two days.

Hm.

On the third, she’s in a foul mood. She tries not to attribute it to this. She had reassured Echo and Eido that she wasn’t feeling hurt by the situation that day, but sure enough, the sting starts setting in on her.

The fourth day, she sends him a message. All it says is “Hey.” Echo chides her for not elaborating, for not saying more, but Sonora can’t find any words to express what’s churning in her head.

He needs space. She wants to give him that. But she worries. And frankly, she is mad.

“Echo to Nora. You in there?” Xeir familiar voice catches her off guard as she finishes their patrol on Nessus.

“I’m here, Echo.” She grunts. “I’m always here.”

“No, you’re wearing your thinking face.”

“I’m wearing a helmet.”

“Which shows you just how bad you are at hiding it.” Echo appears beside her as they make their way to the next beacon on foot. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s… you know what it is, Echo. I’m not playing this game.”

“Thinking about the big guy?”

“Obviously.”

“I mean, finding out someone lied about their past is a lot to chew on, Nora, as much as you might dismiss that.”

“It’s not his past that bugs me, Echo. I already told you that.”

“What’s got you riled then?”

“The way he acted at the parley. His argument with Eido. I’ve never seen him act so…”

“So…?”

“So… cowardly. A man who can stand strong facing near death at the hands of the vex, but who folds at the concept of telling the truth to his own daughter?” Sonora aggressively reloads the auto rifle in her hands, unbothered as the metal scraped loudly. “It’s… it’s just shitty.”

“How shitty?”

“Pretty shitty, Echo- What do you want me to say?” She looks up at her ghost with a hidden glare.

“I want you to be happy, Sonora.”

“I’m not. I’m gonna be moody for a bit.”

“And when’s that gonna end?”

“Whenever I finally see Misraaks. We need to talk.”

Back at the tower, Sonora strips out of her armor for the first time in ages. Between the ketch battles and her normal duties, she’d been living in her arc loadout for far too long. Getting clean and dressing in civvies is a welcome change, as well as shifting to solar for a change of pace. She can already hear the fans begin whirring in her chest, a comforting feeling as she pulls on her favorite joggers.

As she considers settling down to sleep in her actual bed for once, Echo appears beside her, returning from xeir regular foray around the tower.

“Message for you.”

“Who from?”

“Misraaks.”

“Show me.”

Xe put up a projection before her. The message is short.

Would you mind meeting with me tonight?

Misraaks

“Tell him I’m on my way.” She is out the door before Echo can get a word in.

The transmat across the city is fast. Sonora peers over her shoulder to see if Echo came with her, but it seems xe intended to give her and Misraaks privacy. Fair enough.

She knows where Misraaks is, he’s where they always meet on nights like this.

One of the shelled out buildings around Botza is the place. It’s a little further from the main drag than some others, where shouts from the camp could be heard, but the two of them had some modicum of privacy and a great view of the Traveler. She couldn’t remember when he upgraded the floor sleeping bags for a futon, but she appreciates the change.

Misraaks leans against a wall as she approaches, turning at the sound of her step.

“Sonora…”

She hasn’t seen him since the parley at all. He is still dressed in his regular armor and attire, but he looks… ragged. Exhausted.

“Misraaks.” He reaches out a hand to her, to presumably pull her into an embrace, but she takes it and does not move. She watches him flinch, almost imperceptible. They stare for a moment, before he cocks his head.

“Sit with me?” His voice is soft.

She drops her shoulders, letting out a breath. He pulls her over to sit on the futon and goes first, sitting cross legged. Without a word, she settles into his lap, propping her legs on either side of his waist. It’s an intimate position, but one they’ve been in many times before when simply talking. It soothes her nerves more than she expected, and she can hear his breathing relax slightly as well.

They sit together in silence for a long time, Sonora tracing the scratches on his armor as she stews. It’s the kind of armor that has been worn so much, the scratches have turned it shiny in their own way, the enamel on the metal threatening to finally chip at the next hit.

She prays it never does.

His arms rest around her, his thumbs running over each ridge of her metal back with slow, deliberate movements, as if trying to commit the feeling to memory. His touches are light, as if she might break if he presses too hard.

“Sonora…” She feels him shift to look down at her face. She doesn’t look up at him, continuing to trace.

“Misraaks.”

“I… I wished to speak with you earlier, my star, but… I did not have the words.” He starts, one hand worrying absentmindedly at the edge of her cropped shirt. “Though if you have words for me, I would hear your thoughts.”

“I…” Sonora takes a deep breath through the nose, clenching her fists against the armor on his chest so tightly that she can hear the joints in her hands begin to squeak. She lets it out slowly. “I want to hear what you have to say first.”

She feels his chest swell against his armor as he steels himself to speak.

“I will not apologize, as I believe the secrets of my old life were mine to keep.”

Sonora doesn’t move. He brings one hand to her chin, and ever-so-gently raises it until they are looking eye to eye.

His voice is hoarse and low. “But I do regret.”

“Misraaks…” She lifts a hand to his face, but he quickly turns away from it.

The words start flowing from him now, like a rushing flood. “I am ashamed of my cruelty. Of the things I did, the people I hurt. I thought I left it behind.” He gets more worked up as he goes on, still not meeting her eye. “But the old Misraaks is still within me, and now he has hurt my daughter-”

Sornora furrows her brow, about to speak when she hears a soft chatter from him, pausing instead. He starts again, looking down at her.

“I have hurt my daughter, Sonora. And I have hurt you. I must set it right.”

She instinctively opens her mouth to rebut him, but he starts before she can. “I do not like seeing you wear that brave face around me. I have seen you wear it too often before, and to know it was I who put it there brings me a shame I cannot bear. My actions have harmed our bond. Harmed you. Harmed Eido.”

Sonora closes her eyes, and she can feel his hand shift to cup her cheek.

“Misraaks… your past is yours. Mine is mine. We bear scars, and the weight of our past decisions. The unity you preach, the one we strive for… requires honesty. Requires vulnerability. As I said to Eido, I won’t judge you for your past, in the same way you have withheld your judgment on mine. But…”

She opens her eyes, and Misraaks is simply staring at her, unreadable behind his mask.

“But watching you let Eramis tear down your relationship with Eido because you wouldn’t be frank with your daughter was… I don’t want to see something like that. Never again.”

She can imagine how she looks, stern, red metal expression. He flinches at her words, taking a deep breath before cupping her face in his hands, and bracing a pair on her waist.

“I will do what I must. For you. For Eido. I was a killer, but I am a Kell. I will prove to you which title I deserve.”

She offers Misraaks a weary smile and straightens to press her forehead to his, closing her eyes as she rests her hands over his own.

“This I promise to you, my star.” His words are eager.

“I know, sweetheart… I know.”

They sit together like that for a long time.

Sonora wakes in the morning splayed over his chest. When Misraaks removed his cloak and armor in the night, she isn’t sure, but she can’t complain as she pulls herself tighter against his soft bodysuit. He tightens his arms around her in his sleep and chatters, a comfortable vise. The morning is still early, too early. For now, she enjoys the moment of peace with him.

The hour for their work would come.

#destiny #destiny 2 #mithrax #misraaks #eido #scribe eido #exo guardian #destiny season of plunder #season of the plunder #destiny season of the plunder #spoilers #xpost from ao3 #destiny oc tag #sonora

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yukizakii · 4 years

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finale

He hates him. He should hate him, but he doesn't. Because this is Kondou’s Shinsengumi that he entrusted to Hijikata, he must protect Hijikata. It has to end this way.

Souji's final moments, and his relationship with Death.

It has to end this way, is what he thinks as he tightens the ripped, dirty strips of cloth around his hand. He bites down on the cloth to hold it in place as he wraps it again around the hilt of his sword, tasting the dirt and blood from the road and battles fought before. It’s unpleasant, and for a moment his stomach seems to want to lurch and cough, but he pushes it down and clenches his teeth to pull the cloth tighter. It doesn’t matter anymore.

All that’s left is for him to die.

Souji isn’t afraid of death, hasn’t been for years. As a child, he had been afraid. He feared the death that had taken away his parents, and forced his sister, Mitsu, to grow up faster than she should have. After his parents’ passing, he had cried for months on end out of fear of Enma, the god of the afterlife, who would surely spirit him away as well. Yet as he had listened to the whispers behind closed doors in his home, his fear had been replaced with guilt. Souji had been young, but he was old enough to be able to draw his conclusions when he heard the tone of voice that came with the words burden and a waste of space. Afterwards, Souji simply felt nothing towards death other than acceptance that he too would meet that same fate someday, and perhaps for the better.

How wrong he had been.

Death was a blessing to him, a fortune. Death had stolen away his parents, but instead it bequeathed meaning into his life: to protect those who he cared the most. What a far cry he was from the hopeless child that had first arrived at the doorstep of the Shieikan, holding his wooden sword devoid of passion. Death was what had led him to Kondou, to begin training at the Shieikan as a live-in student and to find his purpose: To live to kill and be the Shinsengumi’s sword. The more that he wielded his sword and swore to follow the path of a warrior, the more that he realized how much death seemed to intertwine itself in every aspect of his life.

Perhaps Death was a blessing, but it certainly was not kind. When Souji had heard the word tuberculosis escape Dr. Matsumoto’s mouth, his first reaction was to laugh. He had been unable to stop, despite knowing how crazy he must have looked from an outside perspective. Surely this was karma, for the dozens of men he had killed on the battlefield without remorse. How especially thoughtful of Death to try and send him off by withering off his life force with each bloody cough. What mockery it was that the men Souji had killed would live vicariously until the last moment, but Death would not allow him the same grace.

Well, Death could try to take him down like that, but he wasn’t going to win. Death could go fuck itself if it thought it could make him go quietly. To live as a warrior was to walk the line of life and death every day, not knowing what would come next. Souji had embraced the adrenaline that came with the thought of potentially dying every time he raised his sword against another man. He loved the rush he got every time a blade got dangerously close to his face, or the feeling of his lungs heaving as he desperately tried to catch his breath in-between skirmishes. To die as a warrior would be an honor, and wouldn’t it be the most fitting for him to die on the battlefield, just as he had killed so many others?

Mitsu, he thinks, would be disappointed in him. Sad, even. But she will never know, and for the better; he knows that she has her own life and family to worry about during the war. She never did, and never will understand the lifestyle that her young brother chose to live. Souji had kept in touch with his sister sparingly throughout the years, but eventually he had stopped writing truths to her. His last letter a month ago indicated that he was fine, healthy, and participating in the Koyo Chinbutai with the remaining members of the Shinsengumi. He hopes that she will be happy with her life.

Kondou had written a letter to Mitsu as soon as he learned of Souji’s diagnosis, but Souji had been clever enough to have Chizuru intercept it for him. Chizuru-chan, can you offer to take Kondou-san and Hijikata-san’s mail today? Just say that you’re going on rounds with Sano. But give me Kondou-san’s mail. If you don’t do it, I’ll kill you. He remembers her round face staring back at him with confusion, before her features settled into one of sadness and understanding. Within a few hours the letter had been tossed into the fire as its final recipient, Chizuru watching him in silence.

Oh, little Chizuru. Frankly, she shocked him with her kind and selfless demeanor, even in the face of tragedy and death. He had expected her to instantly crumble like a child after witnessing what would be a series of nightmares to any other person, but it seemed that she stood with her back straighter with every harrowing adventure they went through. She was certainly one of, if not the strongest women that Souji had ever met. He thinks ruefully of the day they had first met—that innocent expression on her face had been unforgettable. He remembers the satisfying clink of the weight of his sword shifting as he had pointed it straight at her, and her eyes that seemed almost too large for her face fixating on the sharp tip. What a pity that I might have to kill such a cute little woman, he remembered thinking. But the last time Souji had seen her, he had been shocked by how much she had changed. She had chased after him with a stubbornness and determination that could have only grown out of pain and suffering. Her face had thinned as she had matured and grown, and he noticed that her eyes no longer had the innocent gleam from years before. Gone was that timid girl from that snowy night in Kyoto, replaced by a woman who had seen hurt and death and yet still raised her sword against enemies with them with unwavering loyalty.

That person is lucky to have her by his side.

Being in the Shinsengumi had changed them all more than they could have ever imagined. Souji and the Shieikan crew had always dreamed of being real warriors, but dreams could not have prepared them for reality. Kenjutsu practices turned to fights to the death, and bruises from wooden swords turned into nasty wounds that required stitches. Rumors, petty fights, and politics became daily roadblocks that they were forced to become accustomed to. The introduction of the Ochmizu and Rasetsu was perhaps the worst of all. But no matter how difficult things became, Kondou had remained kind and soft with every man and soldier, just as he had treated Souji as a student at the Shieikan. It was Kondou’s kindness, heart and unrivaled warrior spirit that made him a fitting leader of the Shinsengumi. Unlike that man.

That man, Souji thinks. That man’s name makes his blood want to boil, and when he thinks of his name now he subconsciously clenches his fist. Selfish, bilious, rude, and a man who had left Kondou to die.

But if Kondou had been the head of the Shinsengumi, Hijikata was the backbone and the spine that held it together. Kondou was a skilled orator and had the charisma and presence of a leader, but he was a gentle romanticist who liked to consult the books. On the other hand, Hijikata was all sharp edges and pragmatic, and a genius when it came to creating strategies that were critical to success. Even in the early days of the Shieikan, Hijikata had always been unyielding and harsh, allowing no one to talk down his dreams of hanging up his medicine box and taking a sword. When the opportunity had come to leave Edo and journey to Kyoto to join the Roshigumi, Hijikata had been the first to pull together the crew to plan their departure and involvement.

The Shieikan was where he grew up, but it was the Shinsengumi that became his home. When Souji thinks of the words family, he thinks of the Shinsengumi—and it is a family built by Kondou. For that reason alone, the Shinsengumi had been worth laying down his life for, all of these years. Souji thought himself as nothing more than a sword, and it was an honor to kill and bring death upon those that threatened the Shinsengumi’s progress. But beyond the skirmishes and public work associated to their name, there was a man who had shouldered burden after burden and rallied day and night for their success. The Shinsengumi and Kondou only rose to where it was today, because of Hijikata’s drive and leadership.

Souji knows that without Hijikata, there is no Shinsengumi. And because this is Kondou’s Shinsengumi that he entrusted to Hijikata, he must protect Hijikata. It has to end this way.

I heard that Hijikata Toshizou is staying in the inn in the next town over. Looks like he’s injured and only has one other companion with him. This will be an easy kill.

He hates him. It’s his fault that Kondou died, so he should hate him. He hates him, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t hate him. Though he would never admit it out loud, Hijikata has always been like a brother to him. A bitter and sour one for sure, but like a brother nonetheless. When Souji had fallen ill, Hijikata had somehow always been the first one to scold him to go back to bed and to order Chizuru to make him medicine or soup. Souji had teased him—What are you, a mother bird hovering over her hatchlings? Really, you don’t have to seem so worried about me, Hijikata-san. Despite their constant bickering and harsh words throughout the years, Souji knows that he is a gentle, caring man beneath the demon-like exterior. But more than that, he knows that Hijikata loves the Shinsengumi more than anyone else.

Souji does not have much time left to give to the Shinsengumi, but Hijikata does. Souji cannot allow him to die. It has to end this way.

The lamps go off from the enemy, and he is alerted back to the present from his thoughts. He lets go of the cloth from his teeth, and drops his arms to his side. His right hand is now his sword—fitting now, that his body is now one with his sword. He closes his eyes, and breathes in the fresh night air. He lets his mind go blank, and draws on the power stored within his body to turn him into a Rasetsu. For the first time in months, he feels the air and power rush through his lungs and fill every space in his body with unbound strength; tuberculosis suddenly feels like nothing but a distant memory.

In the face of Death, he feels more alive than ever.

He steps into the moonlight, and hears murmurs from the men as they look at him. Gunshots whiz through the air, but he sidesteps them so easily. He hears the familiar Who the hell are you being shouted into the night, and his lips curl into a smile. Would these be his last words? How fitting, because he would absolutely love nothing more.

“My name is Okita Souji, the 1st captain of the Shinsengumi!”

Tonight, for the last time, he will be the Shinsengumi’s sword. Okita Souji smiles, and allows himself to fall into the familiar embrace of the battlefield.

Goodbye, Hijikata-san.

#xposted on ao3 #hakuoki #hakuouki #jesus christ i can't believe im back on tumblr and writing fanfics #fanfic #tl;dr okita simping a lot

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adhd-ahamilton · 3 years

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I got to see Hamilton in Sydney!!

It was a seriously, seriously amazing time – I was always worried that by the time I finally got to see Hamilton on stage (I was even supposed to see it in America last year lmfao) it wouldn’t mean the same anymore. And like, obviously it’s not my hyperfixation anymore. But even like this, it was still an incredible experience! I always figured that the recording would focus more on close-ups and the like because you can’t really see that on stage, but you really can see so much of what’s going on when you see it live and the whole stage is full of things to notice!

I have a lot of thoughts about it (mainly about the Australian cast, though some of these things could just be live performance things)!

Firstly, only two lines had their wordings changed:

* ‘John Adams doesn’t have a real job, anyway’ → ‘Vice president is not a real job, anyway.’ This got a good laugh from the audience; obviously it was changed to preserve the joke, since most Aussies wouldn’t have a good idea of who John Adams was. (I explained the joke when I watched the recording with my parents.)

* ‘Weehawken. Dawn.’ → ‘Jersey. Dawn.’ This was a bit of a surprise, but the more I think about it the more it makes sense. Aussies also wouldn’t know Weehawken (I didn’t even get that he was referring to a place when I first heard it), while Jersey is very clear because they already made a joke about it. (That one didn’t get much of a laugh though, ofc lol) And it’s actually more consistent because later they do say ‘we were near the same spot my son died, is that why’ so they drive that connection even deeper.

I don’t think there were any other music/staging/choreography differences from the recording – just the acting. But ooh, this really was differently-acted!

Hamilton

I love Lin-Manuel Miranda. I love his energy and enthusiasm and intelligence and his optimism. But while I loved his dorky version of Hamiton, I have to admit, I didn’t always think it matched up with even the musical’s script, let alone the real person. This Hamilton, though? I kept thinking about all the ways he felt different from the original, and almost every time, it was like ‘yeah, this feels more like what I know of the real Hamilton.’ (Or at least, the Hamilton we wrote about in fic.)

This Hamilton is aggressive and prickly. Up until Helpless, we don’t really see him smile – which makes sense, y’know, with ‘talk less, smile more.’ When he confronts Burr at the beginning of the play, he doesn’t have Miranda’s overly energetic and talkative air, he’s more pushy and too intense. You really feel like, oh, yeah, he’s just walking up to someone on the street and badgering them into telling him about their life story. When he says ‘God, I wish there was a war’ he’s less naive and more so hyperfocused on his goal he doesn’t notice he’s said something super insensitive. When Burr says ‘You wanna get ahead?’ his ‘Yes’ isn’t quiet and firm, it’s more ‘yes obviously, nobody would not want to get ahead, so just hurry up and tell me already.’

And that’s just in the first couple of songs! He continues on like this, with that kind of burning intensity and hot temper, through the musical, though ofc it softens at important times. Importantly, his relationship with Burr is largely based in frustration. When he does ‘My Shot’, it honestly feels less like he’s singing to impress the guys and more like he’s challenging Burr and everything he just told him; I’m sure I saw him glancing back at Burr several times. Likewise, when he tells Burr to go get Theodosia, it’s not questioning – he’s outright saying that if he really loved her, he’d take any risk for her. And in Schuyler Defeated, his ‘Burr?’ isn’t questioning there, either – he’s already angry, he’s just demanding his attention. He genuinely seems to like Burr in a weird way that even he might not understand at times, but for the most part he just seems to find him really frustrating and is always trying to incite him to do more.

This Hamilton also feels very independent, and even aloof. In The Story of Tonight, while the other guys are totally sincere and moved by it all, Hamilton feels sorta… distant. At one point he half walks off until Laurens brings him back, which I think happens in the recording as well, but here I especially felt like that was how he was ‘really’ feeling. Not that he was being manipulative or lying in any way, just that he couldn’t be in the moment because he was still stuck in his head thinking about the future. And the whole way through, he very rarely seems to properly open up – my friend said afterwards that Hurricane hits so much harder when it’s the first time he’s really vulnerable in the entire musical. Which is basically how it happens.

It’s funny – you think of Hamilton and Burr as being contrasting this way, with Burr keeping his cards close to his chest and not revealing what he really wants until The Room Where It Happens, but this Hamilton doesn’t feel far off. But rather than keeping a secret per se, it’s more… he has such an incredibly strong, intense drive, and you’re never super certain where it comes from. And in Hurricane, it suddenly becomes clear – all this time, he’s still caught up in that trauma, and still feels like he needs to fight and scrape just to survive, even when it turns into this self-destructive impulse. Honestly, Hurricane has always been kind of a weird song – he’s been corrupted and is not the most sympathetic beforehand, but then you get this grand slow inspiring song talking about how he suffered in the past and overcame it, but THEN you cut to an almost comedic number about how he fucked everything up for himself and his family. In Miranda’s version, that mood up-and-down always felt a little too jarring. Here it made perfect sense – it was so shocking to see how vulnerable he was at the beginning, and then the song isn’t just repeating what we learned in the beginning, it’s explaining what he’s been keeping deep down all along, but also making it clear that this is manic and awful and destructive.

Part of that is the singing, too. This Hamilton can rap really well, but his singing voice is startlingly gentle and beautiful. It really helps to get across the sincerity of his feelings in Helpless, Dear Theodosia, and as I said Hurricane. On the other hand, there are also times his voice just goes flat, like there are so many emotions he can’t process them – you see that a bit in My Shot when he gets worried (‘I never had a group of friends before’), but it REALLY stings when he says ‘I have so much work to do.’ That hit me way harder than Miranda’s version :(

However, when you combine this Hamilton’s aloofness with that certainty and intelligence, you also get a version of him that is particularly… ironic? He’s always crossing his arms (when he’s not rubbing his face with a palm; those two gestures repeat constantly through the play), and kinda stepping back and Watching people, with a bit of a sense of self-important and even patronising judgement. This is very much ‘So quick-witted!’ ‘Alas, I admit it.’ He definitely does come across like a dude who thinks he is ‘smartest in the room,’ and puts way too much stock in his own opinion. Particularly with Burr whenever they were getting along there was a distinct sense of ‘You know what? I actually think you’re pretty interesting. And my positive judgement is hard to come by, so that’s a big compliment.’ (Burr does not seem to get this weirdly condescending vibe though, lol.) Honestly…. I gotta admit: I really don’t like people like that, haha – though I can’t say it’s entirely inappropriate for Hamilton characterisation. This Hamilton genuinely feels difficult, and that matches up to what happens in the script.

But, the consequence is that after Hurricane, some of the later songs didn’t have quite as much of an impact on me as in the original. In It’s Quite Uptown, I could somehow never quite lose that vision of Hamilton as a bit sarcastic and superior – the way he rubs at his face in grief still just felt a little… put-on and theatrical, like you can hear the frustrated sigh underneath. And this is a song that demands complete, total, unrelenting vulnerability – Miranda’s Hamilton sounds like he’s dying the whole time and that makes the emotional stakes really felt. Maybe it’s that his voice was TOO gentle in this song – Miranda’s more awkward voice actually adds to the exhausted brokenness of the situation?

And finally, when we got to The World Was Wide Enough… Miranda’s speech there in the silence might just be my favourite sequence in the entire musical, so I think anyone else would have struggled to match up to that. It doesn’t help that I was distracted trying to figure out Burr in this scene (which I’ll get to later). It was still beautiful, of course, but ‘What is a legacy?’ just feels so so very Lin-Manuel Miranda and anyone else singing that just doesn’t feel the same.

Overall, I really really enjoyed this version of Alexander Hamilton – as I said, he felt much closer to the actual characterisation I always imagined for him. And this one showed some really fascinating vulnerability in unexpected places, even if the ending didn’t quite land as well for me.

Burr

This Burr was really, really fascinating as well – an interpretation that feels different all the way through, but really pays off at the end with something very striking.

So, something the group of us all agreed was that this Burr felt a lot more like the ‘trust fund baby’ he calls himself. There’s something elegant and refined about him, a rich person who is used to moving through the world as a person to be admired. He’s actually quite graceful, somehow, even though he barely dances? But that also really brings to the fore one particular element – entitlement. (Seriously, my mum is physically incapable of bringing up Burr without mentioning the word ‘entitled’, lol.)

This is a Burr who is used to not having to work for things. He just sort of expects things to fall into his lap, eventually, in contrast to Hamilton. The world will eventually shape to match his desires – that’s how things work. Even in the latter part of the musical, it doesn’t so much feel like he needs to fight and scrape like Hamilton to get ahead, but more like… getting ahead is his birthright, and he just needs to effect that inevitable change into the world. But I’ll get to all that later.

The other thing my friend said was that this Burr feels very much like a preacher’s son, and the more I thought about that the more I agree. There’s something almost… toxically positive about him – the smiles don’t feel two-faced and manipulative so much as maybe like, wilfully ignorant? There’s a very ‘Don’t fret, God will work things out in the end :)’ feel about him, actually. But there’s also something deeply naive in him. Leslie Odom Junior’s version also had some of that genuine lack of understanding – when he muses in confusion over Hamilton in Wait For It, or when his face scrunches in confusion when he says ‘I don’t see why that has to end’ in Schuyler Defeated, and this one does all that, but it feels like an even more inescapable part of his character.

Like, there’s something about this Burr that is just a bit… lame. A bit ‘Hello Fellow Kids.’ But, intentionally!! As I said, he’s a preacher’s son. When he tries to act kinda cool or badass, it just doesn’t quite work. When he interacts with the other guys, even as he smiles wanly and shakes it off when they insult him, you feel like he does still want to be – or even think he is? - part of that group of cool young men. He’s just too… nice, almost. I felt a little more bad during The Story Of Tonight (Reprise) and all. And he seems to take it really earnestly that Hamilton likes him, even if, like I said, there’s a sorta superior quality coming from Hamilton.

He just comes across more naive. Rather than a manipulator, this Burr comes across as more of a shameless Yes Man, who doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with what he’s doing. But I also sort of felt like other characters easily saw through him, and Burr didn’t quite realise that. Like with Jefferson, it sorta felt like he thought he was being really strategic but Jefferson was just like ‘sure, this guy works as an ally, even if he’s kinda annoying.’

And when it comes to Wait For It… the song makes it clear that bad things have happened to him – he hasn’t gone through life without suffering – but he hasn’t had the same reaction Hamilton has had. While Hamilton learned nothing will come to him unless he takes it, it feels like Burr learned that things will just… happen to him, good or bad, and he can’t control it. Nothing that has ever really affected Burr has been of his choice – he inherited his position, and then his parents died, and all of that was just the uncontrollable whim of the universe. Leslie Odom Junior’s version emphasised the ‘I am the one thing I can control’ aspect a bit more – you feel that that version really had worked hard and struggled for the sake of his studies and job, but this Wait For It gave me a very uncomfortable feeling of being trapped. It’s as though everything about him is already decided, and even his efforts aren’t personal decisions so much as just what was natural and expected of him to do.

And that makes the second half of the story feel very different for him. In Leslie Odom Junior’s version, we see him take that self-control to new levels – that realisation that there is something that means as much to him as all of that drive and intensity Hamilton puts out, and it’s his own ambition. That he does want that, and he will have to fight and get his hand dirty to make it happen. As the story goes on, he becomes increasingly desperate and fearful, understanding more and more what it was to be that kid in the hurricane, becoming viscerally aware that terrible things can and will happen to him unless he stops them.

This Burr doesn’t feel like that. His downfall isn’t frantic. It’s very very cold.

In The Room Where It Happens, yes, his ambition crystallises and he changes strategy. But it feels less like an electric jolt, or an earthquake, and more of an epiphany. It’s okay for him to do these things. It’s right. He belongs in the room where it happens. Whatever he does to bring him there is by definition right and good.

He honestly seems to be feeling good through much of it. He’s so smiley when he comes up to Jefferson. He seems even more confused than Leslie’s Burr when Hamilton is actually mad at him for unseating Schuyler. And in The Election of 1800, there’s nothing of the original’s tired, manic energy, like he’s pushing himself to the brink and plastering on a smile to get through it. When this Burr campaigns, he’s energized and charismatic and friendly and filled with almost a kind of serenity. Like this is what he was born to do. His future is almost here – he just needs to reach out a little and it will be in his grasp.

Which, brief aside here while I analyse this haha – so, in Australia, a big part of our culture is what is called Tall Poppy Syndrome. i.e., an instinctive bitterness and hostility towards those who are perceived to stand above others. It’s often described as an aggression towards successful people, but I think that’s only part of it. Australians would describe their culture as breezy and casual and relaxed, but there’s also something disaffected about it, IMO. You’re not meant to ever take anything too seriously. Yes, we all take the piss out of politicians, but it’s sorta ‘lame’ to really seriously oppose them, too. It’s like our culture is stuck in the mindset of a self-conscious fifteen year old, where we’re all sorta lazily cynical and ‘bluntly honest’, but you’re not supposed to ever actually do anything about it all. Caring too much is kinda embarrassing. You’re just supposed to make fun of people and keep living your life. We don’t get the same fundamentalist groups intent on forcing their viewpoint on society like America does, but we also don’t get the same idealists who fervently believe that if we work hard we can make things better. They exist, for sure. But… well, it’s hard for me to imagine an Australian Leslie Knope, you know? (Who, btw, is one of my favourite fictional characters of all time, for reference.)

Watching Burr in The Election of 1800, I was struck by a memory. It was an Australian season of The Amazing Race, and on top of all of the typical relaxed Australian reality show contenders (seriously, I don’t know what the fuck Drag Race Down Under is on, that is the most un-Australian reality show I have ever SEEN), there was one couple that were I suppose Go-Getters. The type who eat healthily (probably vegan) and get up every morning in their athleisure to work out at the gym or go for runs. They were peppy and enthusiastic and they announced with huge smiles that they were going to WIN this! And the other contestants absolutely despised them. At one point, they did something to attract specific ire – honestly, it was probably nothing more than just not helping another duo who were going the wrong way, because in Australian reality shows everyone helps. But after that, multiple groups all ganged up to sabotage them. They took such delight in watching these two cheery people’s optimism flag, so very self-assured in having taught them to ‘not take yourself too seriously.’ Burr, as he was campaigning, reminded me of them.

It’s really telling, I think, that Burr is the one who reminded me a little of Leslie Knope, here – albeit obviously a much darker version. The kind of person who dorkily believes in the system and puts himself out there unselfconsciously, whose wide smiles are unironic and unmocking. In the original, Lin Manuel Miranda actually compared Hamilton to Leslie Knope at one point, with Hamilton’s ‘thirty years of disagreements.’ It’s a very Australian thing, to make Hamilton less earnest and more aloof and sarcastic, to make his anger as much about frustration with other people as about believing in something himself, and to make Burr, by comparison, sincere. Australians don’t really trust sincerity. Honesty is to be framed as an insulting joke, and Burr is just too polite to do that.

When the results come, Burr’s serene smile only very very slowly fades. Before his expression really drops, he turns away. When Your Obedient Servant starts, he’s quiet. The whole time he sings, he’s measured and controlled and entirely certain of himself. He doesn’t have LOJ’s grit or spikes in volume on ‘just to keep me from winning.’ He’s unnervingly quiet.

Even into The World Was Wide Enough this continues. In the original, Burr is outright frantic. He’s desperate and shaking with anger and fear, and when he points at Hamilton’s glasses and the like, you can feel that he actually isn’t sure of himself – that he’s trying to justify this to himself and knows he sounds crazy, but he just can’t pull back now. His voice shakes and goes up and down. When he says ‘we were near the same spot his son died, is that way?’ it rises and when he says ‘this man will not make an orphan of my daughter’ he cracks in real tears, like the mention of Philip reminded him of what’s at stake here, like that really is the reason he’ll kill him. This Burr stays quiet and cold. He doesn’t waver.

If that Burr was desperate, this one feels… and I hope this doesn’t sound like a joke: like a thwarted rich nice guy. The other Burr learned from Hamilton too well, and is replicating his self-destructive energy. This Burr hasn’t learned anything at all. Winning is still his birthright, and Hamilton has stolen that from him. Burr deserves it, and he deserves to punish Hamilton for this. It’s not an explosion of shock, a scrabbling for purchase in this new chaotic world that will doom them both. It’s vindictive. Burr knows what he is doing and he wants to hurt Hamilton for all Hamilton has hurt him.

After the shot, I was surprised to find myself not tearing up as I expected (usually, these two last songs always get me). With the original Burr, his singing is laced with pain as much as regret. When he repeats ‘death doesn’t discriminate’, we feel his sorrow as he fits Hamilton into the same kind of category as his parents and wife, as someone important to him who died. When he says ‘he may have been the first one who died, but I’m the one who paid for it,’ we understand that he’s referring to the depth of his grief. That having to live with knowing he killed Hamilton feels, in this moment, worse than death.

This Burr is still cold. And when he finally gets to it, and says ‘I’m the one who paid for it,’ he looks away. He almost spits. His face is contorted in bitterness. It’s rough and gritty, for the first time in the entire musical.

I can remember it vividly – it was shocking to see, and sends shivers through me to remember. I’d been waiting for that cathartic sadness, but it wasn’t here. This Burr, deep down, didn’t feel for Hamilton, at least in the end. He was pissed off because for once in his life his actions had consequences. Because of Hamilton, he had fucked up his life forever. His worldview had been shattered. And at that moment, that was all he could think about – that resignation and bitterness and anger. All along, maybe, he had been nice only because he’d had no reason not to be. Once it didn’t benefit him, and his pride and entitlement were damaged, he showed who he truly was.

It… was an experience, lol. Honestly I think it was partly lost on me because I so loved the original version and was like working myself up ready for a good cry here, so I didn’t get to just sit and take the full impact – I kept searching for a grief or fear that wasn’t there. But I don’t think this version is bad! It’s a very valid interpretation of Burr, and it was extremely fascinating to see unfold.

If I have one critique, it’s that one kind of problem with the whole Australian show is that the performances lacked grit. I really wanted more edge, more aggression, more intensity of those emotions – something more sharp and shocking. Hamilton delivers this kind of thing at times, especially early on, but ofc it fades away in the end. Jefferson, as I’ll get to, is too smooth-talking while also having that cold serene kind of anger. When we lack both Hamilton’s broken It’s Quiet Uptown and Burr’s frantic ‘this man will not make an orphan of my daughter’, we don’t get those life and death stakes quite as highly. By focusing all of Burr’s anger in one line, I think the rest of the songs didn’t have as much of an impact as I’d like.

But!! I really enjoyed this interpretation, and I’d love to see it again knowing what’s coming!

Eliza

OKAY nobody else is going to get those huge walls of text lmaoooo

Anyway this Eliza wasn’t a super different interpretation than Phillipa Soo’s, but I think she pulled it off at least as well, if not even better?

So, the really big obvious thing about this Eliza is her smile. Her actress has this amazing, big toothy grin that feels so lacking in guile, but also still so comforting. It’s so attention-grabbing and almost impossible not to be affected by. It just screams ‘hey, things will turn out okay, so cheer up! :)’ And it’s something that just comes out on Eliza as if on instinct – she’s wearing it through most of That Would Be Enough, and at the end of Take A Break when she escorts Angelica away, and even in Blow You All Away when she’s comforting Phillip or in flickers when describing Hamilton’s old letters in Burn.

The thing about Eliza as a character is that she’s basically defined by her emotional intelligence. She feels as strongly as Hamilton, but where he is uncontrolled and reckless and both self and other destructive, she is the opposite of all of those things. She’s measured and practical and knows exactly who she is and what she wants at all times. She will sacrifice for others, but it’s because she decides to, and if she is hurt, she will not keep herself in harm’s way. It’s an interesting kind of competence and I can understand in theory why it’s cool to have a female character like that even if I, as a neurodivergent mentally ill woman cannot relate in the slightest and feel sorta awkward to be judged against.

This Eliza nails all of that perfectly. She’s effortlessly charming and soothing whenever she wants to be – in That Would Be Enough, when Hamilton is turned away and putting up all of his sharpest bristles, you can feel her become something soft and liquid and find her way up against him regardless without getting hurt. It’s that strength of character that makes their relationship really work – it’s not necessarily that she completely understands him or is good at ‘handling’ him, but that her certainty of purpose and deliberate, skilful compassion make her perfectly suited to calm Hamilton’s deep down insecurities. She loves him entirely and makes him believe that. And when Hamilton responds with his own intensity, she loves that, and believes in that.

And all of that makes it mean so much more when she steps out of that natural mediator role for a moment. In Helpless she’s adorable, so giddy and excited and so clearly crushing on Hamilton with a youthful energy that somehow doesn’t feel all that naive. As she sings she’s constantly glancing back over at him, it’s really cute haha. But she does feel a bit more vulnerable here – it does feel like she’s silently asking for help from Angelica when they talk. More startlingly, there’s Non-Stop – when she calls out ‘Alexander’, it is SHARP. It’s the same kind of tone Hamilton takes when he calls out to Burr in Schuyler Defeated. It’s a bit startling actually, but in a good way.

That tone, I think, foreshadows Burn. Again, I think this Eliza takes the same tone as Philippa Soo, but this version (maybe just because I saw it live!) embodied it even more – she talks about her own desperation to understand, re-reading their old letters, and cites Angelica as back-up, but when she reaches the mid-point, she stops and seems to think. She weighs up the situation and her emotions. And when she says ‘I’m erasing myself from the narrative,’ it is very deliberate and conscious. She is in control of her fate and she can see herself objectively and this is what is just. Her moral core is impenetrable. She sees long arc of the future that Hamilton and Burr are so obsessed with and she says, yes, this is what should be done.

And then in It’s Quiet Uptown, that same self-certainty is there from the very first word. This whole musical, even at her lowest, Eliza has instinctively brought out that comforting, wide smile. Here, her face is expressionless. If Hamilton’s acting here didn’t quite hit my mark, Eliza’s was spot on. The withdrawal of that earlier warmth is all the colder when there is no doubt within her about it, and nobody can argue she’s wrong in that. When she takes Hamilton’s hand, she still doesn’t smile. It’s sad :(

Of all of the final songs, Who Lives Who Dies Who Tells Your Story hit me closest to the original. It’s actually almost jarring to see Eliza ask ‘have I done enough?’ This whole song, we hear a hasty energy to her she’s lacked all musical – the first sign that Hamilton has rubbed off on her, too. But when she asks ‘Will they tell your story?’ it’s still Eliza – this isn’t about a legacy, it’s because she’s still that giddy girl from Helpless who loves him and wants to do everything she can for the people she loves.

(Whenever she and Hamilton see each other but appear to walk past one another, only to circle around and meet in the middle again, I cry lmao;;)

Her gasp at the end is soft and quiet and delighted, as though she just spotted someone in the crowd who she hasn’t seen in years and can’t wait to catch up.

If I have one critique, it’s the lack of grit again. Her scream at Philip’s death wasn’t as wild and destroyed as Phillipa Soo’s, and while I like her gasp, I prefer the original’s shocked, overwhelming joy.

Overall though, she was extremely good! Her charisma was just blinding, but it was in that perfectly ‘mundane’ way you’d expect from Eliza. But that solid, immovable core always shone through. They really sold her relationship with Hamilton, too!

Angelica

This is the one I feel like I have the least to say about. My mum said she was the only character who just couldn’t quite match up to the original, and I don’t really agree, but I don’t have a huge amount to say, either.

This Angelica felt a bit older and more mature than Goldsberry. The original Angelica has a bit of brashness and vivid emotion to her – a bit more out there and exaggerated in her actions and expressions. More bold but also more chaotic. This one was a bit more quiet and considering. Diplomatic, maybe?

I actually worried when I first saw her that she wouldn’t be able to carry Satisfied because she was too confident and capable I wouldn’t be able to believe her vulnerability, but no, she pulled that off perfectly. When she was standing in the dark there in the end, the sadness radiated from her.

I actually got a lot more chemistry between her and Hamilton this time; I always thought I disliked the relationship in that canon because of my grudge against how LMM wrote it, but maybe it’s just that LMM was too old for her lmao. You’d think her quietness would contrast with Hamilton’s pushiness, but if anything it feels like she can just eyebrow-arch off his usual way of getting under people’s skin – when she says ‘you forget yourself’ it’s subtly disapproving, then when he delivers the punchline, it’s like he proves himself enough to earn her respect. Indeed, their mutual aloofness actually suits them both really well. You can just imagine them working together, quietly sharing their judgements on everyone else in the room around them. They’d be a terrifying power couple, and that really connects up to her advice in Take a Break.

I don’t have as much to say about the rest of the musical though. (actually IDK if that’s all partly just because by the end my ADHD brain had to work a lot harder to keep up, lol.) Her piece in The Reynalds Pamphlet did the job, and her singing in It’s Quiet Uptown was beautiful.

I guess, if I had to contrast them, the original Angelica felt more spirited and aggressive – very ‘you want a revolution? I want a revelation!’ - while this one felt more like the settled head of the family who already had her place but understood the world perfectly and knew she’d have to pick and choose what she wanted most. (...spoken like that she sounds like a big contrast to Burr, funnily enough?)

Lafayette/Jefferson

So not too much to say about Lafayette – the guy pretty much did him the same as Daveed Diggs, and pulling that off is very impressive but there isn’t too much to analyse here. If anything the Lafayette felt slightly less bright and cheery than the original, which may have been done to contrast with Jefferson.

Jefferson, on the other hand, was quite different. Diggs’ version is very loud and kinda abrasive and arrogant – always smiling and bouncing but with something clearly malicious lying behind all of that. He’s got a harshness to him, deliberately intimidating and surprisingly authentic in what he reveals of himself. He’s a villain character who’s fun to watch because he’s having fun himself and you gotta admire his balls.

This Jefferson is much more smooth and manipulative – maybe taking over from what Burr sometimes delves into? When he first appears, he plays to the crowd, encouraging the cheers, but it’s less arrogance and more like, he’s a celebrity putting on a show. He’s friendly and cheerful all through What’d I Miss?, disarmingly enjoyable to watch. He’s someone who knows the crowd and likes the crowd and is very very good and getting what he wants from the crowd without making it obvious he’s doing that. He’s definitely the type of #relatable celebrity fans would really want to defend.

But Hamilton represents a very clear change to his status quo. He starts off singing What’d I Miss? just in a fun, conversation-starting way as a rhetorical question, but after Hamilton introduces himself, he seems genuinely taken-aback. His last ‘What’d I miss?’ sounds like a genuine question, like, ‘wait wtf what’s going on here all of a sudden?’

And then we get the Cabinet Battles. Despite the above, Jefferson starts off his argument oozing with relaxed confidence. He doesn’t need to take any of this seriously – it’s already in the bag! Everyone loves him and as long as he makes some nice jokes and smiles disarmingly enough, he’ll always get what he want. And then Hamilton starts talking. And he’s pushy and hostile and sarcastic and mocking and angry and superior. And the whole time, Jefferson stands straight and Stares at him. We get none of Diggs’ ‘Haha, this guy is a riot! :D’ type of energy – this Jefferson is deeply displeased, and he is watching very, very carefully to take stock of the situation so he can put an end to it.

It’s actually really well done IMO – when the crowd oohed and ahhed, it felt like a 50/50 of ‘what the hell, people aren’t supposed to DISAGREE with Jefferson!’ and also ‘holy shit this guy is acting like an actual obnoxious child who needs to stfu right now.’ Both Jefferson’s easy entitlement and Hamilton’s unhelpful abrasiveness really got across.

In the second battle, Jefferson is much more careful. Whether it’s because he isn’t underestimating Hamilton anymore or because he cares much more about this, there’s an unamused urgency underlying everything he says. He still tries to be friendly and charming and diplomatic, but his smile drops often. This issue is important and he is not going to back down on it. It’s actually still not quite as immaturely insulting as Hamilton – more like, ‘can we stop humoring this asshole kid already and do something we very much need to be doing?’

(Also fun fact: in The Room Where It Happens, when we get to Jefferson’s version of events, Hamilton’s ‘I had nowhere else to turn’ is SO fake and sarcastic it was really funny, like even the Hamilton in Jefferson’s head can’t bring himself to actually say that sincerely.)

So, when we get to Washington On Your Side, he’s cold. At the time, he contrasts well with Burr, who is all smiles and surprisingly relaxed. This Jefferson is more like Angelica, quietly analysing the situation and slowly coming to a plan. The difference between cold, planning Jefferson and smooth-talking Jefferson is also great.

Because of all this, he has less of the really comedic stuff the original Jefferson got, with the exaggerated expressions and movements – in We Know, he’s more struck dumb by everything than the more over the top reactions Diggs did. But the controlled coldness contrasts with Hamilton better – it makes sense that he was the one who successfully connived himself to the top. And we get much more of that contrast between public and private Jefferson that is one of the interesting real-world meta statements, where who is was to the people and who he actually was were very different.

…….I think I had some kind of impression of ‘because I’m the president’ but I can’t remember what it was anymore. Hrm.

Anyway: enjoyed!!

Mulligan/Madison

So, how I’ve been saying the show lacked grit? I honestly think it might’ve all just collected in Hercules Mulligan lmao – obviously his parts are meant to be bold and brash and powerful, but these ones hit even harder than usual. His part in The World Turned Upside Down was just so Loud I could feel it in my chest! Great performance, I loved it!

Madison was very very different naturally, but also very different from the original version? While the original Madison felt tired and a bit disgruntled, like he was exhausted by Jefferson’s in-your-faceness and just wanted to get this done so he could get back to his work, his one felt much happier to be there. This Madison felt like he actually saw himself as Jefferson’s teammate, like he considered himself part of the show and was happy (even smug) to be helping out. When Jefferson passes him the microphone, rather than say ‘France’ with an irritated expression as if to say ‘everyone already knows this, just get on with it already’, it feels more like this Madison already rehearsed this with Jefferson deliberately. He calls out ‘France,’ as though it is some incredible zinger, like he’s been given the mic drop here. It’s pretty cute haha!

Overall this Madison felt a lot younger. Talking afterwards my mum mentioned that Mulligan’s role is hard because he has to switch to playing ‘an old man’, and was pretty surprised when I said Madison was actually the same age as Hamilton. This version felt a lot more age-appropriate. He still gets sick and starts coughing (and it feels a lot meaner when Hamilton makes fun of him! The dude was just so happy to be here – let him have his zingers!!), but aside from that he thrums with nervous energy behind Jefferson, like he’s ready to help out anytime he’s needed.

In all, he kinda feels like he fulfils that certain comedic henchman trope a bit? It really comes together with the ‘Can we get back to politics?’ ‘:’( please!!’ exchange. Madison isn’t made fun of, per se – it’s not like he really does enough in the script to get that kind of attention. But he’s just a bit funnier and more sympathetic, while also strangely feeling more like he and Jefferson are an actual team. (I mean, Jefferson hands him the mic as though he’s setting up a zinger, too. They’re both a bit ridiculous!)

Laurens/Phillip

Okay, this was one I was really curious about, for obvious reasons – LMM always sorta made it out that since he never included any of the Hamilton/Laurens stuff in the script, he kinda tried to act it in there more. In Story of Tonight or Ten Duel Commandments, or even briefly in the opening song, there’s meant to be a closeness that hints, however subtle, at that relationship.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get that at all here.

Laurens’ casting surprised me at first – he’s super short and extremely baby-faced, to the point that I wondered if he wasn’t played by a cis man. (His actor is a man, though, though ofc I wouldn’t know if he’s cis or not.) I was kinda confused about that all through the first act… until I got to the second act and, uh, remembered. But despite this – perhaps because of it? - he is an absolute firecracker. He’s hot-headed and rough and determined and every bit the young impassioned soldier.

He’s a bit more naive in the early songs – he seems genuinely friendly with Hamilton in The Story of Tonight, and you feel like he really does just like him from the moment he hears Non-Stop – but like I said, Hamilton is still pretty closed-off through all of that, so… it doesn’t really feel mutual. Hamilton likes him fine, but it doesn’t feel like he cares as much as Laurens does.

In Satisfied, he indeed seems super drunk, but it’s more like he’s just too young and drinking too much at a party than anything. The only time I really felt any particular chemistry between him and Hamilton actually comes from Story of Tonight Reprise – when Hamilton wanders off to speak with Burr, in sincere friendship, and Laurens comes over and starts ribbing Burr about his girl with almost malicious energy, it did sort of feel a little like he was jealous, if only that Hamilton and he had been talking so easily.

Finally, we get to Stay Alive. There, Hamilton and Laurens are just so angry and disgusted with Lee that they don’t really have room for anything else. It’s all very focused and determined and Manly, without any time for something softer or close between them. And I’m not sure how to feel about that. Laurens’ revulsion for Lee is historical record, and it says a lot about him and his values that that was so important to him. But there are other important parts of Laurens – that worry and fear and insecurity inside him, that ended up being so damaging to him. In such a limited script for him, ‘Alexander, you’re the closest friend I’ve got’ is really his one chance to show some of those emotions before he dies. Instead, Laurens never really gets to show that vulnerability, and I worry that it makes him feel too much like a ‘generic soldier character.’

I wonder if it’s because this Laurens looked so youthful that they sort of overcompensated, and felt the need to make him extra manly to make it clear he belonged there despite his appearance. But it sort of felt a bit too… macho for me. Nowhere to be found is that 18th century romantic friendship. Instead, it’s been replaced by a more WWI era Comrade and Comrade type deal. They’d die for each other, but would they write romantic letters to one another? And I think this is also unfortunately pretty Australian – real emotion is lame!! The only acceptable emotion is fucking hating your boss, and challenging him to a duel with your squadmate to get him what he deserves.

Well, I’m reading too much into it all, lol. But I always felt like the original Laurens barely got to show much of himself as it was, and this one felt even less so, unfortunately.

His final scene – is it We May Not Live To See Your Glory? - is done well, though. Again, Laurens just sorta feels like a generic young soldier, but ‘idealistic soldier who died too young’ is moving enough on its own. And in one of those rare moments, Hamilton really does feel shaken and vulnerable. ‘I have so much work to do,’ as I said, hurts – so lifeless and unlike him. Like nothing could process those emotions in him now, or express them.

Philip, on the other hand, is the exact opposite. First of all, yeah – having a shorter, younger-looking actor makes that Take a Break scene WAY less awkward, haha. It wasn’t even funny, it was just like ‘oh huh this just kinda looks all right?’ And the actor did really well playing a kid! He looked like a completely different person there, which is really good.

And then we get to Blow You All Away, and hoo boyy. If Laurens had been excessively confident, Phillip oozes uncertainty with everything he does. When he flirts with the girls ‘when I come back we’ll all strip down to our socks’ he manages to pull off the cocky act but in basically every other line you can see and hear the ‘a-am I doing this right? I’m not screwing this up, am I?’ radiating off of him. He definitely believes he’s doing the right thing – when he says ‘you talk about my father I will not let it slide’ there’s no hesitation – it’s just that he very clearly isn’t sure if he’s up to the task of doing it.

It was sorta interesting, actually – I think the original Phillip was more naively overconfident and reckless, and only had an attack of the nerves after he got himself into the duel. But – and this might just be me projecting here, lol – when this Philip confronts Eacker in the theatre, I got a real sense of like… ‘??? can I do this here? Where are you meant to threaten duels???’ and when Eacker is like ‘piss off, I’m watching this show now’ he seemed to wilt a lot, and straight up froze for a second or two, like he really didn’t know what to do at that point. And then of course when he talks to Hamilton he’s really worried…

And then his death. Somehow, I never used to cry much when this happened – it’s obviously very sad, but it didn’t manage to hit the right heartstrings to make crying, even in the recording. But oh god, this one was just awful… Even as he’s dying, Philip is still just so desperate for approval, like he’s so scared his parents will be mad at him for screwing it up, and Eliza is trying so hard to reassure him before he dies… I cried a lot :(

So overall, I really liked this Phillip, even if I don’t necessarily think it’s an improvement to the original. Laurens I kinda preferred the original, though this was still an interesting interpretation that gave me a lot to think about!

Washington

The guy did well! He has what Washington needs, and that’s a stature. When he’s on stage, your eyes are just naturally drawn to him. Even when he’s not doing much, he’s still a little intimidating. He has presence!

And in fact, this actor had an interesting quirk where the whites of his eyes could be seen easily? In Right-Hand Man, as he’s striding around at the center of the stage, his eyes just looked white, and it drilled in that slightly manic, crazed intensity underlying his strict, rigid rapping and self-control. It have the whole thing a really great effect.

But this Washington also had a sort of almost… slight fem-ness to him, that I didn’t get as much from the initial? It’s funny how during One Last Time, I suddenly got this vivid though, ‘oh, it’s like he’s a cool supportive teacher.’ Which… obviously?? Haha. Like he’s clearly a mentor to Hamilton all the way through! But it’s that specifically teacher description I really felt all of a sudden, that he was warm and approachable and gentle at heart, despite everything I said above lol.

Like, I feel like this Washington was just a bit less stoic than the original? Slightly more expressive and less stern. When he says ‘I’m from Virginia, so watch your mouth,’ in the original, it sounded like he was genuinely kinda offended? It was ‘watch your mouth’ as in ‘don’t disrespect my home state.’ But in this one, Washington sorta grimaces a little theatrically and says it more incredulously, like he’s actually saying ‘you wanna maybe try thinking about who you’re talking to before you say that shit, son?’ It’s more of a warning – less that he’s upset and more that other people would be, so he should really try thinking before he speaks.

He also still does the part in Who Lives Who Dies Who Tells Your Story when Eliza says she spoke out against slavery and he kinda stumbles and stares and then looks down in shame, given the real Washington’s actions.

I liked him! I felt a little more warmly to him in the end than the original, but that might just be a product of seeing it live.

Peggy/Maria

Okay so I don’t really have anything to say about Peggy, which had basically always been the case, hah. :’) I mean, I think this version made the transformation between her initial wariness vs her later excitement more clear? But that is very likely a live show thing.

Maria, though!! Honestly? I was never really a fan of the original Maria’s performance. She just feels too much like a cliched seductress archetype, and while you can argue that that’s the role she plays in the story, especially since there’s the uncertainty over whether or not she was deliberately setting Hamilton up, it just feels too on the nose. It makes it harder to believe Hamilton didn’t know what was up the moment he saw her, which I don’t think is intentional. And it makes me feel bad for the real Maria Reynolds.

But this one was very different – much more vulnerable. When she first talks to Hamilton, she’s not doing a sexy pout and throaty singing, she’s just sorta… quiet and monotone and lost, much like Hamilton gets when he’s too emotional as well. Like she’s in shock and truly has nowhere to go is just sort of crumpling as a person. And when she propositions Hamilton, again it feels sincere – she just wants him to stay.

And after he talks to James Reynolds (just as perfectly, theatrically assholish as in the original), that continues. When he confronts her, she genuinely seems desperate and scared and upset. I felt so, so sorry for her that I was yelling in my head right then ‘you can’t just leave her now!’ at Hamilton – and then immediately remembered what that’d mean… it’s a much more gripping situation.

And then in the end, James Reynolds walks off and claps, and Maria just stops, face and body entirely stoic, and follows after him in silence… Is that an indication it was all an act from her? Or is it that she’s so scared of him that she totally closes up and can’t cry, can’t show any kind of emotion or weakness around him, and just has to try and be a silent and flawless wife? No matter how you interpret it, it’s chilling.

Oh, and IDK if this is done in the recording, but in The Reynolds Pamphlet, she gets given one, too, and her look of just… upset/disgust is also really painful. At the end they say ‘his poor wife’, but who thinks about poor Maria?? :(

I still wouldn’t say that this is an accurate adaptation of the real events, since I think that gets right into the script and structure of Hamilton in ways that a regional performance just can’t really make better. But this version is at least better. It plays Maria with more dignity, I think, than making her into a sexy bombshell, even if that bombshell act does get subverted in the original as well. This one feels significantly more sympathetic.

King George

He was great!! He was played by an older actor who seems to have done a lot of serious Shakespearian plays, which of course makes him absolutely perfect – both in that he could flawlessly depict that pompous old privileged Brit, but also in that he probably has a good backing in comedy and political satire :P He was clearly having the time of his life playing to the crowd – throughout all his time on stage he was constantly alternating between doing one or two lines very serious and mostly straight, before doing something absolutely hilarious. That back and forth worked extremely well!

Also I never saw it properly on the recording but when he gets up and dances in the middle of the stage during the Reynolds Pamphlet?? AMAZING.

Obviously, Johnathon Groff is his own personality and is friends with LMM and brings all of that unique stuff to the table that nobody could replicate. But this actor was just as much fun to watch, and does have the added benefit of really looking and sounding the part.

Final Thoughts

I’d really love to hear other people’s thoughts on this run, especially from the perspective of it being an Australian cast/audience – I really hoped the booklet would include at least a piece or two from someone who worked on this run, but it did not. (In fact, it was one of the scantest musical books I’ve seen? I don’t regret buying it as a souvenir of course but usually they have at least one or two interesting pieces of new content aside from just backstage pics…)

What really sticks out to me is the structure of it all. Hamilton is definitely the central character that brings everything together through the first ¾, but around The Room Where it Happens Burr starts to take over bit by bit, allowing him to keep up the energy as Hamilton falls back further and further into becoming both less of a hero but also more quiet and passive. By The Election of 1800, Burr is giving us all the energy – until the end of The World Was Wide Enough, when he too falls back and Eliza takes over.

Given this, this Hamilton did an incredible job throughout most of the performance – he had amazing chemistry with every other character and really exemplified that scrappy, intelligent, driven, but aggressive and difficult character that never quite shined through in LMM’s performance for me. Burr’s more subtle performance complements that well, and he even arguably outdoes Leslie Odom Junior in The Election of 1800. However, after that I think his quieter acting and singing sort of fails to fill the hole Hamilton left behind, reducing the climax a bit of its energy. Thankfully, Eliza was able to bring that all back for her final number.

It also strikes me that this performance is a bit less teary, at least from the men. Eliza, Angelica, and Maria all bring out that vulnerability and the sadness of their positions wonderfully – a great improvement in Maria’s case, for me. However, Burr’s The World Was Wide Enough severely downplays the sincere regret angle, while Hamilton never quite hits the right notes on It’s Quiet Uptown. However, Hurricane and Phillip’s performance in Blow You All Away definitely hit that fear and panic leading to self-destruction. (Interesting I guess that Burr doesn’t also seem more fearful in The World Was Wide Enough?) Is that also a gendered expectations thing, perhaps?

Either way, I’m extremely glad I was able to see it if only for Hamilton’s performance – honestly, maybe the reason it seemed to lose a lil steam was just that Hurricane was so good everything else failed to follow it, haha. Burr also absolutely fascinated me here, too, and that was so much fun to see play out in real time!

Hamilton will be coming to Melbourne next, and I’m not sure yet if I’ll be able to go there but I’d really like to! It’d be really fun to test out these expectations/conclusions of mine with a fresh viewing, as well as see any other new cast changes/interpretations…!

#Hamilton #Hamilton Sydney #musical #this is INCREDIBLY long lmfao #IDK if I should apologise or the opposite #I miiiight end up xposting to ao3 as well as a meta #if I can be bothered to read it through and edit it a bit maybe heh

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butlerbarb · 4 years

Text

Sleep (Mammon x Reader)

mammon, mammon, mammon!

The T.V flickered in the dimly lit room; your tired, bleary eyes barely able to keep track of what was happening on screen. It was well after midnight, thankfully you didn’t have classes to go tomorrow as it was the weekend. Stretching out your arms with a groan, you accidentally swatted the figure beside you in the face.

Mammon let out a whine, bringing his hand up to rub his face. He glared at you with half-lidded eyes, a yawn threatening to escape his lips. You sent him an apologetic look, reclining back into the bed and his chest.

“You should sleep.” You muttered quietly, a yawn of your own catching you off guard for a moment. You felt his chest rumble against your back as he laughed tiredly. He slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer as if you weren’t already practically on top of him.

“I’m a demon, y’know, I don’t need to sleep like you humans do.” He replied, voice just as quiet as yours was. You felt his breath tickle your ear due to his close proximity and squirmed in his hold. He laughed again, his arm tightening around you. He let out a content sigh, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“You sound tired though, dummy. No need to act so tough, it’s just you and I.” You smiled as he whined again, sounding like a complete child when told it was bedtime.

“Sleeping means that I have to leave you, and I don’t wanna leave.” He argued against the skin of your neck, sending a slightly shiver down your spine. Reaching a hand across to his head, you gently ran your fingers through his hair, listening to the cute, relaxed little sigh he let out. He shifted slightly in bed, moving to lay down from his previous sitting position. He pulled you down with him, holding you as close as humanly – or demonly? – possible.

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to, Mammon. Stay with me tonight.” You retorted, knowing that he was more than likely going to stay even if you hadn’t told him to. He already made himself comfortable, and knowing how stubborn Mammon was, even if you wanted him to leave, he wouldn’t.

“What about Lucifer?”

“If Lucifer makes it a problem, I’ll deal with it, don’t worry.”

Mammon mumbled something incoherent, his mouth peppering soft kisses along the side of your neck and near your collar bone. You laughed, giving his head another rub before shifting around to get comfortable. You pressed a small kiss to his forehead, watching as a sleepy smile broke out onto his face despite being half asleep. He tucked further into you, a serene look washing over his face as he fell asleep.

Grabbing the remote for the T.V and clicking it off, you fell asleep contently curled up with your demon.

You awoke the next morning to an awfully loud banging on your door, before it was practically flung open and off its hinges. You gazed up at the intruder through your sleepy haze, barely registering an angry Lucifer standing in your doorway.

“Did Mammon sneak out again last night? After I specifically told him not to?” Lucifer queried, his tone sounding extremely angry. You shot him a confused look, sitting up in bed slightly as you rubbed your eyes.

“What are you talking about, Lucy?” You responded to his question with a question, which only seemed to tick him off further. You swore you saw a lightening bolt flash behind him – weird demon things, you thought to yourself – as his fisted clenched in anger.

You sat up further as Lucifer stared you down angrily, as if you had something to do with anything Mammon did. You never knew why he always thought you were the one helping the younger demon sneak out, you had only helped him once!

As you sat up, you pulled the blanket down, revealing the white-haired demon curled up in your sheets. Lucifer’s eyes widened as he realized the situation, his anger quickly fading as he took in the form of his sleeping brother. You glanced between oldest demon and the one in your bed, smiling at how goofy Mammon looked with his bed head.

“Oh, I see. My apologies for waking you.” Lucifer spoke dismissively, immediately turning to leave, pulling the door shut harshly behind him. You rolled your eyes at how dramatic Lucifer could be sometimes, falling back into the bed. Mammon’s arm instantly found itself winding around your waist again.

“He’s so loud…” He grunted; eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. You only hummed in a response, pulling him closer to you, shutting your eyes and going to fall back asleep. Mammon continued to fidget around as he tried to fall back asleep as well, letting out a sigh as he got comfortable.

“Go to sleep, Mammon.” You instructed him, giving him a nudge as he sneakily tried to nibble on your neck.

“Told ya before, demons don’t need to sleep.” He chuckled before placing feverish, open-mouthed kisses against your neck.

You certainly weren’t going back to bed any time soon.

#obey me!#obey me mammon #obey me x reader #mammon x reader #womp womp #chp 20 made me upset and i stopped writing for a while >:(#xposted from ao3 #feel free to request!#ily <3

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themarinecathedral · 5 years

Text

(fic)

sooo last month i wrote a fic for haruka’s birthday. it’s all fluff and semi smutty, so watch your eyes ;)

you can read it here or on [ao3]

// morning touch

Ever so gently, Michiru outlined Haruka's lips with her finger, smiling when the later took a playful nibble. “It’s the 27th, Haruka.”

* Haruka's birthday fic.

AN: This story was totally unplanned. It was 2 AM and I should already be sleeping, but this idea hit me and wouldn't leave me alone. There is sex, but I didn't go with full blown smut or else I wouldn't have finished on time. This story is coincidentally also my first Harumichi fic (that I finished), so I'm kind of nervous, but I think I'm pretty happy with it and I hope you'd enjoy it too.

Happy birthday, Haruka! I love you!

It wasn’t the penthouse, although their apartment was high enough to ensure the waking bustling city of Tokyo didn’t reach their ears. Thick beige curtains pulled tight across the floor-to-ceiling window, effectively shutting them out from the outside world safe for a sliver of sunlight slipping through the small gap where the curtains met. All in all, Haruka would have been guaranteed almost another hour of sleep if a slight weight making itself comfortable on top of her didn’t startle her out of her dreams.

When it came, the whisper was melodious - as light as the summer breeze, as luminous as the siren’s song that dragged oblivious sailors to the floor of the ocean. As familiar as the back of her hand.

“Haruka,”

She stirred.

“Ha-ru-ka.” A callous hand slipped beneath her top, tracing love poems on her skin as it went along. A thumb brushed against her breast, not accidentally, teasingly.

Haruka slung an arm across the lithe figure on top of her, anchoring it around her hips. She was conscious enough to know that the hem of Michiru’s slip had followed an exciting trajectory up her thighs, and her hand shifted lower to rest upon one luscious cheek. She squeezed.

“Yes, you are definitely awake,” Michiru laughed.

Haruka chuckled, cracking one eye open. They were pressed so close her laughter reverberated to Michiru and back again. Haruka wondered if there would ever come a day when she would get used to this - waking up next to Michiru. It was something she would never take for granted.

Ever so gently, Michiru outlined Haruka's lips with her finger, smiling when the later took a playful nibble. “It’s the 27th, Haruka.”

“I know," Haruka smirked, eyes closing again as their foreheads tapped together. "It’s Thursday.”

While they never needed a reason to lose themselves in each other, an excuse was definitely needed to allow them some additional time to laze about in bed instead of frantically jumping into shower and eating breakfast before getting to school at least 20 minutes before homeroom started, as anything less than fifteen minutes was considered late per Michiru’s standard. If her birthday was what it took, then Haruka wasn’t about to complain. Not even on Michiru’s birthday would her beautiful girlfriend grant her the same concession. Haruka silently promised herself to try her luck again in two months, after having failed miserably in the previous years.

It started out slow: a soft touching of lips, a mingling of puffs of warm air until they could practically taste the other. A flick of familiar tongue, hands peeling off a tank top. Goosebumps dotted Haruka’s arms. A sharp intake of breath and a breathless plea spilled from swollen lips. Her nipples puckered up from both cold and desire and Michiru took care of it by drawing the left one into her mouth.

Haruka keened softly, yielding under her touch. Her slow spin towards the oblivion had begun. “You- uh, remembered-,”

“I had to get a head start. Your fans would be monopolizing you all day today.” Michiru slithered down her body, suckling and nipping at whatever spots hit her fancy, which were pretty much everywhere.

Truth be told, birthdays had since long lost its charm for Haruka. She really couldn't care less. This, however, Michiru nestled between her legs, doing sinful things only she could... she cared a lot about that. “Some would argue that you are monopolizing me, every day of the year.”

“Is that a complaint?” Michiru’s lips deliciously grazed the sensitive skin beneath her navel. One tug and boyshort panties joined the clattered clothing on the floor.

“Never,” her muscles clenched when short nails raked down her toned abs. There was a small pinch that was followed by a bite. “I love being yours.” Fact.

Haruka felt more than saw Michiru’s grin, but all lucid thoughts immediately abandoned her when Michiru lazily massaged a finger over her throbbing clit.

“M-Michi-!“

The motion slowed until it ceased completely and Haruka almost screamed in frustration. Her leg gave an involuntary jerk. The violinist planted a kiss on the small patch of skin above the one place Haruka needed her the most. When Michiru spoke, her voice was barely restrained. Haruka was so wet already.

(For her. Because of her.)

“I know.”

Michiru finally took pity on her and Haruka did scream, then. Michiru languidly swiped at the length of her slit, once, twice, and stopped at the pearl between slippery nether lips. Her tongue gave a hard rub before circling the hard nubbin with the tip. She was swift one second, agonizingly slow the next. Her lips and tongue and teeth were collaborating in an orchestra that made Haruka’s body sing. She would let Michiru take her into the deepest ocean, drowning her, making her one with the sea until Haruka didn’t know where she ended and Michiru began.

Michiru moaned, momentarily leaving the clitoris to dip inside and taste Haruka’s sweetness right from the core. She spelled her name inside the moist canal, claiming Haruka in the most intimate way.

It wasn’t long before the finale hit Haruka like a tidal wave. Waves and waves of white hot pleasures surged through every fiber of her being, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. The sheets rippled under her writhing body and still, Michiru didn’t stop. She drank her in, set her body ablaze anew, sent her to another, smaller spiraling encore of orgasm.

When it became too much, Haruka weakly tugged at the green hair sprawling across her thigh.

Michiru crawled back up, propping her head on her hand while the other caressing Haruka’s trembling body, soothing, calming, bringing her back to the shore. After what seemed like forever, the blood stopped rushing to her ears, the ringing slowly replaced by the static hum of the air conditioner and her labored, ragged breathing. It still felt as if she was holding on to a buoy, swaying back and forth following an unsteady current, but she could finally move her toes. Small victory. Haruka opened her eyes and licked at her chapped lips.

Michiru was silently watching her through lidded eyes, the corners of her lips curved up into a beautiful smile. Her normally neatly combed hair was a wild cumulus curtain around her heart-shaped face. Her eyes, subtly glazed from arousal, so blue, so warm, so full of the things she had said and yet to say, but it didn't matter because Haruka knew. She just did.

The distance was too much to bear so Haruka threaded her fingers around the aqua curls at Michiru’s nape and pulled her in, her mouth already half opened to welcome Michiru’s tongue. Michiru answered in kind, her tongue rustling with hers until-

“Tsk, Michiru...,” Haruka grunted and broke the kiss, feeling the twinge and sting Michiru’s hand against her body emphasized.

They both studied the scattering of cherry blossom markings on her chest and torso (Haruka also noted the glee in Michiru’s eyes that she didn't bother to hide). One had been strategically placed above her left breast: an orchid tattoo pulsing in time with her heartbeats.

“Your uniform would cover them.” Michiru pointed out coyly.

Haruka scoffed, her eyes narrowed, and reached for the hand that was stroking her collarbone. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes. “They would, but you knew I had PE today.”

“Oh, did I?” Michiru had the audacity to look sheepish, blue eyes widening as if the small piece of information had just clicked into place. “My bad.”

Haruka growled and tackled her down, hands closing around her wrists as she straddled her hips. She was too happy and too absorbed in the moment to care about what kind of gossip would generate when her classmates saw her in the locker room. Obviously, it wasn’t on the top of her girlfriend’s worries too.

Michiru’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “Are you going to punish me, Tenoh senpai?”

Haruka shut her up with a deep kiss.

Later, much, much later when they only had ten minutes to get up and make themselves as presentable as possible (something that Michiru seemed to have flawlessly mastered- a talent which infuriated Haruka to no end) and Michiru’s body was as purple and crimson and sore as Haruka’s, she brought the blonde into her arms. Their legs tangled, her thigh inadvertently finding its way against Haruka’s damp mound and it was all she could do from having her way with her again.

“Do we have time for a shower?”

Haruka hummed, licking Michiru’s glistening neck before pecking it gently. “We do, if we take one together.”

“Are you going to behave?”

“If you are.”

Michiru buried her nose in tousled blonde hair. “Happy birthday, love.”

Another peck. “I love you, too."

#i posted on ao3 back then so you might have read it already #but im xposting and i alsoedited things a bit #harumichi #haruka x michiru #haruka tenoh #i think my blog font may be too small #but i cant edit the theme yet since im too lazy to tweak the whole http - https thing #so sorry #fanfic

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chronicbatfictioner · 7 years

Text

I can do this

"I can do this."

"Famous last words." Jason quipped.

"No, really. It's not-- it's not rocket science. I can do this." Tim insisted, eyes wide and confident.

Pretending, Jason knew. Because he knew Tim better than he knew himself.

If he has an hour, Jason would probably opted to argue Tim out of his wits. But he didn't have an hour. He has approximately seven minutes. And some-loose-change seconds. And the little bird insisting that he could disable the bomb.

"Dick is gonna hate me for this..." Jason muttered under his breath before placing a nerve strike on the base of Tim's neck. Tim gasped, and went limp within seconds. Jason decided against taking him outside - no time. "If we're going, we're going together, Timmers." he said, sighing as he got to work to disable the bomb.

Sure, Tim - Red Robin - could do it - probably. But even as he opened the timer, Jason noticed that it was laced with numerous fake connective wires that lead to nowhere, and a dead man's switch. If the bomb wouldn't start a chain reaction that would destroy about twenty blocks of the Narrows, Jason would probably opt to leave the damn thing. It would be easier to skip the fact that they were going to die, anyway, and just cut off the dead-man's switch and get it done and over with. He silently cursed his own compassion against all mankind, and the children and parents and elderly living in said twenty blocks.

Three minutes and counting down. Jason turned and looked at Tim, still unconscious. He stroked the pale cheeks and black, bushy hair not covered by the mask or gorget. "Sorry if I don't get us to live, Timmers. I'm trying. But just in case, sorry." he said, and returned to focus on the convoluted mess of cables.

And then he saw it. The pattern. The almost ridiculous pattern that followed the cables, and dead-man's switch. Considering the maker of the bomb, he should not be surprised. He scowled and cut off the other cable, because crazy is as crazy goes, he though. And watched as the timer sped up.

He sighed dejectedly and wrapped himself around Tim. Maybe, just maybe, his body would be enough to prevent the blast from killing Tim. Maybe.

Tim squirmed beneath him. He could hear the gasp as Tim's eyes landed on the counter, quickly approaching zero.

And then nothing.

A few heartbeats later, "We run, now?" Tim squeaked, a little breathless - maybe it's just from being pinned under Jason.

"Yes, birdie, we run now." Jason agreed, getting up and dragging Tim along, through one of the windows.

"I could do it." Tim huffed as they made it to the next rooftop. GCPD bomb squad littering the area below them as they looked down.

"We'd be pancakes if I didn't knock you out." Jason replied grimly, replaying the footage of the dismantling from his helmet and show it to Tim. "Don't bother remembering the structure, though. He's not gonna do this structure twice." he warned.

"How did you know?" Tim wanted to know.

"Illogical madness or the logical insanity?"

Tim gave him a withering glare, obvious even under the mask, "you would know."

Jason chuckled humorlessly. Another person but Tim saying it would have received an uppercut in the jaw. But Jason merely said, "I would, wouldn't I. It’s not like I haven’t tried." And the last time he’d tried to dismantle a bomb like that one, it had ended up with his death.

He received a tug on the jacket, and an arm circling his middle - under the jacket. "I'm glad." Tim said as Jason wrapped his own arm around Tim's shoulders. “Not that you’d had the experience. But that you’re here now.”

"Next time, squirt, leave the blowy-thingy to me, yeah?"

"You know I won't." Tim scoffed. “Second-coming doesn’t do seconds, Red.”

"At least until you can un-logic yourself and get as crazy as I am. And that sentence actually hurt my brain."

"That-- well, okay." Tim was distracted. "They found him, by the way. Seemed that BG's birds have a little vendetta against the clown, too. He was dumped barely clinging to life and I’m sure half of Gotham is praying for him to not cling to life."

"'Seemed'?" Jason grinned for real this time.

"Metaphorically speaking. And maybe not the part about the prayer. But the one doing the bludgeoning wasn't BG." Tim shrugged. "Seemed that the greenery has... some vendetta of her own."

"The greenery," Jason paused. It was weird to see Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy - working side-by-side with Batgirl's Birds of Prey.

But then again, it's nothing stranger than seeing Red Robin and Red Hood on the rooftops with arms around each other.

If anyone could actually see them, that is.

They landed softly at the back of the alley, a half-dozen blocks away, where their bikes were hidden. Tim walked ahead, Jason's hand on the small of his back. Instinctively, just. Guiding but not guiding. When Tim suddenly stopped and turned toward Jason. "You'll stop me, right?"

It took a few moments for Jason's brain to catch up. "Oh," he said when it finally clicked. "Yes, I will. Besides, shouldn't you be the one worrying over me going over the fence to cuckoo's nest?"

Tim's punch on his arm was worth the amused smile on Tim's lips.

#jaytim #jason todd #tim drake #Red Hood #Red Robin #Batfam #fanfic #oneshot #drabbles #xposted to AO3

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