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anulithots · 2 months

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So I found this on bird app :

"i only like ge/go when it’s doomed and they have no longterm future

same with go/ge. they’re about the same to me but i think gojo bottomed more and was a total pillow princess about it in their teens. as adults they probably switched equally. i can see gojo developing his experience more with topping as an adult

either way they’re better as exes. gojo deserves more from a partner than someone who would leave him to start a cult "

Can I ask your thoughts, please?

………… I don't ship them sexually. Because I'm not comfortable with it.

(I have aroace spectrum satosugu headcannons I'm quite fond of. So basically I ship them queer platonically and semi-romantically and flip flop between the two.)

Sorry about that!

But in terms of are they better off being okay with being apart, or if they should stay together regardless…

Complex answer. Depends on the context really.

They loved each other a lot. And I disagree with 'Gojo deserves a better partner than someone who left him to start a cult'. Like… he does but also… that's not the entirety of the situation?

If Geto loved Gojo, why didn't he try to recruit him? by @ellionwrites

How much Geto canonically loved Gojo by @ellionwrites

These two analysis's explain it very well. Also there's a fanfic called Carry me home that is just 100/10. Character analysis interwoven and it perfectly explains this part of Geto's motivations.

Geto COULD NOT go on for much longer without coming to a breaking point. His cursed teqnique requires him to go through painful experiences over and over and over again. The very coping mechanism he prided himself on ('I do this to protect non-sorcerers') has fallen to pieces and Gojo isn't there (for his own reasons). He's grappling with his entire sense of self and it's been repeating in his head for A YEAR.

And Geto did not want to confront Gojo during the whole 'kfc breakup scene'. (Again, analysis above explains it really well.)

Shoko called him there. For good reason. I don't think either Shoko or Gojo had a good idea of just how bad it was getting because Geto (a) didn't tell anyone (b) Gojo was doing 'okay' (he wasn't) and (c) Geto's strong in morals and in resolve. He'll be okay.

(Gojo especially believes this. Strong sorcerers stay safe. Especially Geto. I have… a lot of posts talking about how Gojo depends on Geto to be around him when interacting and just… existing in general.

Gojo gets so fixated on being stronger so he wouldn't make the same mistakes like with Riko. He isolates himself to do so. ~~~ Backstory ~~ explains this.

The Gojo clan isolated Gojo, told him he's the strongest, and gave him rules and responsibilities for that - along with safety and confidence. So - in Gojo's mind - the only way to get stronger is to double down on these things. More responsibility. More isolation. He'll be able to take care of things once he gets stronger. )

LONG STORY SHORT -

Geto's ideal was fixing the world - partially for Gojo as the strongest, partially for himself because he was struggling and didn't have any foothold.

And… listen… sometimes you have to take priority over your partner. I don't think the way Geto went about it was right, by any means, but… at least he did something, he had to.

At the end of the day, the system is to blame. It's the system that drove them both to this and it's the system that let it perpetuate.

But let's say they met right before JJK0-ish and decided to forget the world for a little while and escape from it all together.

It would be… strained to say the least.

Because they are canonically soulmates. A pair. Do not separate. But they have and it's been going on for ten years despite the fact that they both very much still love each other.

Gojo just couldn't leave the society that gave him meaning (other reasons too), Geto couldn't leave the thing that gave him meaning.

Does that indicate that they do not love each other/shouldn't be together because they both value their respective ideologies? No.

(We're going to ignore Geto's whole 'kill the monkeys' thing for a second and pretend like it's just an opposing idealogology for the sake of the argument <3)

The circumstances, their respective coping mechanisms, and the system, very much the system, makes it so they went their separate ways. Just because their ideals got caught up in this thing and they went for their own paths does not mean they don't love each other and wouldn't jump at the chance to have a 'perfect world' with the other in it.

(the sunset scene, Geto's death scene… need I say more?)

If the society decided that "… maybbeee we shouldn't put all this traumatic pressure on children and say that the only answer is isolation and acceptance and instead give them the help and support they need" then Geto and Gojo would've stayed together.

But it wouldn't have been JJK then, would it? Without the friendship that haunts the narrative?

Sorry if I'm rambling, what I'm trying to say is - it's complicated. The story itself drove them apart and canonically they never got back together while mourning their separation the entire time.

And Gojo never moved on, never let go. If you wanted to - and this is something I played around with in my head - and if JJK miraculously got rewritten as a slice-of-life post hidden inventory, then part of GOjo's arc could be about letting go of Geto, as painful as that may be.

But honestly? Comfort people are hard to find. Geto and Gojo were specifically created to be a pair. Gojo was so detatched from the world that Geto tethered him to it. After Geto left, Gojo went on to be a teacher and do what the Suguru he remembers would've wanted him to do, and he 'doesn't feel lonely anymore'…

Gojo loves his students dearly, but he can't ask his students to understand him. And more than anything, Gojo wants to be understood and loved for it. The only one who fit that criteria was Geto.

(Gojo's whole sentiment about 'not as a human, but as a living creature' is Gojo saying that he (a) didn't feel human without Geto there (b) didn't let himself feel human and instead made himself a tool, gave himself the role of the strongest.

Because otherwise Riko happens all over again.

ANNNDDD I'm going off on a ramble.

Last point!

Narratively, should Gojo and Geto be a tradegy, where they never get back together? (AKA, as it is in cannon)

Yes. That is a huge part of their characters, along with being a huge draw to JJK in general. There's something about the separation exemplifying how much SatoSugu loved each other that gives it nuance and the possibility for lots of fix it fics.

So I can understand why the bird poster thought that SatoSugu works a lot as a tragedy, it does. But if SatoSugu had a well-written redemption arc, that would also be extremely compelling I think.

But alas, this is JJK we're talking about.

Thank you for the ask! This was fun to ramble about at 2am.

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omgahgase · 7 months

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always you - dinluke

cross posted on ao3 already, can be found here. i'm still really tired and still really emotional about finishing a fic after everythings that happened, so go easy on me and give me head pats bc, honestly? i kinda deserve it.

fic is under the cut!

Din has a scar. He has a lot, actually, littered across the length of his body in blaster bullet shapes and knife-sharp lines. Some of them even have razor-teeth patterns that Luke immediately latches onto with the same hungry intensity, salivating for a story only Din can tell.

This scar, however, is small. It’s right on the bridge of his nose, laid jagged across haphazardly repaired skin in a tone just a shade too light. It’s a few scants below his eyes, lined up perfectly to his crows' feet, crooked in that intimate way Luke knows resulted in a broken nose. Luke knows this—he knows this better than he knows his own scars because Din’s scar is barely noticeable and it’s sorta adorable and because it’s Din’s.

Luke can retain light years' worth of knowledge on Din. Because, when allowed to learn everything there is to know about a person in all their entirety, on someone he loves and who loves him back just as hard, it’s a pretty easy decision to make.

Luke knows Din has a nose scar because he kisses it every morning when they wake up tangled in each other’s arms and tied to the hips by sheets. Luke brushes a feather-light thumb over the slightly raised skin any time he cups Din’s face and is reminded what it means to hold his world in the palm of his hands, a sweet caress followed by an even sweeter, longer kiss. And Luke stares at it. He looks and stares and admires how such a small, almost invisible piece of someone’s past could capture his attention for unimaginable amounts of time. How Luke—prompted with the almost unfairly handsome face that is his husband, his Earth-rich brown eyes and bed-tousled hair, his smile that makes Luke feel like a star erupted somewhere out there in the universe—could whisk past all the features that make him jelly-legged and punch-happy giddy in favor of staring doe-eyed at a tiny, barely there, blemish of skin.

Over the years, Luke has come up with a few conclusions.

The first one is this: because even if Din doesn’t wear his helmet at home anymore, now well past the few years of dating and blindfolds and eyes screwed shut so tight Luke used to give himself vision blobs of varying degrees, each time Luke looks up and sees Din’s nose scar first, then the rest of his face second, he feels as if he’s taken back to Gideon’s cruiser, laying eyes on the Mandalorian for the first time all over again and zeroing in on that rough, sinewy, line of skin. Even from well over ten feet away, Luke could see it, he stared at it for a moment too long for he’s always one to notice the small things of a person first before realizing the tiny green sentient in the man’s arms was the spitting image of one of his late masters. Thinking back on it, Luke probably should’ve opened his horizons on that one instead of gawking at the gorgeous, crying man saying goodbye to his son.

Luke’s second conclusion is less winded and lacking waxed poetry, providing a more sensible idea as to why he’s constantly transfixed to Din’s scar: it’s a part of Din and Grogu. It’s a remembrance of a time when they both decided that they’d do anything for the other, risking their lives for a chance to save one they love more so than their own.

And because of that, Luke loves them, so he loves Din’s nose scar just as much.

“You know,” Din begins, pulling Luke out of his mindless ramblings and back to Yavin where he started before Din unlocked a whirlwind of words, “you could also just say, ‘It’s cool.’ Saves you more energy.”

Luke nuzzles into Din’s hair, buries his nose into the familiar scent of beskar and berry shampoo, and scratches at his scalp with blunt nails. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? I can’t string lines of devoted poetry into a lame reason like that.”

“You could try.”

“It would suck.”

“I would still read it.”

Luke gives a disbelieving snort, only to have Din raise his head from Luke’s chest and look him dead in the eye. Luke has the urge to squirm away because it’s been nearly eleven years of marriage and fifteen of being together and he still can’t look at Din without blushing like a schoolboy with a playground crush. So he does the most reasonable thing that pops into his head.

He looks at Din’s scar like a marvel and cherishes it like a treasure. Which, to Luke, it is.

“I would,” Din repeats.

“Would what?” Luke asks, too busy tracing the outline of pale skin across a regal nose for the umpteenth time.

“Read your sucky poetry.”

Luke smiles, hugs Din a little harder, and tightens his thighs on either side of Din’s strong middle. His lips are on Din’s hairline when he says, “So you think my poetry is sucky.”

“Only because you said you’d write some.”

Luke hums and skims his lips over Din’s forehead. “Thank you.”

Din shifts, stretches his neck until he captures Luke's mouth with his own, and kisses him until Luke’s upper lip is rubbed raw by his mustache, stinging with that pleasant after-burn he only ever wants to feel from his husband.

“I also think it’s cool,” Luke adds when Din parts from his lips with one last fleeting kiss and returns to resting his head on Luke’s chest, ear pressed firmly above his heart. “I think all of your scars are cool.”

“But you’re obsessed with this one.”

“For obvious reasons.”

Din chuckles, the deep rumble reverberating so far behind Luke’s ribs he can feel the sound pulsate in every active artery and blood cell in his veins.

“I can list them for you again if you’d like.”

Din doesn’t move, which makes Luke assume he’s contemplating his response, then he pulls the blanket that’s fallen loose around his bare waist up to his shoulders and wraps his arms back around Luke like they never left. His answer, despite being devoid of a verbal reply, is clear enough for Luke. Luke kisses the top of Din’s head again because he can, reverts to his earlier musings of running his fingers through Din’s hair, and melts into the couch once again, content to have this moment alone with his husband.

Training the next generation of Jedi can be exhausting, especially considering how Ben and Grogu still argue over petty squabbles at their grown ages of 70 and 21. And also because Rey and Finn are in their “rebellious years,” which just means they’d rather listen to Grogu and totally ignore Luke.

Which is fine, really. Luke is more than happy for his oldest to take his sister and her best friend to the other side of the planet for a cycle or two, and get some good training that doesn’t involve frog hunting or Force throwing Ben clear across a field. That local boy, Poe, the one that’s deathly attached himself to Rey and Finn, a problem Luke will most likely have to observe under a better lens’, will probably follow them, so that leaves Luke child-free until they and the rest of the padawans return from their monthly visitation with their families.

Luke is grateful for this break. He’s not as young as he used to be anymore, so any moment he can spare away from the kids is spent either sleeping or here, with Din. Wrapped up in each other’s arms on the couch, watching a stupidly cheesy Holomark movie about true love and a small town’s spirit to save the last remnants of what once was. Happy. Pleased to be able to have this. All of it, with Din.

As Luke rakes his fingers through Din’s hair, scratches at the salt and pepper curls resting just above his nape, and genuinely tries to enjoy the hilariously cringy film Din chose, mind you, he feels fingers slide down his side and dip under the hem of his shirt. Din’s hand doesn’t go below his hip, if anything, Din doesn’t seem aware of his actions until Luke starts giggling under his breath due to nimble fingers mapping out the branches of scars he knows are there. Luke makes it to the overly dramatic betrayal of the male lead and his plans to buy the last known family bakery in town before he has to squirm a little, trying to put distance between himself and Din’s curious fingers.

Din doesn’t like that, it seems, because Luke feels the downward pull of his frown. “Stop moving so much.”

“Stop tickling me.”

“Stop trying to get away.”

Luke barks out a laugh with a throw of his head, neck going long and feet kicking up in that way he thinks is weird but Din thinks is adorable.

“I like feeling them,” Din muses.

“Oh, yeah?” Luke retorts, wiggling when Din gets to a particularly sensitive spot near his ribs, below his pectoral, and down again to his navel. “What’s there to like about them?”

“A lot.”

“Care to share a few examples?”

“They’re pretty, for one.” Din punctuates his spoken fact with a quick kiss to Luke’s collarbone, right atop the most visible lines of lightning striking across the skin above his nightshirt.

Luke smiles, all goofy and giddy, feeling butterflies erupt in the center of his stomach. “You think all of me is pretty.”

Din looks up at him with dark, soulful eyes, lips still pressed to Luke’s chest when he says, “Of course I do.” He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, with a sureness that makes Luke believe him. “And because they’re yours. Because they prove that you’re still here.”

Luke arches just the slightest bit when Din’s fingers stake over to the small of his back, up up up until they reach his middle, and wide palms splay over thousands of branches that Din’s spent years memorizing, storing even the smallest offshoot into the deepest files of his brain.

“With you,” Luke says, breathy, almost in a whisper.

“With me,” Din confirms, moving until their noses slot together and their foreheads touch. “Always with me.”

Luke feels fingers dance across his back, feels the breadth of Din stretch himself across Luke so he can reach every scar he can and backtrack until he’s had his fill. Over shoulders and arms, the soft spots of elbows and the dip of Luke’s neck, the lean cut of his abdomen and the soft squish of his chest. Din goes until his hands have outlined and traced and mapped, until he’s touched every flaw of skin on Luke’s upper body like it’s his first time feeling them all over again.

Luke smiles to himself at this wonder, nuzzles closer so he can feel the phantom touch of Din’s scar brush over Luke’s nose.

“One more example?”

Din chuckles, and no matter how many times Luke’s heard it, it still sends his heart into a tizzy.

“Fishing for compliments, cyar’ika?”

Luke takes a fistful of Din’s hair and tugs, guiding him above his mouth. “Always, my love.”

Din shudders, which doesn’t go unnoticed, and drops a quick kiss on his lips before saying, “I love you.”

Luke kisses him back easily, naturally, like it’s the easiest task in the galaxy. Which, for them, it is.

“I love you too, Din.”

“No, cyar’ika,” he says, “I love your scars—all of them. Because they’re a part of you. So I love them. And you.” He kisses Luke again, says ‘always you’ between every pass of lips and tug of his hair.

When they separate, Luke feels dazed and kiss-drunk, but that’s normal for them, as normal as breathing. It’s simple science. The grass on Yavin is green. The sky above is blue. When Din kisses him, Luke feels as his entire world stops on its axis.

“You’re taking a page out of my award-winning poetry book, buddy. That’s plagiarism, a crime punishable by folding laundry for three days.” Luke nips Din’s lips, then flicks his tongue over the bite, soothes the skin before it gets redder than it already is.

Din growls and the sound zips through Luke like a livewire. “Just three days?”

“Keep stealing my flow and I’ll make it a week. It’s very rude to steal another man’s hard work—”

Din kisses him again as a sort of apology, or to make him shut up, but Luke accepts it nonetheless. He accepts all of it.

They stay like that until their lips forget how to move and the heat trapped between the two of them, the warm couch, and a fuzzy blanket is too much to bear. In one swift motion, Din tosses the blanket somewhere over his shoulder and drags Luke until they’re sitting upright with Luke in his husband’s lap and Din with a handful of Luke’s ass. Din claims it’s easier to talk to him like this. Luke thinks Din just can’t keep his hands to himself. Which he can’t. Fact-tested and proven.

Luke makes the best of it, however, by smoothing his palms up Din’s chest, over his shoulders to cup his face and place one last soft peck to the marred skin of his nose. Din leans into the touch like he does every time they find themselves like this, rumbling something deep in his chest that Luke always thinks is a purr. Or some sort of happy sound Din makes when he’s content and placid.

“I really do love your scar,” Luke says eventually. “It’s cool.”

Din scrunches in a way that reminds Luke of Grogu, big brown eyes and all. “Out of all the ones you could’ve chosen, why choose that one?”

Luke thinks for a moment, then, “That’s like asking why you chose me. Out of all the beings in the galaxy, why’d you choose me?”

“I didn’t choose you,” Din reasons easily, moving his hands so he can circle Luke’s hips, holding him there as if he thinks continuing the conversation might make him miraculously disappear. Like some sort of broken No Backsies promise. “I didn’t have a choice in who my heart chose to love. But if I did…”

Luke looks down at him, eyes swimming with something that makes Din’s own sparkle and shine brighter than a kyber crystal. “Always me?” Luke asks.

Din nods, holds him steady, holds him fast. “Always you.”

And Luke knows this. He knows a lot about Din. He knows about the small, faint scar across the bridge of his nose. He knows what Din’s lips feel like against his, soft and perfect and made for Luke to kiss as if he’s dying and Din’s his last lifeforce.

And Luke knows it’s Din. Always Din.

#dinluke #din djarin #luke skywalker #the mandalorian #star wars #omgahgase writes #i'm proud of this even if it's not my best writing but more so that i sat down for over 3 hours and wrote #that hasn't happened in a long time #so excuse me for crying on here and ao3 but i'm SOBBING

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nikialexx · 2 years

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all of your WIPs sound amazing and I am here to request details on the dark academia/fwb and/or the young royals/RWRB fic are you kiddinggg both sound genius <3

(obligatory apology for how long its taken me to get around to this <333)

I’ve already answered the young royals/rwrb one here, so I’ll tell you about the dark academia/fwb fic!!

I'm still working out the details of this one, specifically that pesky little detail called a 'plot', but I think I can share a few of the general ideas:

It's a bit canon-divergence in that Remus is not turned into a werewolf at five, he (and Lily) are sorted into Slytherin, the two of them are best friends with Snape, and Remus and Sirius have been rivals for about the entire time that they’ve known each other.

(They’ve also been sleeping together for the better part of a year, but no one else needs to know about that, especially since they will swear to anyone that asks, and themselves, that they actually hate each other. The sex is just for practical reasons, you see ;))

It does, however, make things complicated when Remus is attacked by a werewolf the summer between sixth and seventh year-- and Sirius, of course, finds out about it.

The fic is going to follow them throughout the entirety of their final year at hogwarts and deal with fun things like self discovery in the wake of having your entire world turned upside down, the thin line between love and hate and obsession, the mortifying ordeal of being known best by the person you hate most in the world, the inherent eroticism of having an academic rival, and my favorite trope ever: 'only i'm allowed to hurt you and i'll kill anyone else who even tries <3'

here's a snippet!!

"Nox," Sirius murmured, and the light at the end of his wand went out.

The hallway was cloaked in darkness again, the two of them more than well-hidden from anyone that might pass them by, but Remus could feel that Sirius was still unsettled. The taut way he held himself hadn't let up even after Severus' departure, as if the mere fact that he was in such close proximity to the Slytherin Common Room in any capacity caused him tremendous pain.

Remus almost asked him if he wanted to move, just to spare Sirius some of that obvious torment, but he held himself back. Meeting up in empty classrooms and sneaking into each other's dormitories was okay, but Remus would not ask Sirius Black to accompany him on a midnight stroll across the castle grounds. That seemed a step too far- and likely to get him laughed at, if he knew Sirius at all.

"You really should make better friends, Lupin," Sirius said, tilting his head back against the wall with the infuriatingly casual air of someone who was having their time reluctantly encroached upon, instead of the other way around.

Remus wondered if it was possible to hate someone so much it felt like your lungs were on fire whenever you were near them.

"I could say the same to you,” he said, instead of any of the numerous curses that had pushed themselves temptingly to the forefront of his mind. It was an honestly miraculous display of restraint, in his opinion.

Sirius laughed, “Is this about James again?"

"You don't complain about my friends,” Remus said, “And I won't complain about yours."

"Your friends deserve the complaints," Sirius said. Purposely, he glanced in the direction Severus had just walked off to, "Ask me who I saw lurking around the restricted section of the library earlier."

Remus forced himself not to react- at least not in any way that could be perceived by Sirius. He couldn't really help the way his insides seemed to turn to molten lead at Sirius' words.

So he'd been right then.

The fact that Severus had been making use of his time by visiting the restricted section was not surprising. But that he had lied about it?

Remus needed to get back to the dorm.

Sirius, however, was still looking at him, using those maddening few inches of height he had on Remus to stare Remus down like he was both the most fascinating subject in the world and also the most uninspiring.

Remus held his ground, and stared back.

"What were you doing there?" he countered, "I’m starting to get concerned, Black. Do you just make a habit of spying on people?”

Sirius smiled. It was entirely without humor. "Only the suspicious ones."

"Is that what I am?"

"Well not anymore,” he pointed out, waving a hand dismissively, “I already know all of your secrets. Now I have all the time in the world to dedicate to your awful friends.”

Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius had seemingly been as helpful as he intended to be for the night, and despite Remus' newfound confirmation that Severus was, in fact, closer to uncovering the truth about him, it didn't exactly help him in any way to stand about discussing that with Sirius, of all people.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes and turned to walk away, "Goodnight, Sirius."

Sirius reached out and grabbed his arm before he’d even fully stepped out of their shared space, firmly yanking him back in, "Wait."

"Sirius," Remus warned, even as the other boy crowded him back against the wall and Remus made no real effort to escape, "I have to go. Severus will-"

"Don't," Sirius groaned, "Don't say his name. Nothing kills the mood faster."

"Severus will come looking for me," Remus said, enunciating the word just to see Sirius grimace again.

Sirius, the infuriating arse, didn't give him the satisfaction.

"So let him," he said instead, "He can watch. I'm sure he could use the lessons, Merlin knows he won't be getting them anywhere else. It will be my act of community service this week, helping out the less fortunate."

"Salazar, you're insufferable."

“Me?” Sirius glared at him. "Have you forgotten about your little werewolf situation?"

"Fucking hell, Sirius,” Remus snapped, shoving him back, “Can you keep your voice down?"

"Are you hearing me at all? Snape is starting to suspect you.”

"I can take care of myself-"

"You share a room with him," Sirius reminded him, as if Remus could have forgotten, "All I'm asking is that you be more careful around him, since I don’t presume you’ll agree to my original plan of throwing him into the Black Lake."

"I don't understand why you even care so much."

Sirius sighed, long and low, as if Remus' general presence took out an extraneous toll on his sanity.

"Your other friends might be insufferable gits who'd turn on you in less than five seconds, Lupin," Sirius said, with the exaggerated patience of someone speaking to a five year old, "But Gryffindor's have more honor than that. I look out for my friends."

"We're not friends," Remus felt it necessary to remind him, and ignored the voice at the back of his head that insisted on asking stupid questions like, well, what are we then? "We fuck each other, and when we're not fucking each other you're going out of your way to annoy me."

"Or protect you, as the actual evidence suggests.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Remus said. He pushed Sirius away from him again, and took the split second of opportunity it provided to slip himself out of the corner and into the hallway. “Are we done here?”

Sirius watched him, his lips pressed thinly together, something unreadable in his expression.

Finally, he nodded. Remus held his gaze for another second before turning away.

"Lupin?" Sirius called.

Remus, hating himself more and more, turned.

Sirius raised a brow. Whatever had been clouding his gaze just a few seconds ago was gone already, replaced by his usual bored arrogance.

He smiled, "Our usual time tomorrow?"

#u know those fics where ur like 'i have an aesthetic and a vibe and a few characters i really love. must i also have a plot?'#that's what this is #i wanted to write about wolfstar being murder boyfriends #and this entire thing stemmed from that #my writing

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septembersghost · 2 years

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I don't know how to properly articulate this, but some opinions I'm reading (not on Tumblr) makes me think some people's ideas of 'justice' aren't as noble as they would like to think. "Jimmy deserves the worst treatment in jail and to never see the light of day again, Kim wasn't punished enough..." They're facing the consequences of their actions, what else do these people want? Literal torture by a group of neo-nazis (hi Jesse)??

anon we are on the exact same page (and i've seen a little bit of it on here, but not to the extent that i've seen it in comments on tvline, avclub, twitter...i haven't dared to look at the sub). it's why i've pushed back against a life prison sentence in any way equating to inner peace, and that it isn't the jail time that gives him that, it's his own honesty and his willingness to be brave and own his actions, to make a sacrifice out of love, and that responsibility and atonement is not the same as harsh punishment and suffering. it's a reductive, kind of shockingly conservative viewpoint and seems to be all too common.

there are reactions that are not only off-base (or intentionally obtuse? i don't even know. every time i have to read a "this proved jimmy was always saul and just a scumbag," "he was a sociopath incapable of remorse or change," "he didn't do this for kim and they didn't ultimately love each other," "she thought he was betraying her and went to see him one last time in anger," "she deserved losing everything/should've been locked up/should've died" - all takes i've seen, among others - i lose faith not only in media literacy but in humanity lol), but seem to reveal this very cruel perspective and a hunger for vengeance that, to my mind, the show itself condemns as harmful and futile. those types of responses are not noble, they're vindictive and punitive. they're not thinking about honoring justice or empathetic humanity, they're wanting to delight in harm. it's like the very worst form of schadenfreude and exposes something ugly. i personally wouldn't want to know someone who's so pro-prison they hope he's getting hurt on a regular basis, that's...unconscionable to me. i can't understand someone who would look at kim self-destructing and diminishing the entirety of her personhood for years and decide she wasn't harmed enough. people were wishing torture and enslavement on kim, it was very common on the sub during the hiatus. the barbarism of that. idk. i've also seen both she and jesse referred to as "snitches" and that they deserved worse treatment for that alone, so...way to miss the purpose of both stories entirely. :(

i mentioned this already, but it seems like some people are way too content to moralize in the bleakest of terms to elevate their own senses of ego, rather than explore connections to and compassion for the characters despite their flaws and mistakes, it's easier to reduce them to parts and judge them. by doing this, they thus separate themselves from questioning their own edges and darknesses - the more someone depersonalizes something, the more they can convince themselves of their own superior morality and disengage from the deeper philosophical questions a story is asking and the full scope of what a character is embodying. there's a heartlessness to that which i fundamentally can't relate to, but of course i love these characters and wish wholeness and healing on them, not more pain. the world is not healed by suffering. people are not bettered by being hurt and tormented over and over again. both of the shows, while tragedies, imho criticized the idea that answering harm with even more harm ever solves or mends anything.

i just can't imagine watching these shows and thinking that the ways in which they do ultimately pay for their actions somehow isn't harsh enough. they all lose everything, and our three sole survivors are forever changed. jesse is freed from an actual hell. kim is released from the prison of her own making that was crushing her ability to affect change or remedy herself. jimmy finally finds a true and honest sense of the identity he's struggled with for so long, but has to be behind bars. it doesn't mean they aren't paying for those mistakes, that they aren't doing penance, they will be for the rest of their lives in one way or another (jimmy literally, and jesse and kim after many losses will always carry grief/trauma as they eke out their new lives). they will never be as they were. i believe, at that point, they've earned a bit of grace from the audience, and a flicker of light in their journeys.

#this got a bit away from me but i find it to be very upsetting and could discuss it at even more length #anonymous #letterbox #better call saul #bcs spoilers

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jackoshadows · 2 years

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Vince Gilligan wants to write a good guy

I rewatched the entirety of “Breaking Bad” recently. My love for Walter White has dissipated. And my love for Skyler White has only grown.

The further away I get from “Breaking Bad,” the less sympathy I have for Walter. He got thrown a lifeline early on. And, if he had been a better human being, he would’ve swallowed his pride and taken the opportunity to treat his cancer with the money his former friends offered him. He goes out on his own terms, but he leaves a trail of destruction behind him. I focus on that more than I used to.

After a certain number of years, the spell wears off. Like, wait a minute, why was this guy so great? He was really sanctimonious, and he was really full of himself. He had an ego the size of California. And he always saw himself as a victim. He was constantly griping about how the world shortchanged him, how his brilliance was never given its due. When you take all of that into consideration, you wind up saying, “Why was I rooting for this guy?”

Back when the show first aired, Skyler was roundly disliked. I think that always troubled Anna Gunn [who played Skyler]. And I can tell you it always troubled me, because Skyler, the character, did nothing to deserve that. And Anna certainly did nothing to deserve that. She played the part beautifully. I realize in hindsight that the show was rigged, in the sense that the storytelling was solely through Walt’s eyes, even in scenes he wasn’t present for. Even Gus, his archenemy, didn’t suffer the animosity Skyler received. It’s a weird thing. I’m still thinking about it all these years later.

That's interesting. In "The Rockford Files," say, the character of Jim Rockford wouldn't change all that much in the course of a season, or even multiple seasons. Perhaps there was a sort of comfort in that lack of change. Yeah, there's a real pleasure to watching shows like that. Honestly, that's all I watch these days. I love the old stuff. I love old episodes of "Emergency!" and "The Rockford Files" and "Columbo" and "The Twilight Zone" and "Hogan's Heroes." It's comfort food for my brain. I hope that kind of storytelling never goes away. For my next show, I'd like the lead character to be an old-fashioned hero, an old-fashioned good guy. Jim Rockford is kind of rough around the edges, but he always does the right thing. Fifteen years ago, when I was conceiving of Walter White, I looked around and thought, Well, what is current TV? It's mostly good guys. But now I'm looking around, thinking, Gee, there's an awful lot of bad guys on TV, and not just on shows but on the news. It feels like a world of shitheels now, both in fiction and in real life. I think it's probably time again for a character who doesn't go for the easy money. I'd be very happy if I could write a more old-fashioned hero, someone who is not out for themselves at every turn.

That you’d follow the lead of the character rather than vice versa says something about you as a creator.

If there’s any secret to our success, I think it’s that. The TV shows we love are populated by characters who seem real to us. We don’t have to agree with them, but we get where they’re coming from. We comprehend them on an emotional level.

But you can’t do that by forcing them like square pegs into round holes. It sounds kind of artsy-fartsy, but you’ve got to listen to them. By that I mean you’ve got to be honest about what they would do next in any given situation. It was much more rewarding for us in the writers’ room when that kind of thinking led us to realizations such as Chuck’s resentment of his kid brother.

Sometimes, that takes you to some very unexpected plot destinations. Some of our very best ideas came at the eleventh hour, many seasons into both shows. In hindsight, I like the way we did it. The longer it took, the more nervous it made us that we didn’t have a clear road map. But we found our way. It was a struggle, but we purposely didn’t know how things were going to end at the beginning. We didn’t even know halfway through, probably.

#Vince Gilligan #One of the best writers out there #I have to agree - it will be nice to just have a good character

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ultraericthered · 2 years

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Digimon - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 19, 22, 23, 25, 26, 27.

Will answer the ones I can.

1. Matt/Sora, Tai/Meiko, and Takuya/Zoe. The former might've been planned but it didn't end up materializing on-screen so 02 forcing it anyway sort of kills its appeal for me, there was NO solid resolution with Meiko which rendered any ship teases meaningless, and I don't see where Takuya/Zoe even comes from, it's a boring idea anyway. 2. Takato/Rika. They're great as enemies-to-friends, but I think both of them would fit better with Jeri romantically. 3. Yes. Someone who actually thought Tri was good! 4. No strict NOTPs, though the ships on 1 really do push it. 5. Fandom managed to ruin TK/Kari well before Tri did. 7. The original 8 DigiDestined and Omnimon. To be clear, I still love them in the original Adventure, and they're alright in the reboot if I take it in a vacuum, but if I have to see them in the franchise again any time soon I'm gonna scream! 9. The ones I straight up loathe would be Yggdrasil, Meiko Mochizuki and Meicoomon, and especially Tagiru Akashi. 10. The Royal Knights arc in Frontier, the Yggdrasil arc in Savers, the entirety of Young Hunters, and the entirety of Tri + that movie. 11. Davis Motomiya. As in the English dub recharacterization of Daisuke Motomiya. Yes, I prefer him to Daisuke, come at me. 12. Yeah, the Server arc was the weakest overall in Adventure, but I still enjoy it immensely and remember it fondly, especially its latter section, which is when the series really made the transition from just good to great. 13. I prefer Kari in 02 to Kari in Adventure, and even then Yolei has her beat as Best Girl of 02. 14. It NEEDS to pay the non-Adventure series' more attention and give them more love, dammit! 15. Digimon Adventure 02, hot mess that it was, is still of higher quality and entertainment value than a lot of the later series. 16. I did whole Fixer Upper posts for Adventure 02, Savers, and Young Hunters already! 17. Instead of the Royal Knights arc, what if Cherubimon's defeat just...kind of instantly got Lucemon's seal broken and he could lead the gradual decimation of the Digital World himself? 19. THE SHIPPERS 22. Am I the only one who thinks Masaru Daimon is a complete ass who could've been way better developed beyond his fist punching, anti-intellectual toxic masculinity than he was? (Though this applies less to Marcus Damon, similar to my feelings on Daisuke VS Davis). 23. Yolei Inoue, Jeri Katou, and Angie Hinamoto are all underrated and deserve more appreciation. 25. See 16. 26 and 27. Don't know and don't care.

#Digimon #anime #Salty Ask List #opinion #meme

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xzho-writes · 2 years

Note

🌊 — SPOILERS FOR THE CHASM ARCHON QUEST !!!

okay but imagine zhongli with an s / o from khaenri'ah. someone place in a similar situation as dainslief, cursed and forced to wander teyvat after the destruction of their home. they finally decide to settle in liyue after discovering the chasm's effects on calming their curse and meets zhongli in the process.

the thing is, they have no clue he's rex lapis, simply assuming he's just some weirdo who was probably a rich kid growing up. they befriend him, grow closer, start developing feelings for him. meanwhile, zhongli is on the same boat; but he knows a khaenri'an when he sees one. he knows those eyes typical of their people better than most.

the reader and their suffering being a living reminder of what he did in the past and loving them is just painful because he feels so guilty about it. he knows you are willing, eager to pursue a romantic relationship with him and honestly, he is too. but he'd can't keep lying to you. that isn't fair, isn't right and he knows he doesn't deserve your love or affection after what he's done ( you're still suffering from the curse's effects, even now and he can see it ).

so he tells you he's rex lapis.

yes i'm evil. yes go on right ahead.

of ill-fated meetings and broken hearts

pairings: zhongli x gn!reader

genre: angst

warnings: mentions of death

a/n: CAN I JUST TELL YOU HOW MY JAW: DROPPED??? oh 🌊 nonnie, that’s so cruel of you 😭 but i love this idea! i might expand and make this a full fic (a long one at that). i’ll just write a lil snippet- the angsty moment where he reveals the truth now as a lil something to get our minds wandering :’) pls do tell me if you’d like this as a full fic!

you can find my masterlist here

(pain, suffering and spoilers utc!)

“i…” the man before you hesitates, clenching his fists tightly by his side. he breathes in slowly in an attempt to steel himself for the worst. “i am morax.”

the world seemingly twists and turns around you in a haze of disfigured shapes as you slowly bring your hand up to clutch the area around your heart, trying to quell the sudden burst of pain.

it doesn’t work. you feel as if you’ve just been shattered.

though zhongli doesn’t notice it, his breathing stills and his pulse rises with each moment of silence that passes in between the two of you.

there’s no way. it simply couldn’t be possible, right? he had to be lying.

you don’t realise the tremors wracking your body, and with each pitiful shake of your head came low moans, low sobs, of no, no, no.

a broken lament.

something familiar calls out to you but you pay it no mind. you’re far too caught up in the visions that haunt you in your dreams; images of absolute massacre, of bodies strewn across your beloved village. of the all-consuming flames that ravaged the place you once called home in its entirety.

these were the same visions that caused you such visceral pain. the whole point of choosing to live within the vicinity of the chasm was to ease such feelings of agony.

who knew that the root of all your suffering was the very man that stood just in front of you? the very man who had his hands on your swaying form- trying to prevent you from doubling over?

the person who you, dare you say it, love?

and who knew that these same hands that were soaked in the blood of an entire nation- your nation- could be so gentle, careful, as they held you?

for a moment you believe it best to turn that love, that affection, into past-tense.

but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t.

your eyes, brilliant gems that both literally and figuratively held the stars in them, glisten with the onslaught of fresh tears.

ones of grief, betrayal, and everything else in between.

and it was his fault.

his fault.

zhongli could only watch in utter remorse as you all but fell apart before him, slipping through his desperate embrace no matter how hard he tried to keep you together.

taglist

- ✦ @irethepotato , @gloomybow1 , @pinkuberii , @fiannee

published on 12/05/22

#zhongli x reader #zhongli angst #genshin x reader #xzho’s-asks #🌊-speaks #xzho’s-beloved-🌊#wHYYY MUST YOU HURT ME SO #WJJDNENSND #my heart rn…#i can’t be sobbing before i go to bed #what is this 😭#of ill-fated meetings and broken hearts

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highdramas · 3 years

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the world’s a little blurry | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: none

word count: 2107

summary: bucky is home, and he is yours

note: this is a one shot for now, but i definitely have more ideas for these two <3 this’ll be heavily inspired by tfatws so this is a spoiler warning for anything mentioned! also this is my first time writing bucky so pleaseeeeee give me some mercy lol

enjoy! <3

it’s nearly three in the morning, and you’re lucky if you stay up past midnight, so bucky makes a point to be quiet as he tiptoes into the apartment. after a mission gone awry in the apartment building where you had been neighbors, you’ve been staying with the superhero. something about not losing you and you’re safest here. bucky’s not stupid— caring about someone is a gamble, and it had become clear to his enemies who exactly it was that he cared about.

living with you came lots of things that bucky was not expecting. first off, you’re very cluttered. you call it controlled chaos, he calls it a mess. he’s fascinated by the state of your night stand, mostly. a dying plant and one loose airpod, two half empty water bottles, an empty starbucks cup.

second off, you have a cat. her name is katherine, but you call her kitty, occasionally kiki. and while bucky had been determined not to get attached, after awhile, it was difficult not to. she rubbed up on his legs, cuddled in his lap on the couch, slept on his chest in the middle of the night. she’s fucking adorable, and not even the winter soldier can deny that.

third off… you. you as a whole. he’s sure that it would’ve been a shock living with anyone, but the care that you give him… he’s not used to having someone making sure he’s eating. he’s not used to someone checking up on him throughout the day. he’s not used to having someone to come home to.

it’s nice.

it feels safe.

and he’ll kill anyone who tries to take this peace away from him.

bucky groans as he shucks his jacket off, feeling exactly where his muscles ache. he tries to keep his volume minimal. finally, he opens the door to the bedroom. the bedroom that you share.

this was the biggest adjustment of all.

he’d barely slept in a bed at all before you came along. too soft, too comfortable. he told you as much that first night, and what you had said shocked him.

“well, i’ll just sleep on the floor with you.”

no, oh, just get in bed. no, c’mon, it’s nice. none of those things. just understanding.

but it was more than understanding. it was meeting him exactly where he was.

that was three months ago, and you had kept your word. if you weren’t sleeping on the floor with him, you were on the couch with your hand tangling down, brushing along his hair, his shoulder. every time he felt you bucky swore that he could cry.

it was two months ago that he suggested you both sleep in the bed. and while it wasn’t every night, and some nights he padded out to the living room with a blanket and pillow… it was progress.

and he would wake up to find that you had joined him on the floor.

the nightmares weren’t gone. he’s not sure if they ever would be. but they were growing few and farer between, and the ones he did have were growing more manageable.

things were getting better.

of course, they were not perfect. and he knew that you didn’t expect them to be. he has therapy once a week, sometimes twice during the particularly hard weeks. he’s grown close with sam and his family. and… you.

his girl.

as the door creaks open, he almost chuckles at the sight of you. you’re laying horizontally across the bed, taking up both your side and bucky’s. katherine is curled in at your chest, her nose nearly touching yours. your mouth is open and he can see that there’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth, and that does make him laugh. it stirs you and he freezes.

bucky watches as you slowly wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and then rubbing the drool from your mouth. “ew,” you mumble, still half asleep, and bucky leans in the doorway wearing a smirk.

“go back to sleep, doll.”

you hum and stretch, and so does katherine, giving a wide yawn. “you’re home.”

home.

had he ever had a home before?

he did once, as a child. a time that feels so distant, so separate from the life that he leads now. sometimes, it’s hard to even picture the faces of his family members.

he had this apartment, but it never felt like home. not until you waltzed into it with your clutter and your laughter and your vibrancy. not until you cooked dinner hip to hip, not until you listened to music that he had never heard of, not until you watched some movie that was your favorite.

you’re home.

bucky smiles and he nods, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing your hair back. “i’m home,” he says quietly. “i’m sorry i’m so late.”

you shake your head, your hand taking his. he still wears the gloves. you raise your eyebrows at him. “can i?”

he nods. you make quick work of removing each of his gloves, tossing them across the room, which makes bucky smile. he knows he’ll be picking those up in the morning. you press a kiss to his palm, the one that is flesh and bone. and then you take the other and do the same. “missed you, buck.”

something in his heart constricts as he watches you-- washed in moonlight that comes in through the window, sleepy smile on your face, eyes fixed on him. he knows that look, and he knows what it means. he doesn’t know if he deserves it, but he tries. he’ll always try for you.

“i wasn’t even gone twenty four hours,” the smirk is evident in his tone even if you can’t see it, but you scoff and roll your eyes. “i think you’re needy.”

“needy!” you repeat and laugh, falling back onto the pillow. kitty stirs and looks up at bucky, letting out a loud meow. “she’s the needy one. look at her.”

“both of you.” he scratches kitty’s head and then kisses the top of yours before he stands again. “i’m gonna shower.”

sleep is escaping you and you push yourself up onto your palms. “can i join you?”

he chews on the inside of his cheek and shrugs his shoulders innocently. “better pick up the pace then, soldier.”

with a laugh, you kick the sheets off of you. “yes sir.”

he rolls his eyes and you both shuffle into the bathroom. now, in the light, you’re able to get a good look at him. and your jaw drops slightly at what you see. “bucky,” you say and he already knows what’s coming. you touch the side of his face where a bruise is blossoming. “how the hell does this even happen?”

“part of the gig.”

you groan and he smiles and he does so because he loves you. he loves your mess and he loves your doting, he loves your cat and he loves coming home to see that you’ve taken up the entire bed. “you’re an old man. one of these days you’re gonna have to retire.”

“got unfinished business first.”

you know of his past. of course you do. although, you’re a firm believer that it’s not his past, rather than a past that was decided for him against his will. you’ve made a point of making your stance in that clear. you have heard stories of what bucky has done, but you have tutted and shaken your head. “what hydra did.”

these are the things that bucky tells himself, but it is different to hear it from someone else. someone who is not steve, or sam, or another avenger who has also committed morally grey acts. because, yes, they are all good and trustworthy and worth listening to-- but you. you are his girl. you are his girl who laughs at his jokes and teases him and never once babies him for what happened to him, but you’re also the girl who has woken him from nightmares, who has tended to his wounds, who has been held back from a fight just to defend his honor. you have seen him in his entirety, and you have never balked.

“alright, well--” it’s not lost on you how his eyes trail down your body as you undress, turning on the water and checking the temperature. “as soon of this business of yours is finished…”

“i know.”

the two of you share a look and he gives a crooked grin. “you look nice.”

“there’s dried drool on my face.”

“yeah, i know.”

it’s been nearly a year since you met james buchanan barnes and yet he still gets you to blush. he practically lights up at the sight of the color on your cheeks. “are you--”

“shut up and get in the shower,” you retort, pulling back the curtain and stepping into the steaming water.

“yes, ma’am.” you hear the shuffling of his clothes falling to the floor and then he is behind you, hands going up and down your arms. you let out a sigh and tilt your head back, peering up at him. water trails down his nose, dripping off and onto your forehead.

you don’t tell bucky, but you do worry. you worry every second that he’s gone on a mission. you know that you don’t have to say it, that he knows. and you trust that he will come home to you. bucky turns you and he holds your face in his hands and he presses his lips to yours and you know that he feels the same way.

i’ll always come back is spelled out in the way that he kissed you, the way that he holds the back of your head. we have forever is heaved from your lungs as he sucks the air from you.

when you part, you smile at his lips-- slightly swollen, pinker than normal. you rub your thumb along the bottom one and he catches your hand. he presses it on his chest, right where his heart hides beneath skin and bone. “you don’t have to do all of this to make up for what they did to you,” you say over the sound of water. “you’re allowed to have a normal life, if you want it.”

“i know.” he pushes a piece of wet hair from your face. “i just don’t--” he shakes his head and you know this all too well-- he doesn’t quite know what to say, he starts closing up and off and away, the high walls that guard his heart and mind beginning to take shape. “i feel like if i don’t… what was it all for?”

delicate hands move across his torso. you lather up a loofah and begin washing away blood and grime. “bucky,” you say and he looks at you, steely blue eyes staring right into yours. “you make people happy. you have people who love you, who care for you. you don’t owe the world reparations.”

he winces as you go over a particular bruise and you slow your movements, make them featherlight. “all i know is,” you begin. “whatever it is you want, whatever it is that fulfills your life… make sure it’s for you.”

a smile curls on his face and he stills your hands. “thank you.” he takes the loofah from you. “let me get you.”

“but i’m not done--”

“please. let me.”

you surrender and he begins to wash you, and your forehead falls to his shoulder, calm washing over your body. you could’ve been standing there for minutes or hours, you’re unsure. he pushes your hair back and at some point you realize that he is washing your hair, and you press gently open mouthed kisses against his chest and you hear his breath catch and you fall in love with him all over again.

“let me get yours--” you mumble around a yawn and you watch as he smirks down at you. “really, let me.”

bucky shakes his head and he turns the water off. “tomorrow,” he says.

you towel off and when you clamber into bed, you feel the weight of him beside you, your cat nestled between the both of you. you feel him pull you into him, his breath against your neck and his lips against your pulse point, and your eyes flutter shut. before sleep captures you, you murmur, “i love you, james bucky barnes.”

the feeling of his smile against your skin is imprinted on your heart, and his words coax you into sleep-- “i love you too, doll.”

bucky barnes sleeps through the night and doesn’t wake once.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #my writing #the world's a little blurry #eeeee i'm so excited to post thissssss

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xyixxesx · 2 years

Text

Perfect | g.s.

pairing: satoru gojo x reader

summary: satoru shows up to your wedding sober. (an alternate version of this one shot.)

he had no intention of showing up to your wedding. he couldn’t stand the guy that was taking your hand in marriage and he knew for a fact that you deserved far better than you were settling for.

also, he always thought that maybe you would’ve chosen to find permanent solace in being his best friend that occasionally found her way into his bed most nights or vice versa. attending the wedding and bearing witness to such unholy matrimony would only serve as a stinging reminder that what he thought ended up being wrong.

you weren’t okay with being his closest friend and late night lover and you couldn’t understand his inability to commit to you, or to anybody, and you didn't admire the way that he would sometimes give you every last ounce of his attention. you didn't want sometimes, you wanted all the time. you wanted someone to call your own. a husband who didn’t fear monogamy. no matter how much you wanted satoru to be all of those things, you gathered that not even you could change him.

he ended up attending. he wanted to be selfish and blow it off. of course he wanted to see you happy, but he'd prefer to be the source of it. this wedding had nothing to do with him, or, more importantly, you and him, therefore he wanted no part in it. but, for whatever reason, he forced himself to put his own feelings aside and think of you. it’s what you wanted, otherwise why else would you have invited him? despite the obvious exception, satoru didn’t much get up to saying no to you. one of the perks of y’all’s not-relationship. he spoiled you rotten any way he could.

so he came to the wedding. even wore a nice suit. and his favorite part? he got to have a dance with you.

a soft love song that he wasn't terribly familiar with played through the speakers while you indulged him in a slow dance.

even with all of the other couples waltzing at your sides, satoru would swear it was just you and him in the venue. you smiled up at him, looking more beautiful than he had ever seen you. it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

“I trust your brand new hubby told you how breathtaking you look tonight.”

you only smiled in response. the entire thing was so bittersweet. you couldn’t help but wonder how different life would be if the two of you shared this dance as husband and wife, in another life. you loved the crazy man that you were dancing with, but you understood that you and your love fell much too short of being good enough for satoru gojo.

conversely, satoru spent the entirety of his attendance at your wedding dwelling on the fact that he wasn’t nearly enough for you. he didn’t deserve you. not as he was right here and now, at least, and he recognized that. you were perfect in every sense of the word. you had so much love to give and it scared the hell out of him. he’d never be able to amount to half the man that you deserved as long as that was the case. he had some serious things to work out on his own before he could create any kind of future with you, but he would work them out. he’d make sure that he did.

but, for now this would do. if all that he could offer you was a slow dance and a kind word then he’d just have to make sure that he could offer you the entire world and the stars later on.

maybe these were all selfish thoughts. maybe he should’ve retired the idea of you and him altogether and let you move on, but there were a lot of things satoru gojo should have done in his lifetime and didn’t. he was a selfish bastard, but that wouldn’t change how he felt.

when the song came to an end much sooner than either of you would have hoped, he pulled you against him tightly and wrapped both his arms around you. for a quick second, his face disappeared completely into the crook of your neck. when he pulled away at first it was only slightly so that his lips were just beside your ear, and he said, “congratulations, sweet girl. I wish you and him nothing but the best.”

tears stung your eyes at how final and closed-ended it sounded. like the story of you and him was finally coming to an earth shattering close, but little did you know, it was only the beginning.

in time, satoru gojo would become the kind of man that deserved you.

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cantaloupe-draws · 3 years

Text

El Chico del Apartamento 512

Irl! Quackity x Female! reader

Summary: Nothing interesting ever happens in the apartment complex you live in. It’s the same old routine for you. Constantly turning down your neighbor and heading too and from your apartment. Well that’s up until you meet the very cute boy that lives in apartment 512 that you can never seem to gather the courage to talk too. To make make matters worse, he shows up to the cafe you work at

Switches from Reader’s s POV to Quackity’s POV at the very end

Genre: Song fic, fluff, somewhat cafe trope, strangers to lovers, crushes

Warnings: use of Quackity’s real name, creepy neighbor, cursing, and I think that’s about it

Song :El Chico del Apartamento 512 by Selena

Lyrics are in bold

—

Every day is the same down the corridor

Every day it’s the same old thing. I pass the same old doors as I make my way towards my own at the end of the corridor. Counting the room numbers as I pass.

“508, 509, 510,-“ I count and but as soon as I reach room 511 the door suddenly swings forward and I’m greeted by both a whistle and Chad, my neighbor.

“Y/n baby I keep on waiting for you to go on a date with me like you promised,” Chad said as he stood in front of his door frame, right arm resting on the door. “I need to show you around town,” he said with a smirk as he rested his face on his fist.

I scoffed as I moved away from him, “The only thing you need right now is an urgent shower. You stink like a pig and it’s absolutely disgusting. Besides, I never promised you anything” I said, trying to continue on my way, but Chad just kept getting more and more persistent with every rejection. His nagging was getting annoying.

“Come Y/n I’ll take you to this bar across town, I’ll even pay for your drinks” he kept persisting.

You would think that any decent guy that’s asking you out on a date would obviously pay for them himself. It’s a given but this is Chad we’re talking about. I was sick of his terrible date ideas and I had to face him once again.

“Listen, I don’t know how many times I’ve told you this and how many times I’ll have to repeat it but, I don’t want to go on these stupids dates with you,” I told him as I rejected for what seemed to be the millionth time. And as soon as I said that the door beside us swung open.

Out came a young man wearing a navy blue cap that was covering almost the entirety of his hair but still managed to expose small tufts of dark brown hair from the sides. He looked up at the predicament Chad and I were both in and I was able to get a good look at him.

He had almond-shaped eyes that were a dark brown color and had various beauty marks scattered around his face. He was attractive. Very VERY attractive. Oh no I’m in deep shit, I thought to myself as I quickly turned away when I felt that I was staring at him for too long. He turns away from us and heads towards the elevator doors.

I stayed stunned for a few moments then turned to face Chad again, completely red in the face, dumbfounded, and at a complete loss for words. But before Chad could get another word out I quickly rushed to my apartment and leaned my back against the door once I got inside. My heart is beating fast and my chest feels tight and constricted. I quickly got myself a glass of water from my faucet and though it helped with my fast heart rate, it didn’t help the butterflies swarming around in my stomach. It might sound crazy but I think I’ve just met the man of my dreams.

Ever since then, I’ve made sure to take my sweet time walking down the corridor in hopes to see the cute boy from apartment 512 again. I’ve gone as far as to purposely make small talk and fake my interest in Chad in hopes to see him once more.

—

The boy from apartment 512 the one who makes my poor heart beat fast.

I walked into the elevator quickly pressing the button towards the first floor when I heard someone yell “HOLD THE DOOR PLEASE!”

Loud footsteps came barreling towards the elevator. The yell of itself was enough to get my blood pumping but, to make matters much worse it was the cute boy from apartment 512 who was coming towards me.

“Thank you so much,” he said out of breath once he got inside. He offered me a smile of gratitude as the elevator doors closed. I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a cap this time but, instead he was sporting a grey beanie with red and blue stripes.

‘He’s the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my entire life’ I internally screamed to myself.

“Yeah, no problem” I responded quietly in hopes I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.

Even if there weren't more than two pieces of dialogue uttered between us, it was enough for my heart to beat faster than the speed of light.

—

The boy from apartment 512 who causes me to stutter like I've never done before.

I was manning the cashier station at the cafe I worked at. It was filled to the brim with people who were either typing away on their laptops or having a conversation with their friends.

But on this day, I had finally learned his name.

The busy atmosphere had me tackling customers' orders from left to right, “Hello, may I take your order?” I said as the next customer approached me.

But surprisingly enough, I was greeted by a familiar face.

The cute boy from apartment 512.

“Yes, hello I would like a caramel macchiato please,” he said and I felt my face go red instantly.

Oh my god, it’s him again, I thought as I knew that my brain would start to scramble once more. “O-of course. Coming right up, n-name?” I asked him as I completely stumbled on my words.

“Alex,” he said, “Okay A-Alex your name will be called out when your order is ready,” I tell him as I continue on with my work.

My coworkers had never seen me lose composure like that. It was clear that they would never let me live this down but even if I made a complete fool of myself in front of him, a huge part of me also just wants to keep talking to him both night and day.

—

But today I have finally truly decided to confess my love to him

I mentally prepared myself for the next time I interacted with Alex. I’ve finally decided that the next time I would run into him, I would finally ask to get to know him better in hopes that one day friendship will blossom into a wonderful relationship. A giddy laugh escaped me as I thought of the idea.

The cafe was busy as usual, with the same groups of people coming in. As it hit peak rush hour the line of customers just kept getting longer and longer and I was attempting to quickly attend to them to the best of my ability. Somehow, this was not enough to deter the feelings of butterflies in my stomach.

I knock on his door and I get goosebumps,

a blonde answers the door and my heart breaks

As I heard the bell above our door ring once more I raised my head and saw him, Alex. He was holding the door open for a woman as she walked in. They stood close together as they waited in line. This might seem like a bit of an exaggeration but when I saw them conversing together waiting in line the butterflies that were once fluttering disappeared and were replaced with dread. As my heart dropped, I realized that one thing was wanting to be friends with him but, that doesn’t change the fact that I had grown feelings for him. If he’s in a relationship then, what now? I felt lost as to how to handle this.

As the line in front of me kept getting shorter and shorter, I was becoming anxious as his turn was approaching. Though as it was almost the pair’s turn to order, Alex suddenly turns around and leaves the line and when his turn arrives he still wasn’t there. Despite this, I still went ahead and tended his apparent girlfriend.

I truly felt my heart breaking into pieces when suddenly she asked:

"Were you looking for my brother?"

“Hello, may I take your order?” I asked her, “Yes, can I have a vanilla latte please? But um, can we wait a couple of minutes for my brother? He went to the restroom and didn’t tell me his order,” she asked. Then the realization hit me like a ton of bricks, this was his sister. I’m so dumb, how could I’ve not realized the resemblance between them?? “Yeah that’s no problem” I finally responded.

Soon enough Alex came rushing towards his sister, “I’m so sorry for the wait” he said once he reached the both of us. “Just hurry it up. I’ll be waiting for you at the table” His sister said as she turned her back to the both of us.

Turning my attention to him as I rang up his order he then speaks up “You’re one of my neighbors aren’t you?” He asks me with a grin. I stop in my tracks as if I’m a deer in headlights.

“Yeah I am actually” I smile at him trying to muster enough courage to continue our conversation.

“I thought so, you were the one who held the elevator door for me the other day right? Also, the one who was yelling at my neighbor.”

My face instantly goes red as I thought back to the first time I met Alex. “In my defense he deserved it. He’s been harassing me ever since I’ve moved in” I shudder at the thought of Chad.

“Yeah I’ve realized that he really is a douche, he enjoys banging on the damn walls at three in the morning” he said as we laugh together at the stupid things Chad has done.

“Okay, okay you’re order will be out shortly,” I tell him with a smile, feeling my heart skip a beat. But Alex doesn’t move from the line.

“To be honest the whole reason I even came here wasn’t really for a drink or anything.” He said gazing towards the floor and rubbed the back of his neck.

“This might be a bit sudden because we’ve barely met but I wanted to actually ask you for your number since you seem really nice and you’re very pretty. If you’re not interested then that’s fine, I’ll just take my drink and go” Alex said sheepishly.

After I heard these words I found myself dumbfounded. At a complete loss for words. ‘DID HE JUST SAY THAT??? HOW DO I RESPOND???’ and from there my mind was absolutely speeding to the point where I just stood there. ‘HURRY UP AND DO SOMETHING!!!’ I yelled at myself, but yet still nothing managed to escape. Alex began to fidget more and more playing with his hands as I just stood there without a response.

“It’s okay, I’ll just go now.” Alex quickly said leaving.

—

Alex’s POV

‘SHIT. FUCK. MOTHERFUCKER. STUPID IDIOT.’

I cursed at myself while I walked towards my sister. Laying my head on the table, covering it in utter embarrassment.

“That didn’t go well, did it?” My sister said while casually scrolling through her phone. “And here you were boasting about how much of a smooth talker you were. You sir, just got rejected.”

“Will you shut up?” I groaned at her not raising my head. I’m already embarrassed out of my mind and she is not making it any better.

“Fine fine, you big baby I’ll go get our drinks and then you can go home and cry.” She said standing up as our orders were called.

‘God, why did I think it was a good idea to bring my sister along? How had it not crossed my mind? I hadn’t even given it a second thought as to what I was gonna do if I did get rejected. And to make matters much worse I just got rejected in front of my sister. I will never hear the end of it at family reunions. I’m already mentally digging my grave when I heard my sister come back.

“I think this one is yours” She said as she placed my drink in front of me. I raise my head slightly so I would be able to see what was in front of me. I looked at my cup as it said:

‘To the cute boy from apartment 512’

‘xxx-xxx-xxxx -Y/n’

—

A/N- So this is the first time I’ve ever wrote fan fiction before, I mainly stick to drawing so please excuse any mistakes I tried my best. But I hope you liked it over all. Also the lyrics in English don’t make as much sense as they do in Spanish, and it’s was bugging me so if they seem a bit odd you know why.

A special thanks to @tofuyami she really helped me with the brainstorming and editing process <3

@hungoverhellhound @cherrysirin @tofuyami @nealocus @struggling-with-time @bugsinmycoldsoup @venusacrossthestars @galaxygnf

Also stand Selena always -🍈

#quackity x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #one shot #quackity #dream smp #real person fiction

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ryoskuna · 3 years

Text

⭑ promised eternity | hades!sukuna x persephone!reader au headcanons (PT 1).

A/N: ... yo... i would like to say whoever threatened to send me toe pics, a-plus, bc you made me release this into the wild. * insert megumi meme face here * but this is just HEADCANONS for a hades!sukuna and persephone!reader-esque universe, and because y’all are as thirsty as I am, it includes some SFW and NSFW headcanons. grab your water bottles, and I apologize for my subconscious now. (cause it’s always on auto-pilot and giving me wild af ideas.) We shall all thirst... over OG form sukuna as well, because ,, well, big daddy, do i need to say more??? also this is some seriously fantasy like au , sort of, it takes place during sukuna’s original time as a curse, when gojo’s ancestor was after him, and hints wildly on that, and also will hit moments where the sorcerers are of course, hunting him. feel free to give me your thoughts and ask questions, because i love you all. onward to the THIRST! ( also side note, promised eternity is the name of the potential series that may come from this. )

this is part one of the headcanons, and they’re all SFW.

being married to the king of curses is not easy. it’s awkward at first, and then later on, comforting at best. to have someone who believes in you, roots you on (even if he’s kind of mean about it at first), is better than having nothing. you’ve been looked at for so long as a “curse” for your untrained cursed energy, that to have someone who sees potential in your “god” given gifts instead of spite (or only useful in preventing a raid) is refreshing. and unsettling at first.

speaking of that, sukuna basically rescued you from your village. for the entirety of your life before him, your cursed energy has gone unchecked, untrained. so it fluctuates with your emotions. it’s useful when you summon your wrath to defend your village or when your untrained reverse cursed techniques help the crops grow— but any other time, you are known as a curse. your emotions grow sad or you grow angry, and people die accidentally. ( hence your harbinger of death nickname. ) sukuna, during his many trips to your village for taxes and the occasional “recruitment” of healthy women and me, he has noticed you. and he has noticed your vast amount of cursed energy. it’s all but too easy for him to command the head of your village to hand you over — your parent(s) have no say.

sukuna is generous enough to compensate them, and the head of village. it’s one of few kindnesses he’ll show, besides eventually to you. sukuna will never tell, not till much later on, that he noticed you in every visit he’s ever made. that you deserved better than the mockery and scorn of your people. he offers to burn them all for you, but your mercy says otherwise.

speaking of when he came to get you, he was 10 feet tall, dressed in a black montsuki kimono and hakama. all four of his arms are on display, and all four of his eyes are on you.

you, are in a shiromuku, complete with a wataboshi — you and your mother (or a village woman) made it, but it will not be the last of your “bridal” gowns as you travel through at least five villages before arriving at sukuna’s fortress-like palace. sukuna has prepared you both a uchikake style kimono (adorned with pinks and reds), a hikifurisode style kimono (black, but also adorned with whites and golds and reds)— lastly is the Tomesode, which you arrive to your new home in, adorned in pins and signs of your new status. it’s here you discover you are not meant to be a mistress, you are meant to be a wife. his wife. his first, and his only (or at least he’ll try to keep it that way).

sukuna does not make time for much. rumors of him are notorious of his over-indulgence, guided by only his pleasure and displeasure, which is slightly true. but he makes time for you. you aren’t like the others he’s taken in his time, whether for his entertainment or to be in his service (you are not his toy as he has a habit of disposing of his playthings once they bore him); you’re his wife, but you are also this powerful being, who if trained, will become even more powerful. if you were a sorcerer, you’d rival him — but you are his equal.

he tries to make you feel that way by shrinking down to your size. he drops his 10 ft height (even through he can grow larger), to 6′8 or 7ft (pick your preference). it helps him watch the way you fight him, and he’ll change his height to help you train to fight enemies of different sizes.

sukuna’s loyalty to you forms in the midst of gifts. he’s lavish and again, over-indulgent. before your lips ask for it, somehow you already have whatever you desire. however, he also realizes, the more that he’s around you that gifts don’t make you happy (as pleasing as they are). being in his company is what makes you happy. oh, and sukuna’s very careful to touch you. his strength knows no bounds, until you touch him. you have to be the one that touches him first. it’s a brush over the knuckles, your tiny hand wrapping around his big one.

the way you manipulate plants to your advantage as a defense will never not amaze him. the way you use vines to wrap around him to capture him is genius, and the sneak attack you give has gotten better. he’ll still tease you ask “is that the best you can do” with your hits to provoke more of your strength, and he’ll give praise at the end, in his own way. (more touches.)

sukuna’s untouched garden becomes yours as one of your wedding gifts. it’s yours, and all the servants know it. everyone on his grounds knows it is yours.

you haven’t realized it since your arrival, but there are female servants that are your handmaidens, but for the harem that sukuna supposedly keeps — you have no idea where they are. it isn’t till one of your handmaidens inform you that he freed them with compensation. it’s not an uncommon practice for him, you’re told. he does not keep anyone against their will, and he never forced the girls he kept to do anything. for him, war and fighting made his blood rush just as much as sex could.

you and sukuna’s cursed energy manages to mingle to create a rare flower, one that turns from a gold color to red at the tips of the petals. he later tells you that beautiful things can come from destruction, and it makes you think of yourself, and who you’ve become with his guidance as you look into his eyes.

the first time you sleep in his bed with him, he lays still on one side of the bed (which is unusual for him) until you beckon him closer. he meets you halfway in the middle, where you lay your head on his chest and listen to the sound of him breathing. he’ll never admit it at first, but the comfort you give to him is startling, but welcomed. he wraps two arms around you, but it isn’t until you’re sleep that all four hold you gently against him, as if those four arms are shields to keep you safe.

He admires your strength and the various ways it shows itself. He has since your “wedding day”, when you shed no tears at being taken from your family. When you told him “do what you will”, but also in your rage he tapped into when you wrapped thorny vines around him when he provoked you by calling you “a murderous curse of a girl”. He apologizes for this comment at some point, while you two lay together in the garden.

he presents to you a crown, shaped after the marks on his forehead (preserved through a picture painted on a fan). it is two horns towards the ceiling, made of black metal the color of obsidian.

sukuna enjoys towering over you. and more importantly, once it no longer startles you, you enjoy the safety that his height reminds you of.

the form of trust sukuna has with you is seen by the servants when assigns advisors to you, as well as teaches you how to deal with trials when they come forth. you are his rose with thorns now, and you know how to use them.

someone speaks ill of sukuna? you are reminding them of their place: “speak ill of your king again with that tongue of yours and i’ll take it”

OKAY BADASS, and sukuna is all for it, just “that’s my s/o”

and lord, the pet names this man has for you: “my dove” “my love” “my moon” and you with: “my sun and stars” (thank u got)... he’s got a lot of pet names.

he likes to hold you on his side for some reason, whenever he can. honestly, he just likes you close.

basically, you’re tough as hell and powerful as hell and you grow into your added strength and he loves it.

can you say POWER COUPLE OF THE AGES

#persephone & hades au ft. sukuna.#persephone and hades au ft. sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna.#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk hcs #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk.#ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna #ryomen sukuna

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls Extra 1

- ao3 -

Lan Xichen spent a lot of time learning his family’s rules.

They were important to his uncle, who raised him, and that meant that they were important to him. They were his heritage and his birthright, and anyway he loved his uncle and it made him happy which was good enough for Lan Xichen, but that didn’t make learning them easy or anything. Each rule had to be learned both by itself and in context with others; it wasn’t as simple as memorizing a list and calling it done. You had to learn them and know them and then live up to them to the best of your ability, and that was the work of a lifetime – which Lan Xichen, now six years old, had been informed was an awful long time.

Moreover, though his uncle had never said so, Lan Xichen had heard from the other people in the sect that learning the rules was important because following the rules would make sure he didn’t turn out like his father, who had let down so many people in their sect. Many of the elders said things like that when his uncle wasn’t around, though his uncle never did – his uncle spoke well of their father, although in abstract tones, but sometimes he looked sad about it, too, and therefore Lan Xichen was determined to listen and learn the rules well so that he would never disappoint his uncle the way his father had.

Of course, there were other advantages to learning the rules.

The commentary, for instance.

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Talking behind other people's backs is prohibited.

“Unless it’s really funny,” Lan Yueheng said, and – as always – seemed not to notice the way Lan Xichen’s uncle glared at him. “Oooh, actually, let me give you an example, I just heard the best story –”

“If you don’t understand those around you, you will be at their mercy, rather than they at yours,” Wen Ruohan said, perfectly poised and with a sharp smirk, just the way he always was unless he happened to be talking to Lan Xichen’s uncle. “How better to learn to understand people than to know what others say about them when they are not around?” His smirk widened. “Look at what people say about me.”

“What are you supposed to do if you don’t?” Lao Nie asked, grinning wickedly. “Say mean things about them in front of their faces instead? I can do that!”

“I mean, if it’s news, it’s not gossip, right?” Cangse Sanren said, tapping her cheek while pretending to be thoughtful as if it would hide her great big smile. “I’m sure that’s how I learned it, and I was a very good student – no, no, don’t listen to what your uncle says!”

“Well, I wish my mother would do less of it,” Wen Xu said, rolling his eyes. He’d come along to visit with his father again the way he always did – he was always tagging along with his father, really, and his father indulged him more often than he probably should, according to both sects’ elders. Not that Wen Ruohan listened to anyone but Lan Xichen’s uncle. “Sometimes I think that’s all she does! It’s boring!”

“If you mean what you say and say what you mean, then your friends will never doubt you whether you are in front of them or not,” Nie Mingjue said, then frowned. “I mean, I think?”

“Listen to A-Jue,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said when Lan Xichen reported on the discussions, throwing up his hands in disgust. “He’s the only one of the lot of them worth anything.”

“It’s his mother’s contribution,” Lao Nie opined.

“It’s certainly not yours,” Wen Ruohan said. “Anyway, what was wrong with A-Xu’s answer? It was accurate.”

“It has nothing to do with the rule!”

“That’s because I’ve already mastered it years ago,” Wen Xu said cheerfully. Surprisingly cheerfully, given that Nie Mingjue was sitting on him again; maybe he’d gotten used to Nie Mingjue always winning.

Lan Xichen’s uncle rubbed his forehead. “A-Xu, if you really want to go copy the rules on humility a few more times, you don’t have to wait for me to instruct you to do so –”

“He’s right, though,” Cangse Sanren cackled from her husband’s lap. “Madame Wen is an amazing source of gossip, but it does get a bit boring sometimes. You can’t punish him for being right!”

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Do not succumb to rage.

“Unless there’s a very good reason,” Lao Nie said, picking Lan Xichen up in one arm as if he weighed as little as a feather, and Nie Mingjue in the other just as easily, even though he was much bigger. “In the world there are many injustices, and it is your duty to fight against them with everything that you have – if you are wholly above the feeling of rage, then you have forgotten your empathy, and soon will follow the crooked path into indifference.”

“The issue is succumbing to rage,” Wen Ruohan said. “You can be angry, or even furious, but you should always maintain your self-control. Once you’ve mastered yourself, you can master others.”

“He means get revenge,” Wen Xu said knowledgably. “You get angry, then you get even.”

“Oh, rage?” Cangse Sanren asked, rolling up her sleeves. “Well, as it happens, I’m going to go have a chat with your mother, I’ll give you a good demonstration of –”

“You are doing no such thing,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said, exasperated. “Get back here.”

“It’s a waste of time,” Lan Yueheng said. “Getting angry takes time and energy. Why not be happy instead?” He thought about it. “Well, I mean, sometimes cursing a little bit when something goes wrong is nice. Even the calmest concoction needs to blow off steam sometimes to retain its equilibrium!”

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Do not disrespect your elders.

“And I,” Wen Ruohan said, looking positively gleeful, “am the eldest.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said at once. “Xichen, you hear me? Don’t listen to him.”

“There’s a difference between disrespect and disobedience,” Cangse Sanren said. “Being old doesn’t mean being right, it means that there’s a greater probability that they’ve encountered something in their lifetime that will give them an insight you lack. You should honor and respect their insight, but always make your own decisions in the end.”

“I mean, you could always listen to me, instead,” Lao Nie said. “I’m your elder too, aren’t I?”

“Don’t listen to either Uncle Wen or my father,” Nie Mingjue said, looking long-suffering. “They both like to play tricks.”

“Wait,” Lan Yueheng said. “I’m an elder? Since when? That’s a terrible idea!”

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Do not take advantage of your position to oppress others.

“Don’t listen to Wen Ruohan,” Cangse Sanren said.

“Don’t listen to Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Yueheng said.

“Definitely do not listen to Hanhan,” Lao Nie said. “At all. In any way.”

“Probably best not to listen to A-Xu’s dad,” Nie Mingjue said, and glanced over apologetically.

“No, no, you’re right,” Wen Xu said, nodding furiously. “He’s kind of awful about these sorts of things.”

“They’re all being absolutely ridiculous,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’m perfectly reliable on such matters. After all, what’s the point of working so hard to obtain and maintain power if you don’t oppress those that deserve it? If you don’t take advantage, who will?”

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Do not make assumptions about others.

“I used to assume that Cangse Sanren was a normal human being,” Lan Yueheng said. “Goes to show what I know, right?”

“I used to assume that Wen Ruohan was a perfectly normal self-absorbed murderer that would keep his greedy hands to his own people,” Cangse Sanren said, sounding irritable. “And not have perfectly ordinary rogue cultivators followed around by complete weirdos because he’s secretly worried about them like a mother hen!”

“I used to assume that people would be grateful when someone rescued them and their husband from near certain death,” Wen Ruohan said.

“I used to assume that the funniest thing in the world was watching Hanhan argue with your uncle,” Lao Nie said, chin on his hands. “Little did I know that adding Cangse Sanren to the mix made it even funnier.”

“Grown-ups are stupid sometimes,” Wen Xu said. “That’s why you have to verify everything they say for yourself.”

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Embrace the entirety of the world.

“By being righteous,” Nie Mingjue said.

“By taking it all over, as far as I can tell from my father,” Wen Xu said.

“Depends on what you define as the world, doesn’t it?” Lao Nie said.

“Be ambitious,” Wen Ruohan said. “Define it broadly.”

“I mean, I don’t think your arms are quite long enough yet, the world’s pretty big,” Lan Yueheng said. “But I pick you up and swing you around, maybe they’ll stretch a little. Want to try?”

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Do not associate with evil.

“I mean, it’s true, but you have to think carefully about what you categorize as evil,” Lao Nie said. “Just being a man-eating nation-destroying inhuman amoral nine-tailed fox isn’t automatically enough to qualify, right?”

“That’s, uh, a really weirdly specific example,” Lan Yueheng said. “I feel like at least three of the things on that list probably rise to the level of evil? Or have I missed something?”

“Lao Nie said – oh no, not again,” Wen Ruohan said, and patted Lan Xichen on the head before he stalked out the door. “I’m the only evil you should associate with, you hear me?”

“I bet she’s got teeth in interesting places,” Cangse Sanren said. “I’ve got to meet her…hmm? Evil? Does that really matter? It’s going to be funny.”

“She’s not evil,” Nie Mingjue said. “She’s pretty nice, actually. She calls me ‘meatball’ and ‘pork bun’ and says I’m so cute that she wants to eat me right up.”

“I’m pretty sure she means it literally,” Wen Xu said. “Gear up, Xichen! We’ve got to go save Mingjue!”

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Do not tell lies.

“People don’t believe the truth, so why not tell it?” Cangse Sanren said.

“Using the truth makes your misdirections more believable and your critiques more devastating,” Wen Ruohan said.

“Why would you even want to lie?” Nie Mingjue asked, puzzled.

“There’s a difference between not telling lies and not having the slightest bit of tact,” Lao Nie said, rubbing his face. “Maybe you can help A-Jue figure that out.”

“Silence is always a good alternative when you don’t want to admit to stuff you’ve done that maybe, just maybe, might annoy some people,” Lan Yueheng said, looking over his collapsed laboratory with a wince. “Not that I’d know anything about that, of course.”

“Telling a lie will only get you into more trouble later when they figure it out,” Wen Xu said. “Because then they’re angry at you for what you did and for lying about it. It’s just not worth it!”

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Do not disregard the rules.

“Unless they’re really stupid,” Lao Nie said.

“I mean,” Nie Mingjue said, wrinkling his nose. “As a general rule, yes. But it’s different if following the rules would permit injustice to happen, that’s for sure.”

“It’s a matter of picking what rule is the relevant one,” Wen Ruohan said. “Be thoughtful, and you can have the moral high ground in any situation…your uncle is irritatingly good at that.”

“You’ve got to know what the rule is before you break it,” Wen Xu said. “That way you can decide if it’s worth the cost of breaking it or not.”

“If there’s any you think are wrong, you should say something,” Lan Yueheng said. “The rules are a gift handed down from our ancestors and ought to be respected, but each of us has a duty to put in our own thoughts as well – our contribution to the next generation down. Anyway, your uncle will probably be able to put together a reasonable argument as to why changing the rule is appropriate and truer to our sect’s principles than the version carved on the wall. He’s good at that!”

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

“I want the rules to be a foundation under your feet,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said. “They should give you confidence in your actions and pride in your family and sect; they should not feel like they are binding you. If they are, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

Maybe if it was just Lan Xichen and his uncle, the two of them and maybe also little baby Lan Wangji and the rather unreliable Lan Yueheng and the even more unreliable Lao Nie, Lan Xichen would immediately and unhesitatingly agree, and then never say anything anyway no matter what he felt. He loved his uncle so much, and every one in a while his uncle seemed so sad; he couldn’t bear to be the one to add more pain and burden to his uncle’s shoulders, already weighed down with the expectations of the sect that should have been his father’s responsibility and would one day be Lan Xichen’s.

But it wasn’t just them, and Lan Xichen frowned a little, really thinking about it. “Maybe,” he said after a while. “Or maybe I’d tell Uncle Wen about it, and then he’d find a way to fix it, or to tell you about it in a way that didn’t make you sad. Does that work, too?”

His uncle looked amused.

“Yes,” he said. “That works. Just remember –”

“Don’t listen to him about ‘oppressing others’?”

“Exactly.”

#mdzs #lan xichen #lan quiren #wen ruohan #sect leader nie #nie mingjue #wen xu #cangse sanren #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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remakethestars · 3 years

Text

Being Damian Wayne's Twin Sister Would Include:

Headcanons.

❝Exactly. I don't ask my dog to drive, and I don't ask the Justice League to solve my problems.❞

— Damian Wayne, Adventures of the Super Sons #9: Showdown on Hexworld

TRIGGER WARNING: Cursing, (Damian’s) death. Mentions of toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny, nightmares, blood, knives.

Headcanon masterlist.

When people ask you, “So, which one of you is the evil twin?” Damian always glowers, and you always motion to him.

You look disturbingly alike when only your eyes are showing; Damian’s got long lashes. Talia taught you a good tactic for tag-teaming in combat as kids was to pull up your hinged balaclavas and make the enemy think there was only one of you, that they’re seeing double.

Or for one of you to hang back while the other attacks as a distraction before the other knocks them out from behind.

Obviously, this won’t work when the two of you start filling out, but it works when you’re kids. It’s the reason why, even off the field, the two of you usually wear a matching outfits with hoods.

You utilize the same methods when she sends you to live with Bruce.

You don the Robin costume just like he does, much to the rest of the Batfam’s confusion (both because they weren’t expecting it and because they can’t tell you apart either), but sticking with the “red” theme, you go by Redstart.

There’s a rumor on the street that Robin V. is a meta that can teleport.

The two of you are freakishly good at mimicking the other’s voice and mannerisms, which makes it even harder for your family.

Jason tells you two about April Fools Day, and you make the most of it. Of course, Damian’s a pain in the a$$ and decides to go around pretending to be you and getting into trouble. You’re banned from the mall, and you still have no idea why.

The two of you can communicate with just an impassive expression (Dick says it looks like a prime example of twin telepathy to anyone else), but anyone close to you knows sh¡t’s about to hit the fan when the two of you look at each other and smirk.

If it’s something you can’t communicate nonverbally, you use your cryptophasia.

Cryptophasia is a language developed by twins when they’re learning to talk. Most of them grow out of it, you and Damian decided to keep developing it so it became more of a conlang. No one else has been taught to speak it, and they never will be. It’s for emergencies only.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was your Bible growing up, and the two of you call out verses when you fight together and need the other to understand a tactic (you both inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory, so you’ve got it memorized).

When you get too big to pull off the which-is-which game, you make your own costume and become the true Redstart.

It’s basically Damian’s Robin uniform (the Super Sons’s version is the only one I’ll accept), but the boots and gloves are black, the biceps have a white stripe, the lining of the cape is white (the lining of the hood is black), the gold accents become white, it has a zipper down the front instead of clasps, and the mask becomes black (including the eyes). The waterline of the eyes is white. Like a painted redstart.

If Damian’s into animals, you’re into plants. The two of you find common ground on the fact that pollution sucks, so when you walk Titus, you take a trash bag and gloves with you to pick up litter as you go.

You did not want to go to Jon’s school.

Not because you don’t like Jon (because you do), but because you know you could run intellectual circles around every one of those snot-nosed brats.

School is stupid. Especially because the American education system is subpar; everything about it is.

You hardly pay attention in class. You do all of the homework a week ahead of time incase something comes up. Usually you’re doing next week’s homework in class. You’ve written entire papers on your phone in Google Docs in the middle of class to be printed out later.

If you’ve already done everything, Damian’s usually drawing and you’re daydreaming or you’re working on a case on your phone.

The teachers are always trying to catch you not paying attention, but you little sh¡ts can always answer their questions.

Damian’s closest with Dick, but you’re closest with Tim. You admire his ability to plan ahead (see the entirety of the Red Robin comics), and you know that he’s better than both your father and your grandfather; you want to be as good as him when you grow up.

It takes a long time to wash the toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny our of your head, to learn that your grandfather’s ideas of “strength” were wrong, that it’s okay to lean on someone besides Damian, that you can be just as strong as your brother and still be feminine, that there are acceptable emotions besides anger.

Actually, your father teaches you that anger is more likely to get you killed. He won’t let you go into the field when he knows your angry.

It’s harder to drill out of you than your instinct to kill.

There’s a Lebanese restaurant called Tarbooshes (Teen Titans Special #1) the two of you go to when you’re feeling homesick. They make ox blood soup the same way your mother did, and it’s the only non-vegetarian thing Damian will eat for that very reason.

It’s nice to have a place to go where they know you by name and know what you want when you tell them “the usual.” It’s nice to have a place where you’re not a Wayne or an Al Ghul, where you’re just [Y/N] and Damian.

You disappear for an hour on your birthday to eat there. Bruce has asked you were you go, but you kept that between the two of you.

Speaking of birthdays, you’re eleven minutes older than him. He was six pounds and ten ounces (Batman & Robin #0?), and you were a solid seven.

After Damian died, you go to Tarbooshes to feel close to him.

You were doing all right with the no-killing thing until the night Damian died.

Heretic never stood a chance.

He looked so much like Damian it gave you nightmares, though. Nightmares where you killed your twin brother and woke up sobbing.

Damian didn’t give you a speech in his last moments. He just looked over at you and said in your cryptophasia, “I’m sorry.”

Not “I love you.” Not “Take care of them for me.” You knew that; you’d do that. He didn’t have to tell you, and he didn’t have to ask.

Just “I’m sorry.” Sorry that you were the one that was left behind.

It’s one thing to lose a family member, to lose a friend, or to lose a lover. It’s another to lose half of your soul.

The two of you had always feared you would die apart. It had always been a possibility; you weren’t stupid enough to think, “It’ll never happen to me.” Because it definitely could.

And it had.

You wanted to run away from everything. Even just for a while. Go to one of your safe houses in London or France or whatever and just — you didn’t know — stare at the wall until you felt better? But you’d made that unspoken promise to Damian — “I’ll take care of them for you; don’t worry.” — to take care of Titus and Catfred and Jerry and Batcow and Goliath, to take care of Alfred and Bruce and Dick and Jason and Cassandra and Tim, to take care of Jon and Colin and Maps.

You avoided the cave. And if you had to go down there for some reason, you refused to look at the Robin suits.

Dick noticed. He asked if you wanted them taken down, even just for a while. You gave him a look like he was nuts and said, “No.”

Jon was a mess. More of a mess than you were, somehow.

You’d shown up at the Kents’s. Jon was out doing Superboy things with Clark and Conner. Lois was the only one home.

You nearly scared her out of her skin when you materialized behind her and asked, “Is Jon home? It’s important.”

He had to know first. He deserved to.

For all he put up with from you two, he deserved to be the first to know when one of you was f*cking dead.

Lois, of course, bless her heart, had the mom instincts to know that you were in no way, shape, or form okay even when you were trying so hard to hold yourself together. She asked you what’s wrong, and it’s what made you break.

Your lip trembled. “He’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“Damian,” your voice broke. “He’s dead.”

Jon came home to find you in his living room in your Robin uniform, covered in Damian’s and Heretic’s blood, snot running down your lip, sobbing in his mothers arms and knew what happened without having to ask. He did anyway.

When you and Jon both finally passed out, your Uncle Clark flew you back to the Batcave. No one was in any condition — not even Alfred — so he carried you up to your room; took your boots, mask, cape, and gloves off; and tucked you in. Then he went to find Bruce because there was no doubt he was losing it too.

Bruce doesn’t tell you anything about trying to find a way to bring him back without the Lazarus pit because he doesn’t want to get your hopes up.

You walk into your room one day to find Damian sitting there reading the dissertation (the requirement was three pages, not 120, but your teacher would just have to deal with your coping mechanisms) you had been working on for your World History class and left up on your laptop while on patrol.

He said with the utmost indifference, “You’ve made some good points, Sister,” and, of course, you pulled out a knife and attacked him because this was — was — was some shapeshifting alien or hologram tech or a cruel joke — your twin was dead, this wasn’t funny, whoever did this was going to pay.

He met you blow-for-blow and flipped away from you before saying, “And here I was expecting a warm welcome,” in your cryptophasia.

“Brother?”

“Tt. Obviously.”

Yeah, a college level thesis. You’re smart. You inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory and were raised by assassins.

You learned seven languages and wrote five doctoral theses by the time your teeth came in, wrote your first letter to a newspaper editor when you were two, could’ve had a geology doctorate when you were seven (Super Sons #1), and it only took you a week to learn the language on Takron-Galtos. You’re smart.

You’re also incredibly skilled. You learned to drive when you were five (Super Sons #1), your mother trained you to go for weeks without eating (Adventures of the Super Sons #6), you can micro-sleep for days and converse with half your brain asleep, can use a muscular contraction to move your liver out of the way of a blade (Nightwing #20), and can place yourself in a deep trance to heal damages caused by a hematoma (also #20).

(My dumba$$ didn’t note what Super Sons/Adventure of the Super Sons comic I was reading when I took notes, so I don’t have all of them noted in the two above bullet points. But that’s where they’re from. If I end up rereading them, I’ll edit this and add the comic numbers.)

The first time on patrol you thought Bruce was gonna die, you called him Baba.

The next evening, when Dick came to visit the cave, he turned to you and Damian and asked, “So, which one of you called him Dad?”

“How’d you know?” you asked.

“He’s smiling the way he did the day I called him Tati.”

“He’s not smiling,” Damian pointed out.

“He is on the inside.”

Can we talk about how royally the Arkham Knights game screwed up Tim Drake? (Though, everything seems to screw up Tim one way or another, I guess.) Why does he look like a quidditch player in the gif above the cut?

Visit my headcanon masterlist.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ I’m a dumb white American, and I don’t know much about Arab or Romani culture other than what I’ve learned online. I hope I got it right?? If I didn’t, please drop a comment or P.M. me or something to let me know!

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aerialflight · 3 years

Text

Fic Rec (it's been too long and I read a whole lot of fics)

I've read so many fics these past couple of months and my need to share them to the world has seized me by the throat. Please enjoy and support these fanfic writers! They are the best. XD

[Naruto]

Nine-Tailed Foxes are Dead by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Shikamaru/Naruto

For Konoha, it's been one month since the preliminary Chunin exams. For Naruto, it's been six. And he wasn't in Konoha.

At the end of his ordeal, Naruto walks into the Chunin Exam finals without his left arm.

Shikamaru is very concerned. And, eventually, very precious to Naruto as they work together to solve the mysteries of Konoha and bring kindness to the Shinobi world, one adventure at a time.

(I would die for this fic. I know the summary sounds doom and gloom but IT'S NOT. This fic made me fucking cry, I don't think I've ever read a fic that characterized Naruto so right. He's so full of hope and love and develops into the best version of himself and I'm so HERE FOR IT. And it's not just Naruto, Shikamaru is absolutely amazing here along with Kakashi and surprise surprise Ino, I can't BELIEVE it took me this long to stumble across this fic. Also THE WORLDBUILDING IS TO DIE FOR!!! And the plot! Is! So! Interesting! Just, everything about this fic is just amazing so please PLEASE read this!!!)

The End of the Uchiha by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Naruto/Sasuke

“I promise, little electric spirit of this shrine,” he whispered into the soft dirt and fallen leaves, “I will never gain the eyes. I will never pass them on. And I will make sure the eyes end in my brother, so that they can’t hurt anybody anymore. I will be the last Uchiha, and see to the end of the Copy-Wheel Clan. Then all of the hatred here can stop, and my family can rest peacefully. I promise, little shrine.”

Sasuke is more than his brother thinks he is. He's more than any Uchiha has ever been. He will kill his brother, but it will not be vengeance.

It will be mercy.

(Same author as the one above, they are the gift that keeps on giving. Seriously, HOW did I NEVER FIND THESE FICS before now??? One of life's greatest mysteries. The author's sense of humor is so on point here along with the atmospheric writing that's so vivid in the mind. Their writing style is so recognizable to me now and makes me fall into the world they're creating, it's stunning. Sasuke here makes me want to hug him and the idea of him living like a feral ghibli character has me LIVING. Check the tags of the fic, all of it is true, hand to god. Please give all of the author's fics a shot, it's a rabbit hole I'm thankful I fell into!)

mil fantasmas (gritan en calma) by LegaciesandMemories

Post-Tsukuyomi, something in Uchiha Sasuke's mind shatters. The same night, Yamanaka Ino falls asleep and doesn't wake up for 15 days.

---

In which Ino and Sasuke both wake from the aftermath of the Uchiha Massacre with the ability to see ghosts, and no one is prepared for the fallout.

(This fic has arrested my curiosity and eagerness to know what will happen next. These poor kids need so many hugs and Ino is getting the spotlight she deserves. I am so excited for this fic and what it has in store! Please read! XD)

Lichtenberg Figures by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Name: Kakashi Hatake Rank: Jounin Status: Missing Nin Missing Since: June 15th, 271 AD Note: Flee on Sight . . . Haburashi looked his team in the eyes— three, fresh out of the Academy genin— and resolved to teach them as best as he could. And right now, his lesson was simple: “Stay. Away. From. Kakashi. Hatake.”

(Dimension travel fic with a slice of Kakashi being an absolute troll and dealing with the shitty hand he's been dealt with. Seriously, the man has the worst luck in all of Konoha. Also, the mystery of the other Kakashi's history has me leaning by the edge of my seat, I need to know.)

The Governess by Ysmirel

Ship: Kakashi/OFC

"“What,” he finally asked, “is so funny?”

Ibara bit her lower lip to keep the chuckles in, still smiling and making absolutely no effort to get more space between them, seemingly perfectly at ease within reach of a trained shinobi. Her self-control wasn't all that good, as she ended up snorting and was overcame once again by another fit of laughter. “I just- It's just-” She struggled to speak, trying to catch her breath and wiping away tears of mirth with the hand that wasn't still holding onto his vest. Finally, she looked him in the eye and said, with a smile that was all teeth and without a hint of her previous drunken stupor, “and who's going to believe you?”

As he stood there, stunned by her words and change in demeanor, he realized with dawning horror that she was right."

In which Kakashi finds himself at the other end of the troll shtick, and he doesn't appreciate it all that much.

(It's so hard to find self-insert fics with a fresh concept these days, especially in the naruto fandom. Not that I don't enjoy and devour a lot of self insert fics like it's going out of style, but it's just so nice to find something new and shiny and really damn good. I'm so pumped for this fic and how it's going to develop so please join me in rooting for this fic!)

half a league (until the valley of death) by SpectersShadow117

Kakashi can think of no reason for Sasuke's inexplicable and drastic change in behavior. He doesn't like the desperate, haunted gleam in his student's eyes, and he also doesn't like the nagging feeling that he's missing something very important. Aka: Future Sasuke goes to Past Sasuke and gives him a reality check with Specific Intentions, but as with most Uchiha, his methods leave much to be desired. (Featuring: Childhood trauma FTW, Konoha's shitty care of orphans, and absolutely no one having a fun time.)

(Sasuke wanting to change the future out of complete and utter spite has me LIVING. Sasuke is such a Mess here and the twist on the time travel premise is so good and the kid is so Traumatized and Desperate and Not Having A Good Time. Naruto and Sakura developing as better ninjas and Kakashi trying his best makes me want to scream. Also, how Sasuke thinks about Itachi makes me want to cackle. I am 100% down for this. I am rooting for this kid, go get them! XD)

[Harry Potter]

fruit loops in time (circle around me) by justprompts

Ships: Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius

"This is Crabbe, and Goyle," the blonde boy says, pointing at the two boys next to him. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Ma - "

Ron laughs, and Malfoy immediately bristles.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" Malfoy says, angrily. "No need to ask yours - "

"You're honestly so cute," Ron interrupts, yet again, shaking his head. "So tiny. And so angry, all the time. It's adorable."

Alternatively Ron Weasley, Time Traveller Extraordinaire, is stuck in the same seven year Hogwarts Loop, repeating the same thing over and over again. Naturally, he's so done with everything.

(This is the greatest hp fic I've ever read. I LOVE RON WEASLEY and by the time you read this fic SO WILL YOU!! This is the fic I WISH I have the ability to write. I read this entire fic aloud to my brother and we spent literal hours howling and talking about how utterly insane and incredible this fic is, it's amazing. This is hands down my favorite Ron Weasley. You Can Pry This Fic From My Cold Dead Fingers.)

[Boku no Hero Academia]

Kacchan's Cult by Ourliazo

Pro Hero Ground Zero is attacked, originally meant to be de-aged out of existence by a desperate villain but is instead launched into his 14-year-old self.

But Katsuki is a fucking pro so whatever, time to fuck up someone's day. And sure, maybe he's only one man, but that's why he conscripts the entirety of the UA student body into tearing down some criminal empires.

(It's time travel, crack, and Bakugou being his usual explody, competent self. What more in life do you want? Seriously though, please read. I'm obsessed with this fic and having a Good Time!)

Cleaning Crew; Teaching Kids to Value their Safety, for Fun and Profit by Reavv

Takenaka Hideo is a thirty-two year old, in mild desperation for money, who has just been hired as a new janitor for UA's support staff. He has a quirk that lets him find lost objects, a liaison with the police because of it, and desperate desire for competent co-workers.

Oh, and he's already lived a previous life, in a world where quirks and heroes didn't even exist.

Not a big deal, though. It's not like you ever see the janitor playing a big part in action movies. He's here to get paid, and that's it.

On the opposite side of the equation, class 1-A has to wonder at the new UA cryptid that always seems to show up when things are on fire, and who keeps trying to convince them to let the adults handle the fire extinguisher.

(A great deal of fun packed into one fic. That is how I title this fic and nothing will change my mind! Hideo just wants to quietly do his job and not get in the way. I Relate. Please read!)

Poltergeist by WriterGreenReads

Class 1-A is haunted.

Well, not really.

I AM dead, though.

World's friendliest poltergeist, at your service.

(I don't know how I got so sucked into OC fics, but I found some fantastic fics along the way so I have no regrets. The author really tries to push the premise and I just love all the interactions and dynamics that form as the fic gets further in. And the OC character and all the hijinks they get up to cracks me up! At the same time, it's pretty heartwarming and it's practically a friendships galore fic! Definitely recommend it!)

invincible by supercrunch for Engrin

Ship: Bakugou/Midoriya

This is the way the world works: the sun rises in the east. The strong come out on top. Bakugou Katsuki rockets through life like a comet and Midoriya Izuku stumbles after. If he believed in such things Katsuki would say it was written in the stars. That some god of war had looked at him and said this one. That he’d been passed along a line to get his blessings – genius, willpower, fearless ambition – and dropped off on earth.

Then, of course, there is the question of Deku. The spitfire runt. Deku, no matter what the world does to him, never stops hoping.

Until, of course, he eventually does.

(Katsuki broke him. Snapped him in half like a twig and now has to scramble to put Deku back together. “We can do this, Deku," he says slowly. "There are so many mysteries that never got put to bed. Criminals roaming around looking to hurt people and you and me, we can fix that.”

There’s a long pause. The comforter slips a little off Deku’s skinny shoulders and drowns him. “You mean like a team?”

In that split second, Katsuki makes a decision he’s never even considered. He swallows his pride. “Yeah, Deku. We’d be a team.”)

(If there was any other way canon could've gone, this is the story I would've wanted. It's perfect.)

Inadvertent Wilderness Therapy by Cacid

Following an unfortunate encounter with a teleporter on the last day of internships, Bakugou Katsuki and Hakamata Tsunagu spend some quality time in northern Canada.

In no particular order they will: build ugly survival shelters, stalk rabbits, run from polar bears, reflect on the chemical composition of trees, insult each other, and complain about krumholtz.

(THESE TWO. TOGETHER. IN THE WILDERNESS. IN FUCKING CANADA OF ALL PLACES. I still can't believe this fic actually exists and just how INVESTED I became in their relationship. Blue Jeanist instantly became my favorite ranked hero with this fic alone. HIS SENSE OF HUMOR IS TERRIBLE, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH FNIEWOPAF. BAKUGOU DOES TOO. IT'S FUCKING INCREDIBLE. *incoherent screeching into the wild*)

[Stranger Things]

Baci D'aria by RabbitDarling

“Love is worth the sum of itself, and nothing more.” ― Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic

Steve learned a lot at his Aunt's side before she passed but his favourite thing she taught him was baci d'aria; special little spells that you created from the heart and put into the food you shared.

In opening his heart and gifts to those around him Steve slowly finds himself a family in a way he never thought he'd get to experience. One by One he collects pre-teens to trail in his wake like ducklings and Steve can't even refute it by the time he realizes what has happened.

(This fic is so soft and Steve is just collecting people and winning them over with his magical food (literally). I am always a sucker for heartwarming, good for the soul fics so if you want to make yourself hungry and feel all warm and gooey inside, read this!)

(Don't Fear) The Reaper by TeaFourTwo

Ship: Steve/Billy

He looks down at the blood on his hands and on the floor and wonders why the memory hasn’t broken yet, why he isn’t back in Starcourt mall with control of his body again, wonders if he's even still alive at all. Is this hell then? Or perhaps purgatory? It certainly isn’t heaven, that’s for sure. None of this makes any sense…but then what's new—nothing in Billy’s life makes sense anymore.

Billy laughs then, loud and long and unhinged. It's the only sound in the whole house, and it bounces off the walls like a fucked up echo, like the world is laughing with him.

“Jesus christ you’re insane…” It’s Max’s voice and it’s shaking. It only makes Billy laugh harder, because Max has it all wrong. Billy isn’t crazy, it’s the rest of the world that’s insane.

Billy dies a hero of sorts. He wakes up back in his bed on Saturday morning, the third of November, 1984...nearly nine months earlier.

(Billy is stuck in a time loop and it's slowly driving him crazy. And the fic shows just how much influence Billy did have in the plot and how doomed the world is without him in it. Great character exploration with Billy's character and all the ways he's so messy and human. Definitely recommend it!)

[Knives Out]

The Road Less Traveled By by UisceOneLove

Ship: Marta/Ransom

If Harlan wants to leave Ransom to be on his own, fine. He'll show him just what Ransom Drysdale is capable of.

or, where Ransom chooses to prove his abilities through means of the non-homicidal variety and finds himself becoming exactly what Harlan was hoping he would.

(I found this fic out of sheer chance and god, Ransom is just, so fascinating to me as a character. Marta of course is the Best here and I will forever stan her. Seriously, this is such a good fic! Please read!)

[Haikyuu!!]

Sky Full of Stars by grilledsquids

The Hinatas are twins. They're practically identical.

But while Shouyou seeks out Karasuno's volleyball team to become the next Little Giant, Natsu is scouted to to play soccer for Shiratorizawa. While Shouyou sets his eyes on playing volleyball at the highest level possible, his sister wonders how much longer she can play soccer... and if it's worth it to keep going.

A Natsu-centric story featuring: Shiratorizawa VBC shenanigans, too many soccer OCs, mild teenage drama, a little bit of plot, and Semi Eita not knowing what a period is.

(It's just!! So cute and wholesome!!! The Shiratorizawa volleyball team is so fleshed out along with the OC characters for the girl's soccer team and I swear, it's been a long while since I've laughed this much at the sheer shenanigans that happen in a fic. It's surprisingly hard to find good gen fics in this fandom so finding this gem made me so happy! If you want a fic that brings a smile to your face, read this!!)

like water by speakingincode

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, and when Tooru looks at him, he can read My best friend’s an idiot off the crease of his eyebrows. “Are you telling me you spent the last three years weirdly obsessed with Kageyama – I still remember the time you made us play him on a dumb whim, you know – and now you’re at his beck and call? Are you okay? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m— I’m not at his beck and call! I said no last week. It’s… It’s like you said. I get bored easily. I saw him at the park a couple weeks after they played Nationals and called him a perfect little tyrant, and he pestered me into spending time with him after,” Tooru says. “I’m not a monster, Iwa-chan. If he wants the company of his cool, handsome ex-upperclassman that badly, who am I to begrudge him?”

Or: Oikawa doesn't know why Kageyama keeps asking to meet him on Saturdays. He also doesn't know why he keeps saying yes.

(The fact this fic is canon-compliant and covers post-canon too makes me want to shout to the heavens. Fucking incredible! One of the best Oikakage fics ever and it's a crime how it's not at the top of the ship tag. Please please read!!)

twist into your shape by kakkoweeb

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

The only thing better than sweets were sweets containing paper that told you whether your future would be good or bad--or in Kageyama and Oikawa's case, paper that somehow caused you to live inside each other's bodies.

(Everyone probably already read this fic but it needs to be said, you need to read this fic. How these two try and manage each other's lives and slowly start to care about one another is so beautiful and sincere and I am ready to wrestle anyone to the floor and comply them into reading this fic. Doesn't matter if you like the ship, you will become a fan if you read it, I promise. Please please read!!)

Take the Long Road Home by pepperfield

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

When Azumane Asahi goes missing before his engagement meeting with Kozume Kenma, what other option is there but for Daichi to impersonate his brother and fake his way through a first date with Asahi's fiance?

Okay, let's be realistic - there were probably at least four other options.

Unfortunately, Tetsurou couldn't come up with any of them either, so now he's here flirting with Kenma's future husband while trying to keep his web of deceit from collapsing.

It's going to be an eventful day.

(I got obsessed with this ship alongside Oikakage and SO WILL YOU. THE POTENTIAL. THE BANTER. THE FACT THEY'RE BOTH DORKS AND THE FIC HAS IDENTITY SHENANIGANS DANCING ALL OVER IT!! I had so much fun reading this and these two are MEANT TO BE FENIWPAF. If you don't see the potential of this ship, you will now.)

a misunderstanding a day keeps the boyfriend away by bartallen for betuls

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

Kuroo doesn’t fall in love hard and fast like many others do – he falls slowly, and very very softly. Most of the times he doesn’t even realise he’s in love with someone until it’s too late.

(Kuroo is the dumbest man alive and I've never related to someone so hard in my life. God help me.)

You like me. by roseknight

Ship: Daishou/Kuroo

Kuroo nearly lived a Daishou-free life, and sometimes he looked back and wondered how much better and how much worse that would've been.

(I didn't even know who Daishou was until I read this fic and now I can't unsee the potential this ship has. I'm a ruined woman and I regret NOTHING.)

Kings of the Road, Kings of the Universe by EzzyDean

Eight magical captains, one bus, an entire summer (and country) waiting for them.

What could possibly go wrong?

(The magic of friendship meets the magic of a summer road trip meets pure magic.)

(CAPTAIN SQUAD IS THE BEST SQUAD SOMEBODY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME SOME CAPTAIN SQUAD FICS I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS SQUAD IT'S A PROBLEM AAAAHHHHHH!)

宿縁 : See You Soon by MissKiraBlue

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

Upon arriving at the train station of death, an impure soul is granted a second chance at life against his will. Reincarnating into the body of Kageyama Tobio, a 15-year-old boy who recently committed suicide. Tobio's soul will depart at death and the soul needs to slip in to replace it. If the soul's reformation succeeds, he’ll reenter the cycle of rebirth and regain the right to be reborn. He will have three months to accomplish this task.

“Even though you had enough of life,” the soul whispered into the void of the room, “you were still afraid to hurt your hands, Tobio.”

Afraid of giving himself a scar, if he survived.

He touched his pulse and grasped life and couldn’t help but pity Kageyama Tobio.

"You wanted to die and now I’m here making you live again," he whispered into the night.

(I'm not even exaggerating when I say out of all the fics in this entire goddamn, too long list, this is the fic I'm anticipating and heart eyeing the most. It's only starting, but I already cried on chapter fucking 2, the power of this fic, holy shit. The author also wrote the hq time loop Every Tomorrows series, which I have an undying love for and am full on praying for the day it updates, so you KNOW this fic will be just as good. (Anybody who hasn't read this series, where the hell have you been?? Read it!!) Just, everything about this fic hurts me and something in my chest just aches when I read this fic. Go into it blind with an open heart and I swear to you, it's going to change your life. I'm already calling it. Seriously though, please please read!)

[Crossover]

Learning to Fly by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, Naruto

The number three hero is a walking (well, flying) contradiction in every sense of the word. This includes his teaching skills. Why had Tokoyami agreed to this internship again? Oh right. He’d thought he was actually going to learn something. …….remind him to never be so optimistic again. . . . OR, Kakashi Hatake is reincarnated as the pro hero, Hawks. Tokoyami Fumikage suffers as a result.

(The reincarnation fic I never thought I needed and it's so good!! I've never really paid attention to Tokoyami and this fic sent me headfirst into loving him. Their dynamic is so interesting and I just love how their relationship develops. Also, Kakashi trolling the poor kid made me cackle, it's great! Definitely recommend it!)

Si Vis Pacem by athenoot

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, John Wick

Everything has a price. That's what John has always known and will forever remember, even in death.

Which is pretty ironic considering his current circumstance.

Instead of a grown, scarred, weary body belonging to a man as cruel and broken as him, he's inhabiting a younger, smaller, unblemished one belonging to a child with strangely colored hair, and is living in what seems to be a superhuman society.

Well. May it never be said that John isn't a strategist. He can live with this. Maybe.

(Somewhere out there in the universe, he's certain he could hear the laughter of his enemies from beyond the grave.)

Or: John Wick is reincarnated as Midoriya Izuku. The world should probably watch its back.

(This should be one of the crackiest fics I've read in a while, but it's taken so seriously and I'm so HERE FOR THIS. John Wick being John Wick in a world of quirks and heroes is the GREATEST, honestly, he's so badass. Bakugou, I feel for you, you must be so fucking confused lol. Bakugou trying his best to be a good friend is one of the best things about this fic. Trust me, this fic will make your day, promise!)

A Girl's Mind is a Dangerous Place by clenastia

Fandoms: Naruto, Fairy Tail

Natsu wakes up in Sakura's body. It only gets worse from there. Also known as: In Which Natsu has No Idea what to do with Boobs.

(I binged this in two fucking days, I couldn't put it down. This fic reminded me why I liked fairy tail when I was younger and why Natsu is honestly such a great protagonist, god. And the fic does that thing, you know, the Thing where when two worlds collide, the characters struggle to acclimate and adapt to a completely another world with different rules and mindsets against their own. This fic is seriously one of the best when it comes to that aspect, it's incredible. I am going absolutely feral over here for this fic to update, I'm waiting in the wings, ready to pounce like a tiger, all the metaphors man. For the love of god, read this fic.)

Give me a landscape made of obstacles by Melise

Fandoms: Naruto, Natsume's Book of Friends

Kakashi Hatake isn’t who he says he is.

Because the truth is that he’s actually a youkai in disguise, a wolf spirit named Madara who stumbled across the Hatake clan during the Warring States Period. Intrigued by the shinobi he saw, he’d proposed a temporary alliance in which he would offer the clan protection in exchange for their teachings.

Decades later, Madara is surprised to find himself inadvertently summoned to Konoha by the last living member of the Hatake clan. Sakumo Hatake, who is mourning the recent deaths of his wife and stillborn child, doesn’t want to be alone anymore. So with his permission, Madara takes the place of Sakumo’s deceased son in order to watch over the last Hatake.

(Fusion in which the youkai of Natsume’s Book of Friends all exist in the Naruto world. No knowledge of Natsume’s Book of Friends required).

(Before this fic, I only had a very vague idea of what Natsume's Book of Friends was, and honestly, I still don't know much about it. But I didn't really need to know to get into this fic. I love the worldbuilding and the relationships Kakashi forms, both supernatural and mortal. I love how Kakashi's inhumane ways affect others around him, whether to stress them out or become used to the strange. You can go straight into this fic without knowing anything and absolutely still have a fantastic time. I definitely recommend this so please read!)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Naruto #Harry Potter #Boku no Hero Academia #Stranger Things #Knives Out #Haikyuu!!#Crossover #John Wick #Fairy Tail #Natsume's Book of Friends

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