#but MAN that fic as some crazy characterizations
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Hii do you know some fics where Naruto pretends to not know hinata's feeling for him
hmmm
in these two, Naruto pretends to not have feelings for Hinata, it's dark!Naruto -
"Psychosis" from "NaruHina Erotica Oneshots" by @makuro767 - Rated E, Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. There's madness in the blood of Namikaze. If the Uchiha was cursed by Hatred, then Namikaze is cursed by Love
and
"Incubus" from "NaruHina Erotica Oneshots" by Makuro767 - Rated E, High School AU, One-shot. It’s not a fairytale love story. It’s not a teenage romance. She didn’t even know if this can be considered romance.
since it's dark!Naruto, it like.....doesn't matter what Hinata feels for him. So, not exactly what you're asking for.
hmmm, you might like this funny one haha, but it's sorta the opposite?, or going both ways?:
"Dense II" from "Blue and White Eyes" by kiiam - Rated T, Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. Naruto had been called dense by many people. He was considered very, very dense.
I feel like there should be a better one than these?????? I'm sure that I've read one where Naruto's pretending to not know for the funsies...
oh, here's another dark!Naruto one where he pretends to not know Hinata:
“Insanity” by Sadistic One - Rated E for GRAPHIC MURDER, College AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. The smell of his cologne and slight musk was the first thing that caught Hyuga Hinata’s attention. She eventually found out that smell belonged to a young man named Uzumaki Naruto. Ever since that encounter, she couldn’t stop following him and watching his every move. She needed to know who he hanged out with, his hobbies likes and dislikes. She even transferred to his school to study him more closely. But as those months went on, she discovered Naruto was not who he portrayed to be to his peers, but a cold-blooded murderer. Is this enough to put a stop to Hinata’s obsession or will it draw her closer to her own insanity?
wait, here's another dark!Naruto that pretends to not know Hinata's feelings:
“October - Horror” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. When despair turns into a feeling of love so intense that obsession is the only thing that can help you protect the one you love.
okay, so 4 dark!Naruto fanfic recommendations and only 1 somewhat normally characterized fanfic. I guess Naruto pretending not to know Hinata's feelings is only something a crazy Naruto would do lol
If anyone thinks of others, please add on!!!!!
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25 23 and 13 for choose violence game? :)
ship you've unwillingly come around to?
Honestly I don’t think I really have any for LiS… my ships have been pretty consistent ever since I played the game for the first time. I’d probably have to go with Victoria/Warren only because I read a fic with them as a side couple and it worked surprisingly well. I can’t said I ship it that hard tho
common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing
Anything related to LiS 2. Just literally anything. I’m really tried of complaints about how people should like it more/ the only reason people wouldn’t play it is racism (despite the host of problems people had with it )
worst blorboficiation
Max gets blorboficiation a whole lot, as she ends up either being way softer or way harder than canon. It usually depends on if they think Chloe should be the bad ass or not. I love bad ass Max as much as the next person but she isn’t a time controlling assassin.
But the WORST is by far David. Far too many fics don’t want to get into that mess and just kinda leave him around the edges of their fics and while I understand that (as I do think David is a character can be decent if handled very very carefully) it does get on my nerves when he’s giving Chloe really good Christmas gifts out of the blue or is Chloe’s generic cop step dad.
Wait: and also Joyce. She’s always the suffering sweet southern mom and it bugs the hell out of me that Chloe never gets to make the incredibly valid point that Joyce is dating a dude that literally hits Chloe. Like he does that in canon and no one seems to place much blame on Joyce despite that she completely ignores how bad David is until it affects her own privacy.
#life is strange#listen I love escaping the light as much as the next person#but MAN that fic as some crazy characterizations#I am once again complaining about David and Joyce
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Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization
The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.
If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:
Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.
Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like:
"She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay????
"Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.
It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.
Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue.
But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.
#Dungeon meshi#Ask#Spoilers#dungeon meshi manga spoilers#Marcille donato#chilchuck tims#Marchil#You me the parking lot after i finish and post my arc analysis#Sobbing……… we’re 20 over here in the rarepair pit come on. Like do u not see how obsessed i am. Do u think they like. Mean nothing to me#Do u think it’s all incidental and i slipped and the 10 thousands of words I write for them had no thought or feelings behind them or#Their arc is so beautifuuuuul they come to see each other and her standards become more real while he allows hope and openness#Into his heart again 😭😭 not the way two of their scenes lowkey read as a proposal…#Anyways I hope this makes it clear I’ll fight to my dying breath for them.#I don’t want trouble and i imagine you don’t either so just don’t come shitting on my doorstep#In positive news my fic Grind Me Down Sweetly recently reached 100 likes and 1k hits <3 it can also be read as just platonic so if you like#Them as a duo even as friends give it a shot#Every time I see someone shitting on marchil I start making marchil content faster btw#Not art
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get a little action in | miguel o'hara
Summary: Spider-Man doesn't like you. And for the record? You're not crazy about him either. But you kind of wish you could see his eyes when he swings you across the city. For curiosity's sake.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader (some Spanish language is female-gendered, but other than that, no gendered descriptions.)
Word count: 2.2k
Content desc: rivals, superhero!reader (kinda - they're trying their best). miguel's a bit of a jerk ngl but he's a SEXY jerk <3 very enemies to lovers coded. swapped insults, injuries, and a whole lot of charged flirting. (lyla thinks they're adorable.)
A/N: i actually think this fic is the closest i've gotten to miguel's canon personality compared to my previous (delusional) characterizations of him lol. hope you guys like this one! as always, i appreciate corrections to the Spanish if needed, but it's no one's responsibility to do so!
Translations:
¡Chingada madre! - Motherfucker!
¡Pinche pendeja! - Fucking asshole!
¡No mames! Eres una idiota. - I don't believe this! You're an idiot.
¡Cállate, por Dios! - Shut up, oh my God!
¡Ay, coño! ¿Qué demonios haces? - Oh, fuck! What the hell are you doing?
¿Qué? ¿Qué quieres? - What? What do you want?
¿Estás loca? ¿De dónde sacas esas ideas? - Are you crazy? Where do you get these ideas?
No seas estúpida. - Don't be stupid.
Porque tu haces un desmadre. Eres un dolor en el culo. - Because you make a mess. You're a pain in the ass.
Ve. - Go.
follow @sanguine-marvel for all future miguel fic notifications!
“All units be advised: 10-33 on 10th and Palisade. Suspect is known as “Captain Darkness.” Approach with caution.”
You shove the police scanner into your bag and stash it in the alley by your apartment. You’re close to 10th and Palisade, and the cops have lost Nueva York’s newest supervillain, Captain Darkness, three times already. For all the mocking headlines the press write about him, he sure seems to be the one laughing every time.
You pull your mask over your face as you make your way to the abandoned factory on 10th and Palisade. It looks normal from the outside, but the code means there’s been an explosion.
Probably best to enter through the back.
It’s dark, because supervillains like to nail the atmosphere, and that means there’s no budget for lighting. The factory smells damp, moldy. You hope you don’t get sick. Vigilantism doesn’t come with health insurance.
You stay close to the wall, ears tuned for any sounds. Usually, a good villain would have clocked your entrance by now. The fact that Captain Darkness (a stupid-ass name for a stupid-ass villain) hasn’t—
BRIIIING! BRIIIING!
Alarms blare throughout the factory. Your ears ring from the volume.
Okay. Maybe you’ve underestimated him.
You run; stealth doesn’t matter now, only speed. Captain Darkness is, predictably, at the center of the factory. He has all the typical workings of a mad scientist: electric ball thingy, giant lie detector-looking thingy, et cetera. You go up the stairs of his platform to get closer.
Except there’s something you’ve never seen before. It sort of resembles a portal. Fuck.
Captain Darkness spots you immediately. He has giant crab legs fused to the lower half of his body, which you’d think were sick if he wasn’t such a jagoff.
“Well, hello,” he says, sneering down at you. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Are you one of the Spiderlings?”
“I’m offended by the suggestion,” you say, darting towards the electric ball first.
It looks easy enough to shut off, except the Captain blocks your path immediately. He knocks you across the platform. You cough at the impact. The concrete bruises your right temple.
“Alright, that’s it.” You grunt, pushing yourself up. “Now I’m gonna kick your ass for real.”
The Captain laughs. “By all means, hit me with your best shot.”
So you do. You manage to knock him backwards, his clunky crab legs sliding on the platform. You take the opening and shut off one machine, which causes a crackle of electricity in the air. The hair on your arms rises.
But being a mad crab scientist apparently means you have a lot of time on your hands, and Captain Darkness whips out what looks like a ray gun. He blasts you and knocks you off the platform. You hit your ribs hard, and your vision blurs for a second.
The portal begins to whir, warming up. Captain Darkness towers over you, grinning maniacally.
“Your efforts are adorable, but I suggest you find another line of work. No one will stop me from opening a portal. Once I venture to other worlds, I’ll be unstoppable. This world will be mine! Finally, everyone who ever—”
“Oh my God,” you groan, clutching your ribs. “Please don’t start monologuing. Do you know how cliche you sound right now? Blah blah blah, your parents didn’t give you enough attention so you’re insecure and power-hungry. Do I look like Dr. Phil to you?”
His eyes flash and one crab leg grabs a nearby tool cart.
“You’re no longer amusing me,” he says. "Goodbye."
The tool cart is flung in your direction, and you roll, covering your head and bracing for the worst. But the crash never comes. You look to see several orange webs wrapped around the cart. The cart flies backwards and hits Captain Darkness right in his face.
Miguel O’Hara lands on the railing of the platform, perched gracefully. He doesn’t waste a second in going after the Captain.
“Oh, where did you even come from?” you shout, pushing yourself to stand. “I have it handled!”
“I’m not dignifying that with a response,” Miguel growls as he easily dodges the Captain’s grasp.
He swings to the other side, aiming for the portal which has now fired up.
Perfect. Damn it, it should be you that J. Jonah Jameson will scream about on the news tomorrow morning, not Spider-Dorito.
You force yourself to get up so you can try to apprehend the Captain. But he has other plans; one of the machines sparks, and suddenly, hundreds of flying crab-shaped robots pour out of the mouth of the portal. Miguel shouts orders to Lyla.
You’re only interested in one thing: taking down Captain frickin’ Darkness. So you go after him, leaving the factory. Unfortunately, the crab-bots take that as an invitation to leave too, zeroed in on your destruction. Your ribs are killing you, and whatever the Captain blasted you with left a nasty gash on your hip.
Still, you limp and pant through the pain. You’re not letting this guy get away a fourth time. No way. Captain Darkness has been a thorn in Nueva York’s side for several weeks now and you’ve been tracking him for just as long. You need to get him.
“¡Chingada madre!”
You glance over your shoulder and see a flash of blue and red. Miguel is right behind you, fighting through the cluster of crab-bots. The sight makes your blood boil.
“Fuck off!” you wheeze out. “He’s mine, O’Hara!”
“If you hadn’t stumbled in and screwed everything up, we wouldn’t even be in this situation right now!” he snarls. “¡Pinche pendeja!”
Fucking Spider-Man. It’s because of him that Nueva York doesn’t even know who you are. Every time you get remotely close to taking down a criminal, Miguel swoops in and saves the day. Not without giving you grief, of course. You’re too weak, too disorganized, too slow—you’re too wrong, according to him. He’s told you multiple times to stay away, but hey, he should know by now you’re also too stubborn to listen.
You pull your hand away from your rib. It’s tacky with blood. You’re slowing down, too; you aren’t enhanced like a hero is supposed to be, and after going two rounds with Captain Crabcake, it seems you’re about to meet your untimely fate with killer crustacean robots.
You really should’ve become a lawyer like your mother wanted.
“¡No mames! Eres una idiota.”
You feel Miguel’s breath on your neck before his arm curls around your waist. You cry indignantly but he doesn’t let go, heaving you into his grip and continuing to run.
“Let go of me!” you demand, wiggling in his grip.
“Shut up.”
“I don’t need you to save me,” you snap.
He looks down at you, red masked eyes burning into you.
“No? ‘Cause every time you screw up, I’m the one fixing your mess. How many times have I told you to go home?”
“I had it under control,” you say.
Miguel doesn’t even look at you. Your injuries are jostled with every step and you have to fight to not whine in pain. But you don’t try to squirm away again. You’re no match for his strength, and, unfortunately, he’s a lot faster than you. If you want to live, Miguel’s your ride.
“Lyla, find me a route.”
Lyla pops up on Miguel’s other shoulder. She leers at you, raising her eyebrows.
“Am I interrupting something?” she asks.
“Lyla. Route, now.”
“Alright, alright,” she says, sounding far too smug. “Might I suggest going airborne?”
Your fingers dig into Miguel’s giant shoulder as he flings a web string at a nearby fire escape. He shifts you to one arm. Your eyes pop out of your head.
“No, wait, I have a terrible fear of—”
He doesn’t wait, the asshole, and you scream as he pulls both of you up. Now you’re bleeding, clinging to the worst person in the world, and at least two hundred feet off the ground. Somehow, killer crab-bots would’ve been better.
“¡Cállate, por Dios!” he shouts, jerking his head away from you. “Unless you want me to drop you.”
“I’m gonna kill you, O’Hara,” you say, closing your eyes. “I’m gonna—oh, God.” You swallow hard, feeling dizzy. “I think I’m gonna hurl.”
“Do not throw up on me.”
You peek over his shoulder, trying not to watch the buildings blur by. That’s when you spot the army of robots behind you. And they look mad.
“Shit, shit!” you hiss, jolted out of your nausea.
You reach down Miguel’s broad back, feeling for the nifty little gadgets you know he keeps on him.
“¡Ay, coño! ¿Qué demonios haces?”
He swats at your wandering hands. You smack him back.
“I’m trying to save us, if you don’t mind!”
“Do not touch anything—” he starts.
A bot whizzes by, firing at you both. Miguel wobbles on the next swing, trying to fight off the bot.
“Lyla, three o’clock!” you yell.
Tiny rockets fire from Miguel’s suit, taking out several bots. There’s too many, though; you need another plan.
“Lyla, run diagnostics on the bots,” you say, grunting as Miguel swings sharply around a corner.
“Lyla, don’t do anything I don’t tell you to,” Miguel says. “She’s not yours to—”
“Water,” Lyla interrupts, understanding where your brain is. “They malfunction in water.”
“Huh. That’s ironic.”
Ahead, the waterfront is quickly coming into view. You pinch Miguel’s shoulder. He hisses, his suit’s eyes narrowing at you.
“¿Qué? ¿Qué quieres?”
“The Hudson,” you say.
“I can’t just dive into the river, we’ll both—”
“Use me as bait,” you say.
“¿Estás loca? ¿De dónde sacas esas ideas?”
“I pull them out of my butt,” you say, rolling your eyes.
“You couldn’t even destroy the portal,” he says scathingly. “I’m not throwing you into the river, tempting as that is.”
“You don’t have a better idea, smartass. And unless you want them tearing up Manhattan, you’ll do it.”
“No seas estúpida,” he says.
“Can’t help it. It’s one of my superpowers.”
Miguel lands on a rooftop. He drops you none too carefully, and you land hard on your butt. You grunt, the movement squishing your injury.
“Lyla,” Miguel says.
“Yup,” she says, popping up on your shoulder and scanning your body. “Bruised ribs, and a gash right on top. If you wrap it, they’ll be fine.”
Miguel takes out a bandage and tears the top off. You’ve seen them before; they’re of his own creation, and used widely by his Spider Society. Never on civilians, which is what you are, according to him.
He crouches and shoves your suit up, then wraps the bandage around your stomach. The wrapping begins to expand and you feel the sting of cold gel. He yanks your suit back down without a word.
“I’m sure my ribs are broken,” you say through a wheezy exhale.
“Nope! Just bruised. You really shouldn’t fall from those kinds of heights,” Lyla says cheerily.
“Yeah, you were definitely programmed by him,” you mutter.
You start to get up.
“Don’t even think about it,” Miguel says.
“Screw you.”
“You living here screws me enough.”
“I don’t need your help! Why can’t you stay in your own damn lane, O’Hara?”
“Porque tu haces un desmadre. Eres un dolor en el culo.”
“The feeling is mutual,” you say through gritted teeth. “And you can’t stop me from going after him.”
His suit’s eyes narrow. Quick as anything, he flings two webs over your wrists. You squawk, now glued to the pavement.
“This is illegal!” you screech, twisting your wrists. “Let me go!”
“Stay out of my way,” Miguel says. “I won’t save your ass next time.”
You glare up at him, still breathing hard. It only makes you angrier that Miguel hasn’t broken a sweat.
“I hope those bots tear up the Spider Society!” you say. “I hope—I hope your suit malfunctions and the whole city sees your ass.”
Miguel pauses, and turns around.
“Uh, Miguel?” Lyla asks. “The murder robots? Kinda urgent.”
“Tell Jess to go downtown and cut them off there.”
“But—”
“Ve.”
He stands over you. You fling your legs up, trying to get a kick in, but he quickly puts a stop to that, resting a heavy foot on both of your ankles.
Miguel bends down. You burn with curiosity about how he looks under the mask. It’s twisted of you to wonder, considering what an arrogant jerk he is. You could fill several encyclopedias with Miguel O’Hara’s worst traits.
Still, you wonder. You wonder what color his eyes are. If his hair is short or long. If he smiles at all. His expression when you get under his skin.
You’d learned his real name by accident. Whether he knows your identity or not, you don’t know. You wonder if he has to stop himself from saying your name.
“You’re lucky I don’t web that dirty mouth of yours,” Miguel says, his face inches from yours. “I’ve been considering it.”
You lift your chin.
“You think about my mouth a lot, O’Hara?”
He jerks back, like you’ve startled him. He stands, turning around.
“Don’t let me see you out here again,” he says.
“Wait!” you cry. “What about the webs?!”
Miguel shoots a web towards the street.
“What about them? You don’t need my help, remember?”
Then he’s gone.
Fucking Spider-Man.
#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara fic#enemies to lovers#rivals to lovers#across the spiderverse x you#across the spiderverse fanfiction#across the spiderverse#atsv x reader#atsv fanfiction#spiderman x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman fanfiction
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all and half pt. i
in which your fate intended is the one person you can achieve true pleasure from
pairing: modern au! alhaitham x fem! reader, minor kaveh
wc: 10k+ (i wrote over 70k+ words for genshin alone last year, that's crazy talk)
rating: mature 18+
a/n: so we have two people to thank for this. 1. @mystic-sky rescued my sanity with this fic. i always worry about characterization and plot sense. she's actually the culprit who got me into genshin so really it all started with her. and she made me tear up a bit so here we are. 2. you guessed it, @mediocrityexpert who never failed to mention this man at all opportunities with pictures included until i became the simp you see now. this fic is meant to be her wish banner charm! hope this story brings as much joy as his homecoming
you had a plan.
a simple and easy one-step outline that was meant to be fool-proof for a lifetime.
avoid your fate intended and you wouldn’t have any problems
the idea of connecting with another living being on a level of complexity assisted by the archons would be thought to be a spiritual venture. except the very gods who wrote the lining principals found more value in physical compatibility rather than soul binding merit.
it was proclaimed, since what is thought to be the beginning of teyvet, that an individual's soul would be tied to another through the carnal utopia found at the peak of an orgasm. scholars liked to believe that it was a forethought with intention to cultivate the proliferation of humanity; but you like some just inhaled a little too much meditation incense.
if you never reached true nirvana then there was nothing for you to compare it to. thus, you could go about enjoying the frivolousness of life and it's untethered freedom.
there was something to say about 'true love' when your soulmate could only be found at the peak of an orgasm. they say for those who have had sex in the past that nothing is commensurable beyond that. you don’t even have to love the person. the sex is just that good.
apparently it’s the worst for virgins—never knowing what came before and rarely having the courage to experience anything less.
the idea of soulmates was a broken concept of love. ruining stable relationships for the desire of an infallible sexual experience. to think fates were willing to reduce passion down to its most carnal physical form and bind people to it.
it was the forbidden fruit for some.
or what was left after it fell from the hands of celestia.
you weren’t in a relationship; had nothing to tie you down. but you refused to have your body hijacked by one person who could only rock your world because of erotic devine intervention.
it didn’t make you easy by any terms, just determined to always have a taste for what else the world had to offer.
there was good sex out there.
mind blowing, leg numbing sex.
and not everyone needed the most expensive cake in the shop to achieve satisfaction.
and that had been the testament of your life thus far, until today.
you were there, edging over the line you’d come to know like a second home, when it all just stopped.
the sheets shifted as the figure hovering above used his hold against your headboard to halt the progression of his hips.
“sorry, i just can’t.”
and the dessert began to crumble.
his face pinched in a way that was far from sexy, “it’s not you.”
of all the times.
“i just thought it was all myth and legend you know. it wasn’t possible for one person to hold the key to your sexual awakening, right?”
and now he was pulling out. no, no, no. you head hit the stale fluff of your pillow with a thump.
“or maybe it’s just you-.
you found flimsy satisfaction thump in the sound that came from knocking the second pillow into the blonde head of hair.
“okay, okay. not you. it was great before. but now it’s just—“
archons.
groaning into the mattress, you accepted that the mood was beyond repairable, left to simmer in the rustled sheets and sticky wetness connecting your thighs. honestly what was fate thinking ruining a perfectly good thing.
“you don’t even love them, kaveh.” you grumbled out crassly. maybe it was a little insensitive. but it was true.
he’d run into them on a whim, no more bound to you than you were him. it had only taken one night and and a short consideration to make a difference it seemed. kaveh had once he was a pessimist like you; willing to stick a middle finger to fate and find your own asylum without discovering the road paved out for you.
the two of you shared stories, marking your own sexual discoveries while exploring ones of your own. you could have married him.
maybe.
eventually, possibly, after accepting that you had unearthed all you could from your back- and other various positions.
were you selfish to deem it unfair ?
you’d taken a chance. you filtered through all the variables in an attempt to beat the odds. only to have it slapped in your face. and they even took away your orgasm with a last hoorah.
“it’s fine.”
it wasn’t.
well, you would move on. he was the best so far but there were plenty of fish in the sea it seemed as if he caught a bigger one, so to say. it wasn’t the least bit awkward as the two of you gathered your clothing, less of you as in the comfort of your own home you were comfortable in just a shirt and panties.
an old shirt of his in fact.
the last of your collection.
he has the nerve to actually look guilty at the door and you can’t bring yourself to weigh him down any further.
“hey, we were in a mission to find all the wonders of sex. be happy you get to clock out before your dick fell off.” the pat on the shoulder you give him feels lacking, but you had to stretch to get there so it wasn’t without effort.
his lips split into a small cautionary smile.
“hey, maybe yours is—“
no. nope. no evil spirits in your house.
all hospitality leaves you as you press and prod him through the door. just because he was content didn’t mean you were ready to accept the deal.
“don’t let your next orgasm send you into a coma. baby steps, kaveh.”
he laughs like you expect him too, waving you off with a wider grin as he departs, likely to slip into the bed of his dreams.
and now you were left with an absent orgasm and one less reliable partner.
great.
| ⚘⚘⚘ |
it’s funny how something so soul binding can’t even be properly taught in school. it's wholeness left for young people to discover on their own experience and limited research on the subject available to the general public. teachers spoke lightly on the topic of becoming one with another through body and soul.
the only interesting thing to come from joining the akademiya was dissertations being written as close to erotic novels.
you convinced yourself to take it easy-ier over the last few weeks since kaveh's unforeseen retreat. you were not that desperate for a good lay and fate would end up handing you want you didn’t desire if you weren’t careful. so instead of your usual nightclubs and after hour ventures, you found yourself wasting hours in lighter pubs.
maybe not completely losing time. a decent drink and sound music was as good a stress reliever as any.
relaxing into the bar seat, you manage to keep from losing your balance. the lack of back support seemed like a latent encouragement of chances of falling to the floor, but you were only two glasses in at the moment. as your fingers traced the edge of the glass in languid circles, you wonder if you should just call it a night.
it had been quite awhile since you’d let yourself wander into bars. back in your early undergrad days, it had been in the accompaniment of friends to alleviate any stress built up over the semester. it was safe to say you’d matured a little since then; or at least discover an alternative that was just as satisfying.
but then kaveh had to go and ruin that.
it was as equally frustrating to admit you were both dissatisfied with the abrupt departure as you were pleased it ended before it festered into something too entangled for you both to escape. though 'finding your soulmate ‘ route was still well outside your expectations.
nearly a year ago, your introduction to kaveh had been fortuitous. he was a graduate, senior to your status, but a frequent of the akademiya due to renovation projects. he had been a pretty face, an easy distraction when his latest construction was near the vahumana school grounds.
all it took was a pair of wandering eyes and a few smiles to strike up a conversation. after a cursory drink here and there and a night out of fun, the kindling chemistry began.
it had never been an intention for either party to make it more than that. one shot too many had kaveh confessing about his mountains of debt that put him in direct servitude to the akademiya.
and you had no desire to date either, at least not while the sages were still prickling your nerves about research. but you also were willing to admit that you were getting a little too old to be bar hopping for a night out.
kaveh fit comfortably in the midst of both criteria.
he was a reliable lay and it helped that lately it took effort to run into one another. he was always focused on a new project and you spent more time in the library than your own apartment. which was ironic, because the majority of your ‘meetings’ occurred at your place rather than his.
something about a belligerent roommate.
now he was out gallivanting in the desert in the pursuit of creative inspiration; an interesting metaphor when he was towing his newest obsession along for the ride.
but apparently that was a thing of the past as you found yourself in an establishment that was better referred to as a tavern than a bar, or at least one less frequented by akademiya students. the campus bars were always full and bursting with a cocktail of students and occasional faculty members. it was a dangerous mix of egos and alcohol.
it was why you found it worth it to venture to port ortmos on occasion to the habour tavern. the lack of boisterous music was nice, but the atmosphere was empty of intrigue. not to mention the place hardly offered a promising selection. not a favorable gift of wine, and top shelf liquor was hardly in their vocabulary, let alone supply list. you decided eventually not to waste time trying to explain the ingredient of a zaytum sunrise.
a sigh tickled you lips and your shoulders sagged an inch lower. really there were more pressing issues than laminating over bed partners. you were rapidly approaching the end of your scholarship, making you one step closer to your dissertation. which was still a prospective theory with no hardened evidence worth presenting.
it took something akin to guts to challenge the age old belief of soulmates. in sumeru, it was the equivalent of a religion and you stood as the outsider throwing rocks at the stained glass chapel.
what you believed wasn't meant to be interpurted as hate, but clashing ideology tended to paint one side as the villain in order to raise the value of the rest.
you didn’t want to topple the pedagogy, but be given the opportunity to confront it fairly. but with a theory so widely supported in droves, it was no surprise that no one took it seriously. the akademiya hadn’t even blinked when you had proposed it, not threatened in the slightest.
nor had you wanted them to be. all you wanted was to be heard and given the chance to provide a new perspective.
your mentor had been rather agreable about the matter, offering encouragement and diffusing tension in equal bouts. but they also had their concerns, more so for your future than the present.
though not insistent on deterring you, they often hinted at your growing fascination in conservation and rejuvenation of old practices to save the future. the histories of the past often held secrets for the future, they liked to say. vahumana was as proud as any house, determined to make their mark on the world and the research that gave it life.
but you liked to argue that the past also had plenty of mistakes as well, a shaky ground to dispute your soulmate theory on but one worth grasping all the same.
“maybe i should just summerise my conservation efforts,” you grumbled audibly, reluctantly tipping the ice-melted drink down the back of your throat. it was the easy way out. the more practical route with postgraduate application as well.
discussing soulmates with anyone felt too much like a religious sermon. the emotional process was part of the passion needed to drive the evidence behind the dissertation. half of the presentation was to comfort the audience of your opinion and you had plenty to say on the matter.
cutting your gaze back over your shoulder, you gradually took in the atmosphere of the tavern. it was small, likely a family owned heirloom passed down generations, a homey style that you’d seen quite a few bars back in the city try to replicate. frankly, it was dusty, cracked and you missed the appeal but it seemed popular with the quieter population. perhaps not as full tonight, but most tables were occupied by one or two patrons. sensibility correcting your wandering gaze, you reluctantly trained your eyes back forward. no need to garner anyones attention, there was hardly anyone here for that kind of late night ventures. mature men were a stark difference from akademiya students. you shudder off the imaginary thought of a stranger’s touch.
eventually you set your glass down for the last time, signalling the bartender without a word as he rounded back to check on you. in their approach you considered balancing one more round on your psyche. it’d been only been your second glass, watered down at that. you’d linger longer if need be to sober up. but archons, did you just want a glass of wine.
you parted your lips to initiate the order, the bartender not far away to request, but then his gaze was snapping beyond you. a slow tilt of familiarity formed his lips, followed by a polite wave. mannerisms encouraged you not to turn your head, but curiosity was a painful pinch. it was almost too difficult to resist. you were grateful when the bartender moved for you, not even perturbed when he bypassed you for a few seats down.
the quiet bustle was still too heavy for the distant conversation to carry. idly you twist at the mini straw floating along the melting ice as you way.
it took a few more moments for the bartender to return to you, an apology muted at his lips but you shrugged it off, sliding the glass closer. “just one more. no ice.” he gave his affirmation, the soft smile still lingering. you weren’t piqued by his brightened service. he’d been nothing but amicable to you, but it was something to take notice of.
the moment his back turned, the burning itch came back. just a peek. everyone got first looks, it wouldn't put you on the spot. you was sure it was nothing you hadn’t seen before but now you had to be certain of it, the tethers of inquisitiveness pulling at your gaze.
okay, well you definitely hadn’t seen that.
he was certainly something to observe. the first thing that caught your attention was his musculature, mainly the girth of his arms that were propped against the bar as unaware of the potential interest they could draw. not to say it was the first time you had been impressed, but he was filled out in a way that tore a page out of a different volume. you had grown use to the leaner builds at the akademiya.
but it wasn’t just his build, his presence alone took up so much space it was already hard enough to miss him without that silver threaded hair. he held an air of authority that felt strangely familiar yet foreign in the port.
the click of glass against the counter brought heat to your cheeks as you were caught, your head whipping back to attention. “thank you,” but he was already gone, moving on to the next attendant.
you filtered through a quiet breath, pretending to be engaged by your phone with spotty service. at this point you were nearing an issue you weren’t ready to admit to at such an early stage. while you were comfortable in saying you could go quite a while without kaveh, the eccentric architecture; kavrh jr’s absence was starting to have some drawbacks.
to think the bastard was possibly warming someone else’s bed while you refrained from tempting your own. what you refused to believe was that it was the best time of his life. you brought that man closet to the archons than anyone could.
yet here you were siting alone in a tavern nearly undressing a stranger after hardly a few weeks of no intimacy. what were you thinking even considering the idea? the bartender floated neatly around him but aside from that he hardly gave the impression of being approachable.
archons ... and weren’t you just imagining how uncomfortable it would be to be approached by someone from this bar. but technically weren’t you one encroaching now? had this been just another city establishment, for one you’d have some proper wine. but at the very least you’d usually just talk. if the receiving end didn’t like it, then oh well, you weren’t circling them like they were the sun.
so he wouldn’t be any different.
besides, if you didn't say anything now you’d be running scenarios of this moment until you really did go insane. you dreaded the thought already.
you were slightly attracted to him- okay, pretty attracted. and you were still a young adult, it was the season of flings and one offs. surviving your final year at the akademiya thrived a little excitement. cutting your eyes sideways, you recalculated your chances. maybe he-
“if you have something to say, say it. your flittering is just as distracting.”
if warmth described you before, flames were dancing beneath your skin now. the man wasn’t discreet in the slightest, not caring who listen to the exchange. or maybe he was speaking to someone else- oh no, he was looking at you and he was not very intrigued. for a pause you were caught by a churring sea of turquoise.
you stumbled over deliberation shortly before a new emotion countered the transition. weren’t you just accepting cutting losses? if he was lacking interest then what was the point.
against your internal will, your lips pulled into a scowl at the potent irritated disinterest in his voice. “yes, because i’m sure it’s me that’s distracting”
well, that was not exactly how you intended to start this whole scenerio. playing hard to get was already a slippery slope and your face of indifference was faltering. you could see it mirroring back from the look of reflection on his face. or maybe that was just him contemplating the consequences of just leaving. or maybe he was truly in with the owner enough to kick you out.
for another moment it looked like he might just, and then something shifted. he reached for his glass again, the amber colour much like your own but in a higher volume. the amount of his intake challenged yours as well, or so you would have noticed if you hadn’t been so entranced by the movement of his adam’s apple.
“-students.”
what?
you caught the tail end of fostering chagrin but you knew you were rapidly eating up his reserves for patience. really, he could have just been here to relax, not get harassed by some akademiya scholar.
the man stared at you for a second longer, then scoffed. “apparently the standards have dropped. what school are you from?”
“i…” you trail off, feeling a little nonplussed by the implied merit. “vahumana.”
he hums, a sound audibly dry with scrutiny. “the study of history and the past of our predecessors. fitting to dig into the business of others as you cant seem to mind your own.”
you narrowed your eyes at him,” and you must have been haravatat.”
he huffed in amusement and reached for his glass, the rim tips against the tilt of his lips. he didn't diffuse your assumption. “why's that?”
“because only you would be so far up our asses to know what business we were sticking into.”
there was a smile, but the tone was serious. “cute. what year?”
“final.”
“good. any longer and you might have become unbearable.”
you shot him a look of rebuke,”those same standards would imply that you got kicked out.”
“aw, its adorable that you think we’re held at the same degree,” he said. “i’m afraid i simply out grew their expectations.”
you scoffed. he was so stupidly cocky. “uh huh.” you prepared to turn away when he chirped back, amusement bleeding into the heart of his motive.
“done biting already? didn’t think you would bend to authority so quickly. but i suppose akademiya students know when to fall in line.”
you shot him a chiding look. he came across as tall but the way his torso seemed to stretch even seated. it would have been impressive enough without the additional bulk that added an unfair amount of definition to his clothing—attire that had speckles of familiarity in both its design and colour scheme.
“you work for the akedmiya.”
he watches you silently. allowing you to work through the calculations. he obviously wasn't a teacher, you would have at the very least heard of him by now especially since he was confirmed haravatat. he had maybe a year or two on you, just enough to be an established graduate.
looking back now, he did look a bit distinguished. the fine details of his clothing hinted equally at quality and prestige. though the material was tighter to form than usual robes, but you would admit it had it's own unique sense of flair. still it didn't give the full answer you were looking for.
“that’s all you can differ? disappointing.”
“if i’m so unsatisfying, why bother holding a conversation?”
he gives you a look over and you realise you weren't the only one noticing a few things. he was just more subtle.
“with your mouth closed, you’re mildly appealing.”
you could barely resist the roll of your eyes. “funny, most men would say they might prefer it wide open.”
“you must have a lot of soulmates with that kind of confidence.”
this time the effort was for naught as you turn away.
“oh, sore topic?”
his voice carried despite the action, a touch more smug.
“well i’m assuming your odds of not finding your true partner are promising enough.”
surprised into reacting, you twist your body in his direction. it was an odd choice of words given the subject. it almost felt as though he were implying something.
“i have your interest then?”
the intrigued man angled his body towards you leaving you no room to misinterpret his attention. “we both agree that there is physical attraction. and though i doubt i need more points, the likelihood of us discovering the epitome of pleasure is a low possibility.” the offer is so blunt as he roves you over with calculating appreciation, but those eyes… that blue-green fire-
don’t find that arousing. he’s being a dick.
feeling a bit unsettled by your desire, you averted your eyes briefly before raising them back to his handsome face. you had never once considered yourself weak, the spirit alone strong enough to challenge the akademiya worth its weight in mora.
pure stubbornness was your greatest defence against a lot of things.
but temptation was a trial fought time and time again.
he read your resolve like an open book and finished his drink in an impressive swallow before rising to his feet. he waved down the bartender with a quick hand and then put down a few notes of mora with the other. he walked with intent, hardly harbouring an inch of reprieve in any direction. whatever he was, this was his hunting grounds and he set his sights on you.
your mouth was dry, glass still untouched as you visibly shuddered under his shadow, “i’m not some easy student-”
archon be willed, you denied yourself the privilege of running your sight down the length of his arm as it benched securely between you body and the bar. there was a smart smirk on his face that you hadn’t witnessed yet, a challenge that you’d be dragged through whether you wanted to or not. “no, you’re just spun too tight and could benefit from new lesson.”
you parted your lips to rebuttal but he silenced you with a hum. “i’m not going to play the role of some authoritative figure you desperately need. you can either come along or play games with someone else.”
a streak of heat crackled along your nerves at the rawness of his words. to be honest, he looked absolutely done with your presence but there was a primal edge of something you couldn’t place rooting him there. whatever drug him down to this bar was still devouring away at him, tightening his defences to the peak of stress.
yeah, you bet he could use a stress reliever alight.
your eyes slipped close as a low groan escaped you.
| ⚘⚘⚘ |
it had taken you an embarrassingly small amount of seconds to fork over common sense as you hastily scrambled to procure payment, only to have your attempts overrun by another careless slip of a few bills to cover much more than you had spent that night. it was no wonder he was so popular here.
he didn’t just walk like he owned the place, it certainly seemed like it as he guided you out of the door with a firm hand at the small of your back. not one pair of eyes crossed your paths and from the corner of your own you witnessed the bartender already moving to clear your spot.
a minute later, you were outside in the slight chill of the nighttime air. but where you were expecting the man to hail a car, instead urged you along the cobble-stone path.
“you live in port ortmos?”
“is that a problem?”
“i just …”
he lifted his chin slightly, “expected me to live in sumeru city? no, i stay there enough for work.”
you hum thoughtfully at the new information,“so that’s why the bartender was so familiar.”
“or maybe he just likes me.”
“or maybe he just likes your money.”
“why are you so sure that i have money?”
it takes effort not to mention the cash he’d tossed so carelessly onto the table top. there could have been one too many stuck to gether, but he had not even paused to check. instead you gesture marginally to the fine clothing stretching over the girth of his arm.
“well at least i know you're only after my body.”
“it's certainly not your personality,” you respond flatly.
“you would prefer the bigger of the two.”
you click your tongue and look away, determined not to snort at the smooth jest.
the short trip ends when he taps his key fob against the entrance of a modestly built apartment complex overlooking the port.
“anyone you need to inform of your nightly ventures?" he breaks the silence as he hits the bottom for the elevator to jerk into motion.
it occurs to you with no great pleasure that he was indeed right. you had followed the man with only the speculation that he was part of the akademiya in some capacity. at least you had confidence that he hadn't drug you to some seedy part of town and as long as the bartender didn't sell you out, there would be an evidence trail.
still you shot off a quick text to a friend, letting them know of your location in the port.
“good girl.”
you scowled to which he returned the gesture with a broad smile.
fortunately, the elevator door opened before anything more could spark. he stepped out first, leading you four doors down before unlocking it and flickering on the first light available. he waved you in with a nod of the head.
if he was a secret murderer, he was one with good tastes. from the entrance, the home opened up into a modern looking living room with panel windows hanging high above the quiet streets. to the right, an impressive kitchen held more appliances than you even knew what to do with. you assumed the final hallways led down towards the bedroom and other accessory rooms. overall, it was quality living. something to dream of after finally graduating from the akademiya. yet it still did not offer anything more of his position.
overly curious, you ask, “what is it you do again?”
he smiles, all mischief, “i’m just a feeble scholar.”
the man expects your scoff, lip curling higher as he vaguely gestures to the darkened kitchen,“i’d offer you a drink, but then i’d have to cut the night short. i don't sleep with drunks.”
you shrugged off your jacket, folding it over before lying it on the couch. “i’m not a lightweight.”
he tucked his free hand into his pocket, “but you’re in my home. house rules for guests i’m afraid.”
his shoes echo off the floors as he walked towards you, teasing closeness until you stepped back in turn. a second later, you were backed against the wall connecting the kitchen to the hall.
you swallowed hard to control the nerves flaring under your skin. it was infectious with the way his eyes travelled slowly from your eyes to your lips. he was shameless, continuing down past your collor bone to the subtle swell of your breast until the weight of his gaze dampened your breaths.
eagerly, you arched your spine,” how else do you treat your guests?”
his eyes retuned to your face,” i suppose you’ve earned that much.” he shuffled closer and trailed his thumb along your jawline, then leaned in and kissed you. his other hand came up to cradle the other side of your face as his lips tugged gently at yours before coaxing them apart.
then his tongue slips into your mouth and you whimper. its an embarrassing sound that pulls a reaction from him as he breaks the kiss.
he’d never been close enough before to take in the spicy smell of his person, an additional spritz of expense. something about it burned your nose from this proximity, like he was activating too many of your other senses to not notice. his hands were hot and heavy as they groped at your body, following the curve of your hips and testing the weight of your breast.
his tongue lapped at your neck, each action only a span of minutes already accumulating a pool at your core.
you just wanted to kiss him again but he seemed to conveniently remain out of reach. to test it, you craned your neck again only to have him counter by nipping at your ear.
“did you come to that place just to get laid, sweetness?”
you were beginning to edge away from the dry tone of his voice but he had yet to be proven innocent from the other assumptions. blood finally returned to your hands, rendering you with the ability to move as you grappled at his own body, lavishing in the not so hidden display of muscle. “did it look like it?,” you eventually responded back.
that earned you another nip, obviously not the answer he was looking for. it wasn’t a gentle one either. the sharp bite of it was still echoing through your nerves and ripping a yelp of arousal from your lips.
“i just wanted a drink.”
he bit you again.
you quickly wailed out the truth of the matter, a short sentence about your growing frustration before waiting for another reprimand but the firm pressure of lips responded instead and you sagged into the warmth of it. you dared to ask the same of him but you doubt you had enough strength behind your teeth to get him to comply.
his pace was ruthlessly, hands sliding and discarding clothing, certainly not interested in prolonging the moment.
“you’re going to miss that attitude when i’m done with you.”
the weight of his words should not have produced the reaction that it did. but god did it make you so wet. this man would probably fuck anything. and everything would let him fuck them.
you’re grappling on to his bicep, meaty muscle probably tenderised from long hours at a pricey gym. he loops one of your legs around his waist, leaving the other standing to allow more room for himself. his fingers are dry when they first touch you, though not for long as they absorb the slickness your body throws at him wantonly. a thumb tweaks your numb and your breath hitches into a pant as he curls two thick fingers into you without warning.
his face remains refined but his touch is explorative, teasing the spongy walls as he stretches them to their limitations. “unexpected debut but not a bad way to end the night.”
you wished his words would have less of an effect on you, the dichotomy of them and his touch making you out to be a blushing virgin.
and he keeps talking.
“akademiya girl, huh? bet you think you’re so smart. “
you keen lowly as he introduces a third fingering, forgoing rudimentary scissoring to just plunge them into your depths. you arch against his hold bucking with no ground to stand on. his hitches your leg higher as a reminder, threatening your barely there balance.
“look at you, all spread out for me. i said what five words to you? did they not teach you manners? a lot has changed.” he presses with the intent of stretching limitations, and you’re grateful for the debauched ministrations. science and biology taught you more than enough about anatomical proportionality.
“no resistance. you’d let me fuck you for less wouldn’t you? ” but with the way words just kept off his tongue without preamble, you were nearing certainty that he’d ride the glide of your channel without much resistance.
he works a hand up the loose material of your shirt, sending your bra into disarray as he tweaks a nipple sharply. the pain is acute, shuddering through your body like a ripple. your groan rolls into a soft hiss as he does it again, enunciating the action with words.
“i asked you a question.”
the pressure returns and your body squirms. it's enough to plunk the strings of obediency as your mouth is quick to answer.
“yes!”
his fingers rip from you, cutting the strings of your impending release and you hear the tell tale signs of a belt jingle. the material of his pants shifts, but unlike you they never leave his hips.
“fuck.” he frees himself, af the musk of him permeates the air. it’s almost intoxicating, urging you too look but you fight the urge. “i knew it. you came to that tavern looking for someone to bit that edge off.”
you don’t have to, because he’s pressing into you thick and hard and your walls flutter around him. with efficiency, he hitched your last standing leg up as well, leaving you suspended at his mercy. “good thing i came in, i bet you were getting unbearable to your little friends.”
the wall reverberates against the knocking of your body, the offbeat staccato telling any nosey neighbours all they need to know. that's if they weren’t already use to the frequency of overnight guests.
“just needed a few pumps to set you right. “
you tilt your head back and his immediate reaction is to latch back onto your neck, no doubt intending to bruise you both physically and mentally. he’s not immune to his own sounds, grunting through explications with each thrust. archons, it’s so hot, feeling the weight of him dragging over the wet hole, soon to be coined as a delicious ache before the night’s end.
it’s uncertain if he drew blood, the sticky wetness of your throat a toss up between the possibility and perspiration.
his name. you need to know his name. desperate to whine it, cry for it, tattoo it onto your tongue. you ask as much of it without realising.
-haitham.
you’re supposed to learn of it so soon but don’t disappoint the expectation following the admission.
“my name is alhaitham.” his name rolls off fluidly and you bite down to savour it before it’s gone.
your head rolls back against the wall, mouth parted for air as your eyes squeeze shut. your breast rise and fall with each hurried breath as alhaitham pins his focus on the thrum and the heat of your clit.
he’s back at your throat, nosing against the constrictions as your voice strains high and desperate.it was dominating, overwhelming, and even though you could accept that you enjoyed it, you still couldn’t understand why. domineering had it’s attractive qualities, sure, but it was arguably a delicate matter. one that took a fine tuned perspective to account for any aversions and hone in on the pointes of gratification.
and he knew.
“you looked so pretty at the bar. i’m almost grateful you were so nosy. now you look even more gorgeous. pinned against my wall like a painting.”
a shower of sparks rain down over you and cracks open the door to the flash of lights stippling the dark behind your eyes. you rock yourself forward until it becomes clear that you’re fucking yourself on his fingers until theirs both slick and resplendent with your essence.
it should be the end, the cut off of your journey but the trip feels like it's leagues long until the horizon breaks and you’re no longer anchored to the terrestrial spear but floating within the realm of celestia.
he removes his fingers slowly, excruciatingly so, and smears your release over your clit and skin. your nerves feel as delicate as your bones feel weightless.
you're fortunate that alhaitham is close enough to catch you as you all but collapse against the wall, feeling like someone—no your fate intended—removed all the bones in your body. cheek pressed against his chest, you inhale the scent of his skin while wondering if this was the exact feeling kaveh had. it was indescribable. like you were racing toward the end of days, on the verge of expiring by your own inability to call back the breath that alhaitham had stolen from your lungs. it's a dichotomy of wonder and fear as you come to terms with a terrifying realisation.
you want more.
alhaitham lets out a throaty hoarse sound when you bury your hands in his hair and tug at the thick base. he presses his lips harder against yours, determinedly set on devouring you with teeth and tongue if he can get away with it. in turn, you wrap your legs back around the already familiar notch at his hips and squeeze, drawing your front flush against his.
his erection remains hard and insistent. it’s enough to make you sigh happily against his mouth, arousal blooming above her navel at the promising orgasm it will provide.
“i want you,” you gasp between kisses, cupping his cheek with one hand while the other continues to pull at his hair.
alhaitham grunts again at the action and sneaks a hand down between you two to cup your wet mound. two fingers press up, spreading your spend and is immediately reward with another sweet hasp from your lips as he teases the sensitive nub.
archons, just the faintest touch of his fingers against you is enough to drag back the reminder of the shattering kaleidoscope until the only thing you can think of is him—alhaitham— with either his soul-binding fingers or his cock buried inside. you don't care if it's a repeat performance or something new, as long as you come.
the truth is so palpable between you but alhaitham has sense enough not to mention it. instead he dips as his arm slips under your knee to pull you into his arms. he walks you towards the darkened hallway where the door at the end opens into his bedroom.
alhaitham pulls at your clothes and you let him, sliding them down until you’re left with nothing and reaching for his. he follows you onto the bed, bracing himself over you. he lowered his head to kiss you, holding you still as he ravishes your mouth until you’re forced to break apart, breath haggard from the effort.
you blink blearily up at the broad shoulder hovering just by your nose as you resist the itch to squirm. the grip holding you down had lessened dramatically in the last few minutes, the weight of trust holding you still. a soft sigh tickles your lip as his forehead rolls against yours, light and nuzzling.
“you’ve finally lost some of that attitude. that is good. you’re doing so good,” his voice is less dry, holding warmth and reverence for compliance. your head tilts up to seek his lips again, craving the gentle touch and the taste of exhalation.the sharp edges of thoughts fade away, leaving only room to consume and receive. a reward comes in the tweak of thick fingers returning to your apex, twisted deep within you and curling for purchase. in return, you sigh into his mouth, pleased, as you rock into the affection.
“think you can return the favour? let me see what all the fuss is about?” his smile savours the flavour of saccharine, both appealing and intoxicating and you find yourself nodding in acceptance without cause. alhaitham knows he has you anyway- always had- you’d crawl for his mercy if just to have a a taste of the nirvana only he could give you.
he feels the motion of your nod, pressed so close,” i’d like to know what it’s like. feeling your open mouth, the sounds of your gasp as you choke on my cock. ”
his hand remains low, twisting within you as your own rides the length of his body. it’s a stretch, but you manage to brush against the underside of his cock, tracing the thick vein protruding against the surface. your heart thrums, seeking his praise even as his hand leaving you and his thighs shift upward until he hovers at your face.
the heat of him bobs from the movement, tapping your lip and smearing its tackiness. his hand cards through your hair, rumbling veneration as you lick it away then open your mouth to stretch around him.
alhaitham’s hand, girthy and wide, teases the nap of your neck, forming a brace without asking. the rhythm of your tongue is met with a heavy groan of approval, the volume increasing as you swallow around him. the coordination of suction is breathing is an erratic dichotomy but you managed- for him. your mouth continues to caress him as he grows, hips beginning to undulate in aid.
“you’re going to swallow it all, aren’t you, sweetness? for me?” he’s curled over you, blowing through harsh pants as he coaxes another inch down your throat. it still lacked the depth that he would have wanted, but you would still make it good for him.
tears bubble behind your eyes, though not from pain, from sacrifice as you nod once more. it’s still an impossibility to take him to the hilt, but with passion you come close. swallowing the bitter taste of him until the taste of it is tattooed on your tongue. it’s a musky bitterness, thick with salt.
his voice is but a whisper, rolling against your ears. “yes, sweetheart. make me proud.”
you splayed your hands against his thoughts, fingernails digging a little into the skin there but alhaitham could care less. in fact, you dared to say he enjoyed the pinch of pain. it most noticeably shattered his ability to prologe his release as his eyes closed and he allowed the orgasm to surge through him.
this close, it was impossible not the notice the intense ripple of sensations as his nerve endings sparked with a powerful wave that had his knees trembling above you. just when you feared he might topple, he leaned back, rolling to the side and combing a haggard hand through his hair.
then your eyes connected and the truth you’d damned up inside, burst forward, barrelling through your defences and overwhelming you.
this man. alhaitham was your soulmate. this stranger whom you’d let take you home, ravish you beyond your wildest dreams and given you an core shattering orgasm that you were still reeling from. alhaitham who had come to lean in closer than you realised, must have come to the same conclusion as his mouth sealed over yours.
the featherlight caress of your lips to his made your body yearn for something more than one-sided release, the promise of coming together as one—
a sudden feeling of panic gripped your gut as the final dreads of your euphoria dripped away. scrabbling for your bearings, you nudged at him until he had no choice but to pull away, leaving you more exposed than ever.
alhaitham’s face was flush with exertion, eyes to feverish but his face was unguarded with uncertainty.
“are you alright?”
no, you definitely were not and you wouldn't be until you got home. even then you likely wouldn't be okay. you never would be the same after tonight.
“i should go—i shouldn’t have—i just need to leave.”
your heart seized with the sudden ache as realisation weighed down on you. this was not how this was supposed to go. not at all. you pushed yourself off his bed and onto your feet, hastily scrabbling for your clothing.
alhaitham picked his movements carefully as he straightened up on the bed,” it’s fine if you need space. i know this is a lot but it’s late. you should stay the night.” he gestures out out the door,” my roommate is gone for the weekend, you should take his room.”
but you were hardly listening as you pulled your top over head and headed for the door while working your arms through the sleeves. despite his offer, you continued past the adjacent door until you neared the entrance.
alhaitham’s steps were heavy as you followed behind. his hand came to your back to steady you as you hoped from one shoe to the other until they fit snug.
“you are overwhelmed and it's too late. you're not thinking clearly. i don't want you out in the city like this.”
you turned on him before he could finish, “you don't know me. just because were—you—,” you guested widely between the both of you. “this doesn't change anything. “
reading the room, the man carefully held up his hands in surrender. it should have been a commercial sight for a man of his stature given his still nude state.
“okay, okay. just wait, please.”
it’s the agreeableness that gives you pause. its give him just enough time to round the counter of the kitchen and rummage through one of the doors. he spares the time to bring a pen to it. when he returns, its with a small card.
“i’m not asking for anything. but if you want to reach me, here. i wont seek you out. but you know where to find me.”
whether he was referring to the tavern or his home was vague. but the look in his gaze wasn’t. no matter how much he tried to hide it, it was there … the expectation.
you turned away and opened the door, clutched the cardstock in your hand as you hurried to the elevate and punched the downward key until it blinked and the doors opened. you threw yourself inside, not looking back not when the doors closed but until you were free of the building and ducking into the hailed car.
fucking kaveh, it should have never ended this way.
it had been quite a long time since you’d felt anything remotely shameful after a night in bed with someone new. with kaveh it had never been an issue as he’d wormed his way into a positon of comfort before he’d ever reached your bed.
the both of you had decided that you enjoyed the fragile lining between friendship and something more, confident that neither would seek out the unknown. he was focused on his growing list of projects to offset his student debt and you were still trying to make the most of your own expenses into your education.
it had been a simple arrangement that you had been forlorn to see it unravel. but you couldn't put stocks into blaming kaveh forever. he certainly had not led you to the bar housing your soul mate and had no ploy in getting you into their bed.
no the blame had been solely yours.
you had barely been able to look at your reflection in the mirror, finding it all the more damning to written the swollen redness of your lips and early signs of hickeys dotting your throat. there had been no point in examining the rest of your body as you slipped into the shower to wash away what you could. however the ache of his presence remained seeped into your bones even as you fell into your blankets.
there had been one too many unsuccessful attempts to silence your mind, your more reasonable half having a field day over-analyzing your choices.
eventually you'd given up on sleep altogether in favour of squinting against the glare of your phone. if you were going to be riddled by guilt, the best thing to do was to spin it into a web of evidence. for months, you had been trapped trying to craft a damning theory to challenge the damn-near will of the gods.
and in return they made you into your own attestation.
in your initial presentation, the sages had challenged your theory as one-sided, some even edging to accuse you of envy. at their age, it was difficult for you to speculate if one or any of them had found their soulmate. there was no rhyme or rhythm to discovering your fated partner.
some discovered them early, others had to wait until their last breath.
but in the city of sumeru, where the god’s will was paramount to divine expectation.
if anything the only thing worth of your envy was the free state of mondstat where the country had thrived under their archon’s guidance to seek out their own fate.
it was a plausible dream but sumeru was your home.
closing your eyes, you leaned back against the flatness of your pillow. but behind your eyelids, however, were the lingering traces of last night’s memories etched there. it began with those blue-green eyes, then the image panned out to reveal the entirety of alhaitham, broad and defined in ways built from a fantasy.
hissing out a sharp curse, your eyes snapped open to shatter the visage.
it was starting to feel like a never-ending joke. why could it not be as simple as falling in bed with an attractive man.
you’d barely typed out a sentence before you eventually gave up, signalling defeat with the snap of the device closing. rubbing your eyes, you kicked the device to the edge of the bed and sprawled back against the bed.
hopefully tomorrow would bring forth a more concise mindset.
| ⚘⚘⚘ |
you woke several hours later tangled under a sea of blankets and the lingering taste of zaytum peaches. the faint glow of sunlight coming through the window indicated that it was sometime in the afternoon. instinctively, you rolled over to reached for your phone, heart stuttering at the feeling of hard cardstock against your fingertips.
there had been no effort made to forget about what had transpired less than twelve hours ago, nor was it meant to be a rude awakening. those thoughts were better suited after a shower and something to eat.
for now you roll out of bed in pursuit of the bathroom, mint taste and burn of mouthwash would help restart your day on a better note. you considered a second shower as well. the heat and steam was always a nice balm on a clogged brain, always helping to clear your head and think.
the promise of peace lasted about as long foam forming from the slow drag of your toothbrush against your teeth. it didn't take very long at all for your mind to sink into reality; the fog dissipating somewhat as you realised with dread that this would not be something you could avoid without some confrontation.
alhaitham
the name did not come without an overhanging cloud of density. it was a weighted thing, something of a reminder but you could not figure out the source beyond the stranger you’d met at the tavern bar.
it was fairly customary name in sumeru though your tallied occurrences were low. perhaps a stray soul at the market in passing but nothing of significance. it had been an akademiya joke to place him in harvata without truly knowing, purely inspired by the natural flow of banter.
but there wasn’t an alhaitham currently part of the darshan that you knew of. to be frank, when the name alhaitham came to mind it was only accompanied by occasional whispers in the absence of a highly regarded graduate and now scr—
your brows rose with each fragment of proof as realisation dawns with nauseating clarity. the soothing shower quickly becomes a brisk wash as you will your mind to calm.
you were so stupid. so so stupid.
spitting carelessly into the sink , you stagger through your strewn clothes as you return back to your bedroom with renewed vigour. the card you had tried to forget was quickly snatched up.
alhaitham kaysani
grand scribe
he was that alhaitham. the name bringing forth sobering clarity that had evaded you while post-orgasm. you had only known him in name, never having the opportunity to meet him. he wasn’t just faculty, he was damn near a sage after his achievements and one of the youngest to get so close.
and he was your soulmate.
snarky
callous
rational
these were all phantom rumours stitched into the reality of the man you’d come to witness.
but he was also dominating
attentive
and responsible when baring you to the world and unravelling you at the seems. there could be little fault in you for not recognizing him at first given the circumstances. you had never met the man before yesterday.
now, in the safety of your own home, you can admit to yourself that deep down, twisting your perceptions, you'd be a little relieved to have found him. yes, you were scared— worried that fate might have skipped you in your doubt— but the fated milestone was reached. and he had wanted you, albeit sexually, the setting had made you desirable enough to bring you home. even after discovering the truth, he’d reached for more.
in the end, you liked it; the weightlessness of floating above yourself for a moment; the rush of endorphins that seeped into the still waters. just the memory of it all has you tingling all over, hairs rising in protest.
despite your misgivings, the reality of it was, what you’d left behind was unfinished business. there was no plausible way for you to just go about your lives without addressing what was discovered. you knew your stance on the matter, but it was equally as important to understand his so that there would be no confusion in the future.
you were both scholars, but he was more welcoming to the present evidence than you were. though given the abrupt shift in your reality, a bit of additional clarity felt like a needed kindness.
tossing the card back down, you returned to the bathroom with the first spark of determination kindling. if your thoughts were going to be set aflame, you knew who to invite to the bonfire.
| ⚘⚘⚘ |
“i thought you said you and kaveh were through?”
finding a friendship with dehya had been an unexpected but appreciative experience. sumeru city was built by and for the cultivation of scholars under the aged guidance of late archon of sumeru. the akedemiya prided itself on its accumulation of knowledge, though it had yet overcame its ostracism of the children of the desert.
it boiled down to conflicting views of the source of knowledge and whom it ultimately belonged too, but those like dehya hardly cared little of the dispute. it was old news kept relevant but elders who needed to let the new generation decide the future.
ultimately, she found interest in your defiance. shared stories among drinks and good company overwriting centuries of bad blood.
you drew the steaming cup warming your palm closer, finding solace in the simple smell of caffeine rather than the taste of it. dehya kept her inquiries limited when you had first requested her company at the portside coffee shop but now her curiosity was brimming as she scrutinized you from across the table.
“we are.”
“so this has something to do with the random quality of life text i got last night?”
the curl of her lips hinted that she already knew the answer, the slow grin widening further when you tossed her a less than impressed scowl.
“i found someone new.”
the sharp red of her freshly pained nails drummed patiently against the table top as her raised brow encouraged you to get on with it.
with a huff, you opted to just get it all out.
“i met a guy at a bar who ended up being my soulmate.”
the woman had the courtesy not to laugh outright in your face, but the quiet snicker that escaped through the side of her mouth couldn't hide her amusement.
“you know i was rooting for you. i thought if anyone could defy the odds it would be you.”
her support, while generous, was one-sided towards your benefit. dehya had her restraints when it came to the exaggerated nonsense spewed by the akademiya on the subject. but she couldn't deny it’s biological merits after discovering her other half in the form of her childhood friend and now girlfriend.
dunyarzad believed in a more muted rendition of the historic value of soul mates, a hopeless romantic that thrived on the magic of dreams. in a way you both humored the young woman, if only to be plagued with her infectious smile and outlook on life.
dehya smirked, leaning forward on her elbows. the flaky croissant you had purchased as a show of gratitude forgotten. “so you go out with a stranger and they rock your world … and now you’re in the same boat as the rest of us."
you stare at her blankly, “it’s not that simple.’’
“it is if you stick by the facts,” she answers smoothly. “so you had one good night, you’re not obligated to marry him. if anything, you're the one hung up over it. why not just leave it as that and move on?”
your body jolts with the instinct to protest, but the weighted gaze she holds over you keeps you rooted until the words seep in. you had hardly delved into the details of the night, but she was reading you like an open book.
society’s expectations weren't your reality. nor had alhaitham’s surmise given his perplexed but visible patience during your hasty escape. he had made the same discovery as you but didn’t hold you accountable for an explanation.
instead he gave you the option.
seek him out or leave it as it was.
knowing him would be an emotional burden but you had lived this long without encountering him and would eventually outlive the physical reminder.
dehya drew your attention back by the soft sound of her spoon clinking against the side of her mug.
“you’re my friend, but sometimes you scholars are all the same.”
setting the spoon aside, she leveled you with a look. “once you get a theory planted in your head, anyone outside of it is well out of reason. you all forget that the world is full of theories and opinions and there is so much more to explore if you would be more wiling to accept ones that aren't your own.”
her face softens as she reaches out to fold her palm over yours.
“you came to me for advice at least, so let me give it. everyone's soulmate situation is unique. your parents for example.” you flinch at the mention, years of memories solidifying the reason you sought out the akademiya.
dehya's fingers squeeze in reassurance as she continues. “at least hear him out. maybe their theory will compliment yours. and if not, well next time call me to a fight rather than a cup of coffee.”
the thinly veiled joke pulled a tight smile from your lips.
she was right though. as a scholar you had encouraged a new experience and were left to analyze the variables. the night had been an unexpected outcome but not a failure.
in the end, you liked it; the weightlessness of floating above yourself for a moment; the rush of endorphins that seeped into the still waters. just the memory of it all has you tingling all over, hairs rising in protest.
despite your misgivings, the reality of it was, what you’d left behind was unfinished business. there was no plausible way for you to just go about your lives without addressing what was discovered. you knew your stance on the matter, but it was equally as important to understand his so that there would be no confusion in the future.
you managed to finish your coffee before dehya eventually coaxed you out of the shop, muttering about a fresh text from dunyarzad as you parted ways at the entrance.
the warmth of her encouraging hug still lingered as you plucked the contact card from its perch on your nightstand.
flipping the card, you found a neat scrawl of additional numbers, the intention clear.
with that in mind, you reached for your phone and typed out a message.
‘i’d like to talk.’
your thumbs tap against the screen idly, hoping he was awake and wouldn’t keep you waiting. it was a safe assumption that the man was a morning person when the reply was sent a few minutes later.
‘fine. would you like me to come to you?.’
you thought about alhaitham coming to your flat.
grand scribe alhaitham who was hardly as inconspicuous in sumeru city.
soulmate alhaitham who had yet to have his way with you in your bed-
the last thing you needed to think about was either of you coming.
‘no, will you be home in the evening? i can be there.’
his reply was simple.
‘4pm.’
you stared at the text with a writhing feeling in your gut. it definitely needed to happen, a talk like this was better addressed soon than later. but maybe this was too soon. there was no taking the words back now but how hard would it be to just delete them? a simple swipe and tap and they’d be gone.
you’d avoided alhaitham this long. and if you stayed away from a certain tavern you could continue to do so. he didn’t seem like a man who would put effort into something that lacked fruition.
exhaling slowly, you tossed the phone away before you made another rash decision. confronting it now would be the smart thing to do. it was the best way to keep yourself from spiralling down a path of the unknown. just because you discovered your soulmate, nothing had changed.
granted he gave you the best orgasm you’d had so far in your life, it was just that. a night of carnage that had you waking up with nothing but regret. how could anyone chase something so recklessly because they felt that the archons put their stars too close together?
yes, tackling this now would let you set the record straight. you didn't want a marriage proposal but that didn't mean— no, you wouldn't speculate or conjure up anything until you got on the same page. alhaitham seemed like a rational person, he likely didn’t believe in soulmates either. a good night in bed got the best of everyone.
for a long moment, you stood in the noon shadow of your bedroom before eventually returning to the bathroom to finish your routine. as you brushed your teeth and washed your face, you tried hard not to look too close at your reflection again.
picking back up the phone, you craft and send a quick message to kaveh.
‘hope you haven’t fallen into a coma.’
and you hoped you aren't falling into a deeper mess.
continued in part ii
#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham fanfic#alhaitham imagine#genshin impact imagine#genshin impact x reader#al haitham x reader#al haitham imagine#al haitham fanfic#the wrong draft got uploaded early so sorry for the rough first post enjoy!
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Headcanons (SFW & NSFW) | Aki Hayakawa
Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x fem! reader
Content/warnings: fluff, smut, nothing too crazy to be honest
A/N: Hello! I have risen from the dead and my very first post in over a year will be dedicated to the newfound love of my life, Aki Hayakawa. I feel like headcanons are a good way for me to figure out characterization and how I want to write characters in future fics, so here we are. Also I edited this Aki screencap to make him :) instead of :(
SFW
Makes his bed every morning, even if you’re in it. So if you wake up and find that one half of the bed is a lot straighter and smoother than your half, you’ll know why.
That being said, he likes to make sure you’re nice and warm when he leaves your side every morning for work, so he makes sure to wrap the blanket around you extra snug.
Is your personal chauffeur. The good thing about Aki is that he’s not only a good driver, but he loves driving as well. You can mention wanting to go to a certain place, then all of a sudden Aki’s dragging you out the door, keys in hand. In the words of T.I., “you can go wherever you like”
Has a thing for forehead kisses, especially if you’re shorter than him.
Likes it when you guys have complimentary or matching jewelry.
Aki isn’t one to talk much, but around you it’s almost like his mouth has a mind of its own. He feels like he can talk about anything and everything with you, and hopes that you feel the same way around him.
Was very much an old man in his past life. Quite geriatric, to be honest. Goes to bed early, doesn’t upgrade his phone, reads physical newspapers in this day and age. You’ll have to live with the fact that you’re dating a grandpa </3
Aki is very, very responsible. Is always punctual, schedules appointments without needing a reminder, knows his way around legal documents and just navigating everyday life. (Though it probably has to do with the fact he’s an old man incarnate)
He doesn’t mind if he has to do things for you, either. He welcomes it, even. He likes feeling needed by you.
Aside from cooking and driving, I imagine Aki being a somewhat proficient photographer. He has a bunch of cash to blow from being in public safety, and although he has very few vices to spend his salary on, he decided to indulge on a quality camera with the appropriate accessories
It started off small, driving to random spots on his days off and shooting pics. He was definitely more of a scenic photographer before he met you.
Now that you’re together, you’re almost always the focus of his masterpieces. It’s almost endearing, actually, the way he asks if you’d allow him to take you out on a photoshoot date. Sometimes, he has a specific theme in mind, so he’ll buy the props he needs (including your outfits).
He’s literally starstruck every time he sees you in front of a camera. If you’re shy, he’ll encourage you until you feel more comfortable to pose the way he needs you to.
He especially likes the candid pictures he takes of you— you laughing, looking out in the distance at the view, trying a new dish at a new date spot he took you to, etc. He has a separate folder on his laptop dedicated to pictures of you, and he looks back at them whenever he’s missing you a little extra.
I’m sure this has been established already, but Aki’s love language = acts of service. He’ll do anything and everything for you, you don’t even have to ask (most of the time).
Aki is a very observant lover, to the point where he knows you better than the back of his own hand. He seems to know what you want and when you need it. And he loves being the person to give you everything.
Speaking of giving you everything, Aki is very much fine with you spending his paycheck. He’s never felt the need to spend much on himself aside from essentials, and he has a good amount of savings for you to shop your little heart out and then some.
Not that he thinks you’re materialistic at all, but there’s just something about a pretty girl blowing his cash that gets him a bit worked up (in a good way).
NSFW
Speaking of getting worked up, Aki’s dick is pretty much on hard whenever you two are together. You could literally be having the most mundane conversation but if you look down at Aki’s pants you’d most definitely see Aki Jr saying hi. He can’t help it, he just thinks you’re so unbelievably ethereal.
Honestly has no shame when he sees you’ve noticed his predicament. Raises an eyebrow as if to say, “And?”
Back to his photography skills— one time you asked Aki if you could do a boudoir shoot and he swore he almost saw God for a second. Of course, the photos turned out beautiful, and Aki keeps the physical copies stashed away for *safekeeping*
As much as he likes taking control when you two have sex, he has a thing for getting bossed around by you. He’s comfortable enough to get into a more submissive headspace, and will gladly do anything you ask of him.
Has an oral fixation, no doubt. His mouth always needs to be occupied with something— your lips, fingers, titties, your clit
Is obsessed with sucking on your tongue, and swears he almost passes out every time you do the same with his
His favorite thing to do is to get you nice, wet, and overstimulated before he even thinks about putting his dick inside you. So expect to cum on his tongue and fingers a good number of times before getting fucked properly.
As reserved and put together as Aki seems to be, his favorite thing in the world is when you two are both so sensitive and overstimulated from cumming so much that neither of you can even form a coherent sentence. The way his brain turns to mush every time you two are together is almost more addicting than the nicotine he consumes on a daily basis
I think the way that Aki loves is somewhat contradictory— quiet yet very intense. And I like to think that bleeds into the way he makes love to you as well. It starts off very tame until it becomes almost too much to bear. The pleasure only keeps building and building until you both can’t physically take any more.
A munch.
#my man is a munch AND stays bricked up what more could you want?#this is lowkey unserious I’m sorry#aki x reader#aki hayawaka#aki hayawaka headcanons#chainsaw man x reader#csm x y/n#csm x you#csm x reader#kat’s writing#kat’s demon time
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Oh no was the spin-off bad or just mediocre? Is there anything you particularly liked or disliked about it?
god okay let's get into the good, the bad, and the ???? of it all. hiding it entirely under a cut because spoilers ahoy.
the :)
I have reservations about the Riddler as a full protagonist that I'll articulate below, but I can't really fault any of the writing re: Eddie's dialogue at all. the characterization of the Riddler as an insufferably cocky and nosy motormouth works really well, and Hasan Minhaj seems like he's having a blast with the expanded role.
I also like ESCAPE ARTIST PICKPOCKET RIDDLER recognition!!!
also hey even though they didn't follow up on some of the very promising tidbits re: Eddie's potentially deteriorating mental state dropped in Unburied, I like that it was made clear that there are physical components to his riddle compulsion, namely mentioning that his chest was getting tighter. it adds an interesting dimension to his whole schtick!
having listed all these fun traits that I enjoy, I also respect that the story doesn't feel the need to like... soften Eddie in order to make him a more likeable protagonist. oh haha the funny little asshole man? yeah he killed people. he kills a guy literally in the course of the story after proclaiming in the very first episode that he's mostly non-violent. and he's 100% chill about it because fuck that guy! he doesn't matter, he's in the way of the riddle! and the whole ending with Nadira is... oofah doofah, that's crazy. that's crazy crazy. and it's pretty tasty!
I LOOOOOVE appearances from minor villains!!! bro we got THE FUCKING TALLY MAN in this!!! also hey when I wrote that absurdly long post-Unburied fic I CORRECTLY predicted Croc, Sportsmaster, and the fucking Condiment King someone. I don't know. pay me or kiss me on the mouth for that or something.
I wish there was more Barbara, of course, but I really like what we did get of her! I like that we've kind of skipped over any need for her to have a Batgirl era and just got straight to the good stuff of being almost Oracle. I love to see her exactly where she belongs: flagrantly committing cybercrime to save lives because she can.
also the sound design is still good, and I really like the new music for the opening and Azrael's motif
also speaking of Azrael I'm going to say ONE nice thing about how he was written which is that I DO think it's interesting that they directly pointed out that the concept of Azrael as an angel of death is actually much more prominent in Islam than Christianity while also making in unambiguous that the Nygmas are a Muslim family. it adds a little bit of intrigue to the connection between Nadira and JP, not nearly enough to actually redeem Nadira as a big bad in my eyes (see below) but it is interesting!
also lastly Eddie is flirting so hard with Bruce AND Barbara I love you problematic awful bisexual representation. AND Killer Croc wants to fuck him? madness.
the :/
I alluded to this earlier, but I don't know if I love Eddie promoted to the POV protagonist! it's a big departure from Unburied, not just in terms of who's the main character but also in terms of limiting the scope of the story. giving Bruce and Barbara's alternating perspectives in Unburied was brilliant for building up the mystery and creating suspense in the story, and when the story came together to focus fully on Bruce as Batman it felt organically earned.
and also on a more Eddie-centric note I just! think he works better as a supporting character for other people to bounce off of, rather than being a lead in his own right!
I'm putting this in :/ instead of :( because it's more of a matter of personal taste than anything but godddddd I wanted more Barbara :/ I love her :/ where is she :/ I'm mostly mad because I wanted a spinoff of her and Eddie solving crimes while he crashes in her couch and does petty crime but godddddd god god god I want her back so bad I love her more than Eddie and Bruce combined
while I like the emotional beats of the resolution with Nadira I don't... like her as a character or a storytelling device. like I'm sorry but I don't really care about the Riddler's family drama! especially not when it's as heavy-handed as "my sister told me riddles to distract me from our parents fighting." very reminiscent of the backstory where Leonard and Lisa Snart would hide out in an ice cream truck or whatever, please stop trying to make psychology this painfully clear cut.
I also didn't really need an origin story but I do like that it's kind of an updated version of his first BTAS episode!
I can't decide if Jean Paul unceremoniously killing off Flass is really funny or sucks shit. kind of both but it does veer towards the latter, I was really hoping that if they're going to keep making more of this podcast we would at least get to see Babs get an arc where she investigates Flass and gets justice for her dad on her own terms. but then again. it is pretty funny.
also god this isn't REALLY about the show but I have to say this. the Riddler a.) getting #calledout by Azrael for bearing false witness and b.) ESPECIALLY him trying to dunk on his sister by implying she should marry a white guy are SO FUNNY given the timing of the minor scandal re: Hasan Minhaj maybe just straight up making things up entirely in his comedy and SPECIFICALLY getting that poor woman doxxed by claiming she dumped him for racist reasons. I'M JUST SAYING. (editor's note: since absolved of all wrongdoing and the woman who wrote that piece is genuinely unhinged, but the timing was still BANANAS.)
the :(
I'm just gonna say it, man: I'm not into Colman Domingo's Bruce/Batman performance at all. I don't know what happened behind the scenes to precipitate Winston Duke leaving the role, but god fuck I'm in mourning. Duke is genuinely one of my favorite portrayals of Bruce ever for his distinctive Batman voice and how much expressiveness, vulnerability, and warmth he brings to the character, and while I wouldn't want his replacement to try and mimic that performance exactly (impossible!) it seems like Domingo just... wasn't even given the memo? this is a much flatter Bruce, and I simply cannot love him.
re: my complaints about Nadira above, her character is just handled in a really underwhelming way. having Eddie repeatedly call her "sis" is stumbling straight into the one of the worst of all lazy exposition techniques, especially since Bruce works his way to that exact revelation, like would it have killed anyone to just... let us wonder about the connection a *little* longer? also, again, those flashbacks are ARTLESS. in Unburied there's framing and context for all of the ways the past blends into the present, whether it's Strange's recordings or the story taking place inside Bruce's own meddled memories. it really feels like they're just hurling backstory at us with a catapult in this one.
the ultimate big bad reveal is... ugh. UGH. Unburied was a really cool nesting doll of a minor Batman villain being manipulated by a more well-known villain being manipulated by an A-list villain with a cool and unique spin on her backstory... Secrets in the Dark has an absolutely WASTED member of the Batfamily used as a killer of the week, controlled by a minor dirty cop and a complete OC who doesn't get much screentime at all. cool!
also hey listen. as soon as they start going "hmm... I don't know this is just too big for Flass... SOMEONE else must be helping him..." it's like. I don't know, man. do you think it's possibly the only new character introduced in the series who we know was just elected to a government position? do you think maybe that's who it could be?
also hey man speaking of which they just fucking. they just used Jean Paul as a random deranged serial killer and then the fucking Riddler managed to convince him to off himself. fucking. disrespectful. this feels like that episode of Arrow (sorry to cite Arrow in 2023, I know) when Helena's just like. an antagonist of the week for Oliver to fight. disrespectful!!!!
"Makenzie I thought you didn't even like Jean Paul why does it matter" I'M COMING AROUND ON HIM
overall the plot just feels way more hectic and unpolished than Unburied and it's Unfortunate!
also hey do you remember at the end of Unburied where Bruce just casually blows the lid open on Eddie being afraid that he's like. devolving and actively losing his grip on his own brain and it's like extra bad and scary because he has no idea whether it really means anything when he passes psych evals, etc? really cool how we never really brought that up again
where was Ace :( :( :( my good boy :( :( :(
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: Capriciously_Terminal! @capriciouslyterminal has 106 fics on ao3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 105 of them are in the Steddie tag!
@mustardyellowlilac recommends the following works by Capriciously_Terminal:
Where the Sun Can't Reach
Spit Me out, You Don't Know Where I've Been
It's the Ritual of the Thing
Baby I'm Your Man (Don't Fear the Reaper)
It's as if she writes memories, rather than stories, and that makes them tangible and devastating -- @mustardyellowlilac
Below the cut, @capriciouslyterminal answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
I started writing Steddie because the characters of Steve and Eddie have such specific and human voices that I literally couldn’t get them out of my head after watching the first drop of S4. (Also I’d just gotten a new puppy who didn’t love sleeping through the night so I had plenty of time to think). The more I wrote for them the deeper I found myself in their voices and thinking about what they could do and I had to keep going until I ran out of steam.
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
I love a good “Steddie interwoven into previous seasons’ canon events” story. Especially if an author makes it SO specific. I want Steve and Eddie in Starcourt. I want Eddie Munson popping up at the pumpkin patch. I want Eddie Munson in the background at Starcourt drooling. I want him to spend this whole time watching Steve’s character growth and finding it impossibly hot before getting twisted up in the horror.
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
I definitely love adding Eddie Munson to canon (thinking about him and life-guard Steve Harrington is where this all began, afterall). However I think that I, as a person, am just as obsessed with The Horrors. As such adding monstrosity/new flavors of spooky to this show was my favorite thing to do.
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
I can narrow it down to two! My favorite piece of Steddie fic that changed my brain chemistry has got to be fastcardotmp3’s “that’s just wasteland, baby!” (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42351597) because the scene in the lake? The genuine wonderful take on in media res apocalypse living? Dot’s talent for characterization/love? I’ll never live it down. Actually, go read everything by fastcardotmp3. Do yourself a favor.
The other has to be “every mistake was made purposefully” by birthdaycandles (https://archiveofourown.org/works/41795838/chapters/104862381). It turns out I’m a sucker for excellent narration and watching Steddie/plot shenanigans from Tommy Hagan’s prickly point of view. It gave me everything I’ve ever wanted.
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
I always wanted to write a When Harry Met Sally AU about Steve and Eddie meeting throughout their lives/development. I don’t know if I’ll ever pick it up again but it’s still there knocking at the back of my mind. I’ve also got like fifteen of the drabbles in i love you you dope with bits of continuation in my head too.
What is your writing process like?
In general, my writing is a very all or nothing process. It’s either going to go all day, through meals, and not stop until the idea is finished OR I’m going to be stalled completely. Generally, though, if I’m in my crazy inspired phase I’ll have an idea (specifically the beginning of something) and if that idea sticks in my head for more than a single day then I probably can’t leave it until it’s done. However, this did change with my writing i love you you dope. I decided to answer p0ck3tf0x's "100 Ways to Say I Love You" list one prompt at a time. Once a day. RIP. This led to a writing process which was more of a sit down after work and immediately write the first thing you could think of until it’s done kind of affair. I can’t recommend that style lol. It led to some pretty intense burnout by the end but I am proud of how many ideas came because of it. It showed that, through tenacity, most ideas could be something worth pursuing.
Do you have any writing quirks?
I can’t help but put first and second person pronouns in descriptions as if speaking to the reader and I’m a frequent and blatant tense shifter. It’s all over the place at times lol. I also LOVE a good stream of consciousness description, flitting from one image to another, which probably lead to these grammatical quirks and a shit ton of run-on sentences.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
Before I started writing i love you you dope I very much preferred finishing my writing before I posted it. It took ages but nothing felt worse than having to leave something unfinished because I’d lost the plot (which has happened several times). However, part of the draw of i love you you dope was that (as a challenge) I had to write and post daily. While I learned I can write on such a grueling schedule, I can safely say after finishing it that I prefer having the time to ensure something’s to my standards. Or, at least, until I’m tired of looking at it and just want other people to see it.
Which fic are you most proud of?
If we branch outside of my Steddie work it’s a fic for a little show called Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency that I think I’ll never top. A Road Song in Quartet that Smells like a Trio is basically my novel/brain-child about my favorite rowdy vampire boys and I have to shout it out everywhere I go. However, to stick to the Steddie, I had such a great time with characterization in writing It’s the Ritual of the Thing. Some of those descriptions are still some of my best work. Or, I’d have to say, Can We Both Be Lonely If We’re Both Looking at Each Other? It’s an AU modeled after the world of The Magnus Archives Podcast and not only was I proud of the way I was able to layer monstrosity on both Eddie and Steve but I just loved the world. I actually planned out a whole main plot for the world that never saw the light of day.
How did you get the idea for Baby I'm Your Man (Don't Fear the Reaper)?
I can’t remember which came first, the title or the idea of Eddie meeting Death as played by Steve Harrington, but the song title by Blue Öyster Cult had definitely been sitting in my head for a while. The idea initially started as a Seventh Seal reference with Eddie having to challenge Death with Steve Harrington’s face to a game of basketball but that scene wasn’t working so instead we got a trip through various S4 locales and a fun Death with good hair.
When writing Spit Me out, You Don't Know Where I've Been, what was something you didn’t expect?
I honestly didn’t know if anyone would vibe with the language/story. For a fic that focused a lot on unease, offal, and how hard it would be to picture a future in a small town I was waiting for people to not touch this one with a ten foot pole. So to hear that it actually channeled people’s feelings or that it was something that people enjoyed (as opposed to just me shouting stressful things at the sky) was a big expectation dodge.
What inspired It's the Ritual of the Thing?
When I was in high school I had a friend who asked me out once, the first person to ever do so, and my first instinctual response was to genuinely ask him why he was really calling me after school. He insisted that he really did want to ask me out and for some reason that made my blood run cold. The date did not go well, obviously, but I remembered the gut punch to think someone wouldn’t want you/the desire to say no just because it frightened you for years afterwards. It felt like such an Eddie thing to feel, especially if Steve Harrington was the one to ask him out. Honestly…I poured a lot of my own worldview into Eddie Munson as I wrote him and that’s where a lot of this came from.
What was your favorite part to write from Ritual of the Thing?
I’d have to say it’s a toss up between two parts. Firstly, I’ll never get over the descriptive imagery in the beginning (I’ll never forget lines like “Suddenly it’s like he’s a Jack-O-Lantern with his mouth carved open. A candle sits on his tongue and its light is shining out of his eyes”). It was the kind of sentence I was thrilled to read after I wrote it. Secondly, I was really proud of Eddie and Robin’s conversation after Steve told her about his asking Eddie out. I loved both of their voices in that moment and the thought of Robin trying to explain how much Steve could love you even after you’d had to let him down…and her little fake nightmare discussion.
How do/did you feel writing Where the Sun Can't Reach?
On one hand it felt like I was exorcizing something because I show my class The Sandlot once a year and that means for one day I watch the scene where the kid fakes drowning to make-out with the lifeguard four times. That’s too many times. I had to process that. But I do remember that feeling of loneliness that could come with summer. That could come with wishing for a room somewhere with someone you loved when it felt impossible. I remember when the smallest of things could mean the world when you had nothing else…so in a way maybe I was exorcizing that too.
What was the most difficult part of writing Where the Sun Can't Reach?
Besides the jokey answer of reliving the aforementioned scene from The Sandlot on purpose, I’d have to say trying to accurately consider the physics/feelings of Eddie’s trip into the water. The feelings/actual consequences of hitting his head. I’m not too sure I got the details right but I remember working on it so many times that I eventually threw in the towel and went with what I had.
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
I think…it’s gotta go to my lone vampire Steddie fic I Go Hungry Every Night. The whole thing’s one big treatise to Upside Down skinned vampires and food/service as a love language? And also the fact that I love vampires/monstrosity. I just went way too hard with the line:
“If you asked Steve what the opposite of tracing constellations in someone’s freckles in the afterglow would be he’d say this, making shapes in the pieces of the wound they’ve given you. The one that weeps red slowly.”
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
While I wish I did, and I’m always thinking about various unfinished fics in the strangest moments of my life, I think I’m pretty knocked from my Steddie writing mojo. I love you you dope was an incredible process and I am so proud of it…but I think it cauterized my writing brain for Steddie. I’d love for people to poke around the fics I wrote and I will say that other people’s intrigue sometimes pulls my attention back to old ideas…but I do believe I’m a bit out to pasture here lol.
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
Writing Steddie was something that kept me sane during a really stressful transition from college to adulthood. These characters and all the people I got to meet/talk with in this fandom have been one of the greatest joys in my life. I’m so honored, like honestly floored, that anyone would nominate me for something like this. The thing about writing fic is that oftentimes when you start it can feel like you can’t possibly amount to what other people do. Like you’re just a little voice that doesn’t have anything special about it even when you tried so hard. But I stand as someone who felt that way and still found that people did enjoy what I wrote and if I can do it, honestly, anyone can. <3
Thank you to our author, @capriciouslyterminal, and our nominator, @mustardyellowlilac! See more of Capriciously_Terminal's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
#writer's wednesday#writer's spotlight#steddie#steddie fic recs#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#stranger things#ao3 writer#steddie writers
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Sav's Author Highlight: Lenipez
For the entire week of @trigunfanfic appreciation week, I’m going to highlight my favorite authors and friends whose writing I adore and why. Now it's @madnessmadness's turn >:3
Oh man. I gotta start first with the fic series that low-key changed my life, Becoming Eden.
Rating: mostly M (main series), some T or E (side stories) | Ship: Gen, +/- Mashwood if you squint, previous VashMilly | Genre: Sci Fi, Drama, Very House of Leaves, Psychological.... horror? fuckery? | Trigun Soup (all three characterizations in a blender)
Last summer I started this fic on a whim and had no idea that I was in for the wildest, most interesting fic I'd ever read. I have to chew on every word so slowly, sucking as much meaning as I can out of every metaphor, trying to figure out what the POV character is saying versus what they mean vs what is true. The prose is unlike anything I had ever read before, and the formatting is so unique and interesting. I was sending screenshots of this fic to my irl friends who haven't watched Trigun, that's how intensely this fic had me in a chokehold.
Becoming Eden is always reminding me that I can write weirder, I can write sillier, I can do whatever I want. It's a masterclass in sci fi weirdness, diving into different character POVs, unreliable narration, and using unusual formatting to help tell the story. It's a visual experience as much as it is a verbal one. Even with a huge cast of characters getting POVs, there is such an interesting difference in each one of them, and they all feel so unique and rich. And the imagery and metaphors! Damn!! This series has in turn inspired some of my own writing, particularly a one shot I wrote about Rem and plants.
Also, Waterloo is my new on repeat anthem. It calms me down, okay?
I also highly highly recommend Leni's other works, particularly their other interesting poetry if you like what BE has to offer, a Pacific Rim AU, their Millyknives if you're into that, and their fairy AU. ALSO! Their smut! Their smut is so delicious that I actually want to highlight some of it on its own.
First Rodeo - Mashwood, E. 11K of Meryl weaponizing her rope tying skills into the longest slow burn oh my god. Makes me insane just thinking about it. Everyone is pitiful in this and the tension is insane. This is one of my favorite smut fics of all time, and I read a lot of smut.
Jar of Marbles series - Vashmeryl, Vashwood. E. Weird alien xenobiology. I can never look at an ultrasound the same way. I love the implications in this fic, both funny and not. Wolfwood's weak little "Oh yeah?" makes me die laughing.
White Lie - Vashmeryl, E. But in the fun stupid way that is catnip to me.
Hog Tied - Stryfewood, E. You want stupid bickering Stryfewood? You got it!!
ANYWAY. I'm not sure how else to describe Leni's writing style other than that it's vivid, wonderfully metaphorical, and has a stream-of-consciousness flow that is so interesting and sucks you right in. It's really just something you're going to have to experience on your own. It's inspired some of my own writing too, and it's a really fun style. Leni's biggest advice is that fic is always for fun, and you can just tell how much fun they have writing their fic. And I want to sit down and dissect every little bit of Becoming Eden. I want a bound copy. I want a full college course and a dissertation on the themes. Makes me crazy in the best way, and to really just add the icing on the cake, Leni is a wonderful, kind human through and through.
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do you have any ciel/sebastian fics you'd recommend? it's difficult to wade through ao3
of course! ive been in these trenches for a while so ive done my share of AO3 wading. hope you enjoy my findings! 💗🫡
the classic(s):
stain the water clear! a must-read. #1 sbcl fic forever its like scripture to me. portrays their dynamic exactly how ive always envisioned it, in a way thats both devastating and so dark but also strangely tender and loving and intimate. (+ i recommend reading other works by objectlesson as well, i feel like they Get It like no one else does.)
the other classic kuro scholars on twitter always talk about it the flowers of evil series - personally i have a complicated relationship with this one cause i just dont enjoy sebastians characterization in it but it is extremely well-written and has some really iconic moments (the fucking mind games here... unparalleled) so if i were you id definitely check it out! feels very canon-compliant too.
(both of these can be somewhat triggering at times so heed the tags and make sure to take care of yourself!)
pwp:
bloodletting was the first sbcl fic i found that i actually enjoyed and it has such a special place in my heart, its almost a classic to me too... its the only sub sebastian fic i know of which is so sad because thats literally canon. to me. lets all shut up about the daddy dom bullshit and get on this immediately. 💯
i love pretty much all fics by martialartist861s #good old yaoi. (im especially fond of the one where they fuck while sebastian is in his old man from book of murder form and they get off at the emphasized age difference, i think thats crazy and i dont think ive seen it before. respect both for unhinged originality and the eroticism. + the sex pollen one)
taunt & fold. omegaverse moment! i really like the way its written.
that tutor, indulging has virginity play which is honestly such a game-changing concept in the context of this ship...
to have and to cherish is the only non-explicit one on this list and its just about them making out but i think its cute!
(edit). forgot to mention la destruction! hot and well-written and worth checking out.
#i will be so brave and put this in the tag.#sebaciel#kuroshitsuji#kuroposting#anonymous#answered#fic rec
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for the ask game: Danny Arkham Security Guard?
I've been curious where you're at with that for a while (I assumed the muse has fled and/or you're too busy with other fics), so had to pick that one when I saw it on the list 👀
From this WIP ask game
Haha! I knew someone would ask about it!
Honestly I have struggled a lot with picking this bad boy up... When I finally did a few months ago, the last edit was July 2022 😭
Long story short, summer 2022 was the time I really went down the spiral with Hardcover ship and literally every idea I had was for those two. I think what happened was that I realized there was an untapped potential and market for romance and all the classic romance tropes in DP fandom (I understood why that was the case, but still I was frustrated because I hadn't seen a single fic that made me crazy about any ship in DP) and it left me wanting.
Then I wrote Arkham Guard Danny and I did the bit where Jazz almost shoots Jason, and then I liked the dynamics between him and the siblings and I literally said in the AN if I ended up shipping him, I was debating between Jazz and Danny. *laughs in irony*
So basically I went "what if I write every romance story trope but Jazz/Jason?" and the rest is history.
And every damn time I went back to Arkham Guard Danny, I re read it and realized.... Is just so bad. I saw flaws everywhere. I saw bad characterization. I saw "angry robin Jason" and a bunch of things I don't stand by anymore and I felt like there was no way I could continue that fic and the difference wouldn't be felt. Was I too harsh with myself? Absolutely, but we are our worst critic.
Also? I felt the project running away from me. I started developing worldbuilding and ideas and I got mad because Arkham Guard is supposed to be simple. It used to be the "simple fic" I did while I focused on my magnum opus for DP fandom (Eldritch Ghost King Danny AU - "You and me and our best friend makes three"). If it got complicated I didn't want to write it anymore. And then it did and I dropped it.
Recently I went through a really bad situation and it kind of killed any want to write for dpxdc. I thought - why not go back to the basics? Revisit what really made me start in the fandom, what made me get a bunch of comments like "i got into dpxdc because of this fic". Took me back to when I started, how simple it felt to just write a fic and drop it to the ether and not worry about the things that made me want to stop forever.
So I did. Feels good to pick this up again!
I could go on forever but I won't continue rambling about this project (✿◡‿◡)
If you read up to this point, here's a little bit of what I have so far!
---
“Children,” Alfred stood from his seat, positioning himself between the brothers and their guest. “Let her breathe.”
“It’s okay, Mr. — uh…” She blushed as she realized she never asked for his name.
“Alfred,” the butler smiled, “Alfred Pennyworth.”
“Mr. Pennyworth,” she nodded politely. “I’m fine. I am aware that after that… theatrical spectacle, explanations are needed.”
“Indeed.” Batman cut in the conversation. “Proper explanations are in order. After I deliver the Joker to Arkham.”
“You can’t be serious!” Did the old man go crazy? Back to that wretched place?
Jazz frowned, seemingly sharing his thoughts. She leaned closer to the microphone and spoke in a controlled voice. “Where are you delivering him? In the hospital.”
Bruce took way too long to answer, so Tim did it for him. “Through the front door?”
Jazz didn’t find it funny. “Wait for me.”
“What?”
“I said, wait for me.” Jazz reached for her discarded jacket, eyeing the door to the elevator back to the manor. “Joker is my patient and I need to be there.”
“What for?”
She turned to look at Jason. “He doesn’t deserve to be left at the mercy of some of the people in the Asylum. They could—”
“He can rot for all I care.”
The vigilante walked up to her, getting in her way and using his height and build to scare her into submission. Jazz held his gaze, defiant, muscles tense and ready to throw down if needed.
“You don’t know that place like I do.”
Jason huffed. “Whatever the inmates want to do to him, he deserves it.”
“I wasn’t talking about the inmates.” Her teal eyes steeled with fury. “Arkham has a history of staff abusing their authority.”
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Wtf is wrong with these anons?!? To me it seems that people discussing about Levi and his trauma gives some people an ick. It's like they think Levi is tainted by it, or that it destroys their view of Levi being a dominant man in bed. Which is crazy to me because their fics and characterization of levi was always a headcanon to begin with and also Levi is a character that is beyond just seeing him as a sexual object(I know, shocking) for their sexual fantasies. If their first thought concerning a heart wrenching story like bad boy was to disregard the dreadful implications of it because it destroys a image they created in their heads then aot is not the media for them. If they don't like people actually liking and discussing Levi as a character, the block button is always free to use. And also, what did they mean by the feminization of his character. Are women the only people sexually assaulted?
That's the implication from that anon, yes. Or that men who have feelings of any kind or are actually impacted by their life experiences are really women. Because no "real or strong man" would ever let their trauma actually affect them.
What's truly sick about these people is that they complain and cry and act disturbed by anyone daring to discuss the fact that Levi was the victim of severe physical, mental, verbal and emotional abuse, and very possibly sexual abuse, while at the same time reducing him to a sexual fantasy for them to get off on. Maybe they don't like people discussing that Levi might have been sexually abused because it hits a little too close to home with regard to how they treat Levi's character.
And yes, their ideas about Levi were never canon, and never will be, but they just can't accept that. They get mad at anyone who actually discusses Levi's canon character and focuses on his canon character, because it disrupts their ability to use him as an avatar for their own projections and fantasies. Like, Levi isn't a blank canvas for them to glom their wet dreams all over. He's a fully formed character that exists within a fully established world and story completely separate from their little fanfics and fan art.
Like I said, if they can't accept Levi's character for who he actually is, then they need to stop pretending like they're fans of his at all. Because they don't like Levi if actually TALKING about Levi and what he's been through upsets them. They like whatever fake-ass version of his character it is that they've created in their heads. Thus, again, they don't like Levi at all.
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holy. fuckin'. DAMN. I was pretty good at predicting the plot so far, but this episode proved that stampede is going in a whole new direction for real. spoilers for ep 9!!! (and manga a bit)
first of all, we still haven't got a full story of the great fall, but I think it's something they'll reveal in this season, probably during confrontation with knives. and still no scar reveal!! I'm angy but it's something that could be relevant to the standoff with knives, hope we'll get it
the piano scene... oh we're eating GOOD, it's just so wholesome but goes to confirm my theory that twins weren't completely fine on the ship. vash feeling useless because he can't do cool plant shit, knives envying vash for being good at human shit.... oh it's great
so glad knives is getting proper characterization and not just "he evil because he evil"! the fear, the hurt, the genuine care for vash, but then frustration with him – it's right there and I'm eating it up so yummy
the way they recontextualized vash's arm loss is GORGEOUS! I've seen ppl reading this scene differently, but to me it was an act of care from naï. he looks really scared for a reason: we see that the gate consumed all matter, including the hand. vash couldn't control it, so it would only grow bigger and destroy him. NAÏ REALIZED THIS AND SAVED VASH THE ONLY WAY HE COULD
he didn't want to fight him, this was not an act of anger, like in previous versions. all he cared about in that moment was saving his twin..... and what did he get in return? a gun pointed to his face. a gun he gave vash to kill human scum. oh, the DRAMA
ahem, now to the less intense stuff
homeboy has so much trauma, like, damn... how is he gonna fit any more from his impending epic brother fight...... I'm quite curious on how they're gonna characterize him in the next season. concidering that we're taking off earlier than previous versions, he might end up with the same unhinged vibe 98' vash had, as a coping mechanism (if depression didn't work, try dissociation and silliness). but then it would be even more interesting to see meryl's and wolfwood's reactions: they knew him before the accident and saw the big sad
vash has sense in the prosthetic arm, so it must've hurt when he damaged it... probably it hurts less than the real one, and it's clearly painless to take off. but the hand seems to be rather sensitive and fic writers are gonna go crazy for this
age reveal! also brad and luida being in cryosleep makes sense, I was racking my brain on how they're still alive. seems like they're using much more plant power tho... both for cryo and the vegetation, while in manga they tried to keep it as low as possible and send signals to earth
saw someone say that they're probably not doing that here because the earth is destroyed... could be that they decided to go the hard way. but in the manga the earth was still fucked, and it wasn't clear if they communicated with the ppl left on the planet or the fleet that was in some new place. what I'm saying is, there is a possibility that they are looking for help in stampede, we just don't know it yet
meryl was so cute! go off, comedy relief goofy girl, while you can, there is more trauma coming your way :3 yeah, enjoy roberto calling you by your first name... oh it would be such a shame if he gave you his derringer before his untimely death..........
pretty weird that nobody knows why they fell on no man's land, but ppl probably were too ashamed of their past and 150 years later the new generation is oblivious. also so funny that luida has to explain what vegies are..... they have so many plants but haven't see any plants
tbh I wasn't expecting the zazie twist at all, but I'm excited! they are SO gender in stampede, might be the best redesign in the series, love me a genderless bug creature with bold fashion choices. really cool to see that storyline adapted, it was barely touched upon in the last volumes of trimax
btw the multiple bullets story about a plant, worm and human who went around figuring out if their species could coexist and just.... creating this foud family and then building a town there all were equal...... that's my favorite mb story for sure
wolfwood saying "I'm not your friend"... I know what you are. and we got a "you'll have to decide one day"... oh oh the misery, but the context was lacking. it just doesn't hit the same when he isn't daring vash to shoot him in the most homoerotic way possible. on and he looks so goofy trying to ride with his cross
in the last ep's rant I assumed that luida lied about rem saving everybody for some reason?? but no, she actually saved them, I just got a bit confused
so, as I predicted, the gang separated (tho not because of vash) and by the end of the next episode vash'll be in july and meet naï. the poster, man.... that gorgeous futuristic city is getting obliterated for sure
btw vash's gate being opposite to knives and sort of a black hole is nothing new. but there are new layers to this, like vash willingly giving away energy, but destroying things against his will, and knives with the opposite of this. ying yan twins go brrrr
#such a blast of an episode although the middle part on the seeds ship was kinda boring#stampede make more than one model for background chatecters challenge: impossible#every new episode is finding a new way to destroy me.... the season finale will be the death of me#trigun#trigun stampede#vash the stampede#meryl stryfe#millions knives#trigun spoilers#trigun stampede spoilers#wolfwood
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11? for the fic rec ask game :)
11: recommend your favorite fic!!
ok FAV is a hard choice but i will give two that i am obsessed with for different reasons and you all can choose
1) this one i cannot explain exactly why but it lives rent free in my head since i first read it senior year of high school. this was the first fic i bookmarked (i only have 7 bookmarks i'm a freak like that) like man i don't know what about this sticks with me so much but there's something so understatedly poetic about the language, it's so everyday but there's a power in so many of the lines (to me at least). dont blame me fanfic made me crazy if it doesnt you aint doing it right. whateva
2) girl you KNOW. yes kipperbees is wishful thinking but god i've been obsessed with this fic since chapter 1 it truly has some of the best characterization and canon-accurate dialogue i've seen in this fandom. i dream of writing subtle, meaningful dialogue like this. also i'm obsessed with any wlw ship of the button down/muscle shirt persuasion. why would you pit two bad bitches against each other when they could be making out
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Superbat Fic Recs
every superbat fic ive ever read has been recommended to me, almost, bc the superbat tag scares the absolute piss out of me, so these are like. twice over recommended. i dont believe that theres such a thing as "in character" when it comes to bruce or clark bc theyve been characterized so many different ways, so i tend to rate how good superbat fics are entirely by how delightful they are to read (plot, writing style, fun dynamic, etc). that said here are some of the superbat fics that i find the most delightful
The Long Hangover
by CoffioCake
Clark knows he should take a break: His powers are on the fritz, he feels like shit, and Batman’s treating him like a liability. But Gotham's villains seem to have it in for Metropolis' Big Blue Boy Scout and Clark won't just wait around for answers. Batman might be the world’s greatest detective, but Clark Kent is one of the Daily Planet’s most tenacious reporters.
This is definitely a job for Superman.
i love this one. its long but its got so many good beats- good plot, fun dialogue, fantastic levels of identity porn where you are just DYING for them to figure it out. i think a lot of superbat fics tend to prioritize batman and his family and cast too much, but this ones definitely about superman, which is a nice change of pace
Nor The Rain
by Romany (@romanyeva on tumblr)
Bruce decides it's time.
this ones short but its cute and so sweet. its been a while since i read it, but i remember loving the writing
Rescue and Recover
by OdosBucket
The bats have spent the better part of the past two months in captivity, and Clark is grateful to finally have them back, even if it will still be some time before any of them are recovered from the experience.
this one drove me CRAZY the first time i read it. i was so obsessed w the absolutely married dynamic bruce and clark have in this, and its good if you really like batfam whump
certain obscure things
by @liodain
Bruce seeks to mend in the wake of Superman's death.
Fortunately, Superman doesn't believe in staying dead. Unfortunately, Bruce isn't certain how to deal with this—especially with how easily Clark slots into his life. All he knows is that an encounter with the Enchantress is definitely not the way to go.
im not a synderverse fan but it remains that some of the best and most fun superbat fics to read are synderverse. love what the girlies are doing with those old men. this one is really fun, particularly in how it handles bruces grief and what its like to grieve someone who isnt gone
fame is the bait (and the switch is your desolate smile)
by nowrunalong (@buffyfemslash on tumblr)
"Superman,” Wayne says emphatically. "Now there’s an interesting guy. The concept of wealth probably doesn’t even register to an alien who could throw a whole skyscraper into the sea if he was in a snit.”
It’s almost hilariously ironic that Wayne is saying this here, in Clark’s place of employment, where Clark works ten-hour shifts to earn enough tip money to pay rent on a one-bedroom apartment.
“He’s gotta live somewhere,” Clark points out.
Or: Clark meets Bruce, and then Superman meets Bruce Wayne. Neither is entirely fooled.
speaking of synderverse. this ones also a lot of fun! its a lot of bruce being antagonistic in the beginning and clark being a total golden retriever, which is pretty on beat for the enemies to lovers type dynamic that i always see in synderverse fics.
I'm Not As Think As You Drunk I Am
by Mardiaz173
It was like living in the Twilight Zone. Everyone else believed fervently in Bruce Wayne’s reputation. He was a flirty, stupid, and entitled drunk whose only redeeming quality was his bleeding heart. And yet every time Clark spoke with Wayne, the man was clever, mischievous, and sober with an indecipherable ulterior motive.
And no one believed Clark. Not Lois, not his parents, not even Batman.
bruce is such a ridiculous ass in this and its kind of hilarious. identity porn galore. its a fun read!
Send to All
by kerosceene
I, ___________________________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”).
-
the bats have a sex pollen release form. because of course they do.
this ones really more batfamily and i just. listen. i think this is the funniest fic ever written, maybe. it makes me sob every single time. im not going to say anything else but you should just read it and trust me
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hi im eve and im new(-ish) around here :) my tags and such are below the cut for ease !
tags
drivers and associated people tagged by first and last initial (i.e. esteban is eo. unfortunately some people have the same initials, so los is logan and las is lance)
pairings tagged by car number, larger number first (i.e. lando/oscar is 8104, george/alex/lando is 632304, etc. pairings involving someone without their own number use initials instead i.e. lando/max f is 04mf)
mine - everything i've made/written/etc!
mine.ww - web weavings i've made
mine.vid - video edits i've made
mine.fic - fic i've written
mine.snip - snippets of fic i'm writing
mine.primer - deep dives i've done
art - fan art that im obsessed with (all of it)
ww - web weavings that make me Crazy
vid - video edits that make me feel things
fic rec - literally anything i've read that's brought even a modicum of joy
lore - old stuff unknown to me that i like to go back and look at. funny or interesting old facts, cute karting photos, primers, etc
meta - people's meta; sometimes fic/characterization related, sometimes real thoughts about contracts or whatever. but mostly fic/characterization related, tbh
f1 lb - live blogging races
neither created nor invented - my self indulgent hand tag, from a julio ramón ribeyro quote ("...we find only one tool, neither created nor invented, but perfect: the hand of man.")
where might have lived a world - my drivers being cute with kids tag, from the poem reprise by maya c. popa (“you were a child, and i will never have a child with you, that wasted tenderness where might have lived a world.”) except the full poem is kinda sad and that’s not the vibe. i just wanted a pretentious tag abt wanting kids i won’t lie
a whole block of dandelions - my wedding vibes tag, from the poem let’s get married by josé olivarez
follies and nonsense - regency vibes tag, from jane austen's pride and prejudice: "Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can."
queue turn towards meteor showers in august - queue tag! but im including it here because it's from the same poem my url is from (jane hirshfield's the falling) and i love talking about it and how i feel like it fits the f1 vibe. ("You turn towards meteor showers in August, wishing yourself like that: bright and burning wholly out.")
#sorry to ur dashes i wanted a pinned#i THINK that’s all my tags.#navi#i'll come back and add all signed up for the circus life when i add more posts to the tag lol
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Last Seen Blogs
screampied
COVER GYAL!
nataliaemm-blog
Мысли на ходу
baka-gou
bren
nine-inch-nymphs
dispatches from my bitchass
incorrectgazettequotes
Incorrect Gazette Quotes