#check the ao3 version for disclaimers
Text
Worth
John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader
Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.
Word Count: 3.0k
Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff
A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)
Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!
A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.
“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.
You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone.
You, of course, said yes.
Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.
“Good evening, Major!”
“Good evening, Major!”
You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.
“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”
“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.
“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.
“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.
“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”
“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.
You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.
“What? I was just trying to..!”
The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.
“Your friends seem nice.”
Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes.
“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.”
You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond.
“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word.
You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.
“You look beautiful.”
Another pause. “What?”
“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”
Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.
“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.
John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his.
You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.
✨
“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”
The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.
He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.
Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.
You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.
Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”
You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?”
Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.”
“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.
“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.
“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”
You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food.
By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption.
Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.
“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!”
You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing.
Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”
You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.
The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.
Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.
John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.
“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”
You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.
“No, no problem at all.”
Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”
You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind.
“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”
You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.
“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”
You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap.
“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”
The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.
“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”
The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.
“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”
Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.
Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.
As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,
“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”
You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.
“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”
You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.
“Sorry if I ruined the night.”
You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”
“Yep.”
“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”
“Oh, for sure.”
“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”
His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”
“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”
“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.
“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”
Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.
“My lady.”
You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves.
He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends.
The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.
“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.”
You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly.
“Really?”
You continue to sway.
“Yeah.”
You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”
He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.
“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.”
The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.
“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”
You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.
He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.
“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”
He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you.
“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”
You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.
“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.”
He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.
So, you close your eyes and take the leap.
Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.
A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.
After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted.
Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.
You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.
Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.
“You are most definitely worth it.”
#masters of the air#mota#mota fanfic#mota fanfiction#john egan x reader#bucky egan x reader#bucky egan fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky x you#john bucky egan x reader#john egan x female reader#john egan x oc#major john egan#masters of the air fanfiction#mota fic#bucky egan x oc#bucky egan x female reader#bucky fanfic#hbo war fandom#hbo war fanfic#curtis biddick#mota spoilers#hbo war oc#WWII era#jada writes sometimes#callum turner fic#callum turner fanfiction#callum turner x reader#callum turner imagine#john egan imagine
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Soft5ku11 D15c0rd Server (+ Masterpost)
Everything under the cut!
AI PROMPT TYPERS, POSTERS AND ENJOYERS GET OFF MY BLOG
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Disclaimer: No extreme sizes, vore, scat & piss (etc), mpreg or kink content depicting minors is allowed. 18+ ONLY.
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Alright, gonna be posting the translation stuff and other Mononoke-related stuff here going forward, anyway!
Got the second story from the Mononoke book translated and edited. Took me a while to get what this one was going for, and I think I still don't necessarily understand all of it even still, but is it really Mononoke if you're not sitting there staring at the screen like 'wtf' for at least some of it and going to need a few exposures before it really sinks in?
And if you haven't had a chance to check out the first story (Kamaitachi) and you would like to, you can find it here
So again, obligatory disclaimer that I don't own any of the rights to this book and this is just a fan translation done by someone making slow but steady progress in Japanese. You can buy a digital version of the raw version of the book on Bookwalker for $5 (i need to find the link for that again, but that's where I got it)
And then, for content warnings, let me know if I missed any big ones:
-Mentions of period-accurate pederasty
-Graphic depictions of violence
-Attempted ritual suicide
-Body horror
With all that being said, here's link to the translation below:
I also just want to check in, is sharing through Google docs generally accessible for everyone or would there be a better format to share it in? If I knew more about OTW policies on fan translations I would rather stick it on ao3, but since I don't and since this isn't fan fiction I'm playing it safe and not going that route for now, but if anyone's got suggestions for a more convenient way to share, I'd appreciate it
That's it from me for now, hope y'all enjoy :)
#mononoke#mononoke 2007#mononoke 2024#mononoke book#mononoke kusuriuri#mononoke medicine vendor#mononoke kamehime
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Nurse
Title: Nurse.
Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.
Ship: Steve Rogers X Nurse!Reader.
Word count: 298 words.
Square: B1 “Steve’s very long list of ailments.”
Rating: Teen.
Summary: You helped Steve to be chosen for the serum.
Major Tags: Fluff.
Additional tags: This my entry to @steverogersbingo Steve Rogers Bingo round 3. SB3090.
Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.
@saiyanprincessswanie
My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.
I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
Add yourself to my taglist here.
My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.
If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.
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Steve pretended he hadn't seen the list of all the ailments, so he omitted everything when he filled out the army form; somehow he was going to get in.
You took the form Steve had filled out and checked the notes you had taken. When he had been checked, you shook your head. Although he had seemed shy, under the guidelines, he was not suitable.
However, you remembered that Dr. Erskine had specifically asked you if Steve went to tell him immediately; he hadn't told anyone else but you, but it seemed that the doctor thought Steve was an excellent candidate for an experiment.
Although your experience as a nurse told you that it was not possible, when you saw his determination and that there were already too many attempts, maybe the doctor was right. So, you immediately went out to tell him. Erskine seemed very happy, and she immediately broke into a smile.
Weeks later
You finished filling out the report, and the next day they would apply the serum to Steve. Fortunately, you had to be involved in the whole process. There was something in that man that had captivated you, although a part of you feared that things would turn out badly.
“Steve greeted you; you looked up; you didn't even notice when he entered the infirmary.
“Hi, are you ready for the big day?" you asked.
“Not really," Steve replied sheepishly, then cleared his throat. "If all goes well, would you agree to go for a milkshake with me?"
Steve immediately looked down. He was sure you were going to turn him down, but you were actually surprised, and you smiled.
“Of course I would, but only if you put in the effort to endure the serum," you replied.
Steve had finally found motivation.
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Opening Line Patterns
I was tagged by @hamsteriffic who knows I can't back out of this shit and takes advantage of it 🤣
Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there's a pattern!
Disclaimer: I am only doing 10. I have like...over 50 on ao3, if I remember correctly. Might be 54?
Update: Just checked. It's 55.
Starting with most recent and working backwards.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54263350
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54122218
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54120739
https://archiveofourown.org/works/53962846
https://archiveofourown.org/works/53857636
https://archiveofourown.org/works/53727919
https://archiveofourown.org/works/53684290
https://archiveofourown.org/works/53408350
https://archiveofourown.org/works/53045695
https://archiveofourown.org/works/51707740
(If those don't line up right, blame tumblr for not wanting to accept my formatting on a post when I can do it on a page with no issue 🙄)
(It also gave me a 10 image limit on mobile so good thing my laptop was open for the last one🤣)
(Oh, and the pictures should link to the fics the quotes are from 🥰)
Update: they do link, just not on mobile. Only the desktop version 🙄 I'll add them in as text later
Update 2: DONE
What a pain in the ass 🙄🙄🙄 (I'm still on mobile, if that explains anything)
(OH, ALSO PLEASE IGNORE THE CREEPYASS FUCKING EMOJI. IT'S SAMSUNG ONEUI6'S FAULT)
Tagging (with no pressure) @queenkaiju @writer-rider-dirty-thirties @boldlyanxious @izanae @littlemourningstar and anyone else who wants to participate!
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Here, Kitty, Kitty (18+ Fic)
Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader
Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.
Story Warnings: Smutty smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: Thank you all so, so, soooo much for the love on this story! I'll be writing some brand new shit soon! Stay safe! -Jazz
Read on AO3 here!
Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.
*************
THIRTEEN.
The first thing that wakes you up is a slew of body aches.
And these aren’t the kind of body aches one gets from sitting too long or going too hard with the cardio the day before. These are excruciating aches that make you moan in pain, feeling like someone is running you over again and again with a monster truck. ‘What the hell?’ you think as sleep begins to clear.
When your eyes slowly open, you squint at the blinding sunlight peeking through the curtains, shining right in your face. Instinctively, you raise your hand to block the blinding sun rays. And then you stop.
For a moment, you stare at your hand for a moment, carefully examining your fingers, painted nails, knuckles, and the fine skin covering them. No paw pads. No claws. No black fur. ‘No,’ you think as your heart plummets. ‘There’s no way…’
When you go to raise your head and stretch your legs out, you are shocked and absolutely horrified to find that your legs aren’t those of a furry feline, but those of a human. To make matters even worse and more of a horror movie for you, you also find yourself trapped underneath the big, buff, fine-haired arm of your co-worker. ‘Oh, shit!’ you think in panic. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’
Aizawa is knocked out and twisted around to face you, his handsome face serene and positively peaceful in his slumber. On the other side lies little Eri in her ice cream cone-printed PJs, her back to you. Aizawa’s shoulder-length hair cascades across the couch cushion in waves of beautiful, black locks, making him look almost like another version of Sleeping Beauty to you. As if it is your duty to kiss him awake.
You don’t have enough time to admire his beauty due to the severity of the situation. You’re in your human form. In your coworker and crush’s dorm. How or why you transformed out of your cat form without you feeling any of it through the night, you have no idea. But all you know is that you need to get the fuck out of here.
Suddenly, Aizawa lets out a tiny moan from beside you. Holding your breath as panic sparks inside of you, you look over at his face and check for any signs of him waking up. You still for a moment, waiting for his eyes to flutter open or for him to begin stirring. Nothing happens. As quickly and as quietly as you possibly can, you hold your breath and slowly, ever so slowly, slip out from underneath his arm. He doesn’t make a sound.
Once you’re out by the grace of God without waking him, you quickly scramble behind the couch. You press yourself against the couch, doing your best to calm your rapid breathing. You have to leave. You have to get out of here. You close your eyes and attempt to activate your quirk, envisioning yourself in your cat form in an effort to jump-start your transformation.
‘C’mon, c’mon!’ you think, digging your nails into the floor. Nothing happens. Your human form stays, your body aching and exhausted.
Your heart hammers against your chest and confusion fog your mind, a fresh anxiety attack taking full effect. How did this happen? How did you not feel anything in the night that signaled your transformation? Usually, you feel those body tingles that cause you to leave during the night, but none of that happened. You slept soundly, and that concerns you greatly.
Maybe you were so deep in your sleep that your form just couldn’t hold on anymore and you slipped out of it without your mind processing it during your slumber. You had exhausted your quirk.
‘Dammit!’ you think, angered at yourself. You thought you were getting better with this. You thought you had mastered your quirk. Perhaps you have, but something about being in Aizawa’s dorm weakened you. Not to mention sleeping next to him–feeling his warm skin against your fur; his hard body shielding your smaller one; his fingers stroking your back and ears as his scent curls around your senses. He relaxes you. He strips you of your defenses.
The sound of a soft groan suddenly silences your thoughts. Your ears perk up high on your head and point behind you in the direction of the sound. It is masculine, deep, and no doubt Aizawa’s. When the sounds of the couch springs fill the air as the sleeping giant rises from his slumber, panic blooms inside of you. You’re doomed. He’s going to find you and then he’ll never talk to you again.
Aizawa lets out a yawn before the sound of his phone ringing permeates the air, the ring set to the theme of “Renai Circulation”. If you weren’t about to shit yourself from getting caught, you’d laugh. Another soft, sleepy moan fills the air, this one coming from Eri.
“Sorry, puddin’,” Aizawa coos from above you. “C’mon, you’ve got an hour left.” You’re not sure what time it is, but if this is around the time Aizawa starts getting ready for work then you need to move fast.
You hear the couch springs bounce again as Aizawa picks Eri up, shushing her sleepy groans of protest. The sound of his feet padding across the hardwood floor make your heart beat faster, anticipating him hearing it and looking behind the couch to see you. Luckily, that doesn’t happen. His footsteps momentarily disappear into Eri’s bedroom. Still crouched behind the couch, your hamstrings begin to burn from being stuck in one place, but you don’t dare move. Not until you’re sure you’re in the clear.
Your gut proves you right when Aizawa’s phone begins to ring again and he reemerges from Eri’s bedroom to grab his phone. The sheer sound of the beloved anime song ends when he answers the call. “Aizawa,” he gruffly says, sounding like he has no time for the BS. “Yeah,” he tells whoever it is on the phone. “I’m ‘bout to get dressed. I’ve got class in an hour. Hold up a second.”
He stands near the couch for a while, not talking anymore. You can only wonder what he’s doing as you crouch behind the couch, hamstrings begging for release and your blood pumping in your ears. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to silence your breathing. All the times your quirk could’ve fucked you over, it chooses right now?
“Disarmed,” the robotic voice of a woman says overhead, signaling the disarming of Aizawa’s security alarm. “Yeah, I’m back,” he says into the phone. “Just turnin’ off the alarm.” You could’ve laughed with joy. You hear the footsteps thud across the floorboards as he walks over to the right side of the room, disappearing into his bedroom. His bedroom door creaks shut, muffling his voice.
Slowly, you peek from behind the couch, finding the door completely closed. Quickly, you pop up from behind the couch and race to the window. You push it open, letting the sunlight and early morning spring breeze hit you in the face. Below is only a dumpster and before it lies the cut, green lawn of the UA campus.
“Fuck it,” you growl determinedly. Taking hold of the window, you climb up onto the ledge and crouch there for a moment, listening for the sound of a door opening or footsteps. There is nothing.
Without another moment of hesitation, you leap from the window and drop right into the dumpster below.
Thank God you took off for today.
You’re especially thankful for your smarts when a horrid smell permeates from the trashbags that break your fall. You retch at the aroma of rotten food and whatever the hell else fills your sensitive nose, covering your mouth to avoid vomiting. You don’t have enough time to recover though when you hear Aizawa approach the window. “Da hell?” you hear him mutter questionably to himself.
Quickly, you jump out of the dumpster and crouch beside it. You peek up at him, finding his head poking out of the window. His tired eyes search the perimeter of the dumpster, brushing right passed you crouched in the darkness. “Daddy?” a tiny voice mews from the dorm. He looks behind him before disappearing back into his dorm. “Go back to bed, puddin’,” he tells Eri, his tone soft and loving. “It’s just the trash men.”
As soon as the window shuts, you sigh in relief, releasing the breath you were holding. You rise to your feet, groaning softly at the pain in your legs. You give yourself some time to recover from your humiliating fall before slowly making your way around the building to your dorm, arms wrapped tightly around yourself and feeling paranoid that someone may see you. However, no one does.
You instead opt to use the front doors to the building instead of climbing the tree to your window, using your school ID number to punch into the passcode to open the doors. The lobby is empty and the security guard at the front desk is asleep, his snores permeating the air. You zoom past him, heading for the elevators, and get one with no problem.
When you’re finally on your floor, you make a beeline for your door, take the key from under your welcome mat, and unlock it to your empty and welcoming dorm room. As soon as you’re inside, you slowly walk to your bathroom. You need to get the stench of garbage and shame off of you.
After taking a much-needed hot shower with as much soap as you can squirt into your hand to scrub off the germs and dirt you believe are soaked into your skin and hair from the dumpster, thanking God that once again that you decided to take off today, you wrap yourself in your fluffy robe and take a seat on your toilet where you begin to decompress.
And regret your life’s choices leading up to this moment. You deeply exhale, releasing all of the tension that was held in your body during your escape from Aizawa’s dorm. The realization that things could’ve gotten way differently for you hits you and you feel more and more like shit.
‘Karma’s a bitch,’ your intrusive thoughts hiss at you. ‘You’ve become selfish and now look at you; wallowing in dumpster n’ shit.’
Your head hangs heavy as a headache blooms in your skull from the stress. It’s not even the dumpster part that has you–it’s the fact that you were stuck in Aizawa’s dorm, cut off from any possible escape. If things were different and he had caught you, he probably would’ve never spoken to you again. The idea of it makes a lump form in your throat and your bottom lip wobble. All of this just to get closer to him? How did you ever get so low?
Your self-loathing is interrupted when there is a sudden knock on your door. “Darling!” Nemuri calls through the door. You sigh, running your hands down your face. You really didn’t want any visitors today. Despite yourself, you drag yourself out of the bathroom to answer the door. When you do, Nemuri stands there wearing a purple sundress and a denim jacket paired with some flats, looking like an absolute babe.
“Hey, you,” she greets. “Damn, you look like you’ve been through hell last night.” She smirks at you suggestively. “Shouta have you up late?”
Obviously, she isn’t reading the irked expression on your face or the tight line of your lips. “More like this morning,” you grumble. “And no, it has nothing to do with Shouta. What are you doing here anyhow?”
Nemuri’s smile fades, replaced with a confused scowl. “We planned for breakfast this morning, remember? It was your day off, so you said you had time for a date. Plus, you told me you’d tell me all about your and Shouta’s date last night.”
Realization floods inside of you, taking you back to your agreement yesterday during your lunch break. “Oh, shit!” you gasp, slapping a hand on your forehead. “I’m so sorry, ‘Muri. I totally forgot. I’ve been out all night and things got so crazy this morning.”
Nemuri peers at you, a wrinkle between her brown. “I can see it under those eyes,” she says with a frown. “Sounds to me like the date didn’t go well. Should I go and give that man a piece of my mind?” At the mention of Aizawa, you wince. You really don’t want to talk about this, but you also know Nemuri won’t let it go.
“No, you shouldn’t,” you defeatedly sigh, “because the date never happened.” As expected, Nemuri’s eyes widen in shock. “What?!” she exclaims as she pushes you into your room and slams the door behind her. “What happened?” she demands. At your ashamed expression, her eyes turn serious. “Y/N, please don’t tell me you were out as Night Claw last night,” she groans. “You stood Shouta up just to kick some ass?”
“No!” you scoff, irked at the accusation. “I’d never do that because I’m not a bitch! I made sure I sent him a voicemail before I went out last night. There was a bank robbery, Nemuri. I had to go.”
“No, you didn’t!��� she argues, sounding extremely angered at your decision. You don’t even want to imagine how she’d react if she knew where you really were after coming back to the dorms, looking so tired and down in the dumps this morning. “There are plenty of highly equipped pros in this city that are more suitable and prepared for those types of crimes. Leave it to them, Y/N. That isn’t up to you.”
Though she is right, your pride gets the best of you. You can feel a hiss coming on. “So you’re sayin’ I’m neither equipped, suitable, nor prepared for street crimes because I’m not a “real” hero?” you snap. “Just because I didn’t graduate from UA and don’t have a license doesn’t mean I’m any less of a good crime fighter, Nemuri.”
Nemuri’s eyes widen at your words, the sting of hurt beneath them. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she softly sighs. “I’m sorry. I just meant that your job starts with the kids at UA. Not to fight on the streets every night when you don’t have to. Just look at you!”
Her hands move to motion over your body, your robe covering the rest of your bruises. You hug yourself tightly, trying to shield yourself from her caring, worried eyes. “I’m just scared you’re going to let your life pass you by and never take advantage of the opportunities in front of you because of your hobby, Y/N.” She takes your hand in hers, squeezing it. “You deserve a guy like Shouta. I just don’t want you to ruin this for either of you.”
And finally, the lump in your throat becomes too much and you start to cry. As you do, Nemuri immediately comes to your aid and wraps her arms around you, holding you close. “Fuck!” you sob into her shoulder. “I really am ruining this for myself, aren’t I? I’m gonna fuck this up because of this stupid hero shit.”
“It’s not stupid,” Nemuri protests sternly. “You are an amazing hero, Y/N; with or without a license. You don’t need a little piece of paper to prove that you’re worthy of fighting crime and helping others.” Though her words feel good to you, they do nothing to soothe the shitty feeling that is currently enveloping you.
Nemuri pulls away to look at you, her gaze soft but serious. “But if you’re going to do that then Shouta should know the truth about why you didn’t come to your date last night. Or at least an apology. He’ll find out eventually, especially if you start dating him.”
You sigh, wiping your tears away. “You’re right,” you agree defeatedly. “I need to apologize to him.” But after some food and much-needed alcohol to make you feel less like you just stepped knee-deep in shit. “I could really use a mimosa right now,” you groan in need.
Nemuri quirks a smile. “Breakfast date?” She drops her arms from yours and you make your way to your bedroom to get dressed while she waits on your couch.
***********
After gathering courage from the two mimosas you consumed at breakfast and a pep-talk in your bedroom room mirror, you finally text Aizawa.
It is hours after you left Nemuri to venture back to your dorm where you now sit, typing out a message to Aizawa despite your trembling fingers:
You: Hey…I’m so sorry about last night. Can we maybe meet for lunch? My treat, wherever u want
*Read at 11:55 PM
Ten minutes later, he shoots you a text back, much to your surprise:
Shouta: Sorry I was talking to a student. I’ve got lunch in an hour. Meet at the ramen place
*Read at 12:05 PM
You: U got it!
*Read at 12:07 PM
You let out a sigh of relief as you fall back onto your bed, your phone held close to your chest. You can’t believe your luck! This means now you’ll most certainly have to woman the fuck up and face Aizawa head-on. Nemuri is right: he deserves this much. So after picking out a cute little sundress and applying some lip gloss to at least look decent, making sure you get the ramen place directions right, and ordering yourself a Lyft, you meet Aizawa an hour later for lunch.
The restaurant is very homely and small, but obviously, the place is popular judging by the number of people filling the booths and tables. You stand at the doors to the establishment in your sundress and flats, clutching the strap to your crossbody purse. You begin to slip out your phone to text Aizawa that you’re here, but a whistle on your left stops you.
You turn, finding Aizawa sitting at the booth closest to you near the window. Behind him are framed pictures, most of whom are pro heroes that visited the restaurant over the years. He is nursing a glass of iced water and a paper menu, his eyes set dead on you.
You suddenly feel hot despite the sundress you’re wearing. After taking a deep breath, you walk up to the table and try to appear confident, but when you speak, your voice betrays you. “Hi,” you weakly say before clearing your throat. “Thanks for meeting me on your lunch.”
Aizawa hums in acknowledgment as you sit down across from him. He’s still in his jumpsuit and scarves from work today but still looks hot as fuck. You try to hide your flustered expression behind your menu, hoping glancing over at the choices of lunch specials will help you get your shit together. You don’t have to do it for long though because a tall man with salt and peppered hair and a fluffy beard comes up to your table.
“Ah, welcome!” he says cheerfully as he pours you some iced water. “My name is Tarou. I’m the owner of this place. Shouta, who is this beautiful lady accompanying you on your lunch for the first time?” Aizawa hides his reddened face inside of his scarves, making you soft giggle to yourself at his cuteness. “I’m a friend of Shouta’s, Y/N,” you say to Taroy, shaking his hand. “I work at UA with him.”
“Then you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Tarou jokes with a throaty chuckle. “Nothing like some good ramen to take the load off. So what can I get you two lovebirds?” At Aizawa’s groan of embarrassment, he quickly corrects himself. “Oh, apologies! I mean friends.” He gives you a wink despite Aizawa looking like he wants to die.
Aizawa orders “the usual” which is just regular miso ramen while you go for the mildly spicy miso ramen with extra egg (since you’re planning on paying). After fetching your other drinks (you opt for a passion fruit iced tea while Aizawa sticks with the water), Taoru goes to whip you up your lunch.
For a few minutes that feel like a whole eternity, you and Aizawa sit in extremely uncomfortable and tense silence. You don’t look at each other, instead staring outside or at your hands. Anywhere but into each other’s eyes. You’re burning for him to say something first but you know you’ll have to be the one to break the ice first. After all, you called him here.
So after a sip of water and gathering all of your self-confidence, you speak. “I’m so sorry about last night, Shouta,” you begin, earning his attention. His eyes meet yours, nearly rendering you speechless by their intensity, but you persevere. He deserves this. “I know I’m jumping straight into it here,” you sigh, “but I can’t keep this guilt in. It’s eating me alive! I feel terrible about last night and believe me, I wanted to meet you, but…”
You look down at your hands, folding them on the table to give them something to do. And to come up with a decent lie. Though your conscious is telling you differently, you know you can’t tell him why you didn’t come last night. He’d never speak to you again. Not to mention you’d probably lose your job.
“I got caught up in a call with one of the UA students’ parents who were upset over her behavior and it didn’t end well,” you say after quickly deciding on a lie to consider to be believable.
You go on to explain yourself further, but Aizawa puts up a hand to silence you. “You don’t have to go into details. I don’t even think you can do that as a counselor.”
You quirk a small smile. “I can’t, but I at least wanted to give you context,” you sheepishly reply. “I was dressed and ready to meet you, but after the call lasted for more than ten minutes, I knew I couldn’t. I–”
“Stop,” Aizawa firmly says. You button your lip, your ears flattening slightly at his strong tone. However, his eyes are soft and understanding–all of which you know you don’t deserve. “You have nothing to apologize for. I would’ve been even more upset if you didn’t try to call. Plus, you meeting me out here to talk to me about it helps too.”
Your ears perk up at his words, your tail embarrassingly straight and high due to the utter joy you feel. “So…we’re friends again?” you breathlessly ask.
Aizawa gives you a crooked smile, reminding you of a younger version of himself. “Y/N, we were always friends,” he chuckles. “But this proves to me how good of a person you are. So yes, apology accepted.”
You swear you could leap over the table and kiss him silly. How can a man be this compassionate and forgiving, especially to someone like you? Someone who keeps secrets and sneaks around? What did you to be blessed with him?
Someone clearing your throat makes you both startle, seeing Tarou suddenly standing at the table with two steaming bowls of ramen. “Don’t mind me!” he chirps with a wide, knowing grin. “Just bringing you your meals!”
“Thank you,” you giggle, your stomach grumbling at the scent of the broth. “You have such a cozy little restaurant, Mr. Tarou. So many pictures too.” Your eyes admire the walls behind Aizawa, examining each framed photo of pro heroes standing with the owner. You gasp when your eyes land on the familiar, muscular blonde standing with Tarou, both showing off their biceps. “You met All Might?!” you gasp in shock.
“Please, just call me Tarou,” the owner chuckles, a prideful glint in his eyes. “And yes, I did. I named one of my dishes after him. But even that isn’t my prized possession on these walls.” He moves to the wall and takes one of the pictures down, showing it to you. “This right here is.”
You look down at the photo dated, finding three young men sitting at a table with three bowls of ramen. You recognize one of them as Mic with a big grin on his face while a youthful, black-haired boy sits next to him, looking pissed that he’s in the photo. As soon as you recognize those familiar tired eyes, you coo in adoration. “Is that you?” you squeal endearingly at Aizawa. “Oh, my God, look at you! You’re a fetus!”
Aizawa hides his face behind his hand, blushing with embarrassment. Tarou laughs heartedly, clapping a hand on the pro’s back. “That’s from his UA days. You wouldn’t believe how short he was back then.”
“Tarou!” Aizawa growls, the flush overtaking his cheeks growing profusely. Tarou lets out another bark of laughter before escaping behind the front desk to avoid Aizawa strangling him.
Your finger presses against Mic who still had that tall hair and glasses. “So that’s Mic…and this is…” Your finger trails over to where an unfamiliar boy sits across from Aizawa and Mic, laughing hard with his hand on his stomach. He is a handsome young man with tanned skin, a bandage on his nose, and stark white hair that reminds you of a cloud. You can feel his bright attitude even through the photo, picturing him as a lovely boy whoever it is.
“Who’s this?” you ask curiously. When you turn to Aizawa, he is already staring at the photo and his expression is somewhat somber. “That’s Oboro,” he replies, his voice a tad softer. “He was a friend of mine in UA.”
“Are you still friends now?” you ask, not picking up on his reaction at all. “Is he a pro hero?” Aziawa’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as swallows, still staring at the photo longingly. “No,” he faintly answers, albeit rather slowly, as if he’s afraid of saying anything at all. “He, um…he passed. A long time ago.”
Your heart drops at his words. “Oh, Shouta,” you softly gasp, “I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve never said anything.” Your ears droop, ashamed of yourself, but Aizawa shakes his head. “You didn’t know. Not many know except Mic.”
He continues to stare in silence at the photo, his eyes trained on Oboro’s face. You can’t quite identify his blank expression, but you can tell by his reaction that Oboro meant a lot to him. You wonder briefly if Aizawa was different back when he was young. Was he just as vibrant and full of life as this Oboro was? Did Oboro’s death steal all of that away?
In that moment, you don’t care whether or not your relationship with Aizawa reaches something romantic. Though you want something more, you’re also happy just being his friend. More than anything, you just want him happy and you want to be part of that happiness. Unable to leave him like this, you slide your hand across the table and cover his hand with yours.
He never moves it away, but he looks surprised by your action. “Thank you for telling me,” you softly say. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore, okay?” You offer him a comforting smile.
Aizawa smiles back, turning his hand upward so he can lace his fingers with yours. “Okay,” he replies.
And so begins your friendship.
#shouta aizawa#shoutaaa#smutty smut#my fic shit#my works#here kitty kitty#bnha smut#black coded reader#black fanfic writer#black writers#aizawa x black!reader#shouta aizawa x black!reader
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Hey, just saw your fic with Maric x Serving Girl Alistair's Mother. I read your author's notes on Ao3, and were you hinting at conflicting information on Alistair's mother's identity? Or is my tired brain misinterpreting? I'm all for writing whatever you want, go nuts, no problem with the fic. But this peaked my interest, because I've never heard of anything disputing Fiona, given 'The Calling' novel. Does it have to do with there being no acknowledgement in DAI if you have Alistair and Fiona at Skyhold at the same time? Any information or clarification you provide would be appreciated. I always loved Maric.
Hi Nonny! This has consumed my entire evening and I hope you’re prepared for the splurge about to be unleashed. Thank you for the ask! The disclaimer at the top of the fic is there because historically the subject of Alistair’s mother has been a… charged subject, for reasons that I won’t get into now because it’s not really relevant to your ask and I don’t have a horse in that specific race.
However, if you look into canon, there is indeed a bunch of conflicting information about the identity of Alistair’s mother – or rather, there’s a bunch of information that conflicts with the Word of God confirmation from David Gaider that Fiona is Alistair’s mother. Which… is also not exactly true. In an interview from 2014 when asked specifically about it, he said (after a long, weary sigh), “I never actually meant for it to be a thing … I thought the book was fairly obvious and then people were asking and I just never confirmed it … it comes up in the game and I will leave it at that” (timestamp starting 35:28 if you want to check it out yourself). Thing is, it doesn’t come up in the game, either in DA:O or in DA:I – which may be the game he’s referring to, since the interview is mostly to hype its release. It isn’t clear.
We do come close to getting in-game evidence for Fiona: in DA:I, the Inquisitor can ask her about her past, and if you read between the lines there is wistfulness there, and she’s sorry he dies, but her comments about it being “too late” to know him could just as easily be taken as being about her time as a Grey Warden if you haven’t read The Calling (TC) – she never comes out and directly says it, and we never witness a conversation between them, even if he’s a Warden presumably curious about how she became immune to the Calling (I have thoughts about this, but we’ll get to that later). In the DA:O end slides, it says someone orders an investigation into Alistair’s parentage that comes back “inconclusive” – but even without the dubious canon of the end slides (given that some, like Cullen’s, got heavily retconned in later games) this is a shaky piece of evidence at best that Alistair’s mother was anyone other than a servant. An inquest is politically motivated, after all, and would have been more concerned with his connection to Maric than the identity of his mother.
So where does this leave us? Well, we could go in circles debating what should count as canon or not, which isn’t entirely useful because people can draw lines in the sand wherever they like to make the points they want. We could argue that BioWare is really good at retconning and muddling its own lore and that the simplest explanation – that the devs made a mistake in some of the details and no one caught it – is the most likely, and that caring about it more than Gaider obviously does (with his well-known dislike of Alistair as a character) is kind of a waste of time.
Unfortunately, you’ve asked me about it, so what we’re actually going to do is go through every relevant piece of Dragon Age media, assume it is all canon, and weigh the evidence in the text to try and offer some clarification. Where things contradict, I will give more weight to the version that targets the broadest possible audience, i.e. the games > the books and novels. Where things contradict within the games, I’ll be considering which source of information is more authentic and direct within the game’s context, i.e. Alistair should know more about his history than a tavernkeep who’s listening to rumours.
Having said this, let’s start with TC, where all of our problems begin. In the last scene of this book, Fiona introduces Maric to a baby she says is theirs, and asks him to find it a home where it can be free of the stigmas of being the child of an elven mage. Fair enough. However, as conspiracy-brained as this is going to sound, there is no direct evidence to confirm that this baby is Alistair, and one or two things that suggest it isn’t. I’m not so shallow in my literary analysis that I count the fact that the baby is never named as one of those pieces of evidence. That would just be petty. Far more compelling is:
Timing: TC is set after Queen Rowan’s death. There’s some quibble about dates in World of Thedas and whether it was supposed to be set in 9:10 or 9:14 bur really that’s a numbers game and it’s beside the point, because it’s built into the plot that Maric decides to go with the Grey Wardens specifically because he’s feeling depressed and reckless through grief for Rowan. This is important because, as gets mentioned quite a few times in DA:O, Alistair was hidden in Redcliffe because Rowan was still alive. This is a conflict of information, and as already stated, games > novels.
There’s no amulet: Giving Alistair his mother’s amulet is a pretty significant moment in DA:O. It’s all he has of hers, and it’s something that ties them together narratively. If this was all meant to wrap up neatly, then the least Gaider could have done would have been to mention Fiona taking off her Andrastian amulet and gifting it to Alistair to be something of hers he can keep even when she’s not with him anymore. The fact that this doesn’t happen makes this scene emotionally empty when we know he got an amulet from a person whom he considered to be his mother. If not Fiona, then where did it come from?
'“He’s human,” [Maric] exclaimed out loud': if there’s one thing a lot of DA fans can agree on, it’s that “human/elf hybrids are totally human” is bullshit. It’s not how genetics works, it has some yikes implications considering how heavily the devs took inspiration from oppressed minorities to create the elves, and it’s not a plot point that’s ever used in an interesting way (we will get to Michel de Chevin in a moment). It’s also not true. In DA2 there is an entire series of quests about a character named Feynriel, who was born to a Dalish mother and a human father, and who is visibly part-elven. He has points on his ears! He has facial proportions halfway between the humans and elves in the game! He’s rejected by both sides of his family because of it! Now, there is also Michel de Chevin, who in The Masked Empire (TME) is revealed to have an elven mother, but this is never mentioned when he appears in DA:I, and is kind of a non-issue in the novel as well. This is the most nebulous piece of evidence by far, as it relies by default on picking which bits of material are canon, which I've already said we’re not doing here, and to be honest the physical differences between elves and humans are only really noticeable in DA2 where there was an effort made to make them look deliberately nonhuman.
Except for the timeline of the book, the evidence in TC is circumstantial. We get to more definite evidence in Until We Sleep (UWS), the third volume in The Silent Grove comics storyline, where Alistair gets to meet and talk with a dream version of his father, Maric. When Alistair asks his father to come home, Maric says, “I had a life. The people I love are all here – Cailan, your mother, Loghain… none of them are in the real world any longer, are they?” (A+ parenting there btw). Since this series takes place before DA:I, Fiona is definitely still alive, so Maric can’t be talking about her. Also, it’s interesting to note that this too is written by David Gaider, so it’s not a case of writers being at cross-purposes or not getting any intra-office memos. There are continuity mistakes in these comics, but these are mostly confined to the fact that neither Alistair nor Isabella match their in-game appearances – and remember, the games have more weight than the comics. Having said that, it does conflict with the "official" story.
With all this said, let’s come to the other beginning of all our problems, most people’s proper introduction to Alistair’s character, DA:O. In this game, it is a significant plot point that Alistair is the son of a servant from Redcliffe: it is explicitly stated in Alistair’s codex entry, and furthermore, it is something that multiple characters assert is true, including Loghain and Alistair himself.
First, Loghain. If you spare him at the Landsmeet, he joins your party and has dialogue options that talk about Alistair and why he was kept at Redcliffe. According to him, Maric nearly acknowledged Alistair, but “had more than his honour to think of”, namely the effect it would have had on Rowan and Cailan (implied: how that would have affected political stability in a Ferelden still recovering from the Orlesian Occupation). He points out that Alistair "would have been a continual reminder to Rowan of Maric’s infidelity”, which as mentioned above, means that she would have still been alive when Alistair was born.
As for Alistair, yes he was a baby at the time so doesn’t really have an objective viewpoint, and it’s not confirmed whether the person he considers his mother died in childbirth or just in his early years – the codex entry says “when he was young”, he says “when I was born”. Nevertheless, it’s clear he’s asked questions about her because he knows roughly who she was and what she did, and also at some point learnt the name and rough location of the person his entire companion quest (and Fade dream) revolves around.
Let’s talk about Goldana.
Really, she is the biggest wrench in the certainty that Fiona is Alistair’s mother, because there’s no way to square away that fact with her existence, and by extension the existence of the servant in Redcliffe who was her (and Alistair’s) mother. But what if she’s just an exceptional liar, thinking she could make a quick sovereign out of the king’s bastard by playing along? It’s possible. However:
When you take Alistair to meet her, she’s the one who brings up Maric (“I said the babe was the king’s, and they told me he was dead, and gave me a coin to shut my mouth”) – Alistair until that point has only mentioned his mother and that she worked in Redcliffe Castle. If she was hedging her bets, wouldn’t it make more sense for her to accuse him of being Eamon’s bastard?
If she were talking nonsense, why would “they” bribe her with hush money? It would be very easy for someone as powerful as Arl Eamon to dismiss or debunk such claims, and he shouldn’t care what a random servant’s kid has to say – unless there’s a kernel of truth in it that he doesn’t want anyone looking at more closely
On that same note, why would “they” tell her the baby was dead if it wasn’t, if it was just some random’s kid? Either there’s an entirely separate baby that Goldana believes for some mysterious reason was fathered by the king, which Alistair – actually fathered by the king – replaced at just the right age that nobody noticed, or they’re the same baby. One of these options is far more plausible than the other
If she’s that good at lying, why is she still just a washerwoman living in a hovel and asking three copper per load? She should be running Denerim!
Facetiousness aside, Goldana’s story confirms that at the very least there was a serving girl in Redcliffe Castle who had a baby at roughly the same time that Alistair was born, and that for whatever reason, she was connected enough to Maric that multiple people in the castle suspected he was the father (and resented Alistair because of it). If this was an entirely separate baby, then it makes Maric an absolute shit of a person to have taken one son and used him to replace one that had just died in childbirth. Either that or a complete idiot for sending his actual son to a place where he’s rumoured to have a son and deciding that’s a secure hiding place – because you can’t tell me Eamon wasn’t aware of what was going on under his own roof. Even the fact that Alistair himself knows and was aware of it from a young age suggests that it wasn’t a very well-kept secret.
So where does all this leave us? From here, things get a little more suppositional, a little more Doylist, and a lot more subjective. To start with, taking into account all of the above evidence, if Fiona is Alistair’s mother, then his arrival at Redcliffe relies on a – I would say – plot-breaking set of contrivances.
1: Fiona, somehow cured of the darkspawn taint enough to have a child, arrives in Denerim with Alistair, who isn’t old enough to be weaned yet, asking for somewhere to put him that won’t draw attention. She does this after walking pretty much all the way across Thedas even though, as mentioned in TC, the Wardens already have procedures in place for fostering children born to their ranks, presumably ones that don’t involve so much steady exercise.
2: Instead of using his kingly resources to track down a woman in Denerim who has recently given birth and telling her to take on an extra kid, Maric decides to send the baby to the other end of the country, to the house of an unmarried nobleman who will definitely not stir any gossip if he shows up on his own doorstep with an infant he wants someone to care for. Where did the baby come from? Don’t ask. Are you happy that everyone will think this kid is your bastard? I’m sure it’s a decision that won’t have any negative consequences for me in the future. But you are going to tell everyone he’s your bastard to keep up the ruse, right? No, now stop asking questions.
2: Luckily, there’s a woman in Eamon’s household who has recently given birth, or is at least close to it, and they can substitute? add? this baby to that baby without having to pay her off, because she’s an employee. The bait ‘n’ switch is timed so perfectly that no one notices that there are in fact two babies, or that the baby is suddenly several months older than it was before (truly, a medical miracle). Unless they’re exactly the same age, in which case what are the odds.
3: Somehow, despite all the secrecy, this woman’s other child knows that the baby is the king’s and won’t shut up about it, to the point where someone has to pay her off and send her packing. But that’s all unnecessary, because the woman – and her original baby I guess? – both die and leave no witnesses.
4: Rowan still manages to be mad about this and everyone is worried for her reputation despite having been dead for two years.
It’s a level of convolution that does not exist with the alternative, which has been pretty common since forever in the real world: powerful man sees pretty woman, decides he’ll have that, doesn’t want to face the consequences, makes everyone miserable in the process. Alistair’s mother being an ordinary person caught up in the orbit of someone she can’t resist is so much more narratively coherent, if significantly less romantic.
And this is where we get into the biggest problem that I have with Fiona-as-Alistair’s-mother: it has no payoff. These are fictional people, structure is important for narrative, and while I’m not saying that every little thing has to have purpose or direction, a pretty significant amount of Alistair’s character arc in DA:O is wiped away if his mother isn’t who he thinks it is. His story is about social class and identity and whether legacy is even worth it: Fiona’s identity means nothing to him, and that’s not something that ever changes. In DA:I she looks a bit sad when she mentions him, but there’s no work ever done to explore that, or to explore how Alistair might feel if his mother is actually alive but abandoned him, and how awkward that makes things for him if he’s king. OR to have him hear that she’s now immune to the taint and be just a little bit curious about how that came about. There’s no conversation, no status quo shift. Instead, the devs rely on the fans who know this metatextual fact to do the emotional heavy lifting for them and extrapolate the consequences they don’t want to deal with themselves.
It is lazy writing.
In some cases I also think it becomes a prop that invalidates the point of his character arc – and even breaks the worldbuilding a little, turning what was originally a struggle to forge an identity separate from people’s expectations, into a straight case of nepotism. The two most egregious examples?
Is he able to use templar abilities without lyrium because anyone with enough training and discipline can do it, and the lyrium is just the Chantry’s way of keeping its army leashed and loyal? Nope, it’s because he’s special because his mummy was a mage and it gave him special latent mage powers. That’s far more interesting than examining the ramifications of a religious order using addiction and brainwashing to make sure its soldiers will commit atrocities without question.
Is he a Warden because of his strength of will and determination to survive, chosen from the ranks of the other potential recruits because he had a spark of something that Duncan knew would be valuable in the fight against the darkspawn? Nope, it’s because his mummy was a Grey Warden and gave him special taint immunity powers, and also she was best friends with the current Warden-Commander so he was picked even though there were better fighters among the potentials competing that day. Don’t worry, this doesn’t mean that all Wardens secretly have Warden blood already because that would be ridiculous, it’s just Alistair who needed that extra leg-up because otherwise he’d be useless at everything.
I promised myself I would rein in the sarcasm but from a storytelling perspective it really annoys me that this shift turns him from an ordinary person into the specialest boy in the world, because it denies him his agency and takes the teeth out of his achievements. I’m not even going to get into how it lets BioWare off the hook for representation, insisting he is half-elven and taking a gold star when he’s never identifiable in-world as a member of an oppressed minority, and it never has any bearing on how he views the world or how it views him. It feels like it’s giving the devs far more credit than they deserve, especially when the effort they put into this (minimal as it was) could have gone into giving Zevran more to say on this. exact. subject. He’s right there, and he is perfect for exploring this aspect of the worldbuilding when he isn't being overlooked.
This is getting a little ranty now so I’ll wrap it up with thanks for your patience, Nonny, if you’ve made it this far. What’s the conclusion? At the end of the day, people can make up their own minds with their own reasoning, all I’ve attempted to do here is lay out the various threads untangled from the snarl that is BioWare’s incomparable ability to fuck up their own lore. Personally, I think Alistair’s mother being an ordinary servant makes his journey and the themes of his character arc more compelling wherever he ends up, and I like that this means his parentage is a facet of his identity rather than the only interesting thing about him. I also think the weight of evidence in DA:O, the game where he’s first introduced, is greater than in a tacked-on scene at the end of a tie-in novel written by a guy who seemed to just think it was a good idea at the time. But hey, I’m not the authority.
However, if there’s one solid takeaway from this then here it is: don’t give BioWare more credit than they deserve, don’t do their work for them, and especially don’t assume they’re leading us down a merry path with super-secret truths for enlightened minds only when the simpler explanation is that no one stopped (in this instance) David Gaider getting carried away.
#dragon age#dragon age meta#bioware critical#dragon age: origins#dragon age: inquisition#the calling#dragon age 2#alistair theirin#maric theirin#alistair's mother#arl eamon#teyrn loghain
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FLICKERtale. Now on Wattpad.
For AO3 version link, click here.
Description:
"Flicker, flicker, the lights are out... the murderer strikes."
"And as it flicks back, the last thing you'll know, the culprit is you."
Aristocrats and their silly gambles has taken too far—beats Russian Roulette in pizzazz at some point—this is why I never join in any murder mystery plays. While they're out thinking it's all game, betting on their soiled money, honor, and life... It's the wealthy's filthiest reality. -Detective McSerif
FLICKERtale is a Flicker-inspired Undertale AU, following Forsythe Sans McSerif the infamous private investigator of high society, as he unravels the mystery behind the massacre of Snowdin Manor.
⚠️Disclaimer: Violence, murder, blood, mentions of su*cide and r*pe, death, horror, and various dark themes that may not be suitable to be read by most audiences. Reader's discretion is advised.
⚠️Also slow hint of Frans, and Chara ship complex, so if you are not comfortable in reading with these in mind, I'm not forcing you not to read it-just don't tell I didn't warn you, and respect. :)
A/n: If you guys didn't know, I have recently made an AU Story, FLICKERtale, which was only available on AO3. Now, it's finally published on my origin-platform Wattpad. I'm really excited on working on this, the writing style I infused on this one is by far, my absolute satisfaction, so check it out if you're interested, it'll make me happy to know you also will enjoy reading what I like writing (cuz I hate writing. FLICKERtale is probably the first one I have ever written with such relaxation next to Why Not? -w-)
FLICKERtale - @pplayz (me)
✦Stay safe, stay patient, stay strong, stay... Determined, pinksterz!💕
#undertale#frans#sans#frisk#sans x frisk#frisk x sans#art#book cover#FLICKERtale#mystery#book#fanfic#wattpad#tpc art gallery#forsythe!sans
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IF YOU'RE GONNA BE DUMB || CH. 10
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DISCLAIMER: This is a reupload from my prev account! best to follow the fic through ao3 [linked below] to avoid any future issues
PAIRINGS - johnny knoxville, bam margera, steve-o, chris pontius, ryan dunn x female reader
WARNINGS - swearing, drinking, injury
ao3 version
After struggling for far too long to fit your key in the lock, you pushed through the front doorway, suitcase trailing behind you. Hard to say if it was the jet lag, the 10 hour flight, or the many many drinks that were had on that flight, but either way you felt fucking rough. You squinted as you looked into the foyer, fumbling around for the lightswitch, but when you found it you were surprised to see Dan bundled up in a blanket on the sofa. That’s strange, you thought, by this time he’s usually long gone. He glanced over at you by the front door when the light switched on, and you couldn’t help noticing he looked tired, and his eyes were rimmed red. You stared back, shutting the door behind you.
“Hey… kinda late for you, isn’t it?”
He chuckled awkwardly, glancing away from you. “Suppose it is, just… don’t feel like going to bed.”
… So… do you point it out? That tension of something going unsaid? Or maybe you were reading too much into things and nothing was going on, after all you were only gone for a week, what could really happen in that time? Dan still was staring at the floor, fiddling with his blanket and tensed like he was awaiting something. Watching him squirm, you felt an uncomfortable acidic feeling in your throat. Does he even want to talk? Were you really in the best state to do it?
“How was the shoot?” He asked, soft spoken, and you decided to forget whatever it was you walked in on.
“Good, productive, it’s uh… maybe a few weeks of editing then it airs.”
“It must’ve been fun.” He cracked a small smile, and you mirrored his expression, sitting next to him on the couch.
“Yeah, don’t know if I recommend staying in the same house as them, but it wasn’t boring .” You sighed, throwing yourself back into the couch cushions - god, so much more comfortable than an airplane seat. “House is still standing too, so I guess my parents won’t kill me.”
“Glad for both of you, from what I remember that place is lovely .” He let himself relax next to you, and you grinned as you remembered the few times you spent there.
“Remember those ‘olympics’ we used to throw there?”
“The Coke Olympics?” Dan tried to keep back his giggles, his hand smacking onto his forehead. “That was… bad. Fuckin’ dodgy shit.”
“Those people were dodge, I don’t think we even knew ‘em.”
“I think they followed us after a gig…?”
“To be fair, I probably invited ‘em. Sorry I guess.”
Dan playfully punched your shoulder, making you chuckle pleasantly as you leaned your head back and stared at the ceiling, making out each crack in the plaster. “What would you do without me?” He didn’t respond at first, prompting you to glance over at him with a slight crease in your brow; he seemed pensive, before he noticed you looking at him. He cracked a small smile.
“Yeah, what would I do?”
You felt a buzz in your pocket, and with a deep sigh, you pulled out your phone and flipped it open to see a text from Johnny.
Knox: jeff says check your email. Sweet dreams :)
An email from Jeff? That piqued your interest.
“Uh, I think I’m gonna go up.” You excused, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm as you got up from the sofa.
“Oh, sure, you must be knackered from the plane. You can tell me about it tomorrow.”
“You not going to bed yet?” You asked - he seemed just as exhausted as you, and you hoped mentioning it might coax him up. However, he just scratched the back of his neck, bringing his blanket closer to his chest.
“I’m not… really tired, I’ll go in a bit.”
You pulled a face, furrowing your eyebrows, but you weren’t going to fight him on it. You wished him a good night, and grabbed your suitcase to drag it up to your room. It was abandoned in the corner of said room once you got in - like hell were you unpacking any time soon - and headed for your desktop, switching on the monitor and computer tower before taking a seat. You pulled your legs up towards your chest as the system slowly booted up, the internet chugging once you logged in. Lo and behold, there was a new email in your inbox.
Hey, it was cool working with you on the UK shoot, thanks again for putting us up at your place, really did us a solid. MTV’s throwing a kinda end-of-shoot celebration party, and they wanted to book your band to play. After the set you guys are all free to hang out and drink with the rest of us, of course. Everyone’s gonna be there.
If you’re interested, let me know as soon as you can. The party’s in three days, and you’ll be paid. Once [if] you confirm, someone will be in touch to give you the total run down with details and everything.
Thanks, Jeff
You raised your eyebrows - a gig, huh? Maybe this’ll shut Mila up, ‘not doing band shit’ your ass, you told him you were making connections.
Hey, it’s cool, glad i didn’t have to pay for the trip. I have to talk to my guys first but it’s almost a definite that we’ll play, first gig since we moved to LA!
I’ll confirm for sure in the morning. Sleep easy.
[Y/n]
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
Mila damn near lost his shit when a glossy black stretch limo showed up outside your house. He was clutching his guitar like it was the only thing stopping him from going completely insane, and that excitement was infectious. “Holy shit look at that thing!” You exclaimed, approaching it as if it was a wild animal that might flee any second; reverently, you laid your open palms on the body of the car.
“I know right? Who the fuck let us in a goddamn limo?!” Mila’s pitch was all over the place as he started bouncing on the balls of his feet. Dan stood there and just stared with wide eyes, clearly as stunned as you two.
“MTV must have a lot of trust in us…” The brunette mumbled, looking nearly concerned at the concept of what the three of you could do to such an expensive vehicle.
“Considering the people they employ for their shows, we’re probably the least of their worries.” You quipped, turning to Mila as he started caressing the limo next to you. “Y’know, kinda surprised you’re so stoked.”
Mila screwed up his nose, giving you a scrutinous look. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be stoked about a goddamn limo? ”
“Dunno, thought you might turn your nose up, too punk for a shitty limo I imagined you saying in that nasally voice–”
He shoved you away, making you snicker. “ What the fuck ever, this is cool as shit .”
All the while, the limo driver watched you all with the passenger door held open expectantly, probably a little miffed that you guys wouldn’t just get in the car already. Dan was the first to notice and cleared his throat to catch your attention, nodding his head to the side to motion to the guy; you were the second to feel self conscious. Mila didn’t give a fuck, as per usual.
“We should probably get going, shouldn’t we?” Dan asked, looking to the driver for confirmation - his subtle glance to the passenger door was all the answer you needed.
None of you had ever been in a limo before, and maybe you couldn’t speak for Dan, but you and Mila fucking prayed it wouldn’t be the last time. It was probably the coolest moving thing you’d ever get to be in [unless God smiles down on you and lets you ride a tractor some time] and the beers you were all pounding only enhanced the experience. It may sound lame, but shit, you really felt like a fucking rock star. You almost didn’t want to leave when you finally arrived in front of the hotel, but considering he was so nervous about somehow irreparably fucking up the limo, Dan couldn’t wait to get out into the fresh air. There were a considerable number of people hanging around outside, some with cameras at the ready, but others just seemed to be rowdy kids. There were few enough people that only a couple security guards and some railings were enough to keep them in check. Honestly you were bracing yourself for a bit more buzz for an MTV party, but it was still a lot of people, enough ruckus for you to keep your distance from those metal barriers. Besides, Mila seemed satisfied, grinning at the flashing photos being taken.
“Where did these guys even come from…?” Dan asked, warily surveying the crowd that had gathered outside. You shrugged, knocking back the rest of your beer.
“Eh, guess word got out that MTV was throwing a party. I doubt they even know who’s gonna be in there.”
“Wouldn’t it be cool if we go to a real red carpet some time?” Mila mused, careful not to drag his prized guitar as he followed you to the double door entrance, a guy with an earpiece and clipboard standing guard. You hummed, absentmindedly pivoting your bass by the neck, the bottom of it grinding against the floor. Mila looked at you with horror, quickly yanking it up from the floor so it didn’t get any more ruined than it already was.
“I don’t know, too many people, too many flashing lights.” You complained, taking back the bass and making a show of not letting it touch the ground; you nodded at the front doorman, and gave him your names. A quick glance at the list and you were allowed through, giving yourself a small fistbump on the way. There were people in the lobby, some taking photos for a more official looking photographer, and others just chatting. You didn’t really know who any of them were, until you spotted the two men emerging from the left corridor, one with black hair and the other blonde. All at once, you felt your face light up, and without hesitation you called out:
“ Bam! Dunn!”
They both snapped to attention at the familiar voice, and while Ryan looked happy to see you, Bam looked stoked. They hauled ass across the lobby to you guys, and you were surprised to be pulled into a hug when Bam got near enough to you.
“ Hey! Finally back from shitty old England!” He sounded so bubbly, keeping his hands on your arms even when he let you go from the embrace. Filling the gap, Ryan wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him for another quick hug. Meanwhile, Dan and Mila both watched the interaction with confused expressions, wondering when you got so comfortable with other people.
“...Pretty friendly, huh?” Mila asked, furrowing his eyebrows. At that moment, you realised none of them had formally met each other.
“Guys, this is Bam and Ryan from the show.” You hooked your arms around each of their necks all while still holding your bass, pulling them down to your level. “And that’s Mila and Dan, my beloved bandmates.” Greetings all round, a little awkward on your bandmates’ end but thank god Bam and Ryan could carry a conversation so you wouldn’t have to. Dan couldn’t help bringing up Big Brother Magazine, which got him, Bam and Mila talking properly, making you beam like a proud mother. That left you and Ryan as the rest chatted amongst themselves.
“How did the shoot go?” Ryan asked, leaning down so he was next to your ear. The sudden closeness made you jump, but you quickly recovered and turned to face him.
“Pretty good, Johnny and Chris got savaged by a rugby team, Steve-O got bit by a sheep, I got kidnapped by a werewolf, fun stuff.”
“Got a lotta good footage then?”
“Yeah…” You trailed off for a second, remembering that moment you had to yourself at that bar on the last night. “...Wasn’t the same without you guys though.”
“What’re you talking about? Bam probably would’ve just thrown us in the Thames if we were there.”
“Probably.” You kicked your leg bashfully, fiddling with your bass strings. “I dunno, missed you guys.” Ryan seemed a little taken aback - he probably wouldn’t guess you’d miss him after just a week’s absence. Maybe you came across as clingy… you hoped not.
When you looked back up at his face, he was smiling down at you softly, an affectionate glint in his eyes. “Yeah, I missed you too. Uh- you guys , I mean.”
His fumble got you grinning back, playfully bumping his chest with the bass headstock.
“C’mon assholes, quit standing around and let's go to the party already.” Bam interrupted your little moment, shoving the side of Ryan’s head when he appeared out of nowhere. A shove back from Ryan before you all headed to the right corridor - apparently that was where the function room was. Bam made himself comfortable between you and Ryan, throwing an arm around you.
“You never called me back.” Bam pointed out, and you sucked the air through your teeth.
“Shit, sorry I meant to, I just…” You really were gonna call Bam that last night in England, but then you decided to get your shit rocked by a stranger. Bam waved you off before you could answer.
“Eh, doesn’t matter. Did you think about it at least?”
“Yeah, through the booze-y haze, definitely thought about it.”
“Well, wanna come to West Chester?” Ryan cut in. “Bam won’t shut up about it.”
“You say that like you haven’t been asking every day ‘did [Y/n] call? What did [Y/n] say? Ooh– ’”
Bam started laughing as Ryan grabbed him by the front of his shirt and wrestled him into a headlock. Dan and Mila gave them odd looks for the sudden rough housing, but you barely batted an eyelash, just slowing down so you could walk in step with your band members.
“What do you think of them?” You asked, motioning to the two in front. Mila raised an eyebrow with an amused smile.
“Yeah… they’re cool.”
“It’s cool to meet them in person.” Dan smiled, messing with his rings. “A bit surreal after seeing them in the videos and magazines.”
“Listen, Bam phoned me a little while back saying him and Ryan want me to come visit them in West Chester, and I think I’m gonna.”
Dan seemed a little confused; “Where’s West Chester…?” But Mila just looked annoyed.
“Fucking Pennsylvania? You’re kidding right?”
Oh hell. Of course he had something to say about it.
“ Christ , what’s your issue now? ”
“You just came back from England and now you’re pissing off again? We have band shit to do!”
“It’s not like we have a deadline for the album– besides, it’ll be for like a week! ”
Mila geared up to fire back, but stopped completely when Dan jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow, a little harsher than you really thought necessary. You raised your eyebrows, turning your attention to Dan. “I think you should go. It’s all building connections.” He didn’t even acknowledge Mila’s bewildered look, just gave you an affirmative nod. Weird… that was a little out of character, even if it benefited you. For a moment, you considered asking if there was something more to the blunt opposition, but you felt that maybe it wasn’t any of your business. So, you decided not to question him and just nodded in appreciation.
“Hey!” You called ahead, and Bam and Ryan stopped messing with each other long enough to pay you mind. “I’m coming to West Chester.”
Bam wormed out of Ryan’s hold with a bright smile. “ Awesome! This’ll be way cooler than whatever you guys did last week, promise.” It was definitely flattering that he was so enthusiastic about taking you home. Part of you was a little apprehensive about what mischievous shit they might have up their sleeve, but the overwhelming majority couldn’t wait.
The party was already in full swing by the time you guys got through the doors, a dark room with bright colourful lights and the loud chatter among guests. The bar in the far corner immediately caught your eye, especially when you recognised the guy currently ordering, leaning against the counter with an empty beer bottle in hand. You didn’t think to let anyone know before you wandered off, weaving through drunken party guests until you were right behind him. He was yet to notice you, idly chatting to the bartender - that’s when the impulse kicked in without you noticing.
“ Jesus! ” Johnny yowled, his voice rising in pitch and jumping entirely out of his skin before spinning on his heel, only to see you with your hands still in a claw shape. “ You –”
“A wedgie, yeah.”
“The hell for?!”
“Dunno, you let your guard down.”
He stared at you incredulously, a bewildered smile on his face, then shook his head with a giggle. “Oh I’m so getting you back for that.” You’re sure he wouldn’t go too hard on you. In fact, he was nice enough to order you a drink without you even asking, cheers-ing you with a grin once it arrived. “You glad to be back?”
“Been catching up with those assholes.” You nodded over to Bam and Ryan, the former seeming to have a ‘playful’ argument with Mila [though, if Mila saw it that way, you weren’t sure]. “Can’t believe how much I missed them while we were abroad… just felt like something was missing, y’know?” You chuckled, strangely bashful all of a sudden, and Johnny raised an eyebrow. He didn’t respond at first, just hummed as he swigged from the bottle; it was a little awkward waiting for him to say something. “I, uh.. I’m gonna go see ‘em in West Chester.”
“Oh yeah?” He cracked a smile, tilting his bottle this way and that to swirl the liquid. “Looks like you’re gonna meet Ape ‘n Phil.”
You tilted your head. “ ‘Ape and Phil’? ”
“You don’ know about Ape and Phil? I’m surprised Bam hasn’t at least mentioned them. They’re his parents.” Johnny explained, and you spluttered.
“His parents? Why would I meet his parents?” Why did the idea make you so deeply nervous, too? Johnny shrugged.
“Why wouldn’t you? They all live together - Ape, Phil, I think Ryan’s crashing in their guest room with Raab. If you’re staying with ‘em, you’ll meet ‘em.”
Another name you didn’t recognise, but you figured it wasn’t important if neither Bam or Ryan hadn’t mentioned this ‘Raab’. Then again, they never mentioned Bam’s parents either.
“Sounds pretty packed already…”
“Eh, not really, got a real nice house. Big, too. Only problem is they live in freezing as fuck West Chester.” Johnny knocked back the rest of his beer and called the bartender for another. “Don’t worry, they’re lovely people. Phil’s one hell of a good sport, considering the shit Bam puts him through.” You winced at the thought - knowing Bam, you could imagine the kinda ‘shit’ his dad would be put through.
“The guy sounds like a saint.”
“ Yeah , they’ll probably love you since you’re not a total monster like the rest of us.” He grinned at you, squeezing your shoulder. “Bet they’ll be begging an upstanding gal like you to stay.”
The sentiment made you giggle, a dash of red smudging across your cheeks. “We’ll see about that when I’m ten drinks in.”
The conversation was cut short when somebody came up behind you and tugged on your shirt.
“C’mon, quit yapping, we have a show to play.” But to Mila’s chagrin, Johnny’s southern hospitality kicked in, and he was getting up from his barstool to meet them.
“ You two must be [N/n]’s band! Nice to finally meet you guys, I’m Johnny Knoxville.” Johnny reached out a hand to Dan first and he readily accepted, surprised but welcoming when Johnny then pulled him into a quick one-armed hug, complete with a hearty pat on the back. Mila wasn’t quite as enthusiastic, accepting Johnny’s hand no problem but leaning away when he went for the same hug. Fair enough, Johnny wouldn’t think much of it. The man turned to you then, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “I better let you go then, don’t wanna keep your friends waiting.”
You nodded and finished the last of your beer, using your bass as leverage as you got up from your seat, just about hearing Johnny call out to you over the crowd: ‘break a leg!’
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
You forgot how electric the air feels when you’re on stage. The blinding lights, the heat of countless bodies in a crowd, the booze that burned the back of your throat between songs - it all blurred together into a euphoric high, one that you wanted to keep chasing, even when Dan had to pull you away from the spotlight. You couldn’t help yourself, you thought you would have struggled to get into that state of mind again, like you struggled the first time you faced a crowd, but if anything it was like coming home. Like you were all a family, joined by each other's instruments.
Reluctantly, the three of you left the stage for the hall’s backroom, but that didn’t stop that euphoria from pumping through your collective veins. Dan’s hands were still rhythmically flicking his drumsticks, like he was still banging out the beat; he was drenched in sweat, even a little breathless, but his smile’s never been wider. Mila was wildly ecstatic, jumping around with his guitar in a white-knuckled grip like if he didn’t get the energy out it might kill him. He laughed excitedly and you joined him, swinging him around before breaking away to grab Dan and hoist him up. Dan squealed and dropped his drumsticks to hold onto Mila’s shoulders for leverage, and he looked happy. His laugh sounded light, and through the exhilarating haze, a wave of relief rolled over you.
Man, you wanted a fucking smoke.
You left them to it, leaning your bass against the wall and making for the fire exit, slipping a box and lighter out of your back pocket. The cold biting air felt good on your blazing skin, drying the sweat as it hit. It was a nice night, but the stars weren’t as clear as they were in that field with Steve-O… you placed a cigarette between your lips, shielding it from the wind as you started to flick the flint. You realised you hadn’t seen Steve-O yet; come to think of it, you hadn’t seen Chris, either. Where had they gone off to…?
Just as the flame finally lit, you heard a groan. You froze, letting the flame blow out, and you realised whoever it was was still groaning. You looked around, but there was nobody near you - it must have been coming from around the corner of the building. Without much more thought, you followed your instinct and rounded the corner, though what stood there wasn’t what you expected.
“...The hell happened to you…?” You asked, and his head snapped up, obviously not expecting someone else there. His hand was still held over his nose and mouth so half of his face was obscured, but past that barrier you could see splatters of blood across his cheeks. His skin was discoloured in places, the precursors to bruising - one of his eyes was already starting to swell. He seemed almost sheepish, maybe embarrassed that you caught him in that state…?
“Oh hey, is your set already over?” Chris asked; not what you asked.
“Yeah, just finished.”
“ Shit , sorry, I promise I was there for the first part, but..”
“ But…? ” You pushed when Chris trailed off, and his shoulders tensed up.
“He was just some fucking asshole , I don’t know, I just–” He gestured with his free hand in a frustrated loss for words, “he fucking deserved it.”
You weren’t used to seeing Chris like this, usually so light hearted and goofy, but here he was glaring at his shoes with his face caked in blood. Gingerly, you stepped towards him and held onto his wrist to move his hand out of the way, and he didn’t stop you. You sucked the air through your teeth when you saw the damage; sure, not the worst you’ve seen, but he was definitely banged up. He smiled half heartedly, making the split in his lip ooze. “I guess I don’t look so pretty right now, huh?”
And you sighed, handing him the cigarette you were about to smoke. “You’re always pretty, Chris.”
You lit the cigarette for him, then led him to the fire escape. Mila and Dan weren’t there when the two of you entered, which might’ve been a good thing. A small bathroom was at one end of the backroom, so that’s where you took Chris. As you started to gently clean up his face, the pounding bass of the music playing in the main hall could be felt in that little room, like a backing track for the monotonous sound of the running tap. Though it looked like he was hurting, he tried to keep things light - you imagined the cigarette might be helping his mood. He hissed particularly harshly when you dabbed at his nose, a little heavier handed than you intended. Now that you looked at it, it seemed a little crooked. You must’ve looked concerned, as he tried to mask the pain.
“ Ah , that tickles.”
You bit your lip, your gaze briefly flicking up from his nose to his eyes, soft and bruised. “Sorry, ‘m a little too drunk to be delicate.”
“‘S okay.” He smiled reassuringly, and once you noticed it, you wondered how long you had been holding onto his wrist for? “Thanks for cleaning me up.”
“How do you feel?” You asked, and he faked thought for a second.
“ Hmm, like shit, I think.” He chuckled, then whined when it only made his face hurt. “I’m so over it, dude. Wanna go to bed.”
“...Let me take you home.”
He was taken aback by the offer, his smile dropping from his face, before it quickly returned. “You’re… sweet, but my car’s just outside.”
Shit, you forgot he was living in his car. Honestly, you’d rather he didn’t shack up in his cold little Toyota, at least not for tonight. The decision was impulsive, but you meant it.
“Come home with me, I mean.”
“What?” He almost didn’t seem to believe you, veering away from you; if it didn’t hurt, he probably would’ve screwed up his nose in an exaggerated expression.
“I don’t know, I wanna… make sure you’re alright, I guess.”
“...You… seriously want me to come crash at yours?”
“Yeah, you can take the sofa or something, it’s fine.”
“That’s…” Chris couldn’t really find the words, nervously looking at the floor before daring to look you in the eye again. “...You’re sure? ”
You couldn’t tell if he was being bashful or if you were making him outright uncomfortable - you really hoped it wasn’t the latter, hoped you weren’t being too pushy or weird. You nodded, now feeling tentative yourself. However, Chris didn’t seem averse to the idea; with your assurance, his shoulders started to relax, and he slowly leaned back towards you. He started to grin, a little uneasy at first but it soon became his familiar bright smile.
“Mind if we leave now…?”
“Nah, I’m over this place anyway.”
You waited for a cab round back, smoking the rest of your cigarette pack. Maybe you were a little bummed about leaving the party early, but it’s not like it’d be your last. Besides, when you glanced over at Chris in the backseat next to you, watching the lights flash by the window, you knew you’d rather see him safe than get shitfaced. Knowing he’d be safe and warm on your shitty couch made you feel better than getting up to whatever debauchery was going down right now. You’re sure somebody would fill you in on what happened.
Chris was out like a light once you set him up with a blanket on the sofa, face covered in plasters and a little gauze. He looked peaceful, holding the blanket close to him as he curled up, and you felt at ease as you trailed up the stairs, surprisingly tired. An early night wouldn’t kill you.
Something tells you he’d do the same for you.
#jackass fanfic#jackass x reader#johnny knoxville x reader#bam margera x reader#steve o x reader#chris pontius x reader#ryan dunn x reader#if you're gonna be dumb
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BakuDeku one shots by nikkiRA
UA Students
AO3 Fanfic Recommendations
Disclaimers!
All of these stories are by @aravenlikeawritingdesk
Some contain mature content.
Read tags. Check Ratings.
Art work by @Milmil21229 {twitter}.
Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!
jump then fall by nikkiRA
Summary: During a storm, Class 3-A end up playing a version of the newlywed game, except Deku and Katsuki get roped into playing, even though they're not dating.
They're really good at it.
“It’s cute that you know so much about each other,” Ashido says. Bakugou curls his lip; he locks eyes with Deku, and he feels his cheeks heat up at the happy smile he gives him.
One Shot | Third Year AU
Rated - General Audiences
can this be a real thing can it by nikkiRA
Summary: His friends are all laughing when Katsuki throws himself down beside them and says, “Why the fuck do people think I’m dating Deku?”
This time last year it would probably be hard to get an answer, with no one (except possibly Kirishima) willing to be the one to poke Katsuki’s anger. Now they all burst into laughter, and Mina says, “Have you seen you and Deku?”
One Shot | Second Year AU | Post War
Rated - General Audiences
this love left a permanent mark by nikkiRA
Summary: "I get 'em too."
Izuku looks at him, but Katsuki is faced away. "About what?"
Katsuki shrugs. "Take your fucking pick. Got a lot of options." And isn't that just damn depressing. "Hey," Katsuki continues, and his voice has the forced neutrality he always gets when he cares too much and he's pretending not to. "You can stay here tonight, if you want."
One Shot | Post War
Rated - Explicit
king of hearts by nikkiRA
Summary: Bakugou gets hit by a quirk that makes hearts manifest above his head— the more hearts, the more he likes you.
He can under no circumstances let Deku see him.
One Shot | Third Year AU | Quirk Accident
Rated - Explicit
gorgeous by nikkiRA
Summary: Katsuki smirks and says, "Why d’you like my summer uniform better?"
And here's the thing— Izuku could come up with an acceptable reason, except at that moment Katsuki crosses his arms, and even in the school uniform Izuku can see the outline of his muscles, his incredibly big, incredibly strong muscles. And Izuku's very dumb, very gay brain latches onto them, and Izuku's very dumb, very loud mouth opens and says, “Arms."
One Shot | Third Year AU
Rated - Explicit
this love is a bloodbath by nikkiRA
Summary: Izuku takes a breath. "When I thought that you were dead, I thought of all the things I hadn't told you, and now it's like I have a second chance. I don't want to keep secrets from you anymore.
Katsuki swallows. His mouth is very dry. “What secrets have you been keeping?"
the truth comes out.
{One Shot}
Rated - General Audiences
Research Purposes by nikkiRA
Summary: The curiosity gets to be too much for him. There were too many unknown variables. When did he start needing glasses? Izuku had been watching and taking notes on Katsuki since he first learned how to write. He needed to know for research purposes. The fact that they made Izuku horny as hell was just an unfortunate side effect.
{One Shot}
Rated - Explicit
Unravelled by nikkiRA
Summary: *spoilers for chapter 362*
The first thing Katsuki becomes aware of is the fact that he’s not dead. Or at least, he’s assuming he’s not dead, because he’s hoping being dead isn’t going to hurt this fucking much. It feels like Shigaraki had turned him into dust and some stubborn idiot had gathered up all the pieces and super glued them back together.
There’s a sniffle near him, and Katsuki opens his eyes to see the stubborn idiot in question.
One Shot | Post War
Rated - General Audiences
Someday by nikkiRA
Summary: "Bastard hit me with his quirk," his Kacchan says. "It's supposed to swap you with a version of your past self, except Aizawa erased it right in the middle, which somehow meant that this shithead got pulled through, but I didn't get sent back."
"Who're you calling a shithead?” Sixteen year old Kacchan bursts out. Kacchan smacks him on the head.
"You, shithead! Pay attention!"
One Shot | Third Year au | Quirk Accident
Rated - Teen & Up
dining in by nikkiRA
Summary: "Kacchan," Izuku says patiently. "I just squirted on your face. Tell me you love me."
Katsuki’s eyes turn hungry at the reminder. "Fuck yeah, you did,” he says leaning down to give Izuku a kiss that is mostly teeth. "I fucking love you."
One Shot | Third Year AU | Trans Deku
Rated - Explicit
#bakudeku#ua students#third year au#fic recs#bnha post war#bkdk#ao3 fic recs#ao3 bakudeku recs#bakugou x midoriya#bakudeku ua students#trans Deku x bakugo#quirk accident#getting together#second year au#bkdk post war#bakudeku confessions#archive of our own bakudeku#ao3 fic rec#bakudeku smut#bakudeku fic rec
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A few cute screenshots from my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction: Sausage Party! Links included at the bottom!! 🦅🦅
If I have successfully managed to woo your ass, please consider checking out the full (incomplete but a work in progress) story!!
DISCLAIMER: This Fanfiction is a companion Fanfiction of an EXISTING STORY (that I also wrote), but it is NOT necessary to read it to understand what's going on! ANDDD!!! THERE ARE A LOT OF OC'S BECAUSE HAVING FRIENDS IS COOL!!!
Wattpad:
Quotev:
Ao3 (I don't recommend this version because it's not fully updated! But the support would be appreciated nonetheless!!):
Also I don't know how Tumblr works, but I was asked to tag someone whenever I'd post the link sooo @candlewitch-cryptic I hope I did this right? Am I supposed to include this at the top or bottom? Anyway-
#twisted wonderland#reader insert#fanfiction#twisted wonderland crowley#Malleus mention#crazy i know#Ace goes to jail#it's very tragic#twisted wonderland x reader
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Midnight Espresso [Podfic Version]
Happiest of birthdays to SPN FanFic Pond member @zepskies (Zeppelin_Skies on AO3)! I’m honored she enjoyed my take on her story “Smoke Eater” (Chapter 1) enough to pick another narration for her birthday gift prize! This go-round, I’m tackling “Midnight Espresso.” I apologize in advance for my Spanish! Dean would not be impressed. But, all that aside, it’s a great hunters-to-lovers fic. Have a listen!
Visit the story on tumblr or AO3 and don’t forget to give it some love!
Learn more about SPN FanFic Pond and become a part of this amazing community of fanfic writers and readers: https://spnfanficpond.tumblr.com
~ Sandra
~~~~~
Supernatural Fandom
Rated Mature (NSFW)
Dean Winchester/Reader
Summary:
You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson.
[Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader]
~~~~~
Subject Matter Disclaimer: This podfic contains adult material of a sexual and graphic nature. Listener discretion is advised, and be mindful of the tags. Feel free to hop out of the backseat if that’s not your thing. Dean won’t hold it against you. More than likely, he or Sam or some other SPN character or any number of character combinations will be too busy holding other things against others to give it a second thought. If you’ve buckled up and are ready for the drive, please check your Bluetooth connections and/or plug in those headphones before the engine starts.
By proceeding, you understand that @idlingintheimpalapodcast is not responsible for any embarrassment, cringe, or adverse consequences that may occur as a result of the listener failing to conduct these checks.
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Don't Say Yes // Affianced!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader
Speak Now (Taylor's Version), Taylor Swift—lyrics would be pulled directly to be used in the fic. y/n interrupts and objects to chan's wedding after being arranged for marriage with an unbearable and manipulative chaebol bride. y/n and 7 of their friends save him; and in the process gives chan the one he was looking for all along
Tags: Objection to a Marriage, Drama, Light Angst, Swearing, Hurt/Comfort
Disclaimer: dialogue heavy + kinda lacks chan actually (i am so sorry), reader centric, swearing, it can get frustrating, you and the 7 kids get into a short argument, the bride nearly hurts reader, implied abusive family members (grandmother), legal terms are discussed but ultimately thrown out the window, not as well written as i'd like, heads-up, I'll think about posting a thorough one on AO3 but it isn't likely.
click on the pictures for clearer resolution. divider used is by: @emptypetal
Removing your coat and hanging it up on the couch in Hyunjin's living room, furrowing your brows at the 7 men gathered around the kitchen table. "Is this about Chan leaving our group chat? You guys know it isn't that serious right?" you chuckle nervously at the tense atmosphere, "It isn't about that," Changbin says glumly. Seungmin, in all his antsiness, speaks up and lets it slip, "Chan is getting married in two months,"
And you laugh. You couldn't help but let out an awkward and slightly forced laugh. "What the fuck?" you raise your brow at him but nobody was laughing with you. Not even Jeongin who usually cannot hold it in whenever they pulled a prank on you. Your face drops, approaching them as Minho slaps a bunch of scented paper and a gold envelope on the table. "When was the last time you checked your mailbox?"
"Like, two days ago," you respond, tongue dry, almost terrified to look. If it was real it would tear you inside out, because it has been two weeks since Chan cut off contact from you and the others, thinking he just needed time to think and recollect himself for inspiration but you were wrong.
Marriage? It was almost unbelievable to you, mostly because of your obvious and unsaid feelings for your best friend. You were in love with Cristopher Bang and kept quiet about it, it was something that couldn't sink in for you that he'd be married so hastily, without even a proper bride in mind.
With shaky hands, you pick up the first page of pungent, rose-scented paper and force yourself to read. 'Save The Date! With Christopher Bang and Soo-ah Kim, witness as they lovingly exchange nuptials,' your hands tremble slightly, putting the paper back down before looking up to see the grim faces looking right at your every move.
"Wh- Why didn't I know?" you squeak out, suddenly weak to your knees as Hyunjin pulls out a chair for you and ushers you to sit down, hand on your forehead as you stare at the paper like it'll catch flames with just a glare.
"None of us did," Changbin bitterly spits out, "I only received the invitation yesterday. I'm only a guest, all of Chan's best men are either distant cousins or relatives of the bride,"
"And I got word from Hannah that he's currently stranded in Jeju, his grandmother's property doesn't have signal and he's pretty much trapped there," Felix explains, "Y/N, what do we do?"
You didn't know you were holding a breath in, absolutely frustrated at the information slowly piling up. This couldn't happen, this wasn't happening. You were just about to tell Chan how you feel, not suddenly send him off to a wedding. Your chest tightens, unable to pull a coherent through out of your noisy brain, the buzzing sounds of your friends talking intelligible in the background, heart beating so hard against your chest you're slightly scared it'll suddenly stop.
It gets noisy. You could vaguely heart Changbin shouting over Minho and Hyunjin yelping about. It was a bit too much for you to handle as you slam your hand down the table, crumpling the invitation in the process.
""Everyone shut up!" you yell out as the others look at you in shock and your breath hitches against your throat. You whip your head towards Felix's direction, his question finally anchoring itself in your brain as you glare, "Why does it rely on me?" it comes out a bit more sharply than you intended, making him tense up.
"What? Aren't you in love with Channie hyung..?" he trails off before he sees the irritation seeping into your eyes. "Are you implying that my feelings are something you could use to stop a wedding?" you snap at him.
"No, of course not!" he stands up as well, a bit worked up. "I'm saying that once Chan hyung finds out about your feelings he'd change his mind about the wedding," he explains before Minho raises a brow, "Wait I thought he didn't have a say in the wedding? I thought we brought Y/N here to collectively think about how to pull him out of that situation,"
"Thank you!" you exasperatedly point at Minho, "You're putting me in the spotlight here like I'm the only one who doesn't want Chan to be involved in this wedding!"
Changbin's chair scratches loudly against the tile, "You're meaning to tell us that it seems like we don't value Chan?!"
"I didn't say that!"
And then there was more and more shouting.
Changbin started talking over you, ranting about how you seem like emotional connections won't pull a groom out a wedding while you argued that it isn't "that simple", Seungmin calling you out for being selfish that you absolutely would allow anything to the point where you'd rid the love of your life a chance to know about your feelings while you counter that they're the selfish ones for ever implying that in that way you don't care about Chan, and they don't care about you—seen as only a turning point for Chan.
It was chaos.
"Fine!" you throw your hands up before storming off the living room and grabbing your things, "I'm the selfish one? Then so be it. Do it without me," you threaten but hesitate at the sight of heartbreak on all their faces, the frustration on Bin's face and the tears streaking Hyunjin's face.
You storm out of the apartment, all kinds of feelings stirring within you as you take heavy breathes in and out just so that you don't end up crying while driving back home.
Your heart was breaking and of course, you're left to pick the pieces up yourself. You were terrible to your friends, and worse, you were going to complete lose Chan in two months.
Getting home, you storm into your room nervously, fidgeting about while opening and closing your phone to apologize to them, the guilt now eating you out alive. You bounce on your heels while you look out the window, trying to clear your head pacing around until a small, pink envelope catches the corner of your eye.
Nestled between a book, and a pen atop of it, your eyes widen and heart cracks a bit more. It was your confession letter to Chan.
Pouring your now shattered heart into that letter tucked between the paper material wasn't the easiest, always on the verge of tears and embarrassment but sealing it into finality gave you relief. One that was so coldly snatched out of your hands bare. You shakily pick it up and grab your letter opener, one shitty gag gift from Seungmin 4 Christmases ago—and you open it back up.
Affection spills into the paper, scratches of black ink prominent against the palest pink of papers. Signed at the bottom and expressing your growing, uncontainable feelings for Christopher Bang. It was all so much yet lacking at the same time. Your heart squeezes at the thought of someone else on the aisle with him, someone else to call home and to marry. You couldn't take it.
You open your phone to apologize before it buzzes against your hand and then an influx of notifications flood—leading you to mute your device.
You close your eyes and breathe in, trying to think rationally about your next steps. "One day," you resoundingly tell yourself in a moment of finality, "I'll respond after one whole day,"
You say you're ready to do anything for him but there's a small part of your brain nagging you to be scared. To doubt if he'll really come to your defense. But everytime it crosses your mind, you force your eyes to look at the unsealed love letter—and a new one freshly written—beside each other.
You know Chan loves you too.
For years you've convinced yourself that it's just him being indifferent but after a night out of him being drunk and you being as sober as the day you were born, you eventually had to carry information more precious than anything in this earth. It was the occasional insecurity that drove you to denial but now that you were standing by the chasm of your feelings and his', driven against a corner there was the ultimatum laid upon you.
And you did tell Changbin that you'd rather risk 2 years of jail rather than 10 for breaking and entering, quite possibly aggravated assault just to get to talk to Chan.
And as the days passed by, you stand in your light periwinkle dress given by Felix, handpicked by Olivia and Rachel as your hands tremble while it runs down the tulle fabric of the skirt. It didn't look too inconspicuous or obvious, which was exactly the look you were going for.
Changbin enters the hotel room you guys pitched in to stay in as he looks at you up and down, "You look like a bride's maid,"
"Is that a bad thing?" you nervously fidget with the bracelet attached to your wrist, slowly and increasingly getting antsier by the second. "No. But Chan's grandmother knows what you look like since apparently he has never shut up about you since getting hitched," he explains, "I heard it from one of his cousins who kindly relayed a word in for hyung, although I'm still not allowed to enter the groom's suite,"
"We have a wig to conceal her hair," Hyunjin helpfully supplies while getting dressed. Out of the 7, Changbin was the only groomsman chosen, the rest were mere guests which none of you had expected for Chan's wedding.
Minho clicks his tongue, "Fuck, then it really is a wedding objection,"
"The letter?" you hopefully turn to Changbin as he clears his throat, "I slipped it under his door while the dude guarding it was talking to another family member,"
Felix pops his head from the bathroom, "What was in that letter?" he asks. You shrug and offer him a nervous, tight-lipped smile, "Dunno,"
"Tease," he rolls his eyes. Despite the joking you 8 try to do, it was ultimately futile, the tension in the room too overbearing to try and alleviate it with a few jokes.
Changbin leaves first, called by the rest of the entourage. After an excruciating hour, Jeongin looks at his watch before gulping down, "Guys...I think it's time," he announces as everyone scrambles to their feet, Felix taking your hand before squeezing it in solidarity.
You look up at him, nodding with fire and passion in your eyes, brows furrowed— "Let's do this,"
The way to the venue was enough to make your knees lock up, ridgid against Felix's hold as he tries to make you loosen up a bit more, even being knocked down and tickled slightly by Seungmin. You pass by the bride yelling at one of the bridesmaid in the bridal suite, making you wince. She looked like a damn tiered cake in the worst way possible, along with the horrific screeching spilling from the doorway.
"God I can't believe he's marrying that," Minho bitterly mutters under his breath, the eight of you walking along the pews as casually as possible, making sure to not expose your face too much with a fan pressed to your nose. "I'm gonna throw up," you mutter under your breath as Jeongin taps on the back of your hand.
"We promise, if something goes wrong, we'll never desert you,"
"I'll count on it," you smile softly. The venue was a grand chapel, guests filing in the pews but nobody in close association to Chan except for the eight of you. Your heart couldn't help but sting at the thought of Chan going through such great mental turmoil being forced into a marriage. You don't know what prompted this but you trusted in Bin's word that he didn't want this, perse.
And then it starts. The organ plays, the officiant walking the aisle to make it to the podium, Bible and documents on hand as the others start to do the procession. First came the sponsors, then Chan's grandmother (the old wench), then the bride's whoevers—most you don't even know. Then next was Chan's groomsmen, his distant relatives, then Changbin. His eyes scan over before spotting you near the front as he nods, encouraging you one last time.
And then your breath hitches at your throat. A glum look washes over Jessica and Jack (Chan's parents) as they walk the aisle right after the Bride's parents. And in comes the groom. He was dressed in a black and white tuxedo, purple and gold lining his blazer, and it took your breath away to the point of Jisung having to remind you to breath with a tap of his pinky against yours.
Chan looked tired, one could say miserable, but he still managed to look good. And it frustrated you so, not being able to see him as your groom, at your wedding.
He gets up to the podium and your eyes suddenly meet. You can tell he hesitates and makes sure his eyes don't widen as you shoot him a look that you cam only hope he interprets as 'I am not giving you up,'
Then it starts playing. The bride's march plays and rings through the chapel—sounding like it was made for your funeral, a deathmarch of sorts. The bride's dress is wide and eccentric, a huge bouquet in her hand as she saunters down the aisle slowly, like she was a pageant queen. Last thing she has to do was wave her gloved hand around but you bit your tongue.
The officiant waits for her to arrive, before all of you and the other guests take a seat. You could see the hesitance in Chan's body language as his bride to be pulls him closer a bit forcefully.
He announces the start of the wedding, and you're starting to get terrified that there might not be any chance for you to object, hanging by the side of your seat as Bin glances over at you nervously.
Your sweat starts to bead at your forehead, gulping down the nervousness as you redirect your brain to where it always looked when the doubtful thoughts lingered. You love Chan, and a letter, his presence and yours in his own wedding was testament to that.
However, after reading a few expletives and guidelines, the officiant clears his throat, "If anyone objects to this marriage," he calls out, as if directly talking to you, "Speak now or forever hold your peace,"
And then there was silence. And that was your chance, your last chance—you stand up with shaky hands and then;
All eyes are on you. Horrified looks from everyone in the room but you're only looking at him, never taking your eyes off Chan's—shellshocked beyond belief. And then you open your mouth
"Don't say yes or wait or say a single vow," you look to the officiant, "You need to hear me out,"
He glances at Chan and says, "Speak now,"
"I am not the kind of girl, who should be rudely barging in on a while veil occasion but you!" you point at Chan with desperation before letting your arm fall to you side, "Are not the kind of boy, who should be marrying the wrong girl,"
An uproar starts as the bride looks over to you, fuming. And like a bull in a China shop, you stare directly into her eyes. She grabs one of the candle stands near her and Changbin gets ready to block her attack from you but before she could strike, Chan rushes to you.
He grabs your wrist, a glint of hope in his eyes, before he pulls you with him. Both of you make a run for it, Felix was right for you to not wear heels, darting towards the church doors before anyone could catch up and process what was happening.
"What are you doing?!" Chan's grandmother smacks the side of Chan's father as he winces but stays in his place, glaring at his own mother, "I told you," he hisses, "You can do whatever you want but so could he,"
She was fuming, red in the face as the bride breaks down in humiliation. "Do something about your son!"
"Eomma!" he couldn't help but raise his voice, "Do not take away Chan's last chance to love," he warns, "Do not make him resent you even further if you don't want any regrets in your life,"
Chan keeps on running until you make it to the gardens of the church, far from the wedding chapel as you both catch your breaths, hands on your knees while huffing heavily. He pulls something out of his pocket inside his suit before waving around the preciously folded pink letter Changbin helped you slip in, "Is that what you meant?" he laughs in disbelief, written in ink:
I know a world you wish it was me, don't you? Don't say yes. Run away now, I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door.
You gasp out with a laugh, "If you think I was letting you get married? Not in my watch Christopher Bang," you stand up straight before stepping closer towards him, "I can never, ever, let you go," you confess, "Ever since then, you're the only one I've loved, Chris. I would've died if I didn't get to tell you that ever," you confess.
Before you could even get an answer, you feel two strong hands cupping your cheeks as he surges forward and presses his lips against yours. You make a surprised sound but ultimately hook your hands on the back of his neck, pulling him closer and slotting your lips together flush and perfectly, you get kiss drunk immediately. You part for air, tears starting to well up your eyes until you see him fully crying.
"Oh god," he mutters, pulling you into his arms as you feel his chest erratically vibrate, "Y/N, I love you so much. I love you so so so much, for the longest time ever," he gasps out despite his tears before pulling away and cupping your face into his hands, "And I want it to be in every world, for it to be you,"
You finally let your tears fall before you pull him into another kiss, relief, adrenaline and pure, unbridled love flowing and coursing through your veins as you smile against his lips. "I love you," he whispers, barely pulling back this time before pecking you again.
"So glad you were around when they said speak now,"
if you wanna send in a prompt or an ask or just say hi feel free to do so!!
#skz bang chan#skz scenarios#skz#skz changbin#skz lee know#skz han#bang chan#bang chan x reader#changbin#han jisung#skz hyunjin#hyunjin#skz felix#felix#skz seungmin#seungmin#skz i.n#i.n#skz x taylor swift#taylor's version#speak now taylor’s version#speak now brainrot#bang chan x you#bang chan x y/n
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Secret reunion
Title: Secret reunion.
Ship: Steve Rogers X Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.!Reader.
Word count: 208 words.
Square: E1 “Hotel room meet up.”
Rating: Teen.
Summary: Steve doesn’t know about the reunion.
Major Tags: Fluff, little spicy.
Additional tags: This is my entry to @cabottombingo Captain Bottom Bingo round 2. CABB2024.
Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.
@saiyanprincessswanie
My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.
I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
Add yourself to my taglist here.
My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.
If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.
Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @Smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @Harrysthiccthighss @Marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @Here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard
Steve Rogers was very confused as he drove to the location of his mission. It was the first time he had to do something like this. The mission took him to a posh hotel. Steve discreetly checked in under a false name and went to his assigned room.
In an adjoining room, you were also on the same mission. You knew Steve was in the other room and that he believed it was a solo mission.
While Steve was taking off his jacket and getting ready to rest, you finished getting ready, smoothed out your discreet but elegant clothes a bit, and stepped out into the hallway. Stealthily, you walked, took out the extra key, and entered Steve's room, closing the door behind you.
Steve, immediately alert upon hearing the noise, turned toward the door with a startled expression. Before he could say anything, you put a finger to his lips, signaling him to be quiet.
They exchanged glances, and you smiled at him; judging by his expression, he never suspected anything.
You quickly explained the real mission: they were to work as a team. Steve nodded, impressed by the cunning and thinking about what might happen perhaps later. Finally, one of his most intimate desires was fulfilled.
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youreverydaydemikid -> conjectureand-gloom (15/01/24)
welcome to my personal diary!
hi! my name is alex, and i’m a non binary lesbian demisexual person (they/them).
@YourEverydayDemiKid on both ao3 and wattpad, not active on wattpad whatsoever.
i’m really just here to chill, i’ll mainly just repost things i like. which will mainly be theatre things, and these theatre things will mainly be hamilton things. i also give out little sneak peeks to my fanfictions, so enjoy that!
i’m a minor, so just don’t be creepy.
INFP-T
ACDT (GMT+10:30)
if anyone wants any fanfic recommendations, check out this post!
lyn lapid side blog- @tlit21c
my pinterest
discord- #youreverydaydemikid
spotify- nahh (taylor’s version) - bc i ain’t telling y’all my deadname, and my parents won’t let me put it as alex lol
2023-24 writing/posting schedule
FANDOM LIST, FANFICTION REQUEST MASTERLIST, WRITTEN WORKS, WIPS, ASKS, AND TAGS UNDER CUT
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FANDOM LIST
hamilton (feel free to request any ships for hamilton fics, i love them all so much. and alexander is a DREAM for any multishipper)
jesus christ superstar (jesus/judas or jesus/judas/mary mainly for jcs, but feel free to ask if there are any other ships you want!! and no, i am not religious. i do, however, have religious trauma. don’t question it, i’m confused about why i’m in the jcs fandom too)
a good girls guide to murder (any ship. but like. pip/ravi is my favourite. ravi is my comfort character, and nothing can change that. i just torture pip relentlessly)
nevermoor (personally i’m a morrigan/cadence girly, but i tend to write more gen fics in this fandom, rather than shippy)
in the heights (canon ships mainly, but feel free to ask if you want any other ships!!!)
newsies (i tend to write more gen fics for newsies too, but dave/jack is my fav. also LOVE angsty crutchie fics)
keeper of the lost cities (preferably keefe/tam or marella/linh. but, once again, feel free to ask!!)
hunger games (gen, preferably. but i’m team peeta, in case anyone was wondering-)
maze runner (newt/thomas. idrk about many other ships, tbh)
divergent (canon ships only. and no, christina/tobias is not canon.)
six (gen all the way. they’re found family 100%, no romantic feelings there. katherine howard is my preferable torture toy btw)
the song of achilles (achilles/patroclus? literally what other ship even is there????)
wednesday (wednesday/enid. i feel like this requires no explanation. also. angst fics. i almost exclusively write angsty fics about wednesday, rather than enid. and i love the whole of the addams family, and i love familial hurt/comfort)
harry potter (DISCLAIMER: as much as i have tried to leave this fandom, it’s what makes me, me. i have been in this fandom since i was 7, and this was before jk rowling was revealed to be a shitty person. i’m a queer teen. i do not agree with any of her statements. the only way i engage with the fandom is through gay angsty fanfiction. fuck jkr. with that said, i write for any gay ship really!! i love them all!!! also, harry is my preferred whump character)
descendants (ben/mal ig, but i LOVE the VKs friendship so much. alsooo mal is my little angst toy lmao)
——————————————————————————————
FANFICTION REQUEST MASTERLIST
i’ll write any fandom listed above! i’m not picky at all! i love them all!
i’ll write hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort, whump, angst, fluff, romance, anything that isn’t smut. any AUs that you could think of, and literally anything. i’m not picky, once again. whump is my personal favourite, but i will write any genre!
i won’t write romanticised abuse, non/con, or anything like that. that’s not to say the requests can’t have dark aspects, but i won’t write romanticised stuff like that. not even going to apologise for that.
actually, on that, i don’t write any non/con, romanticised or not.
also, i won’t write omegaverse, nor will i write y/n fics. nothing wrong with those genres, i just don’t write them!
——————————————————————————————
WRITTEN WORKS
It’s Only A Matter Of Time- A Hamilton watches Hamilton fic
i wish i could say that was the last time
call me son one more time
when they surround our troops
then a hurricane came
take a break
and his right hand man…
she was holding me
the great war
achilles, come down
steal into my affections
the fact that you’re alive is a miracle
fools who run their mouths off wind up dead
to convince you that i love you
my father wasn’t around (febuwhump 2023)
philip, you would like it uptown (febuwhump 2023)
i may not live to see our glory… (febuwhump 2023)
an outrageous demand (febuwhump 2023)
stay alive (febuwhump 2023)
my dearest, angelica (febuwhump 2023)
but this situation’s helpless
like mother, like daughter (agggtm)
“but now this room is spinning…” (whumptober 2023)
“i’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back” (whumptober 2023)
“like crying out in empty rooms, with no one there except the moon” (whumptober 2023)
the entire exposé (not an original idea, inspired and based entirely off of ‘the price of his war’ by jittyjames)
my world is burning (not an original idea, inspired and based entirely off of ‘the price of his war’ by jittyjames)
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WIPS
can you hear me, achilles? (au to my fic ‘achilles, come down’ where alexander was caught)
je m’appelle… lafayette? (non binary lafayette- last chapter is in work)
bloom like rose thorns (angst multichap)
judas’ death (jcs angst)
lams (taylor’s version) (requested, taylor swift songfics for lams)
baby don’t cut (lams angst based on a song with the same name)
you’re the one who disappears (agggtm multichap)
whumptober oneshots
baby it’s cold outside (hamilton christmas oneshot)
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ASKS
please ask anything you’d like in the asks box. literally, i have no limits- mostly. but i’ll just ignore anything else. please request fanfics in my asks box, i’ll get to you within 6 months at the maximum… i also love fanfic recommendations, so if you have any hamilton fics you want to rec, please do!!
——————————————————————————————
TAGS
asks- all the asks i’ve answered, these are also tagged with the url, or with anon dearest if it was an anon ask
akeyla ml- posts about/with my incredible incredible partner @autumnleavesforwinter ❤️
tag games- self explanatory, tag games :)
sleep is overrated- me trying to fix my sleep schedule (this was started because of my post that made it to 10k)
#intro post#lgbtq+ member#ao3#fanfiction#fanfiction writers#hamilton musical#amrev#jesus christ superstar#jcs#a good girls guide to murder#agggtm#nevermoor#wundersmith#hollowpox#in the heights#newsies#keeper of the lost cities#kotlc#hunger games#maze runner#divergent#six the musical#the song of achilles#tsoa#wednesday#harry potter#anti jkr#descendants#multifandom blog#multifandom fanfiction
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🌼Welcome to my Ask Blog!🌼
Heyo! It is I, Lonliest_muffin a (primarily) Katekyou Hitman Reborn Ao3 Author!! :3
I will use this Blog to answer various Questions, reblog writing advice and khr fics, post tumblr-exclusive short stories, announce Updates on my fanfics and (maybe) create some polls about said fanfictions.
If you want, you could also follow me on my Fandom Blog, @social-muffin! :3
And if you'd like to help me build a story, check out my second Ask Blog @ask-kyoya-hibari-and-kyo-kun!
You may ask me anything about, or relating to my many (mostly) Skull- and/or Hibari-centric khr fanfictions. You can even ask me some questions about who I am as a person. Just address your asks to Muffin and I will answer as myself! :3
Under the Read More you'll find a list of Skulls/AUs I plan to answer questions for! I am not an artist(yet I hope), I'm a hobby-writer, so I will answer these Questions with a little story to accompany them, depending on what the question is. (may be 20 words, 100 words, even 1000 words, depends on how inspiration strikes)
Answers that include spoilers for my fanfictions (stuff I haven't written/posted yet) will be tagged as 'Spoilers', for those people that wish to avoid that! But I will not Tag stuff I've already written and posted as spoilers.
Disclaimer!: Harassment and Hate of any kind has no place here, you will be blocked on sight.
Here is the current list of the Skulls I'll answer questions for(may change)! Links are included on the names of the listed fanfics. (mentioned for the Vision impaired)
This is also a really basic Guide on how I would like you to Ask Questions for specific versions of the characters I write!
These WARNINGS are different from the fanfictions's tags, so do check the tags before reading as well, just to be safe! The Tags are more elaborate, I wanted to keep this brief.
Series: Igniting Embers!
Guardian Angels (First Timeline) - Teen Skull (age 16/17) goes through a rough time, then he ends up under the protection of the Vindice! He has fun with it while it lasts.
To ask him and his mysterious pals questions, start your Asks with GA!Skull or Guardian Skull. (Guardian Bermuda, GA!Jaeger, etc.) Will be tagged '#khr Guardian Angels" in case you wanna look through this blog for Asks about this specific AU.
WARNINGS: This story contains implied/referenced underage non-con and the resulting ptsd. This fic is incomplete.
Pathway of Sacrifice (First Timeline) - Skull (pre-curse/age 21) somehow ended up in the Mafia and he is not happy about it! Unfortunately, his teammates are as beautiful as they are cruel and stupid... Skull has to protect them.
To ask him and his tormentors questions start your Asks with PS!Skull or Sacrificed Skull. (Sacrificed Luce, PS!Verde, etc.) Will be tagged '#khr Pathway of Sacrifice' in case you wanna look through this blog for Asks about this specific AU.
WARNINGS: Skull experiences the canon typical bullying, there are several near death experiences, the Arcos have emotional constipation. This fic has been completed.
Simmering Embers (Part of the first Timeline, but a divergence) - Skull (cursed/age 40~) leaves the Hibari Clan and takes along his baby brother, Kyoya (age 3). Now Skull has to figure out how to raise children all while removing himself off the face of the earth, so the Arcos can't find him or his brother. Not to mention he has to do something about the curse!
To ask him and his sweet bro questions, start your Asks with SE!Skull or Simmered Skull! (Simmered Kyoya, SE!OCs also allowed, etc.) Will be tagged '#Simmering Embers' in case you wanna look through this blog for Asks about this specific AU.
WARNINGS: Self-mutilation (can be skipped while reading), mild suicidal ideation at times, Child Abuse, original character death, weird cloud flame things. This fic is incomplete.
Embers Underwater (First Timeline) - Skull (post-curse/age 50~/looks 20~) tells Hibari (age 17) they're half-brothers. Kyoya is surprisingly okay with this and immediately takes Skull home. They get along fine, but then the Arcobalenos start to search for Skull...
To ask him and his brother questions, start your Asks with Ember Skull, or EU!Skull! (EU!Kyoya, Ember Reborn, etc.) Will be tagged '#khr Embers Underwater' in case you wanna look through this blog for Asks about this specific AU.
WARNINGS: Ptsd, miscommunication, Skull and Kyoya are not well, bittersweet ending. This fic has been completed!
Systemic Disorder (First timeline and happens directly after Embers Underwater!) - Skull (still post-curse/age 50~/looks 20~) goes into hiding after his latest stunt causes a mafia-wide uproar. He picks up a new identity and starts living a new life in Namimori! Things won't be that simple when living with Hibari Kyoya though....
To ask him and his many friends questions, start your Asks with SD!Skull or Systemic Skull. (SD!Nana, Systemic Spitfire(OC), etc.) Will be tagged '#khr Systemic Disorder' in case you wanna look through this blog for Asks about this specific AU.
WARNINGS: Everyone needs a hug, everyone has PTSD, Skull attends his own Funeral, Arcos reach their breaking point/verbal abuse. This fic is incomplete.
A Title to Guard the Strongest (Second Timeline!) - Skull (age 20) leads a boring life as an internationally beloved Stuntman. At least until he finally meets some interesting people! Two Soldiers, a substitute teacher that moonlights as a Hitman, a trainee illusionist, an exotic dancer with an assassination hobby, a slightly unethical pediatrician and the revered Donna of the Giglio Nero Familia... Nobody seem able to resist Skull's undeniable charm!
To ask this Skull and his unconventional Family questions, start your Asks with GS!Skull or Titled Skull. (GS!Luce, Titled Reborn, etc.) Will be tagged '#khr A Title to Guard the Strongest' in case you wanna look through this blog for Asks about this specific AU.
WARNINGS: implied/referenced non-con, implied/referenced dub-con, alcohol use, Sky!Skull, explosives and injuries, Luce-appreciation (she gets cuddled here eventually). This fic is incomplete!
Accumulated Embers (Crossover of the First and Second Timeline!) - Embers Skull (age 50~/looks 20~) is having the worst time of his life. Every that could go wrong, goes wrong and he succumbs to the darkness at his core. Titled Fon(age 50~) disagrees with that sad fate, so he burns a path across timelines to protect and nurture that poor soul. As a bonus, Titled Fon also gets to gently bully the Ember Arcos into better coping mechanisms!
To send Asks for this fic, you just have to add on AE! before you write who the Ask is for. (Would look like: AE!Embers Skull, or AE!Titled Fon, or AE!GS!Reborn, etc.) Will be tagged '#khr Accumulated Embers' in case you wanna look through this blog for Asks about this specific AU.
WARNINGS: mentioned Infant death, mentioned substance abuse, mentioned child neglect, mentioned child abuse, internalized transphobia, identity crisis, poverty, bullying, ptsd, Immortality, learning to communicate, Titled Fon has his work cut out for him. This fic is incomplete.
Cirrostratus (A Divergence in the Second Timeline!) - Skull (age 20) meets Reborn (age 25) when the hitman is at his lowest and struggling. Skull has always had a kind heart and open doors. Reborn can only reject that help for so long... A civilain's life seemed a distant dream until it was suddenly at his fingertips.
To ask these two roommates questions, start your Asks with Cirro!Skull or Roommate Reborn. (Cirro!Reborn, Roommate Skull) Will be tagged '#khr Cirrostratus' in case you wanna look through this blog for Asks about this specific AU.
WARNINGS: PTSD, Anxiety, Depression, initially bad coping mechanisms, but it will get better, Skull is a good Bro and way too trusting. This fic is incomplete!
Series: Plot Bunnies
Object Permanence (is actually slightly adjacent to the Igniting Embers Timelines, yet very much it's own thing) - The growth serum Verde developed post-canon goes wildly wrong! Their minds now match their bodies, as though they'd been plucked straight out of their messed-up childhoods. Only Skull was spared, as he regained his adult body. And well... Someone has to take care of these scared, confused children, right?
To send questions to this odd family, start your Asks with Papa!Skull or Tiny![insert Arco] (Examples: Tiny!Reborn, Tiny!Fon, etc. Tiny!Skull is also an option!!) Will be tagged '#khr Object Permanence' in case you wanna look through this blog for Asks about this specific AU.
WARNINGS: a variety of different types of PTSD, neglect, poverty, grief, anxiety, internalized transphobia, canon-typical bullying, pls take care while reading, nobody is all okay, but it will have a very uplifting ending. This story is incomplete.
Series: Igniting Sparks
Sparking Hearth (is part of the first Igniting Embers timeline, in a different Series because it's Hibari-centric) - Hibari Kyoya (age 6) runs away from home ,only to stumble across the most beautiful town he ever did see. The herbivores are actually insane, roaming the streets as though they're prepared for war, all while a kind of grief lingers in the air... But more importantly! That school is gorgeous!!
If you'd like to send this little dear questions, just send an Ask addressed to Baby!Kyoya, or Baby!Hibari. Or Spark/Sparky if you wanna bully the child lmao. Of course, will be tagged '#khr Sparking Hearth' just in case you wanna look through this blog for Asks about this specific AU.
WARNINGS: headcanons for flame harmonization and flame sealing, the following insanities, also Death of OC via child, child abuse, homelessness, Baby!Hibari has no concept of societal rules yet. This fic is incomplete.
☁️💜Thanks for reading if you got this far! I hope to hear from you in my Ask Box! :3 💜☁️
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Bon voyage!