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#idk why I always put all my thoughts into the tags so nobody can see them
pedropascallme · 7 months
Note
u said u are always looking for a reason to write jim smut so let me deliver bc i’m actually so fixated on this movie it’s CRAZYYY!!!!! anyways i would like like a build up to a confession kind of? like there’s so so much romantic and sexual tension and it just like breaks and yeah😭😭 idk if that makes any sense but yk!! ok thank u so much!!! you are amazing dude
In Our Perfect Present Tense
Pairing: Jim x f!Reader
Summary: "And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?"
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), p in v, fingering, praise kink, Jim can be soft!dom if I say so!! Allusions to canon typical violence, I know Cillian Murphy is 5'8 but Jim is 6'2 in my mind, if I missed anything please let me know!!
AN: Max you make my heart go badumbadumbadumbadum (good) I hope this is to your liking <3 Also continuing to cross tag my Cillian fics because my Jim fics rarely gain traction so we are trying some METHODS.
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The cottage was so quiet.
You could hear Hannah shift under the blanket and sigh in her sleep, and though seeing her so peaceful made you feel a pang of protectiveness, watching her chest rise and fall, your mind was elsewhere. Maybe you were still in London, or Manchester, or anywhere else; maybe this was all fake and you had died somewhere along the way. Was this Heaven? Or maybe Purgatory, given that nothing seemed to have changed much.
And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?
No. You closed your eyes and his face flashed across your mind; eyes you wanted to drown in and cheekbones sharp enough to make you bleed. Maybe that’s why you kept him around in the first place. You’d never had to help him, save him from the congregation that chased him down the road; never had to take him to your hideout in the underground. At first, (and you knew this for a fact, at least) it was simply because Mark…bored you. He was cheesy and had a chip on his shoulder, and you didn’t like how he looked at you—didn’t like that he seemed to expect you to fall in love with him. Jim made a good buffer. And it helped that he had such kind eyes that seemed to be full of fear and morbid curiosity, and that he was, in every sense of the word, pretty.
You hadn’t been sad when you’d had to kill Mark.
But once you had made it clear to Jim that you didn’t want to fall in love with him, either, your snap judgement fogging your mind, you thought that was the end of it. Thought maybe he would go out like Mark did. And was it really your fault that Jim assumed you didn’t care about him? You didn’t. You wanted him to think you didn’t. Wanted him to think that he was essentially on his own when you ran up the stairs to the top floor, with his head splitting in pain and your legs going as fast as they could carry you. But when he came up to you that night to apologize to you, thank you, hold out an olive branch, it was then you realized that you felt isolated. And, yes, doomsday will do that to you, but it wasn’t just that. It was that even when humanity was rearing its ugly head, Jim still had the time to recognize and respect you; he was willing to put you first in a way nobody would’ve done even if their life didn’t depend on it.
You felt so guilty that night, touching yourself under the covers with everybody else just a few rooms over.
It was one thing to be wandering around the desolate city with him as your only company, but once you had Frank and Hannah (and a car) you felt like maybe, just maybe, there was hope. There was a glimmer of something behind Jim’s eye when you were eating out on the countryside after ransacking the supermarket—and it could’ve been the way the light was hitting him, or the way he laughed with Hannah, or the fact that he was eating fruit for the first time in weeks, but you thought maybe it had something to do with you. Maybe he had figured out that you did care. About him and about the state of things and about what the hell you would do if there was any sort of relief from running away. You thought about kissing him then, and he might’ve, too. There was a certain tenderness in the way he curled up next to you that night, under the stars.
In another life, he might’ve done it for reasons other than keeping warm.
And then, of course, that all came crashing down. It had been too good to be true, and in retrospect you hated yourself for allowing any harm to come to your small posse. You got out alive, but the hope you had was minimal, at best. Was alive good enough anymore? Was alive good enough when you’d fought off every evil you could think of in the span of 12 hours?
No. It wasn’t until Jim turned around, soaking wet and bleeding, that you realized that being alive was no good if he wasn’t there with you to enjoy it. You’d wanted to wrap yourself in him, to feel the sweat and blood caked on his chest and kiss him until you lost consciousness. Instead, you crumpled to the floor in the red dress that had been forced upon you, hugging yourself to his shins and begging him to tell you he was ok. It was mortifying, only made slightly more bearable when Hannah lobbed a bottle over his head. At least you knew there was still humor to be found in the worst of situations.
Shortly thereafter, when Jim got shot, you were certain that it was all over; you might as well follow him out. Maybe you would’ve if it hadn’t been for Hannah crying silently next to you as she floored the gas and begged you to stay. To do something. For once you felt like you had people worth fighting for other than yourself. It made you dizzy.
Which brought you back to the present.
There were two rooms in the cottage; both were damp and smelled like the lint from a dryer, but having a bed was enough. You had discussed the sleeping situation the night of your arrival, and there had only been some mild bickering.
“I’ll sleep on the floor. S’ok.” Jim remained gentlemanly throughout, but it was apparent, to you, at least, that the person with the bullet hole through their stomach should be able to sleep comfortably.  
“Hannah and I will take one, you’ll take the other.” You were blunt, dancing around the subject of who would end up sharing by deciding then and there to divide it based on sex.
“Wha—” Hannah began to protest before deciding to shut her mouth.
“It’s really not that big a deal,” Jim stood his ground, “I’ll find something to rest on.”
“Absolutely not.” And that’s where you ended it. Saving face, dismissing any deeper urges, leaving no time for Hannah or Jim to propose a different arrangement.  
But now that you were somewhat settled, it felt wrong to be in this room. The wallpaper was a reflective pink, and it felt too bright even in the pitch-black night. You couldn’t get comfortable, and all you could do was mull over every past interaction you’d had with Jim. Every interaction, and the way his mouth moved when he spoke, and the way he smiled at you, and the way he had quite literally killed for you—nearly been killed for you.
You felt hot. Nauseous, even, to the point where you felt that you had to move around or take a walk or do anything to feel more at ease. But it just so happened that you felt the most at ease around Jim.
You tiptoed across the floor and into the hallway. You almost didn’t bother knocking on the door, but felt that you at least owed him that decency.
“C’m’in.”
You peered into the room, allowing yourself a small view of Jim’s shirtless figure splayed out on the bed. You smiled, feeling shy out of nowhere.
“Just wanted to check on you.” You excused yourself, not wanting him to think it any more odd than it already was for you to be in his doorway at midnight. “You feeling ok?”
“Better than ever.” Jim crossed his arms behind his head, sitting up against the pillows. You could see the bandage on his abdomen, and his skin covered in a ray of moonlight.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He smiled, patting the mattress to encourage you to sit with him. You closed the door behind you. “Why’re you really up?”
“Honestly?” You paused to build tension, leaning in slightly, “Hannah snores.” Jim chuckled under his breath. “And…and I don’t really feel at home in that room.”
“Would you feel more at home in this one?”
“Maybe…”
“’Cause if you’d like it, you and Hannah could have it. ‘V’always wanted pink wallpaper, anyway.”
You rolled your eyes, “No, that’s—it’s not that.”
“Then…?” Jim tilted his head slightly, and you looked down and away from him, inhaling deeply.
“Can I stay in here tonight? With—with you?” You could feel your pulse in your throat and though he responded almost immediately, you felt as though hours were passing.
“Sure, f’course.” Jim nodded; eyes wide with eager bewilderment. You swing your legs over the mattress, straightening yourself out beside him. You looked up at the ceiling, lying on your back and waiting to fall asleep.
“Closer.” Jim whispered.
“Hm?”
“Y’can come closer. If you want, I mean.”
“Oh…yeah.” You shuffled closer to him. Somehow you ended up spooning, his hand draped hesitantly over your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and his breath blowing against the hairs on the back of your neck.
“Comfortable?” He was still whispering, as if he would wake the crickets if he spoke any louder.
“Yeah. You?”
“Yeah…” You both fell silent again, and you wondered if he could feel the tension, too, or if it was something you had just made up. You turned over to face him.
“I’m sorry.” You spoke, though his eyes were closed, and you thought maybe he had already fallen asleep.
“For what?” His eyes were still closed when he responded.
“For—you know…” You reached out to graze your fingertips over his bandages, withdrawing it just as quickly when you realized that what you were doing was so forward.
“You didn’t shoot me.”
“I didn’t stop you from getting shot.”
“Not much you could’ve done. Three of us and more of them.” He opened his eyes, “Plus, you drugged Hannah, so just the two of us, really.”
You buried your face into the pillow, “Was trying to help.”
“You did.” Jim reached out to goad you from your hiding spot. “Been nothing but helpful since I met you. Consider this me returning the favor.” You managed to peek an eye out from the pillow to look at him smiling at you. He was so gentle. How could a man who had been comatose while the world was thrown into shambles remain so empathetic?
“Didn’t want you to get hurt.” You mumbled, barely audible when the words came out through the pillow.
“Didn’t want you to get hurt, either. Think I went to all that trouble for myself?”
“No.” You brought your head up to fully look at him.
“Exactly. You would’ve done the same for me.”
“You say that with so much confidence.”
“Cause it’s true. Cocky, but it’s true.”
“It is.”
“True?”
“Cocky,” you smiled when he feigned defeat, “but also true.” You quieted again, keeping eye contact with one another. Jim’s smile faded slightly.
“Why did you help me?” He asked.
“Hm?”
“In the first place, by the gas station—why did you help me?”
You didn’t know how to answer. “I needed the company.”
“You had company.”
“I needed company I would enjoy.”
“What if I wasn’t enjoyable?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I was willing to take that risk.” You raised an eyebrow back at him, mocking his curiosity and his pushback. “And…I mean, plus, you were…I d’know. Tragic. And pretty.”
“Pretty?” His other eyebrow shot up.
“And tragic.” You giggled. “It’s not like I saw you tearing down the street screaming and thought that you only deserved help ‘cause you were good looking, it was just—it’s why I kept you around.” You rolled your eyes, trying to stop yourself from sounding too sincere, unsure if Jim was willing to recognize the attraction you had toward him. Unsure of whether or not you were willing to admit it right here, right now.
“You liked me.” Jim teased.
“I like you,” you clarified, “Present tense.” You averted your eyes from his gaze, opting instead to look down at his wound once more. He gawked at you, grinning. Placing a hand on your chin, he redirected your gaze to his face.
“How long have you been holding out on me?”
“What?”
“How long’ve you been wanting to say that? Not since day one, hm? Since we went to my parents’ house?”
“Didn’t want to say it,” you huffed, “wanted to help you stay alive.”
“C’mon, all that talk about how you didn’t care if I fell in love with you? Cared more than you let on, I knew it. Could’ve saved us so much time if you just came out with it.”
“Shush.” You tried not to dwell on his words, the realization that, this whole time, he was waiting for you.
“Say it again.” He gleamed, “say it again.”
You took his hand from your face, holding it in your own. “Jim,” you brought his hand to your chest, “I like you.”
You couldn’t take a breath before he was on you. You felt his lips first, plush against your own, and then his hands over your waist and his legs tangling with yours. For someone who had almost bled out less than a week ago, he was shockingly quick on his feet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the release of weeks’ worth of tension that had been festering inside of you when his tongue slipped between your lips. You moaned, hands grabbing at any part of him you could reach: You felt his chest against your own and ran a trail down his spine with a finger, feeling him shiver at your touch. He ground his hips into you slightly and you reached for his arms, pulling him in as close as you possibly could.
“Knew it.” He whispered when you pulled away for air. “Knew it.” He began sucking on your neck, running his tongue over your pulse point and licking stripes down your throat. You gasped at the feeling, still trying to touch him wherever you could. You found yourself stroking his jawline while he sucked bruises onto your chest, feeling the way his cheeks hollowed when he made an especially strong mark.
“Jim—” You pleaded, trying to touch him, feel him, all around needing him. It was almost all too much.
He returned to eye level. “Mm?” He kissed your neck again, soothing over the fresh hickeys. “Tell me what you need.”
“You—need you.”
“C’mon,” his grin returned, “specifics.”
“Please,” you needed to feel everything, everywhere, “fuck me.”
“God, sounds so pretty coming out of that mouth.” He stood up from the mattress, pulling you up slightly to allow him to disrobe you. It didn’t take much effort; the threadbare clothes you were trying to pass off as pajamas had already practically disintegrated the moment you had put them on. He shucked his bottoms off before retaking his place on top of you in bed.
“So fucking beautiful,” he kissed you again, “so, so pretty. Wanted to make you feel so good f’so long.”
Feeling confident, you cupped his cheek in your palm, “touched myself thinking about this.”
“F—when? Thought about me while you touched yourself? Tell me.” It was a breathless demand, and you could feel his erection throbbing above you.
“The night in the apartment. Came on my fingers, came so hard while I thought of how good you’d fuck me—oh!” Your sexy display was cut short when you felt his fingers brush your clit.
“Yeah? Touched right here and thought of how nice I’d fuck this pussy?” You whimpered at the way he massaged you just right, and his words only added fuel to the fire. “Should’ve just asked me to take care of you, baby, would’ve helped.” God, he was wicked. Such a good man, and so, so wicked for speaking to you like this. You arched your back, and he took the opportunity to slide two fingers into your cunt. “Fuck,” he huffed, delighted by how wet you were for him, and your eyes rolled back, “get yourself this wet? Or is it just me?”
“You, fuck, Jim—it’s you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Cocky bastard.” You managed between whines and gasps.
“You love it.”  He continued to push his fingers in and out of you, and a delightful squelching noise filled the bedroom. “Fucking beautiful.” He kept at it for a while longer, enjoying the noises you made for him and the way your face contorted when he hit an especially sensitive spot. When he pulled his fingers from you, you sighed, feeling the low of being empty, until he brought the wet digits to your mouth and encouraged you to clean them off for him. He let out a low groan when you began sucking, using your tongue to gather your slick off from in between them. “Yeah, good girl.”
He slotted himself between your thighs, and you could feel the drag of his cock over your stomach. You looked down, wrapping a hand around him and ogling him; so long, so beautifully outlined by thick veins. He gently grasped your wrist, pushing your hand back onto the mattress.
“Wanna make this last.” He half-joked. He kept your arm pinned under him, and you could feel his tip exploring your folds, until finally he pushed himself into you. You let out a shaky, breathless moan as he shallowly thrusted into you, working you open to take him as deep as you could. When he bottomed out, he leaned his forehead against yours, and you could feel the stickiness of sex and sweat on your skin.
“Good, yeah?” He was still being smug, though ensuring you were comfortable. You felt devious, rolling your hips against him and grinning in response, earning a choked “fuck” from him. “Dirty fucking girl.” He pulled out almost entirely before thrusting back into you, forcefully enough that you felt your back drag against the bed. Your tits bounced as he rocked his hips into you, and he took the opportunity to grab one in his hand, taking the other in his mouth.
“Jim!” You couldn’t remember your own name, could barely remember who you were or how you got here; all you could think was Jim, Jim, Jim. “Fu—uck, oh my god, Jim!”
“Gonna wake up the whole neighborhood?” He was incapable of being serious even in the most intimate of moments, knowing full well that the people in this house were the only living souls for miles. “Gonna make sure everybody knows who’s fucking you?” Your lips parted, letting out small moans and whimpers of his name with every thrust.
You could feel his fingers on your clit again, and the feeling was electric; maybe it was because you had wanted him for so long, and tried to deny it for almost as long, but you’d never felt this good—never felt this perfectly sated. The way he kneaded your swollen bud while pounding into you hard enough to make the bedframe shake, the way he whispered such filthy things into the skin of your breasts, the way he wanted you too.
“Gonna—Jim, I’m gonna cum!” You tried to move in sync with him, but it was all too much; he was everywhere, and it was going to be your undoing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to fuck you deeper. He leaned over you, tracing his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your face in one hand.
“Cum for me, baby. So good, my perfect girl, cum on my cock like this.” You were as good as gone. You felt your legs tighten around his body at the same time as your cunt clenched around his length. You dug your nails into the skin of his arm, and he growled at the way your body responded to him. “Yeah, like that—just like that, sweetheart.”
You were trembling, dripping down his cock and unsure of how to rationalize this amount of pleasure in the midst of end times. Who cared, anyway? You felt fuzzy, barely registering Jim’s words as his strokes became messier and rushed, catching up to you with his own high.
“Want it inside,” you mumbled through your haze, “please, inside.”
“Can’t fucki—can’t say that baby, can’t risk it.”
“Please…” You knew how stupid it was, knew that he would have to say no, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.
“When we get out of England—when we get out of England, I’ll fill you up as much as you want. Yeah?” He slammed himself into you, and his words bounced around inside of your head: “When we get out,” “as much as you want.” If you weren’t so spent, you’d cum for him again from that statement alone. “Promise I will, whenever you want it, baby.”
“Mm.” You sighed contentedly at his assurance. “Tummy.”
“Yeah, good girl, gonna paint you with my cum.” He groaned when you reached up to brush your fingers down his happy trail.
“Give it to me. Please, Jim. Needed it f’so long.” Your mouth hung open, sensitive and sore from his cock and his hands, and somehow still so needy for him, desperate to see him to completion. He buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent and letting your moans fill his ears as his hips stuttered and he pulled out. You felt his knuckles against your stomach as he stroked himself, finally feeling the warmth of his spend land and spread across your abdomen with a long moan of your name. You stayed like that, both of you breathing heavily, Jim lying on top of you. The gluey feeling of his cum on your stomach and your own between your thighs only heightened when he sat up on his elbow, looking down at you to appreciate how pretty you looked after being fucked out, and you could see the strands of cum dripping between your bodies.
“So beautiful.” He kissed you again, and despite the passion from the last kisses still being present, he was significantly gentler with you in your bleary state.
You blinked up at him, smiling through the fog in your brain, and hugging him close to you. “Gonna have to change your bandages. Covered in your own cum.”
“But what a way to go, right?” He laughed, and you buried your face into him further. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “Need a towel?”
“Would it be gross to sleep like this?”
“Gross? No. Uncomfortable? Maybe.”
“I’ll take my chances. Too tired to wash off.”
“As long as you’re alright.” He brushed your hair away from your eyes, maneuvering himself to look down at you while you were pressed to his chest.
“Feel amazing.” You reassured him. “Should’ve said something earlier.”
“No,” Jim pet your hair, smoothing it down over the back of your head, “this was perfect timing.”
“Perfect timing.” You murmured his words back to him in agreement.
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seven-thewanderer · 4 months
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An introduction!! 💖
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Welcome to my blog!! I know this is my 3rd intro but hush hushy hushy
I am Seven, and I use both she/her and he/him pronouns (with no preference)!!
I am both bisexual and bigender, but am still figuring myself out (since I may also be somewhere on the aroace spectrums)
I am a minor (but I am not actually seven, Seven's just my online nickname it's not my age), so don't be inappropriate. please. (not saying nobody can be nsfw anywhere, just please not directed at me)
Some examples of things I like (cus why not):
My friends!! (both online & irl)
Sweets (some sweets, not all)
Apple Cider Donuts (I will go crazy over apple cider donuts)
Stuffies/Plushies
Forest-like vibes (idk how to word it)
Nature
Most bugs (so yeah this blog may get a slight cw for bugs) (especially with the bugs on my sona's hat)
And some examples of things I dont like:
Chocolate (stating this first cus I often get offered chocolate and I just. I don't like chocolate.)
Pizza
My space/privacy getting invaded
Homophobes & Transphobes
Art theft
And there's probably more things I like & dislike but I can't think of everything XD
Also, please don't interact if you're:
Homophobic
Transphobic
Ableist
Racist
Pedo
And the more common lists of DNI (that everyone except me knows XD) (but yeah if you know that common list and you fit as one of the DNIs then you know that means don't interact)
And now it's time for the...
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(if it's hard to read it says "Tags" in all caps)
Some of the tags I use commonly a lot are tags like:
My Art (plus the non-mobile link) (since I'm pretty sure the first one is the mobile link)
Random Post (plus non-mobile link)
Random Reblog (plus non-mobile link)
Random Art Reblog (plus non-mobile link)
Then there's the important tags like:
Important reblog (plus non-mobile link)
Important (plus non-mobile link)
Then there's less important tags:
rant (plus non-mobile link)
<3 & 💖 (I didn't put links for these cus they're honestly very hard to track, they're unconsistant) (I can't link every sparkle heart post with just 1 sparkle heart, it's a random number of em)
Intro (this just lets you see all the intros I've made, which I believe is just 3? idk) (plus non-mobile link) (it's actually about to be 4 now. huh. I always thought I had 2 before this one.)
Then there's character tags like:
Sona (plus non-mobile link)
Sonas (yes they're separate blame past me) (here's non-mobile link)
my ocs (plus non-mobile link)
devicesonas (plus non-mobile link)
Clowns (so if you don't like clowns avoid this tag) (plus non-mobile link)
There's also character-specific tags:
Seven - my main sona (plus non-mobile link)
Silly - my silly goofy lil sona (plus non-mobile link)
Tabby - my tablet devicesona (plus non-mobile link)
Chromey - my chromebook devicesona (plus non-mobile link)
Swii - my switch devicesona (plus non-mobile link)
Phon - my phone devicesona (plus non-mobile link) I'll add more tags for any more sonas that get tags, like if I ever tag my piranha plant sona by their name, and if I actually share that new sona I made while I was gone.... (also apparently I haven't tagged Swii & Phon before, but I swear I tagged em once)
Then some extra tags like:
Tag game (plus non-mobile link)
Asks (plus non-mobile link)
Ask game (plus non-mobile link)
And I have a few AU tags like:
Sun & Moon AUs (plus non-mobile link)
SAMS AU (plus non-mobile link)
Treats! AU (plus non-mobile link) Also I've kinda lost my hyperfixation on Sun & Moon, so probably no more Sun & Moon AU content, but they'll still have a tag
And then some fandom-like tags I've kinda done (they're not gonna be linked, sorry):
FNAF (Five Nights at Freddy's)
AAF (Andy's Apple Farm)
Fandroid/Fandroid the Musical Robot
QSMP
TWOMP (The World of Mr. Plant)
Gen Loss (Generation Loss)
Diep.io (yes I did once post a Diep.io oc don't question me)
Rainworld
SAMS (Sun and Moon Show) & some of the other channels (honestly Im kinda losing interest in this but I can't escape it's a daily thing it makes me wanna see what happens each day like what if I miss something-)
Deltarune
Undertale
Roblox T2D/Roblox T2D DCO (Roblox Try to Die/Roblox Try to Die DCO)
Pokemon (and Fakemon but idk if that counts as a fandom)
Some of these I'm barely in, but I still like it
There's also some I either haven't done content for, or haven't shared yet like:
Murder Drones
Spooky Month
The Amazing Digital Circus (yes I do like TADC, I dare yall to guess my favorite character) (...or maybe favorites)
Chikn Nuggit
Billie Bust Up
Plus others I cannot think of rn XD
(Also I'm not in the Cookie Run fandom anymore, but I do still like looking at others' fan content)
Now, to exit the tags section, we have my side blog to mention!!
I've brought it up before, but I do have a side blog, which is specifically for a silly lil species I made called Floserds!!
Short summary: Flower Cows. That's legit the best I can give.
I'm leaving the rest of the details over to that blog, but yeah!!
I mainly bring that blog up though because if anyone's interested in the content there, then they can look at it!! However, I don't really want it to be either forced, or just for you to follow it because it's my side blog. It's mainly just if anyone's interested in the idea.
Of course, if nobody's interested in it then that's fine too, of course!!!
But yeah that side blog is @floserd-theflowercows!!
(also, so irrelevant but on the topic of sideblogs, it's a lil fun fact: one of my other sonas, Silly, was actually supposed to have a sideblog, but I didn't do it, since I thought it'd just be this blog, but sillier. Thus Silly doesn't have a sideblog)
But yeah so that this intro doesn't get too long, that's it!!! I hope anyone who's new here has fun!!!
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sam-loves-seb · 3 months
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i was tagged by the wonderful @energievie yesterday but i never got around to it so i'm doing it today to answer some end of the year questions 💙
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 
171
2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 
1,126,901
3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
don't act like you don't know
i know they're watching
oh lover boy
take me out (& take me home)
why do you do this to yourself
4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
always! if people are kind enough to leave me a little message at the end of my works, i want to be able to take the time to respond to it
5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
oh god, i don't know i don't really write anything with angsty endings, i'm a lover of happy endings almost exclusively, so i guess i'll have to go with--
so this is christmas
6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
too many to choose from tbh uhh [spins wheel] [flips coin] this one
if it makes you happy
7. Do you write crossovers?
hell yes, i'm a slut for a good crossover, here i have two:
stuck in reverse
made for lovin' you
8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?
lmao ooooh yeah
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
[sighs] yes, on occasion, but i haven't written any for my current hyperfixation yet (gallavich) but i kinda wanna put some in my bb fic so we'll see if that happens
it also doesn't help that it takes me nine million years to write smut because every time i do i blush like a fucking virgin for literally no reason
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
not that i know of
11. Have you ever had a fic translated?
yeah, a few times
12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
i've never co-written a fic before, but i've definitely co-plotted many a fic
13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?
idk u guys i usually say joshdonna from the west wing, but gallavich game them a run for their money this year tbh like i'm down so bad it might actually be them now
14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
probably a place in my heart will always be hers solely because i never came up with an actual ending for it so even if by some chance i update it eventually, i doubt i'll ever really finish it
15. What are your writing strengths?
dialogue and characterization (i think?)
16. What are your writing weaknesses?
pacing and consistency
17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
if you can speak/read/write other languages then i say go for it, but me personally i only speak english so you will not see me attempting other languages in a fic bc i know i will butcher it and nobody wants that
18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?
marvel? like a decade ago? probably clintnat or stevebucky and i orphaned all of them
19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?
ooo good question, idk i've toyed with the idea of writing feysand (acotar) fics before and even started a couple after my last re-read, but i've never fully pulled the trigger on it. maybe someday i will
20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written
what we stay alive for
tagging anyone who wants to play, this was really fun
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matchamenace · 1 year
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Who are some of your favorite Mileven blogs and why? Let’s spread some positivity and smiles on this fine Friday🌻🐛🌼 then tag 3 other blogs to keep the smiles going.
Oh goodness!! Let's see here agsjsksksk
@dxncingwithastrxnger ABSOLUTE KING 👑🔥🔥🔥 Nothing but good vibes and the fluffiest fics and headcanons you'll ever read!! 🙌 They put SO much thought and care into their posts and are just such a pleasure to interact with 😋💕 Honestly my go-to if I'm looking for lighthearted, feel-good content. (ILY ALEX!!!!!!!! 👋)
@purpleangelsele ACTUAL CINNAMON ROLL ✨ (Sweet with a hint of spice 😎👉👉) Probably one of the friendliest people I've met online lol! Doesn't matter what I post, I can always count on Sel to give me some sort of engagement and I fkin love it!! 🤣 As for their content it's mostly fun and cute headcanons, but they definitely don't shy away from the occasional hot take or petty post 😌 Tons of personality. Great sense of humor. LOVE THEM!!! 💜💜💜
@mikes-pineapple-pizza Incredibly articulate and astute observations!! 🙌✨ Has a knack for breaking down a variety of ST topics (including, but not limited to Mileven) in a way that's intelligent, but also very chill and unpretentious. Idk. Their content just really speaks to me and I think they're super cool. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Fr tho, this person could make a podcast just analyzing anything in the show and I would EAT IT UP!!!! 🔥🔥🔥
@claire-de-lune Ah man the duality of Claire.... 🤣🤣🤣 Deliciously petty, but simultaneously has some of the sweetest and unique headcanons to offer! 🥰 A VERY passionate Mileven defender who won't take shit from nobody, but an absolute delight to have on your side 😜💕
@lenorahills @fricchead @rllybritrlly @pumpkingface BITCHIN' ARTISTS!!! Each have such cute and unique illustration styles, and it's ridiculous how excited I get everytime they post new content asksksk 🙈💕 As an artist myself, I could not recommend them more 🙌
Anyway I think I'm gonna end descriptions here, but here's some other Mileven blogs I adore:
@truessences @teafiend @flamingfalcon3 @bcyoureallthatmakessense @pjo-fan17 @elsmike @crisperia @reganx2 @mikewheely
It definitely doesn't end there, but I'm feeling lazy today, so I sincerely apologize to anyone I might've excluded! I still love and appreciate you all!!! 😘
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worldofgoo · 10 months
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ask prompt from a few days ago im answering late because ive been out. ty @divinerevelation !! and these are the prompts im using. uhh it turned out long so watch out
(im answering this for my oc cobalt, you can see pictures of him in his tag on my blog)
🍎 [RED APPLE] Who does your OC value above all else?
As he exists right now, nobody at all really? It’s basically the conceit of his character that he’s closed himself off from any social connection and just lives in his own little world focusing on his work mostly. I guess I could say “himself” but he also doesn’t really take his own agency very seriously, but I guess he does take care of himself which does indicate some level of value he places in himself.
He will undergo changes as the story progresses but I’m always very uncertain and conflicted on the story so... can’t really answer accurately for that right now.
🥭 [MANGO] What colours best represent them and why? Does this differ from their favourites? 
Bluueeeeee:3 All my ocs are color coded in my head, but I lean really hard into it for the main cast of this story, each one being one of the 6 main colors of the color wheel. Have had various thoughts about what those colors could mean symbolically, esp their placements relative to each other, but ultimately I think it’s mostly about the associations I have for them in my head.
Mostly I kind of see blue as a distant cousin to purple? Purple is My color, and I give it to a few of my faves/self inserts. But I kind of view Cobalt as kind of a “hue shift” of like, myself and my personality? If that makes any sense. He is definitely Blue. Like deep intense screen of death blue. I guess it happens to line up with the view of blue = sad but he isn’t exactly sad just kind of... closed off? His coping mechanisms leave him fairly comfortable in day to day life. And I think I also value this shade of blue for its intensity and he doesn’t lose the association when he opens up more, meaning its associations aren't always negative.
Is it also his favorite color? I kind of like the idea of it being assigned to him by chance (happening to have blue items, being assigned a blue uniform, things like that) and he just became accustomed to it and often has blue things out of habit. I don’t know what he would consider his “favorite” color if he had to choose? I assigned him pink the other day bc it matches well with blue lol.
🍈 [MELON] If they had to be put into a box, what box would it be and why? 
If you mean box trope-wise, I think he would be most apparent as like, “asshole with a heart of gold”? Like he’s distant and treats people coldly but when push comes to shove he will act on his actual morals and values, which is that people shouldn’t suffer, so if he actually believes he has a way to help somebody he will.
At one point when I made this story I wanted all the characters to be presented as one trope and then get revealed to actually be the opposite (like idk it turns out that while he acts like he hates people he is actually a bleeding heart), but I kind of realized that I was trying to reinvent the wheel when those kinds of tropes and archetypes have been done hundreds of times. Though I am still intending to add some level of irony, I guess, to his characterization along those lines I just don’t think it necessarily excludes him from still being fairly identifiable as following a specific set of archetypes.
This could of course change in practice, but those are my thoughts on it right now at least.
🥝 [KIWI FRUIT] How does their outside appearance differ from who they are? 
His outward appearance is very dispassionate and inexpressive, and people who see him generally assume that he is annoyed or pissed off with them, which is an impression he doesn’t make any efforts to dispel. I think there is a certain percent of the time where he is genuinely annoyed with people, but a lot of the time, he just kind of looks like that and is just vibing. I think the biggest thing that people don’t expect about him is that he’s actually fairly observant and listens to the conversations around him and notices things about people, which can lead to him being interested in people’s problems even if he never gives voice to it.
I think what adds to people’s assumptions about him is also the way he dresses, which tends to lean towards formal/practical. I always draw him with a white lab coat which would definitely make people assume he is doing some kind of Science Stuff but I’ll be honest I don’t know if he’s usually wearing that, lol. But even then it’s often some kind of uniform or work wear. He also ties his hair back which I think in the cultural context also makes him seem kind of formal/businesslike? Basically he comes off as very serious-looking and like he’s very busy and put together, which I guess aren’t altogether inaccurate. He takes a lot of pride in his work and spends most of his time thinking about it and he likes to keep things neat.
🍆 [EGGPLANT] How are they used by others? How easily are they tricked into this?
So.... hm. He knows very well that his life isn’t really under his control. But I think that there are subtle ways where he is still being manipulated to continue to feel that way. I know that’s vague I’m not sure how to explain it without coming off as pretentious or stuff but its like. The System and all that.
The thing is though, while he always goes on about accepting his place in the world and how ultimately all he can do is follow the path that’s expected of him, he has this kind of like, understated rebellious streak? Like he isn’t loyal to the Evil Space Government he is very stubborn about doing what HE wants when he can get away with it.
Like I realize I view him as like a hacker type guy which I think is interesting considering all his other characterization being all about his apathy about the way things are and how he can't change it, but then here he is doing super skilled and illegal #rebel shit basically just, for shits and giggle lol. Kind of tangential at this point but it's relevant to how he doesn't actually let people control him as much as he maybe tends to assume he does. In general he doesn't like being tricked or doing things he doesn't want to do and tries to be as informed as he can even if he still does ultimately get mislead and lied to just because he had no way to know otherwise.
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Bunch of Sylvain x Heather information ^o^
I planned to do it for all fe3h F/Os but like. Sylvain takes up too much space on his own so for sure he's getting his separate post. But idk when or if I'll do it with Cyril, Hilda and Claude lol
Didn't play hopes so no stuff with hopes!
Pre game
Actually there isn't a lot to be said there. I just wanted to point out that Heather did see Sylvain once or twice while she was living in the kingdom.
I mean it can also fit here a little bit because it's before Byleth makes their appearance so ama describe their first meeting.
He approached her like any other girl and she thought that his flirtatious behavior was a joke, so yeah she ended up laughing in his face but not in a mocking way.
When she found out that he actually wasn't joking she started feeling bad- so she invited him for some tea as an apology for her "disrespectful behavior".
So yeah ever since that moment they started meeting up more and became friends. Because both agreed that the situation while awkward- was sort of funny.
Pre timeskip/general stuff
The causal affection is everything. Heather loves affection but she's only affectionate to people she deems special.
So like, Sylvain being the first person she's comfortable touching is one thing. The other is that her main display of affection is this:
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Of course she also likes to hold hands, hug etc but she mostly just does the bonk.
They like to play board games together. Actually that's what they mainly bonded with.
Sometimes when Heather gets terrible love letters from her suitors she'd joke around with Sylvain about them to feel better about the situation.
Heather easily stumbles over her words and says the opposite of what she means when she's tired without realizing it, but Sylvain always knows just what she really wants to say.
They jokingly flirt a lot. Heather just finds his lines funny (even when he really means them she still just can't help but giggle).
They skip any additional training like fire. So together they make up excuses for each other.
While she doesn't care for her own reputation, she does care about Sylvain's even though she knows he doesn't care that much. It's just a matter of her worrying about what people might do because of something made up.
To talk about in game stuff: during the chapter with Miklan... Well things were tough at first. But to comfort him Heather decided to act like nothing happened. She listened to him when he wanted to talk about it. However, she didn't start the topic herself ever. She didn't act out of pity either. She was just ready to support him however she could.
Heather is the first one to catch feelings, it's 2 months before Sylvain does but since his feelings start around the ball things get too complicated to make it work.
Post timeskip
THE MUTUAL CRUSHING HITS HARD. The worry, the regrets just EVERYTHING.
They were far from each other for so long and the moment they reunite it just HITS them again.
Sylvain had literally nobody to talk to about it untill one day Mercedes made him spill the beans.
Heather on the other hand sort of gave up? It's a bit hard to put it in words but during the time between the timeskip she sort of started thinking this wasn't going to go anywhere, especially since they had more important things to worry about.
With how she still couldn't process what was happening with the war (and in AM Claude not being around) Sylvain was literally her escape from reality (haha that's why my Sylvain tag is this lol the more you know).
Things between them pretty much stayed the same for the most part. And that's what made them love each other even more. Since to them it only confirmed that no matter what happens they can count on each other to always make each other happy.
Post game
I could say that "They got married and lived happily ever after" but it wasn't exactly that.
Even after Sylvain proposing they both needed some time.
One thing is them having to settle things on their family territories and just being busy with post war things.
The other is that they were both scared of their feelings. Of course neither planned to hurt the other but there were these kind of doubts that made them anxious.
Still they wrote to each other almost all the time they were away from each other. And they kept all of their letters safe so they could read them anytime~
Things started to hit get better and better ever since Heather decided to surprise Sylvain with a visit! Then they were almost inseparable from that point.
He had to get her used to the cold weather of the kingdom- so her first full year there was filled with sick days hah... But she wanted to stay there!
And having Sylvain take care of her was sort of making her feel spoiled to be honest. At one point he thought that she was being reckless with her health on purpose fr /j
Also very important detail for me but these two are childfree. Can't have crest babies when you don't have babies at all, right?
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evcndiaz · 1 year
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2022 writing review
tagged by: @rosesau. honestly? i'm pretty sure other people have tagged me but i wanted to wait until the very last day of december to do this because i knew i still had one more fic (101 Ways) in me so! i am sorry if you tagged me in this towards the middle/beginning of december, i forgot but i still ly
1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 14
2. Word count posted for the year: 90,600
3. Fandoms I wrote for: 9-1-1
4. Pairings: buck/eddie
5. Story with the most: 
kudos: hear me now (1733) bookmarks: also hear me now (506) comment threads: aaaand here me now again (83)
6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): bite your tongue to watch it bleed was just a stream of conscious thought turned into fic. I put Eddie on Frank's couch but it was mostly therapy for me.
7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): CATWS au because it was the most disingenuous thing i have ever written lol
8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: I've returned to Charlie (@safeashousespdf)'s comments on the bullet in my gun several times and think about them often
SHUT UPPPPP SHUT UP OKAY THIS IS SO GOOD. The use of flashbacks, the way there are all these different bits and bobs and styles all gnarled together and how it reflects all the chaos of Eddie's thoughts and his conversation with Frank and then it all just-- Freezes. Like I physically felt time slow down. Idk how you did it but that whole long flashback about Alex and high school and all of that stuff, I could literally feel it taking place between seconds. And the DIALOGUE of Eddie and Frank just having a go at each other like this?? Oh what a serve. I love when it's busy at the therapy appointment and the closeted gay men get mean <3 ALSO** RAMON AS A LONG HAUL TRUCKER WORKS SO WELL AND IS SOMETHING I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED..... ALSO SIDE NOTE: "Careful with that body, boy. People will see everything you don't want them two." I'M SO FUCKING OBSESSED WITH THIS LINE. I love when author's address characters directly for a brief moment because it's like, who is speaking?? Is Eddie saying this to himself? Is his father? Is it someone else? Are we breaking the fourth wall by acknowledging Eddie as a character, trapped within a narrative that doesn't want him to be happy??? IS IT ALL OF THE ABOVE??? And the way you refer to his body as a secondary object: something he owns rather than something he is. Something that he can commodify, he can sell it to the military or to his father or manipulate it so that nobody can see who he really is. That also fucked me up. Anyway this was incredible, Jack.
9. A time when writing was really, really hard: Buddie Big Bang was one the worst writing experiences of my life. Will I probably do it again? Sure. But I hated it in the moment.
10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Writing smut in CATWS AU and Bittersweet and Cruel. I've never wanted to write smut, and still don't want to. Hated every second of it, never doing that again.
11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: Honestly? I have quite a few lines that had me shook, like, purely just cannot believe they came from my brain. But the first two bits that came to mind are
across our great divide:
El Paso has a way of drawing blood, all hometowns do. That's how your roots grow, after all, right through the soil upon which you bled and then back up under your skin, forever tying you to the land that birthed you.
speak in the silence:
[...] As if love is a currency, a bartered exchange between two distant parties. Hell, maybe in his family, that is all it will ever be. But that is not is not love. Love is a garden that leaves blossoms on your tongue and teeth, planting seeds every time you kiss the cheek of someone you adore and cradle. Love is soot under your nails and smoke in your skin, because love always leaves the ninety-nine to save the one. Love is the giggle of your son pressed against the cotton of your shirt, and a rosepetal birthmark above a strong brow set in a kind face, and a home-cooked meal spread out on a long wooden table. Love, Eddie knows now, is an action verb; it is not just an inkstain in Merriam-Webster's; it lives and breathes and weaves and anchors. It exists, even if it runs dry within the walls of his parents' home.
12. How did you grow as a writer this year: I finally became more settled into my identity as a writer; I know what I like. I know what I don't. I know what ways I still want to challenge myself, what things aren't for me. I took risks with enormous payoff and I took risks that I maybe shouldn't have, but I did them and that's what matters most at the end of it, since the past cannot be rewritten.
13. How do you hope to grow next year: Not sure! I guess I'll figure it out as the opportunities come along.
14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc): @kitkatpancakestack @malinaa and @rosesau, you guys challenge and inspire my writing all the time so thank you <3
15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: *gestures wildly at bite your tongue*
16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: You will never, ever, ever write like anyone/everyone else. Even your favorite authors, so please stop trying. Embrace who you are as a writer and, if you don't know who that is, explore it. You are the only one who can/will ever write like you so don't hide behind trying to write like others; it won't work and it'll only make you miserable.
17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: Most of my projects are for IRL writing, but! My goals are to: finish the second draft of my {REDACTED NOVEL}, explore the bounds of an idea I have for a short story collection in the same universe, and publish a few fun fic things along the way :) :) :)
18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @extasiswings @sabitchhh @kitkatpancakestack @kirkaut @rewritetheending @raisesomehale @malinaa <333
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louveyous · 1 year
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🚨🚨🚨 new ask game alert 🚨🚨🚨
: drop your favorite lyric from each fitf song and let us see if you have taste or not!
i was tagged by emmy @faithinlouisfuture 🌟 ty beloved mwa
The Greatest
I said you know me / Alone, we're only / Just as good as the rest / Together, we're the greatest
Written All Over Your Face
Hey babe / It's written all over your face, say it / A hurricane behind the door / So when you find out what we're fighting for / I'll be ready to talk
both verses are so so good 🫦
Bigger Than Me
So come on, call me liar / Yeah, you're so quick to judge / 'Cause, yeah, I might have changed / But everybody does
Lucky Again
I'm a hard man to find / But you figured it out and I love you for that / Look back on a time / I was lucky once, I could be lucky again
everything tbh 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔
Face the Music
Close your eyes and count to ten / If you're standin' on the edge of fallin' / Open up and looking down / Everything that matters is forgotten
this tweet destroyed me actually
Chicago
They say, "Bitter ends turn sweet in time" / Is that true of yours and mine?
All This Time
But the friends we make, the love it takes / It's worth, it's worth, it's worth the pain / The friends we make, the love it takes / It's worth, it's worth, it's worth it all this time
EVERYTHING....... everything 🥹 absolutely love this song
Out Of My System
I've lived a lot of my life already / But I gotta get through the rest
Headline
Sometimes, I wake up and I hear you through the silence / You let your pride hide all your beauty and your kindness / So fast to judge in error, you thought you knew me better / So quick to kill forever
the chorus too i'm addicted
Saturdays
Through my cigarette / A shadow of you sticks me to the carpet / Try to ignore it / Somethin' about the way / The light catches the mirror in my brain / It gives me shade
the bridge too ✊️😔
Silver Tongues
You said love was a pretty lie / And I choked when your smoke got in my eye / Bad logic and empty cans / I know nobody understands / Me like you do
She Is Beauty We Are World Class
Are we one or are we two? / Are we me or are we you?
don't ask me why idk either...., critics will bash her but idc it's a vibe
Common People
Common people / Not who you know / Just how far you're willing to go
Angels Fly
Look at the horizon / Does it make you feel small? / Put the pain behind you now / You don't need it anymore
i love every lyric btw
Holding On To Heartache
You know the party's over / When you're standin' in an empty space alone / And time can always heal you / If you let it make its way into your bones / Nothing's ever easy / To be honest, I'm not easy on myself / The second that I see you / The space between us just comes floodin' back
everything..... again!!😣 !! best-written song in the album (my opinion). i love every lyric frfr istg 😔😔😔
That's The Way Love Goes
When it cuts you, when you bleed, that's when you're feelin' it the most / That's the way, that's the way love goes
Paradise
Lately, lately it’s been so easy / To see my life completed / Instead of halfway full
So I’m not gonna spend / Another night of dreaming / Of what could’ve been
two for paradise bc im greedy 😔
not tagging anyone but if you see this and want to do it, please do!!
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link-lonk · 3 years
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I'm just trying to manifest a MadoHomu dual unit over here don't mind me
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Alright, I read your recent post and need to know - what is your interpretation of Maglor’s relationship with the twins?
askjdhslkjag my biggest self-inflicted problem in this fandom is that my take on maglor, elrond, and elros' relationship is so intensely detailed and specific i am forever tormented by none of the fic i read ever quite getting it right (from my perspective; i’ve read plenty of fic that presents a good interpretation on their own terms, it’s just never mine.) it’s simultaneously way darker than the fluffy kidnap dads stuff and nowhere near as black-and-white awful as the anti-fëanorian crowd likes to paint it, it’s messy and complicated and surrounded by darkness, and yet there’s also a sincere connection within it which mostly serves to make all those complications worse. angry teenage elrond is angry for a great many reasons, and the circumstances around him being raised by kinslayers account for at least half of them. there’s lots of complexity here, and i don’t see it in fic nearly as often as i’d like
(warning: the post... feathers? i already have an internet friend called faeiri this could be awkward - anyway, the post she’s talking about includes the line ‘everyone is wrong about kidnap dads except me.’ this post follows on from that in being as much a commentary about why various popular interpretations of both how the kidnapdoption went and the way people subsequently characterise the twins just don’t work for me as it is a setting out of my own ideas. i’m not really interested in getting into discourse here, i’m just trying to get my thoughts down. i’ve read fic with these interpretations before that i’ve liked, even, don’t take this as a Condemnation, aight? also this turned out long as hell, so i’m putting it under a cut)
i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads
which isn’t to say i don’t read them! sometimes all i want is something sweet, for these kids to get to be happy for once. it’s not like i think their time with the fëanorians was completely devoid of laughter
it’s just. the pet names, the special days out, the home-cooked meals, it can get so treacly it stops feeling like the characters they are in the situation they’re in and turns into Generic Found Family #272
it soaks out all the complexity - which is the thing i am here for - and acts like oh, these kids were never in any danger, they were perfectly happy being abducted by the people who murdered everyone they knew, there’s nothing possibly questionable about this relationship at all
and... yeah. that’s not the characters i know. that’s not the context i know they belong to
i just can’t forget the circumstances that led them to meet
rivers of blood, the air filled with screams, a town ablaze, a woman choosing to die. every interaction the three of them have is going to proceed from that nightmare
(sidenote: i tend to hold it was maglor that raised the twins, with maedhros looming ominously in the background not really getting involved. it’s mostly personal preference, i’ve been in and out of the fandom since before this kidnap dads thing blew up and when i joined that was a perfectly standard reading)
(also the cave thing was a dumb idea, old man, if only because it implies beleriand had streams safe enough for children to play in at that point. the way it separates the twins from the third kinslaying is also something i don’t particularly vibe with)
probably my least favourite angle i’ve seen on the situation (edged out only by ‘maglor was actively abusive towards the twins’ which no no no no no no no no NO) is the idea that maglor (and/or maedhros, append as necessary) took the twins specifically to raise them
like, i get where it’s coming from, but it makes maglor come off as really creepy
(i have read fics where it is indeed played off as really creepy, but that’s not a maglor i have any interest in reading about)
(’mags 100% bad’ is just as facile a take to me as ‘mags 100% good’)
even if you’re saying maglor took them in because they had no one left to take care of them - i highly doubt they were the only children the fëanorians orphaned at sirion. idk, it always makes maglor seem much less sympathetic than i think it’s meant to
i prefer to think of it as more... organic? something that evolved, not something that was preordained. them growing closer gradually, the twins finding an adult who might maybe be on their side, maglor becoming invested in them almost by accident
and then the twins are so comfortable with the second scariest monster in amon ereb they frequently sass him off and maglor’s gotten so used to not hurting them he’s not even thinking about it any more. no one’s quite sure how it happened, but they’ve made a Connection
‘wait aren’t they a murderous warlord of questionable mental stability and a pair of terrified small children who’ve lost everyone they ever knew? isn’t that kinda fucked up?’ yup! that’s the point! complexity!
another idea i don’t like is the idea that maglor was an objectively better parent to the twins than eärendil or elwing
other people have talked about this already, i won’t rehash the whole thing. i will say that while i don’t think elwing was a perfect parent - someone so young, in such a horrible situation, i wouldn’t blame her for screwing up - i do think she (and eärendil) did the best by them they possibly could
this is one of the few things they have in common with maglor
something i come across now and again is the idea that sure, elwing and eärendil weren’t abusive or horrible or anything, but they were a couple of basically-teenagers with so many other responsibilities, there was only so much they could do. maglor, on the other hand, is an experienced adult who could take much better care of the twins
and...
first off, it’s not like mags doesn’t have a job. he’s a warlord, he has a fortress to help run, military shit to handle, lots of other stuff that needs to get done to stop everyone from starving or getting eaten by orcs. i feel like sirion had enough of a government there was plenty of opportunity for elwing to take days off and play with her kids, but in the fëanorian camp nobody really has the time to chase after a couple of toddlers, least of all one of the last points on the command network. they just don’t have the people any more
(seriously, the twins getting a formal education with tutors and classes and shit is a weirdly specific pet peeve of mine. this is a band of renegades, not a royal household; if there’s anyone left with those kinds of skills they almost certainly have more important things to do)
more than that, though - well, a quick glance through my late stage fëanorians tag should tell you a lot about what i think maglor’s mental state is like at this point. he is so accustomed to violence death means nothing to him, he’s lost most of his capacity for genuinely positive emotion to an endless century of defeat and despair, he hates everything in the universe, especially himself, he’s only able to keep functioning through a truly astounding amount of denial, and he covers it all up with a layer of snark and feigned apathy, which he defends aggressively because he’s subconsciously realised that if it breaks he’ll have absolutely nothing left
(maedhros, for the record, is... i’d say more stable, but at a lower point. maglor may interact with the world mostly through cold stares and mocking laughter, but at least his mind is firmly rooted in the present)
(on the other hand, at least maedhros lets himself be aware of what they are and where their road will lead)
which... this doesn’t mean maglor doesn’t try to be kind to the twins, or rein in his worst impulses around them
there’s just so little of him left but the weapon
he stalks through the halls like a portent of death and gets into hours-long screaming matches with maedhros and has definitely killed people in front of the twins
not even as, like, a deliberate attempt to scare them, but because when you solve most of your problems by stabbing them it’s pretty much a given that people who spend a lot of time around you are going to see you do it at least once
and sometimes, he curls up in an empty hallway, and weeps
... suffice it to say i don’t think elwing’s the more preoccupied, or the less mentally ill, parent here
just. in general, the fëanorians aren’t cackling boogeymen, but they’re not particularly nice either
no one has the energy left for that. not these isolated and weary soldiers at the end of a long losing war and the beginning of the end of the world. they don’t really bother to guard the kids against them escaping. where else are they going to go?
the sheer despair that must have been in the fëanorian camp after sirion, the knowledge that the cause cannot be fulfilled, that they are utterly forsaken, that they’re really just waiting to die -
it can’t have been a happy place to grow up in, under the shadow of loss and grief and deeds unrepentable, and the slow march of inevitable defeat
they would have had a better childhood if they stayed in sirion, raised by people who knew how to hope
but that isn’t the childhood they had. and despite everything i’ve said, i don’t think that childhood was an entirely awful one
yeah, see, this is where the other side of my self-inflicted fandom catch-22 comes in. just as much of the pro-kidnap dads stuff comes off as overly saccharine and simplified to me, i find much of the anti-kidnap dads stuff equally simplistic in the opposite direction
the idea that maglor and the fëanorians never meant anything to elros and elrond, that they had no effect on the people they became at all, that it was just a horrible thing that happened when they were children, easily thrown in the rear-view mirror...
that’s even more impossible to me than the idea that life with the fëanorians was 100% fluffy and nice
like, i’ve seen the take that elros and elrond hated the fëanorians from start to finish. they were perfect little sindarin princes, loyal to their people and the memory of doriath, spurning every scrap of kindness offered to them and knowing just what to say to twist the knife into the kinslayers’ wounds
... dude. they were six. hell, given their peredhelness, mentally they could easily have been younger
what six year old has a firm grasp of their ethnic identity? what six year old is fully aware of their place in history? what six year old would understand the politics that led to their situation?
don’t get me wrong, i can see hatred in there. but something else that doesn’t get acknowledged alongside it often enough is the fear
some of the stuff i’ve read feels like it gives the kids too much power in the situation. they’re perfectly happy to talk back to and belittle the people who burned down their hometown and killed everyone they ever knew, like miniature adults who don’t feel threatened at all
and, like, six. i can see them going for insults as a defensive measure, but it is defensive. it’s covering up fear, not coming from secure disdain
(and a lot of those insults sound, again, like things an adult who’s already familiar with the fëanorians would say, not a scared child who’s lost almost everything. why would a six year old raised by sindar and gondolindrim know what the noldolantë is, let alone what it means to maglor?)
(... i’m just ranting about this one fic that’s been ruffling my feathers for five years straight now, aren’t i)
i mean, i write elrond as the world’s angriest teenager, who snipes at maglor pretty much constantly, but the thing about angry teenage elrond is that he’s angry teenage elrond
he’s spent long enough with the fëanorians he has a pretty secure position within the camp, and he knows that maglor won’t hurt him from a decade and change of maglor not, in fact, hurting him
but as a small and terrified child abducted by the monsters his mother had nightmares about? he fluctuated wildly between ‘randomly guessing at things to say that wouldn’t get him killed’ ‘screaming at maglor to go away in words rarely more complicated than that’ 'desperately trying not to do or say anything in the hopes of not being noticed’ and ‘hiding’
(and i don’t think the twins were never in any danger from the fëanorians, either. quite besides the point that before they started orbiting maglor nobody was really sure what to do with them... well, they wouldn’t be the first children of thingol’s line the minions took revenge on)
(fortunately for them, maglor did, in fact, take them under his wing. by this point even their own followers are shit scared of the last two sons of fëanor, nobody’s going to mess with their stuff and risk getting mauled. tactically, it was a pretty good decision for a couple of toddlers)
more to the point, i feel like a child that young, in a situation that horrible, wouldn’t reject any kindness they were offered, any soothing touch in a universe of terror
in a world full of big scary monsters, the best way to survive is to get the biggest scariest monster possible to protect you. that’s how elros rationalises it when they’re, like, eight, mentally, but at the time they were just latching on to the only person around them who seemed to care about them
that’s how it started, on their end. two very young very scared children lost in a neverending nightmare clinging tightly to the lone outstretched pair of hands
as for maglor...
i’ve called mags evil before, but i see that as more of a... technical term? he is evil because he did the murder, he remains evil because he won’t stop doing the murder. hot take: murder bad
but that doesn’t make him, like, a moustache-twirling saturday morning cartoon villain. he is deeply unhappy with the position he’s in and the person he’s become, and he’s always trying not to take that final step over the edge
it’s not that i can’t see a maglor who is abusive or manipulative or who sees the twins more as objects than people. it’s just that that characterisation is one i am profoundly uninterested in. i do occasionally read fic with it, but it never enters my own headcanons
horrible people can do good things!! kinslayers can do good things!! the fallen are capable of humanity!! people can do both good and evil things at the same time, because people are complicated!! maglor is not psychologically incapable of actually taking pity on these kids!!!!
it’s... again, complexity. the fëanorians straddle the line between black and white, which is a lot less sharp in the legendarium than it’s sometimes characterised as. it’s what draws me to their characters so much, why i have so many stupid headcanons about them. pretending they fall firmly on either side of the line is my real fandom pet peeve
and, like, this moment? this sincere connection between a bloodstained warlord and two children who will grow up to be great and kind in equal measure? i may not entirely like the direction the fandom’s taken it recently, but that beat, that relationship, it still gets me
so no, i don’t think elrond and elros’ years with the fëanorians were an endless cavalcade of abuse and misery. i think there was love there, despite the darkness all around them
an old, tired monster, and the two tiny children it protects
maglor never hurts the twins, not ever, not once. his claws are sharp and his fangs are keen, if he so much as swatted them he’d rip them in half. instead he folds down the razor edges of his being, interacting with them ever so carefully. he has nightmares of suddenly tearing into their skin
seriously, the power differential between them is so great, maglor so much as raising his voice would break any trust they have in this horribly dangerous creature. fics where he does corporal punishment always get the side-eye from me
the mood of their relationship is... i find it hard to put into words. melancholy, maybe, like a sunny afternoon a few days before the end of the world. three people who’ve lost so much finding what respite they can in each other as the world slowly crumbles around them
there are times when it feels like the three of them exist in a world of their own, marked out by the edges of the firelight. maglor telling stories of the stars, elros giving relaxed irreverent commentary, elrond getting a few moments to just be, all their troubles kept at bay
they are the last two lights in a world sunk into darkness, the last two living beings he does not on some level hate. he will tear his own heart out before he sees them in pain
he teaches them to ride, he teaches them to read, he gives them everything he still has left. the twins should never have been in this situation, maglor probably isn’t entirely fit to take care of them, but it is what it is, and they take what love they can
(maglor depends on the twins emotionally a bit more than any adult should rely on any child. he’s still very much the caretaker in their relationship, but that relationship is the only one he has left that’s not stained by a century of rage and grief. he’s obsessed with them, maedhros tells him frequently. maglor’s standard response to this is to try to gouge maedhros’ eyes out)
(that particular darker side to their relationship, where maglor’s attachment to the twins turns into a desperate possessiveness - that’s not something i think i’ve ever seen in fic. which is a shame, it feels much closer to my own characterisation than the standard ways this relationship gets maleficised. darker, in a different way than usual. horribly compelling in its plausibility)
however you want to read it, i don’t think you can deny this is a relationship that defines elrond and elros’ childhood. they were raised in the woods by a pack of kinslayers, the text is quite clear on this
but i’ve seen a lot of talk about how elros and elrond are only sirion’s children. they are completely 100% sindarin, they love and forgive eärendil and elwing thoroughly and without question, they identify with doriath over - even gondolin, let alone tirion. the fëanorians - the people who raised them - had zero effect on the people they grew into and the selves they created
and that, more than anything else, i find utterly unbelievable
look, i get what this is a reaction to. a lot of the kidnap dads stuff paints the fëanorians as elrond and elros’ ‘real’ family, and i’ve already talked about what i think of the idea that maglor-and-possibly-also-maedhros were better parents than eärendil and elwing. i think it’s reductive and overly optimistic and just a little too neat
but to say instead that elrond and elros held no great love in their hearts for maglor, no lingering affinity with the fëanorians, no influence on their identity from the people they grew up around, none at all? that after it happened they just left it behind and resumed being the same people they were in sirion?
that strikes me as just as much an oversimplification. it sands down all the potential rough edges of their identity, all that inconvenient complexity that stops them from fitting into any well-defined box, and replaces it with a nice safe simple self-conception i find just as flat and boring as declaring them 100% fëanorian
we can quibble over who they call ‘father’ (i personally find that whole debate kinda petty) but denying that it was actually maglor who was the closest thing they knew to a parent for most of their childhoods, and that that would, in fact, affect the way they thought of themselves and their family, elides so many interesting possibilities out of existence
(i’m not even going to get into the most braindead take i have ever heard on the subject, namely that because their time with the fëanorians was such a small fraction of elrond’s total lifespan it was like being kidnapped for two weeks as a toddler and had no greater significance than that. do you not understand what childhood is????)
like, i tend to think of elrond as a child as being very loudly not-a-fëanorian. elros is more willing to go with the flow - hey, if the creepy kinslayer wants kids, elros is happy to play into that in order to not be murdered - but elrond is very firm that he’s not happy to be here and he doesn’t belong with them
(this is after they get over their initial terror, of course, when they’ve realised they won’t be fed to the orcs for the tiniest slight. even so, elrond only really gets shirty about it around people he’s comfortable with, whose reactions he can reasonably guess at. naturally, the first person he does it to is maglor)
elros calls maglor their father exactly once, when they’re... maybe early preteens? this is because elrond hears him do it and immediately loses his shit. they have a dad, elrond says, in tears, and a mum, and any day now their real parents are going to come to pick them up and take them home
... right?
it gets harder to believe as the years roll on, as their memories of sirion fade, as they find their own places within the host, as maglor watches over them as they grow. elrond still mentally sets himself apart from the fëanorians, but it’s more of an effort every year. life in the fëanorian camp is the only one he’s ever really known. he can barely remember his mother’s voice
then the war of wrath starts, and the fëanorian host drifts closer to the army of valinor, and the twins come into contact with non-fëanorians for the first time in forever, and it becomes clear just how obviously fëanorian elrond is. he always insisted he wasn’t like the kinslayers at all, but he dresses like them, talks like them, fights like them
the myth cycles the edain tell are almost completely unfamiliar to him, he barely remembers the shape of the songs of lost doriath. even these sarcastic commentary and subversive reinterpretations he made of maglor’s stories - those were still maglor’s stories! he’s been trying to guess at the person he was meant to be, but it’s growing nightmarishly blatant how little elrond ever knew about him
instead, the people he was born to are as alien to him as the orcs of morgoth. he is a fëanorian, through and through
... yeah, elrond (and/or elros) having an absolutely massive identity crisis upon being reintroduced to his quote-unquote ‘true kin’ is another angle i’d love to see in fic that i don’t think i’ve ever come across. all those potential grey areas around who they are and who they’re supposed to be sound utterly fascinating, and i think it’s the complexity i hate to see elided over the most
i really, really doubt they could effortlessly slot back into being eärendil and elwing’s children. not when they’ve been surrounded by, lived alongside, been raised by the people who were supposed to enemies for most of their lives
they just don’t fit into that box any more. they can’t
speaking of eärendil and elwing, while i do agree that they both (especially elwing) get a lot more flak than they deserve, i don’t agree that therefore elrond and elros were never the slightest bit mad at them and fully forgave them for everything with no reservations
because, well, they were left behind. elwing had no other choice, but they were still left behind; it led to the world being saved, but they were still left behind. all the best intentions in the universe don’t erase the weeks and months and years of waiting, of a hope that grew thinner and frailer until it finally quietly broke
that’s a real hurt, and a real grievance. even if the twins rationally understand that their parents were making the best out of their terrible situation, you can’t logic away emotions like that. it’s perfectly possible for them to know they have no reason to resent eärendil or elwing, and yet still harbour that bitterness and pain
(i did write a thing once where elrond loudly rejects eärendil as his father in favour of maglor, but something i didn’t add in that i probably should have is that elrond later regretted doing that)
(not like, several centuries later, when he’d grown old and wise. two hours later, when he’d calmed down. but he was still legitimately angry at eärendil, because the one thing angry teenage elrond was not lacking in was reasons to be mad at the adults around him, and before he could figure out if he had anything less furious to say the hosts of the valar left middle-earth behind)
(it’s another element to the tragedy of the whole thing. in that particular story, which is mostly aiming for maximum pain, the only thing elrond’s birth parents know about their son for thousands of years is that he hates them)
(and he doesn’t, not really. you can’t hate someone you’ve never known)
not that i think they couldn’t ever make up with their parents! fics where elrond and his birth parents work past all the things that lie between them and form a functional familial bond despite it all give me life. i just don’t like the idea that there’s nothing difficult for them to work past
i don’t like the idea that elrond and elros would naturally, effortlessly identify with the mother they last saw when they were six and the people they only vaguely remember. i can see them doing it as a political move, i can see them going for it as a deliberate personal choice, but i can’t seeing it being immediate and automatic and easy
no matter how great a pair of heroes eärendil and elwing are, that doesn’t change the fact that to elrond and elros, they’re at most a few scattered memories and a collection of far-off stories. and so long as the twins stay in middle-earth, they’re never going to draw any closer
compared to the dynamic, multifaceted, personal, and deep bonds they have with the fëanorians - who, and i know i keep saying this but i think it gets tossed aside way more casually than it should, are the people who actually raised them, their birth parents must feel like a distant idea
and that’s why i can never buy interpretations of elrond as 100% sindarin, a pure son of doriath, with no messy grey areas or awkward jagged edges to his identity. given everything we know about his life, it seems almost cartoonishly simplistic
honestly it seems like a narrative a bunch of old doriathrin nobles trying to manouevre elrond into being high king of the sindar or something would propagate. it's neat and nice and tidy, something that’d be much more convenient for everyone if elrond did feel that way
but i just don’t see how he can. this narrative is easy and simple in a way real people never are, it ignores all the forces pulling him apart. elrond being uncomplicatedly sindarin with the life he lives and the people he's close to - that doesn’t make any sense to me
which isn’t to say i think he’s 100% noldorin, from either a gondolindrim or a fëanorian perspective. (i find it a little more believable, given, again, who he grew up around and who he hangs out with, but it’s still a bit too reductive for my tastes.) it’s also not to say i couldn’t believe an elrond who made an active choice to emphasise his sindarin heritage
it’s not how i think of him, but it works. i don’t have a problem with other people interpreting the complexities of the twins’ identities differently
i just have a problem with people acting like it doesn’t exist
in general i think there’s a lot untapped potential that gets left behind when you declare the twins, separately or together, as All One Thing
they’re descended from half the noble houses of beleriand, and they have deep personal ties to most of the rest. they belong to all of the free peoples even the dwarves, somehow, probably and i feel like that was kind of the old man’s point? so many peoples meet in them, to say they wholly belong to any one species is probably an oversimplification
they sit at a crossroads of potential identities, and rather than narrowing down their worldviews to one single path, they take the hard road and choose all of them. that’s what you need to do, if you want to change the world
and, to bring this back to my ostensible topic, in my estimation at least this mélange of possible selves does include them as fëanorians! it’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly there, and the adults they grow into long after they’ve left the host still bear influence from their childhood
nothing super obvious, nothing that wouldn’t stand out if you didn’t know what to look for, but there’s something almost incandescent in how fiercely elros reaches out for his dreams
there’s something almost defiant in elrond’s drive to be as kind as summer
as for who they publically claim as their family... honestly, it depends. while it’s usually more tactically prudent for elros to connect himself to his various human ancestors, on occasion he does find a use for his free in with the elf mafia, and elrond, code switcher par excellence, is famously the son of whoever is most politically convenient at the moment, which is rarely, but not never, maglor
(in the privacy of their own minds, well, eärendil and elwing may have been the parents elros was supposed to have, but maglor was the parent he actually had, and elros doesn’t particularly care to mope over what might have been. elrond, for his part, figures that after all the shit maglor has put him through, the least that bastard owes him is a father)
but honestly? i think before any of their mountain of identities, before thinking of themselves as sindarin or gondolindel or hadorian or haladin or fëanorian or anything, elrond and elros identify as themselves
they are peredhil, they are númenóreans, they are whoever they make themselves to be. that’s how elrond finally resolved his identity, figured out who he was and found something past the pain and the rage
he wasn’t doriathrin, or gondolindrin, or falathrin, or fëanorian, or whatever else. he was elrond, no more and no less
and that person, elrond, could be whatever he chose to be
... elros came to a similar conclusion, with much less sturm und drang that he’s willing to admit. being able to go ‘hey, i can’t possibly be biased towards any one of your cultures, because i’m descended from all of you and i was raised by murderelves’ makes it a lot easier to unite people around your personal banner, turns out
the stories other people tried to force on them shattered into pieces, and the peredhel twins were free to shape themselves into anything they could dream of
and as the new world struggles alive, these lost children of an Age of death begin to bloom into their full glorious selves -
i just. i love the poetry of that. despite every single shadow that hangs over their past, despite all the clashing notes pulling them apart, they harmonise it all into a greater, kinder theme, determined to make their world a better place in whatever way they can
they fail, of course, but so do all things. the inevitable march of entropy doesn’t diminish the long millennia they (and their descendants) held onto the light
and their growing up in the fëanorian host definitely had a huge effect on the noble lords they became. you can see it in elros’ loud ambition to create a land of happiness and hope, elrond’s quiet resolve to heal all the hurts inflicted by this marred reality
it wasn’t a perfect time by any means, but neither was it a nightmare. it was what it was, a desperate existence at the edge of a knife where, nevertheless, they were loved
even after years upon decades upon centuries have passed, it’s hard for the wise king and the honourable sage to separate out and identify all the conflicting emotions swirling around their childhood. they never knew eärendil or elwing, true, but they also never really knew maglor
not as equals, not as adults, not as people who could truly understand him. he disappeared into the fog of history, leaving only childhood memories of razor-sharp, gentle hands
it’s messy and it’s complicated and getting any real closure would be like shoving their way through a thornbush with bare hands even if elrond could find the shithead, and yet at the core of it all, there is light. not the brightest of lights, maybe, but an enduring one
that contrast, above all, that note of warmth amidst the shadows, is what fascinates me so much about their relationship. three screwed up people in a screwed up world, finding a little peace with each other
and the fact that somehow, it does have a good ending - the children grow up magnificent and compassionate and just, they become exemplars of all their peoples, lodestars of the new world born out of the ashes of the old - that makes it seem to me like this relationship must have contained some fragment of happiness
but, fuck, all the darkness that surrounds that love, all the tangled-up emotions its existence necessitates, all the prefabricated self-identities it can never slot into - nothing about it is simple, nothing about it is easy, and i find that utterly enthralling. especially how, despite everything, that flickering light never goes out
well, i don’t think it does, anyway. my take on this relationship is both complicated enough no one else ever quite gets it right and well-defined enough every single ‘error’ in other people’s interpretations sticks out like a kinslayer in rivendell
it is an entirely self-inflicted problem, i will admit. other people are allowed to interpret those complexities differently from me, and it’s entirely my own fault i lack the :waves hands around nebulously: to write my own hypothetical fic on the subject at a pace faster than glacial
still, though. i do wish there was more fic out there that engaged with these complexities. a lot of the common fandom interpretations of this relationship just sweep it all away
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jungwonize · 2 years
Text
ENCOUNTER. — nishimura riki
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WHERE, IN WHAT FORM, SHALL WE MEET AGAIN?
SYNOPSIS. You wonder if it's really proper for you to adore Nishimura Riki at times. But, because you chose to love him, why are you even considering such things? He's a genuine sweetheart, somebody who was always there for you whenever you needed him—even when you didn't expect him. Certainly, you're thankful for his existence, but as the public keeps criticizing your months-long relationship, you're beginning to have second thoughts. Was it really meant to have been that you encountered each other? Or could it be possible that Riki deserves somebody else? PAIRING. idol!gender-neutral reader x non!idol riki. GENRE. encounter k-drama au and reincarnation au! a bit of angst, some fluff in the end, lovers to exes WARNINGS. some cursing, one (1) mention of getting stabbed, riki has abandonment issues, might include some errors even tho i rewrote this like 7 times idk im kinda sleepy song rec. afterglow, restless, only, softcore WORD COUNT. 1.5k NOTE. all this is completely fiction, it doesn't represent riki here in real life. this is my first time kind of writing a oneshot(????Help) so don't expect much ^_^ also, this is for ely's "enhypen's new world" fic collab! i chose to write for riki and the kdrama i chose was encounter ^^ check out the post here! ★ PERM TAGLIST [OPEN]. @maiwon @onereic @slayjungwon @jungwonizer % couldn't tag: @sh1mzu.
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"I want to be your boyfriend." Nishimura Riki expressed his feelings for you 6 months ago; it was the greatest day of your life. the two of you have finally become more comfortable with each other, no longer having to be uneasy.
It was very difficult for you as an idol to be in a relationship with Riki, but he didn't seem to mind. Riki promises you that he will be okay as long as you were with him. Everything seemed to be going smoothly through those weeks as they turned into 6 months, that was until an article went viral one day in just three hours. It was a story about your relationship with Riki, as usual. It was always like this. Just, what would the article include this time? Was it going to be a "Lee Yn's boyfriend, Nishimura Riki is actually not famous nor rich, and is actually just a nobody with good looks," or whatever cliché headline was in mind? You were on a date with Riki at the moment, to celebrate your six-month-long anniversary. But today, you're going to, well, at least try ending your relationship with Riki.
While you sat across the table waiting for your food, Riki began browsing through his phone. He came upon the article. Reading it, you could see how fast his enthusiastic grin faded. "What's up, Riki? Is everything alright? What's up with the expression change?" oh, shit.
While reading some stupid-ass article, he realized you saw his smile disappear. "Yn? Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just a lame article, that’s all.” he laughed it off, turned off the phone, and started fidgeting with his fingers.
"Can I see?"
He gazed up towards you out of the corner of his eye. Riki shook his head and wiggled his finger, signaling "no." Just as you were about to take your phone to read the article, Riki swiped it and put it in his pocket before you.
"I don't want you to read articles like that." he pauses, "it bothers me to see you deal with these harsh words," Riki adds, turning away. "There's no need to be concerned, Riki. I'm used to hearing such things, so such remarks will have no impact on me. It should be yourself that you are concerned about. I don't want you to go through what I went through, therefore I'm doing everything I can to protect you, just like what you did for me."
Riki isn't a dumbass. He knows that those harsh remarks still have an effect on you, no matter how "used to it" you are. He walked over to you and extended his hand after arising from his seat. "How about we go for a little stroll to clear our heads?" he gave a sheepish look. You couldn't say no to your beloved, of course. As you rise from your seat, you take Riki's hand in yours and began strolling gently to the surrounding park outside the restaurant where the two of you were dining.
You informed Riki of your thoughts about your relationship while you were strolling together.
"Hey, Riki? Can I um, be honest with you?" You hesitantly questioned. "Of course," he adds quietly, "What do you need to tell me, yn?" You inhale deeply. This is it.
"Do you think we should end things? Like, part ways and all. I just can't take these harsh comments the public has against you. I think it's better you live a peaceful and normal life."
Both of you froze in your movements as a gust of chilly air blew through, giving you a shudder.
"Part ways? Are you serious?" Riki questioned, his face blank. His eyes dimmed as if they had lost all energy.
You nod slowly. "It's just that it's exhausting. Not for me, but for you, particularly. I don't want you dealing with the nonsense I went through — it makes me feel terrible and hurts me a lot on the inside. So I've been thinking about this breakup since I think it's better for the bot-"
"No," Riki states firmly. "I'm not going to break up with you, Yn. How many times have we discussed this? I already guaranteed you that no matter what happens, I'll be by your side. So why, why are you doing this?"
but of course, he said no.
"I simply decided it would be better to let you go," You add quietly, "It seems dreadful to be in a relationship with me, especially watching you having to listen to all these unpleasant and painful critical statements." Your face began to heat up, and Riki observed that tears were beginning to form in your eyes.
He gripped your hands tighter and stared at you in the eyes.
"You're not "letting go" of me in any way over this kind of reason, so why are you abandoning me?"
Abandon. That was a term you detested. But, really, you? are you really giving up on Riki? You pondered.
"I'm not abandoning you, Riki-" 
"Then why? Why are you doing this to me? To yourself?" Riki interrupted, his voice slightly raised. "Do you value what the public wants instead of what I- wait, no. We want? What about what your heart desires, Yn? Why don't you listen to your heart just this once, instead of your mind?" He observes you, who was wiping their tears and avoiding eye contact.
"I'm very sorry for raising my voice. Please forgive me."
You gave a slow nod. "it's okay, Riki," you murmur. "But I don't think that we were meant to encounter each other."
I don't think that we were meant to encounter each other. Inside Riki's thoughts, he kept repeating those phrases. Hearing those words made him feel as if he had been stabbed in the heart. What hurt much more was the fact that you said it.
His grip on you became tighter as he clung to you. "Yn, I don't want to lose you, either," he began to cry. Riki's hands were shaking, and his voice was trembling as well. You simply had no idea how much you meant to him.
"Please don't leave, I swear I'll do anything. I want your presence, I want to hear your voice, I want to feel your warm embrace; I want you, Yn. I want you to remain with me for as long as I can remember."
You could tell Riki meant every word he stated. But then again, nothing is meant to last forever, and you and Riki are no exception. The first boy you fell in love with, the one you actually cherished and cared for.
Things don't always turn out the way we expect them to. That was the way it was.
You fixed your gaze on Riki. "Riki, maybe we're just not meant to work out right now. First loves don't last forever, I must say. You want the best for me, and I want the best for you. So, let's keep those tears for someone who is truly worth it. Someone who isn't me." Riki's hand, which was grasping your arm, is slowly released.
It was painful. It was hard to tell Riki that. But how does it hurt in the first place? When were you finally ready to let him go? Were you still in love with Riki?
You were driving back to your house the next thing you knew.
You left Nishimura Riki.
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THE YEAR 2040.
It had been a typical rainy afternoon in Seoul. It was chilly outside, and you were desperately looking for a place to stay warm. You didn't have to struggle for long since you found a nearby convenience store. You rush inside to avoid getting too cold.
When you got inside, you remembered you hadn't eaten yet. You got a craving for cup noodles while walking to one of the stalls. You were ready to get your favorite flavor until someone else got their hands on it as well. "Oh, are you supposed to get this one? My bad." You turn to face a 6-foot tall boy who was wearing a black hoodie and had an intimidating aura, but he had a soft smile.
You anxiously answer, "It's alright, honestly," your eyes darting across the room looking for a new type of cup noodles. "This is just what I was looking for!" you say as you take a new flavor. "Oh, really? That's rather spicy, I must say," the boy says, chuckling as he examines the taste. "It truly is," you remark, chuckling along with him. "I'm not a big fan of spicy food, but he seems like such a sweet guy," you thought to yourself.
"Oh, wait. I have to go now. Thanks, uh.." "Yn. Lee Yn." "Right. Thanks, yn!" "You're welcome..?"
"Riki. Nishimura Riki," Riki says, winking at you. You chuckle, strangely at ease in his company.
"Thank you, Riki. Let's meet sometime, okay?" you say with a grin.
"Bet. Oh, and... can I have your number?"
"where, in what form, shall we meet again?"
Sure, there are many things in this world to fear, and here we fear love itself. Love wasn't as wonderful as you'd imagined. Love can be pleasant, unpleasant, lovely, or cruel. But as love was not always pleasant, it was worthwhile to experience. And you experienced and encountered love—with Nishimura Riki.
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down-in-devildom · 3 years
Note
Idk if you’d be interested in running with this concept, but I’ve always kind of liked the idea of Lesser Demons (or at least other demons) trying to get to the brothers through MC. How would the brothers (whichever you wanted to do ig) react to seeing that MC is being used? Originally I thought it would be extra angsty if the MC had a crush on the other demon, but you can take the idea wherever you want to if you’re interested!
First off, I am very sorry for taking so long with this prompt. My brain went on vacation and it was hard to get in contact with it. These turned out super long because I wouldn't shut up so I'm splitting these 3 and 3. Next part can be found here: Part 2 Anyways, thank you for your patience and enjoy!
MC being Used by Lesser Demons (Lucifer, Mammon, and Satan)
CW: Violence, Torture, Manipulation, Murder...general demonic behavior
Lucifer
Lucifer was used to demons wanting something from him. He was one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom and he did not make mistakes in his opinion. With power and prestige going hand to hand in the social hierarchy, it was in almost everybody’s best interest to try to get in a higher demon’s favor
To say Lucifer was hard to get close to was a severe understatement. He had built so many walls around himself after the fall and only Lord Diavolo was brazen enough to crash through them, until MC came along, that is. They were just so foolheartedly friendly and open to anybody that approached them. They demanded his attention, rather he wanted to grant it or not.  
It was hard not to notice the Lesser Demons that swarmed the MC like flies all of a sudden when he started to walk MC down the hallways at RAD from time to time. The other demons looked absolutely pathetic with how much they scrambled trying to impress the MC and do little favors for them. They would collect notes for them or conveniently find the pen MC had lost in their shared Spellcasting Class. It was all harmless to him at first until Lucifer started to notice one Lesser Demon in particular kept popping up almost like clock-work.
Lucifer brushed it off as a fragile budding friendship until MC started to look at the other demon with bright smiles and their eyes would shift to the demon in fleeting glances. No reason to get bent up by MC having a crush but the Lesser Demon appeared to have started to notice and was getting a bit too cocksure about their advantage. They would soon be found hanging around MC more than Mammon.
Usually MC would wait outside the student council office for him to get out when his workload wasn’t too hectic but soon it became both MC and the Lesser Demon. After a few times of Lucifer’s alone time with the human being interrupted by the other demon trying to lay on some thinly veiled praises to his hard work, Lucifer was getting irritated. The Lesser Demon would walk between Lucifer and MC and would sometimes not even give MC enough space in the hallways to walk side by side with them, leaving them to lag behind. MC would always hang on the Lesser Demon’s every word and wild gestures but not once did the demon look in their direction or give them time to speak.
One day, when Lucifer walked out of the student council room, it was only the Lesser Demon waiting for him. He asked where MC was and the other demon had the gall to say that the MC suddenly had an errand to run and could not make it. The Lesser Demon then started to commend Lucifer on putting up with such a weak human and how much self-control he had not to just consume them with how blindly trusting they were. Rather or not MC genuinely had errands to run that day or they were sent away to get something this demon wanted in an attempt to get Lucifer alone, the Avatar of Pride was not going to let this opportunity pass to get rid of some of the more annoying pest that have clung to him recently.
“You are correct. It is quite hard to hold back. You may understand more than anybody how irritating it is when you are being bombarded by demons that do not know their place trying to take advantage of Lord Diavolo’s exchange student. Or rather, I’m I speaking more from a personal experience?”
Lucifer takes a sickly amount of pleasure from watching the color drain from the Lesser Demon’s face as they try to stammer out excuses about having to find the MC to help them with their errands. The Lesser Demon does not get very far at all before being strangled by Lucifer in his full demon form and teleported to the dungeons where their screams echoed off the walls but nobody outside could hear.
The next day, Lucifer informed the MC about their little demon friend having to go to the countryside to take care of some family business and had to drop out of RAD. Rather or not MC knows enough about the Lesser Demon to know that would be a lie, Lucifer did not care. MC can heal from a little broken heart but the Lesser Demon will have a hard time healing from being torn limb from limb. It is so much easier to concentrate with one less fly buzzing around and it would seem like the other Lesser Demons picked up on the warning without him having to hang the corpse up from the rafters.
Mammon
Mammon was used to people and demons alike wanting things from him. He was The Great Mammon and despite his attitude, he was really strong. There is a reason why so many witches want to do things for him or let him “borrow” something from them. They want to be repaid tenfold but too bad because Mammon owes nobody nothing!
Now, one thing that Mammon will have to begrudgingly admit is that he likes hanging out with MC almost as much as he likes getting expensive items and Grimm. So it comes to no surprise when a Lesser Demon first tried to spend time with the MC when they were already going to spend the whole day with him, although he didn’t tell them that, he was throwing a mini tantrum. The dumb demon had approached you both while at the cafeteria and asked to sit with you all. MC was way too nice sometimes and readily agreed and so now Mammon had to share.
Mammon’s tune quickly changed when the Lesser Demon nonchalantly gave both him and the MC some gold earrings that they claimed they bought on accident and couldn’t return. Ah, well, who was Mammon but a generous demon for taking these off their hands. And the gifts didn’t stop. Each day, Mammon was slowly losing his precious alone time with the MC but he was gaining so many luxury gifts and trinkets that he didn’t notice anything amiss right away.
The Lesser Demon was always around whenever Mammon and the MC were together and they all started to get closer. Soon enough, when MC and Mammon were hanging out in his room one day after pretending to study and just laughing at videos on DevilTube, MC said they may actually like the Lesser Demon. Like, like like the demon?!
The two actually agreed to hang out that coming weekend and MC was super excited. This was the first demon outside of the student council that they have really interacted with and they were a bit nervous to see how things panned out. MC asked Mammon to kindly not try to tag along so that maybe they can move the relationship forward into something a little more than just friends.
Mammon was trying to act like he didn’t really care that the MC had a date but then he started to fidget around and couldn’t focus on the funny videos. Why would they decide spending time with the Lesser Demon was better than spending time with him? Sure, they gave some really awesome stuff away but he is pretty sure he can get more Grimm in a night at the casino than the Lesser Demon could earn in a year!....Maybe it wasn’t about the money though.
The day of the date, Mammon followed MC, ya know, to make sure that they were safe. Mammon peaked at the Lesser Demon and MC from his spot in the bushes at the public park and watched. MC walked up to the waiting demon and looked to be pretty excited judging from the large smile on their face. The Lesser Demon doesn’t really acknowledge them at first and keeps looking around searching for something. When the MC appear to speak again, the Lesser Demon’s face seems to contort out of its friendly façade and into one of irritation before they push a wrapped gift into the MC’s chest rather hard and walk away.
Mammon was rightly mad about the Lesser Demon just leaving the MC and decides to swoop in and save the day. He casually walks by the meeting place and “happens” to run into the MC. MC appears like they aren’t that surprised to see him but hands him the wrapped gift that Lesser Demon gave them with slightly watery eyes and says it was actually a gift for him. Mammon is too mad and busy sorting out his feelings about the MC possibly being ditched in hopes that he would show up, that he had to quickly remove himself with the excuse that he was going to run to catch up with the Lesser Demon and thank them for the present.
Mammon was unnaturally quick with how fast he ran after the other demon. He was sure the MC was out of sight before grabbing the demon and forcefully shoving the small, palm sized wrapped box into the Lesser Demon’s mouth, as far down the throat as he could get it while the other demon struggled against the assault and for air. When Mammon was satisfied about not even being able to see the present from the entrance of the demon’s mouth and the throat was expanded unnaturally, he rushed back to the MC’s side and offered to get them some ice cream, his treat...this time. If the MC wonders why the Lesser Demon suddenly stopped showing up at school, Mammon just said their luck ran out at the casino or something and they were too embarrassed to come back to RAD.
Satan
Satan is not very approachable to the average demon. He was polite, smart, snarky, and an unabashed animal lover, but not approachable. Maybe it had to do with him being the Avatar of Wrath or it can be because he would sometimes treat the demons around him more like lab rats than individuals. He was a gentleman though and it was fairly easy to build up some sort of rapport with him if a demon had a great thirst for knowledge and knew how to stay out of the way when his patience thinned. 
MC was one of those rare instances where he did not seem to expect for them to understand the finer workings of a particular particle spell to get his respect and it would seem other demons have taken notice. Satan enjoyed the quiet moments where he and the MC would spend hours reading their respective books in the royal library or when they would visit one of the local cat cafes and have laps full of lazy little kittens. The tranquility did not last forever it would seem because a few demons suddenly appear to think that they have what it takes to approach him.
Things were innocent enough. MC had texted Stan ahead of time that some Lesser Demon in their Potions class was really struggling and had begged to study with them to ace the next exam. It would come to no surprise that MC’s grades improved thanks to Satan’s meticulous note taking so the MC thought that he could help the Lesser Demon as well. Plus, the MC seemed a bit desperate to make some friends outside of the circle they found themselves forced into. Satan begrudgingly agreed. It was only an hour or two and he can still get some time in with MC away from his brothers afterwards.
The. Demon. Will. Not. Leave. Satan is practically grinding his teeth with how close the Lesser Demon decided to sit to him at the study table, spouting nonsense about having poor vision. Demons don’t even need eye corrective measures! MC bought the flimsy excuse though and was trying their best to quiz the Lesser Demon on material they went over in class. The other demon was doing suspiciously well answering the questions for a demon worried about their grades. When it was the MC’s turn to answer the questions on the cue cards, the Lesser Demon was being unnecessarily harsh. They wouldn’t give the MC enough time to reply before blurting out the answer or would snidely elaborate on certain topics well past the scope of the exam needed when the MC was able to speak in time.
Satan was trying to not cause a scene in the library but he could feel his resolve cracking. What made matters worse were the little glances the Lesser Demon would give him out of the corners of their eyes whenever they found themselves able to spew out more information about subjects. The more the Lesser Demon talked, the more MC seemed to shrink in on themselves and the Lesser Demon appeared to be getting some sort of pleasure out of it. Could this dimwit of a demon not feel the temperature of the room start to plummet?
Satan had to excuse himself from the library to catch his breath and walked down the halls for a bit to calm his nerves. He was on high alert so he wasn’t all that surprised when he heard footsteps try to quickly catch up with him before someone gently grabbed his elbow. He didn’t lash out because he recognized the sound of the MC approaching well before they caught up to him. He turned around to face them just to see the MC looking off to the side looking a bit embarrassed. They quietly explain that they were trying to impress the Lesser Demon with their knowledge of Potions but it did not appear to be going all that well.
Satan gave off a bit of an irritated snort but it wasn’t directed at the MC. Of course he could tell that the MC was trying to show off but the Lesser Demon seemed set on trying to make an idiot out of them. MC is way too kind and trusting to know when some demon was blatantly being malicious and trying to use them to make themselves look good. So Satan decided against fighting his sin and was going to release some steam. He told the MC he was going to get their stuff from the library really quick and they can head to the cat café to help unwind after a productive study session. “Wait just a moment, please, MC”.
When Satan stormed back into the library, his demon form was on full display. Not that it would serve as much of a warning to the Lesser Demon when Satan immediately captures them and uses his claws to gouge their eyes. While the other demon was wailing and crying about their eyes, he got fed up and threw them out one of the giant stained glass windows. The other demon should’ve known better than to cause such a ruckus in the library. When Satan met the MC in the hallway with both their stuff and without the Lesser Demon, he said that the other demon decided to drop out of RAD suddenly because they could not keep up with the studies. Suspicious? Yes. Does he care? Not particularly...
-----
Did I need to describe the violence? No. But these guys are demons so I feel like making them not so friendly sometimes. Please keep an eye out for part 2-Leo
Part 2 found here
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matchamenace · 1 year
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I posted 880 times in 2022
That's 880 more posts than 2021!
38 posts created (4%)
842 posts reblogged (96%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@bcyoureallthatmakessense
@dxncingwithastrxnger
@electricwalkman
@theamiableanachronism
@1980s-jean-ralphio
I tagged 648 of my posts in 2022
Only 26% of my posts had no tags
#fave - 71 posts
#fanart - 34 posts
#lovely mutuals - 31 posts
#matchamenace - 29 posts
#halloween - 26 posts
#matcha blogs! - 22 posts
#shane madej - 19 posts
#fall - 18 posts
#spooky season - 18 posts
#matcha asks! - 18 posts
Longest Tag: 138 characters
#everytime i think about him i get the weirdest mixture of joy and sadness and i just wanna curl up in a ball and cry and/or possibly vomit
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Who is your stranger things tumblr bestie :)
Oh man I don't have just one bestie, but the peeps I'm closest to are probably:
@dxncingwithastrxnger
@bcyoureallthatmakessense
@claire-de-lune
@purpleangelsele
Of course there's plenty of other blogs I adore that I just haven't interacted with as much, but perhaps one day that'll change 😌
7 notes - Posted November 26, 2022
#4
Got covid booster #2 this morning. Already starting to feel cruddy. 😭
8 notes - Posted November 14, 2022
#3
MY DARK DASH IS BACK
OH THANK GOD- MINE TOO 😭 I don't know how I ever tolerated light mode in the past ahaksks
8 notes - Posted November 16, 2022
#2
Fuck, Marry, Kill
Hopper
Murray
Steve
🥰😌
OH FUCK WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME CLAIRE??? 🤣🤣🤣🤣
AHSHSJDJDJDK OKAY!! Kill Murray for sure (he's one of my least favorites, sorry not sorry 🙈) Fuck Hopper 😜, Marry Steve 😘
Ok this actually wasn't hard at all lmao. Just very telling... 👀
11 notes - Posted October 25, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Who are some of your favorite Mileven blogs and why? Let’s spread some positivity and smiles on this fine Friday🌻🐛🌼 then tag 3 other blogs to keep the smiles going.
Oh goodness!! Let's see here agsjsksksk
@dxncingwithastrxnger ABSOLUTE KING 👑🔥🔥🔥 Nothing but good vibes and the fluffiest fics and headcanons you'll ever read!! 🙌 They put SO much thought and care into their posts and are just such a pleasure to interact with 😋💕 Honestly my go-to if I'm looking for lighthearted, feel-good content. (ILY ALEX!!!!!!!! 👋)
@purpleangelsele ACTUAL CINNAMON ROLL ✨ (Sweet with a hint of spice 😎👉👉) Probably one of the friendliest people I've met online lol! Doesn't matter what I post, I can always count on Sel to give me some sort of engagement and I fkin love it!! 🤣 As for their content it's mostly fun and cute headcanons, but they definitely don't shy away from the occasional hot take or petty post 😌 Tons of personality. Great sense of humor. LOVE THEM!!! 💜💜💜
@mikes-pineapple-pizza Incredibly articulate and astute observations!! 🙌✨ Has a knack for breaking down a variety of ST topics (including, but not limited to Mileven) in a way that's intelligent, but also very chill and unpretentious. Idk. Their content just really speaks to me and I think they're super cool. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Fr tho, this person could make a podcast just analyzing anything in the show and I would EAT IT UP!!!! 🔥🔥🔥
@claire-de-lune Ah man the duality of Claire.... 🤣🤣🤣 Deliciously petty, but simultaneously has some of the sweetest and unique headcanons to offer! 🥰 A VERY passionate Mileven defender who won't take shit from nobody, but an absolute delight to have on your side 😜💕
@lenorahills @fricchead @rllybritrlly @pumpkingface BITCHIN' ARTISTS!!! Each have such cute and unique illustration styles, and it's ridiculous how excited I get everytime they post new content asksksk 🙈💕 As an artist myself, I could not recommend them more 🙌
Anyway I think I'm gonna end descriptions here, but here's some other Mileven blogs I adore:
@truessences @teafiend @flamingfalcon3 @bcyoureallthatmakessense @pjo-fan17 @elsmike @crisperia @reganx2 @mikewheely
It definitely doesn't end there, but I'm feeling lazy today, so I sincerely apologize to anyone I might've excluded! I still love and appreciate you all!!! 😘
25 notes - Posted October 15, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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bruhlsbees · 3 years
Text
second chance ; 1/5 || writer!daniel x fem!artist!reader
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(gif credit to @/magsam)
summary: you continue to dwell on your past as you prepare to open your art gallery
warnings: daniel's boss is a little creepy - like flirty but in power creepy, idk how to tag that, nothing bad happens she just obvi wants in his pants (but don't we all), 18+ although no smut
word count: 6,637
pairing: writer!daniel x fem!artist!reader
a/n: here's my soft fic!! please enjoy!! :) also i should note that writer!daniel is based around sebastian from ich und kaminski - i just changed the name to daniel, but really only loosely based so that's why i'm not considering this to be a sebastian fic!
He woke to the lull sound of music being played in the shop below his flat. With a groan, he pulled his head from under the pillow, squinting at the sun that peeked through his curtains before turning towards the clock on his nightstand.
12:17 PM
Another groan left him as his face fell back into the pillows. He had to be at work by one and he wasn’t even out of bed - and he should be on the road leaving in thirteen minutes! This, however, was not uncommon for Daniel - he was often late, running behind from sleeping off his hangover or just simply not caring enough to pick up his feet and move quicker.
He was half tempted to call off, tell his boss that he had a relative that passed or that he was ill.
“I thought your great-aunt just recently passed away?” Daniel’s boss questioned over the phone, her tone more annoyed than confused. He could hear the restaurant clatter through the phone, indicating that it was a rather busy day.
“Yes, that was on my mother’s side, this one is on my father’s,” He picked up a pair of socks off the ground to see if they were clean or at least passed the smell check. “Tragic, I’m not sure what I’m going to do without them.”
He sniffed the socks and threw them away from his face in the same motion, holding back the cough as he shook the smell out of his nose. Daniel knew he had been putting off laundry for too long, the clear evidence being the pair of socks he mistakenly picked up.
Moving to the bathroom to take a shower and get around for the day. Daniel kept his cellphone pressed to his ear, held by the crook of his shoulder while he waited to hear what his boss would say to him.
“Fine,” She finally responded after a moment. Her tone was short, biting like a sting, “But I expect you back on your next shift. We can’t afford to keep losing waiters.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Opening up the medicine cabinet he grabbed his deodorant stick, swiping it a few times under each armpit before feeling satisfied enough to move on, “I’ll be there.”
When he heard the click he swiftly let his phone drop from his shoulder, catching it with his hand before setting it on the top of the toilet next to his sink, continuing to get ready for the day. Even though he wasn’t going into work today, he could still at least get ready instead of basking away in his own stench from the previous night.
Finally pushing himself out of bed after laying for another few minutes, Daniel rummaged through the clothes on the floor, finding the cleanest uniform out of the dirty clothes before tossing them on his bed, moving to the bathroom to get ready. When he got to the bathroom, he nearly cringed at the sight of him.
It was quite obvious that he had a long night, the dark circles around his eyes screamed that he didn’t sleep well and his hair was matted to his head. He couldn’t remember who he had over, or what her name even started with. Was it an s? Sienna? Sierra? Sally? Who fucking cares.
He did a half-assed job brushing his teeth, more so focused on just getting the taste of whiskey out of his mouth so that nobody assumed he was drunk on the job. He already got let go from another job for that.
After the taste was most of the way out, Daniel quickly rinsed his face off and pulled his hair back into a low bun. He didn’t look bad - but it was clear that he had a rough night.
Surprisingly he was out of the door sooner than he imagined. Ascending down the stairs, he made sure to have his steps extra heavy to piss the store owners under him off. A smirk was present on Daniel’s face when he jumped one by one down the final few steps, hearing the store owner yell for him to ‘bugger off’ from inside.
“Kiss my ass.” Daniel mumbled, pushing the door open before making his way onto the sidewalk, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighter, sparking the stick as he made his way down the road to work.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
Everything felt so off, yet so right. Something was missing, but you couldn’t pin what it was just yet. The gallery exceeded your expectations - Vee exceeded your expectations, she always seemed to go above and beyond when it came to your work.
“And how does she like it? Do we get her seal of approval?” The museum’s art curator questioned, standing off to the side so that you and Vee could take it all in.
He was a short man, the rectangle frames glasses that were a bright orange that matched with his orange suit. You wondered if perhaps the glasses were real, or were they fake and more of a fashion statement? Did he have a matching pair of glasses for each outfit?
You didn’t realize how out of it you were until you felt Vee nudge you, answering for the curator.
“She loves it, do forgive her, she’s just taken back is all.” Vee explained, smiling towards the curator as he nodded, relief washing over him as he continued to showcase the room in the museum that was dedicated to your work.
You let out a sigh and trailed behind Vee. You felt bad for not being so animated, but you couldn’t help it - you just weren’t in the best mental spot right now. It was quite obvious too, at least to everyone around you. When the three of you reached the back of the gallery, the curator turned and pulled his lips into a tight smile.
“Well, if there is anything else we can do before your opening, please, let us know,” He turned to Vee and bowed her way in goodbye, “You have my number, just call if there is anything.” He turned on his heels and made his way out of the room, his footsteps echoing until he left and then...nothing.
You let out a soft exhale and sat down on the bench that was placed in front of the back wall, staring up at a few of your paintings. Your shoulders were slacked, a frown on your face as you toyed with your bracelet that was on your left wrist, twirling the string around your fingers. Moving around the bench, Vee took a seat beside you, letting her purse fall to the ground at her feet, looking up at your pieces.
“If this isn’t something you want to do anymore, I can let him know,” She began, your head shooting up, looking at her with wide eyes, “He won’t be pleased, but I suppose it’d be better to hear from me than you.” She stated, eyes flickering from one painting to the next.
You shook your head, shocked that Vee would even suggest canceling the opening. What made her think that? Did she think you didn’t want this anymore? No, of course you wanted this, this was something you’ve dreamt about since you were a little girl.
“What are you saying, Vee? Of course I want this still, you’ve worked so hard and did such a wonderful job with this, I wouldn’t want to have all your hard work go to waste.” You explained, looking towards her now. She smiled, staring at the painting off to her right before turning her head the other way towards you.
“My dear, this isn’t about me. This is about you. My job is to get you where you need to be and make your dreams come true. I won’t be upset if you change your mind. We can wait to open your gallery, wait until next year or this winter perhaps. Whatever you wan-”
“I want this. I just-” You let out a sigh and dropped your head again, looking at your feet for a moment before back up at the wall, tears in your eyes, “I just thought it would be different, I suppose.”
“What do you mean?” Vee questioned, her left hand resting on your back, her right on your hands, squeezing them. You didn’t know how to put it into words, and that was the issue. You didn’t know why you felt the way you did, or where it came from. The room wasn’t empty, yet at the same time, something was missing.
“I just, something is missing...and I can’t figure out what it is,” You began, standing up from your spot on the bench and circling it, looking now from the back towards the front of the gallery. “When I come into this room, I want to love it, I do love it, but something just isn’t right about all of it. It feels incomplete, but what is missing?”
Nodding slowly, Vee let out a sigh and stood up, picking her purse from the floor and swinging it over her before walking over to you, standing beside you as she joined you in staring at the work you’ve created in the room.
“You want to know what I see in this room? A young, talented woman who has spent the last fifteen years making something of herself,” She began, her voice quiet, like a grandmother’s gentle tone. “A woman who went from nothing to having a large home, a gallery space, yet at the same time, a woman who doesn’t feel complete because she is still living in past regret.”
You glanced away from her at the last part of her speech. It wasn’t that you were hiding your tears from her, but she was right, and you were a fool to still be living in the past.
When she continued, your head faltered back to its original position, looking straight ahead. This was supposed to be your day, yours, and yet even after everything, Daniel was still the one on your mind...the one who still controlled your emotions and work.
“I don’t mean to be brash, dear, but if he wanted to make an appearance in your life, he would have done it by now. It’s time you put that past away and look towards the future,” Wrapping her arms around you, Vee pulled you close, extending her left hand out to motion around the room, “Think of all that you’ve done without him. Is he truly the one you wish to have by your side when you open your gallery? The one who didn’t want this for you in the first place?”
By this point you were crying, silently weeping in Vee’s arm as she gave you a hard reality check. It was true, all of it, why were you still hung up on him? For all you knew he had moved on himself - living with a pretty wife and a couple kids with a backyard and porch. You made it this far without him, and damn did you do a good job, so why were you still holding out on the chance that he would show up? Were you still that much in love with him?
“Sweet girl, it’s time to move on from him. He’s caused you enough pain. Look at how much you’ve done, truly, look around,” You opened your eyes and looked around the room, smiling weakly at all your work, “Never have I worked with someone as talented as you. The past five years have been a pleasure and I just want you to be proud of what you’ve done.”
“I am,” You whispered, looking at Vee now. You knew there were tears running down your cheeks as you could feel them, dripping from your jaw and onto your shirt. You sniffled and wiped your cheeks dry before letting out a sigh, “You’re right. I need to stop letting him ruin my day. This gallery, it’s beautiful! I should go and tell the curator he’s done an excellent job. I’m sure he thinks by now I’m either stuck up or a bitch...probably both!”
You laughed with Vee, leaning in as she kissed your temple before patting your back once, “I don’t think you should worry too much about that. I’m sure he’s probably dealt with worse drama queens,” She began to lead you out of the gallery, her arm still wrapped around you, “Come on, how about we go get a pastry and head home, yes?”
Nodding, you kept your own arm wrapped around her, following her out of the museum and to your lift that you had taken that day. The city was beautiful, but you were ready to retire back to the countryside where your home was.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
He had made it into work exactly four minutes late, and his boss was at the door waiting for him with a scowl on her face. She was a mean bitch, Teresa, his boss - thin and blonde, always a stern look on her face like she ate something bad. She was his height, which only made arguments worse. Teresa liked to find your weakness and make that her target.
Daniel was rather confident, not taking much heat and just letting it roll off his back, but he was shorter, average, but still short. Standing at only five feet nine inches, Daniel knew quite a few women who were his height, if not taller. So when it came to him and Teresa yelling in the kitchen at the restaurant, she always seemed to find a way to stand herself up to seem taller than he was, making her both look and feel like the alpha.
Tucking the fallen pieces behind his ears, Daniel sighed and went to grab an apron that was hanging up beside the time clock where Teresa was standing.
“Sorry, traffic was busy.” He stated, going to punch in his work number. Before he could, Teresa stepped to the side in front of it, hands on her hips as she blocked him from clocking in. He took a quick step back before running into her, eyes furrowed together. “Um, is there something-”
“You’re late,” She pointed out, as if he didn’t already know. She moved her hands from her hips and to cross over her chest, her breasts pressing together causing Daniel to swallow, eyes looking ahead of him at the time clock. “If we weren’t so desperate for staff, you’d be out of here.”
It took everything for Daniel to not roll his eyes at the comment, shuffling in his spot as he became fidgety, wanting to get away from Teresa and go to work. This wasn’t the first time she had cornered him before - taunting him with her breasts and charm, making him sweat through his uniform.
No, of course he didn’t think she was hot - well, maybe, but she was a bitch. A stone cold bitch who wouldn’t be getting anywhere near his pants. That promise he would keep. He’s had his fair share of questionable hookups, but Teresa the Tyrant would not be one of them, no matter how hard she tried.
“Are you sure it's we and not you?” He toyed, his eyes flicking over towards her. He held back his smirk when her arms fell, mouth gaping before she glared and moved out of the way.
“Get to work,” She ordered, moving out of the way and into the office that was beside the timeclock, in the back of the kitchen. “And I’m docking this!”
“And I’m docking this!” Daniel mimicked, making a face as he mumbled to himself, punching into work and grabbing an apron, wrapping it around him before heading through the kitchen and to the main seating area to start waiting on his section.
The two other waitresses, Kali and Lana, were already working, moving tables around for what looked to be a big party coming in. The restaurant Daniel worked at was rather nice, more formal than most around town, so most people came to the restaurant if they were looking for something special. The host, Will, at the front sighing in relief at the sight of Daniel walking in.
“Finally! Thank God you’re here!” Will began, handing Daniel his things frantically, “We got a huge party coming in. Teresa just sprung it on us when we opened,” Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed, stuffing the pens and orderbook in his pocket, trying to keep up with Will, “Whole party booked the restaurant. It’s just us four tonight. Party is almost reaching forty-”
“Forty? Forty people? And four waiters? What the hell was Teresa thinking?” Part of Daniel wished he had called in, but the four of them were a good team, he couldn’t bail on them. Tucking his hair behind his ears as it fell in his face, he sighed and shook his head, “What do I need to do before they get here?”
Will seemed to relax a bit when Daniel offered to help, wrapping the last bit of silverware before handing the basket to Daniel, “Set the tables. They’re sitting at four tables, ten each. We each get a table and their food is being cooked now so hopefully everything goes smoothly.”
Nodding, Daniel took the silverware, shifting the basket to sit on his hip before moving to the tables, “Yeah, hopefully.”
It didn’t take long to get ready, most of the work already being done before Daniel had clocked in. After the tables were set up and the four of them did some last minute cleaning, the guests soon began to come in, sitting in their assigned spots - the restaurant growing loud quickly.
As the oldest waiter, and the one with the most experience, Daniel didn’t stress too much about his table, focusing on Kali and Will who were the youngest of them, only in high school. He noticed Kali was especially having a hard time balancing all the food on the tray, wobbling as she went to sit it down to begin passing them out. He knew this night couldn’t get any worse, but Hell, Teresa really did throw them a curveball.
When Daniel was refilling glasses, he couldn’t help but grow curious, what was this all about? What were so many fancy rich pricks doing here?
“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the occasion?” Daniel asked, doing his best to sound charming rather than nosey. He smiled down at the group at the end of the table he was at, watching as they paused from their conversations to turn to Daniel.
The one man, who turned his nose at the sight of Daniel, scoffed and adjusted his posture in his seat, “Oh you don’t know? Well, if you must know, we’re a group of art collectors,” He pulled out the flyer from his suit pocket and handed it to Daniel, who took it and began unfolding it as he continued, “There’s a new art gallery opening. We plan on going and potentially buying some of her pieces.”
Nodding, Daniel continued to listen until they began to ramble about rich people things that rich people talked about. Reading over the flyer, he recognized the art museum. It was a rather posh one, one that had famous art pieces that people would travel from all over to see. This artist must have been a rather big deal to be having a pop-up in the art museum.
It was the style of art he recognized first. He had seen it before. Where he couldn’t put his finger on, but he knew he had seen the art before. Reading over the name didn’t help either - Cassie Kane?
“Cassie Kane? Like Citizen Kane? What is that, some sort of pen name?” He couldn’t help but laugh at the name, finding it to be ridiculous. He was a writer - well, aspiring writer. He always found pen names to be rather odd, not something he was ever a fan of.
The table laughed at his joke, but Daniel knew that it wasn’t what he said that was funny, but him in general. Rich people always liked to laugh at the waiters, finding whatever came out of their mouth to be funny - as if they were their dancing monkeys.
“You’ve seriously never heard of her? Come now, she’s one of the most aspiring artists right now! It’s not everyday you see someone so young and talented open up a gallery of their own work, let alone in such a famous museum!” This time it was the woman beside the man who spoke, baffled at Daniel’s lack of knowledge in the so-called ‘Cassie Kane’.
“Forgive me, I’m a writer, not much of an artist.” He explained, pulling his lips into a thin smile. His patience was growing weak with these upper-class snobs and his feet were sore. All he wanted to do was go home, smoke a few cigarettes, have some drinks, and pass out on his couch.
“Well, nobody knows much about her. Like I said, she’s young. From what I hear though, she lives in a manor that was passed down to her by a great-aunt or something. I believe she took care of her before her death and her aunt gave her the house,” Another woman said, sipping her champagne before continuing, “A single woman, all alone in that big house. No wonder she has all those paintings, poor girl probably has nothing better to do.”
They erupted into laughs at the woman’s comment, the woman’s own laugh sounding far too similar to a donkey for Daniel to keep his composure, sipping their drinks and continuing on with other conversations.
Before Daniel could finally escape though, giving up all interests on even trying to talk with his table - the original man quickly reached out to Daniel as he turned to leave, pulling at his apron to gain his attention.
“You asked her name, yes well, she’s actually from here. That’s why we’ve stopped by. We wanted to get a look around her hometown before travelling to see what inspired her pieces. Here! I have a photo actually.” The man dug his photo out of his pocket and unlocked it, searching on Google for the artist before pulling up a picture, handing his phone to Daniel who took it, holding it in front of him.
“She’s the one on the far left,” He explained, “In the red.”
Scanning through the line of people, Daniel nearly dropped the man’s phone when he finally reached the artist. He knew he had seen the art from somewhere, and who left town to become an artist? He should have known - it was the only person who he could have thought of. You, you were Cassie Kane.
“You must have known her? She’s about your age! Did you go to school with her?”
The questions became far too much for Daniel, who all but cowered back, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them, “Um, no, sorry, I don’t,” He lied, clearing his throat, “Must have been in different classes than me.”
“Well she’s opening up the invitations to everyone in town. Free admission if you show that you live in town. Perhaps you should go - check the gallery out for yourself and broaden your horizons a bit. Whole town is rather dense from what I’ve seen. No wonder she’s letting you all come for free.”
And after three painfully long hours of listening to the rich snobs joke and whine and bicker, Daniel finally had enough. With a smile, Daniel let out a mocking laugh, pathetically sounding like a snob before his face fell, his table - and the others as well, falling to silence.
“If I wanted to broaden my horizons, I’d go to the zoo, at least there I can enjoy what I’m looking like,” He turned to the woman who had originally spoken up after the man - who’s laugh sounded far too much like a donkey, smiling wickedly down at her, “That reminds me, I heard they’re opening a petting zoo in town - maybe you can go and say hi to the rest of your cousins for me. What exactly do donkeys eat by the way? I’m curious to know.”
He let out a whine line a donkey, mocking the woman before leaning over the table and reaching for the champagne bottle in the ice bucket, pulling the cork off with his teeth and spitting it back out down the table. At this point the whole room was silent, watching as Daniel finally cracked.
When he noticed everyone was staring, after drinking a healthy amount from the bottle, he let out a sigh and let the champagne run down his beard and onto the front of his shirt, hiccuping.
And without another word he made his way lazily from the dining room and through the kitchen, sipping on the bottle until he made it to the back of the kitchen, pushing open Teresa’s door and tossing his apron at things at her, watching as they bounced off her and onto the floor.
“What the he-”
“I quit,” Daniel said, cutting her off. When she looked at him confused, and of course pissed like always, he could only smile and brave it, “I quit. Don’t bother docking me because I’m not coming back. Better yet, don’t even bother paying me today,” He looked down at the champagne bottle and waved it at her, “Consider this my tip.”
And before she could get another word out, he turned and headed out of her office, smirking to himself as he listened to her scream for him to get back as he left the restaurant, heading through the filled parking lot, and back to his apartment.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
After dinner that night, alone in your study like most, you attempted to work on your laptop, going through emails in hopes of maybe finding something that was worth your wild. To your avail, however, nothing jumped out at you.
It was all the same - the coupons from the candle store you liked, the newspaper from your hometown you still followed, and the countless number of spam emails that seemed to always flood your inbox.
Slamming your laptop shut, you let out a huff and fell back into your seat, looking around your office. Your hands found your face and you ran them up and down, groaning before letting your body go slack, arms draped over the arm rests as you twisted side to side in your chair.
For such a busy woman, life often felt lonely to you. Living in your great-aunt’s old manor didn’t help either. The ghosts of those who lived before you seemed to be the only friends you had.
That, and the animals you had out back.
Pushing yourself up from your chair, you made your way out of the office and down the hall, going down the grand staircase. Your slippers scuffed across the floor as you made your way through the hall and into the breakfast nook, opening the door that led outside into the backyard. You had quite a few animals - the acres in your backyard reserved strictly for the farm animals that your great-aunt had before she passed.
Vee suggested that you send them off to someone else, seeing as though you were a busy woman who didn’t need the extra stress of animals. But you couldn’t do that to them, this was their home, more of their home than your own. You made it work, getting up early to feed them and take care of them before work that day and then spending evenings, like tonight, with them.
Opening the gate that secured the perimeter for them, so they wouldn’t wander outside of their area and onto the road to get hit, making your way into the fenced area. Most of the animals were already tucked away for bed, the occasional moo from one of the cows echoing across the hills. You didn’t mind though, sometimes coming in was more for you than it was for them. It helped get your mind off things.
Sitting on the stool you kept out for milking the cows, you rested your elbows on your knees, your chin on your hands. You knew it was rather ridiculous to be sulking so much - being such a successful aspiring artist with a manor and so much that many didn’t - but what nobody seemed to realize was how lonely you were. God, did you know it - you reminded yourself everyday.
But it wasn’t that you were appreciative of all that you had, no, you were more than thankful - but everyone had their one wish in life, and yours - still to this day even after everything, was that by some miracle Daniel would come back, that he would show up at your door on his hands and knees to beg for your forgiveness.
Vee reminded you daily that your dream wasn’t good for you.
“If he loved you as much as you like to say he did...why isn’t he here now? Why has he been gone for the last decade and a half? That doesn’t seem like the man who deserves you, let alone crying over.”
She was right though - he wasn’t worth your time of day.
Letting out a sigh, you wiped away the stray tears before the ‘baah’ from one of the goats made you jump, turning back to see one of the babies prancing your way, a smile growing on your face. It was late, and the mischievous goat should have been sleeping.
“And what are you doing up?” You scolded playfully, much like a mother would to their own child. You watched the baby goat sprint at you the last few feet, butting it’s head into your leg before pawing at the ground to get your attention, wanting to be lifted.
“Oh come here,” Bending down, you lifted up the baby goat and held them in your arms, watching as they got comfortable before tucking their head in the crook of your arm. “Which one are you, hmm?”
Twisting the collar your way, you looked at the name tag and smiled.
“Marlene, hello there sweet girl. What are you still doing awake? I believe it’s past your bedtime.” You heard the muffled ‘baah’ from under your arm and stroked her back, keeping her held in your arms while you enjoyed the moment.
Rocking her gently, you listened as she soon lulled into a sleep, your own head bobbing slightly as you grew tired yourself. Leaning back against the fence pole, you let out a yawn, adjusting so the wood wasn’t digging directly into your spine before your petting slowed.
“Just a minute...I’ll put you up in just a minute.” You whispered, your head falling back as you entered your sudden slumber.
Although your minute became minutes, then hours, until you woke to the erupting sounds of all the animals around you, growing impatient for breakfast. Groaning, you sat up, your back painfully stiff as you cracked your eyes open, looking around to see the animals eyeing you, running rampant as they waited for their food.
“Shit!” You hissed, standing up, stumbling as you lost balance before rushing around to get everyone fed for the day. God, did you really fall asleep out here? How tired were you? You must have been rather tired, seeing as though you slept on a stool propped against the fence post all night.
Thankfully though it didn’t take long, doing your regular morning chores until you were finally able to head back inside, or rather trudging back inside. Your body was painfully sore and while you slept a while, it was a rather shit sleep.
When you made it through the breakfast nook, into the hallway to go back into your room, you stopped at the sight of Vee who was coming down the stairs, looking for you.
“There you are! I looked everywhere for you, did you forget that we were supposed to meet with some of the other museum directors tod-” She paused, nose turning and she sniffled the air, “What is that smell?”
“Me, probably,” You stated, watching as Vee looked at you confused, before you motioned behind you, “I fell asleep out back last night...just woke up actually. I’m sorry, I’ll go get ready an-”
But before you could leave and go get ready for the day, Vee held out her hand, stopping you before pulling out her phone, texting with one hand while you waited patiently, swaying slightly as you still woke up. When you heard the noise from her phone signaling she had sent a text to someone, she lowered her hand and smiled.
“Vee, you didn’t have to do that. I’m sorry I-”
“Please, look at you. Better yet, smell yourself. You reek! Go take a shower and come back down. I’m craving a mimosa. You and I will get breakfast together, think you need a break from all the museum directors breathing down your neck.”
You could only smile, nodding towards Vee before going in for a hug, stopping suddenly when she took a step back. “After your shower. I’m not letting you stink me up too.”
Letting out a laugh, you shook your head and made your way up the stairs, throwing your clothes off and into your laundry basket before heading into your bathroom to take a quick shower for the day.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
As much as yesterday was odd for Daniel, the new day had been even more odd. He wasn’t expecting much - maybe a phone call from his boss about his outburst yesterday - in fact, Daniel might have rather had that, then what he had been going through all morning.
“So let me get this straight...you want me to take your grandfather to the art gallery? I don’t see why you can’t just do it, Will.” Daniel explained, standing near his t.v. stand while Will, the kid from the restaurant, sat on his couch beside his grandfather, and Kali, the other girl from the restaurant, sat on his other side.
It would take a bigger idiot than Daniel to believe the mask he was wearing. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to give the man a ride and earn a few extra bucks, given how he was now out of a job, he just wasn’t ready to face you again.
“I got school. Remember? I’m only in high school still. Kali can’t cause she doesn’t have her license yet,” Will explained, shrugging his shoulders before motioning to his grandfather, who looked to be falling asleep, “Besides...he wants to go see an old student - that old student just so happens to be the girl you’re still obviously in love with-”
“Hey now, Will, I appreciate it...but I’m not still in love with her. That’s in the past, and I’ve moved on.” But had he? Had he really moved on?
Frowning, Will nodded and looked down, Kali glancing towards him before standing up, making her way to Daniel. Grabbing onto his arm, Kali smiled weakly at Daniel.
“Maybe if you don’t wanna go and see her, just go to appreciate the art? Who knows, maybe there will be a story there worth writing about? This could be your big break!” Kali suggested, trying to convince Daniel in any way she could to go. “Besides...you’re out of a job now, what exactly are you doing that’s keeping you from going?”
Opening his mouth, Daniel went to say something before realizing what the kids were doing - they were trying to help him out, cause after all...teenagers seemed to know more than he did.
Kali was right, even if he went and didn’t run into you, there could be a potential story there, something he could write about. That, and Daniel did always get along well with his high school art teacher, so maybe this wouldn’t be all that bad? It’d be good for him to get out of town.
Sighing, Daniel looked at Kali one last time before back at Will, then his grandfather who was now snoring on his couch, “Fine...I’ll take him. But if you guys are trying to set something up, you’re wasting your time. That’s in the past-”
He was surprised to feel the sets of arms wrap around him in a hug. Laughing lightly, Daniel awkwardly patted Kali and Will’s back. “Guys...come on now, you offer a bum cash and it’s going to take a lot for him to refuse.”
Feeling Kali pinch his side, Daniel jumped back, yelping before watching the two laugh now, Will’s grandfather now waking up and looking around, as if he were trying to figure out where he was at. Okay, so maybe taking care of him wouldn’t be all that fun, but it couldn’t be all that bad? Right?
“So, when do we leave?” Daniel asked, watching Will and Kali help his grandfather up before making their way to the door.
“Tomorrow morning. If you leave at six, you’ll get there by four - give or take traffic - we already have your room booked so you just have to check in once you get there.” Will explained, opening the front door to begin heading down the steps and outside.
Following the trio, Daniel helped in any way he could with getting the old man down the steps, making sure he didn’t slip and fall. When they finally got outside and loaded him into the passenger seat of the car, Daniel took a step back, eyes furrowed.
“Wait...six in the morning? Jesus...I haven’t got up that early since-”
“Since the Christmas banquet breakfast that you were late for, yes, we know,” Kali stated, shutting the passenger door before turning to look back up at Daniel, “Just...wake up on time. Will and I will be over here just about that time on our way to school. So just be ready, okay?”
Nodding, Daniel let out a huff and pushed his hair back, “Yeah, yeah, I can do that...you know I’m the adult here, right? You guys really like to boss me around, huh?” When he felt Kali hug him again, he could only soften, hugging her back. “I’ll be up, just - don’t expect a whole lot out of me on this. I’m getting him there and back, that’s it.”
“Totally, and if you so happen to fall back in love with the girl you can’t seem to get over, then that’s all the better.” Will noted, helping Kali in the backseat before getting in the car himself.
Shaking his head, Daniel made his way to the left side of the car, looking at Will and Kali, “Hey, how did you guys even find out about her? I mean...I’ve never brought her up before.”
“Well after yesterday’s incident, Kali and I looked her up and found some old photos of you guys from high school. I knew you went to our school so I asked my grandfather about you guys and, well, he told us the rest. It was Kali who suggested you go.” Will explained, motioning to the backseat towards Kali who was grinning.
Kali was a sweet girl, who was maybe a little too obsessed with love stories - but Daniel couldn’t deny their obvious findings. Especially after yesterday, they were right to assume some pushed down feelings of his.
Daniel could only hope that if he got the courage, he’d be able to tell you how he felt, how sorry he was after all these years. But after all these years, would you even want to hear what he had to say?
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blazichu · 3 years
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#catch me rattling on about GG pt 2 for paragraphs
Please continue when you can. I love your reading your analysis!
Apparently I'm incapable of looking over one half of Good Genes without doing the other, so I guess we get a double feature tonight:
Part 1:
I am, of course, contractually obligated to point out my favorite line from the cold open: "My friend Donatello is one of the gentlest souls I've met, with one of the finest minds I've ever known." It seems especially relevant since, later on, Stockman reduces Don to "The smart one"
One thing I noticed this run through is that Leo's speech is slightly different than usual this arc. My favorite is his response to "It's only a matter of time before [Don] is lost forever"; his tone changes dramatically between the two halves of his line, "That's not gonna happen" and "We can't let that happen." The first is his usual 'decisive leader' voice, but the second has this kind of worried warble to it. It's great, and Sinterniklaas gets an A+
Of course there's the breakfast sequence. I don't really have much that hasn't already been said about it, but there's something sweet and sad about how Mike says that he "Just wanted to give him some food". It's just so little, a basic need that he's trying to fill because he cares, and it goes so wrong so fast.
My fourth point is kiiiinda weird and a stretch, but I've always loved the way Outbreak (as an arc) sets up so many bits and pieces that pay off specifically in AiTS/GG. It's usually stuff Don's been working on-- like the trapper gear, the tunnel to April's, or Stockman's helicopter. It's just neat, kind of setting up how indispensable Don's presence really is if he's able to help without being mentally present.
Anyway, right back to Leo and line delivery. The other part of this is that he keeps hesitating and grasping for the right words when it comes to what happened to Don. He refuses to put a name to it when he tells everyone that the helicopter was the last thing Don was working on, "[...] before... Before."
There's also "Don got infected. He's been transformed into... into a monster."
This is something I've definitely written about before, but idk if I ever posted it. Don's behavior after arriving at Area 51 is remarkably intelligent. He's able to use the guards' taser sticks against one another to get free, take out Leatherhead while he has the element of surprise (notable in that Leatherhead was the biggest threat/the one to subdue him in AiTS), turns on Stockman (who was responsible for the transfer in the first place), uses the glass from the containment unit as a shield, and actively prevents Splinter from doing whatever mind thing he did earlier. It's a far cry from lashing out and snapping wildly, and I've always thought it was interesting.
And the tranquilizer scene. Honestly, I find it kind of hard to watch, but I do like the way Leo kneels down next to Don after he's knocked out.
Part 2
I'm gonna talk about cold opens again, because I just realized that this episode essentially begins and ends with the same message: "It's an impossible mission, but what can we do? Our brother is sick, and there's nothing we won't do to save him."
So. The really cool thing about Good Genes Part 2 is how much it directly highlights the lack of Don's presence without actually saying as much. Raph splits off to handle the technology (albeit in an explosive manner) and is seen hauling the duffelbag around. Leo has the headset and is coordinating with April throughout the mission. Which leads me to...
One of the major set pieces in this episode is a callback: the obstacle hallway, Mystic chamber and elevator from Return to New York. I don't think it was an intentional connection, but part of their plan involves repurposing a mech suit to use against the Foot, which is exactly what Don did with Stockman's robotic body in Return. This bulletpoint is 100% me finding meaning where there probably wasn't any, but still.
This one's slightly off topic, but I've said before that I thought it was a dumb decision to have Leo confirm to Karai that the rest of his family was alive and well at the end of Prodigal Son-- this episode is 99% of why I think it was a missed opportunity. Iirc, Karai doesn't appear between then and now, so this would be the first indication she'd have that anyone survived her assault-- and all the boys are here except Don. I just think there's a lot of potential there.
At one point, as Karai calls the Elite into the fray, Leo tells Mikey to take the Heart of Tengu and run-- that he'd hold them off. 'Them' being the Elite; he's about to face the Elite by himself to ensure that this works out. Just try to tell me that's not a statement and a half.
Idk why, but "Get in get out, right? It's not about Karai, right?" always stuck with me.
It's interesting how the episode also calls back to the old intro sequence, where April's piloting a helicopter and Don's jumping onto the rope ladder hanging down from it. Not much to say here, but it's neat.
I'm really bad at making out overlapping voices (and can't make sense of Mikey's line here at all), but after Leatherhead catches Don, you can hear Raph ask him how he's feeling, and Leo say "It's so good to see you again"
I mentioned Raph helping Don to the helicopter in the tags of that last post, but I'm also going to point out that Leo, who is supposed to be flying the helicopter at the end of the episode, is emphatically not watching where he's going.
And, of course, the big one: "I hope you guys didn't go through too much trouble for me."/"Nah!"
In addition to the first point for this episode-- the implication that NO trouble would have been too much-- there's the fact that, when nobody answers for a bit, you can see Don's expression fall. It's that fact that makes me love Mikey's reaction so much-- the way he grins back and tries to sooth that worry down.
Idk how much of this was really analysis, Anon, but I did promise to rattle on for paragraphs, and had a good time doing it. I hope you get some entertainment out of this ;)
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symptoms-syndrome · 2 years
Text
Ok another rant but under a readmore this time bc of the weird tag search shenanigans and this has what would possibly be seen as "key words" that could come up in searches I don't want them to. Warning I guess that I'm really fucking angry rn and that this is about the introject thing again.
Ok so I haven't slept or anything so maybe this won't make sense, but I feel like a part of why I refuse to touch "introject" stuff as it currently exists online is because the struggles people post about (whether they're valid struggles or not is not my place to say) are utterly foreign to me and not relevant to my life or experience in the slightest and likely never will be. And also they're the only thing people talk about re:introjects and nobody ever shuts up about it. Primarily the issues are "people are treating me like my source and saying they love [character]" or "I saw some fanart of [character] and it made me uncomfortable" or generally? I guess fandom-y stuff. And I don't mean to victim blame here but 1. If you walk into a Danganronpa server and introduce yourself as Komaeda or smth. I'm not sure what you're expecting and 2. A lot of the issues IMO can be boiled down to "please just learn how to filter things and scroll away block tags block blogs not everything is about u"
Occasionally there's some things I relate to, but even then they're often parsed in a way extremely different from my experiences. For example, I have parts that have "memories" or feel like they miss people who never existed, but like. I am able to recognize that that's just my brain putting some new paint on old traumas to try and make them easier to swallow, for the most part, and are more symbolic than literal. I never understood "source calls" in the context of DID/OSDD, as I thought we all knew that introjects aren't from some parallel universe and are created by our brains, and thus any people in any false "memories" are not and will not ever be real people? Which I get is hard to swallow sometimes, but IDK what ppl expect to get out of meeting a stranger on the internet whos brain related to a different dude from the same thing ur brain related to. PwDID aren't like. Psychics. I feel like the advice given for these posts (if they're not just empty platitudes, which is the most common) is utterly unhelpful for me. "Do things that remind u of ur source" "buy some manga of your source" "remember ur valid as [character]" I don't want to do any of those things actually. I would actually prefer to not be validated as a character bc I am not one. It reminds me more of what I'd expect from old kin communities I was a part of as a teen than what I'd expect from people within the frame of mental illness and trauma. And like, back when I thought I was kin I guess sometimes stuff like that felt nice, but feeling nice isn't always the goal. Sometimes something feeling nice can be a detractor from something that actually does good.
Not to mention, it feels like a lot of these posts are operating on this idea that not only are introjects a Special Kind of Part (which people more eloquent than I have made posts about how that's bullshit at best) but that everyone puts their introjects front n center, "this is Naruto from Naruto and here's his pseudomemories and likes and dislikes and-" etc etc etc like I can eliminate 99% of posts about introjects from my consideration based on the fact alone that I don't tell people about my introjects. No shade to people who do share, but it's just not a universal experience like how people frame it to be.
There are definitely things that I struggle with related to introjection. I just feel like it's very uncommon to see anything beyond "people treat me like the real [character]" or "people DONT treat me like [character]" or other shit like that related to like. Entering a fandom space openly as an introject, something I could literally never imagine doing I'd sooner microwave tin foil than join a fandom discord for a media I introjected from. I feel like a lot of the things I struggle with are very internal. Between me myself and I. No pun intended.
Anyway this is more and more of an annoyance clawing at my brain every time I've made the mistake of looking at anything any of the hash tag fictives or whatever post online or even just any shit about introjects in general. And bc people can't shut the fuck up about introjects for two goddamn seconds and DID is basically treated as introject disease on tumblr.edu it feels like I can't escape it bc it's fucking everywhere everyone's gotta talk about fictives and factives and fucktives etc etc all the fucking time whenever we talk about DID bc it's sooooo important to treat the anime boys right and make sure all the shit u post online about [anime of the week] is suitable for if the real Joe Schmo from Joe Schmo Adventures sees your post about how Joe's pal Jake has a good ass or whatever. I'm sick of it.
Ironically one of the introjected parts of my sys is telling me to tone this shit down a little and the other main one isn't around RN but would definitely not approve. I don't fucking care though I need to talk about how sick I am of this shit. I know he's sick of it too even if he's nicer about it. I can bitch if I want to I'm not hurting anyone and I'm not calling anyone out or anything I'm literally just saying I'm sick of the entire DID conversation being turned into "how to make introjects comfy" esp when the answers are bullshit and only apply to niche communities but are treated like the word of fucking god. """Singlets""" getting """educated""" on why it's of utmost importance you make Bakugo from the shit system feel safe and supported and shield him from any criticism or people who just don't like that character or like him too much or whatever not to mention the fucking RACISM that keeps rearing it's ugly head every time some white motherfucker feels the need to make some weird out of touch post about racism re:introjects with "ohhh u can't say slurs" bc that's all white ppl ever talk about with racism is fucking slurs which have the least relevance to any systemic change at all.
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