Arranged marriage AU with Barbarian Bakugou who is so daunting to be around at first. He’s all gruff curses and broad shoulders and scarred cheeks and neck and jaw. He scowls constantly, stares at you while your parents auction you off like some show pig, but doesn’t say much to you besides a grunt of his name. You’re terrified, thinking that he’ll be cruel to you, that you’re being set up for a life full of unhappiness and terror and regret.
But he’s the exact opposite. Bakugou is gentle in ways a man of his size typically wouldn’t be, but he shrinks himself for you. Not in a way that diminishes his status as the newly appointed king, but to respect you, show you that you’re beside him instead of behind him.
He picks you berries on his hunts because he knows the smell of a fresh kill brings nausea to your stomach. You find him along with the other maidens and helpers around his village, sitting beside them, big fingers holding tiny little flowers that he weaves into a crown for you. When he sets it on your head, he purses his lips, mutters something under his breath in his language that you’re still not too familiar with, but sure it means something along the lines of pretty and soft.
And when he finds you bathing in the river only few have access to, he’s sweet the whole time. Doesn’t make a spectacle of you being naked, and is relieved when you don’t instantly cower when he wades his way over to you. You try not to stare at the clawed scars that decorate his pec and jaw when he stands above you, and it helps when he suddenly dumps water all over your head. He shushes you when you splutter, continues on with cupping his hands and letting the water run off of your hair and down your shoulders, scrubbing at your skin until your flesh squeaks. He doesn’t expect you to do the same for him, but he hums in satisfaction when you push him down a little lower so you can wash the crown of his head.
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A completely sad/sappy (sadpy?) self indulgent piece I wrote last night while feeling several Feelings. consider this an author insert & death sans thing
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“... tell me about you.”
She blinked, sitting up, no longer leaning against his soft black cloak, waking out of the stillness the tree's shade and the gentle rain had cast over both of them. His words had come completely out of nowhere.
“Pardon?”
Reaper looked down at her, his expression unreadable. “i can’t say i’ve met many other mortals who seek out the company of death.”
She gave him a look. “Don't be ridiculous. I know plenty who would seek your company.”
“they would seek my touch.” His gaze was low. Those eyelights saw more than normal eyes ever could. “they would seek... earthly desires. nothing wrong with that, i also seek those. but i’ve never had someone seek me out merely for my company.”
“I’m not that interesting.” She mused, softly, notably leaning back against the tree, and not him. “Besides. You’re great company.”
“tell me regardless.” He pressed. “consider it my just payment. for my great company.”
... She hummed. Despite her easygoing exterior, he could sense her resistance, her immediate discomfort. He had sensed it, from the beginning; her unwillingness to share about herself. Her quick deflections, her paradoxical fear of letting others know her, despite her clear desperation to be known.
He was patient. He would wait as long as it took for her to collect her words.
...
“... You’re the only one who gets it.” She said, eventually. Her voice lacked its usual quickness, its usual exact choice of word, the wittiness he liked so much.
That gave Sans pause. “... go on.”
“I don’t... love anyone. I don’t feel romance. I can’t help it.” She stared into the middle distance. “I’ve never been in love with anybody. Even when I really wanted to be.”
He watched her, quietly.
“... I let my guard down, y’know. Every now and then. I let myself get close to people. Then... sometimes they start to feel things that I can’t reciprocate. They want me to love, but I can’t. They see it as a fault with me, or worse themselves, and what we had in the first place falls apart.” She looked down at her hands. “I gave up getting close, because I’m tired of hurting people I care about with the way I am.”
“... hm.”
“... You’re the only one who... gets it, I think.” She couldn’t look at him. “Feeling like you’re separated from everyone else, through no fault of your own. But at the end of the day, that separation is the reality you’re in, and you have to live with it.”
“feeling as if everyone is part of something that you can’t even begin to be part of. and even if you suddenly joined one day, everyone else is so far ahead of you, you could never hope to catch up in time.”
She nodded. She did eventually look at him, a small smile forming on her face. “Yes.”
“you enjoy my company most, because you know i won’t grow to expect anything from you?”
“You’re mature. You’re... well. Death. I’m a human. I can trust you not to love me. And theoretically, even if you did, I think you’d have very different expectations about it. Expectations we could manage.”
“... is that why... your relationship with error is so fraught?”
She let out a short laugh. “Error and I are ‘on break’. Would you believe me if I told you I used to like him the most, because I thought he hated my guts too much to catch feelings?”
Sans grinned. “error is full of surprises. yet i think the fact that you grew to somehow like him surprises me the most.”
“He’s a giant manbaby. But he’s funny. And I liked having someone I could shamelessly argue with.” She tucked her knees up to her chin. “We’re not on speaking terms at the moment. He got upset I spend so much time with you, then tried to kiss me.”
“... ah. that’s why he’s been watching romantic aus.”
“... I write about worlds full of love. Worlds where, regardless of looks or faults, romantic love always prevails and conquers all. Worlds where a self-insert can feel all those feelings I hear about on the radio.” Her breathing was very controlled, very quiet. “But it’s wish fulfilment, isn’t it? Giving a version of me the things I’ll never have. Giving everyone else the stories I’ll never be part of. Even if one of my most perfect characters stepped right out of my pages, I’d never have that 'happy ending'. I couldn’t give them what they wanted from me. I couldn’t give them what I want to give.”
A pause. She didn’t seem to like how obviously upset she had become. She emotionally retreated, quickly fixing on a smile, lowering her legs back into their previous crossed position.
“... I sound full of myself, I know." She chuckled artificially. "Oh, woe is me, I can’t get close to anyone because everyone just falls in love with me all the time.”
“no, not at all.” Sans reached out, and laid his hand over hers. “it’s happened more than once. you can’t blame yourself for recognising a pattern.”
... She squeezed his hand.
“i can’t promise i won’t love you. that’s a dangerous promise to make.” He murmured. “but i can promise i won’t ever expect romance from you, nor let romantic feelings define our relationship. closeness and love does not require romance. i’ve had thousands of years to come to grips with much more upsetting subjects than a woman potentially not returning affection i develop.”
...
She shuffled up to him, and tucked herself back against his cloak, her cheek pressed to the soft fabric. He reciprocated, wrapping an arm around her.
“Thank you.” She said, quietly.
"of course."
... They stayed like that, for a long time.
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Haven't properly gotten into Durge yet but bare with me:
from what we've seen, Durge's opinion of Orin wasn't too great; complaining that she is playing with her pray and the aftermath of them as with toys, taking her damn time and not really understanding the point of their Lord Bhaal - it is not the spectacle of mxrder but the act itself that is valued - destruction of all life - and in his name.
So imagine the rage, envy and animosity Orin had felt when her (in my case) 'big sister' - the favourite in the family who starts to get an even more important role in the grand scheme - starts to get entangled with Gortash and his manipulative ways of domination - and not destruction how Bhaal wills it.
As she herself says: '…the little lordling has been whispering in your ears? He always knew how to tumble and twist your mind matter, leave you knotted in his cords.'
Now, ignoring how absolutely deranged that line makes me (lmao) I can fully understand Orin, no matter how messed up she is: besides being the preferred spawn, Durge would also be getting away with meandering or straying from the course of their goal as well- no wonder she decides that she had enough of it and if she can't make herself the favourite, she can make herself the only…
How that pans out for her depends on the Durge, but can't say all too well hah.
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