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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

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Anything

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When the Avengers latest mission is to visit local schools, Loki’s insecurities start to get the better of him. But with you to there comfort him, he realizes that with you by his side, he can do anything. Warnings: a little angsty, but mainly fluff A/N: Enjoy :)

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Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki frowned, looking out the window, down at the Avengers getting into Stark’s limo. They were doing some kind of awareness week at schools in the city, something or other about being a good citizen and staying safe. The God of Mischief had been invited to come, but he didn’t think it a particularly good idea. He’d never done anything with children before, and he wasn’t sure this was the best time to try.

“Loki?” you asked out of the blue. He whipped around at the sound of your voice. “What are you still doing here?”

“Oh, hello, darling. I just did not feel like going,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he still felt bad. “And what about you?”

“They insisted someone stay in case of an emergency call,” you explained. You weren’t totally sold on his excuse, but were terrified of pushing him, especially because things were going so well between you recently. “So that means we’re alone, right?”

“Yes, darling. Indeed, it does,” he replied, a smile curling on his lips.

Faster than lightning, Loki was pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. You’d been dating for a little over a month, but were keeping it a secret from the rest of the Avengers. You both had your own reasons for that. Loki was afraid they wouldn’t approve and try to come between you. You, however were worried that Loki would put too much pressure on himself to be perfect if they knew, ending in him pulling away from you, convinced he wasn’t good enough. But either way, you agreed it was too soon to let them know. Soon, Loki had you pinned on the couch with his body, the raw desire in his kiss only growing. All too soon, you had to break for air, but you were quick to recapture his lips after catching your breath.

After a while, you were content to just lay with each other, cuddling while a movie played in the background. You were talking, and it reminded you of his flaky excuse from earlier. You were still worried about pressing, but god damn it, he was your boyfriend and you should be allowed to check on him.

“So...” you began.

“So?”

“So what’s the real reason why you didn’t go with the rest of the team?”

“Ah,” he said. “That.”

“Mhm. You don’t have to tell me,” you replied, caressing his cheek, “but you can always talk to me. I’m here for you, Loki. I promise.”

“I know, darling. Thank you,” he said against your skin as he nuzzled into your neck. He didn’t want to trouble you with what was on his mind, but your eyes were so innocent and full of adoration that he couldn’t resist. “I am afraid. Afraid that I would not be good with kids, that I would frighten them. Afraid that their parents would learn of my visit and cause an uproar. Afraid that I will never escape my past.”

“Oh, Loki,” you cooed, filled with compassion. You wanted to take his face in your hands, but he was still hiding in the crook of your neck. You settled for intertwining your fingers with his. “You are so, so much more than your past. New York wasn’t even your fault, for crying out loud. You are amazing, kind, insightful, compassionate, intelligent, beautiful. The list goes on and on, I assure you. The only way to deal with your fears is to face them head on, don’t you think? They may not even come true.”

You could feel his tears staining your skin, though he was obviously trying to hold them back. You were overcome with a powerful need to comfort him, to protect him from the world. It was so unfair that after all he’d been through, everyone who had hurt him, he blamed himself for all this. That he worried he wasn’t worthy of love when he was, in fact, the most deserving person you’d ever met.

“My darling,” he whispered, his voice breaking ever so slightly. Your chest swelled with pride as you realized you were one of the few—possibly the only—people he let himself be vulnerable with. “I cannot thank you enough for your words, truly.”

“You’re welcome, Loki,” you replied, taking a page out of his book and kissing the back of his hand. “You mean the world to me, my love.”

“And you the same to me,” he finally lifted his head up, and you turned to look at him. “I feel I can do anything with you at my side.”

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

“Yes. I will go with the rest of the team tomorrow if, and only if, you come with me.”

“Deal,” you agreed, kissing along his jawline and starting another make-out session.

Luckily, you heard the Avengers before you were in view of each other, giving you and Loki a chance to untangle yourselves and move to opposite ends of the couch. You shared a smile before turning your attentions to the TV as if that’s what you’d been doing the whole time.

“Well, I hope you two had a nice time while we were out doing hard work,” Tony joked.

“Tell you what,” you replied. “You get someone else to hold down the fort, and we’ll go tomorrow.”

“I’ll stay,” Bruce volunteered, a little too excitedly. He never was one for social settings. “Have fun.”

After catching up for a few minutes, you were all setting about your various tasks for the rest of the day. Before meeting Sam in the training room, you gave Loki’s hand a quick squeeze and pecked him on the cheek. Once you were gone, a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. But he’d meant what he said, and he was willing to do anything so long as you were there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean we can’t visit the same classroom?” you incredulously asked.

“It’s too slow,” Steve explained. “We cover more ground, so to speak, if we split up.”

“But can’t Loki and I be a pair? Please,” you pouted.

“Sorry guys,” he said. “We have to stick to the plan if we’re going to get to all the classes.”

You frowned as he walked away. You understood where he was coming from, but felt like he should have been able to make an exception. But it seemed like there was no getting him to budge, so you dropped the matter.

“Hey, at least our classes will be right next to each other,” you tried to comfort Loki as you all walked towards your assignments. “I’m sorry I can’t stay with you though. I know I promised.”

“Oh, my sweet darling,” Loki replied, pulling you aside to give you a quick kiss. “It is not your fault. It is some Midgardian rite of passage, is it not, to be scared on your first day of school?”

You smiled at the way he was cheering you up, despite obviously being very worried about the whole situation himself. Honestly, you really couldn’t fathom why anyone was afraid of this gentle, beautiful man before you. Why he was afraid of himself.

“I love you, Loki,” you said, giving him a big hug. He melted into your touch. “You’re going to be wonderful. You feel ok with this, right? We’ll figure something out if you don’t.”

“I shall muddle through, somehow,” he assured you. “It is like you said, I must face my fears.”

You gave him one last encouraging hug and smile before disappearing into the classroom you’d be talking in. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door of his assigned room. The teacher, a middle-aged man with hair starting to gray, welcomed him. It was a little unnerving to Loki that he seemed to have no qualms with the God of Mischief entering the threshold. The class, too, was watching him with nothing less than rapt attention and bright eyes. Perhaps you were right, after all, and not as many people as he thought were still holding onto the image he’d had when he first came to Midgard.

“Hello, children,” he began after a nervous gulp. “It is lovely to be here with you today.”

“Hello, Mr. Loki,” they chorused back.

As he began the talk on safety, he relaxed a bit. It was a room full of third graders, for Norns’ sake. He had faced off against fire serpents and sea monsters. Surely he could handle a group of kids. And as he soon found out, he was right indeed. More than handle, in fact; he was great with them! As he waltzed out of the room and into the next, he wondered if he might have a family of his own one day. He didn’t know how you felt about adopting, but he was starting to like the idea. It didn’t go too well for him in his childhood, but he could ensure that some other innocent kid won’t go through what he did. Besides, the circumstances were entirely different. Though, he supposed he was getting ahead of himself, imagining having a family with you. Still, it sent a thrill right to his heart.

After a very successful morning, he met back up with you. Being the first two done with the presentations, Loki took the opportunity to whisk you away to a secluded hallway to kiss you again.

“So it went well, I take it,” you laughed as you broke away.

“Just as you said it would, darling. I even had fun.”

“Well then, congratulations, my love. I think that deserves another kiss,” you said, wrapping your arms behind his neck.

“I think that you are right,” he agreed, tickling you a little.

As your lips met again, you heard a loud, overdramatic gasp that could only belong to Tony. You both sprung back from each other, realizing the hallway wasn’t as private as you’d originally believed. Besides Tony, the other Avengers were all standing there, taking in the scene too. Shooting each other a nervous glance, you and Loki braced yourselves for whatever came next.

“You two,” Tony said, feigning utter shock and hurt, “are dating? Woe is me! How could you keep this a secret from us, your dearest teammates?”

“Spare me, Stark,” Loki said, rolling his eyes and taking your hand. If you’d been found out, might as well be confident about it. “Yes, we are together. And I, for one, couldn’t be happier.”

“Neither could I,” you agreed, going to kiss him again.

“Now, now,” Tony interjected. He stood between you and put an arm over each of your shoulders, leading the way outside. “No kissing in the halls. But you know what? I think this is the start of an awesome era for the Avengers. Just think of all the jokes!”

You giggled as Loki rolled his eyes again, though he was fighting a losing battle with a grin. As you got into the limo, fingers locked once again, Loki began to accept something. It was right what you’d said about that not being the real him at the Battle of New York. No, he was himself now. Someone different, perhaps better and stronger than ever before. And it was you in a large part who had helped him see that. He knew in that moment that he’d been entirely right; with you by his side, he could do anything.

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sugiwa · 3 years

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small dreams

It took one 27 second long video for Keigo to fall in love

The video looped through every news cycle, and each reaction varied from outright derision to almost mythical awe emerging. On YouTube, it was viral in fifty-three different countries and Starburst—a name derived from a candy company that the pro-hero was fond of—jokingly tweeted that she was more famous than All-Might.

And she might have been thanks to the reporter that not only caught her decking the father of a girl she just saved but also recorded the subsequent twenty-seven seconds it took for three police officers to pull her off him and pull her away. The peace sign Y/N threw up as the police led her into a car probably didn’t help, nor did the live stream of her twenty-four hours in a holding cell while they investigated her claim of the man’s abuse and finally released her.

Though there were news outlets that tried to pin Starburst down as a hero on the edge of villainy, her public reputation hadn’t taken any damage. It was hard, after all, to claim that she did the wrong thing when they heard the girl’s testimony and pulled her medical records. But, Starburst—or L/N Y/N—still faced punishment from the Hero Public Safety Commission despite all this.

Attacking an unarmed civilian was apparently a big no-no—even if he was an abusive asshole. She was spared having her license revoked until she retested the simple principle that she had refrained from using her quirk. Her sentence was lessened to a month-long suspension with a strict patrol schedule in some city near Tokyo.

Y/N could work with it. She could put up with the Commission’s inane chatter for the sake of her job, but she drew the line at issuing an apology. It took three hours to wiggle her way out of a press conference to address the event. By the time her meeting with the Commission and sentencing was done, Y/N retweeted the initial video with the caption: Totally worth it.

Keigo was slightly in love with Starburst. Maybe it was the way she strolled into the Hero Public Safety Commission building fresh out of handcuffs and bluntly told them that she wasn’t apologizing and would rather become a vigilante than listen to ten more minutes of them debating the future of her career.

Or maybe it was the video which he’d seen a hundred times over, where she looked like a hero. The kind he’d always dreamed of as a kid, the kind who swooped in and beat the bad guy and then offered you stickers and candy and told you everything would be alright because it was exactly what she’d done for that little girl.

Either way, L/N Y/N was a hero who deserved a little rest, which was why he was currently tailing her patrol route and taking care of the problems before she could move. Her quirk was right out of a comic book too. The golden energy that left her capable of issuing an instant KO.

“Will you leave me alone?” she snapped, finally turning around to glare at him. She had a warm face, not made for anger which was probably why the glare fell away a moment later, replaced by a smile. “I appreciate the help, but I’m not offering any fanservice in exchange.”

“Who said I was a fan?” His wings flapped, feathers flying back toward him.

“You regularly stalk girls mid-air? That sort of thing does not fly with me.” Y/N laughed, nose scrunching at her own joke. “Get it…cause we both fly….”

He smiled innocently, “Thought of that all on your own?”

Y/N groaned, twisting her earring, “Just because I didn’t go to a fancy-ass hero school like Wet Jeanist and Flameo Hotman doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

Slight insulted by the nickname she gave his favorite hero, he asked, “Flameo Hotman? You mean Endeavor-san?”

“Ohhh, that’s a man-crush voice.” Her eyes tightened with mischief, “I’m gonna have to dip since I got a hot date with my credit card. See you later, Chicken Little.”

He watched her go in slight awe because Y/N really was as crazy as the stories said. Starburst was a hero that had a bit of a cult following. She wasn’t high enough in the rankings to be wildly popular the way he was—up until she went viral, that was. A graduate of Ketsubutsu who went on to attend college before actually becoming a hero, she was on a watch list with the Hero Public Safety Commission.

Apparently, non-conformity was an issue…who knew.

A rain of confetti fell over Keigo’s head, brightly colored and all covered in specks of glitter. He inhaled deeply, turning to see Starburst’s grinning face as she eagerly clapped. Endeavor, like always whenever he was forced to be in Starburst’s proximity, turned around and stalked down the hall. Her confetti burned in his wake. Y/N’s voice followed him, offering an empty congratulations to the hero.

“How’s my precious senpai doing?” she asked, turning her attention to him.

“You really know how to annoy him, huh?” asked Keigo staring at the empty hall. If you gave Y/N too much attention, she ran with it. “What’s the deal?”

Y/N shrugged, rolling her shoulders confidently, “Some people are not equipped to handle true talent.”

“Yeah, right,” snorted Keigo.

“I may or may not have drunkenly confessed that I had no idea who he was to a bunch of reporters during last week.” Y/N made a rude gesture with her hand. “I mean, if you’re not Number One, then do you really matter?”

“Harsh,” he ruffled his wings, freeing the last of her glitter confetti and letting it rain on the ground. “You all good with the Commission now?”

“All thanks to you! I owe you one, you know that?”

“Nah,” Keigo waved her off, resisting the urge to laugh as she made her bright eyes as wide as possible. “It was pretty brave of you. Plus, I think anyone would have done the same thing.”

Three months out of trouble, Y/N once again made headlines for ‘accidentally’ dropping a child trafficker off a building. She caught him before he hit the ground, but apparently, the authorities deemed the emotional damage a little extreme.

“They probably would have been a bit smarter about it, though.”

“Well, don’t worry, no one expects you to be the brains.”

Y/N pouted. “True.”

Keigo laughed. “What are you doing here anyway? You’re not in the top ten.”

“Is bullying the new rage these days?” Her pout grew, arms crossing over her chest, “Everyone’s got something snippy to say to me. Where’s Rumi when I need her?”

“Gonna hide behind her?”

“Fuck yeah.” Y/N nodded emphatically as she reached into her pocket for a pack of gum. She offered him a piece. “Let’s see how your chicken wings stand against her legs.”

Keigo looked at the gum and then her. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, “Wanna get something to eat?”

Her smile looked like the sun, “Thought you’d never ask.”

“So, what’s the deal with you and Dragonbreath?” asked Y/N, sprawling across his couch. It was the third time this week she was here. He should tell her to leave, but the words die in his throat in his mouth every time he tried.

There’s too much risk. Dabi’s listening in on everything he does these days, and he doesn’t want her anywhere near them. Not when he’s aware of what they’re planning. Not when he knows how Y/N would react.

She was rough and improper in everything she does, but there’s no one brighter or better when it came to genuine goodness.

Keigo dodged the question with his own. “Endeavor again?”

“Ran into him last week and got yelled at for ten minutes for getting in his way. The guy was in my path, and I’m the one getting yelled at? Next time, I’m drop-kicking him off his skyscraper.” She kicked her leg in the air, reminding him that she was scarcely dressed.

Was this what having a girlfriend like? Constantly jumping between fondness and horniness? He wasn’t complaining.

He heard this threat a million times. “Still mad about the fact that he has one?”

“I’m a simple country girl. I’d be happy with a peach orchard and some chickens.”

“Come here,” he crooked his finger at her. Y/N got up instantly, crossing the room toward the balcony where he stood. Her hands wrapped around his waist, slipping under his shirt, across his skin, over his chest. Too much and too little at the same time.

“You’ll get cold out here,” she murmured. He could sink in the warmth she offered.

“It’s nice seeing the world so still.”

A noise left her throat, wet and worried, “Hawks, whatever it is, whatever they’re making you do, I’ll be here. I promise.”

People joked about Y/N being dumb—he did it too often to count, but she saw more than most people did when it mattered.

“Why’d you become a hero?”

“Saved a cute boy once, and he gave me a kiss,” she said. He’d heard that story before. She offered it in every interview, never expanding on what boy or how she saved him. It was also a glaring lie.

He didn’t push her. He lied about too many things to count.

Keigo took her face between his hands—the urge to kiss that tiny speck by her eyes thrummed through him. It would take a thousand-thousand years for him to forget her face. Y/N turned, her lips skimming his palm, cold and warm at once.

He loved her because she was Y/N. Because in her, he could love himself and not grow cold from it. Because the numbness he’d always known leaked out in place of affection. He loved her boundlessly—above, below, and across—unhindered, without ill will, without enmity.

It was with her that he was Takami Keigo and not the current Number Two.

His hand cupped her neck, fingers tangling in the curls of her hair. Her lips opened under his. A trail of fire burst across his lips, and for a moment, he only knew the sweetness of her mouth. He drank her in, each breath, each hushed sound leaving her throat.

He would do what they asked and make the choices no one else could.

It was worth the world he dreamed of.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks x y/n #tamaki Keigo x y/n #bnha x reader #mha x reader #takami keigo #bnha #mha #hawks #mha hawks

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echoeternally · 3 years

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Hi there! I have a bit of a strange request for you, if that's okay. I'm currently in the process of planning/writing a longer Star Fox fic that prominently features Panther, and by extension, the FoxPanth ship, and I was wondering if you could give any pointers on writing Panther and/or him and Fox together?

This isn't strange at all! I'm even delighted, like, someone asking me about a pairing that I originally thought almost no one else would enjoy, and so they can write it too? It's like a dream, my gosh!

Give me one more second, like, I'm so amazed that this happened with my rare pair for Fox/Panther. FOXPAN! Of all pairs, I'm thrilled!

Ok, ok! Let's see what advice I can scrounge up for you.

A lot of people are under the impression that Panther is a pretty clear cut character in one regard or the other, but he actually offers a lot of flexibility to write about. That's probably why I gravitate to using him so often for Star Fox content.

Writing him playing off of Fox has a surprisingly enjoyable kind of chemistry, but it depends on what you go for with them. Coming to me means that you're in for the shipping, so, that I can help with!

Kind of prefacing that a bit because I know this is going under a cut, which I'm adding in here. More below, of course! Also, it's going to be a lot longer than you're expecting, so...I'm hoping that helps!

...

~Panther's Background~

Ok, I'll start with Panther as a character, since understanding how you want to portray him is the first part to nail down right.

People kind of mistake Panther to be a flat villain and a basically a pervy flirt, nothing more needed to build his character. It's easy to write him off as such, given how little canon support the games give.

There are some very, very crucial elements that he's given with his appearances, however, and they tend to be overlooked.

First and foremost, a lot of folks like to lump Panther in as "just another Star Wolf crony," which is fair if you don't focus on him.

However! What's critical that too many people ignore is that, in Panther's debut appearance, that's a brand new Star Wolf too. With the story for Star Fox: Assault being what it was, Panther is part of the Star Wolf team that no longer operates as mere mercenaries for the main villain and the obvious rival team, but he's part of a team that becomes allies to Fox and friends by the endgame.

Anyone can take that any way they want, but Panther is basically part of the lightest and kindest, perhaps even the most fleshed out version of Star Wolf. So, people that gleefully like pairing Fox off with Wolf because he has those "hey pup" lines? They should very well like the roster from Assault, because that's the installment that gave the most credibility to Wolf even being capable of defecting.

There's a lot of ways that it could be explained, but notably, Panther is the new big member on the main roster. Sure, they could fill a seat with anyone, but look at who they chose: this lighthearted goofball that enjoys playing with his rivals as much as he does causing trouble. A far cry from the likes of Leon, Pigma, and Andrew, who were on the more ruthless side of Star Wolf.

Many like Panther to be along that side too, and depending on how you want to characterize him, that could work out.

My personal preference, however, is that Panther is part of the catalysts that helps Wolf defect from being fully evil.

He's less interested in hurting civilians and being some kind of hotshot assassin. There's no hard support that Panther's criminal record involves heavy war crimes and murder, and canon biographies about him state him to be an elusive criminal that troubled Cornerian army officials.

Rather, Panther is entertained by causing mischief and enjoys playing around. He's cunning, but in ways to further his goals and those of his allies, not to play as a pawn in another's schemes.

I like to create the background that Wolf and Leon got low and desperate when searching for new recruits, and after meeting up with Panther, they adopt similar traits from him, easing up on their rougher traits in favor of getting their work done.

Basically, I favor the idea that Panther helped make Wolf better. (Which is totally a fun basis for Wolf/Panther, something that I've wanted to write for a few years too, lol.)

~Characterizing Panther~

It really depends on what you're doing with writing him, because you can make him a criminal even still and have that work nicely. However, I tend to give him ways out of being locked into a shadier background, focusing on his lighter traits, and making him more of a "gentleman thief" type of character foremost.

(For reference, I made him that kind of a thief in my fanfic, "Your Thieving Heart," because I really enjoy the idea that Panther's a cat burglar, as opposed to...well, whatever other people prefer.)

If you're focusing on an action or adventure story, I'd recommend using his craftier traits to help him stand out. Panther likes to play head games, because he'll tease and taunt his opponents, baffling them silly until they're clueless to his true motives.

He's also a skillful shot; in Star Fox: Command, Panther is the only playable character that does not use a Lock system for his Wolfen, which means that he makes a single shot that pierces most opponents. And in Assault, he makes a good support to both Star Wolf, and later on, Star Fox, so he can coordinate well in dogfights and combat too.

A story that's geared less to fighting, such as a drama or a comedy, would focus more on Panther's playful traits. Obviously his flirting, which I'll get to in a moment, but also, tweak the way that his playful and cunning manifests.

His teasing can be used to hide other facets of his character (maybe he's actually hurting and lonely deep down) or otherwise his goals (maybe he wants to get flowers for a partner and jokes about missing a meeting to do so).

His smarts can be used to show a more analytic or thoughtful side to him; while Panther isn't the type that would be the smartest in the room, he's absolutely underestimated by everyone, and can get away with a lot of surprises as a result.

Character flaws are pretty simple. Panther can be arrogant, so he can go a little too far touting his prowess and skill, as well as take his joking a little overboard without realizing when to back down. Since he is a criminal, he definitely has a less than luster past, which can hold him back, depending on how you want to write his criminal history. Also, I tend to think of him as a type that comes across charismatic and social, but in reality wants something quieter.

That last bit has support from a profile description in Command, which states that while Panther proclaims himself to be a "ladies' cat," he actually is known to fall "totally and completely in love" with his partner.

So, where people tend to limit him to being confident and flirty, that's the short and simple version to Panther. The deeper way to flesh his character out is to make him a hopeless romantic type, who craves and wants to find someone special to help fulfill his life.

Because a large portion of Panther's character gets limited to flirting with Krystal in his two major appearances, he's not given time to really show off the depths of his feelings. (I think Command tried, but that story got botched in a few too many places.)

He's not a misogynistic type, if I remember correctly, because he doesn't make any crude comments to berate or belittle Krystal's character, but rather, makes strong efforts to prime up his character instead, doing his best to come across as enticing and viable to her as possible.

Panther is super desperate and longing for love, and he's not above trying whatever methods he can to get there.

~Shipping With...Fox!~

So, how does Fox come into play on that? It's pretty easy, since Fox is also a flexible character as virtue of being the main player controlled character for the franchise. In other words, you can project a lot onto Fox in manners however you might like.

There are specific traits to Fox that remain part of his core character, however. He's obviously a strong leader, leading the legendary Star Fox team. If we go by Star Fox 64's ending, he's pretty humble, given that he turns down joining military ranks (presumably greater glory) to keep his life in a freer style with his contract work. (This gets played up as the series goes along, though Fox was actually pretty cocky in Star Fox 64, and somewhat so in Star Fox: Adventures as well.)

Given how his personality matures by the time of Star Fox: Assault and whatever went on with Star Fox: Command, Fox is something of a type that does abide by rules and doing the greater good type of work, but still retains some of his "off the books" or "go it alone" type of work.

So, since he's a hero that dances close to more lawful work, though still manages to find ways to slide around for what his objectives desire, that does make him a mostly "no nonsense" type, though on the friendlier and nicer side, of course. Fox can be portrayed as pretty orderly, in other words, and doesn't favor causing more trouble than he can handle, even if he's not above it.

Does that sound like something of an inverse to Panther, who tends to get into trouble and be mischievous? I should hope so!

Because they have foiled personalities from one another, that gives Fox and Panther elements of "opposites attract," since Panther can be silly and troublesome, while Fox tries to be serious and respectful. Panther has a shadier history with the Cornerian Army and his past is riddled with mystery and lack of depth. Fox, meanwhile, has staunchly strong and heroic ties with the Cornerian Army, who rely and count on his efforts to help them out. Additionally, he has a fair amount of his background explored as well, especially so compared to the enigma that is Panther.

Going by how flustered Fox gets in Star Fox: Adventures, Assault, and Command, he's also a bit sloppier in the romance department. He's seen as a stammering type, and shier around those that show interest in him, namely how Krystal does in the former two installments. He ends up being too protective of her in the last game included for that group, and kicks her from the team thinking that it was the safer option, when it really did nothing to stop her.

Those that ship Fox with Falco can also write him in angles to being oblivious to love, since Falco tends to be a bit harsh with Fox, which many like to write as him being guarded with his true feelings. So, combined with the information above, Fox is something of a romantic novice or rather inept at it.

Panther, whether he's actually good at romance or just likes to think he is, still comes across as an opposite to Fox on that level too. Whereas Fox falters and hesitates in romantic matters, Panther boldly strides forward to do his best in a quest for love.

There are some tricks to helping Fox and Panther work even better than just playing off of their foil traits however.

For starters: Both can be portrayed as very lonely souls.

Fox is a character that lost his parents at a young age, with his mother being out of the picture in every game installment, and his father dead before he's even 18. That's rough stuff, at least in my book. So, I'd consider that Fox has some isolated sides to his character that not everyone knows about, and that he has a side that grieves for his loved ones, and a side that longs to find a way to be loved and cherished in some manner once more.

Huh, does that sound familiar again? Someone that desperately wants to find love to fill a void in his life?

Oh wait, that's literally part of Panther's core too!

See, both Fox and Panther are seekers of love. While Fox may not be as forward with his intentions, he cares deeply for his team, his allies, and his planet, if not the entire Lylat galaxy. While Panther may not have such grand showings for compassion, he'd be the type that would be impressed, if not charmed, by someone so compassionate and caring.

If you take the idea that Panther helped make Wolf and Leon better, then it's likely that he also has a good deal of compassion in him too, seeing the best in people that the rest of Corneria and Lylat write off as the worst out there. Finding the light in the darkness is a kind of hopeful trait that Fox would absolutely be drawn to, since he can struggle to do the same.

Of course, both Panther and Fox are also skilled pilots, so, they have at least that much in common. Fox's skills are something that have outright impressed Panther in canon, and he compliments Fox a few times in both Star Fox: Assault and Star Fox: Command, commending Fox as his personal rival. It's not hard at all to shift that from mere respect to a deeper admiration.

Both are also very loyal and willing to see their goals through to the end. Fox proves this repeatedly in the games, but Panther shows such qualities in his appearances too, sticking by Wolf's side in spite of the challenges they face, and committing to his goals until they either are toppled enough to stop him, or until they are fully realized in a capacity that satisfies Panther well enough.

Typically, I like to mix things between "opposites attract" and "like attracts likes," to balance them out. Both Fox and Panther want to not be lonely and fall in love, to share their lives with someone. They're both also types that would be lonely in a crowd, though none are likely to suspect so, since they both come across confident and social enough to prove otherwise. Fox may find Panther's slippery side somewhat alluring, since he follows a freedom that Fox may sometimes wish he had from his more uptight and legacied life. Panther, meanwhile, might find Fox's loyalty and noble traits very endearing, because that means he'd firmly stand beside anyone that he committed himself to, something that Panther absolutely wants.

Naturally, you can play around with how you might like to portray them, based on the choices you'd make with your story, but those are some elements that I noticed and liked to help build it up.

While a lot of it is fairly made up with loose ties to canon, that's kind of the point to many fanfics. And even still, there is enough canon support to characterize Panther and Fox in a way that could make them a harmonized duo, to the point of romantic involvement.

Phew! Even I didn't realize how much I'd have to write about them until I actually put it all down, lol.

I do hope that you find this helpful. If you want any more information with building the pairing up for writing, please let me know! I'd love to increase the support that FoxPan gets out there, haha!

Thank you for asking too! This was a lot of fun to write out.

#panther caroso #star fox #fox mccloud #foxpan #shipping #askecho #igniswrites #how to ship foxpan #nice #another for a shipping series lmao

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ahloveisboo · 3 years

Text

cloudburst

pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader

genre: FLUFF!! TOOTH ACHING SWEETNESS!! IT'S VALENTINE'S DAY!!! tw for brief mentions of alcohol consumption and swearing.

wc: 974

summary: you really, really like going on dates with jeonghan.

a/n: this is part of the @caratwritersclub's candy gram project. so without much further ado: happy valentine's, @heartshxkr!! i hope this jeonghan brings u a little warmth in the cold weather.

ps: this is in the same universe as system!joshua

Time with Jeonghan is never boring.

Not even when you're sitting 3 feet apart, the tips of your shoes faintly brushing over sand as you silently swing back and forth. Jeonghan's on the swing next to you, engrossed in telling you a story about the night a drunk Joshua dared an equally wasted Seokmin to kiss a very sober Jihoon. There's a glint in his eye as he laughs, recalling Jihoon's face as Seokmin planted a wet kiss to his cheek unannounced and got his ass kicked for it.

The sun has set, the distant lamp posts casting long shadows behind the both of you. You kind of wish you could see the stars right now, but it's overcast and even the moon is hidden behind dark clouds.

Jeonghan scrunches his nose and manages a final chuckle, before noticing you haven't spoken since he started his re-enactment.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he offers, swinging sideways a little to get closer to you. His hand grabs the metal chains to tug you towards him, eyes tentatively trained on yours.

You take a moment to take in his appearance. His hair is a dark shade of brown, unstyled and soft against his forehead. His eyes, ever so warm, are faintly reflecting the glow of a lantern behind you. His nose and lips are slightly tinted red, a direct result of both the cold and the red wine you shared earlier tonight. He looks absolutely divine, and it stirs something inside of you.

"No thoughts," you smile, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his hand. Jeonghan instinctively brushes his thumb over the part of your skin he can reach. "I just—I like your smile."

It's unlike Jeonghan to blush. Instead, his gaze softens. Something flutters in your chest as he approaches, abandoning his swing to stand in front of you. He towers over you now, but it doesn't feel as intimidating as you'd expect it to be. "Thank you," he simply states, before cupping your face with both hands. "I do have an exceptionally radiant one."

At this, you laugh, the sound resonating louder than ever now that the night has brought along silence. Jeonghan smirks, squeezing at your cheeks for good measure as you bite back a giggle. "Yours isn't totally bad either," he confesses, his tone light and playful.

You half wonder if Jeonghan can hear the way your heartbeat pounds against your chest, the simple sight of him sending the muscle tumbling. For a second you believe he does, or maybe he feels it on your skin, and his voice is steady but fond when he tells you, "I'm going to kiss you now."

You swallow thickly.

"Good."

It takes excruciatingly long for Jeonghan's lips to reach yours, kissing you for the first time since you met. They're soft but cold, making you shiver as he moves against your mouth. You'd never voice how much you've longed for this moment out loud, just because Jeonghan would take your words and spin them to tease you, but fuck—you've been wanting this for so long and it feels so much better than you ever imagined.

You lean into him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you angle your face up to make kissing him easier.

Something wet drops onto your forehead, making you flutter your eyelids in confusion. Soon your nose is wet, causing Jeonghan to pull away—his hands still on your cheeks as he glances up at the sky. A raindrop hits him in the eye, and he sputters indignantly before wiping at it and sending a string of curses into the cold air.

You blink again, raindrops now falling more frequently and rapidly wetting your face.

Jeonghan laughs, hands reaching to catch the drops before latching onto yours, pulling you off the swingset and into the middle of the playground. By now, rain is crashing all around you, almost loud enough to drown out Jeonghan's childish laughter as he pulls you into his chest.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you yell, but there's no malice in your voice. There are little droplets of rain stuck to Jeonghan's eyelashes, rolling onto his cheeks and wetting the collar of his hoodie. Your breath gets caught in your throat, the urge to kiss him amplified by the way his face lights up in mischief, not at all disturbed by your accusatory tone.

"I'm kissing you in the rain, duh," he fires back, a hand on the small of your back to push you closer and before you can state the obvious, he catches your lips again.

This time, he’s less careful. Less tentatively exploring and more pushing boundaries. To be honest, despite his calm facade, Jeonghan’s mind is spinning, The moment he laid eyes on you, he knew he was done for. If not for your caution, he would’ve kissed you on the first date. But you had your heart broken a few too many times and he respected you enough to follow the pace as you set it.

There’s no caution in your actions now, though—every wall you ever built around you slowly crumbling at Jeonghan’s touch. Like you were made to kiss him, body moulding perfectly with his as he slips past your lips and you let him.

You kiss until you’re out of breath, until your sweater is soaked through enough to make you unable to ignore it. You smile as you pull away, your forehead resting against his in silent bliss.

You take a moment to just revel in his presence.

“Let me take you home?” Jeonghan interrupts your thoughts, his hand slipping into yours again, squeezing.

You blink the rain out of your eyes as you look up at him, before shifting your eyes to your entwined hands. “Yeah,” you agree. “Let’s go home.”

#yoon jeonghan #caratwritersclub #cwcvg2021 #svtwritersnet #jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan scenario #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan drabble #jeonghan x reader #seventeen jeonghan

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dilfbane · 3 years

Text

Your Weeping(Your Need For His Touch)

Summary: When things go south on a mission, you have to confront more than just the sketchy town, cartoon villains, and one-bed hotel room you’re forced to share with Loki. You have to come to terms with not only the consequences of being captured, but also the God of Mischief’s feelings for you - Because for all that he might be an asshole, sometimes, he really does have a heart. Written for the Picture Is Worth A 1,000 Words 6k Follower Writing Challenge by @startrekkingaroundasgard

Pairing: Loki/(Female)Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries and medical treatment, as well as discussions of the inevitable mindset around sacrificing oneself for the mission that I feel like being part of the Avengers would entail. Also swearing, because at its core, this story started out as a bit of a crack! fic.

Word Count: 7.8k.

A/N: So apparently when I have mental breakdowns they result in me writing crack-fic that takes a 180 veer into angst and fluff for absolutely no reason. For the sake of the crack-fic, in this timeline Loki was forced to help the Avengers take down bad guys directly after the end of the first Avengers movie, so… Is that a confusing plot hole I didn’t know how to account for except by making this AU? Maybe. Did I do it anyway?…. Yeah. This really was meant to be a crack-fic about Loki and the reader confessing their feelings set in the bizarre world of meme culture, I didn’t realize there were going to be feels in it until it was three in the morning and all of a sudden this happened. That being said, your girl went there, so enjoy!

“Oh, shit,” You say, as you take in the grimy hotel room. The walls all smeared in what looks like dried blood, the putrid smell of rotten eggs, a crack-screened television with a fine dusting of some suspiciously white powder. And, of course, “There’s one bed.”

“Hmm?” Asks Loki, turning towards you, briefly, from unpacking. He had dumped his suitcase(Magically plucked out of a chaotic liminal space) unceremoniously on the bed’s scratching, pilling coverlet without so much as a second glance at the rest of the room. And why do you need a suitcase, anyways?? You wonder. It isn’t like we’re planning to be here that long. In fact, you hoped with every fiber of your being that you’d be here for as little time as possible, because this town might actually be the sketchiest place you’ve ever seen in your life; no small feat, for a bona-fide member of S.H.I.E.L.D.

You’ve kicked alien ass on a mutated purple Mongolian death-worm three thousand feet over New York City. You’ve run reconnaissance to rescue debatably-magical items sequestered away in an ancient cave labyrinth plastered in paintings and untranslatable runes, gunfire and what could only be described as the baying of hellhounds in the near distance. You’ve fist-fought a gigantic hive-mind robot in a field of artificially sentient feral steel suits - You’ve even survived Tony’s parties.

Yet none of those scenarios hold a candle to this fucking town.

And Loki, the asshat, seems utterly, competently - no, maniacally - unfazed.

“There’s one bed,” You repeat, into the air.

“Ah,” Says Loki, straightening.

“You don’t see that problem with that?!”

“Should I?” He asks you, walking across the room in long, graceful strides to stand in front of you. He wears the same expression he always wears, amused and indifferent, but this time with the addition of a single, elegantly-arched eyebrow. You drop your head, refusing to meet his somewhat-curious gaze. It physically hurts, how attractive Loki is. Not for the first time, you curse whatever god decided that you and him would once again be mission partners - in this case, you belatedly realize, and choke back a thick laugh, said god is, unsurprisingly, Thor.

If you survive this, you make a note to beat his head in with Mjolnir. As it is, you are here in this room with Loki, with perhaps twenty IPP agents and a reckless poisoner dogging your every move, and there’s a high chance that you won’t live long enough to navigate whatever the hell sleeping with your crush-who-has-murdered-men. Ok, so ‘murdered men’ isn’t entirely accurate. More like ‘caused the murder of men inadvertently through his schemes’. It doesn’t seem to make much of a difference, right now.

And what about Loki? He is still staring you down, like you’re some wind up toy moments away from going off. Funny, that, you think. If ever there were a time to not have a mental breakdown, it would be here, with him. You’ve crossed a lot of moral lines in your life, but you will be damned if you let Loki Laufeysson see you cry. Loki is graceful. Composed. Sarcastic. Lithe. Rolls his eyes at almost every statement that comes out of somebody’s mouth. But he is, also, beautiful. Shockingly comforting, in his own nihilistic way. You don’t know what it says about you that you find comfort in statements like, Try not to die, you know that I hate funerals. Part of you - most of you - doesn’t want to. But it gives you strength, somehow, to shrug off the day and ground your flailing mind in evading Loki’s calculated manipulation. I won’t show you my weakness, you think to yourself. It’s not enough, but it’s a start.

“No,” You tell him - too quickly, he’ll pick up on that - “You’re right, you shouldn’t. It’s fine. We have - a lot to deal with, is all.”

Loki nods, seemingly accepting your answer, but his eyes are still narrowed, watching you like he’s calling your bluff. You talk right past that look - have to, to keep yourself sane, to not think about the one bed that looms large over this entire conversation. It doesn’t even look like a comfortable bed.

“We have two days,” You say, to stop yourself thinking of it. And, also, to talk your way through your disarmingly disjointed thoughts. Loki nods. It would really help if you said something, you think. Swallow the thought, hot and thick, down your throat. What’s the point of a mission partner if you can’t even soundboard off them? “The Pink Cobra could strike anyone, anytime. The IPP is planning something in New York - “

“Isn’t everyone, these days, planning something in New York?”

He sounds regretful, and for half a second you want to offer him the reassurance that his very presence offers you. But you are sure he doesn’t know what he does to you - with his words, with the sidelong glances that you’ve felt linger on your form far too long in the heat of a fight. If you didn’t know any better, you would say Loki worries about you.

“We have to shut him down,” You say. Focus on the Pink Cobra, because honestly, that’s easier. “Find out where he manufactures. Not get poisoned,” You add, at the end.

“Yes,” Loki says, tone dripping with sarcasm, “We should certainly try not to get ourselves killed. Failing that, I suppose, we can at least request that no one in H.Y.D.R.A gets autopsy access.”

“Loki?” You ask. Rhetorically. “You’re not helping.”

He smirks at you, then. He knows.

“What do you propose that we do then?” He asks, taking a step towards you, getting so close that you can feel his hot breath. “About the Pink Cobra?”

“Find him.” You say, fumbling, blush rising high on your cheeks.

Tonight?

One bed?

You are screwed.

***

When you were a kid - think really little, Capri Sun pouches and still believing that true love wasn’t complicated - your father told you that every story needed a good supervillain. You aren’t sure if the Pink Cobra counts as a good supervillain, but he’s the least confusing one that you have to deal with - and, as far as villains go, a fine enough challenge to face. He’s like a madman out of some high fantasy novel, with dark eyes and a sable-sewn cloak and a penchant for poisoning. He is adept in all the arts of the woman’s murder; he has a keen grasp on the side-effects of arsenic and camphor and tansy and cyanide and strychnine. He’s been found to have dropped crystal phials filled with belladonna and ricin while fleeing a scene. If all else fails, he’s more than practiced with daggers.

In other words, he’s the kind of villain that none of you, with your flying suits and telekinesis and super-strength, are anywhere near prepared to waylay.

The plan, as far as team Avengers is concerned, is easy:

You and Loki. This town, where the webs of his manufacturing production and the few glimpses of information that Thor has totally legally excavated out of his captured minions has led to. Two days until some undefined grand attack bears down on the city you live in. Two days to find the Pink Cobra and kill him. The more time passes with no headway, the more you think that this is an impossible task, but you know what Tony would say. We have our best minds on it.

The thing is, you aren’t sure that that’s true. The minds that have been set to this task are you and the God of Lies. It’s hardly the best they could have come up with, considering your track records. Actually, you take that back - Loki was a good choice for this mission, because, not three hours after arriving in this hellhole of a city, he seems to have somehow developed the ability to read minds. More specifically, yours. And that could prove stunningly useful.

The scene, as it stands: Loki, sprawled across the lumpy bed, three pairs of crisp white shirts, a plaid scarf, and a full set of Asgardian battle armor neatly hung in the mothball-infested closet, flicking through channels on the grain, cracked television with an apathetic expression and one arm thrown haphazardly over bent leg. Propped up in such a way that he could jump or spin or parry at a moment’s notice, yet perfectly, devastatingly languid, leafing through Nick Fury’s dossier on the Pink Cobra. He looks at you like a god, you think, and then remember. He is one.

You, on the floor, because on top of all the other things this hotel doesn’t have, like two beds, there isn’t anything even resembling a desk, shifting through a glowing, holographed file archive from headquarters that barely runs on your severely outdated laptop. It’s a point of pride to you, keeping the laptop - not because it’s good, but because it’s survived five years of being an Avenger, which is something not even all the Avengers can claim to have done. You’re also fairly certain that Tony’s attempts to update the firmware had infested it with some sort of renegade virus. Elevated above your screen, the files are split into two groups, the sum total of everything that you know about both of the groups that are avidly trying to kill you.

There’s the wealth of information containing the Pink Cobra’s poisoning sprees, but those aren’t the files that interest you, and you know that Loki’s not much interested in them either. That honor falls to the fanatics at the IPP, the Imminently Predictable Psyops organization, which you know even less about than you do about the Pink Cobra, chief among which the fact that they need a new name. Imminently Predictable Psyops?, Tony had said, when you’d finally apprehended one of their proxies. What do they think this is? Some type of ARG?

What you’ve gleaned, from months worth of studying the network, is that they operate as a sort of cringe-oriented death cult intent on ‘reshaping the universe through meme agents’. They’d been on S.H.I.E.L.D’s radar for a long time - upwards of a year - before anyone at team base learned they existed - which, you can almost hear Loki saying, was a failure in the extreme. Currently, it was your job to obsessively worry over whether they were going to send ‘meme agents’ to bust through the door of your seedy hotel room and off you both. You hated - truly loathed - how casually Loki was taking it all.

He’s acting like nothing was wrong with this situation, when, in fact, you’re ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure that this night will end up with one or both of you dead. It is, to say the least, disconcerting.

Kill switch, the holograph files read. Cross-referential Neil Cicierega acoustic weaponry. Your mind sees the words, but doesn’t comprehend them, and you run a hand up to rub at your bleary eyes with annoyance. You risk a glance upwards; on the bed, Loki scans page after page after page with disinterested nonchalance, punctuating the flipping over of each document with a noncommittal hum; as if to say, I understand you. As it to say, This could be worse. You try to slip into that mindset. Certainly, things could be worse.

Actually, though? Not really.

Because, for all the world, the holo-file in front of you just said ‘Pepe The Frog Chaos Banking Laser Initiative’.

“What the fuck does that even mean?!”

“Sorry?”

You whip your head around. Loki, raising an eyebrow. Damn that - perfect - eyebrow.

“Sorry,” You echo back at him, rubbing your eyes again, perversely glad for the break, even if it is this awkward. “I … said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Marginally,” He tells you. “Yes.”

“Sorry,” You - well, it’s not a whine, not exactly. You’re tired, and there’s no way you’re going to sleep tonight, so you feel like your tone’s justified. “I didn’t mean to do that. I think I’m just - this is. Completely nonsensical.”

“Show me?” He asks, and you snort. He could totally just look up, but -

“Do you have a P.h.d in memes?” You ask him, and, before he can answer, “Because unless you have a P.h.d in memes, I don’t think you’ll be able to help.”

“You’d be surprised,” Loki says. Vaults over the bed with the speed and grace of a panther, filling the air with a cringing wheeze as the rusty springs bend underneath him, and landing in front of the holo-file, pushing you aside slightly to get a better view. When his fingers brush against your side, cool and firm, you flinch.

“Tired,” You offer, when he shoots you a momentarily concerned look. “Just. Need to sleep, later, I think.”

But Loki is already scanning the file, and when he looks up, not five seconds later, you want to hit somebody. Preferably, you think, him.

“I would assume,” Loki says, “That they’re using time travel in order to obtain and store monetary value by way of a Pepe-the-frog inspired laser array.”

“Oh,” You say. You blink once. Blink twice. Still have no idea what that means. “Right.”

“Do you not know your memes, love?” He asks you, smirking. And oh, if you don’t feel things.

“I don’t go on the internet, much,” You tell him. “Too busy, you know, trying not to get killed.”

Loki shrugs. Sidles away from the file. The groan and squeak of those springs tells you he’s back on the bed, giving you some well-needed space, but you can’t bring yourself to look.

“You can sleep,” He says, “If you want.”

“Ha!” You yelp/choke/embarrassingly bleat out into the room’s stale silence. Underneath the rotten eggs, you catch a whiff of bong-water. “No.”

“There’s a bed,” Loki says, cocking his head pointedly and patting the lumpy covers.

“Yeah, that’s - kind of the problem.”

“Why?” He asks you.

“You - really?”

“I was only asking,” Says Loki, re-focusing his attention on whichever Pink Cobra document’s next in the folder. “If you aren’t comfortable telling me - I merely thought, seeing as you were tired, you might take this opportunity to rest.”

“Yeah,” You tell him, “Of course, that’s - nice of you.”

It comes out stilted. Patently off. If he notices, he doesn’t say.

“Are you going to - um. Do you need help, with the rest? The ones I have seem kind of hopeless. I mean,” You say, when he doesn’t look up, “I don’t think that we have to worry about getting demolished by trans-dimensional Agarthian wormholes.”

“Of course not,”” Loki says, scoffing and incredulous, gaze, you are sure, on his page. “If they wanted to kill us, they’d send someone with a gun.”

In reality, it’s several someones.

***

“You jinxed it,” Is the first thing you tell him, when the men leave you. They’ve thrown you into a one-room warehouse, rickety shelves stacked with cartoonish tubs of green goop and mildewing boxes filled with grenades and machine guns and what appears, at second-glance, to be twelve-fingered latex gloves. You’re tied wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and your throat feels uncharacteristically parched. Fear, you tell yourself. Apprehension. “Can’t you just - use your seidr to magic us out of this?”

If you could see him - which you can’t, because you’ve been tied back to back - you’d swear that Loki was glaring.

“Do you - do you have a plan?” You ask, after a moment.

“I’m working on it,” He says.

“That’s all?” You say. “We were dragged out of our drug-dealer’s hotel room by a bunch of robed men with guns and the only thing you have to say is ‘I’m working on it?’”

“I’d get it done faster,” Says Loki, “If you wouldn’t interrupt me.”

“Ok,” You tell him, “No interrupting you. Got it. That’s - Alright.”

Unfortunately, not interrupting him is easier said than done, because without the sound of your voice, you are left to your thoughts.

The men had broken in nearly immediately after Loki’s glib, sardonic retort to your worries, shooting the glass out of the room’s already half-smashed-in window and kicking the door in simultaneously. A bit much, isn’t it?, Loki’d asked, and you had wanted to smack yourself on the forehead. Really not the time, you had hissed, but Loki hadn’t seemed to hear you. Do you do this with everyone they send you to assassinate?, he had asked, instead. The men had been dressed in long, billowing cloaks of bright red, embroidered with orange snakes framing a picture of Beaker from the muppets with early 2000’s emo hair. Chaotic meme agents, you had thought to yourself. So that’s what they’re supposed to look like.

You hadn’t picked up, until now, on the snakes.

“They’re working together,” You say, when you can’t stand the playback of Loki being disarmed after spinning and tossing his silver daggers at the men, of the men kneeing him in the balls and twisting your arms behind your back, holding a gun to your head to stop you from trying to fight. Waking up in the back of a van that smelled like microwaved fish. Being tossed like garbage onto the floor of the warehouse, painted in bruises and cuts from the small pieces of glass that had dug their way into your skin. “The IPP and the Pink Cobra.”

“Obviously,” Loki says. Sharply.

“Did Tony not -“

“Stark,” Loki practically growls, and, ok, you’re not losing it but that did make you jump in your skin, “Is an idiot. He wouldn’t know how to connect the dots if they were presented to him in a Buzzfeed Unsolved episode.”

“That’s - You had that on Asgard?” You ask him, momentarily distracted. You wish that you could see Loki’s face, and are very glad that you can’t.

“That isn’t the point,” Loki says.

“I know,” You tell him. You’re scared that your voice is trembling. Scared that he can tell, even though he’s not facing you, how badly your fingers are shaking. Scared that he knows your worst, biggest secret -

That, despite being an Avenger, you are anxious. That, despite him being Loki, despite him being here, and wonderfully, infuriatingly himself, he cannot help you, this time.

You are going to die, covered in cuts and abrasions, on the floor of a meme network’s headquarters, at three a.m in the morning. They are going to come in with umbrellas that shoot poison darts or the ex-presidents Point Break masks and mow you down, and Loki has no fucking plan. You feel the ropes tighten where they’re knotted, itchy and fierce, and you have to fight to keep yourself from whining in terror and nerves. Whining isn’t what Loki needs right now. Whining’s not going to save you.

What is going to save you, you try and remind yourself, is Loki. If you can shut up. If you can let him decipher what needs to be done. If he can figure out some way to do it before the blowtorch-wielding robed vigilantes or some disincarnate meme god comes back and draws their electronically-sharpened fingernails across your throat hard enough to split skin and sinew, send waves of blood down the front of your shirt like a river of sweet, thick red honey and toss your corpse in a ditch by a highway and -

“Y/N?” It is foggy, barely-heard. Posh. “Y/N!” Louder, this time. There are fingers on your wrist, bent backwards to grip you. Squeezing, insistent and there. “Breathe.”

Fuck, you think. You’d started to hyperventilate. To shake, with a full-body tremor that forecasts a great, unstoppable wave of sobbing panic. And Loki had noticed. “I need you to trust me,” He says. “Trust me to get us out of this. Can you do that for me, darling?”

He has never called you darling before, but God how you’ve wanted him to. You feel like you’re being stabbed in the heart - because there is no way he means it, no way that this is anything other than a desperate and cruel attempt to get you to calm down. Something that belies how obvious you are. How needy you are. How pathetic. And yet -

And yet, he doesn’t say it meanly. He speaks like he cares about you, and in the face of your impending death, you want to think Loki cares. You’d let him say anything, do anything to you, right now. More than that, though, more than any of that - as you think back to meeting him, to your blossoming late-night friendship and twitchy banter and the quiet moments you’ve shared with him in-between battles -

“I trust you, Loki,” You tell him, and feel your breath quiet in you. Feel yourself growing still and calm with the certainty that Loki will do as he’s said.

That you will survive this.

That -

“Good,” Loki says. Not relieved, but determined. Leaving you no room to argue.

“So what do we do?” You ask him.

“Nothing,” Says Loki, and you can hear his wide grin.

“Nothing?” You ask him, gawking.

“Nothing,” Says Loki. He gives your hand a tight squeeze.

And then the Pink Cobra walks in.

***

This will end badly, you think. It’s about the only thing that you can think, preoccupied as you are with -

It might be easier not to -

Fuck.

The thing is - and you really do try not to move, not to groan, not to scream - the thing is, you thought that when Loki said he had a plan, that said plan wouldn’t involve you being collateral damage for a LARP-er who’d most likely broken out of an asylum. I wish that we could be back in that shitty one-bed hotel room, you think to yourself, and - alright, not the best timing, but it rips a laugh out of you, spiraling and unhinged, before you feel the Pink Cobra, resplendent in coral cloak and villainous swagger, slug you one in the jaw. It hurts worse than you’d thought it would - you’ve never really gotten injured on missions, you’re usually good at talking yourself out of things, which is why the Avengers keep you around. You can speak any language, as long as you’ve heard it once, and your customary daily awkwardness can shift into persuasion like flicking a light-switch on.

Usually, though, you had an opportunity to speak, and weren’t rendered speechless by -

Loki, if you’re being honest. How much you want to kiss him. How much of an asshole he is. Trust me, he’d asked you. Can you do that for me? The Pink Cobra’s grip is sharp and bruising on your side; he’s slipped his fingers up your shirt and is pressing the point on your side that threatens to make your knees buckle, making bile rise up in your throat, driving you wild with the aching need to flee. He has one hand clasped over your mouth, now that you’ve quieted, and you can feel something - pain, and a pill - pressed snugly into his palm. He will force it down you, you know, if Loki so much as sighs wrong.

You’ll never trust him again.

You wish that you knew what the time was. If you end up dying at 4:20, you’re going to throw fists with somebody in hell.

You wish, also, for aspirin. Avengers training has left you woefully unprepared for the reality of getting punched in the face. You can already feel your jaw starting to swell, taste an egregious amount of blood. You’re pretty sure that the force of the blow knocked a tooth out.

What strikes fear into you, though - a fear somehow deeper than the absolutely bone-chilling, blood-curdling knowledge of what the Pink Cobra might do to you - is the look you’d seen on Loki’s face in the seconds after he’d grabbed you, before it fell into practiced, amused apathy. He’d gone white, and his eyes had blown wide. His fingers had spasmed with anger.

He’d looked as scared as you feel.

And you have no idea why.

It isn’t like you’re anyone special. Not any more than the rest of the team. Less so than most of them. You aren’t a god, like Loki and Thor are. You don’t have stealth-assassin training, like Bucky, or super-strength like Steve. You can’t seamlessly pilot mechanical suits over the New York skyline like Tony, or use a crossbow like Clint, or beat thirty people in single-hand combat like Nat, or change into a nitro-fueled rage machine like Bruce.

You can’t do anything, much.

Except, apparently, die.

You squeeze your eyes shut, not letting yourself look at him. You won’t let Loki’s disinterested face be the last thing that you see. It makes the Pink Cobra’s words all the worse, when he speaks. His voice is dark and sick and timbered, and you feel maggots crawling over your skin as he slots you closer to his body, tightening his already painful grip on you so that you can’t move even an inch away from his tensed, coiled muscles.

“So,” He says, “You are superheroes? How long did it take me, to apprehend you? Ah - three and a half hours? Tell your boss-man, do better next time.”

“I’ll pass it along,” Loki says. His voice sounds different. You can’t place why. Still won’t look.

“You won’t,” The Pink Cobra says. You can feel his shoulders rise, then fall. Feel him smirk. You love Loki’s smirk - secretly delight in drawing it from him, sometimes - but the Pink Cobra’s only fills you with yet more terror. You’ve pursed your lips tightly shut against the intrusion of his hand, but when Loki speaks he forces your bruised, bleeding jaw open and shoves the pill into your mouth. The pain of your injury tears through you like white lightning and you thrash, trying to escape. A keening sound claws its way out of you, fevered and anguished, and you feel your hands, still bound up in ropes, trying in vain to push off and away. The man behind you sighs, and then aims a swift kick at the back of your knees, which sends you down before you can so much as yelp. Your knees hit the floor, and he’s holding you by your hair now, twisting it so hard that you’re almost sure he’ll scalp you. He’s pulled something - too big to be be a knife, some kind of shortsword?! - Out from beneath his cloak, and is pressing it up against the column of your throat. You feel the weight of the capsule between your teeth heavily now, and realize what it means in the split-second before the Pink Cobra bends and whispers, Your choice; stale and rancid into the shell of your ear.

Next, he addresses Loki.

“You’ll be wanting to know what our plan is,” He says. Our, you think. We were right. “Hmm? I know how you people are. Always wanting to know. Tell me this, Mischief Man. What will I get, if I tell you? What price are you willing to pay?”

You know what this is. You know it like the ache in your heart when Loki brushes you off. Like the safety you feel in his arms. You open your eyes. Take in Loki’s face - he’s trying to hide, but you know, you know how he feels. You know what he’s going to choose.

And you know that you can’t let him choose it.

“You’ll let her go,” Loki asks, “If we let you leave here?”

“The thing could be managed.”

No, you think. No, Loki, don’t! Whatever the Pink Cobra’s going to do, whatever the IPP’s planning, knowing’s worth more than your life.

“One thing I want to know,” Loki says. He’s twirling a knife of his own, a slim silver number he keeps on him at all times, and you feel the blade on your own throat start to dig in - not enough to draw blood, but enough for you to feel it. The threat of it. The promise of it, and the coldness of the gleaming metal. “You and the IPP? How does it fit?”

“You want information from me?” The Pink Cobra asks. Lets his blade bite you, just barely, and the strength it takes for you not to scream is more strength then you’d known you possess.

“Yes,” Says Loki. “It’s not like I’m asking for much.”

He meets your gaze. You meet his. You hope that he cannot read it. His eyes are so worried, so desperate, you nearly break down.

“I suppose,” The Pink Cobra says, “That you’ve earned it. Getting here - getting this far - it must have been no easy task. Fine. There is no Imminently Predictable Psyops organization. They were a - what do you call it? Red herring? A scent of blood for the shark.”

“You fabricated them,” Loki says. “Why would you fabricate them?”

He is losing his composure, you can tell. You will never be ready for this. He will never be ready for this. You hope that he will forgive you, and you know that he never will, and you swallow the pill in your mouth.

“Because it was fun,” The Pink Cobra says.

And then your body knows pain.

***

“He didn’t think I would do it,” You say. Your mouth feels thick, clotted with blood and shock, and your body is one raw, gaping wound, but the giddy feeling of victory has begun to course through your veins. Pure, unfiltered adrenaline. You had waited for the moment of death to come, and it hadn’t. The pill is fake, your mind had screamed. But there’d been one thing left, that might work. You had breathed as slowly as you possibly could, forced every muscle of your scared, writhing body into single-minded limpness, rolled your eyes backwards into your head, drew one last breath in, and fallen. Twitched, for a few seconds, like a rag-doll. Then made yourself still.

Loki had slit the Pink Cobra ear to ear, beaten him within an inch of his life as he bled out, screaming like a man deranged. He’d left him a wet, bloody mess on the floor, and the blood had run down the not-quite-steady plane of it, pooling around you and mixing with the blood from your jaw, from the evening’s earlier glass cuts, from the deep, burning stab wound the Cobra had got on your arm.

You breathe, and your body knows pain.

You look at Loki, and your body knows pain.

He is shaking. Visibly shaking. His hands are clenched into fists at his side, and he looks as pale as bleached bones. His eyes are shot red - he had sobbed, when you fell, and a howl had torn through his body. You don’t know what to do, what it means, what the hell even to say to him. His cheeks are tear-stained, his breaths ragged.

You blink, and your body feels pain.

“We won,” You croak out. “Loki, we won.” It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever felt in your life. “I think he broke one of my ribs.”

You don’t mean to say that last part, but you do, and you are the one crying now, because it feels like he probably has, and you can barely even stay awake through this pain. It feels like the Hulk is pulling you limb from limb. Like all of those nightmares you’ve had where Loki decided to leave you - to go back to Asgard, and never speak to you again.

Stupid, you think. He won’t, again. Not after this.

Loki still hasn’t spoken. He’s looking at you, and his eyes are wild. Desperately, jaggedly roaming your body. His fists twitch with every new part of your body they land on.

“That bad, huh - Oh, fuck.”

And just like that, the tension leaves Loki’s body. The dam that had held him firmly in place is broken, and he’s running towards you with none of his usual grace. Dropping down by your side. He hoists you, and you hiss, and the tears won’t stop coming, so you bury your face in his shirt, nose pressed at the crisply ironed collar. Don’t care that it’s bleeding, because Loki’s here now. Holding you. Keeping you real. He’s got one hand stroking your hair and his touch feels right, nothing like the Pink Cobra’s, and he’s whispering: You brave, precious, idiot, how dare you, how dare you throw your life away like that?!

“It worked,” You exhale - it’s the most you can manage. You would laugh, if it wouldn’t shred you to pieces. Loki cradles you fiercely, hands grasping at the sweat-and-blood soaked fabric of your shirt, running over you as if he doesn’t believe you’re alive. “It - hurts,” You get out. Barely. “Loki, it - I can’t -“

“Don’t,” He tells you. His voice has gone brittle, choked with thorns. “Don’t talk. Don’t - Don’t ever do that again. Do you hear me? You will never do that again.”

If I need to, I will, you think. And you wonder if that’s why you’re here. Wonder if that’s why you’re strong. You wonder, and hurt, and believe. Feel the strength of him, clutching you like you’re the only thing in the world, taking in greedy lungfuls of your weeping, your need for his touch.

You can’t talk, anymore. It hurts too badly. But you surge, upwards, up into where he’s holding the back of your head, pressing your forehead into the dark, warm space under his jaw that smells like smoke and peppermint. Loki is taller than you are - you fit right into the curve of his neck, and his long curls curtain you in a bubble of warmth and content.

“Promise,” You say, but it comes out unintelligible, and Loki’s hands are running, so gently, over your skin.

“What was your plan?” You ask him, forcing it out of your body.

“Hush,” Loki says, “Later.”

There might not be any later, you think. Not like this.

***

In the hotel room, an ocean of scattered pages and ceiling mold and blessed privacy, you balance, cross-legged, on the bed. The wind blows wet and cold from an earlier rain through the busted out window. You have managed this out of sheer stubborn-ness, because it is the most that Loki allowed you to do. You’d passed out, twice, on the journey back - he had magicked you there, though it had taken a considerable amount of effort that you weren’t sure you really deserved - and had immediately propped you up on the pillows and stooped to ruffle through his suitcase, emerging not long after with binding tape, cat-gut thread, and a needle so sharp you could feel it slicing your flesh. You had opened your mouth to protest, but Loki had silenced you with a glare that could fell Director Fury. So you had gone quiet, and caved, letting him kneel over you on the distinctly lumpy mattress and begin inspecting your wounds. It had taken a few tries and a Please to convince him to let you sit on your own, and it hurt much more than the manner in which he’d arranged you. You were starting to, slightly, regret it.

“You don’t have to do this,” You say, pulling it from bleeding lips. He shushes you with a harsh, stern tut. “You’re not my mother,” You tell him.

“You could have died,” Loki says. There’s a snarling undercurrent to it that you can’t even start dissecting. “What were you thinking?” He asks. It is easier, though still painful, for you to answer him - he had used nearly half of his Thor-limited magic reserve to perform a basic stasis spell on your injuries, but the spell wouldn’t last forever. You’ll need stitches, he’d said, choking it out like he was the hurt one when he’d seen the number the Cobra’s blade had done to your arm.

“I’ve had worse,” You say, grinning weakly.

“Are you lying to me?” He asks you, with the tone of someone who’s distinctly not in the mood for joking.

“I thought,” You say. Steel yourself. “I thought you weren’t going to do what needed to be done. So I - Did it myself.”

“What needed to be done.” Loki says, enunciating every word.

“We couldn’t let him walk away,” You say, meeting his eyes. Emerald, clouded with fury. You don’t let yourself flinch from that anger. You don’t let yourself run from your choice. “You know what he would have done.”

“I don’t,” Loki says. “I know nothing. I know - I know that you think that your life means so little I wouldn’t care if you were gone. That I could - Live, without you.”

That’s… different.

“And I know,” Loki continues, “That I told you to trust me, and I meant it.”

“I do,” You say. There is no hesitation. “I trust you - Loki. Of course I trust you. It’s not - it wasn’t -“

“Stop talking,” He snaps. Gentles, when you jerk your head away, blink back a fresh wave of tears. “You need rest,” He says. “And - This is. This is going to hurt.”

You nod.

“Best get it over with, then.”

“You should keep your eyes closed,” He says.

“No! I want - I need to look.” You bring your eyes up to your arm, which he’s settled onto bed’s chewed, scratchy quilt without you realizing, but Loki tilts your head up with a barely-there graze of his fingers, achingly gentle to avoid aggravating your swollen jaw. He holds your gaze for a long time. Doesn’t look mad, anymore.

“Are you sure?” He asks you. Like all of this could be over with, if you wanted.

“How bad it could it be?” You ask back.

The injury is horrendous. You’d thought - honest-to-God, you’d thought the pain was terrible, but you weren’t ready for what your arm has become. The line of the wound runs in a craggy jigsaw from just under your shoulder to the tip of your elbow. Small wonder you can’t move it, can barely think through it at all.

“Y/N?” Loki asks, “Are you -“

“Fine,” You say. Blink, and your body knows pain. Try not to let how scared you are show, when you look back up at Loki. The Pink Cobra’s dead. You shouldn’t be scared, anymore. “It’s really bad, isn’t it?”

Loki sighs. Long and low and sad.

“Will I have to - “

“Bite,” Loki says, and shoves something - the sleeve of his shirt, crusted in blood which you realize, sickeningly, is yours - into your mouth. “It’ll help.”

It doesn’t, but he holds your hand through it, hushing you through the pain with furrowed eyebrows, thread and needle flying deftly through skin, air, skin again. His fingers move precisely, deliberate, quick, and when, on one stitch, you audibly whimper, he pauses to lean down and press a soft, utterly unexpected kiss to your hairline. You are unable to fully express how much it means to you, so you do the next best thing and kiss him yourself, pressing him back once he’s finished the last of his stitches and breathing all the the words you can’t say into him. You press every fear and gratitude and lingering nerve into the warmth of his lips, wending your fingers through his dark hair despite the pangs of agony still thrumming through every inch of your body. Your face hurts, but the kiss is all you’ve ever needed and more, and Loki is so, so gentle with you, pulling away with creased eyebrows and a look of genuine concern.

“I wanted to,” You tell him, mustering all of your strength. “It didn’t hurt.”

“Stop,” He tells you, voice cracking, “Stop lying.”

“I’m not,” You say. “I wanted to, Loki, I did.”

“And you wanted to -“

“No.” You are vehement about it, for a broken-ribbed, broken-jawed, freshly-stitched person coming off the high of his teeth and his tongue. “Not that, I swear, never that.”

“Why did you do it, then?” Loki asks. He has steepled his fingers under his chin, and his narrowed eyes pierce through you to the soul. You couldn’t lie to this man, you think, if your life depended on it.

You know that you have to tell him, this time. Really tell him. You don’t.

“”Why didn’t you use your magic?”

“You know why,” He says, and you do. You’d remembered it as the white pill turned to white powder in your gums, as the Pink Cobra’s knife had carved its way into your flesh. Thor had put a set limit on it, as condition of Loki’s release - Proof, he had said, We can trust you. Loki had thought to save it for later, that you wouldn’t need him right then. He had thought you’d talk them out, to safety.

You’d failed him.

“You didn’t,” He tells you, voice raw. He goes to grip your chin, to force you to listen to him, but with a glance and ill-concealed wince at your purpled jaw he thinks better of it. “You think that you failed me? You let yourself be - be beaten and stabbed - just so people you’ve never met in your life wouldn’t die, and you call that a failure?” He runs a hand through his hair. Bites back a snarl. Drops your arm. “I need you to listen to me,” Loki says, “Very, very carefully. You’re going to tell me why now, love. And then we’re going to fix it.”

You raise an eyebrow. Worse than he does, you’re aware.

“Sleep,” He amends, with a pointed look at the bed underneath you, “And then we’re going to fix it.”

“There’s only one bed,” You tell him, “And I feel like I just got run over by a truck.”

Loki huffs, a puff of warm air that you feel, from how close he still is. A grin twitches at the edge of his lips. It sets off sparks inside you.

“I thought -“ You say. Shake your head, and restart. “You would have let the Pink Cobra attack. You would have let him just walk away, and I couldn’t just - let that happen.”

“Enlightening.”

“No,” You tell him, “I mean it. I couldn’t - I’m not - I’m not worth more than anyone else. We’re the Avengers. It’s our job to save people, Loki.”

He’s regarding you carefully, eyes still narrowed, all vestiges of softness gone from his face. When he opens his mouth, it’s to close it. Form thoughts. Discard them. Exhale.

“My mother once told me,” He finally says, “That I would never know what it meant to be human until I found the person who made me want to bleed the world dry. Take all of its’ suffering, all of its’ cruelty, and leech it out of the very fabric of time, just to keep that person from anguish, from harm.”

“I don’t -“

He holds a hand up. You still.

“She never said they would infuriate me,” Loki says. “She never said they would make me laugh, or smile, or question my sanity on a regular basis. She never said that they’d try and get themselves killed, and that I’d have to watch, and that I would feel like my heart was being ripped from my body and torn to a bloody pulp; that I would make the sky rain blood and fire at the sight of it alone. But she was right about one thing - Many things, but also this. She told me that it wouldn’t matter. That I would - love you - anyway.”

“You don’t,” You say, not daring to hope. It’s an automatic retort.

“Foolish girl,” Loki chides, and you blink back fresh, stinging tears. How long have you wanted to hear Loki say that to you? How many sneaky looks have you stolen in the heat of your missions, just to see his smart mind and tricky magic at work? How many nights have you sat up together, sequestered from your insomnia in a bubble of hard-earned banter and peppermint tea, fighting the tight, coiling urge to push aside your steaming mugs and pull him into your needing?

He could not - he can’t - feel the same.

“Loki,” You say, stumbling over the words, “You can’t - This is - This is me we’re talking about.”

“Is there anyone else here,” Loki asks you, “That I could be talking about?” He seems nonchalant, now, as if this - this cruel fucking joke, when you already feel you’re on fire - is merely a fact of his life. “We’re going to leave this excuse of a town, and get you - proper care. Fix it. Because I will not, on my honor, watch you suffer in pain. But first, you’re going to sleep.”

“There’s only one bed,” You tell him, and feel your resolve as it shatters. You cling to the statement like it’s the last remnant of the girl you were and the woman that you’ll never be, “And the shower doesn’t work. And I’m covered in blood.”

But when you look at Loki, his eyes twinkle, mischievous.

“Will you stay with me?,” You ask him, biting your lip.

“You astound me,” He tells you, and rolls his eyes, and it feels - it feels normal. Good. A tender heat unfurls in your heart like orchid petals in the sun, numbing the persistent ache in your ribcage. “To even think that I would do anything else.”

Later, you will ask him why. Why do you love me?, you will ask, and Loki will hum, low in his throat, curled around you just like this first night; your back pressed into his chest, your legs tangled up hopelessly, his fingers tracing nonsense patterns onto your spine in the dawn-light’s syrupy gold. Because, he will tell you, trailing a line of soft kisses up the scar on your arm - an ugly thing, but it functions, mostly, and only ever seems to hurt on the days when he isn’t there - I was given no choice.

But if you’d had one?”, You will ask, and spin around, propping yourself on your elbow.

You tempt me, He’ll tell you, baring his sharp teeth. Shouldn’t you know better than that?

You will lie there, next to each other, not needing a single word. Because you will know. Because he will have told you, a thousand times, a thousand ways, exactly how he feels about you.

Tonight, though, isn’t that night. It takes a moment to get settled in his hold, and the rain spits and drums against what glass remains in your window, slicking the carpet with dark, greasy splotches. It figures, you think, that even the rain in this city has the smell and the texture of oil. You feel like a bag of bones, stretched too thin. But safe, in his arms, in a way that you’ve never felt, before now. Loki is with you, you realize. Wrapped around you like a traveler’s cloak, the comforting weight of a slim, balanced blade at your side in a fight. He is cool, around your afraid. Warm, where his clever fingers whine and needle their way through your skin to your heart.

“I hate you,” You tell him, “You know that?”

Loki laughs, a deep, rumbling purr.

“Go to sleep.”

#picture1000wordswc #pic 4 #loki/reader #female reader #crack #so much crack #just a lot of references to bad memes and cringe movies that turns into all the angst #because for some reason i’m like this #guess which character from another popular franchise i based my crack villain off #soundtrack to this was 800 percent mouth moods #in all seriousness though huge congrats to @startrekkingaroundasgard #you deserve all the love #unfortunately i showed my love by writing insane crack fic but HEY #loki is in it so hopefully that makes up for the c r i n g e

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Fault”

Hello, everyone! We’re not even bothering with an introduction today, let’s just get straight to the only thing that matters.

HERE HE IS, THE MVP OF THIS EPISODE, OF THE WHOLE VOLUME, THE SERIES, THE ONLY ONE I CARE ABOUT RIGHT NOW

I’m joking… but only a little. In all seriousness we will get to Ren, but you all want to hear a funny story first? I somehow got it into my head that there was no RWBY episode this week—the holiday and all—so I poured all my meta time and energy into a ridiculous Ironwood analysis as a placeholder, only to wake up this morning and find the strongest (and most complicated!) episode this year waiting for a recap. Like some sort of grimm nosing into my inbox.

Okay, so it’s not a funny story, but if RT would just do a better job with their website my life would be a whole lot easier.

So here we are, taking a look at the episode “Fault.” Quick question, is every episode this volume going to have a one-word title? It’s not a criticism, I’ve got nothing against a punchy name, I’m just curious since RWBY has never done that before. If anything, they’ve gone more for symbolically significant phrases like “A Brawl in the Family,” “Players and Pieces,” and “The Lady in the Shoe.” I wonder what sparked the change.

Anyway, we open on Robyn laughing about some story she’s told, something about Joanna losing a fair fight for the first time, presumably to her. This is what we’ve learned about Robyn since this volume started: she refuses to acknowledge that she had a hand in Clover’s death; she was asked by Blake and Yang to keep the Amity secret but, according to May, couldn’t keep her mouth shut about it; and she tries to cheer Qrow up by bragging about her own skill.

Alrighty then.

Obviously, this little story fails to land. “Tough crowd tonight.” Robyn looks to Jacques as well as Qrow when she says this and since she clearly doesn’t care about cheering him up, she must want to get a rise out of him. Create something, as she says at the end of the scene, that’s exciting. Robyn just really loves to start fights. Against Ironwood, Clover, bickering matches with Jacques—stories told about winning them! If she’s not fighting someone she’s not interested.

Qrow does eventually give the smallest smile though and Robyn cheers. “Did I win?” They both quickly grow serious again though and Robyn says she’s “sorry for what happened. It wasn’t your fault.” Her apology would mean more if she was apologizing for her actions, not providing a generic ‘Sorry for your loss’ like she had no hand in this.

Qrow then insists it was his fault… but, of course, not for the reasons why he’s actually responsible (also, didn’t we do this two weeks ago?). For starters, Qrow blames his semblance for everything that went down, despite the fact that his semblance is not responsible for him breaking Clover’s aura, or Tyrian stabbing him. The most we’ve seen his semblance do is cause minor mischief, which in and of itself is absurd considering we’re meant to believe that it has kept him from his family most of his life, and informs choices like whether he’ll travel with the group in Volume 4. Still, it’s not unexpected that he would blame his semblance and think that having friends is a “childish dream”—depression is one hell of a liar—but rather, it’s frustrating that no one is helping Qrow see the truth of the situation, both the good and the bad. He certainly doesn’t need Robyn providing generic platitudes that absolve them both of their choices.

You know what the worst part is? The two kind, level-headed adults with enough distance to help Qrow acknowledge his mistakes while also correcting him about his misconceptions… are Ozpin and Clover. The former is still ignored by the cast, the latter barely got to be a character before he was killed.

Qrow goes on to say that he “made a deal with the darkness and [Clover] paid the price.” I’m sorry, what does that mean?? Outside of referencing his team-up with Tyrian, that’s the most dramatic, nonsensical thing he could have said. Qrow doesn’t admit to the team-up though, rather he starts blaming Clover for his own death.

Precisely like a good chunk of the fandom has done 🙃

He says that Clover just “wouldn’t let up” (translation: he wouldn’t agree to let me go when I was under arrest) and that they could have “worked together against Tyrian if Clover had just—”

There’s a lot to cover this episode, so I’m not going to dive into another explanation of all the justified reasons why Clover didn’t trust Qrow in that moment and why Qrow was the one who “wouldn’t let up.” If you’re interested in that rundown, head here.

Side note: can RWBY please stop with the weird mouth closeups? I’m begging the animators. Especially when so much else in this episode is gorgeous.

Yes:

No:

Robyn’s response is to make it all about her. I say, as a hypocrite, because my instinctual response in comforting someone is to also bring up a way that I might, sort of, know what they’re going through. It’s something to work on and, as always, I’d be more receptive to Robyn’s attempts if she weren’t failing so spectacularly in every other aspect of her characterization. Case in point: she says that having a truth semblance tends to make people push her away, but we’ve never once seen that. We’re introduced to Robyn as she’s adored by Fiona. The people celebrate her. Yang and Blake trust her immediately, for no reason, and comment on how useful her semblance is—they’re not concerned with it. Ironwood likewise works with her and allows her to use her semblance on him in public, at least for a time. May spoke fondly of Robyn last episode. She just finished a story about Joanna… where is this pushing away you speak of, Robyn? I really wish RWBY would consider things ahead of time and actually show them to us, rather than just having characters announce that they’re (supposedly) there.

Nice symbolism though with Robyn touching the electric bars and pulling her hand back. You reach out, you get hurt, curl in on yourself, blah, blah, blah. Too bad it’s not a moment attached to an actual struggle of hers.

Qrow buys it though, saying he’s never thought about it that way before.

You know, I get why a lot of people in the fandom hate Clover. I can’t even claim I’m much interested in him as an individual. I’m sick of straight, white, able-bodied men getting the spotlight, which is one of the things that drew me to RWBY in the first place… so theoretically Robyn should be the better choice for Qrow’s BFF, right? Especially in a world where FairGame only existed in RT’s social media queerbaiting. Give us the badass gender-bent Robin Hood instead of the boring military man!

On paper it sounds great… which is why it’s astounding that RT bungled that so badly.

Qrow never finishes his thought about Clover because the Ace Ops come in to return Watts to his cell. Interesting. The writing has definitely made Ironwood stupid, but perhaps not as stupid as he could have been? If he got Watts to hack Penny (we don’t yet know what’s going on with her during all this) and then promptly shut him away again, that’s just about the best way you can follow up on your worst decision.

Harriet spots Clover’s pin and tells Qrow “You don’t get to keep that,” but then doesn’t take it from him. See, that right there is a better motivation for potentially opening the cell. Qrow says he didn’t kill Clover, Harriet shoots back that his blood was on Qrow’s blade (again, focusing on the wrong way that he’s guilty), Robyn challenges her to get the truth via her semblance… and Harriet considers it? Why? She’s not the one struggling with her loyalty here, that’s Marrow, yet he’s the one who has to pull Harriet back with “What are you doing?” when she looks at the keypad. Have Marrow almost be swayed by Robyn’s taunting, or have Harriet almost open the door because she’s furious and desperate to get Clover’s pin back. Either one of those would make more sense than this.

Also, no one checked Qrow during his arrest/before he was thrown into his cell?

Also, note that Marrow uses a nickname here—“Hare”—so I’m continually unpersuaded by the ‘They’re not friends’ claim. Yes, Harriet hits his shoulder on her way out… and Ren will later scream at Jaune about cheating. Harriet being in a bad mood because their leader was just murdered isn’t evidence that they’re not close, no more than Ren responding to Everything Traumatic Ever is evidence that he doesn’t care for his friends.

Also (x3), Robyn calls Harriet “mohawk”?? Can’t this woman come up with a single good insult?

As the Ace Ops leave Robyn lays back down on her bunk, exactly as she was before, and says, “Well, that was almost exciting.” Kind of like this scene! Luckily, the episode is about to get a whole lot better.

The music immediately picks up as we segue to Ren, Jaune, and Yang chasing after Oscar. On the whole I really enjoyed this scene, largely because it shows the group doing their best—in a way that feels persuasive. I’ll admit that others have a point about them just standing around while the Hound changes form—yet still failing because, you know, our villain is actually powerful! However, there are, as always, some nitpicks.

One of the first bits of dialogue we get is Ren noticing that the bikes can’t stand being in the cold for very long. It bugs me that bikes suffer more from the cold than the civilians do. To say nothing of the fact that it once again doesn’t amount to anything. Their bikes carry them through the whole battle and Jaune looses his because of a grimm. Then Yang manages to fix the totaled bike with a single part, despite the continued cold. Why bother introducing this as a problem when it’s meaningless each and every time?

The three do demonstrate some great teamwork though. When Yang yells that she wishes one of them could fly, Jaune uses his shield to launch Ren at the Hound… so that he can get dragged through the air, hitting rocks. This poor guy. I like that though because no, these teens shouldn’t be perfect, strategic masterminds and yes, they’re in the kind of situation where they just have to try something and see if it works. Jaune can’t think ahead to what Ren will do once he grabs the Hound, they just have to get him to that point and go from there. Which they do. Ren snags a boulder to slow them down further (that’s smart) and Yang goes higher to fire at the Hound’s face (don’t hit Oscar he doesn’t have aura!!). They’re at a crazy disadvantage here and still trying their best to get our boy back.

The overall tone is… fine? Again, love supportive Yang—that high five with Jaune was wholesome—but it continually feels weird to get that when Oscar is in the literal jaws of death here. On the whole though the scene keeps to the action and seriousness of the situation, which I appreciate. We’ll talk more about tone during the outpost scene.

It's looking like they might be making some sort of headway when the Hound lets out a roar that, as Yang puts it, calls for backup. 1. Yay giving this grimm even more power to mess with the cast, 2. Holy shit there are so many grimm around. See, scenes like this is why I’m side-eyeing the anti-army rhetoric in the show (a stance I’d otherwise agree with 100%). Because do you see how many there are? That’s not Salem’s army, that’s just the normal grimm hanging out around Atlas. The cast is screwed if anyone were to, say, order them to attack the kingdom…

Kudos to RT for bringing back the centipede grimm though. I honestly thought they’d just be a one-off action sequence in Volume 7.

While everything is falling apart Ren catches a glimpse of Oscar, complete with rosy cheeks to make him look super young, and the sight fills him with

He starts climbing towards the Hound and we cut away.

Meanwhile, Jaune’s bike is hit with some of the centinel’s acid (again, not the cold causing problems) and he takes a tumble, managing to keep his feet before Yang snags him. Moments like that really do show how far he’s come and I’m glad we got to see such a moment in an episode where his cheating was brought up. Jaune then uses his shield to fly over one of the dragon-y grim, but... wait. The shield is flexible?

Literally what is the point of that? As a shield, I mean (it clearly works fine as a ramp). If you can just tip it over like that then so can the grimm or another fighter. Forget how tiny the shield is, all a monster would have to do is boop it and it would fall over. In fact, it probably should have with the grimm scratching at it before. Seems rather useless, unless you’ve got writers crafting convenient situations. Also, does Jaune have multiples of this thing? He picked it up before, but there’s no way he found that one again. Idk, I’m really not feeling this addition to Jaune’s arsenal. Better to give him a range option so he’s more versatile.

Still, they fly over the grimm and the two let out a sigh in synch. Whatever else we might have to say about this volume, RT is definitely giving us different interactions and team-ups. Well done there. Why, Jaune and Yang have managed to survive all that together!

Oh wait, never mind. They’ve gone off a cliff.

Honestly, I’m shocked they actually went over. I thought Yang would stop in time, or we’d have a classic moment of them tumbling off the bike and ending an inch from the edge, maybe going off slow with time for one to hang on. But nope, they plummet and it was done with such confidence by the camera that for a split second (the illogic of killing them both off aside) I thought that was it. They’re done for. Lucky for them, Ren catches them at the last second, managing to snag Jaune’s sword and them and immediately use his semblance so the grimm doesn’t eat them. That’s skill, baby!!

But you can see why he’s pissed, beyond just the fact that his semblance is holding this group together. It’s not Jaune and Yang’s fault that there was suddenly a cliff, but last we saw Ren he was heading towards Oscar. He had a plan. Granted, not one that was likely to lead anywhere given the Hound’s power (and the plot needing Oscar to reach Salem), but that’s not the point. He was pulling himself towards their kidnapped friend and then at the last second had to cut himself loose to save two others. This moment wasn’t anyone’s fault, but it would take someone with no emotions at all not to be frustrated by it.

So we leave the trio literally hanging out and return to Ruby’s group who is threatening kids!

Seriously though WTF, Weiss? Look, I haven’t always been kind to Whitley. In fact, I think there’s a Volume 7 recap where I really laid into him for his attitude and for supporting Jacques. But then—with the help of some friends and other anon perspectives—I thought about it for a hot second and considered how little power this child has. I was wrong to blame him for so much given the various circumstances here. It took, like… five minutes of thinking, and that’s for a fictional character, not a real life brother. Weiss clearly hasn’t given her brother five seconds of thought. He’s in the same abusive household that she was. He wasn’t blessed with combat abilities and a semblance to easily escape. He didn’t have Weiss there to guide him like Winter guided her. He had to watch BOTH his sisters abandon him to Jacques… so when exactly was he supposed to learn to be better? Why would he be inclined to? Weiss was an entitled racist when she got to school and needed new friends to show her a new path. She admitted as much last volume! Yet the fact that Whitley is completely alone in this house while their mom locks herself in her room to drink doesn’t register at all? This woman, an adult out to save the world as we’re frequently told, never once considered what it took to get her here and realize that Whitley has had none of the resources she did?

I want to emphasize that Weiss threatens him with her weapon. It’s not just that she’s dismissive of him and his plight, she’s also happy to use violence if Whitley doesn’t do exactly as he’s told. Violence… against her brother… who is a child… without any training. Again: WTF, Weiss? You know how I was praising RWBY last episode for not having the group beat up the Atlas personnel? Yeah, we get this instead.

Then she tells him to go to his room??

Speculation is that Whitley is about 2-3 years younger than Weiss. Or, to put it another way, roughly the same age as Weiss’ leader, Ruby. She’ll follow Ruby unquestioningly into world-changing decisions, but sends her brother to his room like a toddler? Which is it, RWBY? Are 17 year-olds leaders you should listen to, or babies who must leave the room while the grownups talk? He certainly can’t be any younger than Oscar, so again, she’ll fight beside him, but treat Whitley like this? Whitley isn’t exactly going to offer help in a respectful, eager manner, but that “Fine. What do you expect me to do?” was incredibly open given his situation. He was willing to help and that was the perfect opportunity to have him, you know, do something. Something small and innocuous that wouldn’t threaten the team if he betrayed them, but kept him around so he could talk to someone. But nope. Weiss just sends him to his room after criticizing him for not understanding that they’re “busy trying to save Atlas.” Weiss, what does Whitley know about all that? He’s locked up in this manor after your father was arrested and the one news clip we’ve seen said that no one knows why Ironwood recalled his forces, or what’s up with those grimm overhead. She’s acting like he should have any idea what’s happening right now.

Also, all of this is coming on the heels of Willow begging Weiss not to forget her brother, so that’s just great. RWBY has the rest of their time in the manor to fix this, because if Weiss comes out of that scene having only been handed the means of arresting Jacques… that’s just bad all around.

Finally, should we talk about how strange this choice is? Last episode we saw the group flying away and I assumed it was them leaving Atlas to go back to Mantle. It certainly looked that way, but now they’ve decided to stay until Nora is awake. Why? Isn’t it more dangerous here? I mean, they didn’t know the staff was gone and there are still arrest warrants out. Was Weiss just going to threaten anyone who dared report her? Where are these shields Ironwood spoke of? Have they gotten through them somehow, or are they currently trapped in Atlas?

This is “Oscar is in the slums, leaves the slums, learns they’re going to the crater, but the slums are actually the crater, so we’re heading back now” all over again.

The one good thing about this scene is that Blake and Ruby talk! …for about two seconds lol. Eh, better than nothing. Blake says that if Ruby is worried about Yang she could try calling her. Ruby has, and Yang isn’t picking up.

Does Ruby think she’s in danger or ignoring her? Unclear. We, however, know that Yang is now lost in the middle of nowhere with no reception and no transportation back to Mantle. The three of them start trudging towards an outpost Ren spotted, needing to find shelter “before this weather drops our aura levels completely.” So what about everyone without aura?? I wish that I could check off the bingo space again because this is ridiculous.

Ren, once again, isn’t in the mood to talk, but unlike Jaune, Yang can’t leave something alone. So she coaxes him to tell him what’s wrong and you know what? She does a real good job at first. She’s encouraging, but her voice is level and she doesn’t come across as accusing. Well done, Yang.

Things quickly fall apart though as Ren says EVERYTHING I’VE EVER WANTED TO SAY TO THIS GROUP. Holy shit, everyone, let’s count ‘em up:

Nothing is going smoothly so let’s stop pretending it’s all fine

Oscar has been horrifically kidnapped that’s #bad

This is not a normal part of being a huntsmen

We don’t know the first thing about being huntsmen!

Every time we’ve had to make real decisions we got them all wrong, yay us

We’re trapping a city here for Salem to destroy whenever she feels like it, yay us x2

Our leader is barely more than a kid and one of us cheated our way here

People are going to die because of us

“I’m just saying what nobody else wants to”

Yang’s response? Incredibly weak imo. Just as weak as the fandom’s has been since this conflict started in Volume 7. Her argument against letting Atlas go is that Salem won’t just let it fly away with her whale… but no one knows that. She’s certainly just letting it sit right now! Assuming that something won’t work because you expect the worst is not a compelling reason not to try.

Her argument against their ineptitude? They saved Haven, took down a leviathan, and got the lamp to Atlas. Let’s break that down a little more.

Did they fight well at Haven? Yes… overlooking that Weiss would have died if not for a timely semblance reveal. But the real point here is that they “saved” the school by getting the Relic. Problem is, they never won the relic, it was handed to them. Literally. They retrieved it not because they were capable of overpowering Salem’s forces and a Maiden, but because Raven decided she’d rather her daughter be a target than her. That doesn’t tell us anything about the group’s skill, only about Raven’s flaws.

They took down a leviathan… after drawing it to Argus in the first place. That’s kind of an important detail when Ren is trying to make the point that their decisions suck. Also, how did they take it down? Using Ruby’s silver eyes, which only worked because Jinn randomly decided to let her stop time. Oh, and also using the rest of Cordovin’s mech that they hadn’t yet destroyed. Again, nothing about that fight demonstrates their skill, only others’ abilities, resources, and the strange favoritism they benefit from.

Getting the lamp to Atlas. Well, you drove Ozpin away who was your ticket across the border. Then Maria told Ruby how to save you all from the Apathy (and Ruby herself was the only one able to resist long enough to demand you get the Relic back in the first place). You started that leviathan fight and ended it surrounded by Cordovin’s fleet. So how did you get to Atlas? Because she let you cross. How did you reach Ironwood? Because he dropped your arrest. Yang stopped Adam, yes, but that was its own, separate fight. Regarding the “getting to Atlas” point they botched that up completely.

Basically, this resume of victories is unpersuasive, to say the least. Yang highlights the end goal rather than acknowledging Ren’s point: have we, as individuals, actually made things better lately?

They absolutely have not.

Note how, in contrast, Ren includes himself in this criticism. He doesn’t just lay responsibility at Ruby and Jaune’s feet, he’s second on the list for being underprepared. For messing up. He’s just an “orphan from nowhere” and this tells us that, unlike Qrow, Ren is actually concerned with this problem and his own place in it. He’s not just blowing off steam and running from his responsibility. Rather, he’s making important points here yet, as he says, no one else wants to listen.

And that’s why the scene ultimately sucks. “But, Clyde! It’s a speech straight out of your metas!” Yes it was and it was beautiful to witness, but the problem is that Ren’s supposed to be wrong. Jaune glares at him before leaving. Yang clenches her fists and asks if he just wants to push everyone away. He’s left hanging his head. Then later they talk about how “broody” he is and provide advice about how to stop doing that. The takeaway here is not, ‘Holy shit, Ren is right and we should rethink our choices,’ but rather that Ren is wrong and needs to come over to their ‘correct’ perspective.

I love that this was laid out. I love that the group is actually fighting for once (way better than Ruby and Yang’s ‘fight’). I also love that we finally see what’s bothering Ren… but we all know this isn’t leading anywhere. The scene ends with Jaune dismissing everything by stating that if Ren doesn’t want to be a huntsmen, fine, but he has a job to do. Ren is supposed to feel guilty here for… telling the truth? Jaune is supposed to look like the hero for soldiering on with his responsibility while moody Ren drags behind. The scene is great, but the purpose of the scene sucks.

Actually, I’d like to talk about a portion of the outpost scene real quick. Skipping ahead, because we really see here how little RT believes the words that they’ve put in Ren’s mouth. Jaune admits that he’s right about cheating into Beacon… but nothing else. Indeed, that “mistake” is swept away because he’s earned his right to be here now. You shouldn’t care about that anymore! Ignoring the point Ren was making about how much they’re in over their heads. Yang apologizes to Jaune on Ren’s behalf, making it clear that she cares more about his potentially hurt feelings than any of the points Ren made. Remind you of anything? Like oh, say, that time Yang cared more about Jaune’s feelings than whether he’d hurt Oscar after slamming him against a wall? All of this despite the fact that Yang JUST accused Ruby of the horrible situation they’re in. Now Ren acknowledges that they’re in a horrible situation and Yang… doesn’t care?? Again, RT is good at giving us the pieces we want, the surface level stuff, but is rarely able to combine it into something fulfilling. If anyone actually takes Ren’s stance seriously, changing their ways rather than talking him out of it, I’ll be shocked.

Especially since the real nail in the coffin of this scene is Jaune telling him that “The more you hide from what you’re feeling, the more alone you’re going to feel.”

Jaune………..buddy……….pal…………were you asleep during that scene? Ren DID tell you what he was feeling. For the first time he did come clean about everything he was experiencing and you both rejected him for it! He’s not pulling away because he’s hiding from what he’s feeling, he’s pulling away because he did show it and both his friends reduced it to “pushing [them] away.” Which is it, Jaune? Should Ren be more open, or should he stop saying things you don’t want to hear? It’s a more complicated version of telling your parents about your interests, them mocking those interests, and then they’re surprised when you don’t share things with them again. I mean, the gall of Jaune to reject everything Ren said in the moment, ignore it after he’s calmed down, and then lecture him about being hiding his emotions.

Jaune and Yang (and the story) don’t want Ren to say what he really thinks, they want him to say what they think. Ren should speak up, but only if he’s going to agree with them.

So Ren sits out in the snow because potentially dying from cold is better than staying in a room with Yang and Jaune. I can’t really blame him lol.

One last thing about the fight scene. Remember how May was put in her place last episode for not using Penny’s name? Well, Yang doesn’t either. Granted, “the Maiden” isn’t as overtly insulting as “tin can” (or whatever it is May said), but it amounts to the same thing: both are replacing Penny’s individual identity with her status as a tool they can use. May sees Penny as the cool tech girl who can get them into the military base. Yang sees Penny as the cool magic girl who is the answer to all their ‘How do we win this?’ problems. Everyone is using Penny. Ruby to launch Amity, Ironwood to open the vault, but you know RWBY will never have a scene where Penny corrects Yang about her name and Ruby looks on, smug. Because the group can continually make the same mistakes as the adults/antagonists around them, but aren’t called out on it in the same way. Ren calls them out and he’s told he’s wrong.

Anyway, the tl;dr of this scene is that Ren is the best. Too bad the story doesn’t realize that.

We then move to my poor Oscar who wakes up looking at his own feet, Ozpin’s voice is as reassuring as it can be under the circumstances. “Oscar? Don’t panic. We’re going to be okay.” I mentioned two weeks back that I hoped the show would explain why we didn’t see Ozpin try to take control during the Hound fight and we still don’t have an explanation, so that’s disappointing. This line is all we get from Ozpin because that’s the norm now. We moved from him being written out of the story entirely to having one or two lines an episode (excluding a speech meant more for the audience than the characters). So, improvement? But a lackluster one, I think. Especially given that he is the focal point of this entire situation with Salem.

I’m avoiding the elephant in the room though. Oscar’s torture is horrifying. In the sense that it should be horrifying. Salem might still inexplicably not be attacking Atlas—and what she’s after at any given time might be getting more and more muddled—but she’s absolutely terrifying here, which is what we needed. The mix of assault with that nurturing tone is just skin crawling. “My long lost Ozma. Found at last” while she (I think?) shows images of their daughters. Honestly, I only heard that from friends, didn’t catch it myself, but then my eyes are shit to begin with. I couldn’t see a thing in this shadowed shot.

(It’s like watching Game of Thrones all over again.)

Oscar tries to pretend to be Ozpin and he does a damn good job with “I’m sorry the reunion isn’t living up to your expectations.” It’s not enough to fool Salem though. She says he’s “not him” yet and I’m again reminded that the show continually references this merge without showing us any change. They’re apparently closer to one person now, but they still speak as individuals. Oscar has Ozpin’s magic, but hasn’t used it, even when his life was on the line. The closest we get to evidence that the merge is underway is that Oscar attempts to lie about knowing Jinn’s name… but what the hell else is he supposed to do here? I suppose he could go the action hero route and shout that she’ll never get the answer out of him, but trying to lie is by far the safer option. That doesn’t tell us that he’s becoming like Ozpin, or even that they’re truly “like-minded souls” as Salem claims. It just tells us that Oscar has two braincells to rub together and can say a short sentence without totally giving himself away. Maybe the kid played a few rounds of Remnant’s Among Us.

This moment highlights another justification for Ozpin’s secrets though. He lives an existence where he is not in control of his own (“own”) body. At any point the host he’s with could falter, fail, turn on him, and in doing so give crucial, world ending information to the enemy. It’s already happened on a small scale, with Oscar successfully taking control, stealing the Jinn information, and giving it to the group. Now here he’s being tortured. How long can he last? Will Oscar give up Jinn’s name? If Ozpin didn’t have the location of the Relic locked up tight in his own consciousness, would that information be lost too? I’m not looking to blame Oscar for anything here—I don’t want to imply that this situation is karma for him taking Jinn’s name, or some such nonsense—I just want to acknowledge that this is the sort of stuff Ozpin has to worry about. If he shares these secrets then that’s more fallible people who are capable of giving that information to Salem. If he keeps them…well, he’s the only one who has to keep his mouth shut during a torture session. His host might want information about the Relics, there’s an argument to be made that they’re entitled to them, but if I were Ozpin I wouldn’t want to take that risk either. The question has essentially become, “Would I trust a 14 year old to keep quiet while tortured by a witch?” Maybe Oscar will! He’s enough of a BAMF to manage it… but that’s still not something I’d want to bet on. Better that Oscar simply doesn’t have that information to give Salem, period.

So obviously this “working relationship” that Salem wants isn’t going well. When Oscar lies she jumps straight to torturing him.

This was legitimately hard to watch and I’m torn about that. On the one hand it’s what I wanted: a scary, powerful Salem who uses the tools at her disposal to get what she’s after. That’s great! Yet I’m still reminded of how far this show has gone to literally beat up the child of the group. Oscar is the one punched into a tree, attacked by a friend, shot by an ally, the star of the show’s most horrifying kidnapping, now the first to be outright tortured by Salem. I don’t really have a point here, I’m not looking to level any specific accusations at RT, I’m just commenting on the pattern and acknowledging that it makes me uncomfortable. There are parts of a story where you’re supposed to be uncomfortable—like the villain torturing a hero—and then there are parts where you’re uncomfortable because the writers seem overly focused on showing images of a specific kid suffering and that’s… weird.

I’m not sure what to make of that just yet.

Anyway, Salem’s magic here is surprisingly pretty. Pretty and painful, but I expected more red and blacks, perhaps some spikey imagery, so the rainbow was an interesting surprise. Given the amount of pain Oscar is in, I suspect too much of that would kill him, so Salem calls in Hazel to continue the interrogation. The first few hits he deals are for Haven, the others for his sister.

See, this is why RWBY needs to actually embrace its “life isn’t a fairy tale” theme. You cannot show me child torture in one week and then move to Ruby “We’ll win because we’re the good guys ^_^” Rose the next. The whole reason why Ironwood (and Ren now) was right is because this is the shit reality they’re dealing with. You didn’t run when you had the chance and now Oscar (and Ozpin) is being tortured. You keep talking about saving Mantle, but the only reason why they’re not already dead is because the writing randomly turns the cold danger on and off. This mix of horrific, real world danger and unjustified confidence doesn’t work.

…also, I officially don’t want any redemption arc for Hazel. This guy is beating on a child because he’s convinced that he’s Ozpin, blaming Ozpin for his sister’s decision, all while forwarding a genocidal maniac’s plans. Hazel and his ridiculous shirts can just get on out of here, thanks.

Finally, I just want to say... this is the woman a lot of the fandom defended. This is the woman you wanted raising those girls and blamed Ozpin for trying to escape with them.

This is how Salem treats children.

Oh, and all of this is without his aura because it just broke. So Oscar is in serious, non-fantasy trouble here.

Someone please rescue him soon 😭

We finish up with some frankly boring stuff with the rest of the villain cast. We learn that the Hound is an “experiment” and a new one given that Cinder has never seen it before. Salem’s dialogue is admittedly great—“Do you hear that, my pet? She thinks. She wants.”—but Cinder just rehashes everything we’ve heard from her before. She wants the Winter Maiden power. She has trouble remembering that she’s playing at Salem’s slave. She even rehashes the exact same line, “Without you, I am nothing.” Why are we wasting time on this when we had that tantalizing backstory before?

Bleh.

Salem tells her in no uncertain terms to stay put.

So Cinder immediately leaves LOL.

She just wants to “check on” Amity tower because she “knows those kids” in ways Salem doesn’t. I’m admittedly slightly confused as to how Cinder knows to go there? Did she believe Ironwood’s lie that it was finished even though it apparently IS finished now? Has she overheard something? I’m not sure. Frankly, keeping track of that stuff in RWBY is headache inducing, so let’s just roll with it.

Neo, the only one with a brain around here, makes it clear she thinks Cinder is an idiot for going. Emerald, always the Cinder fan, offers to go in her stead. She’s been working on her semblance, so I expect we’ll see something cool with that soon. They head off, apparently not worried about what Salem will do to them when they get back.

Which is when we move to the outpost for our final scene, most of which I’ve covered. I only have two more things I want to bring up here.

The first is the tone. As said earlier, the tone of the Hound chase wasn’t horrible, but I find myself disappointed in the overall attitude of Jaune and Yang. Yang is making jokes about how they can’t fly, high-fiving Jaune, and they’re both shrugging off Ren’s concerns. Jaune says he won’t be able to sleep due to worrying about Oscar, but neither of them act particularly worried. Which isn’t to say they need to be sobbing the whole time or whatever, just that Ren is the only one who feels real here. They may not agree with his stance about everything else, but they’ve all experienced the same event: watching a grimm that can morph, talk, and think horrifically kidnap a teammate. Shouldn’t there be more emotion attached to that? Things have gotten better with Oscar than they’ve been in the past, largely due to details like Nora’s hug at the beginning of the volume, but let’s be real, they’re still not perfect. Do we think Jaune and Yang would be this nonchalant if Ruby were kidnapped that way? Say all you want about Ruby being her sister, or others being teammates for longer, but the fact remains that Oscar has been taken to Salem herself and the only one reacting to that in any meaningful way is Ren.

Who they say will “brood himself to death.” That right there. The one guy freaking out about your kidnapped friend should not be described as “brooding.”

All of which segues into my second point, namely that Yang doesn’t seem to care about Ruby anymore either! She asks Jaune, “Do you think she thinks less of me?” for not going to Amity and when Jaune reassures her that Ruby will always love her, Yang’s response is, “Yeah… Ruby.”

She was thinking about Blake.

The kicker? I thought she was talking about Ruby too. Because Ruby is her sister. Because she and Ruby had the fight (“fight”). Because Ruby was trying to call her to check in. Because Blake and Yang didn’t even acknowledge that they went on different missions here. I thought Blake was like Jaune, not really taking a side and just heading with Ruby because the team is splitting down the middle. Where did this worry come from?

And I want to praise RT here (I really do) because I can see the effort. I said Blake and Yang needed to spend time apart, they have. I said they needed to work through their co-dependent identities, now Blake is reminding Nora (and theoretically herself too) that someone you love is just a part of you. I said that the group couldn’t be a hive-mind, now there’s disagreement. I said the show needs to make Blake/Yang canon at some point and you can’t do that if they don’t talk about and to each other. So I fully admit that this is everything I asked for… so why does it feel so badly done? No matter how many boxes it checks off, it’s still a moment where we thought Yang was finally worrying about her sister again—like she used—and then it’s ‘Sike! It was really just about Blake! Again. Yang is worried about a problem that was never even introduced.’

I suppose that’s why it doesn’t work for me. Yang and Ruby had the falling out, but Yang and Blake, somehow, become the focus. Is it really so hard to write Yang as a sister and a potential love interest? Yang apparently can’t care for Ruby and Blake, Weiss can’t care for her team and her brother, Ruby can’t care for Mantle and Ironwood… it’s like each character gets one (1) thing to put their emotional energy towards at any given time and that’s it. That’s all they get.

On the flip side, this is why Ren feels like a person this episode. He cares about Mantle, and the future fight, and their past mistakes, and his place here, and the problems within the team, and Nora… He feels like a well-rounded person! vs. Yang and Jaune who don’t even consider his perspective, vs. Yang having a fight with her sister but only cares about Blake. They’re one-dimensional in comparison.

It is, as always, disappointing.

As the group “broods” then the camera shows us a piece of the ice nearby, slowly cracking as Jaune says that “Things always seem to get worse before they get better.” Well, that’s unexpected. I didn’t think our opening would be literal. I’ve been worried about Atlas falling on everyone, not everyone falling… to whatever is underneath the kingdom as a whole. Is the kingdom falling apart? Or is something waking up and moving towards the surface? If RWBY can reproduce the characterization we got with the Hound, I wouldn’t be opposed to another leviathan grimm rising from the snowy deep to assist Salem…

Though how the fuck group will survive everything and that, who knows lol.

And that’s our episode! Issues aside—most of which have been ongoing issues. We knew they were there—I think this was our strongest episode so far this volume. Well done! There are still problems, no doubt, but at least I was only bored for a small portion of that 20 minutes. Let’s just keep heading in that direction.

Exciting Saturday, huh?

Regarding bingo updates:

RWBY actually re-used a grimm I thought they’d abandoned, so well done there.

No civilians around for the giant grimm army to attack, so that was fine. Kind of strange though that they completely disappeared after the Hound left.

The timeline is starting to get wonky. For example, what kind of stakes am I supposed to expect when Cinder decides to head to Amity? Is it currently empty? Is Pietro there? Has Penny made it yet? I said weeks ago that RWBY would need to follow multiple groups to fill out fourteen episodes in just two days—and they’re definitely doing that—but that means we don’t have a clear sense of what events are happening simultaneously and what are meant to be linear.

No Winter or Ironwood this episode.

Watts is back with Jacques! Potential for team-up 2.0? That will admittedly be hard with Qrow and Robyn there, unless those two escape.

(Oh yeah, I thought Qrow and the others would be held in the military base and Ruby would find him during her heist… but she doesn’t even care that Qrow is in jail.)

Maria is still a ghost. If we hit the halfway mark with her not doing anything I’m calling the space.

I definitely wouldn’t call this cliffhanger needless. That’s actually a cool way to end things, even if Jaune’s line was pretty on the nose.

Neo may be getting closer to backstabbing Cinder if those expressions are anything to go by.

Still waiting to see if Amity works.

And finally, drumroll please! …

“More obvious Blake/Yang implications without confirming a relationship.” Yup, I’m marking that this week. After Blake’s ‘just a part of you’ comment and now Yang only being worried about her reaction? Definitely calling it. If RWBY confirms a relationship this volume I’ll eat my words—and some celebratory cake — but until then salt prevails. Especially after the fiasco that was Supernatural.

Still no bingo. Ah well, maybe next week lol.

Until then! 💜

[Ko-fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #rwby fault #rwby recaps #mymetas

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

Text

Damien Dalgaard x Experimenting!Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: You want to safely experiment with recreational drugs but Damien wants to keep that from happening so he stretches his power in the world of drug sales to prevent anyone of note from selling to you.

Warnings: References to responsible recreational drug use, drug dealers, slightly controlling/possessive ways. Sexual references, also. Its mostly fluffy though

I stand one bisexual drug dealer

~~~

"Jacob, please. Come on. I have the money, I have my drivers licence- you know me! I don't want anything crazy, just something fun! And safe!" You press your hands together in a 'praying' gesture and set the hulking figure with a pleading gaze. "And I have plans to take it, at home, with my sober mum in the room. Really, I have no precarious plans!"

"I know, I trust you sweetheart. But I just cant sell you anything." He shrugs, turning his body towards the bar exit so he can escape you- but your hand flies from your side and to his forearm, gently, to stop him. He whines. "Come on, Y/N... "

"Jacob... " You fire back, in the same pleading tone. Then an awkward smile slips across your lips and raise an eyebrow in question, crossing your arms over your chest. "Come on," You tilt your head to the side. "What's really going on? You're the 4th person that's refused to sell me anything and I'm running out of notable dealers."

Jacob rubs the back of his thick neck, the skin stretching under his palm, and he grits his teeth together. "Look, I... " Making a frustrated noise, he lets go and shakes his head, avoiding your gaze. "Someone... doesn't seem to uh... be too pleased, at the idea of you... " He tilts his head to one side, then the other. Choosing his words carefully- not that he has to. Understanding is starting to sink in as he speaks, anyway. Finally he drops his arm and sighs out a frustrated sigh. "Buying any drugs."

Damn it.

As Jacob says sorry and slips away from you successfully this time as you sigh and lean back on the pillar behind you. A certain blue eyed devil boy, who was unknowingly to you, keeping an eye on the exchange between you and Jacob from the bar, picks up his drink and slips through the crowd to you. As soon as you see him, you roll your eyes. Of course he's here, on top of everything else!

You refuse to even say hello to your stalker and give him the damn satisfaction, and just glare at up at him from the pillar instead. Although, you're careful not to pout- lest you only cement his juvenile opinion of you.

"Sorry, sunshine. Got to him a few minutes before you got through the door."

You huff. "Damiennnnn." A smirk flickers at the corners of the raven haired dealer's lips, just like any time you would groan out his name; The context be damned. "Why're you doing this?"

"For your own good, baby. You know tha- " Before he can even finish that sentence, you're rolling your eyes and moving to leave him right there in the bar, but he manages to side step you and get in front of you again. His hand curls around your arm, gently. "You wouldn't like it. I know you wouldn't, you're a good kid. I'm just saving you from a bad experience."

"That's not your choice to make." You snap back, gaze meeting his and, for once, being the icier party. "Damien you're not my mum. And you're not my boyfriend- neither of which would change a damn thing about my decision, if you were in fact either of those things to me."

"Well that's just too bad sweetheart, because alert the presses, cuz I seem to have just beat the system." Like the hot douche he tends to be, he makes a show of looking you over, from head to toe. "Because I don't see any fucking drugs, on you."

You growl, and exclaim hopelessly. "I would if you would just sell them to me!"

"Not gonna happen."

"Why!?"

"I told you." Damien moves closer, hunching over you. You can feel his breath on your forehead, but still you stay firm. He's annoying, and frustrating, and a pain in the ass. Your personal brand of sexy, yes, but all those other things first and foremost. "You're a goody-two-shoes, and you wouldn't like what it does to you." Oh, he says it like its scientific fact. And it seriously grates on your nerves. Why is he so insistent??!

You roll your eyes deeply, enough to really feel it before talking again. "I wouldn't or you wouldn't?"

A slow, mischievous grin slips over his face. But its just a show and does little to cover up the unsureness in his eyes. "Sweetheart. Does that distinction really matter that much?"

You cross your arms. "It does if you're thinking like a boyfriend but refuse to act like one, jerk." For a moment he doesn't say anything. His mouth opens a little, like words should come out immediately - a deflection, a denial. Something clean and easy, - but he just... gets stuck. Freezes. Realisation of how real those words you just spat out must truly be slowly dawn on you, and you revert your gaze from his. The anger from before kind of just, slips right out of you. "Cuz... you come to see me a lot. You try to protect me. We're having regular sex, you bring me my (Chosen drink) for no conceivable reason other then to make me happy... " Things start to make sense to you as 2 and 2 come together. Your eyebrows knit together and your gaze flickers up to his, then away again. Then you shrug. "But then again, that cant be it, right? You don't do relationships, right?"

"Right." He replies back, quickly this time. Too quickly.

"Right." You say back, then chew on your bottom lip and look around. You cant see much of the rest of the bar, and the partyers being loud as hell around because Damien's so close and is shielding you from everything, but you don't know quite what else to do, now. He's frozen, and even when he defrosts you're not sure he's going to have anything remotely productive to say and might just brush you off actually which would be sucky, so... Maybe, you should... go???

But just as you move to slip around Damien and leave, he seems to gather his wits and clenches his grip harder down on your arm. "Hold on, wait a moment, there." He looks up and finally meets my eyes again; You raise an eyebrow expectantly. What? He sighs, and leans forward, rests an arm on the pillar above your head - caging you in, - and squeezes his eyes closed for a moment, controlling himself. "Where are you going?" For gods sake.

"Home- there you go thinking like a boyfriend again though! Why do you need to know where I'm gonna be??"

"Why do you answer me, in the first place?" He shoots right back this time, causing you to blanche up at him. A slow smirk spreads across his lips again- this time, real. There's a definite mischievous sparkle in those blue-blue eyes. "Do you want me to be your boyfriend, Y/N?"

Sputtering, mostly to waste time so you can find the right response to a bold question like that, you say nothing. What? What? This is not about you- Why don't you feel violently ill at the concept, though?

Must be just because he's standing so close. He's pretty, that's it. Your own personal, addictive brand of pretty. That's all- "Maybe?"

... what??

For a moment all the mystery, mischief, good old bad-boy energy and just, plain, darkness just leaves him. Its unbelievably endearing and all you can do is stand there like a doll watching Damien laugh, quietly, at your response and probably the fact that you must look like a startled baby bird right now too. Briefly you let yourself dip into that box pushed into the very back of your mind, hiding away all the things that you shouldn't think about regarding Damien, and wonder if that's what he looked like all the time, before. When he was all geeky and book-nose-y. A 'goody-two-shoes' himself. You read about that part of his life on Gossip Girl. He didn't talk about it, for damn sure.

Then you shut that down because its in that box for a reason. Its not appropriate for you to dig that deep, with him.

But also you're totally confused, with where this conversation might be going. Should you pick up that box? Its becoming dangerously close to being appropriate.

"Maybe?" He asks, clearly amused. Like a chameleon, his colours change back again to drug dealing dickhead. You don't mind. You like both.

You tilt your head to the side, raising an eyebrow. "... Well, do you want me to be your girlfriend?"

He rolls his eyes, smirking, and chooses to torture you with his own 'Maybe', making you huff. He's amused by it, before setting you with a serious, questioning look. "If I did, though... What would that mean about your little drug quest you got going, here?"

Oh.

You're back here again.

Wonderful.

"Well," You take a deep breath, and reach up to cautiously hang your arms loosely around his neck; Something you've done plenty of times before but never so intimately. Not this kind intimately, anyway. Absolutely not. This kind, is what makes you nervous. More then when you met him, your first time at a bar on your own. More then any of the times someone dangerous approached you both when you were with him, definitely more then when you had sex - no matter where, - . More then roller coasters and giant swings. "I don't think it would go away totally," You say, carefully. "if I was your girlfriend, or anyone's girlfriend. Then, I think I'd be... too preoccupied, to think about that. For a little while, at least."

After a moment of letting your words sink in, Damien makes a thoughtful 'Hm' sound and wraps both his arms around your waist- gathering you up against him. "Sounds like time that could be used convincing you not to try."

"You could see it that way." You grin, rolling your eyes. But like a light switch, those words seem to ease the whole situation. Damien's hands on you, the feel of him close, isn't anything new to you. But it feels different all the same. Like you're really allowed to like it, now. In all the most innocent ways possible. "But good luck."

"I think I'll take my chances with that option." Damien proclaims, and for a moment you just stand there together. The bar's music blaring in your ears, making them pink and hot, the material of his dark coat cosy to the touch and making you feel enclosed in it and safe despite all the chaos that bars encase, Damien looking around the room; Not assessing possible sales for once or checking for danger. Just... stewing in his satisfaction. The frustration bleeding from the both of you earlier seemingly evaporated like it was nothing, as you grin down to yourself. "Also," He pipes up again coyly after a few minutes, catching your attention by squeezing you a little bit, also. "With you as my girlfriend," Girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend- "now, I can do this any time I want."

Then he leans down and presses his lips against yours - less needy then usual. Not looking for anything more. Just kissing you to feel your lips against his, - in a kiss that sends tingles all over your body, and forces you to get up onto the tips of your toes to reciprocate with as much passion.

BONUS:

"Welp, I'm gonna get going now." You exclaim once the kiss is over, or you just cant hold your breath anymore, and reluctantly pull out of his arms, fixing your bag on your shoulder. You flash him a grin, tilting your head to the side. "Probably see you tomorrow?"

"Where are you going?"

"Home!" What does he mean, 'Where are you going?' ??? "I told you. I have cookies there, and my sister will eat all of them if I stay away all night."

Damien just stares back at you, waiting for some punch line, apparently. When no punchline comes after too many moments, he holds up a hand to slow you down- as if you had moved at all, with him staring at you like that. Any dose of those blue eyes are lethal. "Wait, you're really going home?"

"Yep." You pop the 'p', equally confused with him as he is with you. What does he mean, 'Wait, you're really going home'?????? Of course you're going home. That's what you said? Twice?

He just continues to stare at you. "What?? Cookies, Damien."

"I can buy you cookies." He assures, but you shake your head.

Tempting, but- "Mm, not these. I baked them."

"I can buy you ingredients."

"But then I have to wait for them to bake, and cool, when I can just take a 15 minute tram ride home and eat them now."

"Okay- " Damien sighs, kneading his forehead. "Alright, I might be new to the boyfriend thing Y/N, but don't people in relationships traditionally spend a- well, an obscene, amount of time together?" You smirk and giggle, at that. Oh, that's the issue. He thought becoming your boyfriend would be a bigger thing.

Hmm, you look away and wonder how to word this...

"Damien. Heads up, but as far as I'm aware, you've been acting like my boyfriend for months now. We've just labelled it now- not much is gonna change, except maybe I'll use the 'boyfriend card' sometimes with you. Don't sweat." With that, you lean up and peck him on the cheek as he smirks; relieved. Then you step back totally, resigned to not touching him again tonight even if you want to. That was goodbye. "Now, I'll text you later? Have a good night!"

"Night." He chuckles, pocketing his hands and turning to watch you leave.

#Damien Dalgaard #Damien Dalgaard x Reader #Drabble #Gossip Girl #Gossip Girl x Reader #Damien Dalgaard x Reader Drabble #Drabbles

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twstarchives · 4 years

Text

Ace Trappola・Voice Lines

Additional Voice Lines: Dress-Up Groom Event Card

School Uniform - R

Unlock Card “Don’t drag in any kind of trouble again, alright? ‘Cause I’m not helping you out this time!”

Groovy “It’d get exhausting always being so serious about everything, wouldn’t it? You just gotta be efficient about things ♪”

Home Setting “Let’s take it nice and slow today!”

Home Transitions “Something’s always going on whenever I’m with you. Seriously, it doesn’t ever get boring.”

“Hm? I don’t really hate school. It’s not like I need it, though. Haha! If I didn’t go, I’d just have nothing to do.”

“Professor Crewel called me over when I ditched class duty today... He gets so intense when he’s scolding his students!”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Oh, you’re finally here. So what’re you doing right now? C’mon, pick something~”

Home Taps “It’s kinda nice that our outfits are already picked out for us everyday. If we got to wear casual clothes, we’d have to spend some time trying to put together an outfit.”

“My dreams for the future? Nope, don’t got any! Striving hard to achieve your dreams is so... bleurgh, I can’t do it. It’s just not my thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, what do you want with me this time? You’ve got some serious dedication to this whole prefect thing.”

“I’m glad our dorm color is red. I like red. It stands out, it’s stylish, and it fits me nicely, doesn’t it?”

“Alright, alright, stop pulling so hard; I can hear you just fine! ...So? What is it?”

PE Uniform - R

Unlock Card “I’m pretty confident about my reflexes. Wanna take a look at my magift skills?”

Groovy “You can tell just by looking at me that I’m the type who hates losing. Come do some intensive training with me!”

Home Setting “It’s not good for you to just be standing still like that!”

Home Transitions “I seriously can’t handle Coach Vargas. He’s so intense and conceited... It’s tiring just being around him.”

“I have a lot of fun in the basketball club. I get along well with upperclassmen from the other dorms too.”

“I think sports and magic are kinda similar. I mean, you’ve gotta put all your effort into both of them everyday.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “PE class is about to start soon. You’ll get left behind if you keep moving so slow~”

Home Taps “Did you already eat yet? If not, let’s go pick up something from the store. It’s boring being cooped up inside all the time.”

“No way. I don’t even have to ask; I can tell just by that face that whatever you have to say is something real troublesome. Don’t tell me.”

“I don’t wanna turn into some macho guy who’s totally ripped, so I can take it easy with my training.”

“Cater actually has pretty good reflexes. I should ask him for some Flying tips later.”

“Ahaha!! What do you want~? You keep poking me in the side over and over again!”

Lab Coat - SR

Unlock Card “Working together’s really important. ...So anyway, let’s do our best on this assignment!”

Groovy “It’s fine to slack off just a little. Just do your best not to get caught.”

Home Setting “What, you’ve got a question? Alright, you owe me one.”

Home Transitions “I saw Deuce in the library looking really serious about something. I guess he’s studying for our next test.”

“Hey, did you finish the homework? Let’s do it together if you haven’t yet. That way we can split the work and get it done faster.”

“Sometimes there are potions with effects that make you think ‘What would you even make that for?’ I’d never wanna drink one, though.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “They don’t call Night Raven a prestigious academy for nothing. I gotta study sometimes too or I’ll get behind.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Why do you have so much motivation for your classes? Don’t tell me you’re actually planning on making Grim a great mage, or something?”

Home Taps “The Headmaster really shows up and vanishes at the most unexpected times. Yesterday it almost gave me a heart attack when I noticed he was sitting behind me.”

“Be careful if you come across any talking flowers in the Botanical Garden. People say they’re really mean.”

“Potions are so nasty. And yet in the Queen of Hearts’ country, they were supposed to have tasted like things like pies and juice...”

“What do they even do at the science club? Trey invited me to stop by earlier but it seemed boring so I said no.”

“Ah, I seriously can’t deal with intense people. Go do that kinda stuff with Deuce, not me!”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Have you gotten everything ready for our next experiment? I’m kinda worried about how slow you are.”

Ceremony Robes - SR

Unlock Card “Wearing these feels kinda... ah, don’t laugh at me! You’re not one to talk either!!”

Groovy “Hehe! I give off that prestigious Night Raven College! vibe, don’t I?”

Home Setting “Don’t cause any trouble today!”

Home Transitions “Hah... Why do the teachers have to talk for so long? It’s so boring. I wish they’d wrap it up in three minutes flat.”

“What kinds of things do you guys have celebrations for where you come from? Do you celebrate Unbirthdays?”

“Before enrolling here, I thought these clothes looked so old-fashioned, but now I think they’re very fitting for a mage. Heheh.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Oi, Prefect. Grim starts causing all the mischief he wants whenever you’re not here!”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Tada! I pulled a hedgehog out of my hood...! Wait, I messed it up. Magic tricks using living creatures are really hard.”

Home Taps “If you’re free, how about we go to the lounge? Well, the only thing I usually do there is play cards though.”

“Doesn’t this school have a serious lacking of entertainment?! There’s absolutely nowhere to have fun! What about a café? Or some live shows?!”

“My shoulders feel kinda stiff... I’m really not good at formal things.”

“I think my brother was even happier than my parents when they found out I was accepted here. He’s an alumni from the same dorm as me.”

“No, you can’t sleep right now! You were dozing off in class the other day and even I could tell from sitting behind you!”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Oh, perfect timing. Could we have a card game tournament at Ramshackle tonight? ...It’s fine, no one’ll find out!”

Dorm Uniform - SSR

Unlock Card “My winning trump card is the Ace of Hearts!”

“I’d rather not get all heated and serious about things. ...Hey, are you even listening?!”

Groovy “You want to come to Heartslabyul? Haha, we’ll always welcome you!”

Home Setting “Let’s hurry and get this done!”

Home Transitions “Wanna go to the Unbirthday Party together? I promise there’ll be a delicious tart. ...I can’t promise the Dorm Leader will be in a good mood, though.”

“I know a magic trick that can make multiple cards appear from just one. Wanna see?”

“Euegh... I ate too much pie and now I’m so full... Trey’s sweets are just so good; I couldn’t stop eating.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Prefect-! Come help me take care of the hedgehogs we use for croquet!”

Home Transition (Groovy) “So? How do I look in my dorm uniform? Handsome? ...Er, complimenting me that much would just sound like a lie.”

Home Taps “I showed the Dorm Leader a card trick and it actually surprised him. That felt nice ♪”

“If I was put in a different dorm... mm, I can’t even picture it. I guess Heartslabyul just fits me the best.”

“The freshmen have four people per room. It’s crowded, but it’s always full of energy so it’s a lot of fun. You should come hang out sometime.”

“Red vests are part of both our school and dorm uniforms, but the ones we wear with our dorm uniforms also have a traditional pattern associated with the Queen of Hearts on them.”

“Hey, now even you are acting just like Grim does; stop it! This keeps getting more and more out of hand.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “I wish you were part of Heartslabyul too. You don’t get the thrill of wondering when your head’ll get chopped off anywhere else.”

Duo Magic Ace: “Oi, Deuce! You better not just drag me down!” Deuce: “You’re so full of yourself! Who do you think you’re talking to, Ace?!”

Birthday Celebration Outfit - SSR

This card was only obtainable during Ace’s birthday event (Sept 18 - Sept 25, 2020).

Login on Birthday “Hey Prefect, do you know what day it is today? It’s not an Unbirthday... It’s Ace’s birthday! Which means I’m the star of today. What should I do for it~?”

Unlock Card “Today I can have the first slice of cake without worrying about losing my head, right?”

“Hey, what’re you gonna get me for my birthday? Oh, if you’ve got no idea, a cherry pie would be nice~”

Groovy “Having a giant party isn’t as bad as I thought. Thanks for coming to celebrate too!”

Home Setting “This get-up’s so embarrassing! It’s screaming ‘Look at me!’ way too much.”

Home Transitions “This heart-shaped pin is reaaally sparkly. It’s kinda intense with how special! it looks.”

“When I was at my club earlier, the soles of my basketball shoes fell apart. Floyd has a good sense of style; maybe he’ll give some to me as a gift~”

“I don’t mind Cater posting pictures of me on Magicam... but I don’t know how to feel about him tagging it as ‘Acey’s Growth Record.’”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Sorry, but we can’t have an Unbirthday Party today. ‘Cause today’s my actual birthday!”

Home Transition (Groovy) “After the party, can I come over to Ramshackle? Let’s invite Jack and the others and play cards till it’s morning.”

Home Taps “When I was little, my older brother one time blew out the candles on my birthday cake. We got into huge fight after.”

“I’m only one year older now, but everyone’s making a huge celebration out of it... I’m not saying I hate it, though~”

“Deuce said he’d treat me to whatever pastry I want at the school store! Hahaha, let’s ask him for the most expensive one. You in?”

“My brother’s not the only one good at magic tricks in my family; my dad’s really good at them too. On our birthdays, he used to show us tricks using gift boxes.”

“Aghgh, I get it! We’re done saying ‘Yes, Happy Birthday!’ ...It’s kind of really embarrassing...”

Home Tap (Groovy) “I can ask you favors since it’s my special day today, can’t I? When you finish that assignment, come join the party!”

Duo Magic Ace: Ortho, wish me a big happy birthday! Ortho: Happy birthday, Ace Trappola!

Lv Up “Oh, this feels kinda nice!”

“Yay! Level up!”

“I gotta get even further ahead of everyone else.”

Max Lv Up “This feels incredible. Now that I’ve got this, it’ll probably be a lot easier for me to back up a certain someone who can’t use magic.”

Episode Lv Up “Ahaha! So these kinds of things can happen too. I always thought people like you would be the ones I’d get along the worst with, but I guess not! ...Just messing with you.”

Magic Lv Up “I could win against the Dorm Leader now that I’ve got this power, right? ...Oh, what I said just now is a secret, ‘kay?”

Limit Break “Whaaat? Aren’t you expecting too much from me? Well, alright. Guess I just should just work a little harder!”

Groovy “I’ll keep showing you more and more of my cool side, so look forward to that!”

Lesson Select “What class are you doing? Hurry up and pick. I’ll be sleeping straight through any one you pick anyway.”

“You’re so enthusiastic about this... Okay, okay! Stop pulling on me so hard!”

“Make sure to keep a close eye on Grim during class, alright, Prefect? He tried ditching earlier and the teacher got mad at him.”

Lesson Start “Let’s get this over with!”

Lesson End “It’s done~! Ahh, I’m tired.”

Battle Start “Okay~ I’ll make you all hit rock bottom!”

Battle End “Nothing to say about it. I won!”

Other

Profile Quote “Man, the Queen of Hearts is so cool! Nobody would obey a queen who’s just kind all the time, right?”

January 2020 Trailer “Ya better not be late! Or the scaaary queen will chop off your head!”

Countdown Poster “Stop daydreaming. Don’t you know you can get lost in the rose maze?”

Take His Hand “Let's head on over there!”

Player Birthday Wish “Eh? Was there something going on today? ...I’m just messing with you! It’s your birthday, right? Of course I remembered. Happy birthday, Prefect.”

Valentine’s Day Gift Letter (2021)

These letters were originally in English. I didn’t translate or edit them in any way. They came with official merch from Aniplex, and are not present in-game.

Hey you, Thanks for the present. But what’s up with the sudden gesture? Are you trying to apologize for something here? …JUST KIDDING! I actually need to talk to you about something, too. See you in class later!

#twisted wonderland #ace trappola #voice lines

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rosethornewrites · 3 years

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Fics I read this week

Some of these may have been read earlier than a week ago, but I tried to keep it contained. Not sure I’ll keep this up, but I’ll try.

Finished:

Rated E:

the origin of change, by kissteethstainred, rated E

Lan Xichen said, “Time for regrowth and mourning is, of course, the most important. But there has also been a—frequent—discussion of marriage.” He paused to drink more tea. He almost seemed apologetic when he added, “Your name has been brought up often.”

“For marriage,” Lan Wangji repeated.

Except with Wei Ying in the picture, nothing goes exactly as planned.

Opportunity, by brooklinegirl, rated E

Lan Zhan is jostled slightly and he turns in his seat to see a harried-looking man squeezing in next to him. There isn't an empty seat there, and the bar is quite crowded. "Sorry," the man says, sounding out of breath. "I know I'm all up in your business, I'll move, I promise, I just—" He blows his breath out. "I'm going to lose this seat next to you, that dude over there has been eyeing it, and it's mine as soon as this guy leaves.”

Rated M:

Oxymoron, by feline_somnambulist, rated M

Jiang Yanli was in the kitchen. She hummed softly along to music being played somewhere else in the house, as she shuffled carefully back and forth from the prep table to the giant vat of soup. The house smelled like pork rib and savory broth. As always, she was beautiful in her element, a goddess of her domain despite the limp and the leg brace.

Her phone rang just as Jiang Cheng entered the kitchen. She saw him and smiled as she made her careful way to the phone on the wall-mounted charging station.

Jiang Cheng put the stack of paperwork down on a counter. He got to the phone first, picked it up. It was Lan Wangji’s number. He rejected the call and put the phone in his pocket.

“A-Cheng? Is everything okay?” Jiang Yanli asked, a frown creasing her brow. “Who was that?”

It Ends With the Beginning, by feline_somnambulist, rated M

They fight. They part. Jiang Cheng is hurt. Wei Wuxian comes to help. Wei Wuxian runs. Jiang Cheng is tired of chasing. They fight.

Until The End, by abCEE, rated M

"When I -- when I tied my ribbon around our wrists, I knew what I was doing and I privately honored it." Wei Wuxian's brows continued to meet as he tried to understand where the conversation was going until realization dawned on him. "Wa -- wait! Lan Zhan, is it what I think it is?!!" "It is usually done at the end of a wedding ceremony --" "What-" "But it could have been acknowledged as an engagement." "Lan Zhan!" He cannot believe what he is hearing now. "But my ancestor revealed herself --" "And we bowed… three times. We bowed, Lan Zhan!"

In which wangxian are married since the Cold Pond Cave incident, knows how proper communication works, and had confessed in the middle of the Sunshot Campaign. Things went spiraling up and down from there.

Rated T:

as it should be, by Sienne, rated T

Post-canon Lan Qiren time travels to before the Cloud Recesses lectures. The Cloud Recesses are quiet and peaceful, something his home hasn't been in years. ...In fact, it is too quiet and peaceful.

Judgment Day, by Grace_Logan, rated T

Cornered Wei Wuxian sees only one way out after cluing in on the Jin's plan.

Welcome To Gusu, by perkynurples, rated T

Deep in the lush forests of Gusu hides an aging resort that hosts dozens of children every summer for an unforgettable couple of weeks. It’s where Lan Wangji grew up alongside Wei Wuxian, and when his childhood friend (for the lack of a better term) surprisingly returns years later in the position of Senior Counsellor, seemingly hell bent on causing the same kind of mischief that got him kicked out of Gusu in the first place, but also taller, broader and tanner than ever before, Lan Wangji knows he’s In Trouble. Or, this fic has it all: longing looks over campfires, found family dynamics, ill-timed skinny dipping, teenagers inappropriately shipping their counsellors, camp weddings...

Therapy is a Performative Act, by cinder1013, rated T

“What does your dad think of your comedy?”

“Oh, he hates it, but it pays the bills and I need it to pay for my goddamn fuckin’ therapy.”

Jiang Cheng stumbles into being a stand-up comic and his favorite topic is dear ol’ dad.

sorry, i love you, by moon_thief, rated T

lan wangji was practically seething as he watched it happen. what kind of person could be so careless, unruly, undisciplined-

and then their eyes met.

oh. oh.

Tremble a Prayer, by cqlorphan, rated T

They kiss, and Lan Wangji regulates himself. There are no tears pricking at his eyes. There is no lump in his throat. His hands are undressing Wei Ying, and then Wei Ying’s hands are on his hands.

“What is it?” Wei Ying says, between kisses.

Even with Wei Ying back, Lan Wangji's sadness overwhelms him at times. He tries, and fails, to keep it from him.

The Quiet Work, by ShipsAreLaunching, rated T

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian get a summons for help from a minor clan in Gusu. When they go to investigate they find a horrible truth, and do what they do best.

Rated G:

Ink Stains Not So Ignored, by Preludian_Staves, rated G

Qiren found something that he still couldn't bring himself to ignore about his youngest nephew's husband.

I’d buy a big house where we both could live, by failed2be_chill, rated G

“Ah, so you want to play with the rabbits and enjoy their soft fur and silly little nose twitches while your poor husband toils in the heat of the day with hammer and nail doing exhausting manual labour. I see how it is. It’s a good job I love you, huh?” Wei Wuxian kisses his husband’s soft cheek.

“Mn, very good.”

---

Or, married WangXian embrace the practical and symbolic joys of home ownership. Domestic bliss.

Family, by Speechless_since_1998, rated G

Jiang Cheng blinked as his brother while he played with the baby he was holding.

He hoped he had misunderstood, but he had proof that it was true right in front of him.

So he did the only sensible thing that came to mind, "Wei Ying, what the fuck ?! '

"A-Cheng, language!" Shijie scolded him with a stern look.

"A-Jie, you can't really accept such a thing!"

"Why not? He is so cute!" she said, making funny faces at the child, totally in love with him.

Was it possible that he was the only one with a bit of mental sanity left?

A Lonely Guqin (No More), by Asphodel_Meadow, rated G

Wei Wuxian is the first person who makes Lan Wangji want to have a duet.

piercing, by escapingaugust, rated G (read the tags)

Stolen Midnights, by hinotoriii, rated G

There are nights where sleep eludes Wei Wuxian. Where the demons of his past are too loud in his mind, reminding him of that which he could never forget, second life or not.

Unfinished:

Not Rated:

Disclosed Regrets, by zLanWuxian, Not Rated

The majority of the cultivation world are pulled into a room that suspiciously resembled the burial mounds. (Their golden cores were sealed too. As to why, nobody knew.)

They are invited to watch Wei Wuxian's life.

What will they do when they find out everything they believed was a lie?

(Or: The characters of Mo Dao Zu Shi watch Mo Dao Zu Shi)

Rated E:

Where You Fell, by Sweet_William, rated E

Years ago, Lan Wangji was a Senior in high school, readying himself for graduation and the coming years studying at the Gusu Lan Institute of Music. Everything in his life made sense, from his role in his family, to a future as a classical musician. The only thing that didn’t fit was the sudden epiphanies he had about himself brought on by his bothersome and flirtatious classmate, Wei Wuxian. When the growing attraction and friendship was cut short by the other boy’s disappearance, he mourned what could have been, but ultimately had to move on. What he didn’t know was that fate would bring them back together again one day, or the reality of how far apart two lives can diverge, how some can find peace and prosperity, while others can fall farther than he ever imagined.

A Narrow Bridge, by FrameofMind and Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle), rated E

Once, Lan Wangji made a choice to step aside. Ten years after Wei Ying’s death, he finds a way back to choose again.

Setting fire to our insides, by StarsAlignNomore, rated E

Lan Wangji dies after the thirty-third strike. Lan Xichen does not handle it well.

*fleabag voice* This is a fix it.

Rated M:

Live Again, Love Anew, by kkanime5555, rated M

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian finally speaks up.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan hums to show he’s listening.

“I think we traveled back in time.”

...

“I’ll go, Lan Zhan. I’ll come to Gusu with you.”

-----

Or,

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are soulmates and, upon Wei Ying's death, they are sent back to when they first met as kids on the streets of Yiling. From there, they both are taken to Gusu, where they are raised together, gradually learning of their shared feelings and finding out the mystery of who sent them back in time and why, all while planning how to save the world, preferably with all their loved ones left alive.

A Torn Red Ribbon, by shiroakuma, rated M

The night before they marched into the Nightless City, Lan Wangji was invited to join Wei Wuxian in his tent.

Unbeknownst to him at that time, it became their last real conversation.

In which, a resounding victory against the QishanWen Sect is won seemingly at the cost of Wei Wuxian's life. Lan Wangji still spends some time being heavily injured. Lan Xichen tries to pick the pieces left behind by the war. The Jiang Sect is renowned thanks to the revered Wei Wuxian and the cultivation world is plagued by unknown forces while Lan Wangji meets with Wei Wuxian in his dreams.

Sacrifices Made with Blood, by NocturnalFriend, rated M

Lan Wangji knew it was too late, there was too much blood on Wei Ying's hands already. Still, if he asked his brother for help, surely. There was a way to rescue the man who held his heart?

Or: Trust is not easily given and all to easily shattered. Lan Wangji learns this in the worst way, when Lan Xichen gives into the demands of the cultivation world. Although nobody could have predicted the whims of fate, giving them another chance at righting things.

What makes you sing?, by Fictio, rated M

Madam Yu was never known for her matchmaking skills but she was known for her inherent meddling. Though it still came as a surprise, when on one fine Saturday afternoon, she called Wei Ying and set him up for a blind date.

There She Rose, by Aiiiru, rated M

Many years had passed yet whispers and gossips about YiLing Matriarch still stayed alive like unruly weeds refusing to die.

"That damn Wei Wuxian must have cursed this year's harvest with 'unkillable' locusts" "But Wei Wuxian had died right?" "Didn't you know that her body wasn't found?" "I heard some cultivators saying that during the chaos, some people saw her leaving in a sword, flying away with someone else." "That must be the demon with whom she signed a contract, a female challenging three thousand or was it five thousand cultivators by herself? Hah!! She definitely has ties with evil creatures and ghosts." "I heard from my cousin in Yunmeng that YiLing Matriarch was born shameless." "Some say she was a male but took female form to seduce the ghosts of burial mounds and gain power by starting demonic cultivation" "Shhh! Don't talk so loudly! My cousin knew a man who loudly gossiped about Yilling Matriarch only to be cursed to death the next day"

Visitations, by Vir_Abelasan, rated M

"Wei Ying-" Lan Zhan says, stutters, "I'm sorry."

And now Wei Wuxian sees it, the red rimming Lan Zhan's eyes, the rumpled edges of his blazer. There is an old, familiar urge for him to reach over, to hold Lan Zhan's hand and smooth his hair, to tell him that everything will be fine.

"We're all a bit sorry about this, I think," he says instead, and finds that he means it. For Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and everyone else in that Guanyin temple, the pain must be unbearably fresh, like skin just flayed open. But Wei Wuxian's chest had been cracked open a long time ago, his wounds licked and cauterized and sewn shut over five long years - Ever hurting, but a dull, constant ache, "It's really alright, Lan Zhan."

Five years after being accused of corporate espionage and losing everything, the Guanyin Scandal breaks open and Wei Wuxian finds a familiar face at his door.

Kiss My Wounds, Bless My Scars, by Pegunicent, rated M

When he is sixteen, Lan Wangji makes a choice. He becomes Wei Ying's bride.

Rated T:

the one where Jiang Yanli visits (and she's a fucking goddess), by ShippersList, rated T (part 4 of a series)

Wei Wuxian’s sister was a fucking goddess so it was a travesty she wasn’t being fucked like a goddess deserved.

Luo Qingyang decided to do something about it.

(Also, family feels and some plotting but that's beside the point.)

obscured in the shade of the willow, bathed in the light of the moon, by cloud_wanderer, rated T

Wei Wuxian leaves the Burial Mounds for the first time to attend his martial brother's wedding, and everything changes from there. (a.k.a. a universe in which Nie Huaisang schemes to thwart Jin Guangshan's plans and ends up saving Wei Wuxian and the Wens in the process)

Wei Wuxian meets Xiao Xingchen and helps found a sect in Yiling.

Inchoate, by Marinelifeclub, rated T

“Where would you even go once you left? Wait a few more years before leaving." persuaded Jiang Fengmian,

“Will I live to see that long?” Wei Wuxian whispered under his breath.

Jiang Fengmian felt cold at those words. He always thought his children would be the ones to heal the scars left by their mother on Wei Wuxian, but just the concise way he spoke about them, he knows that wasn’t true. Now his best friend’s son sat in front of him, confessing to not thinking he will live to see himself become a man. Cangse and Changze must be furious in their graves as the sweet smiling son they raised endured pain because of a jealous woman and a cowardly man. Sighing, he did the only thing he could to make things right and accepted the boy’s wishes.

At age 14, Wei Wuxian left Lotus Pier and never looked back.

Wei Wuxian leaves Lotus Pier and while things change something’s are just set in fate.

Here We Go Again, by Alliandra, rated T

He looked over to where the swordswoman was still fighting, but her focus seemed entirely locked onto that fight so it was unlikely that she could have had anything to do with the energy drain. He was still wracking his brain for something else to do to assist, so this thing didn’t kill them both, but now he was feeling weak, dizzy and currently not far from helpless.

~~~~~~~~~~

It has been several months since the events at the Guanyin temple and Wei Wuxian is wandering around on his own. After he helps a stranger kill a very dangerous beast he uncovers what seems to be a conspiracy aimed at ending his life. He heads back to Cloud Recesses with his new companion in tow, looking to get Lan Wanji's help in working out what is involved.

Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling made a surprising discovery under Koi Tower that may well be linked to the threat against Wei Wuxian's life.

Can they all work together to find out what is going on and put a stop to it, before something disastrous occurs?

Nie Huaisang's Ten Steps to Fix The Fucked Up Reality, by cosmic_zephyr (ProudHaikyuuTrash)

1. Find the time travel array in the Nie library 2. Convince (manipulate) Wei Wuxian to use demonic cultivation to activate the array. 3. Transmigrate to the body of your 15-year-old selves with Wei Wuxian and Survive his wrath. 4. Come up with yet another exaggerated, slightly concerning, plan to save Lotus Pier, Dafan Wens and your brother. 5. Use Empathy to make the Wen siblings side with you in the mess that is soon to come. 6. Kill the main Wen family and make Wen Qing the new leader of Qishan Wen so innocent people are not killed. 7. Annoy the hell out of Lanling Jin just for funsies and also a political statement because Jin Guangshan can suck it. 8 Preferably, just for your own sanity, find a way to kill Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao. 9. Work with Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing to solve the sabre problem of the Nie clan. 10. Live a happy life with your brother alive and the cultivation world not being the huge fucked up mess in your own time-line. P.S. Matchmake the pining pile of disaster and gay aka Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.

Aka canon divergence where Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian (and Lan Wangji) travel back in time and save the cultivation world.

Deal, by Rahar_Moonfire, rated T

Nie Huaisang wants revenge for his brother. He also wants his friend Wei Wuxian back. Lan Wangji left the Cultivation World after Wei Wuxian's death and hasn't been heard from since. It's a good thing Nie Huaisang has spies everywhere. He has everything he needs to put his plan into motion: the notes, the instructions, the "willing body," and the patience to pull it all off.

Now he just needs to be sure Wei Wuxian survives long enough to pick up Nie Huaisang's bread crumbs, solve the puzzle, and shatter the Cultivation World again. The only person suitable for that job is Black Jade of Yiling, the husband of the infamous Yiling Patriarch, Lan Wangji.

Rated G:

Hadn't gone as I planned, by hamlets_ghost, rated G (part of a series)

Lan Xichen leaves the Cloud Recesses with Wei Wuxian and Wangji to meet his mother.

He cannot stay.

[continuation of 'Hold on to your heart']

#the untamed #untamed fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #CQL #mdzs

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everamazingfe · 3 years

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Magic in the Mundane

Fic Summary: Everyone had something special about them, their own personal bit of magic. Most found out about their abilities early, but Gavin had always been a bit of a late bloomer. Luckily, Michael comes by to help him put the pieces together.

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Words in this chapter: 5521 Pairings: Gavin Free/Michael Jones Warnings for this chapter: None

Notes: Written for Kait (@uy8hg) for the RT Writer’s Discord Secret Sunshine event! All of her prompts were amazing and I spent far too long trying to decide between them, but I'm so glad that I decided to go with this one because it was so much fun to write. Check the source for a link to read it over on A 0 3!

Prompt: Someone discovers a new power or something that they find really cool, and they want to show it off to everyone else, with varying levels of success.

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In a world full of wonder, it wasn’t always easy to appreciate the beauty in the mundane, but those who had magic running through their veins found it quite simple. The way that magic would manifest itself in those people wasn’t always the same, though. Sometimes, the magic was in their personality. Jack had a warmth about him that could make anyone’s day better in a matter of seconds. Trevor’s charisma was off the charts, he was such a smooth talker that it was hard for anyone to dislike him unless they really tried. Other times, it was in their looks. Alfredo had a smile that could light up any room, big and beaming and bright enough to outshine the sun. Geoff had amazingly artistic tattoos that seemed to come alive if one looked at them a little too long (he would always deny this, but there was a gleam in his eye that made everyone think twice about his words). Sometimes, it was something else entirely. Their magic came in the form of special abilities, of genuine magic. Lindsay could speak to animals, using their skills for good a majority of the time, but otherwise causing mischief. Michael could create just as well as he could destroy, rendering entire buildings obsolete and creating new ones in their wake.

There was a little bit of magic in everything, but oftentimes there were those that couldn’t see it in themselves. That was where Gavin stood. He was a smooth talker, sure, but not as smooth as Trevor. His smile wasn’t as bright as Alfredo’s. He didn’t have any magical abilities. Though he was welcomed into their group, he didn’t feel as though he belonged. He didn’t have any magic. They insisted that he was part of their crew, magic or not, and that he was welcome, but sometimes he didn’t want their comforts. He just wanted to be left alone. It was hard enough to be the lone member of the mundane in their little crew, he didn’t want their pity points on top of it. Still, it didn’t stop them from trying to help.

“Maybe you’re just a late bloomer?” Fiona suggested to him late one evening when the sun had already set, laid out on her back on the roof of a building Michael had created just for her. Her magic was her ability to be good at anything she set her mind to, with an unwavering confidence that Gavin admired (and sometimes envied), even when it was misplaced. “Or you could just be totally oblivious to it. That’s always an option.”

He let out a soft sigh, shrugging a shoulder as he turned his head to look at her. “Someone else would’ve noticed it in me by now though, I think. Everyone has something, even if they're not the ones who see it.” Those who had magic were usually pretty good at picking it out in others. It had been how those without genuine magic had discovered theirs. How Jack had discovered his warmth, how Ky had discovered her strength, and so on.

Fiona bit her lip, going quiet. He had a point there, but she didn’t want to admit it. She hated when he was right. “Maybe your magic is just being an idiot?” There was a grin on her lips, but the way that she spoke made it sound like a genuine suggestion. Gavin couldn’t help but burst out into laughter, his and Fiona’s giggles echoing out across the landscape.

“Kind of a shitty magic, don’t you think, Fifi?” He asked finally, when his sides ached from laughing and his lungs begged for air. “I know Michael would certainly agree with you, but… I really hope that’s not it.”

“I don’t know, Gavvy. Could be. But I hope that’s not it too. I think you’re made for something a bit better than that.” Instead of pity, or jokes, she gave him a vote of confidence, and there was a little gleam that formed in Gavin’s eyes at her words.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do!

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

The day after speaking to Fiona, Gavin was still thinking about her words. Despite how good it had made him feel in the moment, they’d ended up putting him in a worse mood than usual, and it was hard for him to even begin thinking about the magic he might have held. Was he really meant for something better than the idiocy his friends assigned to him? He wasn’t sure.

He’d set out on a hike, outside of the city that they’d made for themselves and into the woods surrounding it. Some time out in nature always made him feel better, more at ease, more connected to the magic of the world around him. The small nuances on how the ecosystem worked together to thrive always intrigued him, and he was jealous of how cohesive it all could be.

“I’m just a bit too all over the place for it, I guess,” he muttered to himself, taking a seat on a fallen tree. The moss was soft beneath him, and he ran his fingers over it as he talked to himself. Working through his thoughts aloud always made them feel less jumbled.

A figure sat down beside him with a heavy sigh, and a hand was placed over his. “Don’t beat yourself too much, Gav,” Geoff said quietly, wrapping his arm around Gavin and pulling himself close. “We can’t all be something special, otherwise there wouldn’t be anything special at all.”

Gavin let out a long sigh, leaning into the gent when he was pulled in. He’d stopped asking how Geoff could find him so easily long ago. It was the same answer every time, ‘I just know where to look, you assholes aren’t exactly all that hard to find,’ said with that same glint in his eye. “Yeah, I know. But it’d be nice to be able to do something more than exist.”

Geoff hummed softly, rubbing his thumb gently over Gavin’s shoulder. It always made him feel guilty when any of his friends were upset, particularly Gavin, but he’d been so hung up on the same thing for so long. “Are you sure you don’t just want an excuse for the attention to be back on you for a change?”

The lad sat up quickly, pulling away from Geoff and cutting him a confused look. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying! Going around talking to everyone, being all mopey about not having magic? Pretty good way to get everyone to pay attention to you for a change, right?”

Gavin scoffed at the notion, pushing Geoff away from him. “That’s not what I’m doing at all!”

“Are you sure?” He asked, arching an eyebrow as Gavin stood up suddenly.

“Yes.” They’d had a few new members join their ranks, and attention was divided as they worked to expand their little city and network with others, but he hadn’t minded people paying less attention to him. If anything, he enjoyed it. It meant there was less pressure on him to perform. “Now, I’m going. And this time, you’re not allowed to search for me.”

He didn’t even know where he was going, he just wanted to go away. He wondered if that’s what everyone thought, or if Geoff was just trying to get a rise out of him. If they all thought that way, they’d certainly never said anything of the sort, but this was how people were going to treat him, Gavin didn’t want to be around them.

“What a dick,” he muttered to himself, pulling his cloak tighter around himself as he walked deeper into the forest. It was a beautiful green and gold tapestry, the hues blending together to make a simple but pleasing pattern. The threads had been hand-woven by Matt and enchanted to protect its wearer from whatever may come their way, and it did a remarkable job.

As he ventured deeper into the woods, the trees grew taller and thicker, blocking out the sun’s rays and sending a chill through the air. As the coldness began to creep in, the cloak kept him warm and made him feel safe. However, it couldn’t protect him from the turmoil inside his own mind.

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In the city center, Michael was having a different sort of crisis, and his angry shouting could be heard all across the land.

“You said what to him?!’

His relationship to Gavin was indiscernible at best, no one knew whether they were deeply in love or mortal enemies, but one thing was certain: he was fiercely protective of the fact that he was the only one allowed to bully Gavin, and anyone else could only do so with his permission. Whether they were soulmates or archnemesis, Gavin was his boi first and foremost.

“I just suggested that maybe being an idiot was his form of magic! It was funny, we were both laughing!” Fiona said, completely oblivious to the way that Michael was shooting daggers her way. Usually Michael played along with her playful teasing of Gavin, so when he didn’t continue to make jokes, she looked over. “Don’t you give me that look, you’re thinking it too.”

“I’m not, though.” Fiona scoffed, and Michael all but growled. “I’m not. You all underestimate him, and when he does find his magic, you’re going to be blown away. All of you will be.” There was a special sort of conviction to his words, one that was usually reserved for saying the most ridiculous things completely stone-faced.

Michael stormed off after that, ignoring Fiona’s demands for him to keep hanging out with her. Movement came from the bushes on the outskirts of their community, spotted just out of the corner of his eye, but his attention snapped towards it in an instant only to reveal that the movement was caused by Geoff. His eyebrows furrowed as the other tried to pretend like he wasn’t covered in burrs and twigs, like he wasn’t trying to sneak out of the brush and back into the city unnoticed.

“Do you know where Gavin is?” he asked instantly, lifting a hand swiftly to raise a dirt wall behind Geoff, who was trying to retreat back into the bushes as quickly as he’d come out of them.

“Why would I know where he is?” Geoff asked, his voice pitchy and lilted like he certainly did know where Gavin was, but also that he knew that revealing that information would get him in more trouble with Michael than not at the same time.

Michael’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward, the ground beneath his feet rumbling and propelling him like a moving walkway until he was nose to nose with Geoff. “Because you know where everyone is, you always know.”

There wasn’t fear in Geoff’s eyes, but the man’s chest rose and fell rapidly with anxious breaths. The staredown was long and tense, though he eventually relented, letting out a long sigh as the wall behind him fell. He wasn’t going anywhere. “I spoke to him in the woods maybe an hour ago, he told me that I’m not allowed to look for him, but here.” He reached into his gear, pulling out a weathered piece of parchment that was rolled and tied with a thin strip of leather. A map, one that he’d made with the same magic that lived in his tattoos, that not only held the lay of the land but also markers for everyone who lived in it. Geoff offered it to Michael, who quickly swiped it from him and unrolled it. “He never said anything about you going after him.”

The lad hummed quietly as his eyes scanned the map for the forest green marker that indicated Gavin’s name, wordlessly stepping beyond the brush and into the woods towards it.

“I don’t even get a thank you?!” Geoff cried out behind him, annoyed by the lack of gratitude. The ground beneath his feet rose suddenly, knocking him off his feet and onto the earth. He cried out, flailing his arms in an attempt to stop himself from falling, but it was futile. Michael was already gone.

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

The woods looked easy to traverse on the map, and they most likely would have been if Michael had stayed on the trails, but he opted to make a beeline towards Gavin. The terrain was rocky and there were steep cliffs off the beaten path, but it was nothing that he couldn’t handle. He could mend and mold the earth to make it easier to traverse, creating stairs along the cliff faces for an easy descent. The climate was what was really getting to him. The chill in the air was unbearable for him, only getting worse as the sun began to dip down, and he had a bear’s pelt to keep him warm. Gavin’s frame was thinner and frailer than his own, he most likely wasn’t faring any better.

He lit a torch as night fell, raising up dirt and stone walls around himself to block out the cold and keep himself safe from the nocturnal monsters around him. After jamming the torch into the wall, he unfurled his map and saw that Gavin’s marker had stopped moving and was instead spinning around in frantic circles. Evidently, he was trying to make camp for the night as well. With a swift movement of his hand, miles away on the other side of the woods, similar walls raised up around Gavin, and the marker finally stopped moving. Satisfied that his boi was safe, he settled down, wrapping his pelt around himself tightly for warmth as he laid down to sleep.

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Gavin was startled as the dirt walls rose up around him, terrified that something was trying to trap him within them, though he quickly became at ease when he realized what it meant. Geoff had listened and wasn’t going to be searching for him, but Michael was certainly looking out for him instead. The fear that came from being alone out there dissipated as he ran his fingers down the dirt, pulling out several clumps of roots and knocking bits of earth loose. Dirt walls were less than fancy, but they were a great comfort regardless.

He slept easily through the night with a newfound sense of safety, his cloak pulled tightly around himself for warmth. It worked wonders against the cold. As the sun began to rise, it didn’t emerge from the clouds, the sky grey and dreary as rain began to fall. Gavin could hear the rain hitting the tops of the trees, but even as he began to move none of the drops ever hit him. Above him, the branches of the trees bent and molded, shielding him from the downpours as he walked. No doubt this is Michael’s doing, he thought to himself, a small smile forming on his lips. No matter how much they seemed to argue, the other lad still managed to be protective of him. It was something he was always grateful for, even when the others seemed to give him shit for it.

His pace that day was slower, more leisurely now that he had calmed down some, but he still had no intentions of going back to the city. If Michael was the only one who cared enough to come for him, they could start their own city far, far away. Together. He quickly shook the thought from his mind, pushing his hood down and taking a look around. Though the trees were tall above him for now, he knew that if he just kept going they’d give way to a beautiful, grassy plain. He couldn’t wait to walk on grass again, the dirt and stones beneath him were starting to make his feet ache.

Several yards from where he’d first had that thought, he had to stop, kneeling down to untie his boots so he could re-lace them tightly. Moving slowly, he bent down, not wanting to end up with another cut on his knee from landing too hard on a rock like he’d already done far too many times this trek. But the terrain beneath his knee was soft, and as he looked down at his boot, he saw that there was soft, lush grass beneath him. Not dirt.

“What on earth?” He asked himself, brushing his fingers through it. There was some grass on the forest floor around him, but it was rough and patchy, nothing like this. “Michael’s really outdone himself this time.” With that thought, he smiled to himself before continuing to lace up his boots with deft fingers. Before he stood, he spotted a small wildflower that had bloomed among the blades , and he gently picked it and placed it behind his ear. “What a dope.”

What Gavin didn’t know was that Michael didn’t have the ability to create foliage or flowers underfoot. No one in their community did. And with each step that Gavin took, more of it sprouted up from the dirt beneath him.

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

Night fell again soon enough, and Gavin wasn’t sure where he was. He could’ve sworn that the forest gave way into plains at this point, but instead he found himself in the middle of the desert. Stupidly, he’d continued on, just in case the plains were just beyond it, though now he was too tired to turn back.

“Maybe Fiona was right,” he muttered as he sat down in the sand, digging his toes into it and wiggling them for some amusement as he propped his cloak up over himself like an umbrella. It was nighttime now, but it would be morning again soon enough. He didn’t want to end up burnt to a crisp before he even woke up. No walls came up around Gavin this time either, so it was up to him to protect himself.

Gavin leaned forward against his knees, peering up at the night sky for a few long moments. Jeremy had spent many long nights back in the city teaching him the constellations and the stars within them, though he could never tell which ones were real and which ones the lad had made up for his own amusement. Orion was certainly real, but Beauregard’s Chariot was almost certainly not. Almost. He picked that one out, finding comfort in its familiarity, before he decided it was time to get some rest. Toes still in the sand, he laid back, arms crossed beneath his head as he closed his eyes. He had been so focused on the sky that he was unaware of what was happening in the sand beneath him.

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

With Gavin’s slowed pace, Michael was able to start gaining on him. He raced through the trees with even greater speed now that he was beyond the craggy cliffs and difficult landscape, the earth moving beneath him to propel him along. By nighttime, he’d closed in on Gavin’s position, and he was stunned by what he saw.

Smack dab in the middle of the desert, where not even cacti could manage to survive due to the horrible heat and scorching sunbeams, Gavin found himself within an oasis. That same lush grass and wildflowers were no longer just underfoot, but in a wide circle around the lad, almost tall enough to completely hide him from Michael’s view. Small trees were even beginning to grow, supporting Gavin’s cloak above him in place of the flimsy sticks he’d set up before.

“Gavin?” Michael called softly, stepping forward with caution in case it was a facade, a trap of some sort. The desert was known for causing hallucinations, for preying on the hope of the desperate. That was the kind of magic it held, and it was very skillful at using it. But as he knelt down at the edge of the circle and reached forward to feel the greenery, sure enough, it was real. “What the hell? Gavin! Wake the fuck up!”

The lad sat bolt upright with a start, catching himself in his cloak and fighting it off with all the fierceness of a kitten. Sleep was still gripping him, catching him somewhere between being wide awake and deep asleep, but he was quickly coming to. “Who’s there?!” He shouted, finally tossing his cape away from himself and looking around in confusion. “Michael?” That wasn’t the last thing he expected to see out there, but it wasn’t the first either. “What are you doing here, Michael?”

It had taken everything in Michael not to laugh at the display in front of him, but he quickly wiped the smirk off his face to look offended when Gavin addressed him so incredulously. “Jeez, don’t sound so happy to see me,” he drawled, rolling his eyes before shuffling forward on his knees. “Mind telling me what all this is?” He arched an eyebrow, gesturing to the small haven among the sand.

However, Gavin had no more answers than Michael did. “I’m not… I’m not sure what it is,” he responded earnestly, glancing between it and the other lad before reaching for his cloak. “I thought you were doing it. You’re not?” Michael shook his head fervently, and Gavin only frowned as he pulled the garment on. “Then who is?”

Michael shrugged a shoulder, humming a soft ‘I don’t know’ before standing, stalking around the mysterious growth. This wasn’t anything that anyone he knew could do, and when he tried to make it happen himself, all he could do was raise the earth itself. He couldn’t make anything grow from it. Which left only one option…

“Come here,” he said suddenly, and Gavin looked at him like he’d asked him to do something insane. “Stand up! Get the hell over here!” When there was still no movement from him, Michael reached forward, hauling Gavin to his feet and yanking him out of the circle. Sure enough, grass sprouted up beneath the lad’s feet, extending the circle and connecting it to wherever he stepped. “Holy shit… Gavin! Look!”

Gavin had thought that Michael was angry at him, scolding him, but the tone of his voice was nothing but excited. Thrilled, even. He followed Michael’s gaze down to his feet, but he wasn’t quick enough to put the pieces together like the other had. “This happened to me back in the forest too! I don’t know what’s going on!”

“You’ve found your magic, that’s what’s going on!” Michael was practically screaming, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking at Gavin with a big beaming grin. “You can make stuff grow! That’s incredible!”

That made things click for Gavin, finally, and his grin ended up matching Michael’s. “I can make stuff grow!” Geoff was going to be blown away, everyone was. He wondered if Michael would be okay with them going back to the city immediately, they’d be able to get there by morning thanks to his abilities. “Fiona was right!”

The other bristled immediately, his grin turning to a frown in a fraction of a second. “Fiona was… Right?” She’d told Gavin that his magic was being stupid, that his special ability was being an idiot. This certainly wasn’t that, not by a long shot. “Gavin, this isn’t stupid. This is awesome! Fiona wasn’t right.”

“What? What are you on about? No, she… She said I was made for something better than what everyone else thought. And she was right! Oh, and she’s had such shit luck getting flowers to grow at her place too, no wonder!” Gavin threw his arms around Michael’s neck, wrapping him in a tight hug that was fueled by nothing but pure glee, and he could only hug him back just as tight. “We have to get back there, immediately. Everyone is going to be so jealous, Michael-boi.”

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

Some proper rest would’ve been a great benefit to them both, but Gavin had insisted that they return to the city as quickly as possible. The moving ground beneath their feet made it a relatively quick task, and Michael had managed to find a well-worn trail that made it even easier. They were back in the city by sunrise, and while the excitement had died down in Michael to give way to sleepiness, Gavin was no less giddy. Probably because he’d climbed on Michael’s back at one point and managed a small nap. Lucky bastard, Michael had thought to himself when he’d heard the soft snoring in his ear, but he hadn’t woken him up.

“Michael. Stop here, Michael,” Gavin urged, nearly losing his balance as the dirt beneath him ground to a halt suddenly. They were just outside the city, inside the same bushes that Geoff had attempted to sneak out of a few days prior, hidden from view as residents began to leave their houses to begin their tasks for the day. “I’m gonna get on your back-“

“You’re not taking another fucking nap,” Michael interjected, and the other huffed and waved him off.

“No! I’m gonna get on your back so I can do a grand reveal, you dolt. The flowers appear when I step, and if I step too soon the surprise will be ruined!”

“Hey, assholes!” Jeremy’s voice boomed across the city center, no doubt hearing the commotion, and Gavin quickly began to scramble onto Michael’s back.

“Ow! Watch it, you’re gonna knock off my glasses! Stop!” Michael huffed, swatting at Gavin’s hands as they reached for purchase anywhere they could. He stepped out of the bushes once he was settled, looking annoyed while the lad on his back was nothing but gleeful. “Hey, Lil J! I rescued our favorite dumbass. You’re welcome.”

Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh as Gavin let out a little ‘hello!’ and waved, though he was curious about why the other was on Michael’s back. It wasn’t unlike Gavin to demand piggy-back rides. Though normally once Jeremy was in view, he made it his mission to climb onto his shoulders instead. “Gav, are you hurt? What’s going on?” He stepped up with caution, ready to call for help if needed. Injuries weren’t uncommon, but if Gavin needed to be carried, it must’ve been serious.

“No, the asshole’s not hurt. Not yet, at least. He’s just got a surprise for you,” Michael assured, rolling his eyes. “For everyone, actually. Do me a favor and ring the bell? They’re gonna want to be here for this.”

An eyebrow shot up, but Jeremy was quick to comply with the request. He crossed the city center, grabbing the rope and pulling it once, twice, three times to signal that it was a meeting of utmost importance, but not one that brought bad news. When the bell rang three times, it meant that there were good things to come.

Soon, all of the residents of the city were there, eagerly awaiting to learn the reason for this meeting. Very rarely did the bell ring thrice, and there were hushed whispers and guesses of what was to come. They all fell silent when Michael, with Gavin still on his back, stepped forward.

“I’ve found my magic,” Gavin announced, savoring the look on everyone’s faces as they processed that announcement. Particularly Geoff’s, whose face was twisted into one of apologetic guilt. A sense of satisfaction bubbled up inside of him at that. And of course Fiona was delighted, jumping up and down and pumping her fists, shouting ‘I knew it!’ before she even knew what Gavin’s magic was. It didn’t matter to her. Alfredo and Trevor were also excited, but only because their beloved Dusk Boy had finally joined their ranks, though Jack and Matt simply looked skeptical. He couldn’t blame them, really. Why now? Why did it take so long for him to find it? Those were the questions behind their eyes, and Gavin wished that he had answers for them.

When he felt like he’d let the suspense hang in there air for long enough, he stepped down. For a moment, nothing happened. Matt was about to open his mouth to complain about being dragged out of bed for a grand display of nothing. And then, all at once, a beautiful display of lush grass and flowers appeared at his feet. The more he focused on it, the bigger it grew and the more beautiful it became. No longer was it simply wildflowers, either. In the hours of their journey, he realized he could control the types of flowers that grew. He opted for sunflowers this time. Everyone knew that they were his favorite. It was proof that the magic was his, and not anyone else’s pretending to be his.

The reactions were mixed, and Gavin deflated a little as several people seemed unimpressed and walked off to return to their duties. It wasn’t the most spectacular power in the world, he knew that, but it was his and he liked it. That was what mattered to him. There wasn’t much time for him to mope though, as Fiona quickly rushed him, wrapping him in a hug and lifting him off his feet.

“Gavin!” she shouted, stepping back to inspect the flowers closer. She plucked a few blades of grass, feeling them between her fingers. After a few seconds, she gasped, her eyes lighting up. “You can help me grow flowers at my place!”

Gavin laughed, nodding quickly and beaming at her. He could always trust her to cheer him up. “I can, yeah. No wonder you’ve not been able to grow anything.”

“Yeah, cause you stole my green thumb! That’s hardly my fault.”

“Oh, I dunno about that. You should’ve been keeping a closer eye on it.”

They bickered back and forth, Michael watching with a tired but fond smile, until Fiona decided that she’d had enough and thumped Gavin on the side of the head before racing off. The lad was too exhausted to follow, so he just stepped over to Michael, the foliage underfoot following him as he went. Everyone else came up to congratulate him in time, Geoff doing that and apologizing for the harshness of his words in one awkward convoluted mess that Michael wasn’t even sure was an apology, but Gavin understood what the gent was trying to say. He’d learned to decode Geoff Speak over the years.

Still, the person whose opinion Gavin valued the most was Michael’s, and once the excitement had died down and they’d retreated to their homes to rest, Michael stopped by to give it.

“I’m real proud of you, Gav,” he said, making himself comfortable on the bed next to the lad without a second thought.

“Proud of me?” he asked, snatching his blankets back from the lad as he tried to steal them. Michael always did this to him.

“Yeah. Proud of you. For putting up with the bullshit and finding your magic. Even if it was a total accident.” Michael snorted out a soft laugh and smiled, crossing his arms beneath his head and looking over at the other. “You just lucked into it, just like you lucked into everything else.”

“Including you?” Gavin arched an eyebrow as he met the other’s gaze, desperately wanting to wipe that smug look off his face.”

“Especially me, are you kidding?” That comment earned him a gentle smack to the chest, a kiss to the cheek, and a mutter of ‘I’m going to make a tree grow through your damn house.’

To everyone else, their relationship was indiscernible at best. But Michael and Gavin knew exactly what they were to each other, they didn’t need anyone else in their business about it. They were partners. Not just in life and love, but in their magic as well. As he learned how to hone and control his abilities, Gavin would decorate the city and beautify the buildings that Michael had created. And once he had mastered his skills, Michael began to create buildings specifically for Gavin to embellish. Dirt roofs became his signature style, the gravity-defying feature held together by the roots of the flowers that Gavin planted into them. The city had never looked better, and even those who were initially unimpressed by Gavin’s abilities had to admit that it was perfectly suited to him. He took great pride in rubbing it in their faces.

Gavin was happy to not be a member of the mundane anymore. His spirits were higher, and he felt more useful to the city. His abilities, with more practice, extended beyond flowers and grass and into fruit and vegetable plants. The magic that Gavin held could sustain them all.

But Gavin had always held magic within him, in Michael’s eyes. He had never been mundane. That gleam in his eye when he got another crazy idea to cause chaos was nothing if not supernatural, and his ability to find the fun in even the most boring of situations had proven to be valuable time and time again. It just hadn’t been the form of magic that Gavin had always desired, so he never took note of it despite it always being there. Michael was just glad he could finally see it in himself too.

#ragehappy #rpf #mavin #oneshot #magic au #secret sunshine #secret sunshine event #fic #my fic #my writing #everamazingfe

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trashyswitch · 3 years

Text

How Does a Skeleton Work Exactly?

The Sequel to 'Can a Skeleton be Ticklish?'.

Arial had been tickled by some of the sides a couple weeks back, and was now playing a casual card game. But things quickly get competitive and unfair. Virgil eagerly decides to use his new knowledge on Arial and her love for tickling to tease her. Janus and Remus quickly join in and ticklish chaos breaks loose.

This sequel was suggested by @smileheart110. Here you go! And of course, please let me know if I got your character wrong or inaccurate. I will happily fix it for you.

I hope you enjoy!

Arial was sitting at the table with the dark sides and playing Spoons. Remus was being a bit of an evil cheater, and Arial was growing determined to catch him red-handed. Not literally though...That would be awkward…

“Look at how fast I’m going…So speedy...” Janus said with no expression. Arial looked over at Janus, and bursted out laughing: Janus was desperately trying to move a bunch of the cards over to Remus, while more cards piled up on top of the pile he was sorting through. It was an endless pile and you could tell, Janus was having none of it.

Arial was so close to getting all four Jacks in her hand. She was quickly shuffling through to find the last one. 5 heart, 10 spade, 7 spade, King diamond, Ace heart, 2 club-

Janus quickly grabbed a spoon first. Virgil, who immediately noticed him, grabbed a spoon next. Arial looked up, and grabbed the last spoon by the handle. But Remus had grabbed the end of the same spoon!

“No! It’s mine!” Remus yelled.

“I grabbed it first!” Arial shot back. “Let go!”

“Only if you let go~” Remus teased.

Virgil summoned himself some popcorn. “Let’s see how long this goes for.”

“12 seconds? Or 12 years?” Janus asked.

Virgil chuckled at that. “How about 5 minutes?”

“Remus you’re being ridiculous!” Arial yelled.

Janus wheezed. “And Arial’s not being ridiculous whatsoever.”

“Yeah Re- HEY!” Arial shouted. “How dare! Why don’t you fix this instead of making fun of us.”

Janus threw his hands up in the air. One of his hands had his own spoon in it. “Hey now...It’s not like I grabbed the spoon first and started this cycle or anything…”

“Yeah, you started it. So finish it.” Arial shot back at Janus.

“Fine.” Janus leaned back and took a handful of Virgil’s popcorn. Then, he started to obnoxiously chew.

Arial groaned. “You’re not doing anything!” She reacted.

Janus lifted up his hand full of popcorn. “Yes I am. I’m eating popcorn.” Janus replied, his mouth somewhat full.

Arial growled and kicked Janus’s foot under the table.

Virgil looked up and crossed his arms. “One of you could easily resolve this by letting go of the spoon. It’s just a game.” Virgil mentioned.

“Yeah! A game I’m determined to win!” Arial shot back.

Remus chuckled and smirked at her. “A little reminder that you’re only made of bone.” Remus mentioned as he poked her forearm. “I could easily break it.” Remus told her.

Arial widened her eyes. “You would’t...” She warned.

Virgil widened his eyes and frowned. “Remus, no.”

“Oooooh, but Remus yes!” Remus replied.

“If you so much as crack my arm, I am going to kick my bony toes right into your crotch.” Arial threatened.

Virgil and Janus both made pain-filled reactions. Virgil made a cringe-filled hiss, while Janus squished his face and muttered a low “Ooooooh...Yikes.”

Janus crossed his arms and cleared his throat. “Remus, breaking her arm would not benefit anyone. It’s an unnecessarily painful thing to intentionally do to someone, especially because of a card game. You would hurt her greatly, and she’ll hate you throughout the healing process.” Janus warned.

Remus shrugged his shoulders. “I guess you’re right.”

“On top of that, we would be down a player for the rest of the afternoon...and the rest of the month.” Janus added. “And we totally DeSpIsE when Arial is over for game night.” Janus mentioned.

Arial smiled and covered her face. “Awww!”

“Alright alright! I get it. No breaking her bone.” Remus said back. “I wasn’t actually gonna do it. It was just a threat. Just like how Arial threatened to turn my balls into smushed meatballs with her foot.” Remus added.

“Alright Remus we get it.” Virgil muttered.

Then, Virgil looked at Arial and smirked a little. “Breaking her bones is off the table. But you do bring up a good point, Janus…” Virgil stood up and walked behind Arial. “She does feel many things despite looking like she doesn’t have nerves.” Virgil added with a hint of evil mischief showing up in his voice.

Arial widened her eyes and grew worried. “Whaaat are you planning…” Arial warned.

“Nothing, I swear.” Virgil replied. “I’m just-”

“Liar! You’re gonna sabotage my victory!” Arial yelled.

Virgil shook his head and lifted her up by the armpits. “I’m just picking you up.”

Arial blinked and looked down a little, confused and tense. “Why are you-”

Arial suddenly squeaked and lifted her knees up to her chest. Virgil’s smirk grew wider. “What? A little ticklish?” He asked as he skittered his pinkies on her bony armpit. Arial laid her head against her left shoulder and started to grow a lopsided smile. “Vihihirge- NOHO!”

“Ooooh...What an unexpected turn of events…” Janus reacted softly.

“Whaaat? I’m just holding you, I swear.” Virgil reacted calmly.

“Nohoho yohohohou’re nahahat! Yohohohou’re tihihicklihihing mehehe with yohohour nihimble fihihihingehehers!” Arial reacted.

Virgil hummed in almost a hurt kind of tone, and looked at his pinky. “Are they really that nimble?” Virgil asked.

Arial nodded her head.

Remus laughed at that. “Have you seen your own fingers, sweet pea? You’ve got the most nimble fingers out of all of us!” Remus reacted as he grabbed Arial’s ring finger. “Just look at these! They have no meat on-”

Remus ended up pulling a bit too hard, causing Arial’s full finger to fall right off the joint. Arial widened her eyes as she saw only her ring finger’s knuckle left on her hand. “You pulled-”

Virgil let out a loud shout and dropped Arial onto the ground. He fled backwards as quickly as he could, and covered his mouth. “REMUS YOU IDIOT!”

Remus yelped and dropped the finger and the spoon. The moment her finger smacked on the ground, Arial grunted and closed an eye. “Ow…” Arial knelt down and picked up her finger and the spoon. “Guys it’s-”

“Why did you do that?! SHE CAN’T REATTACH THAT NOW!” Virgil shouted. “NOT WITHOUT A DOCTOR!”

Remus put his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know her nimble fingers were capable of falling off that easily!” Remus reacted back.

“She’s a skeleton. It’s not like she has muscles or skin on her fingers. If she did, her fingers wouldn’t pop off as easily from a light pull.” Janus added.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Remus yelled back at Janus.

“We need to call 911 now!” Virgil shouted as he whipped out his phone.

“GUYS!”

Everyone stopped yelling and turned to the source of the overpowering voice. Arial had her finger flipped up at them. But...it wasn’t the middle finger. It was the ring finger!

Wait...How did the ring finger get back onto her hand?!

Virgil was the first to point at the finger. “How-”

Arial smiled. “It’s okay. Removing the joint doesn’t hurt me.” Arial demonstrated by removing the finger from her knuckle again. It didn’t even make a pop sound like bone joints normally do when they separate slightly. Arial showed them every angle of her separated digit. “Not only that:” Arial curled her finger in as well, and uncurled it with no trouble despite it still being separated from her hand. “I can move it too. Weird, right?” Arial added.

Virgil was visibly tense upon seeing the digit move on its own like it was from a horror game. Virgil looked like he was actually gonna scream again, but quickly covered his own mouth with his hand.

Janus had calmed down and even started to smile. “Interesting. Logan totally wouldn’t experiment on you for hours if you told him.” Janus joked.

Arial chuckled at that and reattached the finger. “That’s not the only joint I can detach…” Arial gently pulled on her hand and watched with a smile as the hand and wrist bits detached from her lower forearm. Arial held up her hand and waved at them with her 4 fingers. “Cool, right?”

Remus was ecstatic! “Can I hold the hand?! Please please please please PRETTY PLEEEEAAAASE?” Remus begged.

Arial burst out laughing and handed her free hand to him. Remus felt the hand excitedly, and manipulated it carefully. Arial clenched her teeth slightly to prevent from giggling. His small pokes and prods tickled her a little.

She mentally let out a breath of relief when Remus moved onto creating symbols with her hand. “Look!” Remus started showing off the middle finger he had made from her hand with clear pride in his eyes. “It’s a boney fuck you!” Remus declared.

Janus let out a breath of relief. “I thought you were gonna say something else…”

Arial laughed at Remus’s joking around. But her laughter quickly halted as she felt herself get lifted up. It was Virgil! “Up we go, you little trickster.” Virgil declared.

Arial giggled and wrapped her arms around Virgil. “Am I really that humerus?” Arial asked.

Virgil raised an eyebrow and grew a grin. “Think you’re such a witty bone-fied genius?” Virgil asked.

“Tibia-honest, yes.” Arial replied.

“That’s it!” Virgil threw Arial onto the couch. Arial laughed at his unusual reaction as she landed on the soft cushions. But all her laughter paused the moment Virgil grabbed her ankle. “Since I know your joints can be harmlessly pulled off you, I can do this:'' Virgil removed Arial’s foot and ran away with it. Arial let out a super high-pitched shriek and reached out. “HEY! YOU MEANIE- OHOHO FAHAHAHAHA!” Arial immediately fell back laughing hysterically as her foot was attacked mercilessly.

“Nimble fingers, and flat feet! What a fun mix!” Virgil reacted. Then, Virgil pointed to Janus and Remus. “Any of you want the second foot? It’s free for the taking.” Virgil told them.

“IHIHIS NAHAHAT!” Arial yelled back.

“Are you sure? She might not want this.” Janus mentioned.

Virgil giggled at that. “Trust me: she loves being tickled.” Virgil told them.

Janus grinned widely upon that news. “Make that surprise número dos!” Janus said in part spanish.

“I CALL DIBS!” Remus shouted as he ran to her foot. “Mine!” Remus pulled on the foot and accidentally got her ankle as well! “Oops...Welp, more to tickle!” Remus declared.

“AAAH! WAIT-” Arial was immediately shut up by Remus’s weirdly soft skittering fingers. UHUHUNFAHAHAHAIR! AHAHAHAHAHA!” Arial shouted as she kicked her legs to cope with the strong tickles.

“Hey...Hey Remus...Is her ankle ticklish?” Janus asked.

Remus paused his tickling and decided to try it. “Let’s see…” Remus started gently skittering and scratching on the different sides of her ankle.

“EEEEEEHEHEHEhehehehehe! REEHEheheheheEHEHEHE NOHOhohoHOHOHohoho!” Arial begged.

“No, her ankles are totally not ticklish.” Janus replied. “Not ticklish at aaaaall…”

Remus smirked as he detached the ankle and handed it to Janus. “Here: Free tickle spot!” Remus said.

Janus smiled. “Wonderful. Her laughter is totally not the cutest thing in the world, and definitely not worth ending the game over.” Janus replied as he started tickling her ankle.

Arial rolled around all over the couch as she giggled and laughed. This was SO unfair! And yet...The best scenario to ever take place! It would be even CRAZIER if Fluffymary read this fanfic and drew fanart for it. If they did, Arial would surely die of the embarrassment from her lee mood.

The moment Virgil went up to scritch on Arial’s toes, she was done for. She shook her head around like a bobble head and let out her first snort!

Remus grew super excited at the sound. “SHE SNORTS!”

“Hmm...I sense there’s more to her anatomy than meets the eye.” Janus added.

“...Janus...You are currently tickling a girl with no visible Larynx or vocal cords, no visible tongue and no eyeballs…” Virgil mentioned.

Arial’s laughter only went up an octave after Virgil’s comment! The emo was completely right! The only thing she really lacked was a stomach!

Soon, the boys gave her a break. Arial went limp against the couch and breathed heavily to get her endurance leveled out. Janus handed Remus the skeleton’s separated ankle and watched Remus connect the ankle and foot together again. Then, Remus handed Arial her foot back.

“Tha…*huff* Thank you Re...Remus.” she replied.

Virgil handed her the other foot and gave her a glass of water with it as well. Arial drank some of the water, and looked up at Virgil and Remus. “Hey you two: look.” Arial separated her big toe from her right foot and dropped it into the water.

Virgil looked down awkwardly, quickly growing uncomfortable with the thought of soggy bone. Remus looked closer at the bone and noticed it was turning more yellow than white. “Why is it yellow-y white now?” Remus asked.

“Because it’s wet now. That’s what wet bone looks like. Because my bones are alive yet not engulfed in wet layers, my bones go more and more white from exposure.” Arial explained.

Remus hummed curiously and poked his finger between two of the ribs. “Am I able to-”

“OhoHOHOHOhohohokahahahay...Ihihi dihihid NOHOHOT expehect thahahat!” Arial admitted.

“Sorry Arial. I wanted to see if I could fit my fingers through your ribs.” Remus told her bluntly.

Arial chuckled with her eyebrow raised. They’re so weird. After a bit of thought, Arial lifted up her shirt and watched Remus bring his finger over to her rib spaces.

Remus started to put his fingers through the different rib spaces that were lower and more safe to touch. Remus discovered he could fit his pinky and ring finger through her ribs! But his thumb and index finger were too big for her rib spaces. All of it tickled enough to make her giggle through the whole thing.

Arial had to watch and feel every ticklish move Remus made with his hands and wiggly fingers. The anticipation was both anxiety-inducing, yet adrenaline-rising! She couldn’t figure out if she liked all the excitement, or didn’t like the unpredictability. Remus could strike at any given moment. Remus could easily change his mind and start full-blown tickling her in a surprise attack. But even his unintentional tickling was still tickling her.

Remus’s moving through her ribs would move quicker and turn more intense, before slowing back down. It was SOOO EEEVIL!

“OHOKAHAHAY! Thahahat’s ehehenohohough!” Arial decided, pulling her shirt down and giggling up a storm. “Nohoho mohohohore guihinea pihihig time.”

“Well that didn’t take long at all!” Remus reacted.

“Well how would you feel if you had fingers wiggling in between your sensitive ribs?” Virgil started skittering and digging his fingers into Remus’s ribs. He made sure to pay particular attention to the Duke’s rib spaces.

“aaAAAHAHAHAHAHA! VIHIHIRGILYOUFUCKING AHAHAHAHAHASS!” Remus shouted at him.

“Sorry Remus! I wanted to see if I could fit my fingers through your ribs!” Virgil teased as he continued to ‘attempt’ to fit his fingers through Remus’s muscle-covered ribs. “Oh wait! You have muscles and skin!” Virgil acted. “That means you’re eleven moooore ticklish!” Virgil started massaging Remus’s ribs and ab muscles next. Remus had a particularly tight core. For some people, this would make massaging it more painful. But for Remus, this made Remus more ticklish beyond belief!

Remus quickly flopped to the ground and landed smack dab onto his right shoulder and hip. Thankfully, it didn’t really hurt that much. Virgil knelt down, and just kept on skittering and massaging his fingers into the abs and lower ribs of the Duke of Stinkyton. Remus had completely lost his composure and was now laughing hysterically below the emo.

Oh my, how the tables have turned.

Arial happily watched the new tickle fight while sitting on the couch with her glass of water. She had started to finish her last gulp of water when something rock-like and hard, smacked into her nose hole.

Ow...What was that- Oh…

Arial picked it up and chuckled to herself as she held the soggy toe in her finger and thumb. With one last bit of toeless water, Arial put the cup down, dried her wet toe on her shirt and put the big toe back onto her foot. There. Now she’s all together again.

Let me rephrase that: She’s all TOE-gether again.

#fluff #male-female friendships #playing cards #competition #teasing #surprises #skeleton puns #skeleton anatomy #ticklefic #ler!virgil #ler!janus #switch!remus #lee!arial #female oc #oc made by someone else

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kurokoros · 4 years

Photo

cat out of the bag | masterlist

Chapter One: dial back the thirst

Two teams; one bitter rivalry. As manager of the Karasuno college volleyball team, you probably shouldn’t be seeing Kuroo, the Nekoma captain. How long can you keep the cat in the bag before your team finds out?

AN: Full 2K scene under the cut! Enjoy! Fingers crossed that I get the next part out on Wednesday to make up for not posting this on Friday!

Honestly, you should have expected Bokuto’s “casual” party to be anything but. Even with Fukurodani’s level-headed setter present, the volleyball team easily fed on Bokuto’s chaotic nature, and it wasn’t long before some of the first years got into the alcohol, much to Kaori’s chagrin. Though you came with Kaori and Yukie, it didn’t take long for the three of you to split apart, with Yukie disappearing with her boyfriend and Kaori relegated to playing babysitter for the rest of the night.

You aren’t sure how you ended up talking to Akaashi, exactly, but you can’t complain.

Taking another sip of your own drink, you hurriedly slip your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the frantic buzzing from the group chat asking you more about your “sexy mystery man” as Yukie put it. As you fiddle with the sleeve of your Fukurodani sweatshirt (courtesy of Yukie for spilling whatever ungodly concoction of fruit punch, tequila, and other trace amounts of alcohol Bokuto came up with all over your own jacket), you cast a glance around the room. You try to be subtle, but your nonchalance crumbles as soon as your eyes latch onto the aforementioned stupidly hot volleyball player.

Lingering a little too long on the firm muscles revealed by his short-sleeves, heat prickles across your skin when those hazel, cat-like eyes lock with yours as if he’d already been staring at you. The right side of his mouth curls into a pleased smirk. He straightens to his full height, towering over his friend standing beside him. And then he winks.

You almost choke on your drink.

Beside you, Akaashi snorts, and you catch him mid-eyeroll as your gaze snaps back to him. Shit, if he saw what just happened, he’ll never let you live it down. The Fukurodani vice-captain doesn’t look at you though. Instead, his attention is locked on his phone as he types out a quick response to whoever is texting him--probably Bokuto sending him drunk memes again. You quirk a brow, but don’t ask.

Suddenly, his expression shifts from fond annoyance to something serious. Akaashi glances across the room, lips pressed into a stern line. You can’t be sure who he’s looking at in the packed room, but your attempt to follow his gaze leads you right back to the mystery man that you’ve been casually staring at since he first walked through the door. Hazel eyes shift between you and Akaashi curiously, and his smirk widens as he turns back to his phone.

“Something wrong?” you ask Akaashi, who’s now staring at his phone in exasperation as another text comes through. You nudge him with your shoulder, taking another sip of your drink.

Dark blue eyes glance at you. “Not yet,” he tells you cryptically, stuffing his phone back into his pocket without responding to the text. Sighing, he mutters something under his breath that you don’t catch.

Your brows furrow at his bizarre answer, and you lower your cheap, plastic cup in order to send him a look, but he just waves you off and crosses his arms over his chest. Before you can press the subject, Akaashi rolls his eyes, looking past you at someone else. “Kuroo,” he greets with a nod.

Glancing up at the new arrival, your breath catches when you find a pair of eyes you’re quickly becoming familiar with staring right back at you. If you’d still been drinking, you think you would have choked for real this time. Hot volleyball boy is even more attractive up close, which you, frankly, didn’t think could be possible. He’s even taller than you thought, lean with broad shoulders, and damn it’s a little embarrassing how quickly your gaze drops to his arms, but the way he rakes his fingers through his messy hair only emphasizes his biceps.

You practically rip your eyes away from him, but it’s too late.

Kuroo’s lips curve upwards at the edges like he knows exactly what you’re thinking, grin lazy in a way that has a slow shiver rolling down your spine. There’s no way to play it off like you were doing anything but checking him out--which you totally blame on Bokuto’s godawful mixed drinks--but you can’t really feel ashamed when he’s eyeing you just as much interest. He lingers on you for just a second too long before turning back to your surly companion.

“Kaashi. How ya doin’ buddy?” Kuroo glances at you pointedly again, clearly trying to get Akaashi to introduce you, and you bite your lip to muffle your laughter as Akaashi just stares back in annoyance, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else right now.

Without bothering to reply to Kuroo, Akaashi turns to you and places a hand on your head. You huff as he ruffles your hair. “I’m going to look for Bokuto,” he tells you as you swat his hand away. Amusement curls at the corner of his mouth, but it’s gone as soon as he turns back to the other man. “Behave.” It’s a warning if you’ve ever heard one.

Kuroo’s smirk widens. “Have fun!” he calls after Akaashi, who pretends not to hear him as he slips into the crowd in search of his not-boyfriend. You snort into your drink, rolling your eyes at his retreating frame, and that’s when Kuroo glances down at you again. There’s something like mischief in his eyes. “So,” he starts casually, “do you have eleven protons? Cause you’re so-dayum fine.”

It shouldn’t be funny. Really, it shouldn’t. But something about the way he says it so nonchalantly has an embarrassing giggle slipping from you. That only makes him look more pleased, and an amused sound pulls from the back of his throat as he introduces himself properly.

You tell him your name as well, unable to stop the smile from overtaking you. “So, is that how you introduce yourself to everyone?” you ask, fiddling with your empty cup. Slowly, you glance around the crowded room, searching for Yukie or Kaori, but it isn’t long before you’re staring up at Kuroo unabashedly again, some unexplainable magnetic pull making you want to lean in closer.

The question makes his lips twitch. Kuroo leans back against the wall beside you, gaze lazy and playful as he looks back at you. “Not always,” he admits, making you snort softly. “My friend Yaku kind of goaded me into it. Said I should stop staring and talk to you.”

“Did he?” You bite back a stupid smile.

Kuroo chuckles and reaches up to run a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah. I believe his exact words were to go talk to the pretty girl with Akaashi, because my staring was ‘gross and obnoxious,’ ” he quotes, making a face. Something in his expression shifts as he glances at you. A little softer than before. A little nervous.

You don’t miss a beat, nodding in understanding. “Ah, one of those friends. I think Akaashi was getting ready to say something similar to me.”

“Akaashi does have a way with words doesn’t he?” he jokes.

“Oh, absolutely.” Shoving away from the wall, you come to stand in front of him, head cocked to one side as you look him over again, again lingering on the lean muscle lining his arms. Kuroo preens under the attention, back straightening and eyes lighting up as you lean in a little closer than necessary. “So, do you have more pick-up lines on standby, or are you not as charming as you look?” It’s bolder than anything you’d usually say, but you’re two drinks in and he’s hot, so you might as well shoot your shot.

You didn’t think his smirk could get any wider, but it does. “Well I could tell you one about gravity, but it might make you fall for me.”

Snorting, you roll your eyes and reach for another cup of Bokuto’s mixed drinks sitting on a nearby table. Even still, you can feel your face heating up from the silly pick-up line. “Oh come on, you can do better than that,” you tease back, goading him.

You bring the rim of the cup to your lips, eyes locked on his as you take a slow drink. Kuroo watches you, wetting his lips. “You sure you wanna play that game, kitten?”

The petname makes your breathing hitch; he notices. “Definitely.”

You don’t know how long you spend talking to Kuroo, just that doing so is incredibly easy. Easier than it should be, considering you’ve just met, but it helps that you have friends in common. It’s strange that you’ve never met before now, considering he’s friends with Bokuto and has to be a volleyball player. There’s no way that he isn’t. And you’re so sure that you would have recognized him if you’d seen him before, but the thought slips away from you by the time you finish your next drink.

Kuroo is just as charming as you expected, teasing you with silly pick-up lines that wouldn’t work coming from anyone but him, but silly, too. He croons along with the songs playing over the speakers, and tells you about the stupid things he and Bokuto got up to in high school. At one point he slips into a tangent about some chemistry theory that you don’t understand, but the way his eyes light up more than makes up for your confusion.

He’s a dork. An incredibly sexy dork, but still a dork. And you end up cuddled up next to him on the couch downstairs as the party starts to wind down, your limbs heavy and sleep starting to tug at your senses. Your legs are tossed over his lap, head on his shoulder, and Kuroo doesn’t seem to be complaining in the slightest.

“Okay, okay,” you giggle, leaning further into his chest as you peek up at him. “What’s the worst sciency pick-up line you know?”

He hums. “Worst as in bad or nasty?”

“Surprise me.”

He thinks about it for a minute, brows furrowed as his head lolls back against the couch. Two long, calloused fingers idly stroke the bare skin of your shoulder where his arm is wrapped loosely around you. You shift against his chest to watch his lips twitch as he finds an answer. “If I was an endoplasmic reticulum, how would you want me: smooth or rough?”

And you crack up. “Has that ever worked?”

“Fuck no!” Kuroo sends you a look, chuckling himself. “The only other person I’ve ever told that one to is my friend Kenma. I’ve never seen anyone more disgusted.”

After your laughter dies down, you manage to ask the question that’s been swimming at the forefront of your mind since you first saw him across the room. “So how long have you been playing volleyball?”

He quirks a brow. “How do you know I play volleyball?”

Snorting, you gesture vaguely around the now half-empty room. “Aside from this being a party hosted by the boy’s volleyball team? You look the type.”

“Yeah?” You can hear the smile in his voice. “How’s that, kitten?” he asks, reaching for his drink.

“Your thighs,” you admit bluntly, and Kuroo chokes on his drink, eyes wide as they snap to you. “Definitely your thighs.” And then, because there’s no way you’re sober right now, you punctuate this statement by reaching down and grabbing one of said thighs, giving the firm muscle a gentle pat that turns into more of a cheeky squeeze.

Kuroo looks at you like he isn’t sure whether to be amused or shocked, but his smirk shifts into something softer. “You’re drunk, huh?”

You nod. “Absolutely.”

Chuckling, he shakes his head. The fingers that have been absentmindedly stroking your arm come to a stop as you curl into his side and close your eyes. “Do you need me to find one of your friends?” Kuroo’s voice is quiet, his breath warm against your ear.

“No.” You shake your head, effectively nuzzling closer to him without realizing it. “Stay.”

He does.

Taglist: OPEN

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro smau #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu smau #fic: cat out of the bag

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multifandomthoughts · 4 years

Text

Picture Perfect

Requested by: @aspergerhero

Word Count: 1,285 words

Triggers: None!

Synopsis: You’re the newest member of the Straw Hats, and it’s taken a little while for the rest of the crew to warm up to you. All except her... Nico Robin. But when the pursuit of your talent happens to cross paths with her own interests, that all changes... Now later down the line, you want to use your camera to spend a little quality time with Robin. If only the rest of the crew would stay out of the way...

Author’s Note: This is my first ever large fic (something over a thousand words) and I’m so happy with how it came out! It took a while to complete but I hope y’all like it!

The devil child: Nico Robin. One would think from that epitaph that she would be a monster; someone with large horns or something that would constitute “devil child.” But nope, she is the last of her kind, a caring, kindhearted and often morbid person. She is a tall, thin and intelligent being, traits fit for an archeologist.

You knew the first day you had seen her that something special was going to happen between the two of you. Your new captain, Luffy, had admired your resolve and had pretty much demanded (in his own special way) that you join the crew. You had always had a dream of taking pictures of all the islands you could, to document the world just in case something happened. The crew welcomed you with open arms of course, but it seemed like the mysterious woman with long black hair and sunglasses was avoiding you at first.

It was no wonder she was avoiding you. It was when you had learned her past that it all had made sense. After speaking with the others over time, you had learned the truth; the horrible truth. She was the last of her people; the island of Ohara had been destroyed, her friends and family gone, and she had been hunted down just for the fact that she was the lone survivor. And then the water 7 incident; where she sacrificed her life so the rest of the straw hats could escape just because she didn’t feel she was worthy of their friendship. You could remember the first time she had learned of your skill. You had gotten off of the ship to explore an island. You thought back about that day…

The trees were lush and green as you traversed a windy path that led to a hill, looking for that one landmark that would help you remember the island forever. Walking along the stone pathway, you noticed that the ground was littered with these tiny pieces of metal that you were unaware of the origin or purpose of. Intrigued, you kept up your pace as you walked, seeing more and more chunks of this metal. You decide to pocket one of the smaller pieces in hopes of maybe getting an idea of what it was from, possibly through Franky or Usopp. Just in case, you decided to document your journey up the hill. Maybe there would be something that you missed upon first glance.

As you kept walking, you noticed less and less of the metal objects, and more tall grass and trees. Maybe the metal had been from some kind of outer fortification and you were now coming to an inner garden or the like. That hypothesis was soon tested as you came upon rising stone structures. Incomplete walls and archways were scattered in a manner you couldn’t make any sense of. Architecture was more of Robin’s area of expertise. Thinking of her, you brought your camera up to the hill to start finding good framing for a few snapshots. A place like this needed to be documented, and you weren’t going to wait for someone else to come do it. After wandering around and getting a few angles of the major structural remnants, you started to head back to the Sunny. On the way back you bumped into her by accident.

“Oh! Robin I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you, I must not have been looking where I was going.” You apologized profusely as she turned around and gave you a wide smile. “It’s okay, I’m just glad it wasn’t a group of bandits looking for hostages.” You were slightly confused by her comment but shook it off. “Hey Robin, I heard that you’re into archeology…could you possibly tell me what these buildings are?” With a wide eyed look of glee, she put her hands around your camera and with a nod you let her take it. “From what it looks like, it seems like it’s an open garden…some of the sides of the walls have poneglyph writing on them…it must be very very old, predating my family.”

Fast forward to now, where the two of you have become much closer than you ever thought you would, and certainly much happier. You’ve expressed many times how photogenic you think she is, and how much you’d like to get the chance to have her pose for a shoot. She never hesitates to tease you on what you might do with those photos, or just what sort of photoshoot it will really be, but you know she’s also flattered that you like her appearance to that degree. Finally you both have some free time and you set up your camera and a few outfits for her to wear. It was a warm day so most of the outfits she’s wearing corresponds to the weather.

“Hey Robin, why don’t you lean up against the mast and we can get a couple shots of you looking badass, okay?” “Yeah, that sounds good!” She saunters over to the mast and did a variety of poses; a squat, a lean, one with her arms crossed and even one with her Devil fruit, her arms dotted across the top of the mast, aiming down. ��You want to try another outfit and then we can we can do some of you over the side, maybe looking wistful?”

Nodding, she heads over to her room to get changed into a different outfit; she always has a good sense of fashion and that’s something you’ve admired about her. Unbeknownst to you, you and your subject have attracted quite the bit of attention. Sanji has been discreetly watching the two of you, and Chopper and Luffy have been a bit confused, albeit intrigued to what you were doing. It looked like Luffy had a plan to cause some mischief; you don’t know what kind but you were not going to let him ruin your day.

Robin returns swiftly, having changed into a white dress with purple polka dots and matching lace at the bottom. She really does look lovely in that, you think to yourself. “Alright, you ready to take some more pictures?” She gives an enthusiastic nod and heads over to the side of the boat, resting her hands on the rails and looking off in the distance.

As soon as you try to take the picture, Luffy and Chopper giggle loudly, attacking Robin with a hug. Sanji emerges from where he was watching and takes the chance to put his head in her chest. Even though this shot was totally not what you were expecting, you could live with it. It makes good memories of you and your crew. With a loud shout, you alert the rest of the crew to what you are doing; Franky and Usopp come tumbling out of their workshops like something is wrong. Nami vaults over the railing, running over to the picture as Zoro complains about all the noise. And finally, Brook comes out from inside the galley to see what all the fuss is about.

“Hey all” you start. “I was doing a photo shoot with Robin when Luffy and Chopper photobombed me and I have a great idea! Why don’t we do a few group pictures to create some good memories?” For the most part, the group agreed; minus Zoro who was still grumpy from being woken up. Upon agreement, you begin to put everyone in a place before everything falls apart, and you decide to just let them pose the way they want. The smile on Robin’s face as she’s surrounded by her dear friends is an image you want to treasure forever. Fortunately, you can.

#one piece x reader #one piece imagines #nico robin #nico robin x reader #one piece headcanons #opfanfiction #robin x reader #op

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riversofmars · 3 years

Text

Happy Sunday, everyone!! <3 Here is the next encounter of the “Big, Vast, Complicated and Ridiculous“ Series! Round two at Luna U... just a bit earlier! ;)

Rating: General

Word Count: 1800

Read on AO3 or below

Luna University Part II

“Mind out!“ The Doctor stumbled back into the broom closet she’d parked and hidden her TARDIS in. The warning came just in time as someone zoomed past on a hoover board, nearly taking her head off.

“Alright then…“ The Doctor closed the closet door quickly in the hopes no-one would notice where she’d come from. She looked around and wondered if she’d taken a wrong turn in the vortex somewhere. Luna University - which this quite clearly was, she recognised the corridor from her visit just now - resembled a mad house. The corridor was a mess, there were paper cups and spilled drinks, abandoned books, half eaten dinners and items of clothing. “Oh no…“ The Doctor winced as she realised where and most importantly when she had arrived: Fresher’s week.

Slowly the Doctor made her way down the corridor, unsure of what to do next. River had to be here somewhere… She rolled up the manuscript and stuck it into her coat pocket for safe keeping. If she had calculated correctly and the TARDIS hadn’t messed with her flight plan again, River should be in her final year of her degree. An upper classman who surely should be above something as silly as freshmen parties… but this was River Song as a uni student… Young, wild… and currently downing a drink at some speed as the Doctor reached the communal area of the the student halls.

“Where… do-do you put all… that…“ The student River had apparently been competing with could hardly get his words out right and he spilled the remainder of his drink across the table.

River jumped out of the way of the liquid and laughed, shaking out her impressive mane of hair.

“I have a theory that in addition to an extra heart, there’s also an extra liver hiding in there somewhere.“ River retorted with a winning smile drawing laughter from the surrounding students.

The Doctor hung back, watching. River appeared to be in her element. Loud, bold, people were fawning over her and she was loving the attention. The Doctor chuckled to herself a little, remaking again on the vast contrast to the River she’d last met. It was remarkable how much she had changed with time and how much she had stayed the same as well.

“But before we go for another round, I do have one question…“ River took a sip of the gin and tonic someone handed to her. “You, Darling, don’t go to this university, I would have noticed.“ River turned to look at the Doctor who jumped, startled, not expecting her to notice her at all. “So what are you doing here?“

“I uhh…“ The Doctor didn’t know what to say, she looked around to make sure River was actually referring to her. Suddenly all eyes were on her as she hovered in the doorway.

“I mean, I’m not one to complain when a cute girl turns up on my doorstep…“ River smirked making her way over, leaving her admirers behind disappointed.

“River…“ The Doctor forced a smile, wondering how to best approach this situation. She thought back to the Maldovarium. River had indicated she’d met her then so this must have been that encounter.

“I see my reputation precedes me as usual.“ River smirked, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “And you are?“ She placed her hand on the doorframe, baring her way.

“Jane… Smith…“ The Doctor answered slowly, trying to keep the chronology intact.

“You expect me to believe that, Jane Smith?“ River burst out laughing as she seized her up. “Why have I never seen you around campus before?“

“Recent transfer.“ The Doctor retorted quickly, feeling the pressure.

“Is that so.“ River tilted her head to one side and grinned like a cheshire cat. “What is it you study, Jane Smith?“

“Archeology.“ The Doctor answered, hoping that was her best play.

“Isn’t that one hell of a coincidence.“ River hummed, stepping a little closer still. Close enough to make the Doctor inch back nervously.

“Yes, I know, that’s why I… I was hoping we could talk… professionally.“ The Doctor glanced over her future wife’s shoulder to the other students that were watching curiously.

“Well, Sweetie, you can talk to me any time but no promises I’ll be keeping it professional…“ River husked with a smirk that made the Doctor blush and her hearts beat a little faster. So this was what young River Song was like. She hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know her at the Maldovarium but maybe there was an opportunity now… The Doctor had just spent a wonderful night with her wife but still, she was drawn to this brazen version of her just as strongly. The River she had seen just now she’d known very well, but this young River, she didn’t, at all.

If the Doctor didn’t give herself away, as the older River had suggested, it would be a glimpse at what she was like when she thought no-one was watching. When she didn’t have to be good River Song, the wife of the Doctor, but her unpolished, unfinished self… so full of energy and mischief. It was alluring in a totally different way to the loving safety and warm comfort her older wife had given her.

“Well, maybe you don’t have to.“ The Doctor found herself saying, silencing all her contradicting thoughts about what she should or shouldn’t do. Why not live a little?

“How about that drink then, Jane Smith?“ River appeared delighted, she reached out and ran her fingers along one of her yellow braces.

“Sure, yeah…“ The Doctor nodded, her throat was getting rather dry after all.

“Outstanding.“ River grinned and went to fetch her a drink. The Doctor remained standing in the doorway, unsure whether to follow her or not. She felt everybody’s eyes on her and it was making her uncomfortable. “There you are.“ River returned moments later, placing a glass in the palm of her hand before stroking her fingers up the Doctor’s arm with a grin.

“How about we take it somewhere more quiet so we can talk?“ The Doctor asked, very much aware of their audience and she wanted to have River to herself. River raised her eyebrows with a smirk, this was infinitely more easy than she had anticipated but she wasn’t going to complain.

“Come along then.“ She grabbed the Doctor’s hand and pulled her down the corridor to a chorus of disappointed calls of the students they were abandoning.

From there, things happened very quickly, quicker than the Doctor had anticipated. River shoved her up against her dorm room door once she’d closed it and assaulted her lips with her own. The Doctor gasped, overwhelmed, spilling her drink over the both of them.

“Ah well, that’s a shame, we’re gonna have to take our clothes off now.“ River smirked. She slid her jacket off her shoulders and threw it onto her chair, then pulled her tank top over her head and off. The Doctor just stared at her, her head spinning. It was silly really, she knew every inch of her wife’s body very well but the way this young River was advancing towards her, flipping her hair back…

“I uhh…“ The Doctor tired her best to look at her face, not her lacy bra. Her mouth went dry.

“Something the matter, Sweetie?“ River hummed as she slowly pushed the Doctor’s coat off her shoulders, she pressed her lips to her throat, trailing wet kisses down to her collar bone. The coat fell to the floor and River pushed her hands under the Doctor’s t-shirt, running her fingers up her stomach.

“Oh crap…“ The manuscript the Doctor had left in her coat pocket had fallen out and spilled over the floor. The Doctor pulled away from River and bent down to pick it up before the pages could get mixed up.

“Lost something?“ River asked in amusement, watching her scramble around the floor. She bent down as well and picked up a couple of pages. “What’s this?“ River frowned, her voice suddenly far more serious as she skimmed the pages. “Is this some kind of a joke?“

“Uhh… no, this is…“ The Doctor didn’t really know what to say, she hadn’t gotten as far as that in her planning of this trip. Was she supposed to just tell her her future self sent this with kind regards?

“Cause this is exactly the topic I’m planning to write my thesis on, I’ve got notes detailing this section and… What is this? Where did you get it?“ There was no small measure of distrust in River’s voice now as she demanded an explanation.

“This is actually why I’m here…“ The Doctor decided it was best to just come clean, she knew River would be able to tell if she was lying. “There is someone out there that wants you to have it. Save you some time…“ She tried to explain.

“Someone? I haven’t told anyone about my topic yet!“ River countered.

“Well, it’s not just anyone…“ The Doctor gave an apologetic smile but River’s expression just grew more suspicious. “Okay fine, your future self asked me to take this to you. You wrote this yourself but a long time from now. Happy?“ The Doctor sighed, hoping the revelation wouldn't have any consequences. She figured technically, River would eventually have to find out it was her that wrote the thesis for herself, so she would know to write it in the future.

“That… does sound like something I would do…“ River admitted taking the rest of the papers, mulling over whether or not to believe her.

“I’m just the messenger.“ The Doctor held her hands up defensively. “You do with this what you like.“

“So… if you know my future self… you must be from my future, too.“ River stood up and so did the Doctor.

“Oh, no, no, who’s to say your future self didn’t come to visit me?“ The Doctor countered quickly, she knew she shouldn’t be telling her too much.

“I’m saying that.“ River pointed out, jabbing the pages at her. “And that means, either you have access to time travel or you know someone that does!“

“Now listen… River…“ The Doctor could virtually see the gears turning in her future wife’s head.

“Who are you?“ River asked suspiciously. “Your name is not Jane Smith, that’s for sure.“

“I think I best get going.“ The Doctor picked up her coat quickly. “This was great, really nice, but…“ She fumbled with the door knob.

“How did you get here? What’s your means of travel?“ River carried on, intrigued. “And how will we know each other?“

“I was really hoping we could have a bit more time for this one…“ The Doctor sighed, realising this was just another fleeting moment. “Sorry about this.“ She knocked the pile of papers out of River’s hand, sending them flying to distract her future wife long enough so she could bolt.

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