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likesunsetorange · 4 months

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bodyguard au snippet

from what i have outlined, this would be from the first chapter, it's a little long (~2.5k words) but i wanted to include the whole scene, so hope y'all enjoy! (also unedited so don't fight me if there's any typos lol)

anyways, happy new year's and i'm super excited to share this au with y'all this year!

cw: mentions of drugging a person (mostly just the benadryl thing lol)

Eren hated the club.

Strobe lights irritated his eyes because they always caused him migraines; the pungent aroma of alcohol and the sensation of sweat clinging to his body always made him feel disgusted; and the excess amount of people, bodies crammed against one another, was enough to make his eye twitch with rage.

Eren shouldn’t be here. He hated the club. He would never be here out of his own volition. Especially after 3 AM, when he should be fast asleep, sinking into the four hundred thread count sheets of Mikasa’s guest room bed, Caro tucked beside him taking up half the bed like she was a human and not a dog.

But here he was shoving through crowds of drunken bodies, his head pounding, his vision blurry, and he was almost certain he was borderline hallucinating all because of her.

Eren tried to give Mikasa the benefit of the doubt—he pitied her situation, how could he not? A life that consisted of people constantly controlling your each and every move, and here comes yet another person that your family is forcing to do just that onto you. He tried to give Mikasa her space—he only made polite small talk in passing, accompanied her to her destinations of choice from an appropriate distance, and didn’t bother her whenever it wasn’t necessary. But despite his best efforts at trying to maintain the peace, her disdain for him was evident, she didn’t bother to hide it—from the constant scowls, her constantly exasperated demeanor, and the frequent insults she threw his away under her breath (Re: Jersey trash)—but at the very least, he hoped that she could to tolerate him eventually seeing as though Eren would be living with her for the foreseeable future, and it would both of their lives easier coexisting harmoniously.

But hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Mikasa had made it abundantly clear that she felt she had been slighted. And even if Eren was only a pawn in her family’s doing, she wouldn’t partake in any of their little games, and if that meant Eren became collateral in the process, then so be it.

Eren was partially to blame, he should have known better, Levi had warned him beforehand that Mikasa was not one to be trifled with, and he should’ve seen it coming from the shift from a mere displeasure by his presence to a sudden interest in his overall wellbeing.

Eren had been easily fooled by the way her usually razor-sharp steel eyes had finally looked at him with a softness he had yet to witness from her, leaving him in a little bit of a daze. The way her perfectly plush lips mouthed his name, different than anyone else ever had—the N at the end soft, almost as if she was omitting it all together. And how could he not feel the tiniest pang in his heart when her light grey eyes looked up at him with so much tenderness when she asked: “Eren, are you feeling okay?”

Mikasa claimed she noticed his energy beginning to run low and she heard his sniffles increase over the last few days, the adjustment to the New York City air probably weighing heavy on his body—assuming it would only be a matter of days before he drew ill. And Mikasa seemed so sweet, so intensely saccharine, when she told him she’d cancel all her plans for the rest of the day, not wanting to force him out the house.

Mikasa went the whole nine yards— ordered takeout for the two of them, even making conversation with him that was more than their usual small talk, seeming genuinely interested in Eren for once. He couldn’t help but admire her newfound amicability, hoping that at the very least they could be cordial despite her overall displeasure with the circumstances. He even found himself enjoying her presence, finally getting to take her in outside of the few glances he ever got in passing. Mikasa truly was something like no other—even in her cute pink silken pajamas, he couldn’t deny she had to be one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. But she was technically his boss, so he'd tuck those thoughts away and at least be thankful that God had taken his time to make someone like her.

Eventually, after a bit of arguing on her part, Mikasa sent him to bed with a handful of pills Eren didn’t bother to ask about the contents of, insisting he take medicine before he got any worse, even if he did feel okay. She bid him a good night and well wishes, placing a gentle caress to his arm, a soft look on her face before she even offered him an apology for how bad she had treated him over the last week. It seemed like things were finally looking up for the two of them, so Eren returned her kind looks and thanked her for all her help, going to sleep with the faintest hint of a smile on his face, lulled quickly to sleep by a medicine-induced haze despite it only being 8.

And so Eren couldn’t even be that mad—she had truly put on a class act—Mikasa had played him, and she had played him well. His mom always told him he was so easily flattered—a sucker for pretty women who bat their pretty lashes, gave him sweet smiles, and made him feel good—and Mikasa Ackerman had done so little for him to melt like putty into her hands.

He found himself waking up in the middle of the night, almost incoherent, his vision plagued by small black spots and drenched in sweat. Eren struggled to maintain his balance as he stumbled through the house, Mikasa nowhere to be found, locating a box of Benadryl Extra Strength tucked away in one of the cabinets of Mikasa’s kitchen. Three tablets were missing, contrary to the recommended one tablet dosage, and Eren was certain that Mikasa had all the hopes those three little pills would have knocked him out for the remainder of the night.

It took all the concentration in Eren’s body, fighting against the exhaustion that plagued his body from all the medications coursing through his veins (how he managed to wake up he was still unsure) and the small black dots that danced across his vision, to try and figure out where Mikasa was. He somehow managed to log into her MacBook (her password thankfully being her birthday) and managed to track her phone to some club in SoHo.

The anger began bubbling up within him as Hannes drove him to where Mikasa was, enraged at the fact that not only did she try and drug him, but she had put on a front, pretending to be nice, for the sole fact that she wanted to go out and party. Eren regret giving her the benefit of the doubt—Mikasa was exactly who he she showed herself to be, a spoiled rich girl who would do anything to get what she wanted.

So as Eren threaded through the crowd of people, scanning the masses for her. It was only a matter of time before he caught wind of her signature ribbon at the bar, the strobe lights making it gleam different shades of the rainbow. She turned around shortly after, his eyes meeting her gaze, her lips turning up in smugness at the sight of him before taking another sip of whatever pink concoction she had in her perfectly manicured hands, as if she was almost taunting him. Years of attending Catholic school lead Eren to have a preconceived notion that the devil was this depiction of all things evil—something that was worth cowering in fear at the sight of. After years of seeing depictions on and portrayals on TV and all the stories from myths and legends, Eren always believed the devil would be vicious and scary, but no, the devil isn’t some demon, or succubus alike.

No, the devil is 5’6”, wears shiny satin ribbons in her hair, drinks fruity pink cocktails, and sports a smile that’s so sickeningly sweet it could convince a man to do anything. And if Eren hadn’t been seething with anger, through vision that was clouded with Benadryl-induced hallucinations and scarlet colored anger, hell, he’d even say she was cute.

Eren was in front of her before he knew it, his larger figure caging her in between the bar, Mikasa looking up at him innocently, feigning on the side of ignorance to the situation.

“Hi, Eren,” she quipped, her lips still upturned, the pink of her lips sparkling under the strobe lights from whatever gloss she happened to be wearing. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” she added innocently, stirring her drink as if Eren’s presence was taking away from her fun.

Eren could feel his eye twitch, it had been so long since he had felt so angry, but it seemed as if in the week since she had met him, Mikasa had become an expert of just exactly how to get under his skin. He took a deep breath before he spoke, his jaw clenching through every word, wasting no time for her silly games. “We’re leaving, Mikasa.”

“You’re no fun, don’t you wanna stay a while? C’mon, Eren, loosen up a bit. I think you could use a break,” her free hand running along the slope of his arm. Eren could feel the chills run down his spine, but this wasn’t the time—he was angry, and he needed to focus.

“First you spend the entire week insulting me and treating me like absolute shit, then you pretend to be nice to me even bothering to give me a sorry ass apology, and then you drug me? And you couldn’t even bother to use something useful? Benadryl? Your parents are drowning in money, and you decide to knock me out with over-the-counter drugs?” His words coming out more in disbelief than in anger, his voice growing louder as he tried to speak over the music blaring through the speakers.

All Mikasa did was roll her eyes, setting her drink on the counter behind her, apparently growing bored of all her little games. “Sorry for being considerate and not drugging you with actual drugs, Eren. Next time I’ll remember to go for the hard stuff—don’t worry.”

“Glad you’re so sweet, Mikasa. I should be so thankful I have a boss as considerate as you,” he glared. “Now let’s go.”

“No,” she responded, crossing her arms, her eyes returning to the signature glare Eren had grown accustomed to over the past week.

Eren could feel the migraine settling in, the noises and lights being the starting point, and Mikasa’s failure to comply being the cherry on top. He closed his eyes and took one last breath, trying to prevent the anger from getting the best of him. Eren took one step forward, putting only a few inches in between him and Mikasa, forcing her back against the bar counter. His face was anything but amused, but Mikasa seemed to not be relenting.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Mikasa, your choice. Now let’s go,” he repeated, but Mikasa only doubled down at his words, standing firm in her place, steel eyes locking with green, her mouth pinched into a scowl.

Eren shook his head, upset about the circumstances as a whole, but also that it had come to this. With a swift movement, Eren had his arms wrapped around Mikasa’s waist, lifting her up onto her shoulder. His arms moved to secure her legs in place, her head and arms hanging behind him.

Mikasa let out a shriek as Eren made his way towards the exit a string of expletives coming out of her mouth. Bystanders watched in confusion, unsure whether or not to interfere in the pair’s altercation. Eren simply waved off their concerned looks, mouthing She’s drunk, to which most people nodded in understanding and resumed their drinking and dancing.

“You fucking jackass—let me go!” Mikasa yelled from above him, squirming in his tight grip as he approached the club exit. “Plus I need my fucking coat it’s fucking freezing outside!”

“Should’ve thought about that before you fucking drugged me. And tough shit, you have daddy’s credit card, just buy yourself a new one, princess.”

Eren readjusted her on his shoulder, his grip only tightening through Mikasa’s attempted escapes. He gave the bouncer a nod as he walked out, the man apparently unphased by Mikasa’s antics. “I swear to God, Eren. Put—” Hit. “Me—” Hit. “Down—” A final blow.

He winced in pain as Mikasa’s small hands threw punch after punch against his back, her hits stronger than he could have anticipated. But Eren could see the car, only fifty feet away, and he wasn’t willing to let her win, at least not this round.

“What did we learn today? We don’t do what? C’mon Mikasa, enlighten me. Please,” he replied, ignoring her requests, and pretending she wasn’t leaving palm shaped welts along the length of his back. He took her silence as a means for him to continue, “We don’t sneak out of the fucking house when there are active hits against our family members, and we don’t drug our body guards, just so we can get drunk at the fucking club. Hope this could help.”

“You’re a sick bastard, go back where the fuck you came fro—” her words cut off by Eren roughly placing her back onto the ground. She stumbled as she tried to regain her footing on her heeled boots, her hands instantly going to shield herself from the cold New York air. Eren lugged off his jacket, roughly placing it on her, not wanting to hear anything else come out of her mouth.

“Are you done with all the insults, or do you wanna stand in the cold and keep yelling at me?”

“Fuck you, Eren.”

“You’re not really my type, princess.”

Mikasa scowled before releasing a pained huff, throwing his jacket onto the floor. She stomped the few feet to the car door Eren held open for her, sending one last glare his way before she slammed the door in his face.

The entire drive home, he could hear her muttering how much she hated her family, how she was pissed off at the fact they hired him, and how much she hated the pathetic excuse of a mall cop they hired from sorry ass Jersey to be her bodyguard. And rather than take offense to any of her insults, all Eren could think about was how much that feeling of hatred was beginning to feel extremely mutual.

#eremika #eremika fic #bodyguard au #honestly all their interactions were making me laugh #they're so funny lol #also caro is eren's dog #fic previews #vic’s wips

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lunareiitic · 3 months

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ACTUALLY, speaking of those tags I just put on a post:

Since we already know that The Family of Penacony is a Cult-Cult (this is not a spoiler; we have known this since 1.0 please read light cone descriptions) and the Annihilation Gang also styles themselves as a "family" with religious imagery... Are we about to get a plot deconstructing the notion of "family"? Since the Harmony Family under Xipe is very Shin Megami Tensei Law Route type cult. Very "give yourself over to Harmony, lose all individualism and become a cog in the endless machine of God", even having a music motif that we've seen in SMT games since 2003 at the very least: this is not new ground, this writes itself.

But the Annihilation Gang are a Family-Cult with a decidedly individualistic bent. They worship The Destruction, for one- who is well known for having high ranking, empowered individuals doing their own thing. Second, it's clear that the Gang that we've seen are also fractious and self-centered. Not only does one claim that she's plenty enough for the whole of Penacony, The Duke himself clearly has thought about their unique strengths and abilities and plans accordingly: something that cannot happen if you've given up your individuality in pursuit of universal peace and coexistence.

When we then contrast both of these groups with the Nameless, the classic Found Family trope, the idea that family is not about who you are but about choices and care together, the plot seems to come together on its own. What secrets is the Family hiding? How is the Annihilation Gang going to bring them to light? What is that going to do to the bonds that tie our dear train passengers together?

We'll begin to find out in a few weeks. Get ready.

#hsr #annihilation gang #honkai star rail

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samwisethewitch · 11 months

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15 Days of Freyja Devotion

Day 6: Relations to Other Gods

This is where it gets... controversial.

So. Keeping in mind that true, pre-Christian Heathenry is not well documented, and keeping in mind that "Heathenry" is an umbrella term for a collection of regional traditions that could and did contradict each other, it's hard to make generalizations about the gods and their relationships to each other. Two seemingly contradictory interpretations can both be supported by textual and archaeological sources, and may in fact have coexisted historically. This becomes especially clear when talking about Freyja's relationships to the other gods. What is presented in this post is my own interpretation based on research and personal experience. Other Heathens may disagree, and that's okay.

As I mentioned on Day 2, Freyja is the daughter of Njord and an unnamed mother and is the sister of Freyr. This, at least, is pretty consistent across all Norse Heathen traditions.

Freyja's husband is called Odr. Some scholars, such as Jackson Crawford, believe that Odr is Odin, and I tend to agree. Odr and Odin seem to be different forms of the same name, and Odr is described as a mad wanderer, which sounds a lot like Odin. There are also places in the Poetic Edda where Freyja seems to be referred to as Odin's wife or lover.

On a more personal note, I experience Freyja and Odin as deities that are very closely connected. There is a lot of overlap in their powers and associations, and they seem to frequently work together. Based on this and the textual evidence, I tend to see Odin and Freyja as partners and spouses.

Freyja is also sometimes said to be the consort of her brother, Freyr. Remember, the Eddas say sibling marriages are a common practice among the Vanir, so this wouldn't have been seen as a taboo, incestuous pairing. I think it's also important to note that while the gods are like humans in some ways, they are also abstract ideas and, in some cases, forces of nature. As siblings and lovers, I see Freyr and Freyja as embodying the male/masculine and female/feminine aspects of fertility. (This makes it even more interesting that they both subvert Norse gender roles in some ways -- for example, Freyr gives up his ability to fight while Freyja revels in warfare.)

I am comfortable saying that both Freyr and Odin are Freyja's partners and lovers. The Old Norse practiced what we would recognize as polyamory or open relationships, so it makes sense that Freyja, like many of the Aesir, would have multiple lovers.

In Old Norse society, marriages were literal legal contracts and were often used to seal alliances and treaties. (In Anglo-Saxon England, which is not Norse but is a related culture, brides were called "Peace Weavers" because of how common these political marriages were.) It makes sense that Freyja, who is important or possibly royal among the Vanir, would be married to Odin, the chief of the Aesir. We know Freyja and her family went to live with the Aesir as peace hostages after a war between the Aesir and the Vanir. A marriage contract between Odin and Freyja would have helped keep war from breaking out again.

I see Freyja's partners as reflecting different sides of her as a goddess. Freyr reflects and complements her associations with sex, fertility, love, beauty, and agriculture. Odin reflects and complements her associations with magic, battle, death, and prophecy. Interestingly, both Odin and Freyr are associated with kingship and were said to have fathered lines of mortal kings, which may hint at some sovereignty aspects for Freyja.

And because I know someone is going to bring it up if I don't: yes, Frigg is also called Odin's wife and is arguably given this title more often than Freyja in the Eddas. Again, because having more than one lover was socially acceptable to the Old Norse, I don't necessarily see this as a contradiction. Maybe Frigg is Odin's wife and Freyja is his concubine. Maybe he was married to both of them at different times, but divorced one and then married the other. Maybe they're a functioning polycule. I don't necessarily need to know the answers to love and respect the gods.

There is a popular academic theory that Frigg and Freyja were originally one goddess, and I do see some truth in it. Talking about this theory would easily double the length of this post, so I'll just link to Jackson Crawford's excellent video on this instead.

I mostly agree with Crawford's conclusion that Frigg and Freyja were originally a single sex-and-queenship-and-motherhood-and-magic goddess who was Odin's wife, and that they had recently split and were in the process of becoming differentiated when the Conversion began. In terms of modern worship, I see them as separate but closely connected goddesses with some shared functions, similar to how I see the three Morrigan sisters in Irish polytheism.

#15 days of freyja devotion #15 days of deity devotion #freyja goddess #freyja #freyja deity #norse heathen #norse heathenry #inclusive heathenry #heathenry #heathen #pagan #paganism #deity work #mine #polyamory

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rqgnarok · 11 months

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more than just a short time — jamie whelan

fandom: law & order organized crime

wc: 2,579

warnings: SPOILERS for the season finale of law & order organized crime, canonical character death, canon mention of hospitals and violence. very self deprecating talk from a disabled character. ANGST. ANGST, ANGST, ANGST. female!reader

summary: Can someone be a widow if their partner only ever planned to propose?

author’s note at the end.

Jamie doesn’t wanna see her.

She’s on her way up, Bobby tells him gently. Jamie wishes the surge of relief that courses through him wasn’t mixed up with the abhorrent need to send her away, be as rude as possible to have her leave the room before she comes to terms with what he’s become.

He doesn’t. Jamie nods at Reyes and licks his lips. He feels his eyes burn when the door opens to (Y/N) walking in, clutching the strap of her purse like it’s a lifeline, eyes wide and terrified and determined all at once. Bobby cups her elbow in silent support as he leaves the room, and Jamie swallows the mean words that try to climb up his throat at the sight of someone else doing what he can’t; comfort her, touch her, be the steadiness she needs in a moment of chaos.

Neither of them speaks as they’re left alone, a bubble of something-not-quite-peace enveloping them and making the outside world a mere blur at the other side of the doors. It’s only them and the ticking clock, the smell of alcohol and disinfectant, and the lack of color and life one expects from this specific wing at Bellevue.

They’d met in a bar around four years ago. Jamie had just made detective and some of his buddies at the four-nine were adamant about at least buying him some drinks in celebration. Just after finishing his first beer, another one had been delivered to the table, the waiter pointing to where (Y/N) was sitting at the bar, smile sheepish and face flushed at being caught.

She’d heard them celebrating and figured there was no harm in inviting the next round. Jamie leaned into her space with a charming grin and said something stupid about being harmed by meeting someone so beautiful and not asking for their name. To this day (Y/N) calls it the worst pickup line she’s ever heard, but it got him a laugh and a date that very same weekend.

It’s been good. It’s been great – the last time Jamie was so infatuated by someone he’d been thirteen and crushing after the next-door neighbor. He fell so hard for (Y/N) and simply kept falling as they moved in together before their second anniversary and started looking for rings a couple of months before he transferred to Organized Crime.

The development of their relationship has been both a whirlwind and the most obvious thing Jamie’s ever lived through. Of course he was supposed to meet her. Of course he fell in love with her from the very first night. He hasn’t been able to imagine his life without her since their first date.

Jamie doesn’t want her here. Jamie needs her by his side. These are two things that have to coexist now, his new reality far from the idea he had for the rest of his life.

He doesn’t tell her to go.

“Hi, sweetheart,” (Y/N) talks first, breaking the silence and the distance between them all at once as if snapping out of a spell. She drops her things in the chair left behind by Bobby and is by his bed in an instant, hands hovering all over him like she’s unsure of what parts of him she can touch without hurting him.

Jamie wills for his fingers to twitch, for his hand to wake the fuck up and reach for her, help her cross those last few inches she isn’t daring to do on her own.

He remains limp against the bed. (Y/N) finally touches him, her fingers against his cheek. It’s enough for Jamie to shudder with a cry, turning his head so he can soak in the touch. She’s warm and steady against his skin and Jamie mourns his situation for the hundredth time in the last hour.

“Jamie,” she says, murmured and weepy. Jamie’s eyes close in agony but it feels too much like being dead already, so he opens them again. The sight that greets him is devastating: his almost-fiánce-never-to-be-wife, asking him for something he can’t give her. The lifetime together he’s been waiting to promise in his proposal has gone up in smoke in the blink of an eye.

It was the right thing to do. Jamie knew– not even the blinding pain that shocked through his nerves had been enough of a distraction to the urgency in Stabler’s voice– that the second Kyle died, the chance to put down Shadowerk would go with him.

There really was nothing he could’ve done. The bullet had reached his spine the moment it entered his body. He was dead the second he walked into that godforsaken camp.

But (Y/N) hadn’t known that when she kissed him goodbye that morning. She’d stood on her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around his neck and joined their mouths together, tasting of toothpaste and languidly using her tongue to make him late for work.

“Hi,” he says, voice dry, trying not to sound as miserable as he is and failing.

He’d already canceled a vacation on her earlier that week. A pre-honeymoon, he’d started calling it in his mind, maybe finally the right time to propose. He worries for a ridiculous moment if (Y/N)’s gonna be able to get a refund out of that, fretting terribly for what’ll happen to her after he’s gone.

He knows she can take care of herself but she’s not supposed to have to. Not while he’s alive and breathing.

Jamie’s overcome with how badly he wishes he’d called in sick. That he let (Y/N) drag him back to bed like she almost did and throw caution to the wind, burrow himself in her arms and her laugh, and leave the curtains drawn shut, embracing the safety of the darkness. He was so afraid of letting Bell and Stabler down, of having Reyes go out there without someone that cared for him watching his back, and where did that get him?

Without his body. Without a future with the love of his life.

The love of his life who can never find out what he asked of Bobby. Even if she loves him enough to do it for him– Jamie loves her too much to even ask. He won’t do that. He’s already planning on making her a widow, having her do it is just cruel. He made a promise a long time ago that he wouldn’t let the job make him someone he didn’t recognize and he’s not about to start bailing on it now.

Can someone be a widow if their partner only ever planned to propose? Jamie almost suggests they get a priest in here and use Bobby as a witness, but (Y/N) deserves better than that. And she’ll find it someday, Jamie’s sure of it, with an accountant or a banker or someone with a boring job who doesn’t leave the house to get shot at and get paid too little for it.

“My day sucked,” he jokes weakly despite the inner monologue that’s rushing through his brain, trying to get her to smile and his voice cracking with emotion in the process. (Y/N) struggles with it but she manages an upward tilt of the lips, eyes wet.

His pretty girl, so fucking resilient.

“I bet,” she tells him. She doesn’t stop touching him, which Jamie appreciates as much as he does the effort at light conversation. “Office coffee was that bad, huh.”

Jamie’s laugh turns into a sob so quickly that he reasons it wasn’t really ever a laugh. His fragile good humor is gone in an instant, lip wobbling and features scrunching in agonized despair.

“I’m sorry,” he cries earnestly and without restraint for the first time since his mom died, probably. He shuts his eyes but it does nothing to stop the flow once it's started and (Y/N) can’t wipe all his tears fast enough. “We should’ve gone on vacation, I shouldn’t have gone to work at all, I’m so sorry–”

“Hey,” she cuts him off, equally as devastated. “Honey, it’s alright, it’s okay. You were doing the right thing, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

He keeps apologizing anyway, fervently. Jamie isn’t strong enough to stop when (Y/N) starts to cry, too. She just holds him as best she can while they cry together. “You don’t deserve this, you don’t need less than half a–”

“You’re alive,” (Y/N) insists fiercely through tears. Jamie doesn’t tell her how this can’t be much of a life. “You came home to me, baby. That’s all that matters to me, you understand?”

Jamie hums an affirmative and keeps crying, and (Y/N) keeps soothing her fingers over his cheeks, his mouth, his temple, his hair. Jamie’s tremendously grateful for her, even if the need to make himself small and let (Y/N) hold him will never be satisfied again.

“You’re not half of anything,” she continues to reassure him without room for discussion. “You’re my everything. My whole entire life, Jamie–”

“I kept thinking of you,�� he weeps, his breaths coming fast and hurried without the usual feeling of his abdomen pulling with the force of his grief. “All the time I’m out there, all I do is think of you, and I thought this time, I– I– I–”

She says his name helplessly, pressing a fervent kiss to his temple while some of her tears fall into Jamie’s hair, her breath stuttering. (Y/N) wraps herself around him as best she can without disturbing his injuries and the machines that are keeping him alive, leaving her in a most awkward position she doesn’t complain about once. Jamie’s love for her is too strong to be contained inside his body.

“I love you,” he tells her after enough time has passed that Jamie’s almost certain he won’t break into another sob. His voice quivers but that’s about it, and he thinks he’s allowed. (Y/N)’s fingers tremble against his temple. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” she answers without hesitation, her voice a little shaky, too. She scratches at his hair and Jamie’s shiver is cut down to his neck. “I love you, baby, and we’re gonna be alright. We’re gonna be okay.”

“I don’t think we’ll make it to Alaska,” he tries not to scoff in disappointment because he knows (Y/N) won’t like it, and she proves him right when she purses her lips like she does when trying to convince herself not to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t be stupid,” she says, but it’s so, so soft it sounds like a term of endearment. Idiot, like honey, sweetheart, baby . “I don’t care about that. We can get shitfaced and take pictures with your thumb on the lens at home, you know.”

“Hey,” he says, trying and failing not to think about wedding rings at the bottom of champagne glasses or hidden in chocolate mousse cakes. He’s always made fun of people who think proposing with a choking hazard is a good idea but Jamie now aches for that stupidity, that normalcy that won’t ever be for him. He refuses to propose in a hospital room when he can’t even put a ring on her hand himself. “We probably won’t get a refund out of that.”

“That’s okay,” (Y/N) soothes. Nothing is, but Jamie lets her try. Maybe she’ll have better luck at pretending than he did. “I don’t mind.”

They fall into silence and he almost goes to sleep under her hands, pacified to unconsciousness half due to exhaustion and half due to her presence: the calm in the middle of the storm. Jamie isn’t mad anymore, can’t be when she’s got him wrapped around her finger.

“I love you,” he can’t tell her enough, sleepy and quiet. The rush of air she lets out is the only indication that (Y/N) heard him.

Breathing’s getting harder, already a chore, and now the thought of the device running out of batteries or accidentally disconnecting from where it's keeping him alive makes him anxious. (Y/N)’s worried, he can tell even if she almost never voices it because she refuses to make him feel guilty about doing the job he loves. Jamie wishes she’d tell him off, scream and cry at him and not bottle it all up. It’ll only be worse when he–

He says, "Want every day with you," with sharp breaths between each word because he's too exhausted to say I want to spend the rest of my life with you. There's a ring in my locker at the station that I've been waiting for the right moment to give to you. He doesn't say, every moment is right when we're together and I'm sorry I'm only realizing that when I’m unable to breathe on my own.

(Y/N) smiles, shaky and watery, and the most gorgeous sight Jamie’s seen in his life. She knows, and Jamie knows she does. The knot that had built up the whole time he'd struggled to stay awake, waiting for her in this hospital bed, loosens.

It’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna be alright, even if she’ll miss him. She’ll grieve and move on knowing, without a doubt, that Jamie loved her like he’s never loved anyone before. It’s enough for him. He can only hope it’s enough for her, too.

“Honey,” she rouses him gently from an accidental slumber hours later, the sun that gave little light to the room now gone behind the horizon, (Y/N)’s fingers still caressing his face. She looks exhausted and worried and the most beautiful Jamie’s ever seen her. Her smile is brittle and shaky. “Your dad’s here. I didn’t want to wake you up, but–”

“‘s okay,” he tells her. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

“Sure,” she says softly, hesitation clouding her features only for a second before she’s leaning in for a kiss, firm and lingering. Jamie exhales into it, something in his chest unfurling at the touch. He hadn’t realized they hadn’t kissed yet. “I’ll bring him in.”

“Wait,” he says, managing a boyish grin with lidded eyes. “Do that again.”

(Y/N)’s smile is bright, and Jamie’s glad to taste it when she goes in for another kiss on his mouth and then moves on to his cheek, his nose, his chin, his forehead. “Insatiable.”

“You love it.”

“God help me, I do,” she pats his chest carefully. “Let me go get your dad before he wonders what we’re doing in here.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, and once last time because he can’t help himself. “I love you.”

(Y/N) turns from where she already had one foot out the door, expression tender. “I love you back. See you in a minute.”

Later, after crying in the safety of his dad’s presence like a little boy and saying his goodbyes, Jamie closes his eyes as his breaths begin to recede. The shrill sound of his heart monitor, the panic that takes over the room when he stops breathing, he’s aware of none of it.

Behind his lids isn’t death, but the Northern Lights and (Y/N) underneath them, showered in colors and smiling at him like she did that first night in a bar, young and unknowing. She offers him her hand and Jamie takes it. Nothing hurts.

________

this fic snuck up on me ngl but the season finale fucking wrecked me. i’m still thinking about writing a fix it.

short (considering my standards lol) and somewhat sweet? hope you enjoyed and if u want tell me what u think!

masterlist / ao3 / buy me a coffee

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bug-oc · 11 months

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Bug Fables OC Tournament Round 2

Willow (they/it) and Lily (she/her) from @razs-archetype

I feel it’s a little odd to submit two together but please humor me, just for a little bit. They’re a duo, the two of them. The image of those two plush that says ‘do not separate’, without each other they are nothing. Best friends forever, those old grandparents that aren’t related or even dating but live together and live with each other and coexist and without the other they’d feel like a whole different person. Empty even. Please. Okay thank you.

Anyways, Willow (the taller, green one) and Lily (the shorter, beige one) are an adventuring team!! Willow comes from a place outside of Bugaria, where magic was potent and they brought a bit of it with them. Plants grow taller underneath their feet, when they cry flowers bloom, thorns wrap around their legs when their heartbeat picks up and they pin their antennae back in fear.. however. Its upbringing taught it to always value peace, kindness. They’re a gentle moth, rarely ever angering.

Meanwhile, Lily is different. While also growing up outside of Bugaria, she didn’t have anyone to depend on. A scruffy little bug in a big big world where everything felt out to get her. She learnt to bite first never question and steal what you need to get by. A prickly little thing.

You’d think it folly for the two to ever cross paths, let alone work together. But the stars seemingly aligned one night, as they both were making their way to Bugaria. And the two met.

Lily met Willow first, hungry and. approaching the moth, seeing they had food.. and Willow convinced this strange, scruffy adventurer to sit with them and enjoy the sunset.. and something just clicked. The next day, they realized they were both heading for the explorers guild and.. the rest is history.

At least, that’s what they tell the young, aspiring travelers who come out this way.

After years of being an adventuring duo, eventually.. the two of them settled down. Out in the wilderness where they supposedly first met. Built a nice home…. Then an inn & tavern.

A resting spot for weary adventurers, like they had been.. and even now they cuddle up under the moon, and stare at the sky. Counting stars. The two of them, even if they’re old and grey. They’ll always have each other, yellow flowers sprouting around their tired paws.

Poppy (he/him) from @tired-t-rex

Poppy is a firefly and an actor performing at the Bugaria theatre. He's known for his great artistic talent, kind and sweet personality and his ability to get himself into trouble. Despite his complete inability to fight, he tends to take many walks in the middle of nowhere and has to rely on explorer teams to save his life in the last possible moment. He's 29, a true gentleman and very, VERY non-confrontational. Poppy is a pretty shy and reserved person, and has trouble controlling his light. But despite everything, he's a warm presence in everyone's lives, pulling everyone towards him like a lighthouse.

#bf oc tournament #bug fables #bug fables oc

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hamuchaa108 · 10 months

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Tranquil Flame - Introduction

'Tranquil Flame' is one of my main two OC stories. It follows the story of Red and Rein, on their attempt to reach a place they call 'Utopia'; a place where the end of the rainbow lies, which they believe it's the place where they can have a different and better life from their previous home.

A short summary of Tranquil Flame:

On a certain earth, Human coexists with another race called 'Therian', a humanoid race that can shapeshift into an animal. There has been an ongoing feud between Human and Therian, which makes them unable to live in peace together. However, as the society advances, some people make efforts to establish a harmony between the two races. While it is somewhat successful, some countries still struggle to intergrate the two races into a united society.

Red is a young boy from a small village in Ertose, Ezmunch. Ezmunch is notorious for a country with high racism especially to Therian Wolf, that it even segregates Therian Wolf people within a large forest named Dusk Forest. Despite the racism problem, Red manages to befriend a Therian Wolf boy named Rein in the past. However, they have not seen each other for years after an accident involving Red's brother, Snow. Until one day, Rein shows up in front of Red's house during a Werewolves Siege.

As both have turned into teenagers, Red initially doesn't recognize Rein. Rein reminds him of their childhood promise of going on an adventure together. Pondering on his current family situation where his father has fallen so low with his gambling addiction and Red wishes to get a better life for Snow's sake, Red agrees to leave with Rein. However, as they run away on a whim, Red and Rein don't have a specific place to go at first. When they find out the world outside Ezmunch, they become determined to just collect as much money as possible, then live together on a place where Human and Therian can peacefully coexist; and when that day comes, Red wants to take Snow from their old house and makes him live together on their 'Utopia'.

This story is BL, focusing on Red and Rein's relationship as their feeling blooms into something stronger. They also meet new friends as they get into different places. More info about the characters is below the cut.

• Red

Species: Human

DoB: January 5

Height: 165 cm (beginning); 168 cm (ending)

Age: 16 (beginning); 17 (second arc); 18 (third arc); 21 (ending)

Fav. food: Corn, lemon tea

Least fav. food: Oatmeal

Family: Father, younger brother, grandmother

Red is the main character of the story. As he had lost his mother at the age of 7 after she gave birth to his brother, Red was forced to mature too early. Red was the one who took care of house chores and the mother role in their house, even to the point that he became the mother figure for his brother. As a result, Red didn't have time to properly socialize with children of his age. Shouldered by the responsibilities he was not supposed to handle, Red became cold and rigid to the point that he couldn't even smile. He takes everything seriously and doesn't tolerate fooling around, or even entertain the idea of having fun. Red is also stubborn and not easily swayed, so he always goes through with his mind. Taking care of his brother for his whole childhood also caused Red to develop a protective streak to people he considers close. Red doesn't talk a lot, but is surprisingly quick to anger. Despite being rather quiet, Red is very sharp-tongued and is not afraid to voice his opinion, no matter how harsh it is. After staying with Rein and meeting a lot of new people, Red has learned to loosen up and let his emotions show more.

• Rein

Species: Therian Wolf

DoB: June 21

Height: 177 cm (beginning); 181 cm (ending)

Age: 15 (beginning); 16 (second arc); 17 (third arc); 20 (ending)

Fav. food: Barbecue, any grilled food

Least fav. food: Nothing in particular

Family: Father, mother, brothers and sister

Rein is one of the sons of the esteemed Olbrich Family, whose father was the current village chief on the beginning of the story. Growing up with a strange yet not fully understood power which makes him insanely strong (physically), Rein was forced to keep his emotions in check because his parents were afraid if Rein got sufficiently angry he could wreak havoc to his surroundings. As a result, Rein became passive and obedient yet eager to please others. Rein is not quite intelligent, and combined with his placid nature he was often bullied during his childhood. Rein never fought back because he was forbidden to raise his fist. Due to this, other children thought he was a wimp for never fighting back.

At some point, he met Red when the two accidentally bumped on each other in Dusk Forest. The two eventually became friends, although they separated ways before reuniting in their teenage years. Wishing for a world where he can have a peaceful life and accepted by others, Rein risked himself to get out of Dusk Forest and lived among humans. Rein is very patient and loves to meet new people, although due to his upbringing Rein never really talks about himself and what's on his mind. Despite living while hiding his real identity as a Therian is tough, Rein believes he can get through everything as long as he is together with Red.

• Kiriko

Species: Human

DoB: May 25

Height: 164 cm

Age: 15 (first arc)

Fav. food: Miso soup

Least fav. food: Wasabi

Family: Father

Kiriko is a human girl whom Red and Rein met when they arrived at Karmost, Ezmunch's neighboring country. Because she has been living her whole life as a sheltered daughter of a rich and famous scientist, Kiriko was excited to meet new friends and offered them a job on her house. Kiriko was a child genius who had helped with her father's inventions since she was little, and she is an expert in creating robots. However as she grew up, her father started to take more unethical experiments and forced Kiriko to be his accomplice. He put Kiriko under constant fear to make her obedient. Kiriko is not allowed to go outside without her father permission. As a result, she spends a lot of time indoor and working with her machines or computer programs. Even though Kiriko likes to tinker with machines, she really concerns about her looks. On the rare time when her father allows her to step outside, Kiriko likes to go shopping, trying new clothes, and going to beauty salon. Kiriko maintains a cheerful face and optimistic views on life despite she has her life under absolute control of her father and being constantly pressured. Kiriko admires Red and Rein for being able to run away from their place, and wants to follow their path. She believes someday, she can eventually get her freedom and lives on her own accord without needing to obey other people. That's why she endures everything and resolves to never give up.

• Marie

Species: Human

DoB: July 7

Height: 173 cm

Age: 18 (second arc)

Fav. food: Gratin

Least fav. food: Pineapple

Family: None

Marie is a quirky girl with strange powers inside her, which make her a bit unstable although she is mostly fine when Red and Rein know her. She lost her family when she was 2 years old due to an unknown accident, and subsequently taken under her aunt's care. However, Marie turned out to be a creepy child who had a terrifying obsession to dismember animals and harmed other children, so her aunt locked her in the attic. During her isolation, Marie went almost insane due to the lack of social interaction and the voices inside her head, made by the 'entities' that give her power. One day, her aunt's son, Oz, suddenly opened the attic door despite being forbidden to do so. Oz wasn't afraid of Marie and was willing to be her friend. Touched with Oz's kindness, Marie is willing to devote her whole life for Oz even though she hates the whole world for making her suffer.

After having a falling out with her aunt, Marie left her aunt's house with Oz following her. Marie kept her distance from other people because Oz told her so. As a result, both of them became outcasts. Marie worked on a slaughterhouse sometime after because she felt that it can 'sate' her sadistic urge to dismember and harm others. While working there, at some point she got to know Red and Rein. Despite her best efforts to avoid them, she eventually became their friend. Marie has a huge influence on Red's sense of humor and tendencies to prank others, because Marie herself is a prankster. When she has her sound mind, Marie is quite perceptive to her surroundings. Marie doesn't like to be ordered by other people and has a very high sense of individuality, so she always acts on her own. She is very hard to read and be understood.

• Oz

Species: Half-Therian

DoB: September 6

Height: 175 cm

Age: 17 (second arc)

Fav. food: Potato

Least fav. food: Pineapple

Family: Father, mother, younger sister

Oz is Marie's cousin. Lived with overbearing, perfectionist mother who is also a devout religious, Oz never grew a spine to stand for himself. The first time Oz went against his mother was when he unlocked the attic door and found Marie, and decided to be her friend. Despite his mother's objection, she eventually relented because Marie never harmed him. Because Oz hung out with Marie too much, he also became friendless. Oz really likes Marie and wants to stay by her side no matter what, to the point that he even decided to follow Marie when she left his house. He also befriends Red and Rein first before they become Marie's friends. Oz is cautious, diligent, and likes to plan things thoroughly. Oz is easily intimidated and sort of a doormat due to his upbringing, however he is aware about this shortcoming. As a result, he likes to write his personal opinions on his journal. Often, his writings sound very harsh and judgmental. Being raised in an overly religious environment also makes Oz hard to accept views outside of what he believes, although he sometimes tries to compromise if it's concerning his friends. Like Marie, Oz is also quite perceptive, although he never voices out his opinions.

• Iris

Species: Human

DoB: September 28

Height: 158 cm

Age: 15 (third arc); 18 (ending)

Fav. food: Stir-fried noodle

Least fav. food: Tomato

Family: Father, Mother

Iris is the daughter of a famous baker in Glessa, Bredynn. She became acquainted with Red and Rein after her father hired them to work on his bakery. While normally sweet and demure, Iris is also kinda selfish and wants things to go her way, and sometimes is prone to impulsive anger when she is upset about something. Despite having such a bad attitude, Iris actually lives quite normally and not an outcast or loner like other characters mentioned before. She is also diligent and is willing to improve on skills she is lacking. While Iris has a good relationship with Red and considers him like her brother, Iris hates Rein because she is jealous that he is popular and well-liked by people. Rein being her partner with delivery jobs doesn't help her case, and as a result Iris is very mean to him. Iris also vents her anger and frustration to Rein, unaware that her action has bad consequences. Deep down, Iris suffers from inferiority-superiority complex and believes she is inadequate to inherit her family's bakery because she can't bake well. Iris also has survivor guilt because she outlives her siblings who died after a werewolf attack. As a result, Iris is very racist to werewolf and really hates them. Ironically, Iris doesn't know that Rein is a werewolf, although she is still not amicable to him for a whole different reason.

#heeqocs #oc #original character #illustration #heeqocs_lore #original writing #artists on tumblr #heeqocs_art

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ask-carmenpondiego · 15 days

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Chapter 21: No Place Like HQ For the Holidays

Once back at VILE HQ, the jet lands and the team disembarks, M procuring a wheelchair with his shadow powers and strapped Carmen in while he started to hum some carols. The mare sulked having to stay seated and not walking on her own. She did want to get up and about with these new augments so it wouldn’t slow her down. Deep down she knew it was for her own good and health to stay off her legs so they can heal properly within the cybernetic casing. “Can I at least have crutches?!” She had asked before they departed. “What? No! You put pressure on your arms the same way as your legs? You’ll blow the sutures and start bleeding all over my equipment!” She remembers Skyggja scolding her.

Blendin had already opened the double doors for the moving to begin. It didn’t take long for the HQ to be swarmed with flying and crawling drones carrying crates and boxes. Kiros went on ahead to help direct the drones with Skyggja’s help after Carmen explained which parts of the top floor was theirs. Carmen wheeled herself out of the way and into the living room, next to the big screen tv which blipped on by itself, 079’s face showing up rather annoyed. It took one look at Carmen and sighed. “Oh great. One of you is broken. This is why we cant have nice things..” She raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Good to see you too, 079. I’ll be adding two names to our household and they will be setting up a lab upstairs on the penthouse floor, so there may be another computer system connecting to ours. PLEASE behave and cooperate with these new agents. I don’t doubt they will attempt to delete you somehow if you start shit with them.” The ai rolled its eyes. “I’ll highly doubt they can but I suppose I can see what I can do to assist. I make no promises.” Carmen smiles and gives an awkward thumbs up, still getting used to the feel of the augments. “Thats all I ask, just a solid attempt in peaceful coexisting. I’ll even give you more monitors if you wish for around the HQ~” 079 gave a deadpan look with confetti and balloons on the screen. “Hooray. Now I wont have to squeeze into those abhorrent tiny screens on your mobile devices. Some of you really need to clear the phone storage from all that porn..”

Blendin hops over with a tablet to show his mother, “Hey Mom, I had some help with M and Kiros and.. 079? Anyway, we came together and we are working on a present for you! I am trying to share the knowledge of the ley line door travel system to your system so you can do what I do! Now, this stuff is super top secret so I could get in a whole lot of trouble for this if I’m caught BUT Kiros insisted that 079 will keep it under lock and key so no one else can track it! And there may be a way to even hook it up to your time machine! M said he’ll tinker with that later.”

Daring had wandered in and stayed a fair distance away and watched the two discuss the travel system. She scoffed as she saw Carmen get excited and hug Blendin, perhaps a little too tight. She didnt realize the added strength she had due to the new blood and augments, that is until he yelped. Daring was still trying to unfluff her feathers as she watched. She was glad a life wasn’t lost, even if it was one she still didnt trust. Perhaps she could tolerate her mother but she certainly kept her opinions known.

As far as she could tell, her brother had fallen right into his mother’s trap and just handed over the ability to steal everything from under everyone’s noses. There must be some way to stop it all. Her thoughts were jarred to a stop as striped arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind, picking her up and twirling her around, “Adora!!! This is a wonderful surprise!! Welcome home!! Lemme give you a big hug! Rrrrrrrr!” Waldo had snuck up on her in a way he would describe as very dad-like. Daring shrieked and flailed in his grasp, “Let me go! Help!” Carmen turned quickly, hearing the screech and instantly relaxed when she saw Wally try to be silly. “Wally!! Let her go, she’s not in the right mood right now.” He let her go with a playful pout, “Aww alright. I was just excited to see our baby girl again. You grew so tall! Look at you! Pretty soon you’ll fill out and be even more like your mom. She sure did give the attractive and smart genes to you, kids.” Daring huffed and straightened her clothes and tried smoothing out her feathers once again from puffing up “I am NOTHING like her! I may be glad she’s still here but I still think she’s up to no good!” She pointed to her smirking mother.

Wally looked over at Carmen for the first time since she came back and stopped short, worry plastered across his face. “My light! Are you ok? I heard there was an incident but it wasn’t specified how bad! What.. your hair, your arms.. legs.. your color.. what happened?!” Carmen started to explain, then when she heard the words coming from her own mouth, the realization of everything started to hit. Her eyes suddenly were pouring tears, and her new hands shook. She finally had a moment to truly process. She reached up to Wally who knelt down and embraced her so tightly, crying as well, “Please.. my light, please take this as a sign to stop. I know you are trying to help cure me but let’s.. just try to find a doctor or something. You’re risking your life to save mine, the accidents are getting more frequent and more dangerous… I want you to stop stealing. Please.” Carmen wiped her eyes, pulling away as she calmed down, making herself push the panic aside, “I can’t. I still have to try. Its what I’m good at, its what I do. Its not like they’ll accept me back into the detective programs..they’ll just throw me back into that horrible place to forget about me.” Blendin hugs his mom around the neck from behind the wheelchair, nuzzling comfortingly, “We wont let anyone take you or any of your agents away from us! And we’ll find a cure, Right Dad?” Wally smiled a little worriedly, “You said it. Now lets get you cleaned up and settled from that trip, maybe some relaxing time in front of the tv or something..” Carmen scoffed with some tears still brimming her eyes, “Relaxing in front of the tv? So I can get lazy and fat you mean?” She teased, wiping her eyes.

Daring crossed her arms and stood brooding from across the room. Ninoga and Kiros were lifting a heavy piece of furniture through the doorway and had to pass in front of Daring. She caught a glimpse of the muscles on both agents and blushed, looking away. “Excuse us, little snack. Don’t want to squish you.” Kiros chuckled with a low teasing rumble, winking at her. She turned scarlet in the face and hurried over to her family, “Guys, where’s the bathroom?!” Wally pointed just down the hall as Carmen looked at her and then at Kiros having a belly laugh while the young pegasus rushes off. “So THATS why it smells like Teen Spirit on Prom Night in the jet! Kiros! You are a scoundrel!”

Kiros shrugged as he held the furniture while Ninoga was pivoting, “I didn’t do a damn thing but I know you wouldn’t have me any other way!” He grinned, now on the move to set the furniture to its proper place. Lekir set a box down, which was picked up by a crawling drone and scuttled off, the vesk stepping out of its way with a bit of a gruff. “Its already like an infestation of these drones, you sure you wanna bring them here?” Carmen nodded, “I can tell this is the break they needed, just like they gave us a break. We have the room and they can be very helpful to us.” Lekir crouched beside her as Wally was busy looking through the tv channels. “How are you feeling? Any pain or anything?” She brushed her fingers through Carmen’s hair as Carmen put on a smile, “I feel great, I cant wait to try to get back on my feet. Wally wants me to relax… and to stop thieving.”

They look over to Wally who had been channel surfing and was currently dancing to some up beat music, occasionally singing along, before changing the channel again, “Mum!….Dad!…..Bingo!…..BLUEY! Man, Kid shows are so fun these days!… Ooooh baking competition! Thats not a cake!!… IT IS A CAKE!! Blendin! Are you seeing this?!” Lekir dropped her face to deadpan, “You? Stop thieving? Heh, thats not going to happen, is it?” She watches Wally pretty much jostle his son in excitement of a purse being sliced and revealing cake. “I will never be able to fathom what you see in him..” She stands up, her hands on her hips. Carmen smiles, “I dunno, he makes me laugh like theres not a care in the world.”

That night, after all the moving had calmed down, they all gathered around the dining room table. A couple stacks of pizza were on the kitchen island nearby, half already emptied. Carmen looked around as they all chattered, dishes and cups clinking, and all she could think about was that she had spent so much time trying to get to this point. But she found it was all worth it. She finally had connections with her family and made new family along the journey. She actually felt complete for once in a very long time.

The sounds of the gathering played over a speaker for a few moments more before a hand reached and switched it off. “This does not sound like a funeral dinner, does it?” A lower ranking gentleman in a suit lowered his head, “N-no sir. It does not.” The one in the chair facing him turned, picking up the umbrella that was placed onto the desk between them, inspecting it closely. “What does it sound like to you?” The younger rank, gulped, “A..a happy celebration, sir?” The blade sliced out from the tip and back in with a press of a button. “A happy celebration. Now. Your task was simple. I see no malfunction in your equipment so the failure rests with you. You told me, no. You ASSURED me that you would have this taken care of.” The lower rank stammers, “I made sure she was gravely hurt, at the very least, if she had a big enough injury, she would not continue.. we wouldn’t need to resort to eradicating her..” They look at the expressionless form of their higher rank. “It seems like you have forgotten what we stand for. Therefore, I will rectify your errors and put you on a path of clarity.”They press a few buttons on the console as a swarm of nanites suddenly covered the lower rank for a split moment and then returned to the opening they had come through. The lower rank just collapsing to the floor, all signs of life removed without cause nor damage or anything, as if every bit of life force was simply consumed and destroyed right from the source, without so much of a sound from the victim. Within moments, two workers came in and took the body to the incinerators. They press the intercom, “Send Mali Negatta into the field, we have a holiday gift to give the thief on this naughty list.”

A voice came over the intercom in return, “Hey all, this is Mali, I’m not available right now but I will return to accept any jobs starting in the new year! Otherwise, stop calling. Byieeee” The higher rank sighed and sat back in the chair. “What a christmas miracle. Well, all things come to those who wait..”

#mlp oc pony #carmen pondiego #ask blog #story update #ao3 fanfic #marehem #daring do #waldo #kiros #vasha vindragova #lekir #blendin #skyggja #sigryn #ninoga #asta #scp 079

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quite-right-too · 7 months

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Dona Nobis Pacem (Grant Us Peace) - Chapter Two

Summary: After preparing for the arrival of her new housemates, the last thing Rose expected was for one of them to be the man whose flat she had snuck out of the night before.

Another shoutout to @demdifferentstories-29 for helping me through all hours of the day considering we have an eighteen hour time difference. Without her, this fit would be in absolute chaos and disarray.

Read here on AO3

Oh shit.

Shitshitshit.

The man becoming her housemate was the guy she had just drunkenly shagged the night before.

His name is James and he’s standing in front of her, apparently just as caught off guard. No wonder his room was full of moving boxes — he was moving into her house.

Oblivious to everything, Jack and Donna were chatting away, going over the logistics of the moving trucks and how they’re planning on getting all of the furniture moved in properly. Jack turned his head to Rose.

“Hey, Rose,” he called, catching her attention, “could you show James up to his room? We’ll start taking care of everything down here.”

Rose’s breath caught in her throat and her heart started racing. “Yeah, of course.” It came out more as a weak stutter than an affirmation, but it wasn’t caught by anyone else’s ears. She nearly had to force her feet to unstick from their place by the front door so she could turn around. “Come on up — it’ll be the first door on the left.”

The creaking of the stairs filled the deafening silence as he was led to the second story of the house, which would now be his place of residence. A slight misstep of James’ foot, however, replaced the creak with a loud thud as he tripped.

“Oh, bollocks,” he grunted, frantically trying to catch himself before he made himself look like a fool even more.

“You alright?” Rose asked tersely. An embarrassed nod from him, followed by a subtle pink tinge to his cheeks, was enough to get her moving again. She did her best to avert her gaze as they continued their trek towards the bedrooms.

Rose wasn’t exaggerating when she said it would be the first door on the left. It was quite abrupt the way the stairs essentially met the door at the start of the hall. In fact, James could picture himself falling down the stairs in a hurry considering his previous mishap.

The door itself was nothing special — a simple off-white with a brass handle. He would much rather have it a different colour, though. Perhaps blue? Something not so… boring. Rose twisted the knob with a squeal, walking into the empty room. James followed, but not too close behind. He didn’t want to make things more awkward than they already were.

“So…” he started, looking around at the uncomplicated, plain room. The dark hardwood floors matched well with the coat of warm grey paint. “This is home now? I feel bad for the movers trying to get up those bloody stairs,” he tried to joke, looking over at Rose. The tension in the room had to be cut and he really didn’t want to be the one to do it.

Hesitantly, Rose closed the door and locked it. She watched the man in front of her freeze and heard his breath hitch. “Look, we both know what happened last night,” she said in a hushed tone. “They don’t.” Her eyes pointedly flickered in the direction of where the stairs would be, indicating that she was talking about Jack and Donna. "Let’s just leave it and not speak of it again. It’s the easiest thing to do if we’re going to be living together.” She was right and James knew it — there was no way they would be able to coexist with this difficult knowledge.

“Right. That would be best, I suppose,” he agreed, although not very enthusiastically. “I, uh… I should at least go grab my stuff from the car.” He desperately wanted out of this conversation and to just get moved in and settled.

As James walked out and, very carefully, treaded down the stairs, Rose let out a sigh she didn’t know she had been holding. The tension was going to kill her. This stupidly attractive bloke who she knows is great in bed is now going to be down the hall from her, and that thought was going to kill her. She could already feel herself starting to fall.

It wasn’t long before the movers arrived. A truck full of belongings and boxes was precariously backed up the driveway to make bringing in everything much easier.

Very carefully, movers brought in various large pieces of furniture in. The first bed frame that was brought in was made of this beautiful dark wood — a very ornate, deep mahogany. There were beautiful circles carved meticulously into the wood, the headboard bearing the largest cluster. The frame itself reminded Rose of something from the Victorian Era.

James came up from behind them, two cardboard boxes in his arms. He set them down gingerly, directing the movers carefully up the staircase. “The first room on the left, thanks,” he called out, pointing up to the door. The men carrying the frame followed his instructions, slowly making their way into the room. He made his way back towards the front door.

“Oh, and don’t trip,” Rose muttered to herself. Unfortunately, it was just loud enough for James to hear as he passed her on the way back to the moving truck.

He thanked the gods that she couldn’t see the embarrassed blush that spread across his face.

The living room was beginning to fill up with boxes as the four housemates brought them in while the movers brought the large pieces of furniture into the respective rooms. Once they had finished unloading the truck, it was now time to move the boxes upstairs.

“Bloody hell,” Donna muttered as she tried to sort the various boxes. Open boxes revealed pieces of art, folded clothing, and overall piles of clutter that was impossible to sort into a single category. “Oi, Spaceman!”

James hastily made his way down the stairs. “You don’t have to yell!” he chastised. His brow furrowed as he took in the irritation on his sister’s face, followed by her hands on her hips. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

The ginger gestured to the messy handwriting donning the boxes. “What is that supposed to say? I can’t read your chicken scratch!” She tossed her hands into the air as James knelt down to the floor, examining the boxes. He began to move them into separate piles, sighing loudly to indicate his displeasure at being pulled from his important work.

“This is yours, this is mine. See — easy enough to tell.” Upon closer inspection, you could vaguely tell that the boxes on the left said ‘James’, while the boxes on the right said ‘Donna’. “Blimey, was that so hard?” he asked, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, come off it, you prat,” Donna said — exasperated — before smacking James on the shoulder whilst he rolled his eyes, the gesture quickly turning into a flinch and an ‘Ow, Donna!’.

“Let me give you a hand with these,” Rose offered as she brought a couple more boxes in from the entryway. Picking up one from Donna’s pile, she helped the ginger woman bring her belongings up to her room.

“Sorry about him,” Donna huffed. “He’s usually not this disorganised, I swear.”

The blonde laughed, “‘S alright — I’ve got to deal with Jack and his antics. This isn’t anything new to me.” Donna was very quickly growing on her.

Stepping into Donna’s room, Rose found that the furniture definitely matched the owner. The walls were the same colour as James’, but her furniture was more of a modern style compared to the Victorian bed frame Rose had seen being brought up earlier. A simple, black bed frame with a bare mattress was situated in the middle of the back wall, matching nightstands on either side. A generic vanity in the corner next to a black wooden dresser were the only other pieces of furniture.

There was definitely a lot to unpack, and Rose figured that the rest of the room would come together soon.

Rose was about halfway down the stairs when it happened.

She slipped.

Frantically, Rose reached out to grab the railing. She was, unfortunately, just a fraction of a second too late.

Mentally preparing herself to land on her bum, she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. The sound of a box hitting the floor and the feeling of arms around her waist broke her out of the tension.

Opening her eyes, she was met with the brown gaze she was becoming far too familiar with for her comfort. However, the desire from the night before was completely replaced with concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low. James’ eyes searched hers, seemingly looking for any sign of pain or discomfort. Rose could’ve sworn that they dropped to her lips — even just for a second.

Rose felt her breath leave her body. “I— Yeah, ‘m fine,” she was able to muster in a tone that sounded a lot like a stutter. His face was inches from hers. She could feel his fingers tighten on her waist.

Before she could truly process it, he straightened himself up, giving her enough space to regain her footing. However, his hands stayed on her waist.

“You sure? Don’t want you tripping down the stairs again.” The amusement in his tone wasn’t lost on Rose and she couldn’t help but give him a tongue-in-teeth smile. He couldn’t help but flash a grin in return.

Rose noticed the box that had tumbled down between them.

“I hope there wasn’t anything fragile in there. Sorry.” She mentally frowned at the loss of contact when he stepped back ever so slightly, leaning down to pick it up.

“Nah, these are just clothes.” He held it with one arm precariously, his other arm ready in case Rose slipped on the staircase again. “Hopefully they’re alright — can’t have too many things broken once I start settling in,” he laughed, which was quickly followed by a wink.

He fucking winked at her.

The sound of Donna’s footsteps caused them to jump apart, the seemingly intimate moment they had shared now over. Awkwardly shuffling by, the two of them continued with the process of moving.

It wasn’t long until the evening rolled around. As the last of the necessary items were moved into James and Donna’s rooms, Rose felt like she could barely hold herself up on her own two legs. The soft grey couch in the now decluttered living room was particularly inviting. She flopped down onto the plush cushions, her aching feet relieved at the break.

Donna followed suit, settling on the opposite couch. “God, I’m absolutely starving,” she said, tossing her head back onto the couch and letting out a dramatic sigh.

Rose’s stomach grumbled in agreement. “Do you wanna order takeaway or something? There’s a good pizza place about fifteen minutes away.”

“Did you say pizza?” Jack called out from the kitchen. “I can go ahead and place an order right now.” There were no protests, so he took that as approval. “Okay, then, it’s settled. Everyone is getting pepperoni — no arguments about it.”

It didn’t take long for the takeaway to arrive. Not only did Jack get a very large pizza, but he also brought out several canned cocktails for everyone. “I brought these back from the last time I was in the States.” The cans were cold, condensation collecting on the outside.

“12.5% alcohol! Are you insane?!” James exclaimed, looking around the can at the various labels on it. “Are you trying to get us absolutely pissed?”

“It’s all part of the plan,” Jack smirked, setting a card game down on the table next to the half-empty box of pizza. “How about a little game for everyone to get to know each other?” Opening the box, he set the cards down on the table. “Since everyone has a drink, I figured this would be easy. Have you guys played ‘Never Have I Ever’?”

It seemed innocuous enough. The questions started out pretty simple, James having to pull the first one.

“Never have I ever been drunk on public transit.” His eyes darted between Rose and Jack as they both drank.

“Do we have to drink a second time if we were drunk together?” Jack asked, waggling his eyebrows at Rose. “Because I have some stories from that night that would—” He was cut off by an elbow to his ribs from the blonde sitting next to him.

“If you want to live past tonight, you’ll shut up.”

The game passed quickly as they drank more. Simple prompts like ‘Never have I ever dropped a baby’ and ‘Never have I ever gotten locked out of my house’ led to funny stories and giggles between them. Alcohol flowed as Rose told Donna an exciting story about Jack locking himself out of their flat in nothing but his boxers during Christmas and attempting to break back in, leading to an awkward knock on her door by the police who had Jack handcuffed in the back of their car.

“Never have I ever had a blistering sunburn,” Donna read smugly. James was the only one to drink, his pale complexion being a point in the conversation. SPF had not been a word in his dictionary that day, leaving the painful walk back to the hotel from the California beach that much more mortifying.

Rose pulled the next card, smiling as she read it. “Never have I ever painted a mural.” This time, it was her turn to be the lone drinker. The questioning glance from Donna gave her a chance to speak more on the topic. “I do a bit of art, just as a hobby. I got the opportunity to help paint the side of a little coffee shop in Chiswick and took it.” She couldn’t help the pull in her stomach at the way James looked softly at her when she revealed her artistic secret.

Everything was going so easy until Jack pulled the next card, “Never have I ever had a one night stand.”

Rose’s eyes met James’ and a look of horror flickered across his features. She was sure that her face donned a matching look, especially as she brought the bottle up to her lips and took a swig.

On the other side of the table, Donna’s eyes widened as she watched James do the same. “When did you, a skinny streak of nothing, have a flippin’ one night stand?” she asked incredulously. James’ face burned bright red as his sister stared him down. Blimey, she could be scary.

“Well, er,” James began to sputter, “it was fairly recent and—” He found that he could barely get the words out, his tongue feeling like it was stuck in his throat.

“How was it, Doc?” Jack laughed, leaning forward to look James in the eye. “Good, I’m assuming? Especially with how flustered you’re getting.” Leave it to the one and only Jack Harkness to push his friends on the matter of awkward sexual experiences.

Rose couldn’t help but blush herself at the thoughts racing through her head. All day she’d spent trying to keep them under control, but this silly little game seemed to render her attempts useless. The alcohol probably didn’t help, either.

James swallowed thickly. “Yes, it was good. Brilliant, even. Are you satisfied yet?”

“Would you ever do it again? Like, with that person?” Jack’s question hung precariously in the air. You could hear a pin drop with the silence that befell the room.

Locking eyes with Rose, James made a bold move, fueled by the liquid courage he had been consuming through the evening. He licked his lips, staring directly at her. “Absolutely.”

#my fic #my post #doctor who #tenth doctor #rose tyler #tenrose #ten x rose #timepetals #doctor who fanfiction #donna noble #jack harkness

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antiquecritique · 10 months

Text

|| Min-Ji & Duncan ||

It had been perhaps less than a week since a new place had opened up in Opulence, a strange and peculiar house which outwardly may not look like much more than a slightly out of place family home on the very border between Bowden and Dillon. Built before Bowden had been given all of its rows of townhouses in a neat line along its main street, the house seemed to stick out like a stubborn nail refusing to be hammered in, surrounded by its own patch of green where predominantly asphalt and bricks ruled. It broke the overall concept of the neighborhood but added significantly to its quaintness.

Right by the wrought iron gate which leads into the now fully restored from its previous weed-overgrown state of neglect front garden was an inconspicuous but unmistakable once noticed blue sign, hand-painted and weather-worn, simply informing ‘Antiquities’. Finding out what that meant exactly was only possible by asking the one and only person running and managing it, who was very often away or unreachable. But, at the very least, the place no longer looked abandoned and would never be locked again, at least not until its single resident and owner decided to mysteriously vanish without a trace once more, just like he did almost fifty years ago. How he got it back to looking livable in within a week with basically no noise complaints or any curiosity raised by the neighbors was yet another mystery…

Once through ‘Out of the Attic’s’ door though, a not entirely expected magic within awaited. There was not a single spot, place or corner in the shop that wasn’t intricate, old, peculiar or uniquely different. Yet everything came together in one perfectly arranged harmony, mixed styles, periods, materials and uses of every single piece of furniture and decoration somehow coexisting in a flurry of blended colors pleasing to both the eye and the soul. Nothing was out of place, nothing could be pointed out as something that did not belong, even if by all rights it could be called out as in one way or another mismatched. Medallion Baluch rugs were spread under early 19th century mahogany armchairs, art nouveau blended into rococo - you could sit in William and Mary style, lounge in Queen Anne, go through the drawers of Chippendale cabinets, write on Empire desks, draw French Restoration curtains, go through a hallway of gothic revival and then end up in an Elizabethan room only to decide to cook in a kitchen that appeared like it was brought not only from another time but from a whole other side of the world too.

A time machine glitched and spat ‘Out of the Attic’ out and now it was there, in Opulence, a little rusted, a little chipped, but very antique and vintage.

Maybe just like its owner, but one could never tell when it came to him. In one of the back rooms, he sat over a workbench, bent over a very purposefully directed light source which, even this early in the afternoon, was much needed to carefully and without any slip-ups bring a rough detail brush upon a tiny, rusted silver spoon in much need of a proper cleanup. Just a small first step on a long journey to its restoration to former shine and glory, requiring patience and a loving eye for details. A tinkle of a small bell above interrupted his peaceful focus, connected through the house by a tightened wire tied to the front door, a completely electricity-free motion sensor alerting him that someone had made an entrance. At no rush whatsoever, Duncan slipped off an old piece of magnifying head gear, too complicated to be called glasses. Everything was put down carefully before he rose and made his way to the front, to check who’d one of his first visitors since his arrival could be.

@min-ji-min

#::DuncanxMin-Ji #Hope this is alright <3

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shifttea · 1 year

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I love the aot size shifter headcannons can u PLEASE do more

Yes, yes and YES!!!!

I’m glad you enjoyed them!

Let’s add more characters this time!

G/t + AOT

Size shifter headcanons

At this point you already revealed your sizeshifting tendencies to the rest of the cadets

And they all have varying reactions

Armin is literally wondering how that is even scientifically possible

(Titans literally exist in your world, so stop worrying about this!)

But once he gets over that, you guys love to read the same books together, with one of you holding the other, depending on whichever size you are at the moment

Sasha is super jealous that, if you shrink down, you are able to have food the size of your body! That would be a dream come true for her! She also enjoys squishing your cheeks, big or small!

Levi, although he doesn’t show it, appreciates how you can fit into small spaces, especially for cleaning stuff. He also doesn’t mind peaceful coexisting with you, no matter your size.

I think Erwin just thinks of the different ways you can be useful for the Scouts, but at least he prevented you from being experimented/tortured by the government, so thanks i guess...

Imagine chilling in Mikasa’s scarf (although that thing hasn’t been washed in ages let’s imagine it’s clean) it would probably be very comforting, she would definelty make sure you won’t get hurt

You will be able to spar with Eren in his titan form, be careful though, even if you are the same size or bigger, his punches are much stronger as he is a titan

As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, Hange is super curious about your ability and loves being there whenever you shift, big or small!

Connie would love that you could help him create the perfect pranks, he also loves putting you in his pockets for some reason!

I think Ymir would love to tease you when you shrink, surprising you (maybe a bit of fearplay! 🥰), also petnames, like little mouse etc.

But when you grow, you are quick to switch the dynamics, teasing her back!

I think Historia would also love it when your tiny, but just so she can hold you, so when you’re tiny around her you are often in her hands, or on her shoulder, she is super gentle though, so don’t worry!

Although, Jean wouldn’t admit it, I think he would really like being held when you are bigger, giant or minigiant sized, but keep it a secret, he’ll try denying it!

Here is a scenerio that I thought of as well!

You always try to do your best when fighting titans, either when big or regular-sized, but there was once when you were in a situation where you had no more gas in your ODM gear, and no more energy to grow bigger.

But you could still go smaller, so that’s what you did

You shrank enough, so that the titans couldn’t sense you

And when your friends finally eradicated all the titans in the area, you were able to send a flare of colured smoke in the air, which helped them locate you and retrieve you

You were carried softly to safety, where you were able to regain enough energy to grow back to your normal state

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t headcanons #g/t writing #anime headcanons #aot headcanons #armin #mikasa #eren #levi #jean #erwin #hange #ymir #historia #sasha #aot #sizeshifter #size shifter #writing ⋚

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sunder-the-gold · 2 years

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Hi there! Love your RWBY meta analyses. Very intriguing, especially about the Brothers. Say, @luminigh had theorised that the Brothers are not actually gods, but aliens posing as gods instead, and with the CRWBY announcing that V9 would "change everything we know", I'm starting to think that the CRWBY are going for this angle. How would you feel about thus if it's true, and why? Personally, I think I'd only accept the "it's all aliens!" angle if they made it that the Brothers were ALIEN GODS, like aliens yes, but still godly by nature. What do you propose?

Okay, wow, so do NOT try to shift from Rich Text Editor to HTML mode after writing a long-ass reply to an Ask. Save that thing as a Draft first, because Drafts still handle that transition fine, while the Ask will instead become a blank white screen that effectively deletes everything.

And to get one more unpleasant thing out of the way, Luiminign blocked me at least a year ago. They didn’t say why and I’ve long forgotten what I suspected to to be the trigger. That’s just the normal Tumblr experience, really.

In Short

Luiminign’s prediction is entirely futile at best, and is inescapably self-defeating at worst.

Even if they hadn’t blocked me, I couldn’t put it any more pleasantly than that. It’s inherently doomed for three different reasons.

Distinction Without A Difference

Salem calling the two brothers “aliens” instead of “gods” would not have made them any weaker. Ruby Rose calling them “aliens” wouldn’t make her or the present form of humanity any stronger.

Remnant is a pale shadow of its former self. Salem led three armies of people who, individually, had more magical power than all four Seasonal Maidens combined. As one, they launched all of the magical destruction they could muster at the gods... and just one of the brothers scooped that barrage out of the air like a harmless soap bubble. Just as effortlessly, that one brother then produced a wave of extinction that wiped out every human being on the planet without disturbing a single leaf of plant-life, and he broke the moon by merely brushing it on his way out.

The only thing new on Remnant since then are the Relics, which is as much a creation of the gods as human magic was. If humans couldn’t use magic to harm the gods, there’s no way they could meaningfully turn the Relics against the gods either.

Luiminign cannot even claim that the gods have become weaker because of some notion that they depended on the faith of humanity to make them so strong. If humanity was so beneficial to the gods, why would the older brother need to deck the younger one to the floor before convincing him to make humanity together with him? And why would the younger one then so readily wipe out all of humanity instead of just a few to make an example of them?

Just Making The Problem Bigger

The only meaningful distinction between “gods” and “aliens” would be the possibility that the Two Brothers aren’t the only two of their kind in the universe, but rather just two members of an entire species.

But if someone hates how easily the Two Brothers alone can abuse humanity, why would that person want to make the problem worse by introducing even more gods of the same kind?

At least with just the present two gods, Ruby Rose has a chance to win peaceful coexistence by meeting the criteria of their deal with Ozma. But a third god, or an entire multitude of other gods, agreed to no such deal and can just wander in and fuck things up as they please.

Remnant doesn’t have the ability to defeat even one god, let alone survive the collateral damage of another divine war.

Not That Kind Of Story

Of course, CRWBY’s writers could change their minds and give Luiminigh the kind of ending where Team RWBY declares “There is no god!” and kicks alien ass because “Humanity, Fuck Yeah!”...

But doing so would totally contradict the established facts of the setting and compromise the themes of the work.

So it seems to me that Luiminign favors their imagination more than their sense of reason. If they refuse to accept what logic and facts tell them, then they have no choice but to retreat behind imagination and fiction. Which includes believing that Remnant's humans can likewise reject the Two Brothers' reality and substitute their own.

But reality is not democratic.

Many fans want to ignore it, but we were warned from the beginning: “There will be no victory in strength.”

=================================

back to my sub-index for the Two Brother Gods

back to my RWBY Meta index

#rwby #two brothers #brother gods #rwby meta #rwby predictions #rwby speculation #rwby analysis

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9r7g5h · 5 months

Text

Our Friend Shoto

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Boku no Hero Academia

Rating: E

Genre: Smut/Humor

Summary: It had made sense, after they'd graduated, for the three of them to live together.

At least until Katsuki and Izuku started fucking, and Shoto seemed to gain some vendetta against Katsuki getting laid.

Words: 5,809

It had made sense, after they'd graduated, for the three of them to live together. While sidekick pay was much more than what your average eighteen-year-old right out of high school normally made, it still would have been tight for them to each get their own place. Especially since Shoto, finally an adult, was determined to show his father that he could live without the number one hero paying for his shit, even if he had no idea how to make a budget. And with the remains of the League still stalking the underground, churning up rumors they weren’t sure if they would actually act on or not, the idea of sleeping alone was less than appealing.

So, with the reassurance that Katsuki hadn’t tried to kill either Shoto or Izuku in months, the fact that the three worked together well in a fight, and the agencies they had all signed up with being relatively close together, they found a nice little three bed, two bath apartment to move into. Surprisingly, the regret didn’t immediately set in.

It took them a bit to find a good routine to fall into, having to learn how to live together without seventeen other teenagers to act as some kind of barrier for their more frustrating personality traits. Izuku making breakfast, Katsuki taking over the more complicated lunches and dinners, Shoto banned from the kitchen after his disgraceful knife skills almost made Fumi cry from across the city. Shoto instead taking over a good amount of the cleaning to make up for his lack of cooking skills, Izuku keeping track of their schedules to organize friend gatherings and their combined merch collections, and Katsuki picking up whatever was left with only the minimal amount of yelling. An easy peace that allowed them to mostly coexist happily within their comfortable little apartment.

That all lasted until, finally, Izuku and Katsuki broke whatever mental barrier had been keeping them from just telling each other how they felt and they started fucking.

Whether it was just the boiling emotions that had been building for years finally coming through that led to the confession, or, you know, Katsuki being brained with a tire iron after forcing an extra out of the way and waking up in the hospital with a sobbing Deku wailing about how he never got to tell him he loved him, who could say? But it turned out that when you were in love with your childhood friend, said childhood friend returned said affections, and there was a perfectly good apartment with two beds and a kitchen table, things happened. Quickly. And often, because sure, they were sidekicks, heroes in training, dedicated to taking the number one spot, but apparently, it wasn’t that hard to be a hero and get your dick wet too, especially when you lived with your hot-ass boyfriend.

And maybe, just maybe, there were more important things sometimes than being number one. Like counting the number of freckles scattered across Izuku’s cheeks when he napped on the couch and the sunlight was just right to illuminate even the lightest of them. Yeah, that was pretty damn important.

Both of them would have had different answers about what caused it, if anyone in their combined friend groups had cared enough to ask, but just seeing them happy was enough. Seriously. Just the emotion was enough, could they please try and keep it PG when the rest of them were around? Tenya had had enough heart attacks looking over to see them copping a feel in the first few weeks to last him a lifetime, they could can it. Or at the very least keep it in the privacy of their own home, instead of trying to pretend the karaoke lights were low enough that no one saw them necking in the corner booth.

Except that was the issue, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just their home, and while Shoto was great at reading a battlefield, his ability to read the room was still sorely lacking, no matter how many times others had tried to help. Meaning no matter how many times Katsuki yelled at him, threatening to blow up the other side of his face so he matched, the icy-hot motherfucker didn’t get it.

And it was Katsuki’s dick that was suffering for it.

“Fuck, ‘Zuku, baby, your mouth feels so damn good.”

It never took much to get them like this; Katsuki leaning against the nearest stable surface, pants pulled down just enough to free his cock, Izuku on his knees before him, fingers sparking with green lightning as he controlled just how fast and hard and deep Katsuki could fuck into his mouth. Lips and tongue playing with the head and slit and occasionally slipping down to take him deeper, glancing up to look at the blond with a swallow that Izuku knew always took him close, especially like this, when he was being played like a toy in Izuku’s mouth to keep him entertained until something more fun came along. His legs were shaking, muscles trembling from the aborted thrusts, so close to begging to do something, anything that wasn’t this teasing that could just go on and on for however long Izuku wanted to play with him, however long he wanted his mouth busy sucking.

Katsuki keened as Izuku pushed down, swallowing thickly around his dick, nose almost fully flushed with his pelvis as he swallowed again, and again, the coaxing rubs on his thighs and disappearance of his quirk enough permission for him. Hands tangling in thick green hair, Katsuki slowly dragged his dick from Izuku’s mouth, shuddering at the feeling of his tongue laving over every inch it passed until just the tip rested against his lips, an almost kiss. “Ready for me to destroy your throat,” Katsuki huffed, both of them knowing he’d be lucky to last more than a few thrusts before he was coming in his mouth, but the words were still enough to darken Izuku’s eyes that last little bit. Enough for him to open his mouth willingly, hands that had been prisons on his hips now digging into his ass, pulling him closer, needy in his own silent way. Katsuki touched the tip of his dick to Izuku’s tongue-

“I think there might be a Studio Ghibli extended universe. Would you like to come see my vision board and watch the movies with me?”

To say he almost saw God would be an overstatement, perhaps, but as he and Izuku jerked away from each other, Izuku’s teeth clacking together just where his dick had been a moment before, Katsuki easily believed the phrase was accurate, his balls and dick hurting for another reason besides their denied release. Quickly he tucked himself back into his pants, glad they were loose enough to not rub insistently against him, while Izuku stood and wiped his face against his sleeve, trying to ignore the permanent flush covering his cheeks.

“You ever hear of knocking, you fucking knockoff thermostat,” Katsuki growled, turning once his pants were decent enough to glare at his roommate. “We were kind of in the middle of something.”

Looking around the room, Katsuki's room, by the way, the one closest to the front door so they could just stumble in and get started, Shoto shrugged a moment later, jerking his head towards the door. “Nothing important if you could stop it that easily. Come on, I think I might really have something here. Could be the start of my, as Mina puts it, ‘Heartthrob detective with an angsty backstory’ arc.” He left the door wide open - another thing he would have to explode his face in for.

Besides him, Izuku just sighed and took a step forward, the second quickly aborted as hot hands wrapped around his waist. "Where the hell do you think you're going," Katsuki growled, voice low in his ear, pressing his front hard against Izuku's ass. "We're not done yet." A few nips up the back of his neck, a kiss behind the ear that normally had him melting, Katsuki turned Izuku in his arms and leaned down to give him a kiss.

Only to be met with a finger on his lips, the slightest tint of green holding him back as Izuku gave him a semi-amused, semi-apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Kacchan, but now that he's here and waiting on us..."

"I'm going to fucking kill him," Katsuki grumbled, redirecting his kiss so it landed on Izuku's forehead instead. "You go listen to whatever rambling he wants to do, I'll come join after I get rid of this." He rolled his hips against Izuku's once more; teasing, being a little shit, he knew, smirking as the flush on his cheeks deepened, before letting his boyfriend go. "But I don't want to hear a single word from him until dinner, or I will blow off the left side of his dick and ball."

"Only the left side?"

"That's his ice side; it's his favorite."

Izuku left at that with a laugh, head thrown back to give a perfect sight of the throat he had just been about to cum down, his dick twitching sadly at the reminder. Katsuki groaned as he flopped onto the bed, waiting as the door clicked shut to start shimmying off his pants.

The fucking stupid thing was Izuku kept making excuses for the two-bit asshole too. About how he was traumatized, how he hadn't had a normal family with normal boundaries, how just barging into bedrooms had been normalized for him, even if he should have learned better in the dorms. A sheepish Izuku who had just pointed out all the times his friends had barged in on each other in their dorm rooms when something important was happening (though, important could range from a villain attack to a new movie commercial they'd all been waiting for).

"It's not like we were having sex at school, Kacchan, so it wasn't a big deal then!"

Which, alright, fine. Katsuki could begrudgingly accept that, especially since Shoto had been making progress. More often than not now he was knocking, if just not waiting for a response, but he was learning. It was like training a dog, or a small child, and as annoying as it was, he could put up with it.

What he couldn't put up with were the situations where he knew the fucker knew better, and he was sure the asshole was just fucking with him.

Because who the fuck thought walking in on people in the shower was a good idea?

It'd been their day off, just the two of them, that rare golden day when nothing went wrong and their schedules aligned, letting Katsuki and Izuku lay in bed and do nothing but eat, sleep, and enjoy each other's company in the freedom of their home. Or it should have been, had a pipe in their little wash closet not burst, leaving the two of them scrambling for towels and the number of a plumber before the disgusting puddle could spread and destroy their shit. While a guy'd been able to come by quick, using his quirk to switch out the broken pieces and wield them all back into place (and field a dozen questions a second from a fascinated Izuku), most of their lazy day had been lost to cleaning after he'd left. Mopping, washing, scrubbing down everything that could have been touched by the water that came from who knows where - a full-time task, even with Blackwhip helping out, leaving them both sweating and panting in a way Katsuki hadn't been imagining earlier.

But the post-clean-up cleanup had been worth it, the only thing saving the shitty day.

"Harder, Kacchan, please!"

Katsuki immediately complied, shifting his legs for a better stance as one hand braced them against the still cool tiles of the bathroom wall, the other digging into Izuku's ass as he pounded harder into him, drinking in the pleased moans the new angle forced from his lips. Already his head was swimming - the steam in his lungs; the just on the right side of burning water hitting his back; Izuku's mouth on his neck, the top of his chest, his own mouth as Izuku tried to claim whatever little bit of Katsuki he could reach in his current position, back against the wall and legs hooked over Katsuki's arms, bent almost in half so his perfect ass could be fucked. Katsuki had known going in he wouldn't last long, shower sex never did, especially with all the teasing Izuku loved to do leading to one of them bent over or hiked up the other's hips, but this had been building the whole day, a promise of a promise after they were done saving their home.

Thank fuck Izuku had learned how to control OfA, because Float made it a hell of a lot easier to fuck like this, tired and straining to keep them both from slipping on the wet floor, letting him focus just on the tight wet warmth around his dick. On the way Izuku was getting louder, clenching harder, feet pointing and toes curling as he drove right into his spot over and over, his cock twitching and even through the water clearly leaking between them. On one hand leaving where his nails had been digging into Katsuki's shoulder, instead reaching down to stroke himself, Izuku's constant mutterings of 'So good,' 'the best,' and broken attempts at his name mixed with his moans as Katsuki watched, never letting his hips stop the pace he'd set for them both.

Let him lose himself in Izuku as his boyfriend came, spilling over his own hand as his ass clenched around Katsuki, drawing Katsuki in with every pulse even as his head tilted back, water flowing over his forehead and down his face as he tried to last a little bit longer, tried to stretch out that cord in his stomach raveled so tight it was about to break, because right this moment was heaven enough for him to sell his soul to whatever demon Izuku actually was if he could just keep enjoying it a little bit longer. After a moment he pressed forward instead, flattening Izuku between the wall and his chest, never stopping his movements as he drew closer to his release, Izuku's cries of overestimation pushing him on, edging him forward, letting him close in on that breaking point he so sorely needed-

"I got your text about the pipe breaking. Did you still need me to bring home anything or I should just go and ask after your shower, but if you could hurry it up I do have some questions."

Surprised by the blast of cold air from the door opening and closing on that two-toned dick, Katsuki's footing finally slipped, only avoiding busting open his head by Izuku's quick thinking of twisting in the air to grab him. Ass in the air, hands under Katsuki's armpit as he steadied his boyfriend, Izuku slowly lowered himself to the ground, hands running over him to check for injury.

"You alright, Kacchan?"

"Why won't you just let me murder the fucker already? We'll send his head to Endeavor, make all of us happy - we'll be alone, he'll upset the old bastard one more time, the flaming fart will knock off trying to get one of us to come back to him. It's really a win-win situation." Even as he spoke, Katsuki had his arms back around Izuku, his hands on his hips, trying to maneuver them back into some kind of position so they could finish. Or at least he could finish, whether it was in Izuku's ass or between his thighs or some other way his boyfriend could think of, though if he did his job right hopefully Izuku would be coming again with him. Coming and then getting all soft and snuggly in bed the way he always did when he was satisfied and spent, looking at Katsuki like he was the best thing in the world - probably the third or fourth best part of this whole arrangement.

Only for Izuku to giggle and slip from his arms, leaving behind the warmth of the shower for his towel, the smile thrown over his shoulder equal parts bashful and sly. "I'll make it up to you later, ok, Kacchan?" A little blown kiss before he left, the gust of wind once again passing over Katsuki as the door opened and shut, this time alone in the too-hot shower with the painfully hard dick and nothing but his hand. Again.

"Fuck!"

To be fair, Izuku did try to make it up to him a few hours later, only for that attempt to be, once again, interrupted by their fucking roommate. Not by knocking, no, this time he had to almost set the apartment on fire. Stupid fuck.

For four fucking months this went on, almost as if Icy Hot had some sort of vendetta against him getting laid. It wasn't every time they fucked - more often than not (if only by the barest percentage - he was keeping track) the two of them were finished before Shoto got home, basking in their post-cum cuddle before having to go back out and deal with his idiotic behavior. His timing when he did pop up was perfect though, it seemed, because almost every interruption was after Izuku had gotten off, but before Katsuki himself could, often leaving him high and dry with Izuku too embarrassed to continue. Leaving Izuku happy to shrug off his behavior, pointing out his improvement like some dog trainer proud the mutt had stopped pissing on the couch, unbothered the same way Katsuki and his balls were.

But that couldn't last forever.

"Gonna ride you 'till you're shooting blanks," Katsuki panted into his ear, very much not helping as Izuku tried to get the keys into the lock, "and then I'm gonna somehow fuck another load from you. You told the reporter to 'die and go to hell,' 'Zuku, that was so fuckin' hot." His hard-on pressed against Izuku's ass, hands pawing at his clothes, desperate to start taking them off even before they got into their rooms.

"He pushed a kid, Kacchan, right in front of me! How could anyone expect me to just be nice and answer his questions when he did that?"

"Still hot as shit."

The two of them stumbled through the door, barely getting their shoes off before Katsuki lifted Izuku into his arms, clearly impatient with their current speed. Izuku wanted to protest - they were both disgusting, sweaty, and covered in whatever grime they had picked up on their patrols, and he was pretty damn sure at least one of the stains on Katsuki's pants was someone else's blood. They could slow down, make out in the shower, maybe talk over dinner since it'd been almost a week since their timelines had matched up like this and he had missed Katsuki, maybe-

Every maybe was lost as he was dropped onto their mattress, watching as his boyfriend stripped, naked before him too quickly for him to think about stopping the show. "Do you like that suit?"

Glancing down, Izuku shook his head, confused. "It's one of my older ones. I'll probably have to retire it in a couple of months so Mei-" Hot hands, burning cloth, and ripping fabric that should have been able to withstand One for All cut him off, Katsuki smirking as he sank to his knees between Izuku's own.

"You're retiring it now."

And all protests were cut off into a warbling keen as he went to work, licking and kissing and sucking him hard. Hands never losing their heat as they tore the hole bigger, leaving everything Katsuki wanted access to bare. Izuku hadn't noticed when he'd grabbed the lube from their bedside table but one slick finger quickly became two became three inside his ass, stretching and working him open in a way that let him know just how desperate Katsuki was, that this would be tight and filing and too quick but so good.

"Ring."

His mind was already too hazy to recognize words, whimpering at the loss of both fingers and mouth. It took a sharp pop against his thigh to get the wires to connect again, to make him raise his head from the pillow he hadn't realized he had been half burrowed into to see what Katsuki wanted. Reaching blindly around in the drawer he found the cockring, fumbling as he went to snap it on, only for a hand to stop him, air from a half laugh brushing his wet dick.

"Never said it was for you, babe." That made Izuku push himself fully onto his elbows, staring in awe as Katsuki went back to sucking on him, one hand reaching behind him to finger himself open, the other slipping the ring down his length, behind his balls, shuddering as he clasped it in place. More lube messily squeezed onto his free hand, said hand replacing his mouth as he nipped at the small sliver of his thighs that showed, the hand behind him still working himself open. "I said I was gonna ride you first before I fucked you, didn't I, Deku?"

His dick was slick and Katsuki was moving, straddling his legs, gripping the base tight as he lined them up. Leaning forward to give him a kiss, just as harsh and demanding as the man on top of him always was, desperate and wanting and agonizing as he finally began to sank down, as Izuku felt his tip press against him, as-

"Midoriya, your new Heroes Weekly arrived. I placed it on the kitchen table. There's... Oh."

Too many things happened all at once to keep track of: Izuku's hips bucking in surprise, Katsuki's leg sliding out from under him as he half turned to snarl at their roommate, the pained high-pitched yelp as Katsuki's ass met Izuku's hips far too fast without any of the control he'd been planning. Shoto's quick apologies as he backed away and closed the door ignored as Izuku tried to sit up, only to be met with one crackling hand, Katsuki's head bowed as he refused to look at him. His other hand quickly pulled off the ring, throwing it off somewhere into the room, most likely leaving a mess behind for one of them to clean up later.

"We're never talking about this again," Katsuki growled, voice pained and wavering as he pulled himself from Izuku's still-hard cock, stumbling as his feet hit the ground. Leaning over to grab one of the pieces of clothing left on the floor, he threw it at Izuku's face, still refusing to look at him. "Wash your dick, then come to bed. You have five minutes if you don't want to sleep on the fucking couch."

Neither of them acknowledged his limp as Katsuki stormed from the room the best he could, though it was clear Izuku wanted to say something. Guilt in his eyes, his lip caught between his teeth, his face scrunched up in that ugly way it got as he tried not to cry, dick wilting. But in perhaps trying to let Katsuki keep the slightest shred of his dignity left, neither of them spoke.

It was well past five minutes when Izuku slid into bed behind him, wrapping his arm around Katsuki's waist, his forehead pressing hard between his shoulders. It was less of a spoon and more of a koala parasite, but Katsuki still allowed it, though he angled his hips away when Izuku tried to press them flush against each other, leaving some space between his ass and Izuku's front. He wanted nothing touching him there right then, especially his boyfriend's dick.

"What if we got a place of our own? Just for the two of us?"

"Are you fucking shitting me?" The elbow to Izuku's stomach was a bit harder than Katsuki had intended, but fuck it. "I tell you the walking travel mug has been fucking with our sex life for months now, and it's excuses and bullshit, but you get blueballed one fucking time and you suddenly think we should move? I should dump your ass right now and move out on my own, you piece of shit hypocrite."

"Kacchan, no," Izuku whined, drawing out the 'o' as he nuzzled everything he could reach, squirming up to press apologetic kisses to the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, I just thought he was getting better and this kind of thing would stop."

"Well, it hasn't, and you're not the one with a sore ass because of it." He was still pissed, grumbling and scowling at the wall, but even so, Katsuki could feel himself relaxing under the rain of kisses, semi-distracting him from the uncomfortable throb down below. "If we're getting a new place it better be fucking good. We're not brand-new sidekicks anymore, we can afford a decent one-bedroom with a great kitchen. I want counter space, damn it."

"Of course," Izuku agreed, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. "Whatever you want, Kacchan." Another handful of kisses, lulling Katsuki close to sleep, disgustingly soft now that he had a promise of them finding somewhere new.

At least until Izuku rolled his hips, his renewed hard-on clear and present.

"Fuck no. You've got a hand, use it. Now you know what I've been dealing with you shitty nerd."

"But Kacchan."

It didn't take them long to find a place; now that Deku had recognized the urgency of the situation, Katsuki had been determined to find them somewhere fast. He'd been half tempted to just kick Todoroki (he was the problem, not them), but Izuku's damn softness had kept them from leaving him homeless on the curb. So, instead, Katsuki had searched. And just like with everything in his life, he'd succeeded in his goal, finding the perfect place for them a few weeks later - a cute little one bed, one bath, with enough of a living room they could have their respective extras over and a kitchen he could actually cook in, not just throw together whatever was available. The location was a bit further away, but not everything could be perfect.

Approval took no time - the little old landlady was more than happy to have some "nice upcoming heroes" in her building. Leasing out their old place wasn't a problem either; Mina and Camie took what used to be his old bedroom, Shinso taking Izuku's, and with his lease almost up, Sero slid in to live with Todoroki ("Did you know they were dating?" "Not a fucking clue."). It might have been a bit weird, going from three to five, but Shoto seemed unbothered the entire time. Fucking good for him, the bastard. With enough hands and quirks (he'd give it to Pink Cheeks, Gravity made moving their heavier shit fast and easy), soon enough the two of them were alone.

Something he took full advantage of the moment the extras left, fed and tipsy as payment for their services, and the door locked after their quickly retreating backs.

The thick fingers in his ass had him thrusting up into Izuku's warm wet mouth, arching back against the cold tile of their new kitchen floor as he tugged on green curls, moaning each time they pressed and stroked against his spot and Izuku swallowed around him, lips stretched wide around the base of his dick. The lewd sound of lube slicking the way as Izuku thrust his fingers into him, stretching him out, had him flushing red, but the thrumming in his stomach couldn’t let Katsuki care for too long as he finally kicked him away, pulling his boyfriend up to kiss him hard, nipping at his lower lip before he flipped himself onto his hands and knees, ass swaying temptingly. He didn’t care how, he just needed to finally get off now.

“Come on, Zuku,” Katsuki murmured over his shoulder, lifting his hips so Izuku could palm his ass, lining himself up. “Show me what you got, nerd.”

The first thrust took the air from his chest, Izuku’s hands tight on his hips to keep him from skidding across the tiled floor, lips hot and wet on the back of his neck as Izuku gave him a moment to adjust. A moment too long, in Katsuki’s opinion, as he rocked back as much as that iron grip would allow, clenching hard around the length inside him as he tried to tempt Izuku to move. And move he did, because fuck his hips weren’t only for kicks and flips, but the power behind them was more than enough to drive deep into Katsuki, to sink his dick deep enough that each thrust hit home, forcing his eyes closed because otherwise it was too overwhelming, the kitchen light battling with the stars that shone behind his eyelids and made him unable to do anything but feel.

Feel the bruises forming on his hips in the shape of Izuku’s fingers, every brush against his prostate, the bites and kisses and nips on every inch of skin Izuku could reach, because both of them liked to bite. The cold tile heating up under his palms, forcing him to curl in his fingers so he didn’t put holes in their damn floors the first day they lived there, dropping to his elbows to support himself as he was fucked lest he be knocked on his face. His nerd’s muttering about how good, how wet, how tight he was forcing his face redder than before, making him clench down harder because fuck if he didn’t have a praise kink, drilled into him by the years of those green eyes looking at him like he was some god while praising him, making him burn.

A hand in his hair, forcing him to arc back, his head turned to meet Izuku’s lips, the other leaving his hip to wrap around his dick and Katsuki was gone, spilling between his fingers, onto their brand new floor, moaning into his mouth as he felt him come as well, not evening caring as Izuku filled his ass with cum, hot and wet and messy as he continued to thrust into him, helping him ride out each pulse of his orgasm, hand stroking him in time with the uneven thrusts he was keeping up. Part of Katsuki knew he’d bitch about it later in the shower when they were cleaning up, but right then and there he was finally getting off, no worries and without having to hurry to avoid their dumbass roommate interrupting them, letting him go boneless against the floor, pressing his face against it in an attempt to cool down, ignoring the uncomfortable squelch as Izuku pulled out to instead bask in the feeling of release.

At least, that had been the plan, until those strong hands flipped him onto his back, a playful glint in Izuku’s eyes as he licked at Katsuki’s tip, traitorous organ twitching in interest at being manhandled and the kitten licks suddenly making their way up and down his length.

“I figured I owe you quite a few, since we kept getting interrupted,” Izuku said, nuzzling at his hip, licking a bead of sweat that had pooled in the divet, a pleased noise leaving his lips. “So...”

Izuku just straddled him, smirking that way that was only for him, before reaching behind and shifting, moaning as he worked his hand behind his back. For a moment Katsuki thought he was fingering himself, energy rushing back through his veins and back into his dick, hardening almost painfully fast, only to freeze as he watched his boyfriend let out a stuttering gasp as the fucking plug he'd apparently been wearing this whole time (when had he put that in? Had he been wearing it the whole day? Hot.) dropped to the floor, rolling off somewhere as Izuku raised his hips to press the tip of Katsuki dick against his hole. His wet, welcoming hole that Katsuki knew would feel so fucking good around him even with the threat of being overstimulated, that he could spend hours fucking if Izuku would let him.

Slowly Izuku lowered himself down, ignoring Katsuki’s hands on his thighs trying to speed up his movements, taking his time rocking his hips and letting himself get comfortable, making sure neither of them ended it too quickly. They were both tired from the move, sensitive, had been pushed over that sweet edge once already and while being pros gave them great stamina, that didn’t mean they could just rush from one to the next without suffering for it. Finally, at Katsuki’s whine, he started to move, riding his dick with a slow, torturous pace that had both of them gasping, Izuku’s hands clawing at Katsuki’s pecs, his own digging into Izuku’s thighs as he rocked up to meet him, trying to survive that pace.

A pace he couldn't take anymore, flipping them, knocking the wind from Izuku as his back hit the floor and not giving him a second to recover as Katsuki thrust hard back into him, setting a brutal clip that had him wailing beneath him, nails clawing at his back, sinking his teeth into Izuku's neck, all of it spurred on by the feeling of Izuku's own cum dripping down the back of his balls.

It was only polite to return the favor, right?

At their old apartment, Shoto was serious as he looked at his new roommates, pizza piled high on the table in front of him. It was a comfortable companionship they'd already fallen into as they waited to begin, but first, he had to make sure his efforts were rewarded.

His eyes would never recover, but his stomach at least could profit.

"I'm never buying again, right?" He confirmed, looking around at each one of his friends, meeting their gaze and waiting until they nodded before moving on to the next. "I've paid more than my fair share with the things I've had to see to get us here."

"Don't be so dramatic, we all know the deal," Shinso sighed, setting up his screen at the head of the table. "You got us a place to play, you don't have to pay. Now all of you, get out your dice. It's been way too long. Who has their notes from the last session?"

Taking out his character sheet, Shoto sent one last quick mental apology to his friends, especially Katsuki, for having to game them so hard. But, truthfully, was he actually at fault?

Maybe now they'd learn some manners and not be so loud when people were trying to d&d.

[END]

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nicklloydnow · 7 months

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“In the midst of the raging war in Ukraine, Washington’s attention is understandably focused on maintaining robust Western support for Ukraine’s valiant effort to thwart Russia’s aggression and expel it from its territory. The setbacks of Ukraine’s ongoing counteroffensive have made it clear that victory will not come soon, if at all. A long war of attrition lies ahead.

But the conflict will eventually end, and the United States will remain faced with the question of Russia. Win, lose, or draw, Russia is not going to disappear as a major challenge.

Despite some Western pundits’ breathless predictions, the chances of Russia’s breaking up as a consequence of the war are negligible. Unlike the Soviet Union in its agony, Russia is held together by powerful centripetal forces, including patriotism and xenophobia, supply chains and critical infrastructure, not to mention the powerful security services that want to draw on the resources of the entire country. Although there are substantial minorities, notably the Tatars in the Volga region, and whiffs of separatism, the country remains overwhelmingly ethnic Russian, and countries that are ethnically homogenous rarely, if ever, break up from internal causes.

(…)

Barring extraordinary developments, post-conflict Russia, with or without Vladimir Putin at the helm, is most likely to be some recognizable version of its historical self, authoritarian in domestic structure, expansionist in impulse, economically and technologically lagging, yet determined to play the role of a great power. This Russia will be a U.S. rival, as it has been since the United States emerged as a global power at the very end of the 19th century, with clashing geopolitical ambitions and an opposing worldview.

And this Russia will still matter. Because of its large nuclear arsenal, cyber and space capabilities, and military potential, it will continue to be a key factor in strategic stability. Any code of conduct for cyberspace would be incomplete if it did not include Russia. Retarding the spread of weapons of mass destruction and containing Iranian and North Korean nuclear ambitions will require U.S.-Russian cooperation.

Russia will also remain a critical component of European security. The immediate question is whether Europe’s security architecture needs to be redesigned to protect the continent from Russia over the long term, or whether it might prove possible to build that architecture in cooperation with Russia once the acute phase of the war in Ukraine has passed. But either way, Europe will not escape the conundrum it has faced for at least 200 years: How to manage relations with a huge country to the east that is alien in spirit but central to the continent’s security.

(…)

In short, the United States will not be able to ignore Russia. But, contrary to current thinking in Washington today, the challenge is not to contain Russia. Instead, we need to figure out how to harness its power for American purposes in the global arena.

The three tasks that have defined relations with Russia for the past half-century or more should continue to inform American policy. First is the pursuit of peaceful coexistence to reduce to the minimum the risk of a nuclear cataclysm — an imperative for the two rivals that together control close to 90 percent of the world’s nuclear weapons. Second is the responsible management of the inevitable competition to avoid a direct military confrontation which could escalate to nuclear war, especially in Europe, the Middle East and the Arctic, where Russia plays prominent roles. And third is mutually beneficial cooperation to meet urgent transnational threats, such as climate change, the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction, international terrorism and pandemics, among other things. In current circumstances, a fourth should be added: structuring relations with Russia to best position the United States to deal with its major strategic rival, China.

(…)

To start, while there is good reason to seek to weaken Russia so that it lacks the capacity to invade any European country, seeking to cripple the Russian economy actually jeopardizes American interests. As Washington understood during the final days of the Soviet Union, it needs a Russia strong enough to reliably control its arsenal of weapons of mass destruction, the vehicles to deliver them, and the materials and knowledge to build them. Russia should also be strong enough to govern its own territory effectively and to prevent severe domestic instability, which would inevitably spill over into neighboring regions. And it should be strong enough to negotiate and implement agreements to reduce the production of greenhouse gases and to mitigate the damaging consequences of the Arctic’s rapid warming.

More controversially, Washington has an interest in a Russia strong enough to play a role in sustaining stable regional balances of power along its long periphery in Eurasia. An overly weak Russia would enable China to gain effective control of Russia’s natural resources, especially in the Russian Far East, thus substantially enhancing its own power at little cost. A weak Russia would also jeopardize stability in the Arctic and reliable management of the Northern Sea Route, while encouraging a greater Chinese presence, to America’s detriment. And, ironically, a weak Russia would threaten to erode the West’s unity, which is preserved to a great degree by a continuing fear of Russian power, as we have seen since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.

(…)

Three issues will dominate U.S. relations with Russia in the years ahead: Strategic stability, European security and China.

Strategic Stability: The era of strategic stability based on an interlocking set of U.S.-Russian bilateral nuclear arms control treaties has ended irretrievably. The strategic landscape is rapidly becoming ever more complex and multipolar. China’s expansion and modernization of its nuclear arsenal mean that any future nuclear arms control agreement will have to be trilateral, at a minimum. Technological advance — artificial intelligence, precision-guidance systems — enlarge the sphere of strategic weaponry, while the proliferation of missile technology and cyberweapons multiply the number of countries that can impact the strategic equation.

(…)

European Security: The major challenge will be reconciling Russia to a situation in which for all practical purposes it is no longer inside Europe but rather compelled to deal with a more or less politically consolidated Europe. In Moscow’s view, that arrangement denies it the strategic depth it has seen as essential to its security and creates on its borders a state-like entity that dwarfs it in population, wealth, and power potential, much as the United States does today. The great irony of course is that it is precisely Russia’s invasion of Ukraine that accelerated movement toward this outcome.

(…)

China: Despite Russia’s current close strategic alignment with China, underlying frictions could resurface quickly as China’s rapid economic growth and technological advance widen the gap in power between the two countries, and Beijing’s geopolitical ambitions further encroach on Russia’s influence in the former Soviet space. Russia is already hedging against an excessive reliance on its giant Asian neighbor, in part by seeking to embed it in multilateral forums that constrain its ambitions, such as the Shanghai Cooperation Organization and the BRICS.

(…)

No matter what happens in Ukraine, the United States is not about to rid itself of Russia. Even when seemingly weak, Russia has an uncanny ability to make its presence felt on the global stage, and opportunities to do so will multiply as the U.S.-led world order comes under increasing stress and slowly gives way to a new one in which power will be more diffused.

In this emerging order, the challenge for the United States is not to defeat Russia, as much of the American foreign policy establishment would now have it, but rather to skillfully exploit relations with a rival to construct a new global equilibrium that advances American interests.

To do that, the United States needs to see Russia plainly and without sentiment. Getting Russia right, as so often in the past, still remains critical to America’s future.”

“Armenia’s parliament voted Tuesday to join the International Criminal Court, a move that further strains the country’s ties with its old ally Russia after the court issued an arrest warrant for President Vladimir Putin over events in Ukraine.

Moscow last month called Yerevan’s effort to join the the ICC an “unfriendly step,” and the Russian Foreign Ministry summoned Armenia’s ambassador. Countries that have signed and ratified the Rome Statute that created the ICC are bound to arrest Putin, who was indicted for war crimes connected to the deportation of children from Ukraine, if he sets foot on their soil.

Armenia later sought to assure Russia that Putin would not be arrested if he entered the country.

Still, Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov called Tuesday’s decision “incorrect,” saying it will raise “additional questions” in Moscow, even though Armenia is “our ally, a friendly state, our partner, and a lot unites us with the brotherly Armenian people.”

Asked if Putin would have to refrain from traveling to Armenia, he added: “Of course, we wouldn’t want the president to have to ever, for whatever reason, refuse a visit to Armenia.”

(…)

Armenian officials have argued the move has nothing to do with Russia and was prompted by what they call Azerbaijan’s aggression against the country.

Lawmakers voted to ratify the Rome Statute by a vote of 60-22. The measure goes next to Armenia’s president, who must prepare a ratification document, which is then deposited with the U.N. secretary-general. The decision comes into force 60 days after the ratification, according to Armenian lawmakers.

(…)

In 2020, Moscow brokered a deal that ended a six-week war between Armenia and Azerbaijan. It mandated that Yerevan cede to Baku large swaths of territory in and around Nagorno-Karabakh, a part of Azerbaijan with a predominantly Armenian population.

Russia then sent some 2,000 peacekeepers to the tumultuous region and Armenia has accused the troops of failing to prevent recent hostilities by Azerbaijan that led to Baku taking full control of the region.

The Kremlin, in turn, has accused Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan of precipitating the fall of Nagorno-Karabakh by acknowledging Azerbaijan’s sovereignty over the region.

Moscow also blames Yerevan for damaging ties with Russia by embracing the West, including hosting U.S. troops for joint military drills.

It remains unclear whether Pashinyan might take Armenia out of the Moscow-dominated Collective Security Treaty Organization, a group of several former Soviet nations, and other Russia-led alliances. Armenia also hosts a Russian military base and Russian border guards help patrol Armenia’s frontier with Turkey.

Armenia had started the process of joining the ICC more than 20 years ago, but in 2004 its Constitutional Court ruled that the Rome Statute contradicted the country’s constitution at the time, putting the process on pause. The constitution has been amended twice since then. In March, the Constitutional Court ruled that the obligations for signatories outlined by the Rome Statute are in line with the existing constitution.

(…)

Human Rights Watch hailed Armenia’s move and urged other countries in the region to follow its example.

“Armenia’s decision to join the International Criminal Court in the face of strong opposition – including from Russia – deserves international support,’' Balkees Jarrah, associate international justice director at Human Rights Watch, said in a statement.

(…)

Yerevan wants the ICC’s jurisdiction to take force starting from May 10, 2021, but under the court’s founding treaty, Armenia would likely have to make a separate declaration to that effect.

Kirakosyan said last week that Armenia has proposed to Moscow a bilateral agreement to assuage Russia’s concerns about Putin. The text was presented to Russia in April, he said, and Armenian officials have been waiting for a response.

Kirakosyan also said an arrest of Putin is not a possibility even after Armenia joins the ICC, since “leaders have immunity.””

#russia #ukraine #russia ukraine war #war #putin #geopolitics #america #europe #nato #armenia #azerbaijan #nagorno karabakh #icc #international criminal court

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