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savnofilter · 3 years

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Kinktober Day 9

Natsuo ➷ Midoriya ➷ Kirishima ➷ Fatgum ➷ Shinso ➷ Tamaki ➷ Todoroki ➷ Bakugo ➷ Shindo ➷ Giran ➷ Dabi ➷ Shigaraki ➷ All For One

☠️ warning(s): ⚠️ everything between both parties is consensual. ⚠️ 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕒, con/dubcon.

☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.

☠️ words: 260+ [about one minute each].

☠️ read more: kinktober(uary)

☠️ summary: instead of the original fic idea, i swapped it out with somnophilia hcs,,, enjoy.

Natsuo (x)

giving:

wellllll since i dont know much about him i dont feel like he’s really into it. Up to your choices tbh.

feel like once on a blue moon he’ll wake up and decide he wants his dick in you like a thermometer or just finger you until you wake up.

isnt really something you guys discussed, he kinda just admired how beautiful you are.

if hes ever feeling freaky-deaky mayhaps he’ll eat you out,,,

he fucking loves it when you reciprocate his touches, it urges him to continue and tease you more.

honestly just being able to pleasure you himself is what gets him rock hard, he doesnt even want anything in return he just wants to hear your sighs and moans.

natsuo's first just cause ion feel like it's something he does every day, more like once in a while just to tease you~

receiving:

to dooont talk about receiving --, hes a sucker for waking up with his pp in your mouth. 🤭

he likes to flex it when it's in, pushing you just a little lower just to hear you gag a bit.

"Sorry babe, couldn't help myself~"

…. well thats aight with me-

isnt big on full-on making you choke on him but if you wake him with the glawk glawk 3000 he’ll have a brighter day.

hes a Todoroki so just know he has the gene being a sadistic teaser.

if you wake him up with cock warming he will literally marry you while he destroys your guts.

he likes somnophilia 11/10.

Midoriya (x, x)

giving:

Midoriya is mostly timid, already having the consent talk between you two but hes still nervous.

oftentimes he just grinds up against you and keeps you close, but sometimes his hands do wander in other places.

when he first starts to experiment, he likes to soft kiss your neck and rubs his hips against you softly.

he might squeeze your breasts here and there to tease you, hands snaking under your shirt to feel your warm skin against his calloused and strong hands.

like headcanon before, Midoriya doesnt like to do penetration until he knows he has your full-on consent.

hes sweet but dont expect him to go full on soft with you lol.

forbiddddddd Midoriya chooses oral because this boi will go for how long it takes his tongue to get tired.

and thats not very easy.

he loves to admire your body so most often he does it out of the,,, love he has. 🥴

and hes a closet perv too.

receiving:

if you give it to him -- instant NUT. no cap.

he'll be like "H-Honey" and then tense up and just nut.

but ofc being the good s/o you are, you still continue because youre a good s/o like that.

bonus points if you treat him like hes a dirty perv for liking it, also gets on his subside if you really wanna degrade him too.

some times when hes awake enough he can have the dom energy but most times her cant help but be a pillow prince for you~~

and he doesnt mind either. he enjoys it. there's something down inside him that just helps him sleep at night that you use him for your pleasure and his.

there's just a whole lot to unwrap here. ;)

Kirishima (x)

giving:

hm.

to place Kirishima in third being hes the type to stay up like an hour after youve fallen asleep and stick his cock in you so he can feel you grind up against every few times throughout the night.

gives you a few encouraging thrusts before he does fall asleep just to give your body a bit of a head start.

wraps his arms around your waist to ensure you cant escape him. 😳

of course since he is like this, somnophilia has been discussed between you two so he's not on full on creep mode.

sometimes he'll wake you up by just pounding into you at full send.

likes to tease sensitive parts of your body just to get you to wake up,,, bites marks littered on your skin as well.

hes careless and the only thing he is really focused on is? hes not sure. he just know he fucking loves doing it with you too.

best part is when he records and then faps to the footage later-

but what can he do, he likes to cherish every moment you two share ~

receiving:

oh please wake him up like that.

he has no qualms if its him in your mouth or you taking him inside you he just wants it.

when you wake up him like that he honestly feels like maybe there is someone up there.

is such a moaner.

he likes it when youre a little rough too, cant help but be a masochist when he wakes up smh.

if you ride him please let him choke on your fingers -- better yet have your ass face his direction so he can do whatever he wants with your lower parts as well.

even when you are giving he still wants to reciprocate as well, he loves to have your pleasured whenever you two get busy.

most times when you engage in somnophilia it has to be days when he has off. why? he might just go all day.

pleasure him, but do it wisely. 🤧

Fat gum (x)

giving:

taishiro is the type of guy to like put his dick in your mouth lol.

not even like get you slicked up or anything, just cock in mouth.

probably gets you semi undressed before he gropes you like a creep, getting his cock hard before opening your sleeping mouth and slipping his dick into your mouth.

makes you choke on his cock to wake you up, enjoying it when you dont have time to hide your gag reflex and watch as you try and get use to his tip pressing at the back of your throat.

half of the time, taishiro doesnt even wake you up. he plays with you just to get you wet and stinky.

sometimes he diddles himself and cums on you just to have you confused when you wake up.

honestly beats Midoriya at being a closet pervert, but does he really try to hide it?

receiving:

hmmmmmm

he doesnt really care to receive it.

sure it's a very nice surprise to wake up to but he prefers it when hes the one playing with you.

likes it better if youre taking him with one of your lower holes just because he already has enough experience with your mouth wrapped around his cock.

if riding him manages to wake him up, teasing him wont go on for any longer. he has no choice but to take over and just ran your brains out.

when hes done flipping the script and you both are satisfied you more out of shape than him, he'll be like,

"Welp, crepe for breakfast?"

Shinso (x)

giving:

oral central

i cant think of shinso having his ding-ding be the first thing to tease you when you wake up with fingers and oral. no and's, no but's.

he doesnt like to rush you up on waking up, more with the smooth process and it isnt really doing it for a reaction.

he just wants to toy with you.

honestly, like fat gum he does it so youre usually in a confused state when you wake up. horny but not knowing why and knowing full-well you didnt have a wet dream either.

its not until a few more times of him doing it is when you realize it's his doing and that in itself has you in a blushing mess.

not expecting that from him at all but not complaining. 😳

sometimes you dress just a little provocatively just to inspire him~

receiving:

if you dont wake him up with his cock in your mouth hes gonna have a bad day. >:(

jk, he respecs wamen.

deadass do it once and he might just marry you.

if youre doing a little under par from what you usually do, he'll just have to nudge yah a lil, push you on, use his quirk.

"Fuck -- just like that kitten~"

WELL DAMN IF YOU DIDNT WANT TO SUCK THE SOUL OUT OF HIM ALREADY-

he doesnt really care if you wake him up like that, much appreciated but he doesnt really care.

i mean if you do, just get ready for an early morning of face fucking… just saying.

Tamaki (x)

giving:

yall aint ready for this one.

some people may say, 'aw tamaki would wake up s/o and just cuddle her to death uwu<3", while yes he will, dont underestimate him.

to think of him in somnophilia is where we break the closet pervert ends.

hes more of like, i really like my dick and i really like you so i’ll just go on and fuck you awake.

theres on lead up or anything, he’ll full on give you brain or just fuck you as if you are awake, apologising profusely once you do wake up.

“I-I’m s-sorry to wake you like this… I couldn’t help myself…”

he’ll never fully use quirk on you while you sleep though. thats a big nope from him.

when he sexs you up he wants it to be fully him… and only him.

(i mean its his quirk from him -- but you get the point!)

CEO of going till ya numb.

his favorite his sticking his dick into you and rutting into you like a dog in a rut.

definitely is a groper. cannot and will not convince me otherwise.

he just really loves it when you moan out for him and make cute noises~ its all he needs to start off for a good day.

receiving:

well, it definitely is a pleasant surprise.

doesnt affect him like he does when he wakes you up but he appreciates your efforts.

most times when hes conscience enough he’ll just take over as if you werent trying to surprise him before.

honestly if youre looking for an early pounding thats the best time and way to get him into action.

since he sees it as teasing he cant help but have to pay you back.

he’ll be straight up clapping dem cheeks and he’ll just be like “you feel so fucking good” with the nicest sounding moan anyone can mumble into your ear.

yeah…. I encourage doing it to him.

gets him nice and possessive giving you both a good time while he can live out his lil dom fantasies for the day.

//win win.

Todoroki (x, x)

receiving:

hes like a blushing mess.

if you couldnt see him as a sub before, well get ready for this.

catch him off guard and guarantee youll get a completely different Shouto.

he turns into a full on pillow prince, with no shame. As long as you focus on getting him off he’ll let you do what he wants.

if you especially focus on his soft spots that dont have to do with his nipples or the third leg between his legs that when youll get him puddy under your hands.

“Y-Y/N..~”

well shit, say your name like that and he might make you revert submissive behaviour too.

you treat him like a perfect lil’ prince whenever he does, wanting to pamper him anyways.

on a rare chance could you spark him into flipping the tables but thats more on a random occurrence more than anything.

note to self: sub Sho? surprise him.. ✍️

Bakugo (x, x)

giving:

this one is kindaaaa tricky.

now, Katsuki wont do it often. but when he does it, he does it with uhh,,,, passion. if you would like to call it that.

he mimics all the spots you loved to be touched when youre awake just to see how long it takes for your body to wake up and realize that hes playing with you.

calculated in his actions, obviously. hes not some idiot who rushes, everything he does is precise whether or not you know it.

because of this, being able to please you is easy so his clear motive? not very sure….

maybe it's to see you squirm and wake up? mayhaps to see what pure pleasure looks like written over your face. who knows, all you knew is that he always had a smug look on his face when he was able to make you cum by the end of it.

thats if…. he let you that is.

receiving:

sort of like Todoroki, you may just get him to be the whole bottom in the term, "power bottom".

tries to hold in moans and groans but usually fails which makes him sooooo frustrated.

if he gets too flustered he'll make you stop and give whatever you have him by tenfold.

brace yourself for a long and bumpy ride, you may have to do it on days he isnt going to work that day because he'll sure rock you out of this world.

best if done on holidays as well, itll leave you walking a lil awkward for a few days.

and of course, that isnt okay for being on the job is it?

Shindo (x)

giving:

ddjhvbjhvb

hes this high on the list for a reason.

ongggggggg he’ll tease the ever living shit out of you until he gets bored or decides youve earned it.

damn snarky wont even prep your body or anything, just straight out the cut uses his quirk just to get your senses all riled up.

does everything on the scale of full on senses to just barely touching you.

his teasing always wakes you up into a confused state that is wanting to more, shamelessly begging for him to continue.

he carries great pride in taking responsibility in getting you like this. but dont be mistakened! he will not go easier on you just because you woke up.

you had only just felt the pre-course to the real action~

buckle up, kitten.

receiving:

nope. if youre going to take advantage of him, he wants to fully aware.

… for sadistic reasons more than consensual.

Giran (x)

giving:

this old fucking man.

likes to sneak in and just feel you up good.

of course he doesnt want through his back out so yknow- im just kidding.

giran will go to town if he has to.

but most times, the old fart just loves to, "make love" to his darling.

calls you sweet petnames in your ear as you sleep, just so you can dream about you too.

he knows how to tease and play with you. he can finish the job without even so much as stirring you awake.

hes studied you long enough and has played with you enough to make you finish as well.

it's magic honestly, and his best part is leaving you with the mess between your legs and nothing but confusion written all over your face.

how could he know that's your reaction although he leaves before you can wake up?

simple. hes always has his ways~

receiving:

the few rare times he let's you into his humble abode is when you decide to treat him.

really adament of sucking him off to wake him up just to see his early morning smile.

him rewarding you with giving you the same treatment or dirty praise is all you need before you leave and act as if you werent sleeping around with a villain recruiter and his #1 sugar baby for that matter.

when you surprise him in his study is the real kicker.

youve been under his desk many times to be familiar with the spot and assume the position.

you usually bring up breakfast or dinner (whichever time you arrive) and wake him up in the good way that motivates him to continue on with his stressful job.

surely, he can never thank you enough. if it wasnt for your efforts, he wouldnt know how to deal with himself~

Dabi (x, x)

giving:

✨ rise n shine, dabi's fat cock is here to wake you up. ✨

this asshole -- this asshole.

has no shame at all. he knows full well what hes doing.

likes to feel you up and just feel at you sometimes. hes so touch starved that he cant even help it.

he ranges from teasing you till you wake up to full-on fucking your brains out.

of course he enjoys it when youre confused but wanting more, your body more than ready to receive his hands.

at some point, you just like to tease him for it too. usually he catches onto your game and plays accordingly.

he cant help but feel blessed that someone he loves so very much could enjoy the same interests he does as well.

just let him know you like it when he feels you up and he'll give it to you anytime you ask~

receiving:

would not recommend unless you want early-morning-face fucking.

like you wouldnt catch someone wake up from something like that faster than Dabi.

you may wonder why, it's just his touch starved nature. im telling you, it responds to anything.

no matter what position, how you do it you will get a positive reaction from him.

tell me you cant imagine him moaning, "that's it, doll~ swallow my cock like the slut you are~"

IN A SLEEPY RASPY VOICE??? HELLO 🤧

this man is just a walking breathing example of what the word simp feels like.

youre supposed to turn away because hes not the type of guy to fall in love with but most times like this is when you cant help it..

Shigaraki (x, x)

giving:

master diddler, yes he is.

hes the type to not even stick his cock in, just like hump at you like a needy animal and just mark up your neck as if he hasnt had sex in years.

is the type to use other parts of your body to get off just to avoid pleasuring you as he gets off.

youll wake up to his cum in various spots. between your legs, on your chest and even your armpits. if it has a place where his cock can fit its going there.

he doesnt give a shit if you fuss about it later, “why didn’t you cum inside” headass.

youll have to earn him using you like cocksleeve the proper way.

youre either a heavy sleeper or light because you can wake up as soon as he starts or wake up after hes done.

Either way, as long as he can see the pureness on your expression is all he needs to help his perverse needs.

Shigaraki isnt the person to use you during your sleep without having at least talked it with you.

yeah hes a creep but hes not that weird.

likes to whisper degrading stuff into your ear when you sleep just so you can dream about what hes doing to you, his hands not stopping a moment as he gets off to feeling you up.

just dont expect anything less then degenerate from him

receiving:

you have to be a special type of breed to even think about touching him without him being in control.

the thought of you possibly being able to one-up him is a no-no.

he wont allow it.

if he even senses you thinking about it he’ll stir awake and glare at you as if there is no tomorrow.

but say you do manage to catch him off guard, this may be the only times you can really edge a moan out of him of.

so use your time wisely.

All for one (x)

giving:

ive said it once, i'll say it again.

you just have no rights bro. im sorry.

he wakes him sometimes and just goes, "this bitch deserves a rude awakening today".

like okay mr fuckface.

is the one that is always on x games mode, no softness for him at all.

probably has you wear those kitten/mitten collar things like*cough cough* kakegurui *cough cough* even when youre carrying out errands for him.

the point is honestly to keep you in place, and you cant help but like it anyways.

some may dislike being viewed as a pet or anything less but you love it hence why you stay.

plus, if you could runaway, would you be able to?

nevermind that, you didnt want someone else to replace you so youll stay his obedient bitch for now.. 😌

receiving:

you wouldnt. you just wouldnt.

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heliads · 3 years

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Over the Edge

Based on this request: “One shot of reader getting shot and hides from everybody including Wanda. She ignores it and continues to fight sword agents. At the end reader faint due to the injuries she has and Wanda take him and goes to the cabin where she cries.”

masterlist

You feel as if you’re standing on a precipice. One push, one shove, and you’ll be falling down, beyond the reach of anyone save a dark-winged angel.

You’ve always known that there will come a moment in time when your life will end. An injury, a sickness. A battle, maybe. You could sense that something would stop you from living life until the last- old age may be a guarantee to some, but to you, it was a privilege that you would never attain. No, you would die a moment too soon, a time before all others.

You had a certain affinity for seeing into the future. Your gift was frustratingly vague, always coming when you least wanted or expected it and never showing the final result. Your death was one of the first things you had ever seen. It was fitting, in a way: your birth of power was used to show how you would die. You would be alone, maybe. Whatever it was, it would be before you got the chance to grow old.

Ever since you’d gotten that first vision, witnessed the horrible sensation of something utterly wrong happening to snuff out your last breath, it was as if you’d been haunted by the promise of what would happen. You always checked behind you for someone watching your back, for an attacker or accident that could fulfill your vision. For a while, you were safe in the knowledge that your death wouldn’t be coming for a while as you had visions involving a future you, but you have no idea when those would run out, spelling the end for you.

The Avengers had come for you after the rumors spread. They always seemed to show up for cases like yours, cropping up like flies before the bodies can rot on a battlefield. This time, you’d predicted something too well: an attack on S.H.I.E.L.D. in the form of a HYDRA mole. You had seen the entire organization crumble as friend turned on friend, and no one had believed you.

Your family and friends had laughed. HYDRA? Shield? Girl, you’re stuck in fairy tales and ghost stories. Then it happened, the Triskelion falling flame to fiery explosions. Suddenly, your freak hallucinations weren’t quite so funny after all.

Representatives of the Avengers had shown up after that. No one knows about S.H.I.E.L.D. until after they come, that’s the way it always is. Yet you had known, and you would have to explain it all. You were sure that they would kill you for knowing, and that’s how your abrupt death would begin. However, you weren’t to be granted that reprieve of life just yet- when they offered a gun, it wasn’t a barrel pointed at you but a handle offered to you. A job, not a death sentence.

You took it. Of course you did. There is no way to politely turn down an organization with that much power, with that many members willing and able to dole out death like a greeting card. You had agreed, taking the job, and flowing along with the tide wherever it took you. No matter where you went, though, no matter how many prophecies you made, you always kept returning to the precipice. Somewhere, somehow, you would die. Did anything before that really matter?

The knowledge haunts you. It is hard to avoid. You might have saved yourself from certain death by taking up the Avengers’ offer, but by starting down that line of work, you might have damned yourself even more. Death threats and violent confrontations were a cup of coffee in the mornings with the Avengers, and by involving yourself with them, you increased the amount of times you could die. Sometimes, you wished you had never spoken those words allowed, never made the prophecy so they wouldn’t have found you.

Then you met Wanda Maximoff, and that was when you realized it might have all been worthwhile after all. She was like you- fleeing death, doing her best to do it on her own times. She practically sang with the tune of the dying, of her city and parents and brother. People tended to avoid you, afraid that you would see their end and they’d have to live with it just like you. Wanda, on the other hand, was not afraid. She’d seen enough death to know that you were no harbinger, just a Cassandra born to speak aloud. Why fear the speaker if you’ve seen enough of the stories?

The two of you stayed together. She woke up screaming on nights when the air was cold and the sights reminded her of all the damage she’d lived through. You didn’t want to speak for days at a time, when you’d had another vision and were horrified by what would come to be. No matter what happened to either of you, you’d always be by each other’s side.

It was good for a time. Maybe too good. Maybe you should have known then, that nothing in this world ever stays good for too long. You’d seen enough stories fracture to never place any trust in hope. Yet when you had that vision, seen the Infinity Stones brought together under Thanos’ watch, it had still torn you utterly apart.

You had told the Avengers, been the first call to muster the forces and prepare for war. It didn’t do much in the end. They still fought, bled, and died. Thanos snapped his fingers, and you were one of the first ones to go. Wanda had reached out to you just before you went. She was just a hair too far away. Her outstretched hand was too slow to reach you before you turned to ash and dust. In your last moments, you weren’t afraid at all. You had known it all along, hadn’t you? One last step off the precipice. You had seen it coming for years.

You had expected that to be it, that Thanos’ snap and your resulting death fulfilled your very first prophecy. However, your eyes still opened on the battlefield. From what they told you, it had been five years. You had spent a very long time in the dark, forced to behold hundreds and thousands of prophecies. Your mind felt like it could scream and tear itself apart from all that you had witnessed, yet you kept fighting as they asked. A wind up soldier, dealing out destruction wherever they pointed your weapons.

You knew that the fight wouldn’t end, even after Tony Stark sacrificed his life to save you all. The precipice would still loom. You had found Wanda in the fight, and she had finally wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close. Later, she would tell you that not being able to reach you in time had been one of her greatest regrets. It was one of the first times you had truly been separated in many years. She had never felt more alone as she died, even though it would bring you closer to the same home in the dark.

You had found her after the battle, after the funeral. You had told her in a trembling voice of all that you had seen, the countless prophecies and visions you had witnessed. If the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. knew about them, they would send you down to record everything until your mind ran dark with blood and you went mad. Some of the visions weren’t yours to tell, you knew that, but spies have rarely cared for the price of secrets. By now they would already know that you had seen too much, and already be on the move. You had seen people following you for the past couple of days. It had already begun.

You didn’t know what you thought Wanda would say. You weren’t the mind reader, and you had only seen bare glimpses of what she would do in the future: a rushing wall of red, loud sobs, a house in the mountains. Twin boys. You had no idea what any of it would mean, just that she would continue to live. That alone was enough for you.

Wanda had stayed silent for a minute. You were used to her silence, welcomed it as much as a hearty conversation. At last, she rose, taking your hand to guide you back to the road. We will have a home, she had said, and they shall not hurt us here. When you arrived at Westview, New Jersey, you at last understood. You had seen this very sign when you were dead, and you had seen the scarlet barrier before even as Wanda casts it now. The very scope of her powers is astonishing, but everything was proceeding as it had been foretold. There is nothing you can do to stop the tide of time from flowing, nothing to stop the precipice from drawing ever closer.

When you look around you again, you’re still in Westview. Technically, your feet haven’t moved an inch. But the town itself is different- walls are brighter, people are happier. If you look closely, you can tell that something is wrong. This isn’t the way people are supposed to move, like they’re being jerked around on strings. This isn’t the way time progresses, or the way everyone seems to look at you like they’re screaming for help. This is wrong, horribly so, but it’s so tempting to be safe for once that you can glance away and pretend not to see.

It’s just so good here. So nice. Wanda smiles at you, and you smile back. They cannot hurt you here, cannot reach you. There are no labs or interrogations or people begging for details on your visions. For once, you’re not living in the future, but the present. You haven’t made a prophecy since you came, and your head is blessedly yours. Wanda understands what it is like to be a prisoner of your own powers, and she’s given you a chance to live.

You can tell which people are being manipulated by Wanda’s magic, which people are given scripts and lines to rehearse. You are not among their numbers; Wanda wants you to be you, and that means that you two can have your perfect future. It’s not a prison, it’s a refuge, and that means that you won’t need protection from her.

For the first time, you have the chance to grow old. You have always loved Wanda, and it is so easy here. There are no wars, no guards, no soldiers. You pick wildflowers in the park and present them to her with a flourish, she makes the entire town look like your favorite sitcom so you can practically be living in your favorite reality. You are both fighters who have bled for too long, but for once, you are whole. It’s an opportunity you wouldn’t give up for the world.

When the sky begins to fall, you pretend you don’t see it. You’re silently begging with the future, pleading it not to come. It has never listened to you before, but you can’t help but hope it will stay its hand this once. You see Agnes become Agatha, see the twisting wires of purple magic infiltrate the red. You see S.W.O.R.D. arriving outside the town, and you turn away. Please, you ask, just this once. Let me live this once.

Your pleas are ignored. They send people through the barrier, then armored trucks and weapons. Suddenly, your picture perfect home is shot through with rot, your happy future crumbling away to ash. You try to find Wanda, but she is gone, locked away with Agatha. Everything comes true. The cycle will always turn. You cannot find your love, and you cannot live as you hope.

When it breaks down fully, you know what must happen. So does Wanda. She finds you before she takes down the barrier, holding you in her arms. You can feel her on your hands, breath hot against your cheek. You’ll never stop being on the run from the precipice, from the watchers who want your visions. At least you had this with her. It was worth it, all of it.

The fight begins as they always do. Guns rattle, people cry out in terror. You have seen this scene before in countless different ways and places. However, you’ve taken part in enough battles to know how to continue. Knock out a soldier, take his gun. Keep fighting. Wanda is by your side, lovers staying together once more.

You hear the gunshot from across the town square. Distantly, a voice in the back of your head cries out in relief. This is it, what you’ve seen all along. The bullet hits you a moment later, a piercing pain that seems to shake your very bones. Your hand presses to your stomach, and when you pull it back only a second afterwards, scarlet is already starting to dye your shirt red. You look up, searching for Wanda. She doesn’t know yet. No one does.

Clarity is falling upon you. This is it, at last. The precipice. You stand up, forcing yourself to keep moving. You have always been born to die. At least let your last moments be worth something. S.W.O.R.D. agents fall, but it’s not enough. Will it ever be enough? You don’t have a choice. Wanda is turning to you now, eyes widening as she at last sees the red smear on your side.

When your head hits the pavement, you realize that it’s finally over. The gun falls from your head, clatters to the pavement. Wanda lunges for you, but she arrives too late again. Why is it that she is always one step too far? You don’t have any more visions of yourself, just of her. You’ve always been looking at her. When you die, you have a smile on your face.

Death is not peaceful. It never is for you. Your eyes are forced open by invisible hands, and you watch once more as the future is laid bare for you. I’m dead, you want to shout, stop making me see any more. But the prophecies keep coming. You are the one who sees them, and so you must see the world through. That is how it works.

Wanda, however, is not willing to give you up so easily. You’re not sure what price she paid to put breath back into your lungs and keep your heart beating, but when you wake, you’re in a cabin in the woods. You’ve seen it before, you realize, when you died the first time. This means you’re still alive, and you’ve eluded the precipice once more.

Wanda is leaning over you, relief written in every line of her face. When she sees you look at her again, she starts to sob in earnest. “Don’t ever do that to me again. I can’t take your death.” It is a shame, then, when you know how it ends. For now, though, you manage to crack a smile. “I don’t much enjoy it either.”

Death still weighs upon you, heavy as an anvil. There will come a day when even Wanda’s magic won’t be enough to save you, when love falls through the gaps and you will finally be laid to rest. The precipice still looms, as it always will. But for now, you sit up and take Wanda’s hand. At least when you face that fight, you will have your lover by your side. You can look far enough into the future for that. For now, you can keep on fighting, even when the precipice seems inevitable. You’ve accepted your death, but you would live for her.

marvel tag list: @mycosmicparadise

wanda maximoff tag list: @mionemymind, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff oneshot #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagines #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch oneshot #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel oneshot #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu oneshot #wandavision #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers oneshot

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 12 FINALE

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: How lovely it has been, to go on this journey with you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to every person who has liked, reblogged, or left a kind comment on this story. Combined, you all have genuinely changed my life. I'm writing more than ever, more consistently, and I'm having a blast. So if you like this story, and wish it wasn't ending, well... maybe don't worry too much. There will be a sequel of sorts, same timeline but new reader, instead focusing on Cassandra. Also oops this is hella long. And mostly dialogue. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB, Pt 11: Cadence

Chapter 12: Cadence (Reprise)

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

Truth be told, she had never expected much of anything to come from this. ‘Twas not that she thought her daughter to be talentless, or that she denied the capabilities of the servant-turned-teacher, rather that she knew just how difficult it was to keep Daniela’s attention for any measure of time. Even as the weeks went by with undeniable progress, there was a part of her awaiting the collapse of it all. How long would this instructor last? How long before they were drained of blood, either for some perceived insult, or merely out of boredom? Surely, in the end, Alcina would not need to lift a single finger.

And yet here she was, at the end of a concert, pride roaring within her chest. What had she missed? What clues had eluded her, what had changed within her child’s nature? She knew that there were hints of deeper affections, fragments of a would-be love, but she had thought them miniscule. Thought that those feelings were doomed to crash and burn, unable to live up to the expectations set by decades of romance novels. Well, maybe they had failed. Maybe, somehow, Alcina had missed something else entirely.

The thought might have sent a shiver down her spine, if she weren’t so readily distracted by praising her youngest child… or by the looming shadow of a life-changing revelation.

“Mother… we need to talk. I… I have a confession to make,” Daniela explains, hesitantly slow, but with a conviction she rarely ever showed. Taken aback by the unexpected announcement, Alcina pauses, silently awaiting some form of elaboration. Instead, Daniela takes her hand, pulling her towards a set of chairs. They sit gingerly, each feeling the weight of terrifying possibilities upon their shoulders. When she at last continues speaking, she does so without a trace of showmanship or false bravado, trading it in for heartfelt sincerity. “I love them. All of this- these lessons, this concert- has been for them. For my sweet, innocent little songbird.” So here it was, the birthplace of her fears, brought forth from her mind into reality.

“I was afraid you would say that,” Alcina muses, leaning back into the chair with a deep sigh. Something itches in the back of her throat, and she yearns for her pipe, or even just a normal cigarette to distract herself. Without one, she is left to metaphorically chew on her thoughts. Realistically, there has to be some way to deal with this, some way that she can convince her daughter of the sheer foolishness of this mess. “Daniela… how can I put this in a way you will understand, hmm?… The two of you have only known each other for three months. There is no chance that you truly love them, or them you. How close can you possibly have become?”

“When have I cared about anything for three whole months? I dedicated myself to-” Daniela is cut off by the sound of the door opening, revealing the rest of her little family. It was guaranteed that they would have heard the conversation from outside, seeing as they were all inhuman, though they perhaps intended to intervene. A single hard glance from both of the room’s occupants convinces them to change their minds. “Wait, Ava, can you get us some tea, please? Something tells me I’ll need a soothing drink soon.” Hesitating in the doorway, the butler in question eyes the both of them, naturally tempted to stay and fill the role of a therapist.

“I do believe my daughter gave you an order, Ava. Don’t tell me you have forgotten the stipulations of your agreement with Mother Miranda?” Alcina interjects. With that said, the butler finally moves, exiting with an apologetic bow. An awkward silence hangs in the air once xe closes the door behind xerself, as Daniela takes a moment to recall her place.

“Three months is a long time for me. I put all of my energy towards both them and what they taught me, almost every single day. Even when their work kept them busy for too long, I still practiced, because I wanted to make them proud! For all my flirting, I’ve never bonded with anyone this way before now,” she says, hating the way her voice gets a little shaky. No matter how much confidence she has in her own writing, it is another thing entirely to be convincing out loud, with a truth she had been hiding for so long. All of her practice had been with lies. Now she had to contest with the hope that the strength of her emotions would be enough. “That song we played together, at the end, they wrote that for me. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“Oh, my dear… I want you to be happy more than anything. But we both know that your ‘history’ is stained with a number of incidents. You have always been absorbed within those books you read, and the fantasies that they provide for you. It is one thing to enjoy these stories on the side, but another matter entirely to let them corrupt your relations with others. As your mother, it is my duty to keep you safe, first and foremost,” Alcina proclaims, sitting up straighter, trying not to let her frown evolve into a full out scowl. Beneath the table, her hands ball into fists, clutched tight to stop herself from breaking the table. In the back of her mind she could think of little other than dismembering that damned piano instructor. Focusing on the discussion at hand, she takes a deep breath before finalizing her point. “You don’t know what a healthy relationship looks like, nor what it feels like. Your books are not ideal models for reference. One- or both- of you are going to end up suffering, and that is something I cannot allow, regardless of how ‘happy’ they make you before then.”

“You’re right,” Daniela whispers in defeat… or a feigned version of it. A split second later she’s making eye contact with her mother again, lips curling up into a smile. “I didn’t want to admit it, especially not to someone as attractive, talented, and charming as my Songbird, but I didn’t have to. They understood from the very start. We talked about it, about my expectations and my shitty behavior, and we worked on it. We’re still working on it. Maybe there will be bumps along the way, just like in every relationship, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be worth it in the end. What we have is still real, and they make me want to be a better woman. I know they’ve already helped me make the change.”

Once more the door opens, making the conversation pause, as Ava near-silently brings in the requested tea. If a pin had dropped at that moment, it would have felt as ear-shattering loud as a gong. Every second that passed felt like it dragged on, stretched out by the tension in the room, as though xe was moving in slow motion. The ‘clink’ of ceramic against the table makes xer flinch, almost spilling the tea. Neither Alcina nor Daniela react, or even acknowledge xer presence with anything more than their eyes, instead remaining impassive until xe makes a hasty retreat.

“Use what you’ve learned on someone else, then. Perhaps another one of Miranda’s experiments will someday provide a suitable match. But this ‘songbird’ of yours? They’re nothing. A human, a servant, they are not worth your time, nor are they worth mine. No matter what words or songs they weave, or illusions of grandeur they show you, you will end up getting bored of them. I’m afraid it is inevitable, my dear,” Alcina says, as soon as the door is closed once more. Then she attends to her tea, with the composure of someone convinced that they had just won an argument. On the other hand, Daniela was not so quick to give in, some of her worry melting into anger.

“How can you say that? How can you be sure? We were all human, once! Even Mother Miranda was human. And my Songbird is no mere human- they are wondrous, with flowery prose and lovely melodies, with soft-lipped smiles and reassuring eyes, and don’t even get me started on how beautiful they are!” She rambles, voice getting louder with every word. All at once it is too much for Alcina, who sets down her glass a little too hard, nostrils flaring as she stares at her daughter. When Daniela speaks again, she does so with love coating her tone. “We have weathered each other’s anxieties with no signs of stopping. I promised that we would weather yours.”

“I only want you to be happy. I need you to understand where I am coming from. This may be your longest lasting infatuation so far, but you have yet to honestly convince me that this is any different from your past ‘distractions’. I’m sorry, Daniela, I simply cannot allow this to continue,” Alcina sighs, hating to break her youngest daughter’s heart like this. There was only one thing that Daniela had yet to try. Maybe two, if she was willing to resort to begging.

“Can’t you trust me enough to give us a chance? Cassandra of all people seems to understand. Bela went as far as to lie to you, for our sake! She never does anything she thinks will hurt me, or you, or any of us. Please, mother, please. How can you ever know if what I have will last, if you cut it down now? Are you going to wait forever for some ‘perfect candidate’ for me? And what if that person loves someone else? Or what if the ‘perfect’ person doesn’t exist! What if we’re stuck waiting for them like Mother Miranda waits for another child, hmm? Would you have me spend another century alone, my only memory of genuine romance being poisoned by the thought that you broke us apart?” Daniela’s words ring throughout the chamber, echoing a damning accusation, somehow more bitter than the taste they left in her mouth.

All at once, Alcina’s heart takes a hit like no other. Her hands damn-near tremble, her lungs ache, her lips purse, and her brow furrows. So be it, she thinks.

“Bring this ‘Songbird’ here. Let me talk to them.”

—————————

Goddess, you are practically vibrating at the speed of sound, palms sweaty, nervousness trashing your mind. What the hell had Daniela done? Last thing you knew, she was determined to keep your secret, even if meant being unable to celebrate with you. But now you were getting tugged along by her, while tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She had said something about “mother” and “important”. That was all the context that you had been given. When you round one last corner, pulling up in front of Lady Dimitrescu’s study, you are shown a sight that somehow makes you feel worse: Bela, Cassandra, and Ava are all resting outside of the room. They appear exhausted, and motion for you to be quiet as you approach.

“They’ve been listening in on our conversation,” Daniela admits with a whisper. Then she’s pulling you into the study, ensuring that the door doesn’t open wide enough for the eavesdroppers to get spotted. Something told you that Alcina was already well aware of their presence. “Alright, mother, here is my Songbird. What did you want to ask us?”

“Daniela… leave us. My questions are for ‘Songbird’ alone,” Alcina replies, seemingly confirming the absolute worst of your fears. This was where you would die. By her hand, without your lover by your side, after what could have been the happiest night of your life. Of course. But Daniela is not willing to go without a fight. As soon as the words leave her mother’s mouth, she is moving between the two of you, just as she had when she first called you her teacher. Before she can speak, her mother stands up and stares her down. “Don’t make me ask again- there will not be a third time.” When she still hesitates, it is your turn to be brave.

“Hey, it’s okay, we’ll be okay,” you promise her, reaching out to take her hand. Instantly she’s returning to your side, hand cupping your cheek, eyes filled to the brim with sadness. “Firefly… ‘Tell me love, we shall last until the end of days’. I love you. Nothing is going to change that, not now, not ever. We’ll be okay.” Maybe not now, you think, but you’ll be okay eventually. Cassandra and Bela, and Ava I suppose, will make sure of it.

“Okay. We’ll last until the end of days. I love you too,” Daniela says, swallowing the lump in her throat. With one last kiss she pulls away, wishing that her departure didn’t feel so much like a betrayal. She pauses in the doorway, meeting your gaze, unable to bring herself to move until you give her an accepting nod. The door swings into place with a click, sealing the room and your fate.

“So,” Alcina begins, returning to her seat as she does. For now you stay standing, unsure of just about every part of this situation, especially your upcoming role in it. “You have been deceiving me. That alone is a crime worthy of severe punishment, and yet you stooped so low as to do far, far more. I had hoped you had, somehow, managed to teach my daughter a real lesson, that you had inspired a love of music in her, that you had made an honest difference in the way she learns. But all this time… it has been nothing more than a ruse.” The last word comes out dipped in venom, acidic enough to make you flinch. Thankfully, your beloved was not the only person who had a gift with words. More than that, this was a topic that you had spent numerous nights thinking about, making you as prepared as you could ever hope to be.

“You know, as much as I desire to claim that I am that interesting, or that Daniela felt so strongly from the very start, I can do no such thing. The truth is this: Music is what brought us together in the first place. It was the catalyst for our first real interaction, the first time she ever looked at me as more than just another servant or bloodbag. We bonded because of it, and so when we went to play together, to learn, Daniela honestly did connect to it,” you explain, despite the fire in Alcina’s expression. To your surprise, she does not interrupt you, and you take it as permission to keep going. Which was very good, considering that being nervous only made you ramble more. “Music is something we’ve shared for the entirety of our relationship. Even if it’s not something she would do much of on her own, I know that she’s grown to care for it more than she might be willing to admit. And, well…

“Even if you decide that what I’ve done is unforgivable, even if I’m destined to die within the hour, I know in my heart that everything the two of us worked on still matters. Because, like it or not, she is capable of growth, of change, of progress. And even if I die, someone else will come afterwards. Daniela will get to use music as a way to forge connections for the rest of her life, now that she knows it works, now that she knows how it works. And every goddamn time that she plays, or Bela plays, or you play, she’s going to remember me. She’ll remember every moment we spent together, every piece we ever played. I’ll live on in the melodies we made. In the song that you can’t quite place, that gets stuck on loop in your head. In the song the maids sing to themselves between shifts. In the quiet evening when the rain against the window feels so much like a familiar rhythm that your daughters can’t help but start humming along, without even thinking, muscle memories in sync.”

“Are you trying to convince me that there’s no point in killing you? That, regardless, you will be in my life until the end of time?” Alcina’s eyes are narrowed, but there isn’t even a hint of anger in her tone. Just curiosity.

“No, not really. Guess I’m just making peace with my fate the best way I know how- by remembering the echoes I’ll leave behind,” you answer, pausing to wipe a few tears from your eyes. All you can think about is how much Daniela will miss you. How much pain you think she’ll go through. Because at this point, who are you trying to fool with your hope? Yourself, or the people listening?

“Hmm. I think I understand. Now, tell me… what was that you said to my daughter a minute ago, before she left the room? It sounded familiar, though I cannot place it,” Alcina questions, idly toying with her glass of tea. You’re not entirely sure why it matters to her, but you have no qualms delaying the inevitable by answering. Besides, it was a chance to talk about how much you loved Daniela (and you’d never skip such an opportunity).

“It’s a line from a poem she wrote for me. “Tell me love, we shall last until the end of days”. A promise. The song Daniela and I played together… I wrote it in response. My way of doing what she asked of me, I guess. Like I said, she’ll always have the music we shared,” you answer, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Damn this… I can hardly believe I am asking this, yet I feel I have no choice: Tell me, do you love my daughter? Do you honestly, with your entire being, desire a future with her? Or was this a game of survival you couldn’t afford to lose, that turned out to be more ‘fun’ than you had anticipated? Show me your heart, as it is, bare as it would be if I tore it from your chest, this very moment.” There’s no room for argument in her voice, using the very same tone she reserved for maidens who got a tad too close to refusing her.

“Alright. It was a game. At first. Daniela wanted a distraction, something to entertain her. I didn’t want to die, like I had heard so many of her ‘playmates’ did. I can’t tell you when things changed, at least not for her,” you confess, with a shaky breath. Did that make you a monster? One worthy of death? If so, you wondered if it actually made you more fit to date Daniela. “For me… I just remember her smiling wide at me, hand on my cheek, having just cracked some lame joke. Next thing I knew, well, I knew. We had a spark of something, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to make her happy, you know? All the sudden there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I just wanted to see that smile again, everyday for the rest of my life.

“To answer your question: Yes. Goddess, yes. A thousand times yes. A ‘yes’ for every smile she’s ever shown me, for every butterfly in my stomach, for every time she’s held my hand, for every breath she’s stolen from my lungs, and for every single time my heart has skipped a beat in her name. I love her. I know we haven’t been together long, but the things I feel are undeniable. I will give her every part of myself, for as long as she wants me, for as long as I am blessed to live,” you pour your heart out, weaving your heartbeat into every turn of phrase, spilling your lifeblood onto the very conversation.

“And what will you do if she does change her mind? If she grows bored of you, as she has done with a dozen others?” Alcina counters without hesitation.

“I will weep. I will fall to my knees, and mourn this beautiful thing. But I will cherish every memory she leaves to me. Every moment where I am hers is a moment worth living, worth remembering. It will be better to have loved her with all my heart for a little slice of her immortality, than to love another, lesser so, for all of my life.” With that, Alcina sets her empty glass of tea onto the table, eying you with an unreadable expression. Something seems to stir in her chest, and at last the mask crumbles. She smiles.

“I see. Daniela, you may come back in now. Do not bother pretending that you have not been eavesdropping.” Not even a full second passes before the door opens, revealing a shaking Daniela, both of her sisters quite visible behind her (though they quickly move out of frame, leaving behind Ava, who gives a cheesy thumbs up as the door closes in xer face). She rushes to your side, taking your hand, looking stunned that you were still alive. But what shocks her more is what her mother says… “Of all the women I have ever known, family or otherwise, you are, perhaps, the most determined. Normally only in… ‘spurts’. Yet here you are, defying what I have come to expect of you. It almost feels as if I have been fooling myself this whole time, falsely believing that there is more than one possible outcome. So, ‘Songbird’, I say this: Three months ago, I agreed to give you a chance to prove yourself worthy of my daughter, for the sake of her happiness. Now, I suppose it is only fair that I do so once more.”

“Wait. Are you saying-” Daniela is once again cut off by her mother, who seems eager to avoid a trademark rant.

“Yes, yes I am. For the time being, the two of you have my blessing. I cannot say that I am entirely convinced of your chances at success, but, having seen the strength of your affections for one another, I sincerely hope that you will prove me wrong. Now come here, Daniela. I never got to finish telling you what I thought of your concert…”

—————————

In the glowing comfort of your girlfriend’s room, with the fireplace keeping things warm and cozy, you lay with your head against Daniela’s chest. One of her hands absentmindedly plays with your hair, and you release a sigh of bliss. Ava had assured you that xe would let Daphne know the good news, as xe thought that having one of the castle ladies visiting the servants’ quarters might cause a stir (and Daniela was far from willing to let go of you so soon). Now the two of you were just enjoying time holding each other close. Regardless of Alcina’s concerns, you knew that everything would be looking up from here. Assuming that Daniela didn’t have any more surprise confessions to involve you with.

“That was one hell of a surprise, Firefly. But I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore. I love you, and I don’t know how long I could have survived without being open with it,” you say, a light teasing to your voice. Beneath you, Daniela chuckles, but holds you just a bit tighter. Then she places the softest of kisses to your forehead. “I’m always gonna love you, Firefly.”

“Until the end of days?” She asks, in a delighted whisper, grin practically audible.

“Until the end of days.”

—————————

Elsewhere in the castle, a caring mother takes another long, hungry drink from her glass of wine, staring intently into the fireplace. By her side is a silver-haired servant, who wordlessly watches her every move.

“There’s still a chance that this will all end horribly. Only time will tell, of course… but I can’t help worrying for her, she’s my daughter,” Alcina proclaims, gripping the glass hard enough for a web of cracks to form along its bell. But it does not fully shatter. No, it remains just steady enough to still be of use to her. For now. “Of course, you knew about this all along, didn’t you, Ava?... I know that you value how close you are with my children, and I know that they trust in you as much as I do… but if there are relationships or entanglements that I am unaware of, I expect you to tell me, or there will have to be consequences, regardless of your affiliation with Mother Miranda. Do you understand?”

Sighing, the mute servant pulls a notebook from xer pocket, opening it up to pen in a fresh script. There’s much tension in the air, and it only gets worse when Alcina catches a glimpse at what the note reads. As xe hands it to her, she scowls, and the wine glass fully breaks into countless shards. Immediately, Ava gets to work, picking up the largest of fragments with xer bare hands, refusing to complain about the resulting cuts. All the while Alcina stares into the fire, thoughts racing, wondering if maybe this time she could end her daughter’s problem before it was too late. Beginning to brainstorm ideas, she sets the notebook aside. Inside, in perfectly penned cursive, is a very, very dangerous piece of knowledge. The sort that could affect not only Castle Dimitrescu, but the entire village.

“In that case… there’s something you need to know about Cassandra- and Mother Miranda’s lovely little ‘pet’.”

#daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #it's really here lads #this is it #gonna go cry now #oh my god #i can hardly believe it

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Danger First

Chapter 6

@pocketramblr another :)

Shouta trudged back to the staff break room. His counseling session with Midoriya had lasted a little over an hour, so while there were still teachers in the building, many of them had left. With the exception of semi-retired heroes like Recovery Girl, everyone working here had two full time jobs. Hizashi, despite his carefree air, had even more than that in the form of his radio show. Hizashi had probably left with the students.

But Hizashi wasn't either of the ones he wanted to talk to. Not today.

He opened the door. Three, no, four teachers were there, but Snipe didn't count, seeing as he was completely passed out on one of the couches with his gas mask half off. He must have had an early shift patrol today, poor sucker.

Nemuri was there, too, with most of her hero outfit on. She was applying her hero-grade makeup (water proof, resistant to three common contact poisons, and guaranteed not to react badly with mace).

More importantly, Kan and Yagi were both there, poring over papers on the same desk, no less. Shouta walked up to the table and looked down at sheets and sheets full of incomprehensible numbers.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"We-"

'Don't tell him!" said Kan, urgently. "This is going to be my class's leg up on Aizawa this time around."

"Haha! Good one!" Yagi slapped Kan's back, and apparently even in his skeletal form he could pack a punch, because Kan had the air knocked out of him. Before he could recover, Yagi continued, "I'm making personalized nutrition plans for his class!"

"What?"

"One of my undergraduate degrees was in nutritional and health sciences, after all!"

Wow, there was a lot to unpack there, but Shouta was more than happy to leave it in its box. He had other fish to fry and topics to interrogate. Small talk requirement fulfilled, he moved on.

"How well do you know Midoriya?"

Yagi blinked and put down his pencil. "Moderately so? We met about this time last year and have been meeting regularly since then."

So, so much to unpack.

"Why?"

"Ah, he... impressed me, I suppose? He was involved in the bodysnatcher incident last year."

That was an understatement.

"He had a lot of heroic spirit!" continued Yagi. "But... not so much in the, ah, body category. I thought it would be a shame, a waste, really, if he wasn't able to pursue his dream, and a hero school prep course wasn't really in the cards for him, considering his quirk status and the timing... And I did have this degree..." He waved his hands vaguely at the table. "I just gave him a little help."

"What brought all this on, anyway?" asked Nemuri. "Midoriya is the little green haired kid, right? One of Chibiida's new friends?"

"If you keep calling him that, I won't be held responsible for when he snaps and attempts murder. But, yes, that's Midoriya."

"So...?"

"He told me I was the best teacher he'd ever had."

Nemuri started laughing.

"Oh," said Yagi. "I'm glad the two of you are getting along so well."

"I think he's pulling your leg, Shouta," said Nemuri, coming over to pat him on his shoulder. "Man, I didn't think a friend of Chibiida's would have it in him. Such youth!"

"I cannot even begin to tell you how much he wasn't."

Nemuri's laughter died off.

"Judging from some comments he made today," said Shouta, "not to mention the discrepancies between his record and his observed behavior in the classroom, I'd say he's been the target of severe quirkism in the past, particularly from his teachers. Did he ever mention anything like that to you?"

Yagi's face darkened and the mood in the room grew much more somber. "Not in so many words, no. However... some of his comments about his teachers disturbed me enough to bring it to the attention of the Musutafu Educational Services District, but as an unrelated stranger without concrete proof..."

("You can use the acronym, you know," muttered Vlad.)

"You're telling me they ignored the number one hero."

Yagi made a face. "I didn't go to them as All Might. Can you imagine the media frenzy if I did that? I didn't want to paint that kind of target on young Midoriya's back."

That was fair, actually. If largely-anonymous Shouta had enemies, All Might had ten times as many. Not to mention supposed fans.

"Other avenues of inquiry were also fruitless," said All Might, countenance darkening. "I asked some of my police colleagues, but they don't have full discretion over the direction of their investigations, and, again, if I were to use my weight to move them... It would get out, and people would wonder why I was so concerned with an apparently normal middle school."

"Did you try talking to Nezu about it?"

"No? Why?"

Shouta reminded himself that although Yagi was an alumnus, he was also very new as a teacher, and was as of yet unfamiliar with Nezu's more interesting traits.

"I'm going to," said Shouta, "and you're going to come with me." He turned to Kan. "Have you heard anything from Bakugo about quirk discrimination?"

"All I've heard from him are explosions, threats, and some kind of complex I don't have nearly enough psychiatric training to- They're from the same school," he realized.

"Yeah."

Kan pinched his brow. "So, the sweet shy kid you keep gushing about-" Both Shouta and Yagi attempted to reassure Kan they weren't gushing, "-and the demon brat are from the same school."

"That is what their records say," agreed Shouta. "Did you know, Yagi?"

"Oh, that they knew each other? Yes. Actually, I was rather under the impression they were childhood friends, as Midoriya ran out to help him during the bodysnatcher incident."

Shouta grunted. It was possible. He hadn't seen the two of them interact, at any rate.

"I'm going to Nezu with you," said Kan, standing up. "No matter what else this hell school did, they deserve to suffer for inflicting Bakugo Katsuki on me with those recommendations full of lies."

"Why don't you just expell him if he's that bad?"

"Because he's talented, hardworking, and hasn't actually broken any rules except for the swearing. He's just a pain I wasn't prepared to deal with and will probably contribute more to my hearing loss than Yamada by the end of the year."

"Wait, wait," said Yagi. "What exactly are you expecting Nezu to do in this situation?"

"Well," said Nemuri, who still hadn't left yet, "let's just say there's a reason hid name is 'god' in the staff group chat."

Terrible did not even begin to describe how Izuku felt when he woke up. His skin was static. His mouth was dry in a way that hurt. It felt like a siren was going off in his brain, and also like it was too quiet. He wanted to both run all the way to the school and hide in his closet.

This, of course, left him paralyzed in bed.

He hadn't felt remotely like this since the first time someone had left spider lilies on his desk at school. What was wrong with him?

No, that was the wrong question. All signs pointed to him having Danger Sense. He was in danger. And also immobile in bed.

With a great deal of effort, he turned to his bedside table and grabbed his phone. The clock in the corner read 4:42. Far too early to call anyone. And yet...

With shaky fingers, he navigated to Mr. Yagi's contact information and pressed dial. To Izuku's surprise, it only rang once.

"Young Midoriya? Is something wrong?"

The sound of his voice loosened the terrible knot under Izuku's breastbone. "I- May-maybe? I don't- I don't know, I think so."

There were sounds of movement on the other side of the line. "What happened?"

"I just- just woke up, and I- I think it's Danger Sense. It- Something bad is going to happen."

"I'm on my way. Is your mother with you?"

"N-no. She's at a- at a tech conference in Tokyo. She won't be back until- until tomorrow. Mr. Yagi, I don't- I don't think it's something here. I think it's later... at the school."

There was a pause. "My boy, are you quite sure?"

Izuku's laugh was just a little hysterical. "I mean, I'm- I'm pretty new to this, but..." he'd like to think his flight or fight reflex would have a more constructive response to am immediate threat. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have woken you up, I should have waited-"

"Nonsense! Forewarned is forearmed, and time is one of the most valuable resources a hero can have! I'm still picking you up, I'll just-" Mr. Yagi coughed, "-take the car instead."

"The car? You mean Hercules!?" The excitement was enough to free Izuku from his paralysis and propel him into a sitting position.

"Well, yes, but, my boy, how did you know? I don't think I've ever mentioned the name in my interviews..."

"But you did! In one of your American interviews. It was for a local station and you and Mr. Shield were on together."

"But those were in English."

"I know! When I found out about them, it really motivated me to work on my English! I think I could probably pass the Level Two fluency test..."

"Young Midoriya, have I ever told you how glad I am that you aren't a villain?"

"Hikage, did Danger Sense ever make you feel this bad?" asked Nana as Yoichi fussed in the background.

"Super Anxiety made me feel this bad all the time. Sometimes, it made me feel worse. I got used to it."

Nana let out a sigh of relief. It sucked to Ninth right now, but if it was normal for the quirk...

"That's good, then," said En. "Not for Ninth, obviously, but if that's just how the quirk works, he'll be able to figure it out. What did it usually mean, when you felt like this?"

"Generally, that someone was planning on killing me in the next few hours."

Dead(er than usual) silence.

"Ah," said En.

"You know," said Nana, "sometimes the kinds of lives we led slips my mind, but then the universe is always real happy to turn around and slap it back into me."

Yoichi started screeching.

"Do you feel any worse now that we're here?" asked Mr. Yagi after shutting Hercules down.

"Not really," said Izuku. He slumped down in his seat and looked away. "I'm sorry, I dragged you out of bed and this is probably just a stupid pointless meaningless panic attack..." He felt tears begin to prick at the edges of his eyes. He was so stupid. And selfish. All Might could be out helping people right now. Or taking care of himself (which, according to Recovery Girl's comments during their training sessions, he didn't do nearly enough of).

"Hey, hey, there's no need to cry, it's alright."

"Because you're here?" asked Izuku with a sniffle.

"Well, yes, but also, even if it was 'just' a panic attack, I'd still want to be here for you." He reached across the central console to pat Izuku on the shoulder. Then his face twisted into something rather sheepish. "But on the subject of panic attacks, something did occur to me on the way here."

Izuku looked back down at his knees. "What is it?"

"This is the anniversary of the day we met."

Izuku... had known that, actually. Waking up as he had had driven it from his mind, but the date was marked on his calendar. He'd even gotten All Might a gift, although he hadn't yet talked himself into being brave enough to give it to him, and with what happened today, it would most likely languish in his desk drawer for an indefinite period of time as the idea of giving it became progressively more awkward.

"My boy? I can't quite make out what you're saying. You're mumbling."

Izuku clapped his hands over his mouth. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright. I'm just an old man with hearing problems."

"You're not old! It's... I just- I just don't see how- how that's connected to this." He gestured at himself in all his vaguely-trembling glory.

"Young Midoriya... you almost died three separate times that day. That's traumatic. And sometimes anniversaries are... reminders."

"I only almost died once?"

"The first time with the sludge villain, grabbing on to my leg- and I don't think I ever apologized for telling you to let go, I was just so surprised- and then the sludge villain again."

"But I only almost died the first time..." He trailed off as Mr. Yagi gave him a look. He'd thought his mother was the only one who could give looks like that... "Do you really think this is connected to that?"

"I don't know," said Mr. Yagi. "Do you feel like it might be?"

"I don't know," said Izuku. He bent over and knotted his fingers in his hair.

"Do you think it might help to stay home today?"

"No!" yelped Izuku. "No," he repeated, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Alright, alright. Never fear, my boy." Mr. Yagi gave him another steadying shoulder pat. "In that case, let's go into this with the assumption that this is danger sense, and it is attempting to warn you of a real threat."

"Okay," said Izuku. He rubbed at his eyes. "What do we do first?"

Mr. Yagi tensed and looked up at the top floors of UA. "Well..."

"Hm!" said Nezu. "That is something of a conundrum! The extent of your quirk is unclear, and it is not properly registered, so we cannot go through the official routes we normally would for a warning given through a precognitive or clairvoyant quirk, even given that we are aware of One for All and the probable nature of Danger Sense."

Nezu knowing about One for All had been a bit of a surprise. In retrospect, maybe it shouldn't have been. All Might would have had to tell Nezu something so that Izuku was allowed on campus before he was really a student, and seeing as how All Might was originally teaching here to find a successor... well, it made sense. Izuku just wished he'd been told.

How many other people knew was a question for later, however.

"Your inexperience with the quirk and other circumstances further complicates the matter."

"Sorry," said Izuku.

"Whatever for? It isn't your fault." Nezu did not wait for an answer. "Then there is yesterday's incident to consider... You say you felt something with the reporters?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Hm. Yes. Toshinori, I so believe you have a contact who could clear this up much more efficiently."

"I know," said Mr. Yagi. "He isn't picking up his phone."

"You don't think-?" started Izuku.

"No, no, he just hasn't been speaking to me lately."

"Oh? I was under the impression you had been communicating with him regularly since returning to Musutafu."

"He thought I would change my mind about something I didn't change my mind about, apparently. It doesn't matter. What else can we do?"

"A good number of things, luckily. Midoriya, I am going to make a series of phone calls. I would like you to tell me if the sensation you are experiencing changes at all while I make them."

"Yes, sir."

Nezu began methodically going through Izuku's list of teachers, warning them that something 'like yesterday' might happened and going over lesson plans and safety procedures. Nothing really changed. Until Nezu called Thirteen.

(Oh, gosh, they were going to go to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint on a field trip today? That was so cool!)

But after Nezu talked to Thirteen about checking safety systems, a little bit of the tension he'd been holding onto leaked away.

"Interesting," said Nezu. "Perhaps we should reschedule rescue training until-"

Izuku dove for Nezu's garbage bin.

"-or perhaps not," mused Nezu as Izuku expelled the meager contents of his stomach.

It was a good thing he hadn't eaten breakfast.

"Hikage," said Banjo. "I'm sorry for calling you a dead-eyed emotionally stunted bastard with a warped sense of humor if this is what you had to put up with all the time."

"You called me a dead-eyed emotionally stunted bastard?"

"Not to your face, but yes."

"Well. It isn't as if those things aren't all true..."

"I'm okay," said Izuku. "That just... felt bad."

"No cancelations in that case," said Nezu as Mr. Yagi hovered.

"Y-yeah. Oh gosh, now I know how Uraraka feels..."

"Perhaps you should stay home-"

"No! I can't! That would be..."

Nezu held up his hands- paws? "It was merely a suggestion. Can I offer you some tea?"

"Yes, please," said Izuku, voice catching uncomfortably on his raw throat.

"I do have a few more calls to make. Do you feel up to staying, or would you prefer to head down to Recovery Girl? Or perhaps even the cafeteria? I imagine you haven't eaten breakfast."

"I'd like to stay."

"Very well." Nezu picked up his phone again. Izuku could just make out the click on the other end when it was picked up. "Am I a mouse? A dog? A bear? One thing's for sure! I'm the principal!" There was laughter on the other end of the line. "No, not at all! I am in fact calling for you, Tensei. Or should I say, Ingenium? I'm aware this is last minute, and you were planning on taking the day off- How do I know? It was quite simple, really- but between the break-in yesterday and a tip I received this morning regarding a threat to the school, I would like a few more hands on deck than usual. Why, yes, you can stay with your brother's class. Do try not to tease Shouta too much. He has a reputation to maintain." After a few more pleasantries, Nezu hung up. "Midoriya?"

"I... think that's better? I'm sorry, it's hard to tell what could be the quirk and what's just me feeling bad."

Nezu nodded. "In that case, I do recommend that you head to Recovery Girl's office. My other calls will be similar, and the other heroes will not be with your class."

"Why not?" asked Mr. Yagi.

"Because Midoriya's reaction to the field trip being canceled suggests that the danger may not be limited to himself or his class. Oh! And one more thing. Midoriya, I noticed that you put in some costume alteration requests. Naturally, most of them will not be finished until some time next week, however, some of the support items you mentioned are fairly common. If you have time before the field trip, you should pay a visit to Power Loader."

Izuku hadn't expected it, but he did feel much better after eating, despite his continuing sense of impending doom. It was also about half an hour from the beginning of homeroom, so he had the time to go to the support department and check if they had anything he could take.

He hoped they had grappling hooks. Izuku had always wanted a grappling hook.

Mr. Yagi took him most of the way there, but students had started to arrive at this point, and Izuku convinced him to go prepare for classes (and hide in the staff area so that no one would wonder why he, a skeleton man not recognizable as a hero, was at the school). Before too long, Izuku stood in front of a rather sturdy-looking metal door. He hoped this was the right one.

He raised his hand to knock just as something crashed into him. Ah. This was it for sure. The way he would die. The danger he had foreseen.

No. Wait. Never mind. He was fine, just on the ground.

"Oh! There was a person there! You okay?"

"U-um," said Izuku, sitting up and rubbing his head. "I'm fine, just a little startled."

"What're you doing here, anyway?"

"I- I'm here for... support... gear?" He sort of trailed off as he looked up.

It was the intense pink haired girl from the other day. As he watched, her expression changed from one of mild concern to calculating interest.

"Support gear, you say?"

Shouta answered his phone as he walked down the hall. "Nezu, I've already done every security check I can think of that'll fit-"

"Not quite why I was calling, although I can see why you would think so. One of your students needs to be rescued from the support department."

Shouta changed direction without missing a beat. "It's Midoriya, isn't it?"

"Why, yes."

"Did you send him down there without warning him?"

"Yes, again. You know me so well!"

Shouta hung up.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #danger first au #danger first #fic #fanfic

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ugh-againwiththenames · 3 years

Text

So Many Fanfics So Little Time

This is just my list, I have seen so many (but if you want to use it it’s all yours too!). I’m not a writer. But I am a hell of a reader. Voracious one might argue. I just wanted to track my progress through the weeds of the absolutely never ending supply of Destiel and Cockles fanfic.

Read on if you want to see what I’ve read, and what I’ve thought. I am but one person with opinions - some of them may be unpopular - some of them you might agree with, but if you find something you haven’t read here, I encourage you to do so.

Honestly, this is just so I can track what I have read already, and when my friends ask, I can reference something easily. I have found some different fics on all kinds of ‘best of’ lists all over the interwebs. And I love recs - so rec away friends.

As someone who reads a solid 40 novels a year typically, I don’t come by the “I read a lot” innocently. I do actually read a LOT. When not reading fanfic (a new obsession, all things being fair), I usually read a lot of Fantasy/high fantasy, romance/erotica, and or YA (yeah, that was a bit of a ride no?). So from this one might digress that I like fluffy, cute stories, complicated and supernatural/paranormal type stories, and I sure do not shy away from violence or smut (or maybe violence with smut? *smirk*).

I have read all of these in the last 2-3 months (I will continue to add as I go). I had never read a fanfic until 2-3 months ago. A lot of these wonderful people are on here, and I mean you no offence by not directly tagging you - I’m still learning how to actually properly use this site. Links to AO3 are included (and I love you all).

These aren’t necessarily in any real order - I did read T&S first, followed by 91W, and 4LW...after that it’s just a shit show of Long or Short, Destiel or Cockles - smorgasbord. Some of these are the most popular Fics out there, and others I’ve never seen recc’d anywhere (just sort of accidentally happened upon them). So let’s get to it, shall we?

Twist and Shout - ok look. I understand the stigma associated with this one, but it was the FIRST one I read. It was the ball that shot me down the hill, and I haven’t stopped since. So. I loved it. I CRIED like a baby. SOBBED. It was not the quality of the writing but the way the story was developed and delivered. I have Never Cried Like This Reading a Story IN MY LIFE. It’s a rite of passage. Read It and have an opinion - it doesn’t need to be mine.

Author(s): gabriel, standbyme https://archiveofourown.org/works/537876/chapters/955188

Ninety-One Whiskey - aka 91W, it is mentioned so much, and is SO worth the read. I continued my dive into the war fics (not typically my bag really and here I was reading 2 in a row). There are a couple of followup stories as well to this series (and yes, I’ve read them all). Although I’ll say that the original is my favourite. I often got lost in a bit of the War/Tactical descriptions, but would recommend it to anyone anyway. Ugh...the “stolen moments”...they were at the same time tragic and the most amazing things ever. You feel me? no? go read it.

Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362190/chapters/5214500

Four Letter Word for Intercourse - aka 4LW. OMG just, OMG. I loved this story. I loved it so much. I think I read it in a day. Devoured it. It’s so HOT. Just read it. If you haven’t you’re missing out. LEMME AT IT. I loved “knowing the secret”, and had some major anxiety about that realization dawning (I had to take a breath, and be like, no, no, this is gonna be a mess, but it’s gonna be SO GOOD - I was not disappointed). There’s more than one work here too - read them all. PLEASE.

Author: bendingsignpost https://archiveofourown.org/works/16086839/chapters/37568591

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) - This was the first Sobs one I read, but it sent me on a spree. this is the Memory Loss one. I have one piece of advice here - read everything by Sobsicles. You can thank me later...just go to her page, and fucking sort to supernatural (or not, read it all!) I’d list them but I’d fucking seriously be here all day. Also, her tags make me laugh so hard.

Author: sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Orpheus - I love this one too, Tattooed!Cas, my LOVE. paired with Mechanic!Dean, my HEART, #help. Read this one in one evening as well. (I was on a roll). It’s a one night stand that turns into more (much like my last relationship)....hmm...maybe this is why I was pulled in - although to be fair that is the last similarity to my shitty love life! I do not remember how I stumbled onto this one (tattooed Cas may have been the draw...tbh). Read the warnings though, there is some triggering stuff in this one - but if you can handle it, it’s definitely worth the read.

Author: sysrae https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364347/chapters/5220227

Have Love, Will Travel - Can you say no to Stripper!Dean? Cause I sure as hell cannot. Typical sort of character development here with Dean having trust issues, and Cas being painfully awkward...(but in like a super cute way?). Would Recommend.

Author: squeemonster https://archiveofourown.org/works/565455/chapters/1011747

The Inexhaustible Silence of Houses - Change of pace here...It’s got a nice twist. I didn’t actually clue into how it was going to end until very near the end (maybe I was being oblivious), when the realization came over me and I was...man. I was DONE IN. I hope that doesn’t spoil (I need some kind of way of remembering them). Voiceless!Cas Hunter!Dean

Author: Askance (doomcountry) https://archiveofourown.org/works/560268/chapters/1000755

Adagio - This is super short, and super cute. Honestly, I would read the whole thing just for the last line. It’ll take you less than an hour if I remember correctly. Go, I’ll wait. I squeeed. did you?

Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397248/chapters/2928145

Any Little Heartache - super easy read (not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’ll fly through it’ way). It’s mid-length, not graphic, but really fun hospital AU. HeartSurgeon!Dean / Nurse!Cas - enemies to lovers anyone? Fuck you to Fuck me? yeah. YUM.

Author: followthattardis https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143376/chapters/11838311

Ad Astra - This is another short(ish) one, just one chapter. And by that I mean that this is written like a very long poem. Cas as a star who has visited Dean many times over the years of his life, that culminates in 4x01 barn scene. It’s ‘awe’ sad. ‘puppy dog eyes’ sad. The writing format took me a bit to understand what was happening - it’s my lack of poetry knowledge, not the writing.

Author: nhixxie https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013491

Ad Astra Per Aspera - This is a cute story. ESL writer, no judgement. I found this while looking for the one above, and thought the premise looked cute - and it was. Misunderstanding leading to Dean realizing he’s actually Bi. Miscommunication leading to realization.

Author: Riverchester https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354336/chapters/28101816

Psalm 40:2 - Time travel post-canon Cas and Pre-series Dean. If you’re wondering how that works, strap in for this ride, it’s well worth it.

Author: unicornpoe https://archiveofourown.org/works/30786425/chapters/75992444

Addicted to You - Warlock!Dean/Incubus!Cas - accidental ‘mating’ (I actually really don’t like that word, but there’s sort of no avoiding it in this situation). Cute story. When you drunk dial a succubus and get an incubus instead...Whatever will we do?

Author: Ltleflrt https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387346/chapters/9959288

A Glimpse Beyond - End Fix-it. Not yet complete, 10 chapters so far...I want MORE! Reliving memories Dean/Cas & Sam/Eileen.

Author: NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731689/chapters/67875925

Cas-ti-el - Please I want more...It’s like the story just started. Please write more of this story!! 1 chapter, it’s a trope prompt challenge, but I want it to be a full on story of its own. Imprinted names of their soul mates, Dean doesn’t understand his (because it’s in a different language)...I’m frustrated by wanting this story to keep going.

Author: Valinde (Valyria) https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941591

Our Bodies, Posessed by Light - another short one. Not going to lie, this one took a little getting used to, and I can’t say that I enjoyed it too much for the sole purpose that the premise gave me the willies. Cas has to vessel jump - ends up in Sam...I got through it, it had a good ending, but yeah, sorry. This just wasn’t for me.

Author: obstinatrix https://archiveofourown.org/works/260289

Peanut Butter Pumpkin Wedding Cake - Waiter!Dean / Writer!Cas - This is so effing cute, just misunderstanding after misunderstanding bumbling around like the couple of dorks that they are. It’s only one chapter. 100% would recommend.

Author: Sparseparsley https://archiveofourown.org/works/223962

Destiel, Actually - This is another super cute story, 5 chapters. Gabriel playing a singular role in putting Dean and Cas in awkward positions to push them together. I fucking DIED at “oh, I am the sub” - needs context, but I guarantee you that you’ll laugh out loud...

Author: Bexism https://archiveofourown.org/works/399934/chapters/658398

The Smell Before the Rain - This was my first A/B/O - a big apology to all those who are into mpreg and whatnot, this was my lesson that I am not. this was not for me. Also - I’m a firm Cas (Alpha/Dom) believer, and i’m good with switch Cas, but it’s hard for me to take him being the full Omega here, when paired with the rest I just couldn’t do it. I finished it, but, not my thing. I know now.

Author: jscribbles https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355230/chapters/53406127

Crazy Diamonds - This is another short one, only 3 chapters - it’s a body swap for Dean, 4x02 him and 2018 him swap places (assumption that 2018 him is “with” Cas). It’s a super cute little story.

Author: pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151642/chapters/37738631

The Breath of All Things - Wheelchair!Dean / Volunteer!Cas. This is a lovely story, typical Dean self-hatred etc. Triggering for those with suicide warnings. It had me in tears at the end. There’s a really spectacular quote near the end that I found so romantic I screen grabbed it.

Author: KismetJeska https://archiveofourown.org/works/994750/chapters/1967519

Kind of a Forever Deal - SummerCamp!AU This is just a really cute and fluffy summer camp AU. Which is so different from 91W (That’s right, check the author)! I was a little disappointed with the ending, but otherwise really enjoyed this all the way through and was loving all the discovery and young characterizations of all the characters.

Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/999291/chapters/1978478

Everytown, USA - Best way I can break this one down? Wanderer!Dean (listless and without a place in the world, he ends up in a small town...), Twin!Cas (that leads to some fun things). There are a number of points where you’re gonna yell at Dean for doing stupid shit (that are very much in character for him to do), you think, well, yes, obviously you’re going to do that you silly fucking boy [affectionate]; but whyyy? (but we know).

Author: aileenrose https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797559/chapters/3854836

Chalk and Chainmail - HighSchool!AU, Cas is an artist, Dean LARP’s - it’s cute and angsty.

Author: lemonsorbae https://archiveofourown.org/works/804704/chapters/1517551

A Little Patience - Ok. you want smut? This is your story. You want Kink? This is your story. I actually did not finish this. It got a little carried away in my opinion. It was VERY panty kink oriented (which, while essentially canon isn’t really my kink) so, if you want that Panty Kink on full display? Go forth and enjoy! it is thirty something chapters, I got to the mid-twenties I Think.

Author: riseofthefallenone https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750058/chapters/3739232

Control - I REALLY ENJOYED THIS. Which is saying a lot for someone who has already admitted that a Subby Cas isn’t really my HC - so to so thoroughly enjoy a Sub!Cas story? (maybe it’s the tattooes...*wink*). It’s an AU where Cas is the head of a company - Dean is a callboy I guess, for lack of a better term. Just read it.

Author: dothraki_shieldmaiden https://archiveofourown.org/works/31156601/chapters/76993217

More (I copy pasted the next lot from my google doc, I’ll flush them out later - no i wont...)

Teach Me (short) - movie night in the bunker, things get a little carried away Author: Chiyume https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961327

You Light the Spark (in my bonfire heart) (short) - when cas doesn't realize that dean is unaware of his feelings, super short, super cute Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193910

Communication Breakdown (short/cockles) - dean ends up in Jensen's head while he films the confession scene, no sexual content Author: jujubiest https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Look What You Made Me Do (short/cockles) - - Vegas Con 2020 / jensen comes out with a song - cute short - no sexual content Author: green_blue_heller https://archiveofourown.org/works/30251592 Full House (short/cockles) - reimagined version of the rented house story - putting it in order (so to speak). funny / cute / fluffy not explicit Author: n_nami https://archiveofourown.org/works/30855827

Cyber Sex (short/cockles) - anastiel https://archiveofourown.org/works/31467086 - shameless post GISH Fest zoom call porn - Short (very short)

It's Complicated (cockles) - gail_morgan https://archiveofourown.org/works/31434938/chapters/77747519 The GISHtake (short/cockles) - MellyCrazyCoconut https://archiveofourown.org/works/31508099 - cute short post GISH zoom - oops "babe, really?"

(10.02.2021 updated) Since last update: New reads - Fuck i’m gonna be here all day - there’s not gonna be as much gonna be NO detail in these breakdowns...sorry! This has now just become a “what i’ve read list” as opposed to a Rec list...

Love, All Alike (Pt. 1 Love, All Alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555599/chapters/10370646 - Though The Stars Walk Backward (pt 2 Love, All alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves

And this, your living kiss - opal_bullets https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083927/chapters/42744872

Come On, Let's Strike a Match (Domination and Submission: a love story pt 1) - anyrei & queerwerewolf *** https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722478/chapters/62458810 - Playing With Fire (D&S: a love story pt 2) - We Kiss and the Flames Get Higher (D&S: a love story pt 3) - Sparking That Old Flame (D&S: a love story pt 4)

Cinderwings - bendingsignpost Cinderella!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/12847041/chapters/29336421

Linden - fleeceframe Swan!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/33126730/chapters/82236118

No Netflix, No Chill (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764966

Can't Drink You Away (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785792

Jensen Totally (Does Not!) Snore (short RPF) - Dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/30315717

Dean Ships It (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/30349434

All about control - wingless https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151930/chapters/20791243

Aesthetics in Autoerotica (pt 1 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885544 - The Ties that Bind (pt 2 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant

Let's take a drive - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/32581027/chapters/80819581

Enchanted ink - castielslostwings TattooArtist!Dean TattooArtist!Castiel AU *** https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043622/chapters/55109530

The bones beneath our skin - darknessbound https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633754/chapters/59515804

The Plot (RPF) - Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795588/chapters/6274970

The Gentle Force with which you Take Me (RPF) - Phoenix_Ascended https://archiveofourown.org/works/32110120/chapters/79549183

According to all known laws of Life (Pt. 1 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207901 - and he's back (with a mind of his own) (pt. 2 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles

Six hundred sundays (and many more) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/31158776

Aching in the Absence of you - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/31832977/chapters/78811378

gorging myself on you, still can’t get full (insatiable) (Short) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/32203291

memories bring back memories (bring back you) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Dream Come True (short) - bendingsignpost https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071159

tall grass - aeli_kindara https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127040/chapters/30030726

asunder (Short) - rageprufrock https://archiveofourown.org/works/62115

Apheresis - bendingsignpost BloodDonor!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/32674783/chapters/81056680

we always were but never knew it - frightfullyrude https://archiveofourown.org/works/32698324/chapters/81119503

In this Louisiana Bar (Short) - fleeceframe https://archiveofourown.org/works/31764487

The Hitchhiker's Guide to Alternate Universes - n_nami https://archiveofourown.org/works/32687929/chapters/81092785

my heart a compass - lagaudiere https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629951

Unsound Inverses - sp8ce (not complete) https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836881/chapters/73413300

The Jensen Mistake (RPFish) - fellshish https://archiveofourown.org/works/31950169

tell me about the dream (Pt. 1 Kids are coming home) - playedwright https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984813/chapters/68544450

It's handy to know (FIMMF Themed ;)) - RosaMarloes https://archiveofourown.org/works/31761322

So Says The Sword - komodobits AngelTrueform!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597892/chapters/28695592

Communication Breakdown (RPFish)- darkshrimpemotions (jujubiest) https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Carry You Home - Casloveshisfreckles https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982637/chapters/65862916

In the Shadow of your Wings - Enochian Things (Salr323) https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531294/chapters/17121655

When Harry Met Sally (RPF) (Pt. 1 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622347/chapters/17351845 - Eight Dildos (RPF) (Pt. 2 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood - Attention, Please (RPF) (Pt. 3 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood - Boat Trip (RPF) (Pt. 4 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood

A Winter's Tale - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654327/chapters/5930561

A Close Shave - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090167

r/supernatural - renrub (short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626783

sam reads destiel fics - rebshome (short - funny!) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33721624

Angel Cookies - noxsoulmate Chirstmas!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729640/chapters/26427765

Under The Midnight Sun - NorthernSparrow Arctic!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/16690645/chapters/39143677

Bron-Yr-Aur - mrbluesky (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225335

The Dean Winchester Beat Sheet - saltyfeathers https://archiveofourown.org/works/19258594/chapters/45800209

The Meaning On My Skin - saltnhalo https://archiveofourown.org/works/18005378/chapters/42538133

Red Right Hand (Pt. 1 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306110/chapters/9760008 - Are you the One that I've been waiting for? (pt. 2 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos

Riptides - sharkfish https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230426/chapters/30263556

Damn Fine Ride - Cimorene105 (pt 1 - rodeo) Cowboy!AU** (I’m a horse girl, sue me...) https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342340 - My Face Just Does This, Sometimes - Cimorene105 (pt. 2 rodeo) - The Kinkiest Thing I've Ever Done- Cimorene105 (pt 3 rodeo) - All Signs Point to Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 4 rodeo) - Monster Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 5 rodeo) - My Man, The Siren - Cimorene105 (pt. 6 rodeo) - A Pain in My Ass - Cimorene105 (pt. 7 rodeo)

Astrolabe (terra incognita pt 1) - reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348812/chapters/7326794 - Drollery (terra incognita pt 2) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent - Rubrication (terra incognita pt 3) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent

Go Down With This Ship - PorcupineGirl https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023642/chapters/18370474

Fire and Ice - Castielslostwings (Firefighter/Paramedic AU!) ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286295/chapters/55768486

The Structural Similarities of Hunters and Onions - Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33383101

Castiel Novak's Office, This is Dean - emmbrancsxx0 https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411336/chapters/53545840

Out of the Deep (out of the deep pt. 1) - riseofthefallenone - MERMAID AU! ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878/chapters/977676

Dean (and Cas') Top 13 Zepp Traxx - pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909440/chapters/24256989

I'll Be Good - LittleAngelCassie https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118334/chapters/9282234

Kenosis - CastielsCarma (Short - part of Destiel ABC collection) https://archiveofourown.org/works/30411720

#fics #fic recs #fanfiction #ao3 #cockles #destiel #dean and cas #jensen and misha #one track mind #supernatural #please send me recs #read more fics #this is my new obsession

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delldarling · 3 years

Text

all that matters | merrick

chasing truth | chapter nine male faerie x gender/body neutral reader 7803 words lemon | teasing about relationship, communication about feelings and past relationships, kissing, nipping/mild biting, hair pulling, oral, hands, lube, penetrative sex, banter & talking during sex chapter index? or chapter eight?

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

For a moment or two, you can bury the knowledge of Faerie behind the facades you've come to know and care for. You've known Gar as nothing more than a handsome, nerdy human being for years, and Merrick? Sarcastic, awkward Merrick has been one of your closest friends over the past year and change. It's safe to say that you've spent ample time in their presence, trading jokes and building stories you know you'll share for years to come.

That false screen over their true selves won’t ever last now though. You know what lies under their glamour, and you know them too well. You can't ignore the things you've seen. Neither you nor Merrick will ever doubt Gar's morality and honesty again. Not when it comes to those he cares for. Not after what he’s told you and Merrick about his Court.

The car doors close in quick succession, one after the other, echoing down the dim, silent street. No one comes to investigate. No lights flicker behind the curtained windows, and no one cracks open their door. It's a relief, and yet a mild disappointment, knowing what you're all about to do.

“This still doesn’t sit particularly right with me,” you say softly, words barely more than a breath tickling your lower lip. You clutch your bag to your chest, fingertips digging into the seams to better distract yourself. Ditching the car and taking another makes sense, but just because it makes sense doesn’t mean you have to like it. Or approve of it.

Merrick can’t quite look you in the face, but Gar only shrugs. “It’s not the kindest option, not by a long shot, but we can’t travel on foot,” he says. Part of you wants to cringe because Gar doesn’t mean we, he means you. “Besides, we need to make it to where we’re staying in the next few hours, and this is the quickest way to tempt Roran closer without putting any of us in danger.”

You turn, eyeing the cars lining the street, and sigh. More stealing. It’s fairly silly that you’re worrying about this kind of crime, especially when you’ve already been riding around in a stolen car all day with a faerie assassin. You can’t stop the itch of the thought in the back of your brain, which probably means this is how you’re attempting to compartmentalize everything.

“I won’t even break the seatbelts this time,” Merrick tells you, cautiously placing his hand on your shoulder, fingers feather light. Relief eases the tension around his eyes when you don’t move away, and he sighs when you step into the circle of his arms. “If you don’t want to witness it,” he whispers, leaning his head against yours, “then I suggest you keep holding me. He’s right though. We can’t keep the same car, not after we clouded the whole thing with glamour.”

“I know,” you say against his neck, enjoying the warmth of his skin against your cheek and temple. “I get it, the whole thing, but it’s not going to stop feeling wrong just because I know it’s necessary.”

Merrick breathes deep, and you can already tell that he’s going to keep trying to explain it away. “If we thought that-”

“You don’t need to defend yourself. We’ll get in the new car, we’ll head to our stop for the night and it’ll be fine. I just… Need to compartmentalize, and that’s rather new.” You sigh against his neck, the tickle of breath making him shiver. Merrick shifts, hands leaving your back and sliding up your shoulders until he can cradle your face in his hands. His thumbs stroke over your cheekbones, tender and careful, and you can’t think to do anything but blink up at him.

“Or I could distract you?” He offers, and bends his head down, covering your lips with his. A few hours ago and you would have been too tired, too on edge and hungry for food to let him try this, no matter how attracted you are to him. But everything with him, regardless of the fear and adrenaline, is still brand new and leaves your fingers aching, eager to keep him close. Even with all that you’ve learned, Merrick still feels the same, warm skin and calloused fingers, and it’s familiar and… comforting. When his mouth opens, breath hitching as you lean in against him, you find yourself wondering how eager he’s been for more of this. More of you.

Merrick puts his whole body into the kiss, pressed against you from chest to thigh, the taste of floral tea filling your senses as his fingertips carefully stroke behind your ears. He hums into your mouth when you roll your tongue and even though your eyes have fallen closed, you could almost swear that a brilliant light is beginning to shi—

“Hey!” Gar shouts hoarsely, and something hard bounces off of Merrick’s forehead. When the two of you stop kissing, eyes darting to the small item rolling slowly away from you, it turns out to be a small, wizened acorn, cap long lost. The two of you turn to look at Gar with startled expressions and find him trying to hold a fierce scowl on his lips. A muscle in his cheek jumps, betraying his amusement.

“I hope the both of you realize what happens every time that starts up! And if you do then I suggest you take a moment to reflect... You don’t,” Gar says after a moment, stalking closer with a steady frown now on his lips. “Merrick, you light up like a firefly every time you touch! You may as well be a torch in the middle of the street!”

Merrick’s mouth opens, attempting to disagree, but his lips curl and his nose wrinkles, like he’s tasted something off.

“You do. I’m over here jimmying open a car door, trying to steal it, and suddenly there’s a blazing light in the middle of the road! Everyone on this street is probably going to come out here, and-” Gar freezes when you shush him, eyebrows rising.

“Everyone is going to wake up if you’re shouting!” You snap, embarrassed but mostly tense because you still cannot quite believe you’re both being chastised for a handful of kisses. Both of the faeries grimace, shoulders hunching like they want the ground to swallow them whole. “I’m never going to say this again,” you mutter, already regretting your interruption, “but please: Go back to stealing the car, and Merrick and I will discuss his—his enthusiasm.” The frown on Gar’s face promptly vanishes.

“Enthusiasm,” he mutters, a goofy smile replacing his initial ire. He looks slyly at Merrick, but then holds up his hands in surrender when Merrick glares. “Right. Stealing. I’ll be quiet until it’s time to go.” He turns on his heel, heading back towards an old looking Datsun, a ridiculous little spring in his step. You’re fairly certain Merrick is going to make him pay for that later.

“So,” you say, your heart suddenly ricocheting off of your ribcage before it settles back into place. “You… You glow?” You have to fight not to laugh, though Merrick notices straight off. His eyes narrow before he sucks a deep breath in through his mouth.

He tries, twice, to say something, but ends up shaking his head and closing his eyes, breathing out through his nose. “Apparently,” he finally settles on. “You make me happy, make me- forget myself. Or forget everything else. I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again, but I’ll be more conscious of it.”

“Is that a normal thing?” You can’t help asking, laughing quietly when his shoulders slump.

“For my sake, I hope it isn’t. We should go though. I believe Gar is finishing up.” He nods his head in Gar’s direction, but you don’t even look towards your friend. Your eyes are caught on the collar of Merrick’s shirt, replaying everything Gar had confessed to earlier in the car.

“Gar doesn’t lie,” you murmur. “You agreed, he can’t have been lying. After everything he’s been through.... Is there any way—”

Merrick presses his lips together until they’re nothing more than a slash across his face. “If what Gar says is the truth, then none of us should have lived the lives we have.” Merrick grits his teeth, hands growing loose in their grip on your arms and nods towards Gar again. “Back in the car. Roran might not be close yet, but it still isn’t safe. The last thing we need is humans with guns seeing us stealing vehicles.”

You have to agree with that, but you still can’t help wondering about it all in the ensuing silence. Gar worked as a Guard in the Court of Land for the entirety of his adult life. He refused the Queen’s direct orders to kill a disobeying gardener, but... The Fae aren’t supposed to be able to disobey their monarchs. After Gar’s confession, he and Merrick had shared a serious, silent conversation with only a look. One you had no hope of deciphering and while you know you can’t actually do anything about Gar’s situation, you can’t stop yourself from worrying about it. You turn it over and over in your mind as the three of you drive away, meager belongings in hand, and time slowly slips away from you. You barely notice when you leave the main roads behind, but when the car pulls to a stop in almost full darkness, you lift your eyes. Gar has parked in the driveway of a rather ornately decorated cabin, surrounded on all sides by tall trees. You glance back down the drive, but all it reveals is more forest. You must be out in the middle of nowhere.

“I thought we were heading to a hotel?” You ask, confused as Gar gets out, grabbing both his bag and your own before you can even think to take hold of it..

“I said I knew how to use the internet, not that I was going to head to a hotel.” He gestures to the surrounding woods, trees shading parts of the cabin from view. “Hotels, or motels even, have too many witnesses. Even if we lock down on any glamour use and I hide my hands and ears?” Gar makes one pointed look Merrick’s way, eyes roving from his face, to the way he carries himself. Both of them have always been lovely, and Gar definitely has his fair share of admirers—Em comes immediately to mind—but Merrick?

With his fair curls, and the utter disdain he directs at just about everyone who shows him attention that he doesn’t want, he’s always stood out. Never mind that he hides his ears, and the great tattoos of his wings, you were hardly the only person who had been unable to tear your eyes away from him every time you met. You’re still not sure how he managed to hide so much of himself for so long, especially after all the times he’d hung out on camping trips or went out for drinks. Yeah. Gar doesn’t have to say anything else. No matter where you go, there is going to be someone who won’t be able to forget Merrick’s face, or demeanor, or both.

You glance back at the cabin as Gar passes you by. The clean windows and paved driveway, and the careful tending done to the planter boxes hanging from the windows...

“Did you book us an Airbnb?” You can’t help asking, rushing to keep up when Merrick starts walking to the door too.

Gar throws a sweet grin over his shoulder, cheek growing a shade darker with green. “Two bedrooms and everything. I’m going to leave you and Merrick to get settled,” he teases. You would like to kick him for that one, but you can’t actually deny that a few moments alone with Merrick will be pleasant. “And I’m going to grab food from a supermarket. I’ll be less... conspicuous by myself,” he says idly, like he’s still thinking everything through. He unlocks the door, not even bothering to set down the bags to do it, and then sweeps inside.

Gar is a whirlwind as he moves through the cabin, turning on lights and dropping your stuff in the small, but cozy main room. He gives you enough time to get through the door, checking out the small windows in the common area and the kitchen, and then turns to leave. He clasps Merrick’s shoulder once, nods his head at both of you, eyes already distant and then he’s gone, back through the still open door. You take a few steps after him, mouth opening to call out a goodbye, but he’s vanished. You blink, confused, because he didn’t even take the car, but then… Well, you knew already that the only reason they hadn’t left town on foot was because of you.

“That was weirdly intentional,” you mutter, quietly closing the door. For a moment, you hesitate, hand over the lock, mind racing. You can’t really ignore the fact that you don’t need any food. They’d brought plenty of things from the apartment in the array of bags that Merrick had brought in. Maybe he’s really just trying to give you and Merrick some time on your own? And he has the key, you remind yourself, finally locking the door. You turn, quietly wandering around the little cabin you’re going to be staying at for… who knows how long. You can feel Merrick’s eyes on you, but he doesn’t actually follow until you head into one of the bedrooms. Both of the rooms are medium sized, clean, and better than any standard motel, that’s for sure. The decor all has some kind of woodsy theme that makes you wrinkle your nose, but Gar might appreciate the irony of it, what with his tree affinity. We’re not X-Men, slips back into your head, making you smile wryly.

Merrick slides past you, groaning as he flops backwards onto the bed. His hat slips off of his head as he bounces, his curls falling in a picture perfect halo around his face. With no one else around, you’re not sure if his hair looks so bright because you don’t normally see him with his hat off, or if it’s because he’s beginning to glow in your presence. You bite back a smile.

“How are.. How are you holding up?” You ask, sitting so you can kick the knock-off keds down on the floor. You stay where you are at the lower corner, but after a moment you pull your legs up to cross them, noticing the storage space under the bed. The place is definitely lovely, but it’s still out in the middle of nowhere, and unknown. You wonder if anyone ever gets over wondering if something is underneath the bed, but you can’t bring yourself to get down and check. The momentary image of Roran waiting underneath has your heart speeding, though you’re not sure whether you want to laugh or shiver.

Merrick swallows, but summons up a smile for you. It’s not brilliant or blinding, but it’s real, if soft. “To be honest, I’m not actually sure?”

“You don’t have to know, Merrick.” You reach out, tugging a wrinkle in his trousers, just under his knee. “I’m asking if you need to talk about things. If you don’t want to—” You stop when Merrick shakes his head.

“I’m… I’m happy, because of you. Because you found out about me and you didn’t run. And... I’m hurting because of Roran.” His cheeks tense, which likely means he’s gritting his teeth again, trying to puzzle his way through the labyrinth of his own feelings.

You take a deep breath, unsure as to whether he’s going to be okay with the line of questioning you’re opening up, but you have to do it. It’s not even that you have to know, but Merrick very much looks like he needs to talk about it. He might not get another chance, not without Gar around, and you’re not sure he wants to do that, not after what you heard in the car.

“...Is Roran your ex?” You ask, fully expecting a wince and closed eyes, or for him to immediately look away.

“Are you going to be surprising me like this forever?” He asks instead, laughing softly. You give him a small smile, but otherwise continue to stare. Human or Faerie, the question he asked isn’t actually one you can answer and keep truthful, and besides, you’re trying to get him to open up. You don’t want to push, or have him change the subject so quickly. “Not exactly,” he finally says.

“Merrick,” you softly chastise, because you know there’s more to the both of them than that. He sighs, brows furrowing, but finally begins to speak.

“We made no declarations. Roran had plenty of other lovers and I didn’t mind. I—I was never much interested in anyone, but I didn’t mind passing the time with Roran. My interest in him was sparse, at best.” He frowns, like he realizes how that sounds and pauses to lick his lips. “I cared about his well being and I enjoyed his company, especially as a friend, but my interest lay in my work. In fulfilling the orders the King gave me, and I never felt like I had anything left to truly give him. Not really.”

“Did he.. Think you were exclusive to him?” You ask, drawing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You can’t deny that it’s an awkward feeling, knowing this. But Merrick has been by your side for a year, and you knew he was keeping secrets. It doesn’t change your feelings, however strange it might be, finding out that he’s been with others, but the knowledge does put a different spin on what you witnessed back at your house. “I’m not condoning anything, his actions or—I’m just trying to understand where he’s coming from,” you rush to say, when Merrick looks slightly pained.

“Not exactly,” he says again, and truly grimaces when the words pass his lips. “He asked for my love, asked for any scrap of attention I would be willing to throw his way, and for a time it was easy. I always liked him, and giving him that much had never really been a problem. But before I came, I told him I wasn’t his. That my heart was my own.” Merrick sits up, and he looks torn, staring down at his empty hands. “I told him I wouldn’t die, and that, I think, is what he was initially angry about. He thought I’d died, and I never made the effort to correct that worry.”

That you might be able to understand.

“Okay, that I might agree with,” you tell him softly, shrugging when he looks at you, dark eyes wide. “Do Faeries apologize? Because leaving someone who cares for you is one thing, but letting them think you’re dead is… a little much. Granted, we’ve been raised very differently, so I can’t actually speak for him.”

“I, yeah, I do owe him that,” Merrick agrees. “But my heart—it’s yours, now,” he tells you, voice low and fierce, and desperately earnest. His eyes search your face, trace your slowly smiling mouth and you’re suddenly very thankful that Gar decided to vacate the premises for a while. “I can’t change how I feel, though by Air I tried at first. But I don’t want to change how I feel about you. No matter what happens with Gar, or with Roran, I want to stay with you, if you’ll let me.”

Your chest feels as if it’s all tangled up in knots, nerves and worry utterly strangled by the sudden tidal wave of softness. “I want you to stay, too,” you say, eyes drifting to the leaf pattern on the bedspread. “Even if you do change your feelings, you’ve been in my life for a year now, and.. I see you in the future, you know? If it’s with me, then great, if it’s as friends? I can see that t-”

Merrick leans in close, your name on his lips, interrupting the awkward string of words spilling out of you. “Then I won’t be leaving,” he assures you, his curls crushed against your forehead. “Not for any of them. I can’t turn away from this, and I have to help Gar, but I won’t leave,” he whispers, watching you closely, like he’s afraid you might disagree. You reel him in for a kiss instead, trying not to let your eyes linger on the way his lips tremble, but then he’s smiling against your mouth.

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

It almost doesn’t make sense, knowing you’d spent hours in your bed with Merrick, exploring each other, mapping out every inch of each other’s flesh with fingers and mouths… And all of that was less than two days ago. While it had been happening, it had felt like the only thing that mattered, like you’d never forget it. Your heartbeat had been so loud in your head that you could barely hear yourself think beyond the next touch, the next kiss.

After the day you’ve had, after everything that’s happened since you forced yourself to grab a few hours of rest in a stolen car, part of you wonders if there aren’t things you imagined. Did Merrick really like it when you touched his ears, or bit at the lobe of them and traced the cartilage with your tongue? Had he really made you fall to pieces so quickly on the kitchen counter, or had it only seemed that way, with adrenaline and hope and lust running high?

The first touch of his fingertips under your shirt is electric though, and the callous on his thumb catching at your hip makes you shiver. Regardless of the time you’d taken before, or how fast or slow things had actually happened, the chemistry between you is a heady thing.

Merrick’s kiss is slow, and more than just the press or slide of his lips on yours. It’s the pause before he kisses you, the beat as he pulls away, mouth parted, his breath soft against your skin before his tongue touches your lower lip, and then his mouth closes, sucking slightly, like he’s trying to taste a drop of honey that he knows was left behind.

How are you supposed to keep quiet with such attention focused on you?

The first soft gasp has Merrick’s hands skimming over your middle, hand coming to rest on your heart, to gauge your pulse before he tries to get your shirt off of you. Part of you thinks you should tease him and struggle with the material—he’s always trying to undress you first, isn’t he? But you’re too eager to get his mouth back on yours, to curl your hand into the curls at the base of his skull and pull, exposing his throat for kissing.

As soon as you do that, as soon as your fingers are tangled in his hair, Merrick glows. You don’t bother to point it out, you don’t really want to halt things at the moment, but you bite at his neck, wondering if any marks you leave will glow too.

His eyes close when you pull a little harder, his cheeks grow ruddy with color and then you let your own eyes unfocus, losing yourself in the feeling of him under your hands. He runs just slightly warmer, though you’re certain that could be your imagination. The heat of him against you feels wonderful though, and leaves you wanting more. You slide a hand along his back, reveling in the change of temperature, and sigh when he shudders under the sweep of your fingers.

He doesn’t pull away—his breath is coming faster as you suck at the skin of his neck—but Merrick’s hips shift, his legs settling to either side of yours and then he’s groaning, erection rutting against your thigh, trapped in his trousers.

“Harder,” he whispers, and for a second you’re not sure whether he means you to use your mouth or the hand in his hair, but a twitch of your wrist answers that question. His mouth falls open and you have to release his neck so you can lean back and take in the sight. It’s—It’s intoxicating, seeing how much you affect him. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen someone so eager for you, and then his eyes open, wonderfully dark underneath those pale lashes and arousal grows so strong in you that the ache of it is painful.

“What do you want?” You ask, voice low as his eyes trace your lips. You have to ask, because you’re not sure what you want, if you want to feel his mouth again, or use your mouth on him, or maybe-

“Everything,” he whispers, because it’s the truth, and that’s all that matters to him.

You huff out a laugh, knowing you probably look punch-drunk off of his kisses, off of touching him at all. “Merrick, as wonderful as that sounds, we’re going to have to narrow things down.”

He barely looks sheepish, though you catch his eyes darting to your bag near the side of the bed.

“I packed… Things?” He says, and his tone is so unsure that you want to pat his cheek.

“I could have sworn I looked through that bag,” you mutter, fighting a smile, but Merrick sits up on your thighs and you let him go. He looks, well—He already has sex hair, with the way you’ve been yanking at it, and neither of you have actually gotten there. Gar is going to have a field day when he comes back.

“Did you check the side pocket?” Merrick asks, and he leans over the edge of the bed, pants riding low on his hips and exposing the dimple on his lower back. He tugs at the zipper, fumbling about and comes up with lube and condoms, and a handful of other things you’d kept in your bedside drawer.

“Are all faeries this prepared?” You tease, smiling widely when he rolls his eyes. “Or am I just terribly lucky?”

He doesn’t respond, just hops off of you—and you can feel the difference now, as it’s cold without him—and pulls off his clothes like he has no sense of modesty. It’s always a rush, seeing him bare this way. The tattoos of his wings are still impressive, catching your eye and drawing your gaze over his shoulder and bicep as he turns to face you fully, but then your eyes lower and your breath quickens.

“I can’t get enough of this,” Merrick murmurs and he looks so damned earnest, sitting down next to you on the bed and leaning over you so he can brace himself up on his forearms. “The way you look at me. For so long I thought I was imagining things-” And you do laugh when he says that.

“You thought you were?” You ask, reaching up to trace a fingertip over his cheekbone and down his jaw. “At first, I thought I had a chance, but then we were friends and... Honestly, I was sure you didn’t like anyone. I watched you reject person after person and was convinced that I’d only ever fooled myself. The other day when you joked about sharing a bed? I thought—”

Merrick frowns. “I was trying to be sly,” he murmurs, wincing when you raise an eyebrow.

“It came across as a joke, after the way I’ve seen you talk to other people.”

“I didn’t mean it like-”

“I know,” you hasten to say, slipping your arms around him and tugging at his shoulders, wanting him closer. “I know that now,” you correct, pleased when he’s nose to nose with you. “But I didn’t then. That’s why I grabbed your hat and reacted like I did. Every time you said something even remotely similar, I convinced myself that I was only hearing what I wanted to hear. I was only hearing what I thought about when you weren’t around.”

“You fantasized about me?” Merrick asks, and he sounds entirely too gleeful about that.

“...Did you fantasize about me?” You shoot back, knowing it will likely shut him up.

“Yes,” he says instead, completely surprising you. “I… I felt like I shouldn’t have, but I kept thinking about the way you talked to me and I was lonely and—It was more than once,” he blurts with a sigh, and he looks like he hates the fact that he has to tell the truth.

You just grin at him, feeling ridiculous, until Merrick shakes his head, and gets back to kissing you. Apparently he’s decided the time for talk is over. Or at least, talking about this subject is over. His kisses trail down your neck though, which you suppose means he’s decided on what he wants, and you can’t really complain.

He uses tongue and teeth as he moves down your body, hands kneading gently at your thighs, stroking with fingertips and pressing with his thumbs. He lingers at your hip for a moment, sucking kisses into the skin there that you know are going to ache later, and then his hand is on you.

He definitely remembers everything he’d learned back at your place. He knows how to stroke, how much pressure to use, how to curl his fingers just so, and your thighs are starting to tense and his mouth isn’t even on you yet.

“Merrick,” you murmur, clutching at the blankets under your hands. You want to watch him, want to see his pink tongue lick—but you’re mildly distracted by that glow of his, shimmering softly over the walls. The light is on in the room, ceiling fixture bright, but there’s movement to the light on the walls that matches the rolling of his shoulders and the arch of his back.

His mouth closes over you, tongue flicking.

“Fuck,” you say immediately, tensing when he pauses, waiting for you to relax under his touch. He doesn’t use his teeth here, that’s for sure. There’s just his tongue at first, hot and wet, and his breath, soft against your bare skin. Then Merrick sucks until his cheeks have hollowed out, fingers curling just right and you have to bite your bottom lip, using the pain of your own teeth in your flesh to try and keep yourself from thrusting your hips up into his face.

He pulls off of you with a wet pop, leaving you whimpering and can’t help the little smirk he directs your way before he speaks. “You don’t have to be gentle with me,” he tells you, smirk growing a little wider. “You’ve seen some of what we can do. You can let go,” he assures you, hand still working you over, tongue sliding over his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of you on his own skin.

“Sure,” you say shakily, and then your eyes are nearly rolling into the back of your head as his mouth closes over you again. You’re fairly certain he’s doing it just to leave you breathless, to leave you speechless. “I’ll just—just go to town,” you mutter, rolling your hips, but only just. “You could probably, uh, could just pick me-”

Merrick stops using his hand on you, hooks his arms underneath your legs and lifts your hips as he kneels on the bed. He curls his arms around you to hold you in place, legs hanging over his shoulders, and rolls his tongue over you before he starts sucking again, making soft noises that are driving you crazy.

“Oh, oh, fuck, you’re going to-” Your hands are totally tangled in the blankets now, having dragged them with you as he lifted you partially off the bed. You’re going to lose it if he keeps up with this, blood rushing towards your head, leaving your face feeling hot and your thighs shaking against his ears.

You shout as you come, trying to arch your back, to get closer to his mouth and pull away from it, all at once, but Merrick is holding you too tightly. After a moment it gets to be too much and you’re gasping, panting and reaching out to try and slap at his knee, though you can’t quite reach. “Enough,” you say once, and Merrick slows, but he doesn’t pull his mouth off of you until you wail the word. For a second you think he’ll just drop your overstimulated self back to the bed, but Merrick is more careful than that. He lowers you down, revealing his messy face and heavy lidded eyes. His cock slides over your most sensitive parts as he sets your ass in his lap and carefully takes your legs off of his shoulders. Your calves feel like they won’t hold you up for a week.

“I’m going to die,” you say, all dramatics, and then Merrick is chuckling, wiping at his lips.

“I hardly think you will,” he says, confident in his words. “But if it was too much, I have no problem ceasing while we’re ahead. Soon enough, Gar will be back and...” He licks his lips again, frowning slightly as something occurs to him. “Did I glow, like Gar said earlier?” You can’t help laughing, but that only makes you move against him, leaving the both of you making soft, shocked noises.

“Would you—would you like to find out?” You ask, breathless when he presses himself between your legs.

Merrick hesitates, nearly frowning for a moment before he settles on an easy, slightly awkward grin.

“It’s a bit of a toss up,” he explains, eyes tracing you from head to toe. He lingers on the spots he’s kissed, on the way your mouth is parted, breath still coming heavy, like it’s being drawn up from the absolute depths of your lungs. “I want to do the things that could potentially lead to me glowing.” He can’t seem to stop himself from rolling his hips, from rutting in between your thighs and leaving himself trembling at the touch. “But do I want to know if I’m actually making a fool of myself?”

“Making a fool of yourself?” You repeat, laughing. “Is that what happens when faeries glow during sex? They’re considered fools?”

“Maybe not fools,” he amends, looking a little awkward as he tucks a few stray curls behind his pointed ears. “But… Horribly transparent. You can see how much you affect me, and leaving our emotions laid bare?”

That you can understand. Granted, you don’t think you’ll ever mind the fact that he shows just how much he wants you. That he’s incapable of hiding how he feels when you touch him. You desperately want to kiss him again, to return the gesture. You might not be able to glow, but you’re fairly certain anyone looking at you can see how you feel—especially now that you’ve both laid it all out in the open.

“Come here,” you urge, crooking a single finger.

He pauses, dark eyes darting between you and himself, and you see the thought cross his mind. He could try and press inside you, he wants it, but—Merrick leans over you, arm stretching until he’s braced himself next to your shoulder, as close as he can get without being inside you. His hair falls back into his face.

“Kiss me,” you say, stroking your hands along his sides and up and over his shoulders. You have to concentrate, keep yourself from getting distracted when the pads of your fingertips catch on the wing tattoos. They have such texture, and one day you’d love to trace those lines with your tongue, if he’ll let you.

Merrick falls back into kissing you like he’s never left. Tilts his head and slots his mouth along your lips, soft at first and then his tongue finds yours, sweet and warm. He starts grinding against you, making you shudder underneath him because you’re still oversensitive. You’re not sure you have the energy in you for more than lying here, for hooking your ankles behind his back as he works himself to completion inside you, but just the thought of that has your pulse speeding again.

When he pulls away from the kiss to breathe, you reach up to try and adjust his hair, tucking the curls back once more, but you don’t actually succeed in anything other than making it look messier.

“Lube,” you remind him, when he seems plenty content to simply stare at your face, blinking slowly. He jumps at that, snatching at the pile of things he’d left on the bed when he’d stripped off his clothes and shakes his head once he has the bottle open, tilted over to spill the gel into his palm.

“So you want to witness my shame?” He asks archly, and that tone of his is all an act. You wonder how many times you fell for it, how many times he said exactly what you were thinking and you wrote it off, purely because of his tone and-

No. There’s no need to dwell on it, not now.

“I have witnessed it,” you say instead, breathing out slowly as you reach for his hand. You slide your fingers through the lube and then reach down to prep yourself, watching his face all the while.

Merrick looks gutted. He swallows, eyes intent on your hand, on your fingers, stroking and pressing into you and he snaps the lube bottle closed. He tosses it over the edge of the bed, pressing himself close again so your hand brushes against him every time your fingers move.

“At some point,” he says hoarsely, and your eyes get caught on the gel starting to drip over the edges of his hands. “I would like to watch this. Just this, but—” He glances at you, gauging your reaction and joins in. You’re shaking again, watching his face, feeling his fingers move in tandem with yours, but the feeling is a lot and eventually you let him take over. Merrick breathes out when you pull your hand away, eyes flicking up to meet yours, and licks his lips. “We’re on a bit of a deadline,” he murmurs, looking just a slight bit disappointed by that fact.

“Then hurry up,” you tease him, though it’s a little hard when he’s touching you this way. When he’s making your thighs tremble all over again. “I want you at least once before we get interrupted.” Before Gar gets back, before you have to crash for the night because you’re exhausted, before—Before you have to get up tomorrow, and possibly get back on the road to who knows where. This would be the absolute worst time for Roran to find us, crosses your mind and your heart speeds for all the wrong reasons.

“Noted,” Merrick says, breaking through your thoughts with a smug smile as he removes his fingers. The first stroke of him against you has you clenching your hands in the blankets again. Just the wet slide of his cock against you is enough: lust sweeps over you in a tidal wave, your thighs shifting like they’re trying to spread, even though they’re open already.

When he takes himself in hand though, when he finally presses into you? You lose a few moments, just enjoying the heat of him, the feeling of fullness.

Then he’s glowing.

There’s no hiding it from him this time. His eyes aren’t closed, and his face isn’t pressed into your neck, or your body, intent on bringing you pleasure first. Merrick blinks when the glow is cast on the walls. It’s not enough to blaze through the window and the closed blinds, but he sees it now, and his face turns an absolutely lovely shade of pink.

He doesn’t stop his movements, or try to stop himself from glowing. He takes a couple quick breaths and thrusts into you, gasping when you tighten around him reflexively.

Merrick doesn’t do things by halves. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t pound into you, chasing after his own pleasure, he builds it between you. It takes long enough that when you realize time has passed, you’re fairly sure that Gar must have returned, but—But Merrick’s hands are sliding over your body and his hips are pressed against the back of your thighs, and you don’t have time to think.

He whispers your name and his eyes are so heavy lidded, he looks like he could fall asleep where he is. You think the only reason his eyes are even open is to watch you, to see the look on your face every time he pulls back, only to slide back in, leaving you languid and terribly warm. You’re going to ache tomorrow.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, you see that Merrick is clenching his jaw, trying to keep the slow rhythm he’s got going, but his hips are stuttering. You tug him close, angling your legs until they’re tight against his ass and he groans, being so deep inside you.

“I want you,” you murmur. “Merrick, I-” But then he’s nearly shouting as he comes, burying his face in your shoulder as he shakes apart and you can hear the front door closing. Merrick doesn’t bother trying to quiet himself, just pants against you until he’s finished, until he can sit up on his own. The smile he directs your way is mildly embarrassed, but mostly smug, especially when his pulling out leaves your legs shaking.

“Have you decided yet?” You hear from the main room of the cabin, followed by bags being set on the small kitchen counter.

You raise your eyebrows, wondering what exactly Gar means. Merrick’s shoulders tense up a little though, and you think back to what was happening before the two of you started this much needed romp in the sheets.

“...What does he mean?” You finally ask, sitting up slowly and glancing around the room. You’re going to need to clean up, and never have you wished more that Faerie glamour or magic came with a quick spell for messes. A quick snap of your fingers or the wiggle of a nose would be quiet and unobtrusive right now.

“Give us a moment,” Merrick calls out and gets off of the bed with a sigh. “I’ll—Let me help you, first,” he says, focusing on you after a moment. “Once we’re both clean we can discuss it.”

Gar gives you both the asked for privacy. He retreats to the other empty room so you and Merrick can dart into the shower. It’s barely big enough for the both of you, but the water is hot, and the pressure isn’t horrible. Once you’re both cleaned up and clothed, all three of you find yourselves back in the main room, sitting around the small pot belly stove, a fire crackling inside of it.

“So?” You find yourself asking, when neither of them make a move to fill the silence. “What are we deciding?”

“Not we,” Gar says, lips twisting wryly. “Just Merrick.”

“What is Merrick deciding then?” You ask, exasperated with the non-answers. You know you’re going to have to deal with this regularly, now that you know what both of them are, but it’s still irksome.

“I need to decide what I should do about Roran,” Merrick finally murmurs, letting you take his hand when you reach for it. “We always have the option to end his life, but I would rather not,” he says, directing his stare straight at Gar. “I want to convince him.”

Gar stares at Merrick, resigned, like he’d never expected another answer. Maybe he hadn’t. According to Faerie standards, or maybe just Gar’s standards, Merrick is apparently easy to read. “Then you’re going to have to figure out a way to draw him in that doesn’t involve cutting my head from my shoulders. He won’t be lured in by us just standing around again either. He’s going to be eager to get us apart, to take you hostage, if need be,” Gar reminds you, with a tip of his head in your direction.

“If he finds me first-”

“I’m going to con—” Merrick starts, and then he’s knocked to the floor, with Gar straddling his prone body and holding a shaking hand over his mouth. You’re on your feet with a shout.

“Don’t make promises you’re not sure you can keep,” Gar bites out. Your heart is racing. You didn’t even see him move, he was just—there. “Don’t leave yourself open to even the possibility of lies. You know better, Merrick. You know better. Don’t let sentimentality cloud your decisions.”

“How about we calm down?” You ask, knowing you likely sound a little silly. You know they can’t lie, you know it does something to them, but it’s- You hadn’t quite realized it was all so serious. The lying.

Gar gets off of Merrick and points a finger directly at you, still staring at his friend. “You have someone else to worry about now. Someone who cares, deeply. You don’t know if you’re going to convince Roran. Try, sure. But don’t—” Gar cuts himself off, and takes a deep breath, letting it out very, very slowly.

“I’m not tired,” he says after a moment. “But you two probably are. Get some rest, I’ll stay up and keep watch.”

That, more than anything else in the last hour, feels utterly surreal. Keeping watch is something that happens in fantasy novels, out in the wilderness, waiting for bandits. You don’t keep watch in an Airbnb, in modern times, waiting to see if a lonely Fae assassin shows up on the doorstep.

“That’s a good idea,” Merrick murmurs, and lets you pull him up to his feet. He still clasps his hand on Gar’s shoulder as he passes, like he doesn’t mind in the slightest that Gar just knocked him to the ground with nary a thought. They’d been close to the fire too, and worry makes the scene play out differently in your head. If Gar had taken one more step forward- You can’t let yourself get angry or defensive about this. They’re faeries and no matter how long you’ve known them, how much they care, you don’t know everything that’s at stake.

“I’ll come back after I grab a few hours rest,” Merrick promises, and escorts you back into the bedroom you’d both claimed as your own. You want to protest, to say you can take the next watch, but even with the Sight now, you’re not sure you would even have a chance of alerting them if someone like Roran showed up. What you’d witnessed in the square, and what you’d seen just now in the main room spelled it out all too well: Human eyes simply can’t move fast enough.

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

...turn the page?

#exophilia #faerie boyfriend #fae boyfriend #faerie x reader #fairy boyfriend #male faerie x reader #d.darling writes

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sixteenthshen · 3 years

Text

i need help

I read a post on Zhihu last night - “How to evaluate the finale of Word of Honor?” The top commenter’s writing just killed me.

Heavy spoilers for episode 33/34. There’re no spoilers for the episodes after that, but I can’t guarantee this if there are replies.

The rest hidden behind a cut.

I don’t need help explaining the finale or the happy ending, bad ending whatever it is, I’ve found my own way to come to terms with it. But I can’t accept what happened in 33/34 and the lack of follow up on the core of the issue, and that’s blocking me from enjoying the “HE”. To be fair, I think I may be a bit hormonal? Because this is really making me feel like crap.

-----

This is a comment made by a Chinese user on Zhihu:

I only want to say; the show might as well have ended when A-Xu jumped down the cliff after WKX. Even though it's a bit lame, at least the soulmate feelings were still there.

The grand finale basically destroyed the soulmate bond built up over 20+ episodes. The essence of it is gone; all of the "candy" and "knives" feel like they've been stripped away.

I've written so much about WKX & ZZS and how they were both falling for each other, saving each other. And now it all looks like a big joke.

It turns out ZZS's soulmate is ZZH, not WKX. The mountains and rivers in the world can't compare to meeting my soulmate. Since my soulmate is gone, I might as well die. (Play on the quote from the drama, instead of why should I live, it becomes I should just die)

(The poster starts talking to ZZS directly - referring to him as you) You're really a mistreated (tortured?) concubine, aren't you? Once you decide to give your whole heart, whole person away, you somehow always end up meeting some fake evil bastard (reference to Farewell my Concubine, basically that ZZS always ends up being suckered)

When you first fell into Prince Jin's trap, it's because you were young and not yet wise to the ways of the world, and believed in the grand words of your cousin and got conned into the world of politics. Sinking into the dirtiest, muddiest of marshes.

You plotted tirelessly for 18 months, suffered through 18 months of pain from the 7 nails, and finally exchanged it for 3 years of freedom. But when you met WKX, you fell right back in again.

Heraclitus said, "You cannot step into the same river twice" <<(I think this person mixed up the meaning of this quote, cause it doesn't fit, but basically intends to say people shouldn't make the same mistake twice)

The first time you stepped into the river, you got away with only half your life. The next time you stepped into the river, you nearly lost your life 4x (under YBY's sword, when you jumped off the cliff to your death for love, pulling out your nails, exploding the mountain to cause an avalanche + suicide), in the end you became a living dead person on Changming mountain.

I don't know if I should call you a living dead man, anyway, in my heart, once you pulled out the nails from your body, cutting off any other alternative you had just to help WKX take revenge… while WKX came back from the dead, and worked with everyone present at the scene to give the performance of a lifetime, you were already dead.

What a mockery, a farce.

You gave up everything but in the end, you were nothing more than a spectator.

He wanted you to give him face, to let him go home to explain things. You quietly stepped aside and gave him the stage. He wanted your baiyi sword to demonstrate his family's sword technique, to prove his identity. You gave it to him without a second word. He cut Zhao Jing's arms and legs tendons, crippled his martial arts, finally took revenge. You were happy for him despite everything.

When Mo Huaiyang accused him of being the Ghost Valley Master, he openly admitted to it and said the entire first part was just an act. You stood in front of him, to protect him. Said he is your shidi, and stood with him without any reservations.

But he had secretly already reached an agreement with Ye Baiyi. He knew YBY wouldn't hurt him, but you didn't know and yet you still shielded him. So terribly afraid that YBY would hurt him because of his identity.

Everyone knew this was part of the scheme he laid out, everyone participated in his scheme. Only you didn't know. Only you foolishly believed that he wouldn't be alright without you, that he needed you to help him take revenge. That he had his difficulties so he couldn't confess the truth to you, as long as he did, then you would be the first to know everything. That he was your soulmate. This word "soulmate", if said enough times, it would even be real. In this life, right up until the end, we can't even fully understand ourselves, how do we talk about others?

-----

the source is the top voted answer here. I like this poster a lot, she shared some great things throughout the course of the drama, 3 of which were the base of poems-related posts I’ve made here. I was doing fine before, but in the course of translating this answer for a friend, I made myself feel worse.

She later forced herself to look at it from WKX’s perspective and wrote a piece on it as well, but it... was very forced and I’m not too sure she even believed it herself. She ended that part with - “this made her feel very keenly that no matter how similar two souls may be, in the end, they are still two souls. He isn’t you and he will never be you. You can work endlessly and tirelessly to be closer, but your souls can never meet.”

I... I’m too sad to translate the WKX part in order to be fair to WKX in this post (if I feel better about it, i will later? but it didn’t make me feel better at all tbh)

Can someone who can articulate well and believe that what WKX did was right, please help to make me understand episodes 32-34 from his perspective?

My main issues are:

We never got a proper 1-to-1 discussion between WKX and ZZS over the issue. At first, they were celebrating as a group, I can accept it. There wasn’t a time or place.

But when ZZS went back to his room early and sober, when everyone else was still drinking and having fun, I felt so bad for him.

When WKX came into his room, looking for ZZS when drunk, I know it isn’t supposed to be like this - but I can’t help but feel he didn’t dare to talk to A-Xu 1-to-1. Instead he went when he was drunk to spill his heart. It can be thought of as sweet, because the first person he thinks of when he’s drunk is A-Xu... but I can’t help but find it very selfish, because it leaves A-Xu with no way to talk about things. If you’ve ever talked to a drunk while sober, you would understand what I mean, it’s a one-way conversation, you can’t get anything through.

But that conversation left A-Xu with enough guilt that he can’t come clean to WKX about what he did. How can he tell WKX that he pulled out his nails, and is about to die. To take away WKX’s happiness, when Lao Wen just told him about how happy he was to have him in his life?

Lao Wen had 0 intention to be cruel, but it ended up being more cruel. And this lack of a proper discussion between the two of them, makes me call into question the whole thing about soulmates. I believe Lao Wen loves A-Xu the best he can (with his somewhat emotionally stunted self), but he’s not putting himself in the other person’s shoes to care for them.

Love =/= care. And by not caring enough in this matter, I feel it’s thrown him into OOC. Where is the WKX who cared so much for ZZS at the start? Where is the tenderness?

The drama never properly addressed why WKX faked his death and not tell A-Xu. The only reason they gave was that A-Xu was heavily injured (through Wu Xi). WKX just admitted he was wrong (and should drink). That’s all.

Thankssss.

Please don’t preach to me about the happy ending or talk about the finale. I personally can’t resolve 32-34, I have found a way to accept the ending as long as I can accept these 3 episodes.

I may not be able to immediately accept your POV but I will force myself to try to find something that fits. I want to keep shipping wenzhou :(

#i'm not even checking my own grammar cause this is making me too emo #WKX fans and stans #please help #i added a sad gif of a-xu #because he's sad

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beautifulterriblequeen · 3 years

Note

I keep thinking about Silmarillion, and I was wondering : what do you think of Fëanor ?

I don’t know exactly how it should be seen...

Ooh, Fëanor. Gosh, okay, let me change the channel in my brain.

Fëanor is, at heart, a Capitalist Inventor. He's Dark Tony Stark. He creates endless things for the world to use, but what truly drives him is the bone-deep belief that he and his chosen ones deserve his most prized possessions more than anyone else. And he's willing to kill anyone on both sides to get them back. He swears an oath to fight until he gets what he wants, and thus seals the doom of untold thousands he'll never even meet.

That's an antagonist. Which is not the same thing as a villain. But Fëanor is very much an experience to be survived - or not - rather than any kind of ally. Much of what he does in the Silmarillion is imbalanced, driven by emotions he doesn't seem willing or able to control. And because he's an elf among elves, and they all live a very very long time, the effects of his choices carry forward for thousands of years. This one dude got a lot of people killed, directly and indirectly, including his whole family. For an elf was supposed to love the stars, he wasn't very stellar. Our Man in Valinor was way more into fire.

The part that bothers me about his character - and this is a modern take looking back at JRR Tolkien and his world in the last millennium - is that Fëanor is born this way. He is flawed from birth, and he's just Like That, forever. No chance to change, no encouragement to be different, to be softer, to be better, to corral his spirit of fire into something more light than heat. He's just dangerous chaos from start to finish. He comes into the world sucking his mother's spirit dry so she dies, he lives his life disagreeing with everyone around him except his sons, and he goes out encouraging those sons to hold to their unholy oath to retrieve the Silmarils or die trying. Which they do - the "die trying" part, anyway.

He's a piece of work.

He was also a brilliant, god-tier craftsman. I guess that's what happens when you study under the Vala Aulë himself, who literally shaped the physical world into existence.

He created the Silmarils, capturing the combined light of the Two Trees into three brilliant gemstones in a way no one ever did before or since.

He crafted the palantíri, which not even Sauron could replicate later.

He invented Tengwar script, which is the swirly elven writing we all associate with Middle-Earth.

He crafted the mysterious Feanorian lamps, which are crystals that emit blue light and cannot be doused.

He was constantly thinking up new ideas and crafting them. Eru only knows what he made that has been lost. You'll notice none of these things he made are swords. Yet he led an attack against the Teleri on his way out of Valinor, and the Teleri defended themselves, so I kind of assume he was also a weaponsmith, trying out new ideas in metal form if nothing else.

Brilliant and misguided, a flawed juggernaut, destined to drag the entire world and countless lives off course. The earlier these characters show up in the timeline, the more destructive chaos they end up causing.

I do not like Fëanor. He's a White Guy, doing as he pleases with no thought for the consequences, to himself, to those of his family he actually likes, or to anyone else. He holds enough privilege and power that people keep following him into disaster, and then he just goes and does it again, without learning a damn thing from his imbalanced approach. He even dies thinking he did nothing wrong ever in his life. Like... Bitch.

Having power is no guarantee that you deserve power, and Fëanor is a prime example of why.

This has nothing to do with the objects he made. Those are just tools, free to be taken and used for good or evil, as the palantíri were, and as every message ever written in Tengwar was. Would the world have been better off without the Silmarils at all, or the palantíri? Would a different language script have somehow altered the world for the better? Since it's fiction, we could just decide that Yes, Yes It Would, or No Actually Not.

What's not fictional is my distaste for presumptuous assholes with a bit of power but no self-awareness, because I've already met too many of them who weren't fictional, either.

You want my unvarnished opinion of Fëanor? He's a billionaire. And I'm glad he got eaten. It wasn't nearly soon enough.

Eat your billionaires before they get all crusty, kids. They taste best fresh and plump. Nom nom.

Still here? Oh, then it's time to compare Fëanor to TDP! Because as much as I despise him, he makes for excellent storytelling angst and conflict, and vicarious conflict is how we learn to avoid it in our real lives - if we're paying attention.

I've said before that I'd like to see some kind of Oath of Fëanor effect in TDP. The absolute horror at seeing good characters get yoinked into bad deeds just because they promised? Ahahaha, horrible, thank you, I'll have some more. If the Moonshadow assassins have something like that behind those creepy binding ribbons, I'm gonna be cackling in between my tears, fam.

But Fëanor himself? Oh, do you see, that's Aaravos! He's even got that craftsman side, since he made the relic staff, and boy is it swirly.

(Does that make Ethari a Celebrimbor type, separating himself from the dark deeds of his forebears yet still massively talented, creating amazing magical devices?)

Aaravos is the main villain of TDP, as far as we've been told. He's crafty, in both senses of the word. Did he have some angsty complex family life with half-siblings and a mother who died because she birthed him? Maybe. Stars can be born from the detritus of other stars that exploded and died, so there's a sciencey metaphor there already.

Of interest: Fëanor had seven sons, and the world of TDP has seven kinds of magic. Aaravos created at least one of them. Did he create primal magics too, from the deep magic that came before? Might there be some kind of oath involved there, with the first elves to wield differentiated magic?

How about those primal stones that look like palantíri? How many of those did Aaravos craft? Can he use one from his library to spy on people who have them or something? That would mean he could already know a ton about Viren even before he came to the Storm Spire and stole the mirror. Woah.

What about a Silmaril equivalent? Are there especially glorious magical gemstones in Xadia? Did Aaravos wear them in his crown and now he's mister Grumpy Glam without them?

Did he create the original runes that diverged into all the elven languages? With his sloppy handwriting? Heh, the other elves must've been very patient.

You know... Aaravos has been called a Promethean figure, gifting humans with knowledge and skill they didn't have. But that gift was the gift of fire. A tool. A tool employed by craftsmen.

Fëanor literally means "Spirit of Fire."

In the end, Fëanor was consumed by his own spirit. He never learned to vibe with it, and it destroyed him and many others. Sounds a lot like dark magic.

Maybe the real Oath of Fëanor in TDP is one you have to speak backwards.

#asks #Fëanor #tdp #tdp speculation #silm #oath of feanor #just fantasy things #aaravos

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huayno · 3 years

Photo

from neon genesis evangelion, vol. 12

The Mysterious Stranger

The Anime, the Manga, and the Mark Twain Novella

"God will provide for this kitten." "What makes you think so?" Ursula's eyes snapped with anger. "Because I know it!" she said. "Not a sparrow falls to the ground without His seeing it." "But it falls, just the same. What good is seeing it fall?"

—from The Mysterious Stranger

There is a short novel by Mark Twain, written near the end of his life and published posthumously, entitled The Mysterious Stranger. The tale is set in a small village in 16th century Austria, where three boys one day meet a young man different from themselves: "he had new and good clothes on, and was handsome and had a winning face and a pleasant voice, and was easy and graceful and unembarrassed, not slouchy and awkward and diffident, like other boys."

The mysterious stranger starts to do small but amazing tricks for them—causing water to turn to ice; conjuring grapes and bread out of air; even making birds that can fly out of clay. At last one boy, the story's narrator, works up the courage to ask the stranger who he is:

"'An angel,' he said, quite simply, and set another bird free and clapped his hands and made it flyaway."

The angel then proceeds to really impress them by making an entire toy castle, complete with five hundred miniature soldiers and workmen that move around by themselves. Naturally the boys get involved with this ultimate playset, making their own knights and cannon and cavalry, and although they get rather nervous again when the angel reveals his name is Satan, he assures them he is not that Satan, but only named after the fallen one.

"We others are still ignorant of sin; we are not able to commit it; we are without blemish, and we shall abide in that estate always." Distracted by two of the miniature workmen, "Satan reached out his hand and crushed the life out of them with his fingers... and went on talking where he had left off: 'We cannot do wrong; neither have we any disposition to do it, for we do not know what it is." Horrified as the other boys are, "he made us drunk with the joy of being with him and of looking into the heaven of his eyes, and of feeling the ecstasy that thrilled along our veins from the touch of his hand.'"

Yes, Kaworu Nagisa made quite an impression on the fans of Neon Genesis Evange/ion, despite the fact that, in the original broadcast version of the TV show (before it got all director's-cutted, box-setted, special-editioned, and platinum-lined) he shows up for only slightly less than thirteen minutes of total screen time, the climax of which being an entire minute where nothing happens at all.

That's what being a beautiful angel will do for you, especially when you make the most of your thirteen minutes on Earth by having a Whirlwind romance with the main character that ends in a lover's quarrel with Prog Knives and finally a voluntary martyrdom at the hand of your boy here. Relationships don't come any more tragic than that of Kaworu Nagisa and Shinji Ikari, and when fans (including this one) first saw it on TV, the affair was so brief and shocking the story logic of it didn't click in until much later.

In the anime, Kaworu is acknowledged as the Final Messenger, and, of all the Angels Shinji has to fight, this is the most ruthless battle, won at the highest possible cost to himself. It took even longer for me to realize that the showdown in episode 24 had also taken us full circle from Shinji's first fight in episodes 1 and 2, which emphasized his personal helplessness against the looming Angel Sachiel. Against Kaworu, it is the Angel who becomes the small, helpless figure, while Shinji is represented only by the gargantuan, frightful helm and arm of his Eva Unit-O1. We never see Shinji's human face once throughout the whole final minute of decision.

So as Col. Trautman would have said instead of Major Katsuragi, "It's over, Shinji! IT'S OVER!" Kaworu v. Shinji (or Kaworu x Shinji, in the doujinshi) was the big final showdown between humanity and the Angels. And with the outcome leaving Shinji at his most wretched ever, wouldn't it be nice if everyone just died—your wish being Eva's command, as it turns out that fortunately humanity hardly ever needed the Angels to slaughter itself.

"I am perishing already—I am failing—I am passing away. In a little while you will be alone in shoreless space, to wander its limitless solitudes without friend or comrade forever...But I, your poor servant, have revealed you to yourself and set you free. Dream other dreams, and better!"

—from The Mysterious Stranger

Satan's words near the end of Mark Twain's story also uncannily prefigure the end of the world and the Instrumentality project, both of which follow his death in the TV show in such quick order you picture Anno as a hairnetted fry cook dinging the counter bell. By now you see Sadamoto's handling of Kaworu, and perhaps nothing illustrates the different experiences of the manga and the anime better than his handling of this critical character.

No longer the last Angel to be fought, Kaworu actually becomes an active Eva pilot and fights an Angel—the dude even has the nerve to observe the fight is fixed, based on his knowledge of SEELE's prophecies. Sadamoto of course introduces him at an earlier point in the narrative—at the equivalent of episode 19's end—and then sends him to NERV near the equivalent of episode 22's beginning—before certain important events, to put it mildly, can occur. When one notes this kind of thing, of course, it's important to restate that the Evangelion manga has always been a separate but equal "official" version of Eva, with no particular obligation to align itself with the anime, and indeed it was with Book Five, the first released after The End of Evangelion, that Sadamoto began to truly seem free to go in his own direction.

Nevertheless, as the "other" official version of the Eva story, it is reasonable for fans to view it as an "alternate history" relative to the anime, and the way Kaworu has been introduced makes us realize the manga may end very differently indeed. Despite the fact we know here that Kaworu is an Angel from the very beginning, he appears destined to at least hang around long enough to pick up a few paychecks. It's not clear when your health benefits kick in at NERV, although if Ritsuko is your primary caregiver it might be best to forego them.

Sadamoto's remarks upon visiting the U.S. in 2003 indicated that the Eva manga might (might) be planned as a twelve-volume series in all. There is still plenty of room for speculation, as the slow working pace to which the artist himself often refers has of late become almost relativistic—as of this writing, it has been eight months since Sadamoto has drawn a new installment of Eva in Japan, and hence a Volume Ten is nowhere in sight. It may be small comfort, but those of you reading this are pretty much in the same drifting boat as the Japanese fans.

"An angel's love is sublime, adorable, divine, beyond the imagination of man—infinitely beyond it! But it is limited to his own august order. If it fell upon one of your race for only an instant, it would consume its object to ashes. No, we cannot love men but we can be harmlessly indifferent to them; we can also like them, sometimes."

—from The Mysterious Stranger

And with Book Nine we see the most staggering difference thus far between the manga and the anime; Sadamoto's Shinji doesn't even like Kaworu, much less love him. Of course, you could say the less-ethereal Kaworu of the manga is harder to love. I can't believe Sadamoto had him tell Rei he thought she'd be "heftier." And yet he did.

I don't think any A.T. Fields actually got penetrated in the anime; while I do think Shinji felt sexually attracted to Kaworu, and that you the audience are supposed to feel that he felt it, what Kaworu himself thought was a very different matter. Like Rei, I believe Kaworu to be innocent—coyly, he appears not to be so, because while Rei needed to be reached out to, Kaworu has come to reach out; whereas Rei has spent her existence being observed; Kaworu has come to observe.

Indeed, in the manga, Shinji's irritation about Kaworu's invasion of his personal space seems almost a parody of his attitude in the anime. In the TV show, when Kaworu put his hand on Shinji's, he flinched but did not pull away; whereas in the manga it's easy to imagine Shinji slugging him. Instead he goes to run after Rei, hoping to get closer to her again.

I hardly think the change reflects any phobia on Sadamoto's part (after all, we even get to see Shinji's "Unit One" in the manga), but the fact the manga Shinji is less emotionally bleak and empty, and hence less vulnerable. Shinji's just as negative in the manga, of course, but it's an active variety, rather than the passive negative creep (in the best Nirvana song sense) we know from the anime. We don't have to imagine him slugging Gendo; from the look of surprise on Dad's face in Book Seven he would have smacked the beard off his face if Kaji hadn't stopped him.

Neither is Shinji in a positive emotional situation where we leave him here, either; indeed at this point in the manga there's arguably no one he can turn to—the more brutal fate that befell Toji has cut him off from his school friends, Rei has become hesitant, Kaji is dead, and his perennial self-esteem booster Asuka is going to need to rebuild her internal supply before she can even get back to calling him a loser and idiot.

So, like Misato trying to put her own hand on Shinji's, all I can do for now while we wait for Sadamoto-sensei is to recommend for your winter vacation reading list The Mysterious Stranger, which I can almost guarantee will give you new angles to think about Kaworu, and may even earn you class credit besides. A quick look at the novel's comments on Amazon list a teacher who says fundamentalist students walked out of his class when he taught it; another compares it to The Matrix; those who dislike it call it "sick," "bitter," and "twisted." Sounds like good old Evangelion to me!

—Carl Gustav Horn

[a drawing of Kaworu holding a kitten]

Although The Mysterious Stranger can also be found in a number of print editions, including The Portable Mark Twain from Penguin (haw haw), the story, being from the days when mp3s came on shellacked cylinders, is legally available online at http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/toc/modeng/public/TwaMyst.html. The same site has a book called The Holy Bible, King James Version, which fans of Evangelion might also enjoy, although it's technically "Editor's Choice."

#eva #kaworu nagisa #idec if twain didn't write that shit #i'm all over this

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qitwrites · 3 years

Text

a numbers game

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Kiribaku

(AO3)

Bakugou knows his personality and general rage-filled disposition towards everything, in general, isn’t winning him any favours, but the texts have made him contemplate just how shitty he must’ve been in a past life to deserve a fate like this.

Because no one - and Bakugou knows such assholes as Monoma - but no one deserves to be on the receiving end of unsolicited dick pics. From random numbers. At all times of the day. For the last 3ish months.

“I am going to throw my phone out the fucking window, I swear on all that is good and pure, fucking bull-“

“More dick pics?” Camie interrupts with a wide grin, plucking the phone out of Bakugou’s hand.

“What the fuck else?” Bakugou snaps, trying to pull his phone back in vain. Camie holds it just out of reach, eyeing the disgusting penis with a critical stare.

"Hmm,” she says, passing the phone back to him before taking a sip of her terrible grass juice that smells like a badly mowed golf course, “the lighting is bad and he hasn’t done like, any grooming at all. 3/10.”

“You’re being generous,” Bakugou huffs, deleting the picture immediately and swallowing the still raging urge to fling his phone at the nearest wall. “It’s unsolicited. And his fingernails are fucking filthy. -100/10.”

Camie rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic again Kitkat.”

Bakugou counts to 10 in his head, tries to find that last shred of patience he knows is somewhere deep in his dark pit of a soul and breathes out in a rush.

“I need to fucking figure this out before I actually lose it and track down one of these fuckers and choke the life out of them.”

Because here’s the thing- Bakugou has been receiving dick pics and dirty text messages like hi bby want sex? and imma dick you down gud boo – he’s positively swooning, what a lovely way to be wooed – and he has no idea how to stop it. Yes, he could cancel his number and get a new one, but all of his bank details are linked to this one. He’s had it since he first got a phone in middle school, and now all of his documents are attached to the damn thing. The very idea of going to the banks and the DMV and every other stupid establishment to get it changed makes him grimace hard enough that he decides to bear with it.

Except, every time he receives one of these horrible pictures, his urge to blow up the phone, nay, the entire world, simmers at dangerous levels.

“Cool it kitkat,” Camie croons, giving his forearm a squeeze, “you’re making your homicidal face. That cannot be good for wrinkles.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Bakugou grunts, flinging his phone away carelessly and watching it skitter around on the kitchen counter before halting dangerously close to the edge. “I just want it to stop.”

Camie puts her atrocity for a drink down and pulls the fridge open, rummaging around as she says, “I have a theory about all this.” She pulls out a jar of jalapenos and places it in front of Bakugou. The blonde yanks a fork out of the admittedly cute utensil bucket in the middle of their counter before snapping the lid off and spearing a good 3 pieces in one go. He chews on them slowly and directs a raised brow at Camie.

“Well,” she muses, picking her drink back up, “as a woman that receives a LOT of numbers from guys and gals and non-binary folks alike-“ Bakugou makes it a point to roll his eyes hard enough to knock his head back; Camie’s laughter is loud and boisterous “- I have a tactic for when I don’t know how to say no and don’t want to give my digits.”

Bakugou has another forkful of jalapenos in his mouth when he narrows his eyes at her.

Camie shrugs, “I usually change the very last digit of my number. Works like a charm. I never meet the person again, and they can’t contact me. Win-win.”

“Win-win my ass,” Bakugou seethes. “Do I look like I’m winning right now? I am this fucking close to killing someone, because of stupid tactics like yours.”

Camie finishes the last of her drink, and speaks around her straw, “You say that, but do you know how many people, and especially dudes, don’t take no for an answer? The only reason I give out any digits at all is when I can’t guarantee my safety. I know it’s not like, the perfect solution or anything, but I’m giving you facts right now.”

And Bakugou does, in fact, know that. He’s met those pushy assholes- people that don’t back down, people that don’t take no at face value, people that push and prod and get up in his space. It pisses him off to absolutely no end.

“Whatever,” he concedes. He spears another forkful of jalapenos before grumbling, “So, what the fuck do I do?”

Camie grins, minx like. “Why don’t you text the number one ahead and one behind your own and ask? I mean, in the best-case scenario you figure it out and get it all to stop, in the worst case, you get to yell at like random people. Isn’t that your second favourite pastime, right after yelling at that pigeon outside our balcony, the one with an agenda?”

“Don’t talk about that fucking pigeon,” Bakugou fumes, “fucking piece of shit bird and those dark, robotic eyes. Something is up with that; you can’t convince me otherwise.” He mulls over the rest of her suggestion before relenting, “Well, I guess I could spare a moment to yell at the fucking extras giving out my number to perverts with no manners and gross penises.”

“I find it so funny when you say the word manners,” Camie says as she walks to her room, “It’s almost like you know what it means!”

She isn’t even looking at him, but she manages to dodge the jalapeno that sails at her head. It hits the wall with a sick squelch, and when Bakugou hears Camie’s door shut, he drops his head on the counter with a loud, resounding thunk and muffles a scream into the marble.

He forgets to send out those texts, and when he receives yet another picture, not three days later, of someone holding their disgusting penis in their hand, like it’s an accomplishment or some shit, he sends out a text message to two different numbers typed with shaky, sweaty fingers.

>> xxx-xxx-xxx6 , xxx-xxx-xxx4

I don’t know who the fuck you are, and you don’t know me, but it’s possible that one of you assholes gives out my number to random people who, in turn, send me fucking dick pics. It’s been over 3 fucking months, so knock it the actual fuck off. And in case it isn’t you, fuck you anyway.

Bakugou wakes up from a restless sleep to sunlight sloping in through the blinds of his room, a dry mouth, and three new text messages from an unknown number.

Because his brain takes time to boot up in the mornings, he foregoes the phone entirely and makes his way to the kitchen in search of caffeine. Camie is always up before him, and he gratefully pours himself a mug of her insanely strong black coffee, the kind to palpitate your heart and make you vibrate in your seat. She calls it jet fuel, Inasa calls it death, Todoroki just blinks.

When he’s half a mug down, he finally retrieves his phone from his room and takes a seat in the balcony, surrounded by plants of all kinds. The sun is bright but not harsh, and he takes a second to enjoy it before opening his messages.

He doesn’t even recall sending the messages last night, and for a moment he’s enraged at the idea that someone sent him even more dick pics, but there’s no photos waiting for him, just three messages.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 omg omg OMG I didn’t think anyone actually used this number im sorry D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 no really im so so sorry holy shit I was just following this idea that my friend gave me cause im terrible at turning people down but I didn’t realize they were messaging an actual other person OMG

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ofc I wont be giving your number out anymore im just so sorry bro, god, this is so damn UNMANLY of me

At least the person has the decency to sound apologetic. Not that it tempers Bakugou in any way, shape or form, but he takes note of it somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind.

Bakugou you better not give it out anymore fuckmunch. I should sue your ass for putting me under so much psychological distress.

The guy replies startlingly quickly. Bakugou opens the message with a quirked brow.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 shit can you actually do that?

Bakugou has no idea, but the key to selling anything is confidence, and he’s got enough to spare.

Bakugou try me

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM REALLY REALLY SORRY OK TRULY D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and not just cuz you might sue me or anything, it was a terrible move on my part :’(

xxx-xxx-xxx4 can I make it up to you somehow??

Bakugou huffs, deflating a little. He’s angry yes, positively incensed for the most part, but the guy sounds genuinely sorry, and he’s finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at someone that’s just being so damn decent and taking full responsibility.

Bakugou I don’t fucking know.

Bakugou just stop giving out my no.

Bakugou I swear to god if I get ONE MORE NUDE

Bakugou I will find you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you don’t have to find me ill come to you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 cuz ill def deserve it at that point

xxx-xxx-xxx4 anyway, im sorry again. really ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get some sleep, so tell me later about how I can make it up to you!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 goodnight

Bakugou checks the clock at the top left corner of his phone screen. It reads 8:31am.

What the fuck does this guy do for work anyway? And does Bakugou care?

He decides no, he doesn’t, because he’s really too busy to care about anything, especially assholes that hand out his number to horny strangers because they’re too chickenshit to say no.

He nods at his own conclusion, downs the rest of his death-in-a-cup, and walks back inside, ready to start another long day of work. Bakugou gives himself an hour before he puts this all behind him, fully forgotten and finally taken care of.

Why the fuck haven’t I blocked this fucker yet, is the first thing Bakugou thinks when he gets more texts from them.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 heyyo!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 did you think of anything????? How can I make it up to you??

Bakugou stop texting me, that’ll be a great start

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I will as soon as u tell me how to make it up to you!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I was being so unmanly and cowardly, I need to fix it!!

Bakugou good for fucking you, leave me alone

xxx-xxx-xxx4 y don’t you keep thinking abt it and lemme know !!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 if it helps, I can hook u up with some free drinks!! I co-own and bartend at a place downtown!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just think abt it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get back to work, talk soon!

Bakugou stop texting me dammit

Bakugou isn’t a naïve person, but he somehow convinces himself that this will be the end of things.

It is, predictably, not the end of things.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I just realized I didn’t give u my name

xxx-xxx-xxx4 Kirishima eijirou!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and you are?

Bakugou blocking you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 aww come on man, don’t be like tht ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 wait, r u a man?????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE AT LEAST TELL ME THAT I DON’T WANT TO MISGENDER U OMG

Bakugou can you calm the fuck down holy shit

Bakugou yes I’m a dude, you’re fucking fine dumbass

xxx-xxx-xxx4 oh phew!!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ok my dude

xxx-xxx-xxx4 please come down to the bar??????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 do you actually drink though?? If you don’t we still have great mocktails

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and I can whip up some awesome protein shakes

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ohhh and our food is bomb,,, I promise

Bakugou do you ever just stop talking

xxx-xxx-xxx4 NOPE :D

Bakugou Not a compliment

xxx-xxx-xxx4 what can I say

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im an opportunist

Bakugou you’re telling me

Bakugou fucker

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM STILL SO SORRY

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE COME TO THE BAR LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU

xxx-xxx-xxx4 actions speak hella louder than words

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I must action you

Bakugou what the fuck

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you get what I mean!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 <location> this is the place

xxx-xxx-xxx4 its name is RIOT, u cant miss it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just lemme know when u can make it

Bakugou I haven’t agreed to shit asshole

Bakugou stop assuming things

xxx-xxx-xxx4 free food, free drinks, free live performance of whatever band’s performing

Bakugou …………………

Bakugou I’ll think about it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 HELL YEAH

xxx-xxx-xxx4 whats your name btw?

Bakugou like id tell you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I need it for the reservation!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so that I don’t accidentally serve the wrong gentleman all your free perks

Bakugou didn’t say im coming yet

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im super optimistic

Bakugou I can tell, you’re giving me a headache

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so………… name?

Bakugou no

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I’ll get it out of you eventually

Bakugou try me

Bakugou fucker

If Bakugou finds himself smiling at the end of the exchange, well, that’s his business.

“So, you finally figured out who was responsible for the penis pictures?” Todoroki deadpans around his cosmo.

“That’s wonderful Bakugou!” Inasa booms, slamming his beer down on the counter with gusto. Bakugou throws a spoon at him.

“Shut it Baldy,” he grunts, going back to chopping veggies. “And yes, I did, but now this fucker won’t stop texting me, insisting on making it up to me or some shit.”

“And this is a bad thing?” Todoroki summarizes slowly. Bakugou turns around in time to see him mouth why to Inasa before taking another generous sip of his drink. Inasa shrugs his stupidly large shoulders before asking, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Bakugou throws another spoon at him. “Because, I texted them so I could stop people from texting me. Now this person’s volunteering information to me about being a bartender and shit and constantly apologizing and it’s fucking annoying.”

“You know what’s interesting?” Camie muses, stirring her bloody mary with a long ass celery stick. “You’re getting all these text messages from this bartender, and you can like, so easily block this one number and be done with it, but you like, keeping responding. And keep, you know, not blocking.”

He can’t see it, but he knows Todoroki is nodding, the fucker.

“That is a good observation!” Inasa booms again, and Bakugou has to resist the urge to fling his entire cutlery set at the man’s thick skull. “Do you like this person Bakugou?”

“What’s there to like, I don’t even fucking know him!”

“Well,” Camie starts, takes a bite out of the celery stick, continues, “he’s well-mannered. Clearly good looking, because you got a LOT of penis pictures these past three months, and that also leads us to believe the business is doing really well, if so many patrons come in begging for a number. All good things, don’t you think?”

“I hate you,” Bakugou says, stirring the curry with barely repressed rage. “I hate all of you. I hate humanity. Fuck people.”

“Or fuck this person in specific,” Camie says gleefully. “You haven’t gotten laid in like 8 months boo, you need to get some.”

“You’re the actual fucking worst.”

“In all seriousness,” Todoroki interrupts, putting his empty glass down delicately, “why haven’t you blocked the number? It seems like an easy enough solution.” The asshole has the audacity to sound genuinely curious, if not slightly amused.

Bakugou hates everything.

“I don’t, I don’t fucking know, ok?” He finally admits through clenched teeth. The blonde kills the heat and places the curry on the counter while Camie brings out the rice and some pickled vegetables from the fridge. She pulls out a beer and twists the cap off before handing it to Bakugou, who snatches it away and takes a quick swig before continuing, “He’s actually kinda nice to me, I guess. And I like watching him be so sorry about all those penises. I may have also mentioned suing him for psychological distress.” Bakugou catches Todoroki’s gaze. “Can I do that?”

Todoroki hums, “You can try, but I don’t think you’ve got that solid a case. Plus, haven’t you deleted virtually all the evidence?”

Bakugou grips the neck of his beer bottle harder. “I fucking hate everything.”

bartender asshole <image attached>

Bakugou what the fuck

Bakugou why are you sending me cat pics?

Bakugou also that cat is stupidly cute

bartender asshole I know right?????

bartender asshole her name is ruby

bartender asshole and id die for her

bartender asshole i just figured ud be a cat person

Bakugou ………….

Bakugou I hate u

bartender asshole :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou Bakugou Katsuki

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

bartender asshole HI BAKUGOU SO NICE TO KNOW UR NAME

Bakugou I hate everything

bartender asshole except ruby. Its not allowed

Bakugou …………………………………

Bakugou except ruby

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

Kirishima, it turns out, is a ray of fucking sunshine. Bakugou has a distinct feeling that looking at him directly would be a blinding experience.

Not that he knows who to look for though; he has no idea what this guy looks like. He guesses that he’s buff, with all the times he tells Bakugou about the gym showers running out of hot water and beating his best weights doing bench presses, but he knows nothing else.

He does know that he’s sweet as fuck, making it impossible for Bakugou to stay mad at him. He doesn’t blink at Bakugou’s cussing, and he sends him cute pictures of Ruby.

There is a part of him, small but steadily growing, that wants to meet this stupidly nice bartender.

Bakugou hates everything.

dumbass bartender so what do you do???

Bakugou front-end development and web design

dumbass bartender oh damn!!!

dumbass bartender so youre like smart smart

Bakugou obviously

dumbass bartender have I seen your work anywhere??

Bakugou I recently redid the website of that protein powder company you don’t shut up about

dumbass bartender ????????????????????

dumbass bartender that’s amazing!!!!!!!!!

dumbass bartender I just revisited the website, it looks so cool

Bakugou duh

Bakugou im the best

dumbass bartender I don’t doubt that!!! :D :D

Bakugou don’t you have work?

dumbass bartender aww bakubro are you looking out for me <3 <3

Bakugou call me that again and I will fucking end you

dumbass bartender before the free drinks??? That you are yet to redeem? ?? at my wonderful establishment?????????? :D :D :D

Bakugou I hate everything.

dumbass bartender D:

Bakugou except RUBY DAMMIT

dumbass bartender :D

“Just to recap,” Kaminari says with an incredulous look in his eyes, “this guy cusses like a sailor, is constantly insulting you, never initiates conversation, and you still like him?”

Kirishima’s answering grin is bashful. “I mean, when you put it like that it sounds not so great, but he’s really not that bad! He’s super funny and confident, and he LOVES Ruby. Plus, I don’t like him like that, I just think he’s cool.” Kirishima picks up another glass from the washer and starts carefully drying it with his dishcloth before saying, “And, you know, I did put him through a lot by giving out his number. His behaviour is kinda warranted if you ask me.”

“I mean, in the beginning maybe, but haven’t you guys been texting for over a week now?”

“Denki, are you forgetting that giving out another number was your idea?” Kirishima mutters, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

Kaminari suddenly seems to find the glass in his hand a lot more interesting. Kirishima’s laugh echoes around the empty bar.

‘What’s so funny?” Ashido muses, bringing a crate of bottled beer behind the counter.

“Kirishima is going gaga over angry dick pic man.”

“I’m not going gaga, what the heck-“

“I think it’s cute,” Ashido says with a big smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually be interested in somebody; it’s really cute!”

“I don’t like him like that,” Kirishima stresses, though his cheeks are a little warm. He can blame that on the lack of air conditioning, he thinks.

“We talking about angry dick pic man?” Sero asks with a shit-eating grin. “10 bucks say he’s actually a middle-aged guy with a cheese fetish.”

“That’s so random-“

“You’re on!” Ashido yells, slapping her hand into Sero’s. “I think he’ll be a hottie.”

“He hasn’t even said he’ll come,” Kirishima says, eyes downcast.

“He’ll come,” the three chorus, going about doing their tasks. Kirishima shakes his head fondly and finishes up with the glasses. Just as he’s put all the shot glasses away, he feels his phone vibrate.

Bakubro just finished a massive project

Bakubro could use a drink this weekend

Bakubro know any good spots?

Kirishima’s face breaks into the biggest smile as he rushes to answer.

Kirishima I know a bar that serves free drinks with your name on it!!!!

Kirishima amazing food, dope music, the bestest drinks

Kirishima ive heard the bartender is a great guy too

Bakubro way to toot your own fucking horn damn

Kirishima :DDDDD

Kirishima bt seriously

Kirishima please? ???? ??

Kirishima PLEASEEEEEEEEE??????????????????

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro fine.

Bakubro Friday night at 8

Kirishima looks up from the screen and calls out, “Denki!”

“Yeah?”

“Switch shifts with me, I’ll do Friday.”

“Um, ok, why though?”

Kirishima doesn’t respond, just goes back to texting, his heart thudding in his ribcage.

Kirishima YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Kirishima cant wait :D

Bakubro I’m bringing my stupid friends btw

Kirishima wait

Kirishima you have friends???????

Bakubro I am going to end you

Bakubro you know what? Fuck you im not coming

Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

Kirishima IM SORRY OFC U HAVE FRNDS

Kirishima please come

Kirishima how big a table should I reserve????

Bakubro don’t bother

Kirishima IM SORRRYYYYYYYYYY

Kirishima <image attached> <image attached> <image attached>

Bakubro bastard

Bakubro you playing dirty by sending me pics of Ruby

Kirishima need to weaken your guard somehow

Kirishima pls tell me it worked

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro ill be there

Bakubro reserve a table for 4

Bakubro your stupid bar better be worth it

Kirishima I promise it will be!!!!

Kirishima whoops in joy, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He looks up to see three sets of eyes looking at him with varying degrees of amusement.

“You get a really mushy look on your face when you’re texting him, it’s almost gross,” Sero points out with a laugh.

“Hush you,” Ashido admonishes, whipping her dishcloth at him. She walks over to Kirishima and gives him a big hug. “I think it’s very, very precious.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s coming this Friday!” Kirishima beams, holding Ashido closer against his side.

The three giggle.

“10 bucks say Kirishima messes up the drinks at least once.”

“HEY!”

Ashido squeezes around his middle. “Hon, I love you, but I’m not dumb enough to go against that.”

“HEY!”

They end up laughing and fibbing at each other for the rest of the prep time, and Kirishima feels his heart absolutely soar.

Friday brings with it crunch time, running lines and lines of code, having a mini-breakdown because the stupid text block keeps floating around on the webpage like it’s in outer fucking space, being forced into one of Camie’s ridiculous vlogs and having an existential crisis about what to wear on a non-date get-together with the guy that ruined Bakugou’s life for close to three months.

Camie spends most of the day laughing at him. Bakugou throws more condiments at her.

“Fucking help me at least, you useless wench,” Bakugou growls, shifting to clothes as he throws a pair of jeans at her. Camie dances out of the way and doubles over, laughing till she tears up from the force of it all.

“I can’t, I just can’t,” she wheezes. “Did you just say wench? What era are you from babe?”

“FUCK OFF,” he roars, leaping towards her. Camie shrieks and ducks away, making a beeline towards his closet.

“Ok, ok, let’s get you dressed! What kinda look are you trying for?”

“Fuck if I know,” he grouses, feeling oddly out of his depth. He wants to look good, but he has no idea for what.

That’s a lie, he knows why. He just won’t admit it.

“Well, why don’t we pick something simple but flattering? Plus, if it's in your style, you’re bound to be more comfy.” Camie pulls out a pair of black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a black fitted round-neck tee shirt, and some black boots. While he’s changing, Camie pulls out a silver chain, some bands for his wrists and a collection of rings.

“Do you want me to do your eyes?” she offers, holding up some mascara and an eye pencil. Bakugou shrugs and sits on the edge of his bed. Camie’s smile is soft as she stands between his thighs, gently but efficiently applying his make-up. When she’s done, he walks over to the mirror to look at himself, and he has to admit- he looks good. Always one to take care of his body and his figure, Bakugou is lean muscle packed into a 5’10” body. His blonde hair is as messy as ever, but the combination of his make-up, the accessories and his clothes give him an edgy look like no other. Camie throws a dark fitted jacket at him before sauntering over to her own room.

He continues to reply to some work emails when his phone buzzes.

dumbass cant wait to see you!!!

dumbass just ask for me at the bar

dumbass or I might be the one to greet you!! :D :D

Bakugou I know dumbass

Bakugou what, are you nervous or some shit?

dumbass I mean, kinda????

dumbass it’s our first time meeting afterall

dumbass I don’t even know wat you look like!!!!

Bakugou blonde wearing all black

dumbass redhead wearing a shirt with the riot logo!

Bakugou whatever

Bakugou ill be there at 8

Dumbass cant wait <33333

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou scoffs, his own nerves calming at the thought that he’s not the only one that’s a bit out of sorts. It’s nice to know that sunshine Kirishima is jittery about all this.

Also, interesting to know that he’s a redhead. Bakugou can’t quite imagine it, but in a few minutes, he won't need to.

His stomach roils with anticipation, and Bakugou hates every single thing.

Camie pops out of her room at half-past 7 in a maroon romper that cuts above her mid-thigh, hair done in a loose bun, makeup absolutely perfect. Her heels put her at a height taller than Bakugou, but he’s gotten used to being the shortest in their stupid posse. Doesn’t piss him off any less though.

She gets a phone call just as she pushes a tube of lip gloss into her purse.

“We are downstairs!” Inasa’s voice rings through her speaker, stupidly loud.

“Can it, baldy,” Bakugou grunts with a roll of his eyes, “we’ll be there in a sec.”

“See ya!”

Before Bakugou can usher Camie out the door, she pushes her clutch into his hands and walks over to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“Wha-“

“Liquid courage, my dude,” she says, pouring two generous shots and pushing one at Bakugou. She picks her own glass up and gives him a devilish smirk, “Bottoms up bitch!”

Bakugou picks the glass up with a resigned sigh but smirks back equally devilish. They cheers, smack the glasses against the counter and drain them smoothly. Camie puts the glasses in the sink, places a smacking kiss on Bakugou’s cheek and laughs brightly as she dances out of the way of his rage.

They finally load up in Inasa’s range rover, Todoroki plays classical Japanese music over the speakers and Bakugou regrets everything.

Riot is apparently something of a beloved establishment in its neighbourhood, and Bakugou growls when he sees how long the line leading to the bar is.

“Holy moly, that’s a lot of people!” Camie points out helpfully as she disembarks from the car.

Todoroki straightens his two-tone denim jacket and runs a hand through his hair as he says, “We have a reservation, so I think it’ll be fine?”

“Yes, I agree with you Todoroki,” Inasa beams, locking the car behind him as they walk towards the building. The outside is made of exposed brick and neon lights, and the RIOT sign is a deep red colour, eye-catching and beautiful.

They bypass the people in the line and walk up to the bouncer, who eyes them warily. He’s built like an absolute tank, broad and block-like, and his silver hair shines in the artificial light.

“Can I help you?”

“Bakugou, table for 4,” Camie says cheerily. The bouncer looks immediately enamoured with her before his eyes go wide.

“Wait, Eijirou’s Bakugou?”

Bakugou’s ears burn at that.

“I’m not fucking anybody’s!” he snaps. The bouncer immediately looks at him, and his face breaks into an even wider grin.

“Well, I’ll be damned! Can I see some ID real quick?”

Bakugou cusses colourfully under his breath but pulls out his license, and after a quick check, the bouncer, whose name is Tetsutetsu, steps aside to let them in.

“Have a good time!” he says happily, almost too happily. Bakugou feels his hackles rise.

“What the fuck?”

“It appears that Kirishima talks about you at least as much as you talk about him,” Todoroki observes, walking next to Bakugou.

“I don’t talk about him, fuck you!”

Todoroki’s delicately raised brow makes him want to punch something. Or someone. Preferably both.

“Fuck you all,” he reiterates before stomping inside.

Now, Bakugou is a relatively creative soul – his job kinda demands it – so it’s not his fault that he’s actually quite captivated by the interiors of this stupidly popular bar co-owned by a stupidly nice person.

The inside has exposed brick as well, and most of the furniture seems to be retro. There are large pipes and barrels behind the bar, made of what seems to be pure copper. Black marble covers the bar tops, and the lights are a mix of neon and muted whites, bright enough to see but still bathing the room in an alluring aura. There’s music thumping through the speakers, loud enough to dispel any silence but still at a bearable volume.

“Swanky,” Camie whistles, taking it all in.

Bakugou nods begrudgingly before setting his eyes on the bar.

“I’ll go get us a fucking table,” he mutters before walking over, hands digging deep into his pant pockets. He sees a lanky black-haired guy and a girl with tan skin and pink hair behind the bar, talking animatedly with the patrons as they serve them drinks at a dizzying pace.

When he finally gets a spot at the counter, the pink-haired girl finishes up with a customer and bounds over to him.

“Hi,” she greets, smile wide and happy, “haven’t seen you around before! What can I get you?”

“Kirishima,” Bakugou says because apparently, his brain to mouth filter has decided to abandon him in his time of need. The girl tilts her head in confusion and Bakugou feels the life drain out of him.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m fuckin here because of dumbass Kirishima,” Bakugou barely grits out, fingers digging into his palms painfully. “The name is Bakugou, table for 4?”

He sees it all in slow-mo- the way her mouth goes slack, the way her eyes light up like firecrackers on New Year’s, and then the way her smile becomes positively blinding. He hates her already.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, “of course! So glad you’re here! Oye, Sero?”

“What?” the black-haired guy says without looking, topping up a perfectly poured glass of beer.

“You owe me 10 bucks.”

This gets his attention- he hands the drink off and looks at her, “Why would I-“

The girl just gestures at Bakugou and winks, “It’s him.”

Sero – or plain face, Bakugou’s brain helpfully supplies – immediately looks at him, his eyes widening. “Shit, seriously? Aw, man.” His smile becomes mischievous. “I’ll get Kirishima.” He opens the door behind the bar and disappears.

“What the fuck was that?” Bakugou snaps, beyond irritated to be so out of the loop.

“Nothing, nothing,” Pinky sings, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Kirishima will show your party to your table. Do you want anything in the meantime?”

“… a beer,” Bakugou concedes because he’s not dumb enough to not get a drink before he sees Kirishima if he can help it.

“Coming right up!”

He waits at the bar, watching as his group of dumbasses ooh and ahh at the place, looking delighted. A bottle of cold beer hits the counter with a satisfying thunk, bringing his attention back to the bartop.

“Enjoy!” Pinky still has a stupid smile on her face but before Bakugou can say anything, the door behind her is thrown open and plain face steps out.

“The restocking can wait, literally the only thing you’ve talked about for the last 3 days is finally happening.”

The guy following him is all tanned skin and thick muscles under a fitted deep red tee shirt. His hair is a bright unnatural red, pulled into a high pony with a few strands still framing his face. His eyes are a softer red than Bakugou’s own, his cheeks sharp and high, and when his eyes meet Bakugou’s, a zip of electricity races down his spine and along his limbs till he can feel it in his toes.

When the man makes his way over, Bakugou also notes how damn tall he is- easily around 6’4”. His smile is shy, and he smells like sandalwood.

“Bakugou, hi,” he breathes, hesitantly holding his hand out. Bakugou takes it in a daze, still amazed by just how stupidly beautiful this stupidly kind bar owner is.

“Heyyo, you disappeared fam, how’s it going?”

Bakugou hates everything.

He reluctantly slips his hand out of Kirishima’s warm, firm grip and turns to Camie with venomous eyes. “I literally just met him Cam, shut the fuck up.” He turns back to Kirishima, “Can you show us to our table?”

Kirishima shakes his head once before his smile turns blinding, and Bakugou finds himself fighting the urge to shield his eyes. “Of course,” he says in a voice that’s deep and warm and honey-like, “right this way!”

Bakugou snags his beer off the counter and takes a quick swig before Camie steals it and takes a few sips of her own. He growls at her but otherwise behaves, watching Kirishima’s back as he leads them through throngs of people engaged in cheerful conversation.

“Ok, well, he’s hot,” Cam says around the lip of the bottle. “Total beefcake. Whaddya think, boo?”

“I think you should fuck off,” Bakugou hisses, his face burning.

“If you wanted to go on a date, you probably shouldn’t have invited us,” Todoroki says, taking the offered bottle from Camie.

Before Bakugou can explode in their faces, Kirishima stops and turns around. “Here ya go!” He gestures to a table behind him, tucked into a more private corner of the bar. It’s large and cushy, and when Bakugou gets in after Camie, he’s surprised at how soft the material is.

“So?” Kirishima says, eyes trained on Bakugou.

“Fuckin what?” Bakugou snaps, voice lacking any heat.

Kirishima laughs, head thrown back to reveal a long, thick neck and Bakugou is so damn weak.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Bakugou clicks his tongue before gesturing at each of them, “Camie, marketing expert by day, YouTube beauty vlogger by night, pain in my ass always. Todoroki, environmental lawyer and a soba obsessed weirdo. Inasa, physiotherapist and resident dumbass.”

Kirishima gives them all a wave before saying, “Kirishima, co-owner of Riot and the reason why Bakugou saw more unwarranted penises than strictly necessary in a lifetime.”

“Asshole,” Bakugou grumbles, earning him another laugh and a bashful hand ruffling the back of Kirishima’s head.

“Still so sorry about that man,” Kirishima offers, “everything’s definitely on the house for you all! Speaking of ordering-“ Kirishima moves on to explain their ordering system-

“You can scan the code with your camera app,” the redhead says, pointing at the barcode on the centrepiece of their table, “and it pulls up our bar and food menu. Just enter your order and your table number,” he points at the large digits on the side that glows a bright 15 back at them.

Inasa pulls his phone out to order. Before he leaves, Kirishima says, “Can I get your drink order before I go?”

Camie asks for a LIIT, Inasa gets a Soju bomb and Todoroki starts off with his usual- a cosmo.

“You good on that beer?” Kirishima asks Bakugou warmly, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, sliding lower into his seat. “Maybe get me another, your choice?”

“Coming right up,” Kirishima beams before stepping away, and Bakugou’s heart splutters around his chest at the sight of sharp white teeth and cheek-aching grins.

“He’s so cute!” Camie squeals, stealing the last of his beer. “And he’s totes into you too.”

“I have to agree, he’s very attractive,” Todoroki says impassively.

“Certified hottie,” Inasa rounds up, flashing his own biceps for some reason.

Bakugou is so done, and they’ve been here all 5 minutes.

“Kirishim- Kirishima, the beer is overflowing,” Ashido says, pushing him away and taking over. “God, you’re so gone for him, it’s almost embarrassing.”

Kirishima snaps out of his stupor and moves to take the glass back. Ashido hip checks him away.

“You’re being a little stupid, go help Satou with plating and take the food to lover boy’s table.”

“He has a name, you know,” Kirishima mumbles, but Ashido simply laughs, and Kirishima feels his neck and ears go warm.

Because who let Bakugou walk into his bar looking like that? Looking so damn gorgeous in his all-black get up and his perfect eye make-up and that fierce scowl?

Kirishima’s heart had pretty much stopped at the sight of him, and it was yet to regain its usual rhythm.

The redhead rests his forehead against the wall and mumbles, “I’m so screwed.”

“We know buddy,” Sero says, patting his back sympathetically, “we know.”

For all that Bakugou hates outings and people and outings in places filled with people, he finds himself having a moderately good time.

Because the food is delicious if lacking a little heat, the alcohol is mixed perfectly and the music is fantastic, filtering through old rock classics with some alt stuff mixed in.

And then there’s Kirishima- tending the bar with ease, laughing along with his co-workers, and sending Bakugou wide, happy smiles that sets his entire face on fire.

“This place is awesome,” Camie whoops, banging another shot glass on the table before knocking it back with ease. Todoroki joins her, his impassive face not so much as twitching at the taste of strong tequila before he bites into a lime. Inasa is already beer drunk, cheeks dusky as he hums along to the music.

“Insufferable,” Bakugou mumbles around his 4th-ish beer. He likes to keep up his grumpy act till his last shred of dignity melts away cause of the alcohol, and he’s probably pretty hit already because he lets Camie pull him into her side with her arm around his shoulder, his nose suddenly privy to the scent of her mellow perfume.

“I love you guys,” Camie beams, picking up her beer and waving it in front of her. Todoroki and Inasa clink their drinks against it, and Bakugou silently waves his own bottle around before downing it.

“You guys good on- oh my god, are you Camie? THE Camie?”

It’s Pinky at their table and her eyes are so comically wide that Bakugou can’t help his snort of laughter. He feels Camie straighten up, but her arm around him stays, holding him close.

“Define THE Camie,” she says with a smile in her voice.

“The beauty blogger that I’ve only been following for the last 3 years, holy shit I love your videos.” And then suddenly, her eyes narrow on Bakugou before she snaps her fingers. “NO WONDER YOU LOOK FAMILIAR! You’re the angry blonde in all her videos!”

“Haan? You wanna go pinky?” Bakugou growls, moving to stand up. Camie keeps him firmly by her side, her laughter shaking them both.

“That’s us!” Camie says. Bakugou finally fights his way out of her grip and throws her a withering look, or his drunken attempt at one anyway. She winks, and he fake gags. “I don’t get recognized in public all that often LOL, this is fun.”

“Did you just say LOL in a verbal fucking conversation?”

“What do you mean you don’t get recognized; you literally have like 3.2million subscribers.”

Camie ignores Bakugou and shrugs at Pinky. “I guess my primary demographic aint here fam. Speaking of which,” she thrusts her hand out, “what’s your name?”

“Ashido Mina,” she says, taking her hand firmly. Camie introduces her to the others, and Bakugou looks back at the bar, disappointed to see that he can’t find Kirishima.

“Can I top you guys off?” Kirishima says, suddenly right next to their table, effectively startling the shit outta Bakugou.

Camie chirps an affirmative, Todoroki asks for a water and checks to see if Inasa’s breathing as the big olf continues to sleep, curled up in the corner of the booth.

“And you Bakubro?”

“Don’t call me that,” Bakugou frowns before adding, “I should probably stop, I’m already kinda tipsy.”

“Lightweight,” Camie teases.

Bakugou gives her the stink eye. “Woman, the one time I tried keeping up with you, I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and you didn’t have so much as a hangover, so fuck off.”

“Seriously?” Kirishima says, eyes wide.

“That’s amazing,” Ashido murmurs, her smile crooked and dangerous.

Bakugou. Hates. Everything.

“He had no lasting liver damage, we’re all fine,” Camie reassures before diving into a conversation with Mina about beauty hacks and good mascara brands and global warming.

Kirishima leans close to Bakugou, bathing him in that warm sandalwood scent. “How about I get you some water and one last beer? A Hefeweizen?”

Bakugou turns to look at him, and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how close they are, when he sees just how red Kirishima’s eyes are, how the heat seems to radiate off his skin. He exhales in a rush and looks away, answering with a jerky nod.

Kirishima gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze – he’s so warm, his hand is fucking huge – before walking to the bar and picking their stuff up.

When pinky finally meanders away from their table to serve other customers, Camie leans her head on Bakugou’s shoulder and says, “We’ll leave soon, ok?”

Bakugou nods again, leaning some of his weight back into her. Todoroki catches his eye and flashes him a warm, tipsy smile, and if he returns it with one of his own, well, he’s drunk out of his skull and has approximately no fucks to give.

Long after putting Bakugou and his posse in a cab, before which they insisted on paying pretty much the entire tab since they ate and drank a LOT, Kirishima and the rest are cleaning up when Ashido whips him with her cleaning rag.

Kirishima looks at her with betrayed eyes, “Wha-“

“Ei, you better text him again.”

“About what?” Kirishima says glumly. “I did what I said I would do, and I promised to leave him alone after that.”

“Boy please,” Ashido scoffs, roughly wiping down one of the tables, “ya’ll made such gooey eyes at each other all night, plus I’m pretty sure he paid the entire tab just so you could keep up whatever façade you guys have going on to cover up the fact that you have INSANE chemistry with one another.”

“Yeah, the tension was palpable bro,” Sero chimes in, throwing an arm around his waist. “I think you should text him too. He seemed really amusing, and his whole group was a riot.”

Kirishima rolls his eyes at the pun but smiles at them, feeling a new burst of energy in his limbs.

“You guys are absolutely right! Worst case, he blocks me. At least I won’t have any regrets.”

“Yeah boy, get it with that optimism.”

Bakugou wakes up to a slight headache, a mouth that tastes like ash, and a profound sadness that settles atop his sternum, weighing him down and pressing him into his mattress.

He sees the glass of water on his bedside table with ibuprofen placed neatly next to it and downs them both without so much as a second thought. As his brain slowly comes back online, he takes a moment to finally navigate his messy feelings and comes to a crushing realization-

Kirishima doesn’t have to text him anymore.

The redhead had said that he’d leave him alone after making it up to him, and yes, it was Bakugou’s standoffish nature that got them into that situation in the first place. And yes, Bakugou had paid the tab mostly because it was too high a bill to be footed by the bar and Bakugou made bank, but also because a small, minuscule part of him hoped that the gesture would make Kirishima insist on another outing or something to ‘make it up to him'.

The blonde doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the fact that he forgave Kirishima almost two days into texting him.

He almost avoids his phone out of fear alone and makes it through a whole cup of coffee and 3 chapters into a novel recommended by Deku before finally picking up his phone to check for emails and notifications.

He expects none from Kirishima.

So, of course, there are 3 from the redhead.

Bakugou’s heart leaps to his throat and he can’t seem to unlock his phone quite fast enough.

fuck he’s cute hi Bakugou, thank you for coming last night!!!

fuck he’s cute it was actually really cool 2 finally meet you. U didn’t have to pay the tab tho :’D

fuck he’s cute bt since u did, I still owe u. can we figure it out later??? Also, what did you think of the place???

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou you’ve got a swanky place, I’ll give you that. Food was fucking good too. could be spicier.

Bakugou you got cam completely hooked

Bakugou and yeah, you better make it up to me later. Asshole.

Kirishima replies a few hours later, just as Bakugou finishes up a yoga routine that stretches out his back in the best way possible.

fuck he’s cute :D :D :D :D :D

fuck he’s cute can’t wait

fuck he’s cute <image attached>

fuck he’s cute ruby says hi

It’s a selfie this time, not a picture of just the kitty. Bakugou can appreciate how cute the mutt is, but for once, he has no attention to spare her. Not when Kirishima’s eyes are crinkling around the edges from how hard he smiles up at the camera, not when he’s wearing a tank top with relaxed arm holes, showing off bulging muscles and hints of ink, and not when just the mere thought of him makes Bakugou’s stomach flop around uncontrollably.

He barely manages to reply coherently.

Bakugou the only bright spot in this shitty world

He presses his phone to his forehead and quietly contemplates just how gay he is. Camie pets his head on the way to the kitchen.

It takes Bakugou some time to get used to waking up to Good Morning texts and a stream of random thoughts from Kirishima all day. The flutter in his stomach disappears a few weeks into talking to the redhead, instead replaced by a bone-deep warmth that always manages to make him feel a little better.

dumbass kirishima GOOOOOOOD MORNING :D

dumbass Kirishima someone threw up on my fave shoes last night

Bakugou HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Bakugou suffer

dumbass Kirishima y u so mean to me ☹ ☹

Bakugou cause its fuckin hilarious

dumbass Kirishima ☹

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou <image attached> [it’s a picture of Bakugou’s balcony, and all his plants look vibrant green as the sun hits them just right]

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima legit felt my serotonin just spike

dumbass Kirishima thxxxxxx

Bakugou whatever

Bakuguo dumbass

---

Bakugou if I plan a murder can I count on your stupid muscles to help me move the body

dumbass Kirishima D:

dumbass Kirishima at least take me out to dinner b4 involving me in your crimes

dumbass Kirishima what a lack of manners

Bakugou stfu

dumbass Kirishima :”D :”D

dumbass Kirishima youre joking right?

dumbass Kirishima right??

dumbass Kirishima RIGHT?????

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU THIS IS A BAD TIME TO LEAVE ME HANGING BRO DO NOT DO THIS

Bakugou don’t call me bro

dumbass Kirishima THAT IS NOT THE POINT RIGHT NOW

Bakugou lol I didn’t do shit dumbass don’t worry

Bakugou or did I?

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

---

dumbass Kirishima <image attached> [it’s a gym selfie; Kirishima is crouching in front of the mirror shirtless, hair pulled into a bun atop his head. He’s glistening with sweat, and he’s got a more serious look on his face. He’s not actively flexing any muscle, but the pose makes his thighs, calves and biceps bulge. One hand holds the phone, the other is resting on his bent knee]

dumbass Kirishima working on deez gainz

Bakugou what time do you usually workout

dumbass Kirishima depends on my schedule actually

dumbass Kirishima I prefer the morning, but when I take the late night shift I usually go be4 work the next day

Bakugou hmmm

Bakugou let me know

Bakugou maybe we can go together

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh I changed my mind

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima no takebacksies

Bakugou fucking fantastic

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

---

“So, let me get this straight- you guys gym together at least once a week, you talk every day, your stomach flutters at the mere thought of him and Cam swears he’s making googly eyes at you all the time, and you still haven’t asked each other out yet?”

Bakugou flips his phone off, “Fuck off Deku, don’t be a little shit.”

Midoriya’s face morphs into an amused smile on the other end of their facetime call, “Are you being bashful Kacchan? That’s adorable.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“NOOOOO,” Midoriya bemoans dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m missing all this.”

“Yeah, well, who the fuck told you to teach kids English halfway across the world dumbass?”

“I miss you too Kacchan,” Midoriya beams, making a heart with his hands.

“I truly loathe you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Midoriya puts a few papers away before sighing. “So?”

“So what?”

“So, are you going to make a move? How do you plan on doing it?”

“I don’t,” Bakugou ruffles his hair and ducks his head to hide his rapidly warming cheeks, “I’m not asking him out Deku, fuck that.”

“Why not?” the asshole whines, eyes wide and innocent. “You deserve happiness Kacchan. Plus, he seems like a really nice guy.” Midoriya leans forward and adds in a whisper, “I’ve heard he has a fantastic butt.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes and flips him off again, “Fuck off, you can’t say that without actually meeting him.”

“I’ll be back before then. You guys better be dating already when I get there.”

“Stop telling me what to do, shitty Deku!”

“Never Kacchan, that’s what you do for the people you love.”

“Ugh, how are you so gross when you’re so far away, I hate you.”

Midoriya’s laugh sounds tinny over the phone speaker, lacking its usual body and warmth. Bakugou huffs again before picking his novel back up to read.

“Hi Zuku,” Camie calls out from over Bakugou’s shoulder. “You need to come back soon and help me with Kitkat, he refuses to make the first move!”

“Butt out of my fucking love life, you freaks!”

“Can’t butt out of something that doesn’t exist Kats,” Camie deadpans.

Bakugou feels extremely justified in flinging a stress ball right at her. The kitchen fills up with raucous laughter, from his phone and from the person standing in front of him, and Bakugou thinks that adding a deeper, warmer laugh to the mix, coming from a specific redhead might not be the worst thing in the world.

Kiri bakugouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Bakugou what?

Kiri just wanted to say hi <3

Bakugou wth

Kiri we still on fr the gym tomorrow?

Bakugou obviously you dumbass

Bakugou I need you to spot me

Bakugou im beating my personal best tomorrow or im going to die trying

Kiri so manly :O :O :O

Kiri I’ve got you bruh

Bakugou don’t call me that

Bakugou and I know you do

Kiri <3 <3

---

Bakugou <link>

Bakugou that playlist you were asking about

Kiri u da bomb katsuki

Bakugou katsuki huh?

Bakugou getting cocky I see

Kiri I mean, weve known each other for like 4 months now???

Kiri ur one of my closest pals

Kiri I don’t have to, I just thought ud like it more than bro

Bakugou I do like it more than bro

Bakugou eijirou

Bakugou I guess ur not terrible

Eijirou ????

Eijirou did you just?? pay me????? A compliment??

Eijirou who r u and wat have you done to katsuki?

Bakugou fuck you

Bakugou just fuck you

Eijirou <3 <3 <3

Bakugou wakes up one morning, approximately 5 months after meeting Kirishima for the first time, with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His work goes smoothly. The coffee tastes potent and fresh, his body feels fine, his plants are thriving, Camie is busy with her own deadlines and therefore not bugging him, even the sun is mellow and warm; the perfect weather.

The pit in his stomach worsens with every hour.

It doesn’t help that all of his messages to Kirishima have gone unanswered; he hasn’t even been online all day. In the months that they’ve communicated, he’s never gone a day without texting the man, and now it’s like he fell off the face of the Earth.

When it gets closer to 6 in the evening, Bakugou decides to call if Kirishima doesn’t get in touch himself. Because the pit in his stomach is making him nauseous, and he needs to know if the redhead is ok if only for the sake of his own damn health.

He gets a call from an unknown number at 5:20 in the evening. The pit in his stomach becomes a yawning chasm as he picks up the call.

“Hello?”

“Bakugou, it’s Ashido, from the bar.”

Bakugou pulls in a deep breath. “Where is Kirishima?”

“Um, there was an incident last night, at Riot.” She sighs deeply before continuing, “Kiri got jumped in the alley outside by a bunch of really drunk homophobic assholes that saw him turn down some guy’s number. He actually fought them off for the most part, but he’s sustained a broken nose and some fractured ribs. We’re at the hospital right now.”

Bakugou sinks to the ground, his stomach plummeting with him. “Are you fucking serious right now? Fuck-“

“I’ll text you the hospital details, ok? I’m sorry we didn’t call sooner, between talking to his moms and the hospital folks, it slipped my mind.”

“I’ll be there,” Bakugou says, standing up on shaky feet and stumbling back to his room. “Just don’t leave him alone.”

“Never in a million years.”

They hang up and Bakugou changes, hails a cab, and gets to the hospital in a complete daze.

His affection for the redhead, brimming and spilling from every crevice, makes itself evident when he lays eyes on him in the hospital bed and feels a surge of protectiveness. He wants to kill the people that did this, he wants to gather Kirishima in his arms and hold him tight, he wants to crawl into bed with him and talk about stupid shit and see him smile again.

“He’s pretty high on pain meds right now,” Ashido says from somewhere behind him, pointing to his IV lines, “so he’s been saying really funny stuff. The doctors did a full evaluation and said he should recover completely in 5ish weeks.”

Bakugou nods and swallows thickly. Ashido squeezes his arm before leaving the hospital room, shutting the door behind her softly.

Kirishima hasn’t seen him yet, so Bakugou approaches his bed carefully before placing a hand on the guardrail. The noise pulls Kirishima’s attention towards him, and Bakugou’s gut tightens when those large, warm eyes go completely soft at the sight of him.

“Kassaki~” Kirishima slurs, his smile large and dopey.

“You absolute dumbass,” Bakugou chokes out, his hand moving from the rail to grip Kirishima’s tightly. Kirishima’s fingers twine with his own with practised ease and his smile turns gooey.

“Hi Kats, you look beautiful today.”

Bakugou half-laughs, half-sobs and rubs his eyes fiercely. Kirishima’s face is a bit bruised, and there’s a huge bandage on his nose, but he doesn’t look nearly as bad as Bakugou had first feared. The pit in his stomach finally calms, slowly loosening until he can breathe normally again.

“Shut up Eiji,” Bakugou grumbles, sitting down on the chair beside the bed. He leaves his hand in Kirishima’s.

“Ok,” Kirishima agrees easily. It takes 10 seconds for him to break the silence again.

“Hey Kats?”

“What?”

“Are we dating?”

Bakugou startles at that, eyes snapping over to Kirishima’s. He doesn’t look accusatory or hurt or weirded out or anything- merely curious.

“No, we’re not.”

“Oh.” Kirishima frowns, “Why not?”

Bakugou huffs out a small laugh, “Because we’re both idiots.”

“Oh,” the redhead says, then nods. “That kinda tracks.”

“HEY!”

Kirishima’s smile becomes dopey again, eyes crinkling in the most endearing way.

“I really like you Kats. You’re so smart and funny and you always smell like fabric softener, and you’re just like. Really pretty.”

Bakugou feels his face heat up completely, his grip on Kirishima’s hand tightening.

“Just rest, you dumbass,” Bakugou says weakly, his entire body too hot for comfort. He watches Kirishima’s smile become something warm and loving in a way that hits his heart, and he doesn’t let go of the redhead’s hand, right up until the end of visiting hours.

When he exits the hospital alongside Ashido, he feels the last of his energy drain.

“I cant believe we didn’t get to him sooner,” Ashido mumbles, rubbing at her eyes fiercely. “The bar was noisy, and he just wanted to dump out some trash. Hanta noticed he was gone a while before we went out back and found him punching the last dude.”

Bakugou purses his lips. Truth be told, he cant believe Kirishima had gotten so badly hurt so close to his own bar, and he’s pissed as fuck that the idiot brigade had even let it happen, but the sincerity in Ashido’s voice tugs at his chest painfully.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Bakugou laughs humorlessly. “He’ll probably say there’s nothing to forgive in the first place.”

Ashido’s laugh is hollow, “That’s our Eijirou.” She looks at Bakugou again. “You coming tomorrow?”

He flashes her his best sneer. “You best believe I’m going to come by every single fucking day till he’s discharged.”

Ashido’s smile becomes a little more genuine, a little more well-rounded.

“I’m really glad he has you.” Her voice goes all soft and gross as she continues, “You mean a LOT to him, in case you didn’t already know.”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou mumbles, before waving her off and walking away.

Because he does know.

He also knows he’s falling madly in love with him, and that he’s completely and utterly screwed.

And he finds that he really doesn’t mind all that much. Some people, he rationalizes, are worth the horrible butterflies and the too hot too cold feelings down the back of his spine.

Some people, he realizes, are worth loving with everything you’ve got.

It takes Kirishima five weeks of house arrest to recover completely. Bakugou spends every weekday and a few of the weekends with him, staying over more often than not. He fusses over the redhead, forces him to take his medication on time, and cooks him everything under the sun.

“You’re spoiling me,” the redhead whines when Bakugou serves him what smells like the best mapo tofu he’s ever going to have.

The blonde grins triumphantly, “You’re damn right I am.”

They bicker and banter constantly, but they also curl up and marathon old bond movies at night. Kirishima goes over the bar’s paperwork while Bakugou works off his couch, and they take turns making the coffee. Ruby falls in love with Bakugou and curls up on his chest every chance she gets, and Bakugou laughs at Kirishima’s look of betrayal. The redhead’s couch is ridiculously comfortable, and he leaves his memory foam pillow with the blonde.

“You refuse to take my bed,” he grumbles, “so you damn well better accept my stupid pillow.”

Bakugou’s neck thanks the redhead profusely.

It’s new and weird, living with someone for the first time. Kirishima’s posse are in and out through the day, and Camie comes by just as often, bringing a change of clothes and gossip with her. Todoroki drops in with some high-quality tequila sometimes and Inasa brings his infectious energy, and through all of this, Kirishima remains in high spirits, even if he goes a little stir crazy sometimes.

It’s new and it’s weird, going from casual touches to more loving ones, more comforting ones. It becomes commonplace for Bakugou to rest his head between Kirishima’s shoulder blades on the days that he has a bad time at work. It’s normal for Kirishima to place his head on Bakugou’s lap while they watch shark documentaries. It’s easy for them to bump knees and press their calves together while enjoying their morning coffee.

It’s new and it’s weird and it’s amazing.

Because Bakugou finds himself falling in love with the little things. The way Kirishima sticks his tongue out when he’s smashing the PS5 controller during an especially intense game of Mario party, the way he makes the coffee with a sleepy smile on his face, the way he hums off-key to a song that’s stuck in his head, the way he can understand Bakugou- can differentiate between his frustrated fuck, his bashful fuck, his angry fuck, his sleepy fuck.

And how he accepts it all without so much as a hitch in his step.

Bakugou watches himself fall in love, slowly, and then all at once.

“How is it that he lived with you for almost 5 weeks and you STILL didn’t ask him out? Or kiss him stupid? Or something?”

Sero has a finger pinching the bridge of his nose, the other flexing loosely in front of his chest as he tries to fathom the stupidity of two people that could not be more into each other if they tried.

“I, I uh-“ Kirishima hangs his head, “I have no excuse.” He sighs deeply. “I was scared he’d give me a pity answer cause I was injured and everything.”

Ashido looks over her shoulder with incredulous eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Eiji, I know you love us so like, if any of us were hurt like this you’d take care of us till we were better too. But do you think someone like BAKUGOU would practically move into someone’s house to make sure they were ok if he wasn’t nuts about them? Really?”

Kirishima’s face flushes, and he waves her away. “I don’t want to read into it. He’s just a really, really, really good guy. And what we have is good, it’s great! We’re bros. Pals. Friends. It’s all good.”

Ashido continues to stare at him for another moment before throwing her hands up and yelling, “BOYS!” She stomps into the kitchen to help Satou with prep for the day.

They continue to stock up the bar, Kirishima assigned to prepping limes and the ice machine, when the door opens and someone steps in.

“Sorry, we’re not op- Bakugou?”

And there stands the blonde with the biggest bouquet of flowers – chrysanthemums and sunflowers – that Kirishima has ever seen. The redhead distantly hears the sound of a door close behind him, and suddenly they’re alone, the tension positively stifling.

“Bakugo-“

“Go on a date with me.”

Kirishima sucks in a startled breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Go on a date. With me,” Bakugou repeats, his neck and ears tinging the loveliest shade of red. “The romantic kind. Where we dress up and get food and drinks and fight over the bill and walk each other to the door and get super awkward before we kiss. All that shit.”

Kirishima isn’t sure how it happens- one moment he’s on this side of the bar, the next, he’s jumping across and gathering Bakugou into a tight embrace, mindful of his newly healed ribs but still unwilling to release the blonde until Bakugou returns his hug, burying his face into Kirishima’s chest.

“Is that a yes?” Bakugou mumbles when they finally pull away, his hands fisted in Kirishima’s shirt.

“In every possible language out there,” Kirishima answers, ducking down to softly kiss Bakugou on the cheek. He laughs as the blonde cusses and shoves him away and laughs even harder when Bakugou’s own smile covers his entire face, bright and open and oh so breathtaking.

That smile is Kirishima’s and Kirishima’s alone.

Eiji hiiiiiiiiiiii

Bakugou I swear to god Ei

Bakugou if you’re late for our first date I will find you

Eiji and give me a kiss? :*

Bakugou I don’t kiss people that don’t have good time management

Bakugou so fuck off

Eiji still so mean to me ☹

Eiji I want that kiss tho

Eiji so ill be ready

Eiji promise

Bakugou good

Eiji <3

Bakugou <3

Eiji :D :D :D :D :D :D

Eiji YOU LIKE ME ENOUGH TO SEND EMOJIS HU H <3333

Bakugou it will never happen again

Bakugou so fuck right off

Eiji :”D

Bakugou im outside

Eiji be right there

Eiji <3

#bnha #kiribaku #bakushima #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #flustered #boku no hero #mha #they're idiots your honor #giving out the wrong number au???#if that's a thing??????#this one's a monster y'all

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Text

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Dark”

Welcome back, everyone! Can you believe it's been six weeks already? I can't. Something something the uncomfortable passage of time during a pandemic as emphasized by a web-series.

But we're here to talk about RWBY the fictional story, not RWBY the cultural icon. At least, we will in a moment. First, I'd like to acknowledge that shaky line between the two, growing blurrier with every volume. A sort of good news, bad news situation.

The bad news — to get that out of the way — is that we cannot easily separate RWBY from its authors and those authors have, sadly, been drawing a lot of negative attention as of late. This isn't anything new, not at all, but I think the unexpectedly long hiatus gave a lot of fans (myself included) the chance to think about Rooster Teeth's failings without getting distracted by their biggest and brightest production. There's a laundry list of problems here — everything from the behavior of voice actors to the quality of their merch — but as a sort of summary issue, I'd like to highlight the reviews that continue to pop up on websites like Glassdoor, detailing the toxic, sexist, crunch-obsessed environment that RT employees are forced to work in. A lot of these websites requires a login to read more than a page of reviews, but you can check out a Twitter thread about it here.

Now, I want to be clear: I'm not bringing this up as a way to shame anyone enjoying RWBY. This isn't a simplistic claim of, "The authors are Problematic™ and therefore you can't like the stuff they produce." Nor is this meant to be a catch-all excuse for RWBY's problems. If it were, I'd have dropped these recaps years ago. I'm of the belief that audiences maintain the right to both praise and criticize the work they're given, regardless of the context in which that work was produced. At the end of the day, RT has presented RWBY as a finished product and, more than that, presents it as an excellent product, one worth both our emotional investment and our money (whether in the form of paying for a First account, or encouraging us to buy merch, attend cons, etc.) I'll continue to critique RWBY as needed, but I a) wanted fans to be at least peripherally aware of these issues and b) clarify that my use of "RT" in statements like, "I can't believe RT is screwing up this badly" is meant to be a broad, nebulas acknowledgement that someone in the company is screwing up, either creatively (doesn't have the skill to write a good scene) or morally (hasn't created an environment in which other creators are capable of crafting a good scene). The real, inner workings of such companies are mostly a secret to their audiences and thus it's near impossible for someone like me — random fan writing these for fun as a casual side hobby — to accurately point fingers. Hence, broad "RT." I just wanted to clarify that when I use this it's as a necessary placeholder for whoever is actually responsible, not a damnation of the overworked animator breaking down in a bathroom. Heavy stuff, but I thought it was necessary (or at least worthwhile) to acknowledge this issue as we head into the second half of the volume.

Now for the good news: RWBY has reached 100 episodes! For any who may not know, 100 is a pretty significant number in the TV world because, when talking about prime time programming, it guarantees syndicated reruns. Basically, networks don't want audiences to get burned out with a show — changing the channel when it comes on because ugh, I've seen this already, recently too — and 100 episodes allows for a roughly five month run without any repeats, making it very profitable. RWBY is obviously not a television show and doesn't benefit from any of this (hell, modern television doesn't benefit from this as much as it used to, not in the age of streaming), but the 100 episode threshold is still ingrained in American culture. Beyond just being a nice, rounded number, it is historically a measure of huge success and I can't imagine that RT isn't aware of that. Regardless of what we think of RWBY's current quality, this is one hell of a milestone and should be applauded.

All that being said... RWBY's quality is definitely still lacking lol.

Our 100th episode is titled "Dark" — keeping with the one word titles, then — and I'd like to emphasize that, as a 100th episode, it definitely delivers in terms of plot. There's plenty of action, important character beats, and at least one major reveal, everything we'd expect from a milestone and a Part II premiere. The animation also continues to be noteworthy for its beauty, as I found myself admiring many of the screenshots I took for this recap. There are certainly things to praise. The only problem (one we're all familiar with by now) is that these small successes are situated within a narrative that's otherwise falling apart. It's all good stuff... provided you ignore literally everything else surrounding it.

But let's dive into some examples. We open on Qrow starting, awoken by the thunder outside. Robyn has been watching him and makes a peppy comment about how none of them will be sleeping tonight, followed by a more serious, "Sounds bad out there." Yeah, it does sound bad, especially when they all know — thanks to Ruby's message back in Volume 7 — that this is due to Salem's arrival. I think a lot of the fandom has forgotten that little detail because people often discuss Qrow as if he is entirely ignorant of what is going on outside his cell. Even if we were to assume that he's forgotten all about the pesky Salem issue (the horror of Clover's death overriding everything else, perhaps) he still knows that Tyrian is running loose in a heat-less city with a creepy storm going on and, from his perspective, the Very Evil Ironwood is still running the show. So it's bad, which begs the question of why Qrow (and Robyn, for that matter) hasn't displayed an ounce of legitimate worry for everyone he knows out there. Thus far, their interactions have centered entirely around Qrow's misplaced blame and Robyn's terrible attempts to lighten the mood, despite the fact that a war is raging right beyond that wall. It's another example of RWBY's inability to manage tone properly, to say nothing of balancing the multiple concerns any one character should be trying to juggle. Just as it rankles that Ruby and Yang don't seem to care about what has happened to their uncle, Qrow likewise doesn't seem to care about what might be happening to his nieces. When did we reach a point where these relationships are so broken that someone can be arrested/chucked into a deadly battle and the others just... ignore that?

So Robyn's otherwise innocuous comment immediately reminds me of how badly the narrative has treated these conflicts and, sadly, things don't improve much from here. We are thankfully spared more of Robyn's jokes when Qrow realizes that what he's hearing can't be thunder. A second later, Cinder blasts through the wall — called it! — and Qrow instinctively transforms.

The only downside to this moment is that the whole ceiling falls down on Qrow and the others because APPARENTLY these cells don't have tops on them. Seriously. As far as I can recall we don't see the stone breaking through the forcefield somehow and this looks pretty open to me.

If it is... you're telling me these crazy powerful fighters who practice landing strategies and leap tall buildings in a single bound —

— can't just hop over this mildly high electric fence to get out? Qrow can't just fly away?

We're, like, two minutes in, folks.

We transfer to Nora's perspective as she wakes up, seeing Klein giving her the IV. He tells her not to worry, that "you and your friend are going to be just fine." What friend? Penny? Klein went upstairs prior to Weiss hugging Whitley or Penny crash landing outside. I had thought them bursting through the door with another unconscious friend was the first time he learned what the big bang outside was, but apparently not.

Penny is, obviously, a mess. While I now understand the choice to make her blood such an eye-catching color when that's crucial to the Hound's hunt, I still think it looks strange visually. Like someone has taken a copy of RWBY and painted over it. It doesn't look like it fits the art style. More than that, it implies some rather complicated things about Penny's humanity, especially in a volume focused around her being a "real girl." Real enough for Maiden powers, but with obviously inhuman blood that isn't even referred to as "bleeding." Penny "leaks" instead.

Toss in the fact that she's literally an android who is made up of tech — recall the running gags about her being heavy, or it hurts to fist-bump her, to say nothing of keeping things like multiple blades inside her body — yet Klein says that her "basic anatomy" is the same and he can "stitch up that wound."

I'm sorry, what? Whatever Penny looks like on the inside, it's not going to resemble a human woman's anatomy, and Klein might be able to stitch the outer layer of skin she's got, but that won't do anything to fix whatever metal bits have been broken underneath. Penny isn't a human-robot hybrid, she's a robot with an aura. Penny has knives in her back, rockets in her feet, and a super computer behind her eyes. When our clip introduced that Klein would be the one to help Penny, my initial reaction was, "Seriously? He's a butler and a doctor and an engineer?" But RWBY didn't even try to get away with a Super Klein explanation, they just waved away Penny's very obvious, inhuman anatomy. Yeah, I'm sure "stitching up" an android wound is just like giving Nora her IV. I hope the surgical sutures he used are extra strong!

In an effort to not entirely drag this episode, I do appreciate that Whitley is allowed an "ugh" moment about the non-blood covering his shirt without anyone calling him out on it. That felt like the sort of thing the show would usually try to make a character feel guilty about and I'm glad that, for once, he was just allowed to be frustrated without comment.

Then the power goes out and May calls, which raises questions about what state the CCTS is in and when scrolls are available to our protagonists vs. when they're not. But whatever. She's checking in because she just "saw another bombing run light up the Kingdom" and —

Wait. Bombing? Salem is bombing the city? I know we've seen explosions in the sky, but I'd always just attributed that to evil aesthetic. Why does this dialogue sound like it's from a World War II film and not a fantasy sci-fi show about literal monsters launching a ground attack?

May looks pretty against the sky though. I like her hair color against that purple.

I'm admittedly grasping at positives here because we finally return to her "You have to choose" ultimatum and — surprise! — May has pulled back completely. Ruby says that once they've helped Penny, "We'll...we'll do something!" which is once again her avoiding making a decision. Ruby still refuses to choose, instead falling back on generic, optimistic pep talks. They'll figure out how to stop Salem later. They'll think about the impact of telling the world later. They'll choose who to help later. Ruby keeps pushing these problems into the future where, she hopes, a perfect, magical solution will have appeared for her to latch onto. When that continues to not happen, others pressuring her to actually do something and stop waiting for perfection — Ironwood, Yang, May — she panics and continues stalling for time. Wait an episode and the narrative supports her in this.

Because initially May was forcing Ruby to decide. Now, May enables her desire to keep putting things off. "Don't beat yourself up, kid. At this point, I don't know how much is left to be done." That's the exact opposite of what May believed last episode, that there was still so much work and good to do for the people of Mantle. This is precisely what the show did with Yang and Ren's scenes too, having people call Ruby out... but then return to a message of, 'Don't worry, you're actually doing just fine' before Ruby is forced to actually change.

None of which even touches on May calling her "kid" in this moment. That continues to be a convenient way of absolving Ruby of any responsibility. When she wants to steal airships or Amity Tower, she's an adult everyone should listen to, the leader of this war. When the story wants to absolve her of previously mentioned flaws, she becomes a kid who shouldn't "beat herself up." I said years ago that RWBY couldn't continue to let the group be both children and adults simultaneously, yet here we are.

So that was a thoroughly disappointing scene. Ruby gets her moment to look sad and defeated, listing "the grimm, the crater, Nora, Penny" as problems she doesn't know how to solve. Note that 'Immortal witch attacking the city I've helped trap here' isn't included in that list. Ruby is still ignoring Salem herself and no one in the group is picking up where May left off, challenging her to do more than wring her hands over things others are already trying to take care of: Ironwood is fighting the grimm, May has gone off to help the crater, Klein is patching up Nora and Penny. Ruby, as one flawed individual, should not be expected to come up with a solution to everything, but she does need to stop acting like she can come up with a solution to everything when it matters most (office scene) and rejecting others' solutions when they ask for her help (Ironwood, May).

If it feels like I'm dragging the flawed, traumatized teenager too much, it's not in an effort to ignore those aspects of her identity. Rather, it's because she's also the licensed huntress who wrested control from a world leader and violently demanded she be put in charge of this battle. Ruby, by her own actions, is now responsible for dealing with these problems, or admitting she was wrong and letting others take the lead, without purposefully derailing their plans. She doesn't get to suddenly go, "I don't know," cry a little, and get sympathetic pats.

But of course that's precisely what happens, courtesy of Weiss.

During this whole scene I kept wondering why no one was celebrating Nora waking up, especially when Ruby outright mentions her. Have they just not noticed given all the Penny drama? Because Nora absolutely woke up.

Aaaand went back to sleep, I guess. What was the point of that POV shot? No worries though, she'll wake up again in a minute.

Willow arrives and announces that they can fix the power (and Penny) using the generator at the edge of the property. I'm convinced RT doesn't actually know what a generator is because the characters are acting like it's some super special device that only richy-rich could possibly have. Whitley says that it's the SDC executives who have their "own power supply" and that it's "extremely unfair." Now, don't get me wrong, a good generator powering large portions of your house can run you 30k+, but you can also get one that plugs into your extension cord and powers your fridge for a couple hundred. There's absolutely a class issue here, just not the one Whitley and Weiss seem to be commenting on. They make a generator sound like the sort of device that only a politician-CEO could possible have and it's weird.

Likely, it sounds weird because it's a choppy way of getting Whitley to bring up the wealth disparity so he can then go, 'That's right! We're crazy rich with a company housing tons of ships! We can use those to evacuate Mantle.' Awkwardness aside, I do like that the Schnee wealth is being used for good purposes, but... evacuate where? To the city currently under attack by a giant whale? In a RWBY that wasn't determined to demonize Ironwood, this would have been a great plot point during the office scene instead, with Weiss offering her services to Ironwood, even if the group decides that a continued evacuation still isn't possible.

Instead, we get it here from Whitley. Do I need to point out the obvious? That Whitley is the MVP of this episode? He's done more good in an HOUR than the group has managed in a year. Give this kid some training and make him a huntsmen instead.

We're given a (very pretty!) shot of the shattered moon because it wouldn't be RWBY if we weren't continually reminded that gods once wiped out humanity before destroying part of a celestial body... and absolutely no one talks about that lol.

Blake's coat might not make any sense for her color scheme, but it does make her easy to spot as she and Ruby run across the grounds. Oh my god, they're actually doing something together! It only took eight years. They even get a lovely talk where Blake admits how much she looks up to Ruby, despite her being younger, and once again I'm struck at how much more I would have loved this scene if it had appeared elsewhere in the series. It is, indeed, as sweet and emotional as all the RWBY GIF-ers are claiming... provided you overlook that this is the exact opposite of what Ruby needs to hear right now. She doesn't need to hear that she's more mature and reliable than her elders when she's functioning under a "We don't need adults" mentality. She doesn't need to hear that not knowing what to do is totally fine, not when that led to her turning on Ironwood, despite not knowing how to stop Salem. She doesn't need to hear that "doing something" — doing anything — is a strength, because Ruby keeps avoiding the big problems for smaller ones she's comfortable with, like standing by Penny's bedside instead of deciding between Mantle and Atlas. Blake's speech is heartfelt, but it's a speech that suits a Beacon days Ruby who is having some doubts about her leadership skills, not the girl whose impulsive — and now lack of — actions is having world-wide repercussions. Everyone is babying Ruby to a staggering degree. It's like if we had a med show where the doctor is standing by the bedside of a coding patient, fretting between two treatments. 'Don't worry,' their colleague says, patting their shoulder. 'I've always looked up to you. You'll do something when you're ready' and then they continue to watch the patient, you know, die.

Also: who does Ruby look up to? Everyone talks about how much they depend on and trust Ruby, but who does Ruby look to for guidance? A number of her problems stem from the fact that she has rejected the advice of everyone who has tried to help her improve: Qrow, Ozpin, Ironwood, even Yang. Ruby is presented as the pinnacle of what to strive for in a leader, rather than a leader who has only been doing this for two years and still has a great deal to learn.

Anyway, they get the generator on and the Hound shows up.

I am begging RT to just make RWBY a horror story. All their best scenes the last three years have been horror I am bEGGING —

Anyway, while Ruby waits to be eaten we cut to Willow and Klein, the former of which is reaching for her bottle, pulling back, reaching again, all while her hand shakes. This is good. This is what we should have gotten with Qrow. Which isn't to say that their (or anyone's) addiction should be identical, but rather that this is a far more engaging and complex look at addiction than what our birb got. Willow tells us that she doesn't drink in the dark despite bringing the bottle with her; tries to resist drinking when she's scared and ultimately fails. Qrow just decided to stop drinking after decades of addiction, seemingly for no reason, and that was that. Why is a side character we only met this volume written better than one of the main cast?

Blake manages to call Weiss about the Hound and she asks if Whitley can handle the airships without her. I mean, I assume so given that Weiss is looking at the bookshelves while Whitley does all the work lol. He makes a teasing comment about how he can if she can handle that grimm and she comments that they still need to work on his "attitude."

No they don't. Weiss stuck a weapon in her kid brother's face. Whitley made a joke. Even if Weiss' comment is likewise meant to be read as teasing, it's clear that we've bypassed any meaningful conversation between them. That hug was supposed to be a Fix Everything moment even though, as I've laid out elsewhere, it didn't even come close.

We cut back to Ruby getting thrown through a wall into the backyard and the Hound creepily coming after her. She's freaked out by this clearly abnormal grimm and Blake is weirdly... not? "It's just a grimm. Just focus!" Uh, it's obviously not. Have we reached the traumatized, sleep-deprived point where the group is sinking into full-blown denial? I wouldn't be surprised. They've been awake for like... 40+ hours.

Because the Hound knocks Ruby out with a single hit. Just, bam, she's down. "Focusing" is not the solution here.

Weiss calls to warn the others about the grimm, telling them to stick together. Willow (understandably) starts freaking out and flees the room (classic horror trope!). Klein is left alone when Penny wakes up with red eyes. Oh no!

Don't worry. You know nothing meaningful happens.

She shoves Klein before (somehow?) resisting the hack, her Maiden powers going wild in the process. Just when it looks as if Penny might cause some serious damage, Nora wakes up, takes her hand, and says, I kid you not:

"Hey... no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to do... It's just a part of you. Don't forget about the rest."

Okay. I want to re-emphasize that I love hopeful, uplifting, victory-won-through-the-power-of-love stories. Istg I'm not dead inside, it's just that RWBY does this so badly. I mean, what is this? It has similarities to the character shouting, 'No! Resist!' to their mind-controlled ally, but this is not presented as a desperate, last-ditch effort by Nora. She just speaks like this is the most obvious truth in the world. If you don't want to have your mind taken over... just don't! It's that simple. The problem definitely isn't that Watts has changed her coding and has implemented a command she can't override, it's that Penny has forgotten about the "rest" of her personhood.

And this works. Granted, not for long, but we leave Nora having successfully calmed Penny down and until her eyes unexpectedly go red again scenes later, we're left assuming that this is a permanent solution. That, imo anyway, is taking the Power of Love too far, overriding the basic reality of Penny being hacked. It’s not a personal failing she must overcome, it’s an external attack. I would have rather had Nora react to the scars she saw on her arm, or have a moment with Klein, or get some love from the group. Not a wakes up, falls asleep, wakes up again to save Penny with a Ruby level 'Just ignore reality' pep-talk, then back to sleep again.

So Penny isn't attacking her allies, or mistakenly hurting her allies with wild Maiden powers. Not that the group doesn't have enough to deal with, but still. Weiss arrives to help with the Hound and attempts a new summon, only to fail when two minor grimm burrow up into her glyphs. I really enjoyed that moment, both for the wing visual and the knowledge that Weiss' glyphs can fail if you break them somehow (which makes sense). Also, I just like that she failed in general? Weiss is, as per usual now, about to demonstrate just how OP she is compared to the rest of the team, so it was nice to see her faltering here.

The Hound tries to make off with Ruby and Blake does an excellent job of keeping it tethered. Ruby finally wakes, only to realize that the grimm is actually after Penny since it's staring at her power up through the window, no longer trying to escape. Moments like this remind me that there's someone on RT's writing team that knows what they're doing, at least some of the time. The assumption that the Hound is after Ruby as a SEW, the surprise that it's actually Penny, realizing it holds up because Ruby is covered in Penny's blood and Blake is not... that's all nice, tight plotting. More of that please!

The Hound drops her and Ruby's aura shatters when she hits the ground. I want everyone to remember this moment as an example of how strong the Hound is. The group may be tired, but unlike YJR they've been sitting around in the Schnee manor for a number of hours, regaining strength. We saw the Hound hit Ruby twice — once through the wall and once to knock her out — and then she falls from a not very high distance for a huntress, yet her aura is toast. That's the level of power and skill the Hound possesses. Decimating YJR, knocking Oscar out, same for Ruby, avoiding Blake and Weiss' hits, soon to treat Penny like a ragdoll. Just remember all this for the episode's end.

Blake tells Weiss she'll take care of Ruby, you go help the others. Yay breaking up the duos more! Bad timing though as the new acid-spitting grimm pops out of the ground and Blake is now left alone to face it.

Weiss re-enters the mansion, knowing the Hound is somewhere nearby, but not where. Suddenly, Willow's voice sounds through her scroll with an, "Above you!" which... doesn't keep Weiss from getting hit lol. But it's the thought that counts! Willow has accessed the cameras she's set up throughout the manor, watching the Hound's movements, and I have to say, that is a WAY better use of her separation from Klein than I thought we were getting. I legit thought they'd have Willow run away in a panic, meet the Hound, die, and then Weiss could be sad about losing her mom.

It does say something about RWBY's writing that this was my knee-jerk theory, as well as my surprise when we got something way better.

The Hound runs off, uninterested in Weiss, and she asks Willow to keep tabs on it. It heads for Whitley next (also covered in Penny's blood) and very creepily stalks him in the office with a, "I know you're here." Whitley is seconds away from being Hound chow before one of Weiss' boars pin it against the wall. He runs, then runs BACK to finish deploying the airships, before finally escaping assumed death. Goddamn this boy is pulling his weight.

I assume all these ships are automated then? I hope someone takes a moment to call May. Otherwise it's going to be super weird for the Mantle citizens if a fleet of SDC ships just show up and hover there...

I don't entirely understand how Weiss saved him though. She's nowhere to be seen when Whitley leaves and he runs a fair distance before he and Willow encounter Weiss again. We know her summons don't have to keep right next to her, but are they capable of rudimentary thought, attacking an enemy — and an enemy only — despite Weiss being a couple corridors down and unable to see the current battlefield? I don't know. In another series I'd theorize that this was a deliberate hint, a way to clue us into the fact that Willow, someone who we currently know almost nothing about, had training in the past and summoned the boar herself. Weiss and Winter certainly didn't get that hereditary skill from Jacques. Hell, we might still get that, Weiss reacting with confusion next episode when Whitley thanks her for the boar, but I doubt it. That scene with Ruby and the Hound aside, the show isn't this good at laying groundwork and then following up on it.

Case in point: Weiss says, "I didn't forget you" to Whitley after he gets away from the Hound, the moment trying to harken back to her promise to Willow. Key word is "trying." Because she absolutely forgot him! Weiss threatened and ignored Whitley until he proved his usefulness. I also shouldn't need to point out that, "Don't forget your brother" does not mean, "Don't let your brother die a horrible death by abnormal grimm." Weiss acts like her saving him is a fulfillment of her promise, rather than just the most basic of human decency. And also, you know, her job.

So that part is frustrating. The entire Schnee dynamic is a mess, from Weiss making a joke of her father's arrest, to Willow (presumably) fixing their relationship by putting a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Okay.

Then Weiss cuts off the Hound by summoning a giant wall of ice. My brain, every time this happens:

YOU COULD HAVE FIXED THE HOLE IN MANTLE'S WALL.

Moving on, Blake's fight against the acid... thing has some great choreography, including Blake using her semblance which we haven't seen in AGES.

I really like the fight itself, just not what Blake is shouting the whole time. "I need you, Ruby! We all need you!" This has really gotten ridiculous. Ruby is presented as everyone's sole savior despite failing time and time again. It's not that I don't think Blake as a character should have faith in her leader, it's that I don't think the writers should be crafting a story where everyone puts their unshakable hopes in an untrained, disloyal, impulsive 17 year old. I mean, Ruby is currently unconscious, yet Blake is acting like if she doesn't wake up — she, as an individual, if Ruby Rose does not re-join this fight — then all is lost. If Ruby doesn't save them, no one can. Which is, of course, absurd on numerous levels. Blake doesn't need the passed out, aura-less Ruby right now, she needs the still very healthy Weiss pulling out multiple summons and an ice wall! Use your scroll and call for backup again.

But of course, Ruby wakes up and kills the new, terrifying grimm with a single hit. It's a preview of what's to come with the Hound and it's just as ridiculous here as it will be there.

Speaking of the Hound, am I the only one who thought this was... cute?

I can't possibly be the only one. That head-tilt is exactly what my dogs do and my brain instinctively went, "Aww, puppy!"

Murderous puppy.

The Hound realizes none of the Schnees are who it's looking for and runs off. Penny, meanwhile, has been fully taken over because, well, that's just what's convenient now. She resists long enough keep Amity up, then succumbs, then resists to apologize to Ruby, then succumbs, then resists because Nora asked her to, then succumbs once it's time to knock her out. If RWBY was willing to commit to consequences, Penny would have been taken over and that was that. The characters would need to deal with whatever outcome happens as a result. Instead, the show very carefully avoids any of those pesky consequences by having Penny successfully resisting at key moments, despite no explanation of how she's managing that.

She shoves Klein again (Klein is having a Bad Time) and starts walking down the main steps. When Whitley wants to know where the hell she's going, Penny mechanically responds that she must "Open the vault, then self-destruct." I suppose the change Watts made was the self-destruct order? Ironwood obviously wants the vault open, though not necessarily Penny's death. Think what you will of his moral compass, she's a damn powerful ally — a research project, perhaps — and a Maiden to boot. At the very least, her death may give the powers to someone even worse.

God, please don't let them have brought Penny back and made her a Maiden just to kill her again.

The Hound arrives though and, as said, knocks Penny out. We're back to square one with her, then. Note though that this attack is near instantaneous. She grabs its hands one second, is hanging limply the next. Wow, the Hound sure is a terrifying antagonist!

Not for long.

"That's enough," Ruby says and one-shots it with her eyes.

Now, I want to talk for a moment about the implications of that line. "That's enough." Obviously Ruby is #done with this situation and emotionally unwilling to let the Hound kidnap Penny (congratulations, Nuts and Dolts shippers), but there's a meta reading here as well. Not intentional, but glaring to me nonetheless. Basically, the idea that the Hound has, from a plot perspective, done enough. It has served its singular purpose. It kidnapped Oscar and now it dies. Never-mind how insanely powerful we've established the Hound to be, never-mind how Ruby's eyes also work or don't work according to whether anything of actual import is on the line. From a plot perspective "that's enough" and the Hound can be disposed of instantly. It got Oscar and gave us an episode of filler creepiness. Move along now.

The idea behind Ruby's eyes isn't bad, but the execution absolutely is. RT has undermined a huge portion of the stakes by giving their protagonist an instant kill-shot that always works precisely when she needs it to. Starting with the Apathy, we have yet to get a moment where Ruby's eyes fail to save the day when she really needs them to, no matter how incredible the challenge. The Hound was very intentionally written to be a grimm outside of the group's current power level. It thinks, it talks, they literally can't touch it. This creates the expectation that the group will need to grow stronger — or at least become smarter — in order to surmount this new obstacle, yet Ruby's eyes undermine all of that. The group hasn't grown in years, the show just makes enemies weaker as needed (Ace Ops), or has Ruby pull out her eyes as a trump card. It wouldn't be that bad if we'd at least gotten a good battle out of it, one where the group gets close to defeating the Hound on their own, but needs Ruby's eyes to finish it off. Instead, she literally walks up without any aura, announces to the audience that this antagonist's time is up, and blasts it out a window.

Granted, Ruby's eyes don't completely finish it. The Hound pulls itself to its feet and we see this.

Yup, that's a guy and yup, those are silver eyes.

I would like to issue a formal apology to the "It's secretly Summer!" theorists in the fandom. I mean, I still think it would be ridiculous (and at this point highly improbable) that Ruby's dead mother has actually been a grimm mutant this whole time, just hanging out in Salem's realm while she waits for the plot to start before attacking the world, and then sends some no-name faunus dude after the group instead of their leader's mother for extra, emotional torture... but you all were definitely right about the “It's a person” part! I... don't know how I feel about this. Admittedly, it seems to be a logical continuation of the other grimm-human hybrids we've seen — namely Cinder and Salem herself — and it finally explains why Salem wants Ruby alive (even though it actually doesn't because WHY did she want more SEWs for Hound grimm when she wasn't even attacking back then? And already has all these other insanely powerful tools??), but at the same time, it feels like it's complicating a story that doesn't need further complications. The group fights monsters and has an immortal enemy. You don't need to add 'Some of those monsters are secretly human' to the mix.

It doesn't hurt that this twist is giving me Attack on Titan vibes, which, ew. A dark time in my fandom life, folks.

The Hound staggers a few steps before Whitley and Willow dump a suit of armor on it. That's all it takes to kill the most dangerous grimm we've ever seen: a single flash of silver eyes and some heavy metal. This also wreaks havoc with the implication that Salem wants SEWs alive because they create such powerful grimm. Obviously not. I mean yeah, normal huntsmen are going to have serious problems, we’ve seen that this volume, but any other SEWs nearby will take a Hound out instantaneously. For a villain with so many other powerful abilities — immortality, magic, endless normal grimm, her nifty soup — Salem would be much better served just killing SEWs straight out. Clearly, creating Hounds isn't worth the effort.

The Hound leaves some bones behind and Ruby collapses to her knees, overcome with the knowledge that this was once a person. Again, uncomfortable Attack on Titan parallels.

We finish our premiere with Cinder clearing away rubble to reveal Watts. Honestly, I like that we ended on this because her rescue is hilarious. She just slings him over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes and blasts off with her magic fire feet. Fantastic.

Note though that with this scene we've seen almost everything from the clip and the trailer. What's to come in the rest of Volume 8? No idea. Outside of Winter leading the charge with the bomb, we got it all here.

Time to update the bingo board!

I'm crossing off "Introducing new grimm that are quickly abandoned." Between the Hound and acid-dude both falling to a single blast/cut from Ruby, we've more than earned this square.

It doesn't look as if we'll get another Watts-Jacques team-up now that he's left, but you never know.

Maria's got me worried. I feel like her Yoda fight against Neo is the one thing she'll be allowed to do this volume, but given that we didn't see anyone except Ruby's group this episode, we don't yet know whether the story is now ignoring her and Pietro, or if they'll re-appear in another episode like YJR.

Qrow is free. Will he get a drink before trying to murder Ironwood? Perhaps.

Still no bingo :(

All in all, the episode was by no means horrible. I think there were lots of horrible parts, but also some legitimately well executed moments, fun action, and scenes that I can easily imagine as squee worthy if you lean back and squint. Everything is comparative and in the growing collection of bad RWBY episodes, this one isn't securing a top slot. Which doesn't mean I think it's good, just... not as bad as it could have been and primarily only bad due to long-running problems, not things this specific episode has done. That's my bar then, so low it has officially entered the underworld.

Still, RWBY is back and a part of me is eager to see where this volume takes us, for better or for worse.

Until next week! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps #rwby dark

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spilledreality · 3 years

Text

Games of Strategy are Games of Reading and Writing

Schelling defines games of strategy as any situation in which each player's best choice of action depends on the actions (he expects) the other player will take (and vice-versa, reflexively). This is in contrast to games of skill and games of chance. "Strategy," then, is the study of conflicting parties' behaviors as they are premised on "the interdependence of the adversaries' decisions and on their expectations about each others' behaviors."

We will call "script" a set of moves, from start to end, across a game. Games of strategy are definitionally marked by their lack of a player-independent & globally optimal ("PIG-optimal") script—that is, a script which will produce the best possible outcome in every game against every possible player.

(Or at the very least, these games of strategy have not had their PIG-optimal strategy discovered yet, so a successful move, or script, is functionally indexical—"indexical" as in, "player and context-dependent.")

When moves are indexical, it means that their efficacy depends on the opponent's future move(s). In "Rock, Paper, Scissors," no single move is PIG-optimal. The efficacy of playing "rock" fully depends on whether the opponent will play rock (resulting in stalemate), paper (defeat), or scissors (victory).

Strategy games span a continuum between cooperative and adversarial.

In games tending toward the cooperative side, it behooves players to be legible, and thus predictable. This is because, if any individual player's best move depends on other players' next move(s), then Pareto optimal aggregate play among all players requires players perfectly anticipating each other (so they are each, individually, able to make the best move dependent on each other). In a cooperative game of Rock, Paper, Scissors where winning consisted of matching moves (e.g. two rocks, two papers, etc), it behooves players to get into a rhythm, to repeat themselves, etc.

This goes some way, I think, toward explaining social customs and conventions, the inculcation of habit. It is a pro-social gesture to be legible, insofar as it allows other players in a social space to optimize around you. This reciprocal self-legibilizing allows for spontaneous organization, where sophisticated behavioral patterns emerge in e.g. conversational turn-taking, team sports, drivers who efficiently and safely manage an intersection with a broken traffic light, etc. Meanwhile, those who are unpredictable or illegible are "creepy," "unsettling," etc...

(Convention—settling on a shared script—is also computationally tractable, whereas assessing other players' next move in order to make your next move, when their move depends on their assessment of your next move, which depends on... is an NP-hard recursive problem. More on this soon.)

In games tending toward the adversarial side, it behooves players to be illegible, and thus unpredictable. This is because, if any individual player's move efficacy depends on his opponent's next move(s), then that player is disadvantaged if his opponent can anticipate, and thus thwart, his choice. For a competent opponent to know that he is about to play "rock" is equivalent to losing. So long as he can be anticipated, he cannot win, because in a game like Rock Paper Scissors, moves are fully indexical in their "quality" or efficacy. There is no "better" or "worse" move in a vacuum; only better or worse moves given an opponent's move.

Another high-level strategy, for adversarial games, is what I'll call "pseudo-legibility." This approach involves setting up an opponent expectation, by intentionally leaking information, or displaying a pattern, during low-stakes rounds of the game. Then, when a high-stakes round approaches, the player "cashes out" by breaking his pattern. Here he has flipped the script: by making himself appear predictable, he has in actuality made his opponent predictable.

For instance, a poker player may feign a tell, and then display that tell several times during small pots. Later in the game, when a large pots (and a good hand) comes around, he can once again display the tell, and lead his opponent to believe he is bluffing. At this point, he can just "take his opponent's money": he can "play" him by ratcheting up the bet and clearing house.

Note that there is in some sense a player-independent optimal strategy for Rock, Paper, Scissors, which is pure randomness. The problem is that pure randomness will secure a lower win percentage against sub-optimal players than a player-dependent strategy would have. Randomness is only "optimal" in that, if one has no idea who his opponent is, it is the optimal strategy. We will call this a player-blind optimal strategy, or PB-optimal. In a one-round game of Rock, Paper, Scissors against an anonymous opponent—or in a multi-round, blindfolded game, where neither player learns their opponent's moves (and by extension, the outcome of the round) until all rounds are over—pure randomness is the most effective strategy.

(This has something to do with "exploitability"—@natural-hazard has written that "Traditional game theory sacrifices any plausible yet uncertain edge you might have for the guarantee that you will never be taken advantage of." But I have yet to integrate this concept of exploitability into my broader understanding.)

One interesting property of PB-optimal strategies is that they are also the optimal strategies when playing against other PB-optimal players. That is, the PB-optimal strategy becomes more and more effective the better the players one is competing against. In a tournament of professional Rock, Paper, Scissors players, winners would be those best at cognitively simulating randomness. In a tournament of amateur Rock, Paper, Scissors players, winners would be those best at reading their opponents, at "playing the player."

(Also, in some meaningful sense, winners would be playing the room: If, thus far in the tournament, you've noticed that players are rock-heavy, you might be inclined to play paper OR, alternatively, hypothesize that, since other players have thus far had outsized success—premium returns—on playing paper, then a preference for scissors may be a successful tactic.)

Playing the player involves what we can call generalized reading. There are conceptual reasons to call it this, but the idea is bone-achingly simple: to play a player—to recognize his patterns and regularities, in order to exploit them—one must interpret the player. Look for clues, watch his face for tells, pay attention to how he responds to certain moves, or what biases or preferences exist in his play. And inevitably, if one plays with patterns, then these patterns are on display—all moves are publicly visible in their entirety by both players. One cannot play "rock" while hiding that one is playing rock. In this sense, information inevitably "leaks" in the process of play.

PB-optimal play, in other words, becomes optimal when player moves do not leak information. Only in the "blinded" version of Rock, Paper, Scissors can one "play rock" while hiding "playing rock."

In a game like Rock, Paper, Scissors, virtually all players are equally competent at selecting and deploying moves, conditioned on knowing what their opponent will play. (Each player knows rock beats scissors, scissors paper, paper rock. And each player is equally physically competent at using a given move; there is no level of skill that bars them from countering rock with paper.) Therefore, success in the game is one-to-one with success at anticipating one's opponent. This makes it an extreme case of strategic indexicality, the property of strategies depending on opponent strategy. But there is always, in games of strategies, an element of indexicality to a given move's efficacy—otherwise it would not be a game of strategy, it would have a PIG-optimal solution.

Randomness is PB-optimal insofar as it prevents the opponent predicting, at a rate higher than 1/3, what move one will play next. Illegibility is chosen deliberately as a descriptive term here: one cannot be "read" by one's opponent, when one plays randomly; there is no pattern to pull out of gameplay. It is ironic, and perhaps deeply important, that the strategy which is optimal when blindfolded is also the strategy which blindfolds (one's opponent.)

Pseudo-legibility, then, is a strategy of generalized writing. Insofar as your opponent is basing his moves on what he predicts you will do, and he is making predictions based on his interpretations of your previous play (including e.g. body language), then it is advantageous to present him with a false reading, a false interpretation. By planting such a false reading in his mind, one can thereby begin predicting his behavior while simultaneously remaining unpredictable oneself.

This occurs in situations of mixed conflict and coordination. When one feels like they have been "led on," or that they operated under a false impression, they feel they have been "played." They believed the Other was presenting—pro-socially and honestly—a certain pattern, and thus presented their own pattern pro-socially and honestly. This makes them manipulable to the Other, while the Other remains un-manipulable to them. (Because the Other's real patterns are unknown.)

Strategy games get weirdly recursive, in their induction patterns, because one is not modeling what "is" but what their opponent believes. Simultaneously, the opponent is modeling what his opponent believes. Thus, one must model what one's opponent believes one believes one's opponent believes... etc. The "level" at which this mutual modeling bottoms out matters quite a bit, insofar as a player who is thinking too many "levels" deep will mis-model his opponent.

In this sense, strategy games share many structural similarities with Keynesian Beauty Contests, the world of fashion, stock bubbles, sexual fitness etc. A female of a species inclined to find those males handsome which other females find handsome is, in some sense, looking for genetics that will produce a sexually desirable offspring, to the extent that the sexual taste of females in her offspring's generation can be modeled via the sexual taste of females in her generation.

Hyperstition is at its most effective in such systems. The difficult part is breaking inertia, giving the meme a kick-start. But once it picks up momentum, this momentum builds via the positive feedback loops of a Matthew Effect. The meme goes "viral." This is known as runaway selection, and it can come at the cost of an organism's non-sexual fitness. That is, in optimizing for some intra-species game, it becomes less optimized for the inter-species game. Which, of course, is the opposite of how these things are "supposed" to work.

I'll let @mclegibilist take it away, about how the socially valuable byproducts of strategy games are what we really care about, when we organize, host, regulate, and manage such games.

#keynesian beauty contest #runaway selection #hyperstition #selection games #strategic interaction #mutual futures moding #anti-inductiv #indexicality #matthew effect #thomas schelling #generalized reading #generalized writing

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i-see-you-now-you-see-me · 3 years

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Anyways, couldn’t let crazy Hendery’s personalities be the end of DYVLONY right? Here is the High Court Magistrate’s turn :)

Mending souls

(oneshot, can be read separate, included in DYVLONY series)

Pairing: Xiao Dejun (Wayv) x virgin Reader (Y/N) pseudo Anna

Word count : approx 7.5k, prepare to read under the cut

Warnings: not our shiny Xiaojun, but a bit darker version with a problematic need for all things neat, and hate for all kinds of body fluids... loss of virginity, first time sex (safe sex), some form of punishment, Xiao being a bit yandere.

Bill.

Another bill.

When does this end?

You thought to yourself.

College bills won’t pay themselves and the job you’d gotten at a local pub didn’t pay much either, the tips were mainly your income. So, when a job opportunity presented itself in a form of middle- aged man, you didn’t think twice, before agreeing.

A couple of dates every week, with a random stranger, but you’ll get paid for it, sounded ok, at that time. The job description however scared you a bit.

An escort.

A man or woman who is hired to go with someone to a social event- often used from escort agency services/ a person or group accompanying another to give protection or as a courtesy.

-Prostitution? – your college roommate Lea asked.

-No, not at all, - you stated, - I don’t have to sleep with anyone for this, not unless I want to, this company guarantees that I will be safe, they always provide a driver from their own company, who is near enough next to us all the time.

-Still sounds like prostitution, - Lea was a realist, she would say it for what it is.

-I suppose it is some kind of prostitution, I will be giving my time for the other person, but it is worth it, like the man sad, I would be able to pay college tuition, and we’ll have some extra left over, maybe we can both afford something then.

Lea sighed. Her job didn’t pay much either, and you both were struggling, but this was it, a job Is still a job.

-Fine, - she stated, - just be careful, alright?

You nodded and got dressed. Tonight, you will be a dance/music major, and you will accompany a businessman to a simple dinner. Yet, when your driver reached the destination as a five- star hotel, you felt under- dressed.

-What? – you sucked in a breath, - they told me it’s a small dinner.

-It is miss, - your driver announced, - only up to fifty people.

-Fifty? – your head was spinning, yet your nerves were somehow calm. You were not Y/N tonight.

You were Anna, art student, a confident dancer, who looks gorgeous in her outfit. Your driver nodded that it was the time, and soon you were inside the hotel, greeted by an elderly man, who was your partner for the evening.

-Miss Anna, I presume, - he extended his arm to reach for your hand, and kissed the top of your palm, - you look beautiful. My name is Sir Arthur de Clemence, I am a sponsor for many students over the country, and I am trying to attach more people to my fond tonight. See all these people, - he mentioned to the hall, - they have millions to spare, and with your help, I might be able to do that.

-Yes, sir, - you nodded, - I will do my best.

He nodded and you both headed inside.

A small talk with nearly every guest was your first talk. Flashing your best smile, you turned the conversations into- how small artists help locals survive in smaller towns and so on. It really was working, and by the end of the night, Sir Clemence was able to snatch at least thirty people on his side, all thanks to you.

When driving back after the event, your phone buzzed.

Your jaw dropped. You had just earned an amount that ended with five zeros in your bank account.

You ran into your apartment to find Lea asleep on the couch.

-We did it!!! – you ran towards her and jumped on top of her.

-What a, - Lea woke up from her slumber.

-We did it!!! – you shouted again, and Lea was wide awake now. You showed her your bank statement, and you both started jumping like kids.

-Oh my god!!! Oh my god!!! – she screamed.

-We have got to celebrate this!!!- you stated, and Lea nodded.

Weeks after weeks, the money kept going, your alter ego- Anna was who ever she had to be. A pro gamer, a barista, a literature student, even a stripper once. She was someone who was fearless, who would help you get through everything. To accommodate with your changes- you wore wigs, glasses, your lipstick was different for every person you played.

And after every couple of weeks, you and Lea got to celebrate.

-Did you hear? – Lea asked you, - Wanderlust club is throwing a party, wanna go?

You nodded. It was one of the coolest clubs there was, everyone wanted to get inside, and tonight you would.

As expected, it was crowded, people dancing, chilling at the tables, you both popped a champagne, drinking it ever so slowly, to feel the bubbles sliding down your throat.

-Is this what feeling posh is like? – Lea asked, you nodded.

-It’s just the beginning, - you stated, - I will be able to pay off my loan in a couple of weeks, and then we will get yours too, - you smiled, Lea nearly cried.

-You would do that for me? – she re asked.

-Always, you are my best friend Lea, I would do anything for you.

-Ah, you are making me cry now, - you both laughed and headed to the dance floor.

One moment you were next to Lea, and the next, grinding against someone’s crotch, feeling their hands around your waist. Once turned around you noticed it was an ex-partner of yours, who you accompanied a few weeks back.

-Mr. Roger? – you asked. – what are you doing here?

-Can we speak in private? – he invited, and you followed.

Once outside, he let you to the alley behind the club.

-What is this about? – you asked, - I don’t quite understand.

-Anna, - he started, - I have missed you.

His hands went to grab onto your waist.

-Mr. Roger, you should not be here, - hell, he was not supposed to find you, all your meetings had been confidential, without your real identity and all. – you should not be seeing me like this.

-I had to find you, - he stated, - I…. have been going crazy without you.

He reached for you once again, and you stepped back.

-This is not right, - you said, - I am getting back.

As you walked, his hands grabbed you again, pressing you against his torso, you kneaded him with your elbow and tried to get out of his grasp.

-Hey, - someone shouted, - what’s going on here?

You recognized him as the bartender from the club. He had a towel on his shoulder, and he was carrying a bin bag.

-This is not your business dude, better leave, - Mr. Roger spoke.

-He is attacking me, - you said, - get me away from him and if necessary, call the police, would you?

The bartender led you inside, giving you a glass of water and a pill.

-This will reduce your dizziness from the alcohol, - he stated and you drank without hesitation.

-Tastes funny, - you said, and somehow your words were getting slurpy, as if your mouth was filled with your saliva, -what is thisssss…. – you tried to ask.

-I am sorry, - he said, - I truly am.

You had no idea what had happened. Once unconscious, your clutch-bag had been taken away from you, and you were lying next to few other unconscious bodies, waiting for couple more, so the task would be completed.

Michel sighed, rubbing his eyes. This was wrong what they were doing.

His friend Jack on the other hand, had no issues with this. His mind was blinded by the money.

-Got one? – Jack asked when stepping in the room. Michel nodded.

-Good, good, - he patted the younger’s shoulder, - two more and we are ready to go.

Soon with nine other girls you were thrown in a van and driven away, a few hours later, tied in a spaceship, to be sent elsewhere, and later on, flying through the waves of different galaxies, till you crash landed on a planet, different from your coordinates.

* Planet DYVLONY 10043567901;1102033149001*

A gun was pressed at your neck, a sharp, stinging needle pierced through your skin, an injection that made you wide awake. You woke up with a groan while breathing in. The air- unknown and different, was burning your lungs.

-Her vitals are stable, - someone shouted. You felt disoriented.

The high court magistrate Xiao Dejun was watching through the glass, how all ten girls were injected a serum, vaccine, and a microchip, to help you communicate. Your naked body were one of the final ones, and for some reason he felt like a pervert watching you like that. Your body was beautiful, your curves in all the right places.

-Sir, - Dejun’s assistant spoke, - shall we get them ready?

-Yes, please, - Xiao nodded, - I will get Detective Ten here asap.

Greeting the detective as he arrived, Dejun led him through the doors.

-Don’t think of us as uncivil, - Xiao spoke, - since we don’t know why they are here, we cannot allow them to roam free, if you know what I mean…

The doors opened and Ten arched a brow. Dejun wasn’t looking happy either, but this is what they had to do, precautions, if you will.

-Greetings aliens, - Detective stepped on a platform, and started his interrogation. Xiao knew, Ten will get answers, one way or another, he was a Detective for a reason. – Have they been on drugs?

Xiao nodded to his assistant who handed Ten a file of information.

-The lab tried to make a sample from their blood, but couldn’t, whatever it was, didn’t last long in their system.

-Long enough to transport them to this planet though, - Ten stated.

Later behind closed doors both Detective Ten and Magistrate Xiao Dejun talked about what to do next.

-What did they say? – Xiao asked.

-We were right, the girls were not meant to be here, and they all are harmless, so we need to take action now.

-I know what you mean, - Xiao agreed. – what do you think we do?

Ten sighed and bit his lip.

-We should provide them with home, someone to look after them, - he started, - I can be one, maybe you?

Xiao nodded.

-What about the members of society council?

-Maybe, - Xiao spoke, - but I want to choose.

-Choose? – Ten asked, - ahhh, I see, - he smiled, - has one of them already caught your eye? – Ten winked and giggled.

-Ha, - Dejun poked his shoulder, - it’s not like that, she just seems to be the youngest out of all of them, so, I decided to choose her.

-If that’s what you like, why not, - Ten agreed, smirking.

Once at home, Xiao pulled out your file. It contained a lot of your photos, naked and dressed, from many different angles, information that you had given them. Anna. Your fake name, but no one has to know that.

Opening one of the bedside drawers, he took out a USB, attaching it to his pc. A video started playing and Dejun bit his lip. Choosing to remake the video, he started to work on it. He even re-made the sounds. Clapping his palm onto his other hand, which was formed in a fist, he made sex-like noises, and spoke into microphone.

-Ten, you have to see this, - he spoke, in the video Anna was crawling on her knees, grabbing onto Dejuns’ trousers, touching his cock, and sucking on it afterwards. – she’s a naughty girl.

He announced in the mic, playing forward the video, he made sure, that his partner indeed looked like Anna (you) from all the angles. No one would ever know. Xiaojun remembered the mess his partner had made after the sex, how angry he got, when she smeared her secret all over his abdomen.

Anyways, she got to sit on a bag of peas (a method of punishment used in schools, a long time ago, bag of beans or peas, since small in size would poke at your knees and hurt as hell,) after that stunt. Not on his watch is anyone to make him dirty like that.

Not two days had passed, when Xiao returned to the high court to pick you up. One by one you all got split up, taken to different peoples’ homes, to be taken care of.

-Hey, Suzy, - Xiao greeted, - I am here to pick up Anna, - he smiled.

-She is ready, you just need to sign these papers, - she handed the documents to Xiao, and he filled them in, simple questions of- does your house have a spare room and if you had already purchased clothing for Anna etc. Yes. Xiao was prepared.

You were shaking. This was scary. Who are you about to get? Yet you were the one who were hoping for someone nice, so you put your façade on, bringing in the person you are playing. Anna.

-Anna, - you were greeted by a female DYVLONY, - your guardian is here to pick you up. Follow me.

Once through the door, you saw a back first. Then the brown hair, a person wearing a suit.

For some reason, the person you pictured was Mr. Roger at your first meeting, you got goosebumps all over your body, and then he turned around.

You knew the guy. High court magistrate that you had encountered many times when you had just landed. He was with you when you were being examined. Behind his stare though, there was something else, he seemed like a nice guy, so you put your thoughts aside to focus on your travel to your new home.

Xiao was driving. So, you thought, to make things not so difficult, might have a chat, a small talk, just to get you going.

-What do you do for a living? – you asked, Dejun was very focused on driving, but he gave a small smile before talking.

-I work in the High court, - he started, - I am one of the magistrates there.

-I see, - you spoke, - so you assist in cases and all that?

Xiao nodded.

-What were you on your Earth? – Dejun asked.

You thought briefly, what to tell him, you were a student and an escort? Do you really tell him?

-I was in school, actually, - you started, - but I did various side jobs.

-Like what? – he continued.

-Uhm, - you bit your lip, - I was a bartender.

-Was a bartender? – he re- asked, - and after that?

Do you tell him? He might not know what it is though, right?

-I worked as an escort, - you spoke softly, more quiet than normal.

-So, what does an escort do? – he was curious now.

-Just, you know, - you breathed in a sharp breath, - like a person to be company for another person. Simple as that.

Xiao nodded.

-And you get paid to do that? – he thought to himself, you nodded.

-Yeah, see, a lot of people are lonely like that, - you stated, trying to figure out a way to change a subject. – your car is neat, - you nearly squeaked out a random sentence. But then it really was neat, there was not a single bit of dust, the cleanest vehicle you had ever seen.

Xiao flashed a smile. He was really good- looking, it was clear as the sky.

Once parked up by his house, he led you both inside the house. It amazed you how clean it was everywhere. You left your shoes at the hallway before putting on a pair of slippers, which Xiao had given to you.

The house was small, but comfy, two floors, by the looks of it. Xiao led you to your room, but you stopped by his room seeing how it looked like. There were various toys on one of the shelves, and it looked creepy as fuck.

-This is my room, - Xiao was right beside you.

-Oh, - you snapped out of your trance, - I’m sorry, I just noticed those… - you pointed to the shelves.

-I see, - he said, - let’s go, shall we?

You nodded and followed into your room. He opened a cupboard; everything was placed in it neatly. Socks, jumpers, underwear, you name it, he had it. All stacked up elegantly, nothing hanging about.

-Thank you, - you said.

-I’ll let you settle in, - with that he left you alone, only then you could get some time to roam through the cupboards. You started doing that when you met up with your clients back on Earth, some of them had planted microphones and cameras in their hotel rooms, so it had made you a bit paranoid. You had never told Lea that. As far as she had to know, you were always safe while at your job.

Xiao walked back to his room, opening his computer, he clicked send the video, adding a thumbs up, before getting back to you. You were literally roaming through the cupboards, half of the clothing now onto the floor. Xiao found you, arms deep in the drawers.

-What on DYVLONY are you doing!? – he shouted.

You jumped, landing on your ass.

-Ouch, - you shouted, swearing a “fuck” after that.

-Nope, - Xiao announced, went straight for you, grabbing your ear, while you grabbed his hand, he pulled you up on your feet, dragging you out of your room, down the stairs. You followed him with an “ouch” after an “ouch”.

Once in the kitchen, he sat you down on a chair.

-We don’t speak like that in this house, - he said, opening one of the drawers, putting a cloth on the table, followed by a box of silver cutlery. – and we don’t throw things around like that!

He stayed quiet. You didn’t quite get what he wanted from you.

-So, - he started, - I am giving you a punishment, - your eyes widened and heart- beat went up, - you will polish this, - he mentioned to the silver cutlery. You nodded taking the cloth in your hand. One by one you took out the pieces, wiping them clean, putting them back. Really there was nothing to polish, they must have been cleaned only a couple of days before.

-This is easy, - you said.

-Ha, - Xiaojun laughed opening few more drawers where you were greeted by a few more sets of silver.

You mentally face-palmed yourself.

-You will clean ALL OF THEM, - he announced.

-I’m sorry, - you whispered.

-I know you are, - he stated, passing you more sets.

A few hours later you thought your hands were to fall off. Clean. Wipe. Polish. Your stomach rumbled. Xiaojun leaned closer, next to you ear, his breath tickling your throat.

-Hungry?

You jumped back in your chair, your nape hitting Xiaojun in the face in the process. When he grabbed his nose, you went to help him.

-I am sorry, I didn’t mean to, - you said, nearly sobbing, he was groaning in pain. When he moved his hands away from his face, you saw the blood first.

-There better be no blood, - Xiao said, your lip trembled now, teary eyes looking at him. He walked away, upstairs, probably to the bathroom, while you fell to your knees, crying. He was angry, it was frightening. Most of the times the calmest people are the most scary when it comes to things like this.

Minutes passed while you were on the floor, until you heard footsteps approaching. Xiao leaned down, putting his hand around you to help you get up.

-I’m sorry, - you sobbed.

-It’s fine, - he replied, - let’s get you something to eat.

He sat you back to the chair, and when you saw his face, there was not a glimpse of blood or anger, he looked like before, the smiling court magistrate that you met before. You wiped your eyes in the back of your hands, and the sleeves of your onesie.

Throughout the dinner, you couldn’t face him, not once you looked his way. When you finished eating, Xiao took the dishes and washed them, drying them off straight away. You looked up at him, finally. He smiled at you.

The kind of smile that makes you warm. A nice smile.

-Shall we go upstairs?

You nodded, and he led the way, but to your surprise he stopped in front of the bathroom.

-Is everything alright? – you asked when he opened the door, he didn’t respond, but mentioned for you to walk inside. You stepped inside and he followed. There was a pile of bloodied tissue in the rubbish bin that caught your attention.

The next thing you know, your face is nearly in the bloody tissues, and you are on your knees.

-Who did this? – Xiaojun asked.

You couldn’t say a word, you were in shock.

-Who did this? – he asked again, pressing your head down more towards the tissue. You started crying. – who did this? – he asked the final time.

-I’m sorry, - you sobbed.

-I am not asking you that, - he said calmly, - WHO DID THIS?

Throughout your sobs and cries, you manage to squeak a very quiet “me”. He let go of your head.

-Me, - you said one more time, the same quiet like before, - I did this…

And then it was all too much, your cries, your feelings on high alert, and then… everything went black.

*48 hours later*

Xiaojun was next to your bed, sitting on a chair. The doctor had just left, saying that you must have had a couple of rough days, that knocked you out like this.

He was scared.

He did this to you.

You looked so peaceful like this though. He must have had scared you with his behavior. He couldn’t do anything about it, that’s what he does, he had been brought up like this, and so will you. You will get used to it; he was sure about it.

There was a couple of pills that the doctor recommended, and an injection, which Xiao was against off. He would not do that to you. So, pills it were, he just needs you to wake up, and then you both could continue with your life.

He waited an hour, and one more, and then he made you soup, then he was ready to wake you. Once he walked in your room, he noticed you were sat upright, looking disoriented.

-Hey, - Xiao greeted, your body pressed back, as if to hide from him, - it’s ok, - he said, - don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you.

This time, Xiao got on his knees, leaning down, asking for your forgiveness.

-I should not have reacted like I did, and I apologize, - he said, - I am truly sorry, I will try to take care of you like I promised, if you let me…

You nodded.

He got back up, bringing you some warm soup, and giving you water to drink the pills.

-Doctor gave these for you, - he smiled while handing them to you, - they should help, for the anxiety and stress that you’ve been through.

You nodded, pretending to drink the pills. When you thought he wasn’t looking, you turned your head to spit the pills out, but Xiao’s hands got to you first, his hand clamped down on your mouth.

-Swallow, - he said. – it’s for your own good.

You nodded a “no”.

-Please, - he said, - it really is for your own good. Please?

You swallowed the tablets, not really wanting to, but it was the only option for you. Only then, Xiao let go of your face.

-I know I scared you, - he said, - if you behave, it won’t happen again, ok?

You nodded once more. God only knew what he was about to do, and you? Would play nice, not to anger him. Oh boy, was it ever that simple?

Following days, he was at home. Both of you would have breakfast, then doing house- work, you would clean, he would do the same, you would watch him rearrange his toys, and then would be lunch, and every other day you would go for walks.

On this particular day, he took you to church.

You were greeted by a smiling pastor, who seemed off.

Once you sat down in one of the isles, you listened to what pastor Kun would be talking about today.

-Family, - he said, - family is only one, the one that we had chosen before we were born. Family is our beginning, and it is also our ending. Turn to your right, - pastor preached, - are you with your loved ones? Your friends are also your family. They are the ones who make you who you are.

Your brain gears started to circulate in motion. Family. Why is Xiao like this? There is something that must have happened, it’s your task to find out.

Walking back, you looked around, smiled at the kids who ran around, a simple interaction like this made you feel welcome.

-Tell me about your family, - you said looking up at Xiao.

-There is not much to tell, - he replied, - my father was very strict, my mother was too, they both were, but thanks to them I got where I am now. I focused more on learning and knowledge than running around with friends or girlfriends.

You nodded. Strict. That’s probably not the right word.

-Who made you obsessed with cleaning? – you spat out and then shut your mouth with your hand. Xiao stopped in his tracks. He looked at you, the deep orbs searching yours, as if he was looking directly into your soul.

-Why don’t you tell me your real name? – he simply replied, starting to walk again, away from you, towards the house.

-What? – you asked, going after him, - what does that supposed to mean?

He looked at you unbothered, raising his eyebrows.

-I know you lied about that; I am not stupid you know…

-So, what!? I lied… AND? – your voice escalated, - you have no proof!

Soon you were back in the house, behind closed doors, where no one would hear you arguing.

-And that Is supposed to make It normal? – Xiao talked back at you, - proof? I have called your name, and you have not responded so many times I started to think, that something is off, until I realized, that Anna might not be your name, that you might be a traitor, who has stolen someone’s identity.

-I told you I was an escort, you know what else escorts do? – you shouted, - I transform into other personalities, turn into a different person, to earn money. One day I can be someone to seduce you, - you stepped closer, touching Xiao’s chest, - a different time I can be your worst enemy.

You stomped upstairs, going in Xiao’s room.

-What do you think you’re doing? – he asked, going after you.

-I told you, I can be whatever people wanted me to be, so which me do you want? You chose me for a reason? And what is that reason, huh?

With a swift movement, your hands threw all of his toys on the ground, like a maniac, you threw every single one of them down, Xiao was screaming, while trying to catch you.

-What are you doing!? – he shouted.

-What you gonna do about it? – you shouted back, and it was like a switch had been activated. Gone was the calm and happy Xiao from minutes ago. Next thing you knew, you were on your stomach on the ground, your face pushed down into the carpet.

-What is this behavior? – he asked, pushing your face even more, if that was even possible. Somehow you managed to turn your face at the right time, gathering your saliva, spitting him in the face. Xiao jumped back. He looked so disgusted.

-What? – you bit back, - don’t like a bit of drool? You neat freak!

You were ready to make a run for it.

-I have seen the weird things you do, - you said, - you dislike blood and other body fluids, barely manage to live through the mess in the bathroom after I have had a shower with my hair sticking everywhere… yet you drink coffee and tea that contains grains, through a straw. What does it make you? You are disgusting!

Xiao pursed his lips, calculating what he will say next.

-I think that mouth of yours needs washing with soap, - he said matter- of- factly, - everything that comes out of it, sounds like a lot of shit…

When you understood what he was about to do, it was too late, he had grabbed you, pushing you into the bathroom, down on your knees, already next to the sink. Holding you in between his legs so you wouldn’t move, his hands gathering the liquid soap, trying to get it in your mouth, you were pursing your lips, trying your best not to open your mouth. His fingers blocked your nose, and you breathed in to get air back into your lungs, and Xiao pushed the soap in your mouth.

It burned like hell, your tongue tasted the bitterness, and your mouth was burning, tears were already streaming down your face, and your face was pushed up, Xiao was looking down on you, his face happy.

-Whose fault is this? – he asked, - I wouldn’t have to do this if you were a nice girl… right?

When you were sobbing like mad, he let go, and you spat the soap out, some of it had already went down your throat. Washing your mouth, you sobbed even louder, Xiao was still having a hold on you.

-Who are you? – he asked.

-My name is Y/N, - you spoke softly, tears slipping down your face.

-My classmates called me dirty, - he said, - so my mother made sure, I was not…

Back to your feet, Xiao had washed your face, made you sit on the bean bag, while he puts his toys back into place. You were still sobbing in between, while Xiao talked.

-I did choose you, - he said, - for my own hunger and desires. I made you someone else in my mind. I thought you would be different, once you would be mine, but expectations didn’t match reality, - he looked at you, - don’t worry, I won’t give you back, I intend to make you mine…

He smiled.

-What you do is not right, - you talked quietly, - you can’t make me yours, I should do that willingly, you punishing me is not right.

Xiao let out a laugh. He walked over to you.

-That’s the only thing I know, that’s how I keep control…

-When I was Anna, that’s how I kept control.

-See, we are not so different, you and I.

The after taste from the soap still lingered in your mouth. He was right in a way, and in a normal situation you would have ran away, but not here. As an escort you had come across a lot of broken souls, people who just needed someone to talk to, near enough like a next of kin, a family member who would listen to them instead of blaming them for something.

-I’m sorry, - you whispered, - your parents had no right to do that to you. I know, me saying this won’t change nothing either, but I need you to know, you can always change, of you find the right person.

Somehow those words stayed with Xiaojun. They made him feel weird. Change? How?

Hour after hour, day after day, and he still had not found the answers he was looking for. He walked home, leaving his car by the High court. Fresh air would help him think. Passing by the church, he made a d-tour. It’s like the god himself drove him to come to confess.

Inside the church, he sat in the cabin. Pastor Kun on the other side.

-I don’t know how to change.

-Why do you need to change? – Pastor asked.

-I have hurt the person I was supposed to care for, - he breathed in, - I shouldn’t have done that… she deserves more than that.

-Now the more important question is what are you willing to do for her to change this? Don’t you think?

-I know, father, but how do I change?

-Remember, when you are a child, your parents taught you everything… this time you both have to teach each other something, starting with small things, baby steps, smaller and then bigger. Slowly, you have to accommodate each other, start with trust, continue with anger issues, and so on…

-Yes, - Xiao said, - I will make sure she is cared for, she is loved, and I will make her happy.

Pastor Kun smiled on the other side. Xiao was a tough man, but he had a heart of gold.

-Thank you, - Xiaojun said, and then he left, going back home to you.

You had just made dinner, washing a pot, when Xiao’s arms trapped you in a back hug.

-I am sorry for hurting you, - he spoke, - I will try to master my issues if you’d let me.

You touched his hands with your wet ones. Xiao cringed.

-Let’s start with this, - you said, giggling, - fluids.

-Nope, - he tried to step back, - not ready for this, - but you didn’t let him. You turned around grabbing onto him and wiping your nose in his chest. – what the hell!!!

He was getting angry, but then he tried to suppress it down, instead of bursting out in anger, his hands grabbed your bottom. You thought, you might play a little, let some of that Anna’s personality slip through. You licked your lips, and Xiao raised his eyebrows.

-No, - he warned, - whatever you are about to do, don’t… - he warned again.

-Yes, - you said back.

-No no, - he shook his head.

-Yes, I have to, - you laughed a bit, wetting your lips again, and then you did it. Your lips reached his.

A wet smooch on his lips, the wetter the better, your saliva coating his dry ones. He had closed his eyes in the process. You leaned in again, doing the same over and over again. He was cringing so badly, you actually felt bad for the guy.

God knows, what his family had pumped into his system.

-This is natural, - and then the unimaginable happened, he kissed you back, his mouth drinking from yours, and your tongue asked for entry in his mouth, now both tongues touching each other, plenty of spit shared now.

Days passed. Just like this. You- trying your best to ease Xiao into all the things he despised, some even so ridiculous, and he kept warning you, that you apparently “make him angry” all the time. But it was not it. You started to develop feelings for him in the weirdest ways possible. Somewhat like a Stockholm syndrome founds its way through someone who has been taken against their will, your body grew accustomed to his needs and his wishes. During the day he left for work, and after work, you tried to tease him with all sorts of weird crap.

This particular day you were feeling hungry for his attention. So, you did what you do best in a situation like this- cause trouble.

You went in his bedroom and swapped over a couple of books. You see, a normal person would not notice shit, but not him. Xiaojun would notice that near enough as he would walk through the door. You greeted him when he came home.

-Dinner will be ready soon, - you announced.

-Ok, I will change my clothes and I will be down soon, - he smiled, touching your head and kissing your forehead. You watched him disappear, only to see him come out, - were you in my room?

You nodded “no”.

-Are you sure? – you nodded a “yes”, not saying nothing. He looked at you suspiciously, - is there something you are not telling me?

-I don’t think so, - you said, and walked back into the kitchen.

Xiao didn’t bother changing clothes, he went straight for you, pressing you against the kitchen counter.

-What are you doing? – he asked again.

-I don’t know what do you mean? – you faked innocence. He leaned in, his lips nearly brushing against yours.

-Are you sure? – he teased you now.

-Mmh, - you nodded. He giggled letting you go.

-You are making me crazy, - he whispered.

-I love you.

The three words that you were hiding from him all this time, managed to slip passed your lips. Xiao stopped in his tracks. What did you say?

He trapped you again in his arms.

-What did you say? – he leaned closer, and you were looking everywhere but not him.

-I…, - you struggled, his hand reached for your face, and he was holding your chin up to see into his eyes, his loving eyes, how he scrunched his nose when you did something to tease him, how his eyebrows raised when you pretended to be someone else, just to see his reaction, - I love you…

He smiled with his eyes, his lips widening in a grin, he felt like a douchebag, but he knew what was next for you both, so his lips touched yours in a loving manner, starting to kiss you slowly, just barely touching your lips in the process.

You on the other hand felt like you were thirsty, and you joined in, grabbing onto Xiaojun’s body, kissing him passionately. He put your legs around his hips, taking you with him up the stairs. His lips were now attacking your neck, and grabby hands- your butt in the process.

Once on his bed, he got rid of his jacket and shirt, leaving him in a tank top, and getting back to what he was doing. You stopped in between to get rid of some of the clothing, when he had left you only in your bra and trackies, his body was on top of yours, his lips returning to yours.

-Xiao…- you whispered, he looked up, - I… I haven’t done this… with anyone…. Yet.

He didn’t look surprised. For some reason he always had assumed that you hadn’t, maybe it was just the way he saw you at first, and then, he just never bothered to ask.

-I am ok with that, - he smiled, - only if you are.

You nodded eagerly. Minutes later, he had gotten rid of your trousers, your panties on display. His arms caressed your skin, he was extra gentle and slow, to prove that you could trust him, and he would only continue if you would nod or reach for him, which you did. Your hands found themselves in his hair, pulling him closer to your own hungry body.

His hands travelled south, slipping past the waistline of your underwear, going down on your sex, you nearly bit him, since no one had touched you there, this was a new sensation, and it was making your body tingle and your heart rate going up.

-It’s ok, I just have to stretch you a bit, if that’s alright with you, - you nodded, feeling how his fingers were moving up and down on your lower lips. You knew that he is not really ok with body fluids, but for some reason he didn’t mind your wet lips nor your dripping sex.

-I should ask you the same thing, - you giggled, getting more comfortable at his touch, he smiled back.

-You might just be the reason, why it’s ok, - he replied, as simple as that.

One of his fingers found your entrance and eased its way inside, your walls snug around it. You had closed your eyes; it was making you nervous and excited. While moving one of his fingers inside your tight walls, he soon added another one. You grabbed onto his arm.

-Give me a moment, - you whispered, the feeling making your head spin, - can… can I be on top when we do this?

Xiao was surprised. Not once he had heard a request like that, but he nodded anyways, soon you had changed positions, your legs spread over his lap, his fingers working their way inside your pussy, coaxing moans from you.

-Oh, don’t stop, - you whispered, biting your lip, - please… don’t stop…

And he didn’t, he worked hard to get you to orgasm, not slowing down till you came down from your high, now completely sat on his lap. His lips found yours. Tender lips brushing yours, quiet whispers leaving his mouth to make sure you were good.

When your hands reached for his pants, it was clear that you were ok to continue, and he let you play a little bit, his hand helping you work on his member through his pants.

He moved you off his body, so he could get rid of his trousers, his dick standing proud, a happy trail towards it that you hadn’t noticed before. You gulped. How is he going to fit? Like how?

Xiao got you out of your thoughts, with his own hand, returning to his member, massaging it, you felt your throat dry out a bit. Alright, watching a porn was completely different to what was in front of you now. Then the idea of a horrible sex scene found its way to your mind, and you had to shake your head to get rid of it. No time for that bull.

He reached for you, to kiss you again, then slowly moving back to the cupboard next to his bed, taking out a condom and slowly slipping it on, then sitting back down on the bed, helping you get on top of him again. He pushed you down slightly, so your pussy lips were grinding on his naked member, sparks of pleasure went through you. You looked down and helped him position himself right under your entrance. The tip of his cock was now slowly pressing into you, your hands were on Xiao’s shoulders for stability, grabbing a bit strongly onto him now.

Xiao let you move on your own accord, watching your reaction as you sank down lower on him.

-Help me, - you whispered, and he helped to push your hips down, his dick penetrating your virgin vaginal walls, and you sank down with a hiss. A tear escaped your eyes, Xiao kissed it away, his hands caressing your sides and your back, till you nodded with a quiet “I’m ok”. The stretch was something new, a bit painful, a bit extraordinary, if you could call it that.

Xiao’s lips kissed yours, then your neck and lower to your front, just above your breasts, his hand touched one of your breasts, groping and massaging, and his lips latched onto your nipple. Your head fell back, enjoying the feeling, and your hips started to move. The burn you felt in your abdomen, was slowly fading away, your vagina pulsing around Xiao’s member, and he helped you find a rhythm. You knew, you won’t be able to keep up for much longer, but you had to make sure, you were comfortable enough to give into him completely.

He let you enjoy your ride, but then he said:

-That’s it, - and with that he flipped you over, your body under his, - you had your fun… now it’s my turn…

The lovemaking sounds were in the air, with tender kisses, slow and sensual movements, his hand touched yours, fingers entangled with yours, and his eyes searched for your eyes, the feelings felt even on a higher level. The eye contact made it even more personal, not only because this was your first time, but it was also Xiao who made it special for you.

Changing the rhythm to faster movements, coaxing more moans out of you, that he swallowed with hot kisses over your mouth, he felt you tightening around him one more time, as you orgasmed, your lips not making a single sound, only when Xiao returned to continue his pelvic thrusts to chase his own high, you moaned and screamed, driving him into oblivion, and him taking you with him, your body convulsing and turning into a hot lava, bursting at the seam, while his hot seed filled up the condom.

He held you tight against him as you both were trying to catch your breath, he pulled out slowly, earning a whine from you.

-Let’s get you cleaned up, - he said, but you didn’t allow him to move.

-Not yet, - you giggled, - stay a bit more… - your body was sweaty, and so was his, and he was not happy about it at all.

-Y/N, - he warned you.

-Yes…? – you laughed again, - too much body fluid? – you giggled, earning a sigh from Xiaojun. – if we have a bath, I will want to make you dirty again soon after that…

You said that as a fact, and Xiao shook his head.

-Ok, - he gave in, hugging you again. – but only because you asked so nicely.

-See, it’s not that bad…

-Oh, it’s bad, - he replied, - and I am still not used to this.

-But you will be…? – you smiled, kissing him.

-I will be.

#wayv smut #wayv fan fic #wayv xiaojun #wayv #wayv xiao #nct smut #nct fiction #nct fan fiction #dyvlony series #nct xiaojun #nct 2020 #wayv fanfic #nct imagine #nct scenarios

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hysterialevi · 3 years

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Hjarta | Chapter 17

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A FEW MINUTES LATER

BJORNHEIMR

Sigurd dragged his feet across the uneven terrain, slogging through the dead woods that now served as Dag’s tomb. His hand shone vividly with a bright layer of red due to the blood that clung onto his skin, and his ears still buzzed with the echoes of his friend’s final cries.

As for Eivor, the jarl’s son appeared to be equally as harrowed as his companion. His eyes mirrored the frozen desolation of the bleak landscape sitting before him, and his face remained expressionless much like the corpses that now rested at Bjornheimr’s temple.

Both of them traversed the world like a pair of hollow shells, wandering through the dark in search of any light to hold onto. A black haze had blotted out the beam that once twinkled in their eyes, and it seemed as if the fire that once burned in them had been completely snuffed out.

Eivor just prayed this would be the end of their grief. It wouldn’t be long before they got the information they needed from Gorm, and the young man imagined they would soon be braving the seas again in search of the wretch’s father.

It was an endeavor that would only lead to more war, no doubt. There was a high chance that more people would die during their pursuit, and Eivor could no longer guarantee that even he would survive a second battle against Kjotve.

But after everything that had happened, he refused to shy away from this fight. Kjotve’s death wouldn’t bring Ulfar or Thora back from the dead, that much was true. But even then, Eivor hoped that -- at least -- it would serve as a balm to ease the pain now wracking his heart.

He didn’t even care about reclaiming his honor anymore. All he wanted was to bring this horrid war to an end. Far too many people had been lost to Kjotve’s barbarity, and Eivor’s only desire now was to deliver peace unto those who had suffered for so long.

It was something he was willing to die for at this point, and a part of him suspected that he would.

“Wait,” Sigurd said as they entered the village. He stopped in his tracks and gazed in the distance, looking towards the docks. “Is that Randvi’s ship?”

Eivor followed his line of sight, nodding in response. “Yes. Randvi and her men returned not too long ago. They arrived whilst you were dealing with Dag.” He paused briefly, giving the prince a grim face. “...I’ve already told her about Thora and Ulfar. She’s at the temple now with my father and Ingrida. They’re preparing for tomorrow’s funeral.”

“...How is she?”

“How do you think? She knew Thora and Ulfar even longer than I did. She... she’s beyond devastated.”

Sigurd sighed deeply, hanging his head low in regret. “...Damn it. I should’ve killed Dag weeks ago. I should’ve confronted him from the start. He had been acting so strange ever since we came to Bjornheimr. I shouldn’t have waited this long to do something about it. Perhaps none of this would’ve happened then.”

Eivor took a few steps closer to him, speaking softly. “You are not to blame, Sigurd. You had no way of knowing Dag was the traitor.”

The prince wasn’t swayed. “On the contrary, I was the only one who could’ve known. I was the closest one with Dag out of anybody in our clan. I should’ve been paying more attention. I shouldn’t have let my love for him blind my judgement.”

Sigurd shut his eyes for a moment and let out a breath, clearly exhausted from the day’s events. “...I’m sorry, Eivor. I know you don’t fault me for what’s happened, but even then, I still carry some of the blame on my shoulders. I must be more vigilant from now on. I can’t allow anything like this to occur again, and I won’t. You have my word.”

Walking away before the other man could respond, Sigurd left Eivor behind and simply pushed forward into the village, emerging from the forest like a shadow slipping out of the night. The despair that once dimmed his expression had been replaced with the flickering embers of a growing rage, and the Wolf-Kissed could almost see sparks igniting in his eyes.

As for the young man himself, he simply followed the prince from a distance and trailed along quietly, unsure of what else he could do to comfort his lover. A few of the villagers -- including Styrbjorn -- had turned their heads upon Sigurd’s anticipated return, and immediately brought their attention to the blood now staining his hand.

The color faded from the king’s flesh as soon as he noticed the striking pigment. He didn’t seem to understand what had transpired just yet, but the dreary cloud hanging over his son was enough to imply that something terrible had unraveled.

Styrbjorn approached the two of them, carrying a look of concern.

“My son...!” He called out, keeping his tone hushed. “Where have you been? What’s happened to you? Whose... whose blood is that?”

Sigurd exchanged glances with his companion, hesitant to answer. He didn’t appear to be any calmer than when Eivor first found him in the woods, and the younger man feared that it wouldn’t take much more to send him into a storm.

“It’s... Dag’s.” The prince admitted. “...I killed him.”

The older man fell into silence, taken aback by his son’s actions.

“You did what?”

“I had to,” Sigurd justified, steeling his voice. “Dag was the traitor. I had to get rid of him before he did anything else. I couldn’t allow him to harm more people.”

“A traitor?” Styrbjorn repeated in disbelief. “Are you positive? What makes you so certain he betrayed us? Did you find any evidence?”

“He confessed his crimes, father. He told me everything. Dag was the one assisting Kjotve. He was the one who informed him of our alliance. Ulfar was right.”

The king didn’t seem convinced. “I see. And was there anyone else around to hear Dag’s confession?”

“...No. It was just me and him.”

Styrbjorn shook his head in disapproval. “Then how can we be so sure that you killed the right man?”

Sigurd stared at his father in bewilderment, finally catching on to the man’s concerns. “...You don’t believe me?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, son. But other people may not -- and for good reason, I might add. You just killed one of our own clan members because of a confession that nobody was around to hear. Nobody except for you. How can I accept that as evidence? How am I going to explain Dag’s death to our people? How can I convince them that what you did was not, in fact, murder?”

Sadly, Sigurd was in no state to process things rationally. The king’s doubt only added more fuel to the anguish that was already festering inside him, and his temper quickly took over like a hurricane commanding the seas.

“You can explain to them that I just killed the man responsible for Thora’s death! I killed the man who would’ve thrown the rest of us to the wolves. Had it not been for that rat, this village would still be in one piece. Thora would still be alive. I killed him because it was necessary.”

Styrbjorn was quiet in response, urging Sigurd to fill the silence.

“You think I murdered him out of indulgence? You know how much I loved him, father. He was my brother! I didn’t want to see him dead. But I did what was required to keep our clan safe. I finished what Ulfar started.”

But the king had nothing else to offer other than criticism. “You acted carelessly, Sigurd. There is no honor in slaying a man who cannot defend himself. You know this. If you truly believed Dag was the traitor, you should’ve brought him to me -- not slaughtered him in the woods. I could’ve held a trial to determine his judgement. His crimes would’ve been brought to light.”

“You think we have the time for something like that? Dag may have been reckless, but he wasn’t a fool. If there really was any evidence to find of his collusion with Kjotve, he would’ve destroyed it. We’d be investigating for weeks, if not months!”

“And what if there is evidence? What if we discover that Dag was not the only traitor in our midst? What will we do then, hm?”

Sigurd grew irritated. “We’ll deal with it. Just like I dealt with Dag.”

Styrbjorn sighed in defeat. “You rely too much on impulse, my son. You cannot take matters into your own hands like this. If you are to wear the crown someday, you must learn to respect the ways of our kingdom. A good leader enforces the law with a firm hand, but is never above it.”

The prince didn’t take kindly to that. “You are the last person to dictate what makes a good leader. While I’ve been fighting alongside our warriors on the battlefield, risking my life, you’ve been idling with a bottle in your hand, watching everything unfold! You say I’m reckless, but who else is going to defend your kingdom if not you?”

The older man turned away in shame, causing his son to descend even further into his tirade.

“Killing Dag was the only way to proceed, father. I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other options, but we are at a dead-end here. You don’t want me to act like this? Then you can swing the axe yourself next time!”

Coming to an abrupt halt, Sigurd cut himself off and took a moment to glance at his surroundings, suddenly realizing just how much attention he had drawn to their argument. Everywhere around him, men and women alike gawked at their altercation with a blatant sense of fear in their eyes, alarmed by everything they just heard. Not a single word was uttered amongst the small crowd that had gathered around them, and yet, it felt as if their very thoughts lingered in the air.

Looking at his father, Sigurd stepped away from the other man and slunk to Eivor’s side, backing down as if he were shocked by his own behavior. He appeared to be even more devoid of life now that he had argued with Styrbjorn, and within moments, he was desperately searching for a way out.

“I... I need to be alone.”

In the blink of an eye, Sigurd removed himself from the vicinity and retreated to the longhouse, aching for the solitude of his chambers. He left Styrbjorn and Eivor with nothing more than the company of their own thoughts, and disappeared as if he were smoke being whisked away by the wind.

In the meantime, the two men simply watched the prince vanish in the distance as the crowd began to disperse, granting them the luxury of privacy they so fervently desired. A portion of them already felt somewhat sheepish due to announcing their troubles to the public, and frankly, the only thing Eivor wanted was to lock himself in his room.

Unfortunately for the young man though, Styrbjorn didn’t seem ready to let him go just yet.

“Oh, Sigurd...” the king muttered to himself. “When will that boy learn...?”

Eivor approached the conflicted man, attempting to calm his nerves.

“Forgive him, my lord.” He pleaded. “Grief has befallen Sigurd. He made a great sacrifice for us today, cutting down his own friend like that. It will take him a long time to recover from this.”

Styrbjorn pinched the bridge of his nose out of stress, pacing back and forth in the snow.

“I understand that my son was only trying to protect our clan, but I must ensure he’s prepared to inherit the throne. We are at war, Eivor. There’s no guarantee I’ll be around by the time Kjotve is vanquished. The dawn of Sigurd’s reign could arrive sooner than he expects. He must be ready.”

“He is ready,” The Wolf-Kissed reassured. “He just needs time to heal.”

The king halted in his tracks and glanced at the younger man, inquiring about one other matter.

“Listen, Eivor. I hate to ask you of this considering everything that’s going on, but could you speak to Sigurd for me? I’d feel better knowing he wasn’t dealing with this alone.”

Eivor raised a brow. “Me? Why not you?”

“You’ve witnessed firsthand the animosity that stands between me and my son. Very rarely does Sigurd ever greet me with a smile. Whenever we’re together, it always feels like he’s angry at me, or frustrated. And the worst part is... I can’t even say he’s completely unjustified.”

“What do you mean?”

Styrbjorn sighed regretfully, dropping his gaze to the ground. There was a clear rein of hesitancy holding him back, but he knew that in order to help his son the best, he’d need to offer his full candor.

“Perhaps he’s already told you this, but... ever since Sigurd’s mother passed away, I’ve found myself continuously drawn to the allure of drink. It’s something that’s haunted me for years now. I’ve tried many times to put down the bottle, but in the end, it always ends up trapping me in its clutches. I’m not proud to admit it, but it’s the truth.”

Eivor nodded in remembrance. “Sigurd has told me about this, yes.”

“I’m not surprised. He often speaks fondly of you. It’s clear you’ve gained my son’s unwavering trust. Unfortunately however, I cannot say the same for myself. My relationship with Sigurd has suffered due to my addiction. I have not always been the father he deserves, nor given him the guidance that he needed.”

The king’s stone facade faltered briefly. “It breaks my heart to consider it, but I fear that my own son views me as a nuisance more than anything. A lingering shackle that keeps holding him back. Sometimes I even wonder if the boy hates me.”

The young man’s expression softened with sympathy. “...No, Styrbjorn. No. He doesn’t hate you. Even Sigurd himself has told me that he loves you. He just feels ignored.”

That caught Styrbjorn’s attention. “Ignored?”

“Yes. The last time he and I spoke about this issue, he expressed that he often feels like you don’t heed his advice; that his words tend to fall on deaf ears. Sigurd wants to help you overcome this, but he says you won’t let him.”

“It’s... true that I haven’t always kept my promises. I cannot deny that. But this battle is not so easily won.”

Eivor gave him an understanding look. “And Sigurd is aware of that. He knows you won’t be able to discard this overnight. But he just needs to see that you’re making some kind of effort. That will be more than enough for him. Trust me.”

Styrbjorn took the man’s advice to heart and quietly thought to himself for a moment, evidently shaken by this revelation. It was clear that a part of him drowned in guilt due to the discovery of Sigurd’s frustrations, but a hint of relief also twinkled in his eye now that he knew the boy still loved him.

“...I see.” The king said sincerely, gazing at the young man with an immense amount of gratitude. “Thank you for telling me this, Eivor. The path to reconciliation will be one laden with difficulties, but at least I can see where I must go. I will think on what you’ve said, and I’ll speak to Sigurd when the moment is right. In the meantime, could you talk to him for now? I fear that my presence would only amplify his anger.”

“Of course,” Eivor said with a firm nod. “I’ll check on him for you.”

“I appreciate it. Stay safe, my boy. Our struggles are far from over. I pray that the gods will extend their mercy to you from now on, and that you recover quickly from today’s tragedies. Peace is a distant reality for us at the moment, but not unreachable.”

~~~~~~~~~~

THE LONGHOUSE

SIGURD’S CHAMBERS

Wandering through the longhouse’s dimly lit halls, Eivor followed the trail of torches as he made his way to Sigurd’s chambers, overwhelmed by the looming silence that was broken only by his footsteps.

The adamant walls of the building had blocked out any intrusive sounds -- including that of the howling wind -- and as a result, nothing but the low crackling of fire was present to accompany the thoughts screaming in Eivor’s head.

He just didn’t know how to feel anymore. When he first discovered Thora’s body, the agony that overcame him was so fierce it almost crippled him entirely. He felt like the gods had ripped a hole in the very fabric of the world, and the impact of Ulfar’s death only pressed harder on the weight that was already resting on his shoulders.

Still, he couldn’t imagine what Sigurd was experiencing. Even though Eivor was no stranger to the atrocities of war, he had never been cursed with the responsibility of striking down his own brother. The mere idea of putting himself in the same position with Randvi was enough to crush him, and he worried that the guilt would twist the prince’s spirit into something much darker. He just hoped he could help the man before it was too late.

“...Sigurd?” The Wolf-Kissed said gently, knocking on the surface of his door. “It’s me, Eivor. Can I come in?”

A soft rustle emitted from the inside, followed up by the muffled thuds of Sigurd’s boots. The door swung open after a few moments, and standing in front of him, Eivor saw the prince, looking somber as ever.

“Eivor...?” He whispered, still afflicted by the ordeal with Dag. “You’re here?”

“Yes. I know you said you wished to be alone, but... I was worried. You disappeared from our sight before we could even get a word in. I wanted to check on you. I hope I’m not intruding.” The younger man paused for a second. “...How are you feeling now?”

Sigurd’s gaze fell to the floor. “I... I don’t know, Eivor.” His posture slouched in remorse. “...I’m not doing well.”

“Of course not,” Eivor said in understanding. “Dag was like a brother to you. No one could do what you did and come out unscathed.”

The prince scoffed. “No one except for my father, apparently.” He turned away from the door and stepped aside, allowing Eivor to come in as he spoke. “Can you believe that man? We are this close to winning the war against Kjotve, and he’s more concerned about due process.”

Eivor followed Sigurd into his chambers, closing the door behind them.

“Your father just wants to make sure you’re ready to rule the kingdom.”

“Well, there won’t be a kingdom to rule if we don’t catch Kjotve soon enough. My father says I’m careless in my behavior, but I don’t recall the last time I saw him lifting a sword. What else does he expect me to do?”

Sigurd took a seat on the edge of his bed and sighed, completely drained of all vigor. “...I know I’m not perfect, Eivor. I know I still have much to learn. But everything I do is for the betterment of this clan. Why can’t my father see that?”

Eivor sat beside his lover, placing a comforting hand on his back. “He does see it. He may not be the best at getting his message across, but trust me when I say your father knows you have good intentions. He just worries that you’ll act with too much haste.”

The prince’s brow furrowed in curiosity. “Is that so? And what makes you so certain of that?”

“He and I talked after you left,” the younger man admitted. “He wanted to speak with you personally, but he thought that his company would only aggravate you more.” Eivor frowned in empathy. “...Your father thinks you hate him, Sigurd.”

Sigurd’s entire mood seemed to shift at the response, and for a split-second, it almost looked like he had completely forgotten about the rage he harbored.

“He does...?”

“Well, he suspects it,” Eivor clarified, “but he said that things are always tense between you two. There never seems to be a moment of peace whenever you’re together.”

The prince shook his head, eager to dispel his beliefs.

“...No,” he said softly. “No. I don’t hate him. I love my father, in fact. I just hate the things he does sometimes.” Sigurd leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I want to keep him safe like I promised my mother I would. It brings me no joy to see him endure any pain or hardship, but...” he let out a breath of frustration, “...he never listens to me! Whenever I try to help him, he only pushes me away. Once, I even dumped all our ale into the river to stop him from drinking, and he broke into a fury unlike anything I’d ever seen.”

A grip of fear took hold of Sigurd’s voice. “...That stuff is poison, Eivor. It’s going to kill him someday. The last thing I want is to see my father step into an early grave, but how am I supposed to help him when he won’t even help himself?”

Eivor brought his partner into a hug, allowing his chin to sit on the man’s shoulder.

“You need to be more patient, Sigurd,” he advised. “Ultimately, your father’s recovery is his own responsibility, but a hostile relationship won’t do anything for either of you. He’s still trying to move on from your mother’s death. Just like you’re trying to move on from Dag’s. Give him time.”

The prince let out a sigh and warmed up to Eivor’s embrace, finally cooling off from the heat of his argument with Styrbjorn.

“I... I suppose you’re right.” He conceded, turning to face the younger man. “...Okay, Eivor. I’ll try to make things right. Not just for my father, but also for you. I promise.”

Eivor smiled at that. “Good. It won’t be easy, I know. But it’ll be worth it.”

Sigurd sat up from his position and laid a hand on the Wolf-Kissed’s lap, diverting the focus of their conversation elsewhere.

“Anyway, enough about me. How are you doing, my love? I’m... so sorry about Thora and Ulfar.”

Eivor separated their hug and stared bleakly at the floor, trying to keep himself together.

“...I still can’t believe they’re gone,” he said. “I thought I’d be used to losing people like this after what happened to my parents, but it hurts just as much as it did all those years ago. Only this time, I feel like I could’ve done something. I wish I did.”

A tinge of regret blanketed Sigurd’s face. “Are you angry that I held you back during the holmgang?”

“No,” Eivor answered truthfully. “I know you didn’t mean any harm. You were only trying to preserve Ulfar’s honor, and to be honest, I’m grateful that you did. As much as I wish I could’ve saved that man, I’d feel even worse if he never reached Valhalla. I’m going to miss him more than words can describe, but at least I know he’s at peace now. At least I know he’s reunited with his wife.” A cloud of sorrow fogged the young man’s eyes. “...I just wish I could say the same for Thora.”

Sigurd’s nose crinkled at the memory of discovering Thora’s body. “Gorm is even more of a coward than his father. It’s a shame what he did to her. He will get the punishment he deserves, Eivor. I won’t let him get away with it.”

The Wolf-Kissed found some solace in the prince’s reassurance. “Thank you. I know there’s nothing I can do to bring Thora back, but it seems only fitting that the man who murdered her joins her side in Helheim.”

“And he will. One way or another.”

Standing up from the bed, Eivor straightened his tunic and inched towards the door, preparing to take his leave. He didn’t want to abandon Sigurd’s side just yet, but he also wanted to see how his family was coping before the day came to an end.

“Anyway, I’ll give you some space, Sigurd.” He said, pressing a hand against the door’s surface. “I imagine you probably want to be alone right now, and there are some things I need to take care of before the funeral starts.”

Contrary to his belief however, the prince didn’t seem to share his sentiments. “Actually, I’d like you to stick around a little longer. If you’re willing to stay, that is.”

Eivor halted mid-action, unable to hide his interest. “You would?”

“Your company is one of the few things that offers me peace nowadays, Eivor. If you want to take this conversation further, you’re more than welcome here.”

The blonde viking took a hesitant glance outside the door, still carrying the same concerns he had lugged around for the past two weeks.

“But what if someone finds us? Don’t you think it’ll strike them as odd that I’ve been with you for so long?”

Sigurd let out a fatigued breath, slowly rising from his bed. “...I don’t care anymore. All this death sitting on our doorstep has shown me just how precious life truly is. I have no idea if I’ll even survive this war, Eivor. I’m not going to spend what could possibly be my final days pretending that I don’t feel anything for you.”

He walked up to his companion, leaving no more than a few inches between them. “I love you, Eivor. And I’m not ashamed to say it.”

Eivor froze at the confession and simply stared at Sigurd in silence, entirely at a loss for words. It wasn’t too long ago that the prince nearly tore himself apart trying to keep their affair a secret, and yet, he was practically declaring his love from the top of the world now. He no longer cared about the rumors that would spread, or the judgmental glances he’d receive. He was finally done hiding, and Eivor wondered if it was time he felt the same.

“Forgive me,” the younger man replied, “I... I don’t know what to say. I just never expected to hear you say those words.”

Sigurd chuckled. “Neither did I. I used to berate myself without pause when I first realized I was growing attached to you. I tried so desperately to shift my attention to Randvi for the sake of this alliance, but... it never worked. Things only deteriorated for me, and as a result, my life turned into a never-ending battle. I was miserable.”

Eivor smirked affectionately. “And now?”

Sigurd returned the grin. “Now, I know what I want at last. I can finally see why the gods led me here, and I’m done pushing against this fate that the Nornir have woven for me. I’m done with living a lie. My only question is... do you feel the same?”

The Wolf-Kissed let his hand drop from the door and focused completely on the man in front of him, peering fondly into his eyes.

“Of course I do. You’ve always been there for me ever since you first arrived at Bjornheimr. The circumstances under which we had to meet will forever leave a scar on this clan, but I can say for certain that our encounter was a blessing.” Eivor beamed brightly at the prince, holding his cheek in his palm. “I love you too, Sigurd. And nothing will ever change that.”

Sigurd’s expression radiated with a vibrant joy upon hearing that, and he pulled Eivor even closer to him, gently pushing him against the wall. He pecked a small kiss on the younger man’s neck and held him securely by the waist, allowing himself to forget about his troubles for just a brief moment.

“Then let us cast away the burdens of our struggles for tonight, and cherish our final hours of peace together. The stability of this war is precarious enough as it is. If anything happens to us, I don’t want to leave this world with regrets. Freya gave you to me as a gift the day we met, and I don’t intend to waste it.”

Eivor closed his eyes in bliss and linked his arms around Sigurd, caressing him in his embrace. The prince’s touch soothed his skin like ice on a fresh burn, and for the first time in a while, he was able to let his mind roam free from its continuous torment. The bond they shared was something that provided Eivor with a tranquility unlike anything else, and he silently begged the gods to keep his lover safe.

“From here to Valhalla,” Eivor whispered warmly, “I’ll always be at your side, Sigurd.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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mego42 · 3 years

Text

Shamelessly stealing @foxmagpie’s monthly rec thing without the ability to get my life together to do these on a monthly basis so, seasonal recs! So excited to see if I manage to do this again with anything remotely resembling consistency but i’ve been keeping the notes for approximately 43 years (or since ~september, whatever that means) so by god i’m gonna use them.

found my thrill - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe

Turner POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

guys turner is SO OBSESSED with Beth and Rio

both canonically and in this fic

it’s gr9

also features a weirdly soothing and relatable cord untangling moment as a metaphor

truly disturbingly relatable turner pov tbh

relentless boomer disdain, always a plus

led to the creation of this monstrosity, not sure what kind of a monster would do that

War In My Mind - mintletters16

Backread!!!!

post-213, gorgeous character study

guaranteed to make you feEl stUfF

I really love the like, cyclical, fractured pattern of Beth’s internal monologue, it gives the whole thing a really affecting at times dreamy, at times haunted vibe

the end twist is *chef’s kiss*

mourning bells - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet

Backread!!!!

Later s2 era, Rio’s at a funeral, gets drunk and calls Beth

V short, kind of…..mmm, not sweet, but almost? Idk

It’s got a wistful sort of almost/i can be quiet with you vibe that i go extremely bonkers for

delinquents - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Lol are any of you actually not reading this yet?

g o d ch 8 where do i start

First off how ABSOLUTELY VERY DARE for the tragic angst that is delinquents!beth boland. This poor baby, this precious bean. MUST PROTEC

SHE’S TRYING HER BEST AND I LOVE HER

zero percent deserves dean’s clammy hands, no i have not forgotten, tattooed on my brain, will never forgive

I also love love love love LOVE the ruby/stan subplot happening

(and ruby’s mom!!!!!) (seriously though you write the best moms)

oh god and baby beth starting to have confusing feelings about rio?????? *chef’s kiss*

p sure i was just like, straight screaming the entire end of the chapter

the dugout is like, pure serotonin

I can’t even talk about the closet

tHe teNsiOn

thank you i will take eleventy billion

don't give it a hand, offer it a soul - medievalraven / @medievalraven

am a desperate heaux for any fic that features rio and mick friendship

you are all incredibly shocked i know

still would not be mad if this swerved into rio x mick fake dating but beth x rio is cool too i guess

Speaking of things i am a desperate heaux for: DIANE!!!!!!!!

and DATING ANNIE???????????? Blessed

honestly this fic is worth it purely for the assertion that mick watches queer eye

Why don't we go to Venus? - watermelonriddles / @bensonstablers

another grief study!

apparently i was working through some stuff in september, idk, that was like 4 years ago

considering it’s the premise of the fic, i don’t think it’s a spoiler to say this fic is canon divergent and working with the premise that rio killed beth in 302

he is uh, not coping well

extremely haunted you might say

lots of marcus and rhea which is a delight!

rhea is to good for him tbh

i said what i said

truly top notch dream (nightmare?) sequences

the conversation at the end is extremely uncalled for

drop the game - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet

Backread!!!!

Am going to die mad Beth and Rio didn’t hook up in 211 but luckily this fic scratched the itch

(temporarily, it’s a fairly permanent itch)

Bonus rec: missing scene series i wanna do bad things to you featuring 2x02 and 2x04

Viva Voce - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx

Whoops we woke up married Vegas shenanigans!!

So cute!!!!! So sexy!!!!!

What more do you want?

am desperately obsessed with how beth can’t help stalking rio

feels right, feels organic

this makes me feel a lot of stuff about how they could be without their canon garbage between them

🎶 we could’ve had it aaaaaaaaaaall 🎶

you showed me colors (i can't see them with anyone else) - gild_fire / @gild-and-fire

really into the use of color to illustrate beth’s emotional state, i feel like there’s a word for that but idk what it is

UNIMPORTANT

really nice job capturing beth’s inner vulnerability balanced by her outer stubbornness

am DESPERATELY into Mick playing matchmaker

more please???????

Both Sides of the Law - JoeyLee / @joeyjoeylee

LAW SCHOOL AU! I suuuuuuper love Beth and Rio here (alt pov!! a gift!!!!) I love how initially prickly they are, I love how it’s evolving into a grudging respect, I love how INCREDIBLY AND HILARIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER THEY ARE and neither one of them seems to see it

listen I know we’re all already foaming at the mouth over this one but as it’s gonna go down as one of my all time favorites it bears repeating/rereccing

cannot stress enough how masterful the use of POV is here, both voices feel completely true and distinct and I love how the alternating chapters revisit, reveal and emphasize pieces of each other

i can’t talk about this fic without hyperventilating

I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU GUYS

the slow burn is going to ACTUALLY KILL ME

rip, no regrats

Earned It - wakeupflawless / @wakeupflawless

spanking

that’s it that’s the pitch

H O T

living for beth’s exit in the first chapter, rio and i are both incredibly into it

second chapter also features violently possessive Rio who cannot deal with anyone messing with his girl so if that’s your thing boy howdy get on it

shake, baby, shake - openhearts

backread!!!!!

according to my bookmarks this was a reread but ???????

must’ve read it in the fugue state that followed reading for a moment we were strangers which is gr9 and I believe I have recced it before. If not, horrible oversight, reccing it now

beth and Rio POV lead up to the bathroom break, beautifully done, low-key feel bad reccing it bc the end point of both chapters makes me want to throw things but it’s super worth it for the tEnsiOn. ENJOY

What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have - flashindie / @pynkhues

I’m assuming all of y’all are already reading this

If not OH MY GOD FIX YOUR LIVES

P I R A T E A U

I’m sorry maybe you didn’t hear me piRaTE aU

meticulously researched, brain-meltingly vibrant, already painfully sexy slow-burning PIRATE AU

god where to start okay so first off, the world-building here straight up breaks my brain, sophie’s put in the work and it SHOWS

second, the atmosphere. i’m generally a pretty like, vague mental picture sort of reader but the sensory detail here grabs you by the throat and like, forcibly hauls you in whether your brain’s wired that way or no

and hey speaking of throats if you, like me, go a little funny about the knees at the idea of beth holding a knife to rio’s throat (he’s fine, calm down), there’s a v excellent beth-in-a-barrel moment for you

oh christ and the sexy tension

it’s gonna be a race to see which slow burn takes me out first, this or law school

Stunner - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Another high school AU, this time with baby Rio absolutely head over heels for his older sister’s bff

stunner!Rio has an emotional earnestness about him that I feel like delinquents!Rio has already outgrown and it’s so SWEET I can’t get enough

Desperately cute!!!!!!

alL he waNts iS foR beTh tO bE hiS girL

also unreasonably angsty???????

ANN ARBOR IS NOT THAT FAR MEGAN

A Heart's A Heavy Burden - tooshyforthis / @bathroombreaks

Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love Howl’s!!!!!!!!!!!

perfect opp to roast Rio for being a Dramatique Heaux

and it’s gonna be 9 chapters?????? H Y P E

author’s note boldly presumes I did not know I needed this AU when the reality is I did in fact know I needed this AU, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to deliver

so blessed

author also claims to not be team nose stud and yet it features prominently in all its magnificent glory

what is the truth dot gif

A Bit of a Stretch - septiembre / @septiembur

SO????? CUTE?????????

would be on this list for Rio calling Beth E alone tbh

really really really really really love this Rio POV of being settled into a relationship with Beth

It manages to be sweetly domestic af while still holding the edge that makes brio brio which is a neat trick

@septiembur may be a witch

beth’s approach to getting rio to do yoga with her is hilarious and exactly right, canon-typical amounts of subtlety

1000000/10

Post Break-Up Sex - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs

stg this was called Hit Shuffle

no matter

h O T

with a side of damn i’ve made some questionable choices in my life haven’t i introspection

(no regrats tho)

(esp not with this fic)

not the point of the fic by a long shot but i’m also extremely obsessed with Weed Eddie, so real

She drains my soul... she drains it not - niham87 / @niham87

ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT

am a complete sucker for paranormal world building that satirizes bureaucracy

Is that a trope? If so that’s my favorite

I did it. I’m picking a single favorite. You know what that is growth dot gif

ANYWAY i love the concept, i love the humor, i love beth instantly clicking with annie

I love her and mick’s sort of grudging professional courtesy

Love beth as a champion of environmental responsibility and all of the underworld being like …...okay??

cannot wait to see where this goes

Nine-Tenths - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

sometimes i think about rio putting beth’s hair in a ponytail and have to go lie down

science please explain why this rUinS mE

wait hold on i skipped ahead

HEY KIDS DO YOU LIKE UNBEARABLY CUTE DOMESTIC TENDERNESS

opens with rio sleepily holding beth’s hand to his heart so that’s the kind of thing you’ll be dealing with

uGH theY’RE sO CUTe

idk why precisely but rio adding hair ties to his bracelet collection is my undoing every time

Missed Call - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Rio doesn’t come home from a job when he’s supposed to. Beth (and I!!!!!!!) slowly loses her mind

Truly a masterpiece of rising tension

Will literally never forgive her for calling this light angst

I was SO STRESSED OUT

The first person to point out there was an author’s note at the beginning I obvs didn’t read is getting blocked

crush - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Listen even though this is centered around two OCs, they are OCs FROM a (n iconic) brio fic AND Beth, Ruby and Rio all make cameos (I mean, Rio’s pretty present since he lives in Mar’s mind rent free bc they are THE SWEETEST MOST ADORABLE BEST OF FRIENDS so idk if i’d call it a cameo but whatever)

and even if it didn’t feature any official GG characters I’d still rec is bc that’s mY SON AND this fic is TOO CUTE

I have so many feelings over mar and rio growing up and not knowing how to cope with girls becoming a Thing in their life and how it affects their friendship and mar feeling left behind but (SPOILERS) at the end of the story rio starts feeling that too and it’s so poignant knowing how that’s going to continue in delinquents

while mar may be my son, i also claim elena’s #1 stan status

before you’re like meg you’re only reccing it bc it’s a bday present ask yourselves do i really strike you as the kind of person that wouldn’t be equally obnoxious about this either way?

truly cannot fathom how hard i have fallen for these OCs i don’t normally do that

@foxmagpie is definitely a witch

The Ottoman - Niham87 / @niham87

look i will be the first to admit that i don’t go near as bonkers over the ottoman line in 308 as y’all do

(don’t get me wrong, i love it!!! I love that he laughs and i love that she’s pleased it just doesn’t hit my lose my whole mind button like idk, the dubby or the 306 convo, idk why)

BUT i v v v much love the context this delightful Rio POV pwp gives it

am also absolutely feral for 209 missing scene fic

and anything that captures the complexity of Rio’s s3 feelings for Beth and how twisted they’ve become

so this scratches a bunch of itches, is what i’m trying to say

Bet On It - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

That’s what my brain does when I think about Beth and Rio meeting in ch 1

am DESPERATELY OBSESSED WITH the tension between the two of them in this fic

I love how it plays with the ways they have to rely on but don’t trust each other

plus FAKE DATING and BED SHARING (fair warning hasn’t happened yet but the set up is there)

originally supposed to be 2 chapters, already up to 4, prayer circle it goes on forever

do you like drugs (tonight) - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe

v important focus on hydration, other fic should take note

extremely about the use of cut to and then flashback to enhance the ‘we were on drugs’ vibe

speaking of, beth and rio absolutely would take ecstasy to prove they are fun bc they are the exact kind of idiots that would peer pressure themselves

so glad beth kept her purse, got a bit stressed there for a second, clutches in that kind of circumstance are A Risk

not that i would know

FLAWLESS USE OF VOICEMAIL TBH

really love the ongoing denial that they are remotely into each other while proceeding to demonstrate how they are in fact, extremely into each other, great vibe

rio dances

I know my brain broke too

mmmm bacon

Navigate A Broken Path - flashindie / @pynkhues

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

I have a long standing tradition of getting unreasonably obsessed with side characters so i’m not like, entirely surprised by how obsessed i am with both Mick and Mary Pat but i never in a million years considered them as a ship

AND Y E T

they fit????? so perfectly?????? It’s amazing how she developes them individually enough that i look at them together and think ah yes this makes perfect sense for both characters

and they’re such an amazing foil to Beth and Rio?

can ships have foils? do i know what a foil is?

unimportant

GUYS you dON’T uNDERStAN d

hell i don’t understand

how absolutely very dare you make me care about YET ANOTHER set of gg ‘verse children

do not read this fic if you have no interest in feelings you zero percent asked for

wHA t hAPPeNED iN aLASkA?????????

A Moment’s Silence - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs

*makes sign of the cross*

y’all are gonna make me rediscover religion

extremely appreciate the author’s note approach to backstory top notch prioritization

listen it’s basically 3k of beth deep throating rio idk what more you need me to say about it

it is…..good stuff

bless the kinkmeme or fest whatever we’re calling it

praise - civillove / @blainesebastian

I mean you had me at “three times rio calls beth a good girl and one time he really means it”

ephemeral rio

I left that note for myself in here in the middle of the night and haven’t the foggiest what i was thinking but i stand by it none the less

okay okay i think i know what i meant, this fic (as do all of my fav civillove brio fics) has this sort of like, liminal, in the quiet moments feel to them that makes the moments and feelings somehow feel like i’m catching a glimpse of something secret and precious???

idk i just really like it okay

Heart and Soul - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo

oh look more unbearably sweet domestic tenderness, this time to music

thank you ma’am for my life

rio remembers beth used to play piano and gets her one and revoltingly cute shenanigans result

also hilarity

and sexiness

this fic has it all, truly

shout out to mick who sees no reason to keep rio’s feelings to himself

good girls tumblr fic - prettylittlementirosa / @hypermania

cheating and reccing a whole series

It’s my list and i can do what i wanna

stop crying about it, it’s four fics and they’re all AMAZING absolutely impossible to pick a fav

truly flawless characterization, next level ability to capture evocative mood, cannot get enough

three’s a crowd: who knew ballroom dancing while dean watches and grinds his teeth could be so sexy

(trick question everything about that premise sounds A++++ and boy howdy does it live up)

feel it on the way home: rio tries to break up with beth, it goes about as well as you’d expect

(thE angSty tenSioN)

i want to play the game: [from the floor] i’m still not ready to talk about it

(rio/turner, missing scene, 10000000% a taste of what went down in that hotel room)

june after dark: pitch perfect annie pov, really really love the take that Annie is the baby whisperer, can’t fully explain why but it feels incredibly right

(ANNIE X NANCY COULD WORK SO WELL YOU GUYS)

#fingers crossed these links are right i did not double check #i like to live on the edge #truly mind boggling amount of fluff on this list i surprised myself on that one #no i will not at any point get my shit together enough to write out thoughtful commentary this is a shit posting blog first last and always #fic recs #gg fic #nbc good girls #i'll come up with a tag for these if i ever do them again #check back 37 years from now #or ~~~~~~march #whatever that means

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