#Like I will make it a secret competition between myself and the other CHILDREN

[greatpretending]

I was just reminded bake sales exist. Maybe I shouldn't have kids. God knows I will take that shit way too seriously.

[ask-ikevamp-faust]

Darling, I’m more than happy to take responsibility for my actions. It’s precisely why I’ve teased you, so feel free to show me just how pent up you are.

I will have to apologize to poor Vlad, though. I didn’t mean for him to become collateral in our little competition. I’ll make him some sort of strawberry confection as an apology… perhaps a tart or a cake. Also, I wish you luck keeping Charles out while you search. He’s adorably persistent at times, almost like a younger sibling or inquisitive puppy. Perhaps I'll help you out and invite him into the kitchen to help me bake the treats for Vlad.

I must say that I’m excited to see your ideas for the collar; I’m sure it’ll be lovely. My favorite shades of purple are amethyst and royal purple. They pair nicely with each other and with your preferred blue, so we could easily incorporate our signature colors.

And certainly, to each their own on topics of kink. I'm not one to shame an interaction between consenting adults, even if the kink is something I'm not a fan of or don't understand. Regarding your color choice, my hair is already a light vanilla blonde, so it will fade nicely into the white color you enjoy. I suppose the most interesting thing will be seeing how the fur on the ears and tail matches with my curly hair. Hopefully, the juxtaposition won't look too odd.

If you're most comfortable with the tail plugs, then that's plenty of anal play for me. I’m certainly not opposed to going further, but I simply enjoy the feeling of fullness that comes with using a plug or toy, especially with double penetration. Exploring a breeding kink with you is a tantalizing offer and it would certainly bring us closer, but I don’t know if my sanity or bed frame would survive the ordeal.

Either way, You’ll certainly see plenty of me being motherly towards the children who visit the church. I love nurturing young minds and watching them grow into strong, independent people, so it’s not a surprise that I spend most of my time at the Church talking or playing games with the children. I’ll even let you in on a little secret: from all of my time I’ve spent working in emergency medicine, I keep a medical kit in my car and one with me at all times. I have plenty of adult bandages in those kits, but I also make sure that I always have a wide array of brightly colored kid’s bandages (currently Barbie or Pokemon) to make injuries less scary.

You're so frustratingly adept at teasing me and getting me to blush and ramble on like a stereotypical schoolgirl; you pull reactions from me that no one else has ever seen. To everyone else, I'm usually pleasantly calm and always in control of myself or an “Ice Queen” (usually to those who don't like me). I don't think anyone else would understand if you called me adorable in front of them. Some have called me terrifying, or “too smart for my own good,” but certainly never adorable.

I’m pleased to hear that I've occupied part of your mind, darling. I hope to keep tempting and pleasing you so that I never leave. I think our chemistry is so excellent because we are both almost forces of nature in our own rights; the perfect recipe to for us to intertwine and capture each other’s attention.

My little notes to you are certainly hints, and I could even give you several scenes to choose from across different forms of media. I've always been a fan of literature, art, and drama, so we have endless source materials. Honestly, with the somnophilia, I'm not entirely sure what would bring me to consciousness. I'm usually a rather deep sleeper; the only thing that can consistently wake me is the sound of one of the medical emergency alarms that I respond to. I suppose there's always trial and error to find out, but I don't think you'll be disappointed in that answer.

Oh, you've certainly chosen a wonderful activity to take an interest in. Halloween is my favorite holiday by far, and fall is my favorite time of year, so I'd be delighted to help you explore all the season has to offer. Some humans are easily scared, but I'm afraid that I'm not one of them. I tend to love all things spooky and macabre, but I’m sure you've already guessed that. In the spirit of the season, why don't I show you some of my very favorite horror movies? Scream, Alien, The Conjuring, and The Silence of the Lambs are all wonderful films.

Also, while I do love a good Halloween costume, I was simply referring to “dressing up” as getting ready for a nice evening out and wearing a more fancy or formal outfit than usual. I do love a good opportunity to wear my favorite dresses and see my lover in an equally handsome outfit.

- L

Hello my Adorable Queen, it’s been a few days. How foolish, I caused my own misery this week with my poor scheduling; I’m having withdrawal symptoms. I’ll have to rectify the situation by over indulging this week with you. That’s enough about me, tell me, how was your week? 

Come to my lab and I’ll show you; I’m sure you’d look great on my desk. 

Vlad is fine, I’m more concerned he enjoyed what he read. As for Charles, sending him on many errands keeps him busy, but also modern things have been keeping him entertained. If you’d like to help control him, I’m sure Vlad would appreciate any assistance. However, if you create anything in the kitchen, I want to be the first to taste it. 

This has prompted me to learn a new skill, I’ll admit it’s somewhat challenging; I want to impress you. When it’s done I’ll show you. 

Your hair is beautiful, I can already imagine the contrast and it looks rather cute. I’m not opposed to having a short-haired version of the set though so don’t worry; we can try both. 

Fortunately, you don’t necessarily need your sanity when you’re in my care. A bed frame should be the least of your concerns; I’ll buy a new one. There is no reason to hold back, let’s enjoy each other. I want to fill you up and watch you drown in pleasure, to see your eyes full of nothing except wild desire for me, to feel you shatter my complete control.  

You’re an incredibly lovely person, so thoughtful. Sometimes I think your heart is too beautiful for me, but it only makes me want you more. Being around your warm and nurturing nature brings a sense of comfort I forgot existed. Thank you for sharing your light with me. 

Knowing this makes our time feel even more special. I’m honored to be the one who can cause such reactions, your rambles are my favorite. All the expressions you make, your earnest interest, the changes in your voice while you ramble, the look in your eyes, your body language when you’re so invested in your ramble, your intelligence… all of it, you are… extremely precious to me; My Adorable Queen. As long as you understand this, it does not matter what others believe. However, if it will cause interesting reactions, I’m more than willing to call you many things in front of everyone you know. 

Oh my, at this point I’m sensing that one day you will occupy my mind completely. I’m not opposed to such a future… I’ll have to find a way to keep you with me forever. 

What are the top 3 scenes you’re most interested in recreating? We can start there and see where it takes us. Also, if only such an intense alarm wakes you, testing things out will be rather interesting. What would I be allowed to try while you’re asleep? Please share your hard limits with this experiment with me. 

Since fall is your favorite time of the year, do you enjoy the “pumpkin spice” theme that everyone seems to get excited about? I had a feeling you were one of the humans that enjoys scary things instead of fearing them. Are we only watching one film or are we doing a “movie night”? Charles has been recently obsessed with doing this, the issue is he falls asleep in the middle of everything and leaves a mess. Despite his invitations, I have yet to try this movie night thing, perhaps my first time can be with you. 

Oh I see, formal wear for a night out, this I can do. Truthfully, I’d love to see you all dressed up and having a good time out. Show me the things you enjoy in this modern time.

[thebearthatreads]

15 Questions Tag

Thank you to @keysandopenmind for the tag!

So for this one you can apparently answer the 15 questions either as yourself or as one of your OCs. I've decided to respond as myself as I'm in the midst on NaNoWriMo and still getting to know my new OCs.

Let's do some no pressure tagging before we hop in: @fleurtygurl, @cottonberryfinn, @thepitflower, @chauceryfairytales and @maskedemerald (as well as anyone else who might want to do it)!

15 Questions:

Are you named after anyone?

Yes! I'm named after a character in a book (don't ask me which book my parents don't remember).

2. When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday. I cry pretty frequently, tears just come very quickly for me and I feel emotions quite intensely. The reason for my crying was because I was emotionally moved whilst watching the latest One Piece episode.

3. Do you have kids?

I have a fur-child, does that count? Her name is Miley and she's an Alaskan Malamute cross who I rescued as a puppy. My partner and I are planning on having human children in the future but currently we don't.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

Yes, sometimes.

5. What is the first thing you notice about others?

Oh that's tough, generally it changes from person to person. Usually it's facially orientated but it can be other aspects. If someone has fun earrings I'll notice those first, if they have tattoos, piercings, cool clothing. Little signifiers of personality, that's what I notice first.

6. What's your eye colour?

I used to describe my eyes as kind of mud brown but they're actually quite pretty the closer you get. From a distance a dark walnut brown, up close more of a sepia or russet brown. Looking them closely in my hand mirror they kind of make me think of the crystal Tiger's eye.

7. Scary stories or happy endings?

A bit of both, I like scary stories with happy endings. But if I have to choose I'll probably lean more towards happy endings.

8. Any special talents?

No, I am decidedly very untalented... Although I can read tarot cards, I don't read them very often (I don't self-read) but the times that I have my friends have said my predictions were fairly accurate. I'd love to believe that means I'm a little psychic but it's probably just luck and guiding intuition from how well I know the people I was reading for.

9. Where were you born?

It's no secret I was born in Darwin, Northern Territory, Australia.

10. What are your hobbies?

Reading, writing, playing video games. I also enjoy walking with my dog, volunteering, researching different mythologies and history. I've dabbled with knitting, though it's taking me a long time to finish a single project because I keep forgetting about it.

11. Do you have any pets?

As mentioned before I have an Alaskan Malamute cross called Miley. My brother also has a dog, she's an Akita Inu cross German Shepherd called Akela.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

I am not a sporty person. I've done sports carnivals, taken martial arts classes, and I participated in weekly sporting events at University as part of our Res Wars (friendly competition between the different residential buildings). But I've never really played any particular sport.

13. How tall are you?

Uhh, I always forget my height. I'm about 5'2, so somewhere around the 157-160cm range I believe. Just tall enough to reach the top of my bookshelf, not tall enough to reach the back of the top cupboards in the kitchen.

14. Favourite subject in school?

English or history in high school. Criminal Profiling at University (it was a super fun and informative, I took it as an elective).

15. Dream Job?

Being a full-time author but that requires a lot of luck along with a lot of work. For now I'm pretty happy with the job I recently started working sales in a jewellery store, I'm learning a lot of fascinating things and have super nice coworkers. Still one day it'd be nice if my books provided me a stable income.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

A stupid game turned serious;

Honestly? Most shit involving The Knights (AKA, Camelot’s man-children) is something stupid turned serious (or occasionally, vice-versa).

In which King Arthur realises he barely knows anything about his manservant, and the knights want to turn it into a competition.

It started as all serious discussions start: a group of grown men hanging around in the middle of a forest, bored out of their minds. Obviously.

Alright people, lets do this one last time (except not really). 

The Gang, today consisting of Sirs Leon, Gwaine, Lancelot, Percival, Elyan, King Arthur, and The King’s manservant, Merlin, are in the woods doing... something. It doesn’t really matter what to be honest. Maybe a patrol, maybe a hunt, maybe a quest, maybe a picnic. Whatever the reason, they’re gathered around a roaring fire, darkness falling around them as they stare apathetically into the flames.

Gwaine finally decides that it’s time to break out his secret weapon, and pulls a large water-skin from his bag, waggling his eyebrows as he takes a gulp and passes it to Percival, sat next to him. Percy takes it hesitatingly, but smiles widely and takes a glug of his own after sniffing at the lid.

The water-skin gets passed around the circle, Arthur eventually asking:

“What’s in that then, ale I presume, Gwaine?”

Gwaine holds a hand to his chest and gasps in mock offense:

“Why Sire, you really think I, the noblest of knights, would drink ale whilst on the job?”

The others snort at his tone, and the obvious lie, and Arthur just raises an eyebrow as the water-skin finally reaches him. He sniffs it, and rolls his eyes before taking a swig, Gwaine smirking victoriously as he says:

“It’s cider, the very best. I was saving it as a treat for a rainy day and look at me, sharing it with all of you, I’m so nice.”

Merlin had been about to take a long swig from the skin, but grimaces as Gwaine says cider, and passes it over to him instead. Gwaine shrugs, not questioning it, but Arthur looks to his servant curiously:

“Not a fan of cider, Merlin? That surprises me, with how often you’re at the tavern.”

Merlin shakes his head, ignoring the tavern comment and responding with an easy smile:

“No not really, more of an ale person myself.”

Arthur hums thoughtfully, but doesn’t say anything, fiddling with his hands as quiet conversation flows easily between the other knights, The King and Merlin sitting comfortably in their silence. After half a candle mark of Arthur’s incessant fidgeting and soft frowning, Merlin thumps him on the arm, gaining everyone’s attention as he says:

“For pities sake, Arthur, you’ve been thinking for ages, it looks wrong on you, what’s got your knickers all in a twist?”

Leon and Percival are the only ones who manage to cover their snorts entirely, but Gwaine openly laughs at Merlin’s comment as Arthur briefly scowls before responding thoughtfully:

“You know, Merlin, we’ve known each other for ten years. I hate to admit it, but you probably know me better than anyone, yet I was unaware that you don’t like cider. It’s odd, how little I actually know about you, don’t you think?”

Merlin just raises an eyebrow, smirking as he says:

“I’m an open book, sire, it’s not my fault you never ask questions.”

Arthur huffs, and then does so again even louder when he sees the victorious smirk on Gwaine’s face:

“Why don’t we make a little competition out of it? Arthur can ask questions about Merlin, us lot have to answer. Whoever knows most, wins.”

Leon rolls his eyes:

“Wins what, exactly?”

Gwaine shrugs, taking another swig of his cider and snatching his hand away with a stuck-out tongue when Percival reaches for it with a pout:

“I don’t know, my respect?”

Everyone snorts in laughter and Gwaine huffs good-naturedly:

“Oh, fine. The chance to say they know Merlin best. Considering half the Kingdom likes him, and the other half loves him, that’s a fairly impressive prize.”

Merlin blushes and Arthur looks incredulous, but doesn’t argue when the rest of the knights hum in agreement and nod, as if Merlin being popular were the most obvious thing in the world. Gwaine grins, gesturing at Arthur vaguely:

“Go on then, princess, what don’t you know about Merlin?”

Everyone looks to Arthur expectantly, even Merlin, and The King throws a glance his way before sighing, and giving in:

“Fine. Lets start simple, what... uh... what is Merlin’s favourite season?”

Lancelot throws his arm in the air immediately almost yelling-

“Spring!”

- in his excitement. Merlin just laughs and nods, and the other knights sulk slightly at having been beaten before looking to Arthur again:

“...Right. When’s Merlin’s birthday?”

Everyone looks shocked at that, and Leon takes advantage of their surprise to answer smoothly:

“First day of the year. I mean no disrespect, My Lord, but how on earth do you not know his birthday?”

Arthur flushes as he looks indignantly back at his First Knight, his petulant tone making everyone else laugh:

“He never told me!”

Leon just raises an eyebrow:

“He never told me either, I asked eight years ago, and in return he asked mine, and we’ve exchanged gifts every year since.”

Merlin smiles fondly at the memory, and gives Arthur a sharp elbow to the ribs when the man goes to argue some more, cheerfully saying:

“First of the year is right. Next question?”

Arthur rolls his eyes, responding to Merlin’s jab with a gentle punch to the arm (or gentle as far as he is concerned) :

“Hmm. What... is Merlin’s favourite food?”

The knights all scramble to answer, but it’s Gwaine who shouts the loudest, standing up to make sure he’s noticed:

“Blueberries!! And strawberries!! Any sweet fruit, basically.”

All of the knights, even Arthur, look to Merlin in suspense as he thinks over the answer. He finally blinks in surprise and nods, and Gwaine pumps his fist in victory before sitting back down again. Merlin smiles and shakes his head, saying in a disbelieving voice:

“It’s kind of flattering that you knew the answer before I even did.”

Gwaine covets Merlin’s words, grinning proudly at the servant’s fond, though still slightly shocked smile.

Arthur rolls his eyes yet again, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention:

“Alright, alright. How many summers has he seen?”

~

The game goes cheerfully on for a while, long into the night, and it’s hard to say who’s winning. All (bar one) answer many questions, and they’re having so much fun (and Arthur is learning so much), that The King can’t bare to stop them. He doesn’t think anyone will mind the exhaustion tomorrow.

Eventually, all (bar one) are asking Merlin questions, and all (bar one) are answering them, though Arthur is growing mildly embarrassed at his lack of general knowledge on the man he’s seen everyday for ten years.

The game turns a little sombre, when Arthur clears his throat and asks the circle:

“What does Merlin know of his father?”

As far as Arthur was aware, it wasn’t a sensitive topic for Merlin; his father had come up briefly in conversation a few times years ago, and Merlin had never seemed bothered, but those few short conversations hadn’t actually told Arthur anything about the man, and he was curious to see if his servant had confided in any of the others.

Lancelot looked shocked at Arthur’s query, but the others just look around the circle blankly, realising that no one knew the answer. For some reason, Arthur had to resist the urge to smile victoriously at that. After a few moments, Leon shrugged, looking to Merlin with a questioning expression.

Merlin gave the knights a tight smile before answering quietly:

“Met him for the first time a few years ago, he died almost immediately. Only got a couple days with him.”

Lancelot gritted his teeth, reining in the glare that he wanted to send Arthur’s way as The King stares at his manservant in shock. Merlin keeps his gaze trained on the ground, even as Arthur quietly apologises. Leon clears his throat, and Merlin gives him a slightly easier smile, gesturing for him to continue at the knight’s questioning look:

“I have a good one. Has Merlin ever been in love?”

Merlin takes in a quiet gasp, but no one notices as a few of them begin talking over one another. Gwaine is the loudest (as per normal), shouting-

“With me, of course.”

-and sending a wink Merlin’s way. He quickly drops his playful smirk when he sees Merlin’s barely concealed sorrow, but before he can ask what’s wrong, Arthur scoffs, and answers:

“Ok, even I can answer that one. No, Merlin has never been in love.”

Merlin scowls briefly before schooling his face into something a little more blank, answering in a monotone voice:

“Once, a long time ago.”

Arthur looks taken aback, and all the knights (bar Lancelot, who is looking more and more distraught at the topic, having been briefly told of Freya) lean in curiously. The King rolls his eyes and smirks:

“Fine, going by your morose expression, I’m guessing it was either unrequited, or they left you, so which was it, Merlin?”

Lancelot looks to him sharply, grinding out his name in a whispered, though horrified tone. Before he can reply, or even blink to be honest, Merlin waves a hand dismissively in Lance’s direction, staring at his fiddling hands as he quietly answers:

“Neither, she... she died, actually.”

The intake of breath of everyone else in the circle is audible, and Merlin looks up, not meeting anyone’s eyes, but giving them a mournful smile. Leon gulps, frowning in concern as he gently asks:

“What happened? If you don’t mind us asking, of course?”

Merlin’s expression changes to that of assessment, and the knights wait with baited breath as he gazes at each of them in turn, Lancelot quietly saying:

“You don’t have to, Merlin, it’s fine.”

Merlin shakes his head slightly before taking a deep breath and sitting up straight, answering Leon’s question:

“She was a non-practicing Druid, kidnapped from outside of Camelot by some bounty hunter looking for easy money and dragged here for the reward.-”

A few quiet breaths are taken in at Merlin’s admission of falling in love with a Druid, but no one interrupts him:

“-I felt bad for her, helped her escape. I hid her for a while, kept her safe, did the whole... falling in love thing.-”

His eyes go glassy and he stares into the middle distance as he continues, tears gathering but not quite falling:

“-We were going to run away together, build a home on the shores of a lake with mountains and trees nearby; grow our own food.-”

Merlin gulps, taking a deep breath as he begins fiddling with the hem of his tunic slightly:

“-But something went wrong, she was found, chased by knights. I caused a... distraction, helped her escape again, but not before she gained a fatal blow. I got her out of the city, but the wound was too serious; I didn’t have any of my equipment with me and there was no one nearby who could help. She... she bled out.”

He finishes in almost a whisper and he quickly wipes away the lone tear on his cheek, sniffling slightly before he looks up to the shocked knights again, a fake smile on his face:

“Not the happiest story, I know.”

Arthur shakes his head slightly, staring at Merlin with wide eyes as he murmurs:

“Merlin... how did I not know about this?”

In a moment of weakness, Merlin is almost tempted to tell him the truth, tell everyone, that Arthur was the one who killed her, that Merlin had to clean her blood from his sword the next day with a smile on his face, but he quells the urge, giving him a weak smile and a pat on the leg:

“Because I didn’t tell you. It’s understandably not something I’m fond of talking about.”

Arthur nods gently, wiping the frown from his face as he pats his manservant awkwardly on the shoulder, not knowing quite what to do. Gwaine clears his throat, and quietly asks:

“What was her name?”

Merlin smiles, and the others are grateful to see that it’s real. Sad, but real. Lancelot stays quiet; he knows the answer, but he also knows that this is less about Gwaine’s stupid competition, and more about Merlin’s friends wanting to know him:

“Freya. Her name was Freya. I laid her to rest in a lake not too far from the city limits. I can take a little peace, some days, knowing that she ended up exactly where she wanted to, in the end.”

Leon nods knowingly, a soft smile on his face as he murmurs:

“Freya. It’s a beautiful name.”

Merlin’s smile grows and he nods his agreement, before blinking the memories from his eyes and clapping his hands:

“Come on, that’s enough of that moroseness, next question.”

~

And so, it continues even further, all the knights (bar one) asking questions; some generic: “name of Merlin’s childhood best friend?” (Arthur knew the correct response, but stayed quiet, the guilt just a little too much as he lets Gwaine answer instead), and some a little more specific: “Would Merlin rather live on the bottom of the ocean, or above the clouds?” (They all shouted guesses, and Merlin decided that, in the end, he’d rather live above the clouds with his namesakes).

Though eventually, hours and maybe hundreds of questions in to the game, Elyan holds a hand up, drawing everyone’s attention as he clears his throat:

“I’ve noticed, Percy, that you have neither asked anything, or answered anything. I know that you know at least a few of the answers, so what gives?”

Everyone looks to the gentle giant curiously, thinking back on the game and realising that Elyan is right; he hadn’t said a word since they started.

Percival gives Merlin an odd look for just a fraction of a second, before schooling his face into a smile and looking at the others with a raised eyebrow:

“It’s fun watching you lot scramble. I already know Merlin, I don’t need to win some competition.”

Elyan rolls his eyes fondly, but Gwaine pouts:

“Come on, Percy, there must be something you want to know. Anything, come on?”

Percival hums as he stares into his lap, before looking up at Merlin again, that strange look back on his face. Merlin tilts his head (though his face remains blank), at the man’s expression; an odd mix of challenging and anxious and knowing.

The knight clears his throat, muttering almost to himself:

“Maybe one thing.”

Merlin raises an (almost condescending?) eyebrow, and Gwaine pats Percival on the back encouragingly. The giant takes a few more moments, staring at Merlin assessingly, before he nods, and asks his first question:

“Do the Gods hear our prayers?”

Everyone is taken aback at that, but Percival doesn’t break the stare he has with Merlin. The servant looks a little nervous at first, and glances at Arthur quickly before turning his gaze back to Percival, his expression schooling itself back into neutrality. The knights stay silent, just figuring it was an odd man’s way of asking whether Merlin was religious or not, which surprisingly none of them know the answer to.

Merlin is obviously considering the question, and Lancelot is the only one to notice the way his eyes harden as he makes a decision. The corner of Merlin’s mouth ticks upwards in an almost imperceptible smirk (the servant is surprised at his own confidence, but hey-ho, he isn’t going to question it), before it falls down again and he answers, his one-word response firm, but quiet:

“Yes.”

Percival nods slowly, his expression not changing and his gaze not wavering as the other knights stare on, well and truly befuddled:

“Then why don’t They answer? Thousands of voices all crying out in agony, pleading for help, for mercy. How can They hear that and not answer?”

Merlin takes a deep breath and tilts his head, forgetting all around him bar Percival, his answer falling from his lips in a tone that was just slightly biting:

“They did answer. They just answered in the way that most benefitted Them. They don’t pay attention to the sacrifices made in the mean time, as long as They get what They want in the end. Do you honestly think They care about the suffering of mortals?”

Percival clenches his jaw, as if he were expecting that answer but isn’t any less disheartened to hear it said out loud, but he still doesn’t look away, not even at Merlin’s harsh, blank stare, or his forceful, bitter voice. His voice almost shakes in his response:

“And you? Do you care?”

The other knights are too confused by this conversation to say anything, all staring on in bewilderment, perhaps thinking they had had too much to drink. Lancelot is starting to realise with numb horror what might be happening, and glances rapidly between the two oblivious men.

At Percival’s question, Merlin smirks openly, his expression somehow dangerous and mournful as he glances to his lap, before staring back up at the knight again:

“A tool can hate those that use it, and still be willing to be used.”

Percival frowns slightly:

“And whose tool do you see yourself as? The Gods, or humanity?”

Merlin tilts his head, his smirk leaning slightly more to the dangerous side as the knights continue to listen in on the confusing conversation, starting to think that maybe it wasn’t for their ears:

“Both. You both use me, do you not? The same means, to the same end, for different reasons. They want balance for Their own selfish agenda, because it suits Them, and you want mercy, because you understandably don’t want to suffer.-”

The smirk falls from Merlin’s face, his expression and tone turning dark and his hands clenching tightly as Percival pales:

“-You think I don’t hear those thousands of voices? I could recite every prayer word for word, even your own, Sir Percival.”

Percival takes in a deep breath, his eyes widening, looking to the floor and nodding mutely, completely oblivious to the confused and now slightly worried stares of the other knights. Lancelot is really hoping that no one sees how panicked he is, especially when he notices the moonlight disappear behind heavy, angry looking clouds, and the wind howling just a little more violently than was natural.

Merlin finally looks away from the now subdued knight and glares to the sky with a scowl when a loud clap of thunder echoes out across the darkness. Percival flinches at the sound, but doesn’t look up, and Lancelot stares at Merlin in concern, aware of how his... gifts, sometimes get away from him. The servant ignores him, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as the clouds begin to slowly recede once more, and the wind dies down. 

Thankfully, no one seems to notice the rapid weather changes, too caught up in... whatever just happened between Merlin and Percival.

Gwaine finally breaks the silence:

“What the hell was that?!”

Everyone looks to Merlin expectantly, but he just raises a condescending eyebrow:

“That, Sir Gwaine, was thunder. No need to be afraid, I promise it won’t hurt you.”

Percival looks up at the servant sharply, evidently aware of the weather’s unnatural manifestation, but he doesn’t say anything, and no one notices. Elyan scoffs:

“I think he meant the freaky ass conversation that you and Percy just had. What prayers? What Gods??”

Merlin looks to him coolly, tilting his head as if deciding what to say before speaking slowly:

“Both of us grew up in rural areas, with different... beliefs. If you don’t understand our conversation, then you are simply unfamiliar with our beliefs.”

Elyan looks dubious, and Leon speaks next, his voice slow and concerned:

“You said you heard prayers, Merlin. We may not know what you have faith in but that’s... something else. Are you feeling ok?”

Merlin gives him a smile that’s just a little too sharp, but before he can say anything, Arthur finally breaks his silence.

He had previously been sat still as a rock next to Merlin, staring thoughtfully into his lap as he considered his manservant’s words. Prayers? Of thousands of people who are suffering? Gods? Balance? Balance of what? As much as Merlin might like to joke, Arthur really isn’t as stupid as he seems, and the question he asks has everyone in the circle stiffening in surprise:

“Merlin, what are your opinions on magic?”

Lancelot is almost vibrating in his seat at this point, and Percival looks almost scared of Merlin, though no one else takes notice of them, not even of the way Lance grasps loosely at the sword against his hip, or the way Percival’s hands are shaking. They’re all too busy considering The King’s question, and realising that, even in situations when opinions had been welcomed, had been asked for, they had never heard a peep from Merlin about magic.

Merlin slowly turns his head to look at the man next to him, his expression making a jarring transformation from venomously confident to nervous and afraid. He takes a subtly deep breath before settling an assessing gaze on The King, surprised by the blonde’s genuinely curious expression. He hums thoughtfully, schooling his face into neutrality once again as he speaks clearly:

“Magic is just a tool, like a quill or a sword. You can’t blame all blades for the action of an assassin whose weapon of choice is a dagger. Magic can cause pain, yes, but so can fire if mishandled. And just like fire, magic can be beautiful, warm. I’ve seen magic heal, grow, brighten. I see it in music, in food, in the growth of a meadow and the laughter of children. Magic...-”

He turns to the fire as he pauses, fiddling with his hands slightly as he internally reaffirms his decision to be truthful, fully; but he knows that he also has to be careful:

“-it ties this universe together. It’s woven between the very threads of existence, you can’t escape it. You can’t wipe it out, no matter how much you try, no matter how many you burn or hang or hunt, it will always grow, in cracks if it has to. Magic will... will always have a song, playing in the minds of those who want it. You need only listen.”

Merlin’s voice grew soft towards the end of his little speech, and the knights stare at him in shock. The camp is silent save for the rustling of beetles through the leaves and distant yowling foxes, until Gwaine once again speaks; though this time his voice is gentle, pained almost:

“How can you stand to live in Camelot, when you believe that? No offense, Sire,-”

He nods briefly at Arthur before continuing, and the use of Arthur’s actual title for once lets everyone know how serious Gwaine really is:

“-how can you serve a Pendragon?”

Arthur clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t say anything or argue, he knows that Gwaine’s question is valid. How can Merlin have such a high opinion of magic and serve the family that ordered its genocide?

In response, a weak, though slightly amused smile graces Merlin’s face, though he keeps his gaze firmly on the flames:

“Destiny is a tricky thing. Some days I remember that my whole life has been taking from me and planned ahead, through horrors I scarcely understand until I’m forced to face them alone, and its crushing, but equally, nothing and no one since Freya has tempted me to leave. When... when I can think of nothing but my fear, I distract myself with promises of a golden future, and it helps me rest.”

Everyone takes subtle gasps at Merlin’s mention of fear, understanding the implications intrinsically. Thankfully, they all gloss over the destiny comment; Merlin has talked about his father and Freya and magic all in one night, with Arthur, he’s not sure he can manage any further difficult conversation.

Gwaine, like Lancelot, now has a hand on his sword, sobering instantly as he looks around at his fellow knights, nodding briefly at Lance before his sweeping gaze searches for any signs of anger or hatred in the other faces.

Arthur gulps at Merlin’s words, taking a deep breath before he asks his next question:

“Merlin, do you have magic?”

Arthur knows the answer, and maybe a small part of him always has, because he isn’t stupid, but he wants, no, he needs, the truth from Merlin’s lips. Gwaine and Lancelot stare at him intensely, but the others focus their curious (not angry, not hate-filled, just curious, and maybe a little fearful. For him, though, not of him, thankfully) gazes on the dark-haired servant at his side. Merlin takes a deep breath, finally looking up at Arthur with an unreadable expression:

“I was born magic, it’s what I’m made of; Ma looked down and my eyes were already golden. She thought the threat of torture by pyre hanging over my head would scare me into learning to control it better, so she sent me to Camelot. It worked, I suppose,-”

He looks to the sky and gestures vaguely to where thunderous clouds had roiled briefly, though violently earlier:

“-though sometimes my emotions get the best of me.”

He looks back to the fire, trying not to show the relief on his face when no one makes any moves to attack him. He feels Arthur shift besides him, but he doesn’t feel tense, nor does he feel angry or scared. The knights seem frozen in time, and with the rolling emotions in Merlin’s gut he feels the need to glance up quickly, just to make sure that they aren’t frozen in time (something he’s done accidentally more than once). Their eyes are wide, and they are still, but he can see the slow rise and fall of their chests and if he really listens, he can hear their quick heartbeats. He looks back down to the fire.

Arthur takes a fortifying breath, staring into the same flames as his manservant:

“Destiny?”

Merlin sighs:

“It’s a long story. To put it quickly, the many, many prophecies say that you’re destined to bring magic back to balance and begin a golden age, and I’m meant to help and protect you along the way.”

He feels Arthur nod, but still doesn’t dare to look:

“You said you... you hear prayers.”

Merlin tenses, and he can feel Arthur’s heartbeat speed in response to his sudden... discomfort, but still he waits for Merlin to answer:

“This destiny of ours is... old. It’s ancient. Beliefs, faith, they have power, just like words and just like magic. If enough people believe in you, if enough people pray to you... well... it’s bound to bleed through eventually. How do you think Gods are born?”

It's Arthur's turn to stiffen now, and he settles an intense stare on the side of Merlin's head. The King gathers his bravery, and forces it up his throat and out of his mouth, asking the question on everyone's minds:

"Are you a God, Merlin?"

Merlin smiles slightly, shaking his head with a gentle guff of laughter, and everyone relaxes, just a little bit:

"Not quite, thankfully. I struggle as it is looking after you idiots, I don't think I could handle the responsibility of being a God."

Hesitant, though genuine smiles materialise around the circle. Gwaine releases the hold he has on his sword and laughs, though Lancelot only loosens his grip slightly, still a little... twitchy, for his friend's safety.

Arthur snorts at Merlin's words, shaking his head slightly with a smile as he responds:

"You are a terrible servant Merlin, perhaps the world is safer with you as a human. Plus, I don't think I could stand the humiliation of having to... worship you."

Merlin smiles, nodding his head in amused agreement. Lancelot relaxes fully, and all the knights stare at Arthur in slight confusion. To say they were expecting a far worse reaction to Merlin not only being magic, but being so magic he was almost a God, would be an understatement. But to be fair, none of them reacted badly, and as much as they might all be just a little jealous of the fact, Arthur was much closer with the man than they were. Perhaps him being accepting shouldn’t surprise them.

The King’s smile falls and he frowns, though the expression is more sad than anything:

“The things I’ve done to you, Merlin, the things I’ve said. Prophecy or no, how are you still here? How can you have so much faith in my supposed destiny?”

Merlin huffs out a gentle laugh and shakes his head as if the answer was obvious

“I don’t have faith in the destinies, nor the prophecies or fates or visions. I just have faith in you. You’re a good man, Arthur, you love your people and your kingdom endlessly, you are empathetic to the point of self-destruction. How could I not have faith? One day, the world will be united, and golden, and it will have been entirely down to you, not some centuries old blurry dream.”

Arthur lets out a breath at the way Merlin replied so softly, at how effortlessly the words fell from his lips, as if it were both the most apparent thing in the world, and something that he believed with his whole being. Tears gather in The King’s eyes, but they don’t fall as he swallows his emotions, reaching blindly for Merlin’s hand as they both stare into the fire. Their fingers find each other naturally, without effort, and Arthur wonders how he’d never noticed it before: how easily they always found each other.

Percival finally seems to have relaxed, though he still regards Merlin with an odd mix of reverence, and a gentle teasing fondness you feel for a younger brother. The other knights stare upon the two with an odd mix of annoyance (at owing Gwen a great deal of money when they get back to the city) and varying levels of barely concealed adoration.

The camp is silent for a while, but comfortably so. Just because they’re all ok with Merlin’s magic, with everything that has just been revealed, doesn’t mean it isn’t a lot to process. Silent that is, until Elyan frowns in confusion, tilting his head before looking at Percival:

“Out of curiosity, when did you figure out what Merlin was?”

The knight flushes slightly as he shrugs, saying:

“Since he first fell asleep in front of me: I felt it.”

Merlin nodded knowingly, muttering something along the lines of “I’ll have to work on that” under his breath with a thoughtful hum, but Arthur furrows his brows, slowly repeating Percival’s words:

“You... felt it?”

Percival takes a deep breath, looking like a man who has spent his entire life afraid, and has decided to be brave all of a sudden. He clears his throat, and unties the collar of his tunic with quick fingers, pulling it down to reveal a part of his chest. Everyone gasps in shock when he mutters something unintelligible, eyes flashing gold as a Druid Triskelion reveals itself tattooed over his heart. The King lets out an almost unheard, dumbfounded “huh.” and Merlin smiles, giving Percival a proud nod.

The knight returns his smile, only hesitating slightly, before asking:

“How long have you known what I am?”

Merlin snorts and rolls his eyes:

“From the moment I saw you. I can hide my gift, at least a little, you can’t hide yours, not from me.”

Percival looks shocked, and the knights are back to staring confusedly between them:

“Why didn’t you say anything?!”

The servant tilts his head slightly and smiles (the knights try to pretend that it isn’t just a little sharp again):

“I was curious. I wanted to see how long you would try to hide it from me, how long it would take for you to start resenting me, doubting me. About six years, apparently.”

Percival flushes, embarrassed at having been caught out:

“I apologise, My Lord, for my lack of faith.”

Everyone is taken aback at Percival’s address of Merlin, and Arthur looks very much like he’d like to argue (though still hasn’t let go of the younger man’s hand, something that no one will draw attention to), but before he can say anything, Merlin winces and shakes his head rapidly:

“Please don’t, I hate it when you lot get all... worship-y.”

Percival nods, cheeks turning redder, but Gwaine just barks out a laugh and repeats some of Merlin’s earlier words:

“I can recite every prayer word for word, even your own, Sir Percival.”

A blush rises on Merlin’s face, reaching his ears as he rubs the back of his neck in his embarrassment:

“Yes, that was a little dramatic of me wasn’t it.”

Arthur snorts, before tugging Merlin’s hand to get his attention. The servant looks at him curiously, and Arthur swallows down his timid smile when he feels Merlin squeeze his hand gently:

“How powerful are you, exactly? You’re obviously not just some ordinary sorcerer if there are prophecies and Percival is calling you My Lord. Oh, and you’re almost a God.”

Merlin grimaces slightly and Arthur frowns in concern; definitely not the response he was expecting. Percival and Lancelot both raise an eyebrow at him, curious to see if he would tell the truth or not as everyone else stares at him, waiting:

“Uh... fairly powerful,-”

Percival scoffs, and Merlin shoots him a brief glare:

“-some say I’m the most powerful Warlock to ever walk the earth. I’m... uh... I’m not great at healing magic, but other than that, I haven’t really found a limit to what I can do.”

Lancelot looks proud, and Arthur finally realises the man’s unsettling behaviour had likely been because he already knew. The King pushes down the red hot jealousy swelling in his lungs, and instead makes a mental note to thank him later: for keeping Merlin safe and loved when Arthur could not.

Leon, and Elyan look a little dumbfounded, obviously struggling to bring together Merlin, someone they thought of as a clumsy, sweet, brother, with TheMostPowerfulWarlockEver™. Gwaine just had a shit-eating grin on his face, and Arthur almost shuddered at the trouble he would no doubt deliberately get himself into now that he knew Merlin could literally do anything he put his mind to.

Arthur shakes away his worry. It’s been one hell of a night, and frankly, he’s not in the mood to get all... authoritative. He’ll ruin Gwaine’s fun one day, just... not today. He squeezes Merlin’s hand again, running his thumb over his manservant’s surprisingly calloused knuckles (he’ll have to ask if Gwaine has been dragging him into barfights) before smiling softly, gazing at the side of his face:

“Show us something?”

A grin spreads across Merlin’s face, but he doesn’t look away from the fire, giving the distinct impression that he’d been waiting for that specific request. 

He doesn’t wave his hand, or mutter a spell like Percival had, he just moves his gaze upwards, eyes flashing gold as his smile turns soft, and smoke begins to rise thickly from the wood. It warps unnaturally in the air, as if it were being painted on the breeze, and the soft edges sharpen into an image: the Pendragon crest. Merlin’s gaze flicks down briefly, and as he lifts his chin again, embers fly up in a quick whirlwind. The smoke warps once again, merging with the bright embers into a more life-like dragon. It breaks free of it’s smoky restraints, and the knights all gasp in wonder as it flies around their heads before diving back into the embers and dissipating into the air.

Once the light show finishes, a gentle round of applause goes up around the circle and Merlin blushes, bowing his head and tightening his hold on Arthur’s hand.

Gwaine laughs and claps his hands again loudly to draw everyone’s attention. They all raise eyebrows and groan when they see his normal cheeky grin adorning his face, but he doesn’t look away from the group’s Warlock:

“So, who wins?”

~

THE END!!

I really loved writing this. There’s a special place in my heart for Druid!Percival (and also slightly unsettling!Merlin), and I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Like normal, you wanna write it up properly or expand it, let me know and go for it!! Credit and tag me ✌️

Check out This List to see what I might be working on next, and let me know what y’all would like me to prioritise!!

[yesimwriting]

Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

--

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

--

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

--

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[futurewriter2000]

Rocks and Dust

A/N: I don't know why Remus gave me such Heath Ledger vibes when I was writing this but he did and I am honestly so fucking proud of it. Now, I really want to make myself some rice and chicken... or just rice. I hope you like it <3

REQUESTED BY @cloudywitchh: Hiiii, Im not sure if your requests are open, but if they are i have one. :)) Before I request, I want you to know that I love your oneshots and series! ive been binge reading. Could you possibly do a Gryffindor reader that has both james and remus that like her. oneshot or series. if you choose to write it, thank you, if not i understand

XX

Souls meet when eyes do and it hasn't been much easy to hold yourself back when such mesmerising hazel eyes had done nothing but watch you seductively.

At first you couldn't feel it but after a while, something in the back of your mind told you to look a certain direction. When you did, your eyes met his and a certain colour started to appear on your cheeks.

You watched him, he watched you. "Yes, Potter?" you asked with a smirk forming on the corner of your lips.

He smiled, tilting his head a bit to the side before speaking. "Had you done something new with your hair?" he asked, glancing up at your hair as you let out a laugh.

"Not really."

"Well, no matter of it." he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "You look absolutely stunning."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest but you were not about to let him know that. "Thank you. When don't I look absolutely stunning." you joked and he rolled his eyes.

"Hey, mate." Remus came into the common room and tapped James' shoulder as he passed him by, sitting next to him.

James smile faded a bit. He was a tad disappointed in his friend's presence. Everything had seemed to go so well between you and him. If the two of you continued to be alone, he would have had more confidence to ask you out on a date. Knowing that Remus took fancy in you too, it was a bit challenging to do so.

"What's up, Moony?" James looked at him, clearly not in a friendliest tone Remus was used to.

Remus' lips twirled upwards and he felt amused by his friends' frustration. He looked at you and smiled wonderfully. "Hi." he said and you smiled cheerfully, oblivious to the competition in front of you.

"Hi, Remus."

You seemed to be a tad disappointed as well. You loved to flirt with James because it seemed so easy and fun to do yet sometimes you couldn't understand whether he truly likes you or if he's doing it just out of fun. But you live by your mother's words; If a man truly likes you, he will do absolutely everything to let you know and pursue you.

That was why you were always so laid back. You didn't overthink anything when it came to boy. They seemed to think more simply than girls and whatever they did, they did because they wanted to, not because there was a whole scheme behind their actions.

You could see a bit discomfort in James. You couldn't really figure out why but he started to pout, which had made you a bit more uncomfortable around both of them.

Remus, however, loved to talk to you. He was open and honest but sometimes you felt as if he held too many secrets inside of him. To you, he was a bit harder to get to know, no matter how much he could tell you.

"You're going to love this, (y/n)!" he started to sound more excited. "I had found the oldest yet most interesting place a few nights ago-" he hear- both of you heard James scoff to that. "And I know your curious spirit cannot wait to explore it."

"Where?!" you threw all your books away and jumped forward. Old ruins and historic backgrounds always made you overly excited. You must have gotten it from your dad's side of the family. Everybody seemed to be more of history freaks and you were no different.

"I can show you. What do you think James?" Remus turned to James, who only laughed.

"No, thank you." he stood up and stretched his arms over his body. "Rocks and dust? Not my cup of tea. If I wanted to take a girl I fancy-" he looked at you with a grin and a soft chuckle. "I'd take her somewhere more romantic." he walked to you and winked. "A lovely restaurant or a walk among the trees under the moonlight." he was leaning down to you, close and observing the flush in your cheeks.

Your eyes were meeting and it lit a fiery spark between the two of you but as you didn't want to give him the pleasure of it, you rolled your eyes and moved away. "That's a bit of a cliche, isn't it, Potter?" you stood up and stretched your back as well. "I don't do romance." you turned from James to Remus and smiled excitedly. "Shall we go and explore!?"

"Yes we shall."

---

Remus hasn't felt you this excited over some 'rocks and dust' in all the years he had known you but he had felt his heart fill with joy and love when he could see how a person can live for the small things in life. You didn't care about wealth or power, neither if a person was physically beautiful and attractive. You neither cared if person had its flaws, you still loved anybody for who they were; good or evil. You always tried to look the best in people and your gift was, that you always seemed to bring out just that out of everybody and especially out of him.

As the two of you had walked, he had realised that he wants to tell you something important to him. It wasn't a secret to his friends and family but it was a shameful secret to him and to everybody else.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked as the two of you were climbing up the hill.

"Yeah." you stopped, gasping for air and putting your hands on your hips. "I think we need to rest too." you smiled and he laughed.

"It's not that far. We're almost close."

"My heart is almost close to stopping too."

He laughed again and sat on the rock, finding the moon shining on him as if it was leaving its fullness from a few days ago. "I just have the need to tell you this... and I'm serious."

You looked up at him and found the moon perfectly cut out the colour of his green eyes. "Your eyes look so pretty in the moonlight." you said without any filter but sat down next to him.

"Thank you."

You smiled and looked up at the moon before taking a look of his worried expression. "What is it?" you shoved him a little as he smiled. "You can tell me your deepest darkest secret." you joked but it was no joke to him.

"Well... I'm... I'm a werewOlf." he stuttered out, trying to sound casually as he said so but unsuccessful.

You only stared in silence, clearly processing the information as he was impatient to wait for your reaction. Your eyes only narrowed at him and you nodded. "I knew it."

"You knew it?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I mean, I didn't know it. I just know there was something to you that I couldn't put my finger on but I kind of knew it. It did cross my mind once but I brushed it off quickly. I didn't believe it but apparently my intuition was on to something." you laughed and stood up, offering him your hand. "Shall we continue?"

"You don't seem a tad phased by it." he took your hand gently and stood up.

"Oh, I am but I really don't mind people being people. You know?" you started to talk fast. "I don't judge people by their flaws, more by their actions and I don't seem why your werewolfness would bother me when there are far worse withces, wizards and Muggles in this world, who are far more worse than any werewolf I had encounter. Which, you're the first but still. You don't seem the one to eat children and howl at the moon."

He let out a loud laugh. "I don't eat children but I do the latter."

---

The two of you walked up the hill hand in hand, him trying to pull you up as his steps were much larger than yours. He was more of muscles than you, faster and careful as for you seemed to trip over a branch or two.

He had opened up as the two of you made your way to the top and started to walk on the flatlands. It stretched far away from the castle but you could see the ruins so clearly from the distance. The light of he moon made the subject far more pleasing to the eye and at that moment when Remus was talking to you and your eyes seemed to wander on the view- everything seemed to be perfect and you imprinted that moment into your memory so that you can look back and re-live it all over again.

As he talked, he seemed more lose and excited. He hadn't held back on anything. He had told you about Animagnus forms of his friends and how he isn't the only one who howls at the moon. Sirius apparently loves to do it just as well in his other form. He had constantly made you laugh by his full moon stories and how he accepted the awful fact of his life-long destiny of sharing his body with a beast.

He was glowing, literally glowing when he was telling you all the things he was hiding from you and for the first time, you were the one to listen and he was the one constantly talking.

"We're here!" he pointed at the ruins of an old castle. It wasn't big or notorious as Camelot or Hogwarts or any other historically known castle. It was small and poor in it's built but it was still a castle, just not the traditional kind.

He let go of your hand and it gave you a sort of an electrical shock as he did. You seemed to be so comfortable and in love of holding hands that you completely forgot what it was like without his fingers intertwined with yours.

It wasn't for long though. He had opened the old wooden door for you and offered you his hand to lead you inside. "After you, m'lady." he bowed as a gentleman should and you hurried up inside, taking him by the hand and leading him behind you.

Your wands needn't to be lit as the moonlight made it's own natural light through the large gaps between the rocks. Nature made it's own charm by growing vines around the walls, flowers and grass among the cracks. It truly did feel more magical than the magic itself.

"Oh, Remus look!" you ran to one of the walls and saw names carved in. "Ibzan." you smiled back at him.

"Old biblical name." Remus followed and saw many other names written around it. "Arthur." he laughed. "Wouldn't be an English castle without an Arthur in it."

"Tatiana." you looked at it. "Like a princess." you looked at him but he seemed to be very close to you, staring forward. His chest was against your back and his head leaning over your shoulder. You didn't have to look back. You could only move your eyes to the side and see him there.

He seemed to be so focused on the rocks in front of you that he hasn't even noticed you marvelling at him. All you could see, for the first time noticing his sharp, nicely structured side profile. His cheek bones were finely defined, his lips sharp and plump and his eyebrows nicely arched.

He truly was a beautiful boy and you hadn't noticed it till now. His palm was placed against the rock as he was supporting himself but when he had noticed you looking at him, he slyly looked back. A corner of his mouth quirked up and he said: "A girl doesn't need to be a princess to have a beautiful name." he spoke low and quietly.

The spark that James lit before was over-flamed by the passion Remus arroused in you. Before you knew it, he was leaning down and kissed you softly. One short kiss and it was enough to tempt you for more. You put your hand around his neck and pulled him down for me, smiling into it as you had felt him smile as well. As heavy as they felt, they seemed light as well because no kisses seemed to be as perfect as his; soft, teasing yet deep and passionate.

When he placed his hand on your cheek you could feel the dust set on your skin. You let out a giggle and he pulled away. "What?" he smiled but then just noticed how dark your cheek was. "Oh, my-" he let out a laugh, then looked back on the wall his palm was pressed on before. "I am terribly sorry."

You laughed as well. "Don't worry." you continued to laugh and wipe it away. "It'll probably wash away."

"Probably." he tilted his head a bit and gave you a peck. "And we should probably head back."

Putting your arms around his neck, you made a big stretch and looked up at the sky. "Ugh..." you looked back into his green eyes, burning your soul into sparks and bitses. "But it's so beautiful here." you let out a small whine and he chuckled.

"Well, (y/n)(y/l/n). I didn't think you did romance." he teased.

"I don't. I let the man do all the romance for me." you stepped on your tiptoes and brushed your nose against his.

"That's a bit unfair."

"I wouldn't worry if I were you, Lupin. I have time to make it fair."

"Glad to hear it."

[dailylogyn]

Logyn Meta: Loki & Sigyn’s Relationship in Mythology

It’s a classic tale, and arguably one of the most famous in mythology: How Sigyn held a bowl above her lover’s head to shield Loki from the snake’s venom, in turn, holding back Ragnarok a little longer. 

But how did Loki and Sigyn come to be married? How did they meet? How did they fall in love? 

With so many questions, but few answers we are left with in what has survived with the stories today, we are often left to ponder how the story of Loki and Sigyn came to be. As have many others before me, I will be exploring my thoughts with what information we are given to ponder as to how these two lovers became a thing.

To answer this question, we must go back to the beginning where Sigyn was first introduced to us in the mythologies, presenting the ONLY information we know about their relationship -- specifically: The Poetic Edda & Prose Edda.

In the poem, Lokasenna, the most famous of poem’s with the couple, it talks of how Loki has been bound by the gods with the guts of his son, Nari, and how his son, Vari, has been turned into a wolf. The Goddess Skadi fastens a venomous snake over Loki’s face, from which venom drips. Sigyn, stated as Loki’s wife, stays by his side and holds a basin under and catches the venom so it won’t drip onto her husband, but when the basin grows full, she pulls it away to empty it, during which time venom drops onto Loki, causing him to wither so violently that earthquakes occur that shake the entire earth. 

In the poem, Gylfaginning, Sigyn is introduced in Chapter 31 as being married to Loki and that they have a son by the name of “Narfi or Nari”. She is then mentioned again in Chapter 50 where events are described differently than in Lokasenna; Vali, described as a son of Loki only, is changed into a wolf by the gods and rips apart his brother, “Narfi or Nari.” The guts of Nari are then used to tie Loki to three stones, after which the guts turn to iron, and Skadi places a snake above Loki. Sigyn of course catches the venom in a bowl. This process is repeated until he breaks free, setting Ragnarok into motion.

In the poem, Skáldskaparmál, Sigyn is introduced as a goddess, an Æsir, where the gods are holding a feast for their visitors and in kennings for Loki: “husband of Sigyn” and “cargo [Loki] of incantation-fetter’s [Sigyn’s] arms.”  

Now, knowing the little knowledge we have on their relationship, it’s time to explore it from the Viking’s point of view, which is where this all pretty much originated from, in order to understand it better.

Viking Way of Love and Life

I’m no expert in this category, in fact, I’m still learning about it as I go, but there are some important key things to note here about the Viking’s POV on things and how it ties into Loki & Sigyn’s relationship. 

Divorce was completely acceptable in Viking Times. In fact, women could own property, request a divorce and reclaim dowries if a marriage ended. She could divorce him for a good number of reasons actually. 

Women often remained faithful to their husbands, although they were known to have extramarital sex. If they were caught cheating by the husbands, it usually ended pretty badly for the women. 

A Man couldn’t marry his concubine, so his wife wouldn’t have to feel threatened about competition. They usually all lived in the same household. Adultery concerning the husband was okay, but not the wife.

Vikings didn’t categorize people as homosexual, bisexual, straight or etc.They differentiated between submissive and dominant roles in sexual relationships. Homosexuality was acceptable with limits.

Poetry was a big part of Courtship. 

Typically marriage was usually for alliances, set up by families and parents. However, this doesn’t mean there wasn’t romance or love between couples or potential marriages. 

Family life was important to Norse Men and people usually aimed to survive: typically by marrying and having children. 

How does this apply to Loki and Sigyn? Now, let’s dive into the typical hypothesis of their relationship. I call it a typical hypothesis because it hasn’t really been outright pointed out in the mythologies, but it’s something the Mythology community usually agrees on concerning Loki and Sigyn’s relationship from what we know here.

A Hypothesis into Loki & Sigyn’s Marriage

The marriage between the two of them alone is usually questioned by others, especially concerning Loki’s chaotic nature and Sigyn’s undying loyalty. Obviously, she could have divorced him whenever she wanted to if things were bad, but instead she remains by his side which leads us to the fact, not only does she truly love Loki, but she also knows more to him than we do -- as if there is a secret hidden side to the god of Mischief.

It is sometimes implied that the marriage between Loki and Sigyn was an arranged one to establish position in Asgard  -- as marriages typically were in Viking Times. This doesn’t mean there wasn’t love between them, In fact, it could have been a perfectly arranged marriage. 

Sigyn isn’t blind to Loki’s flaws, knowing perfectly well how her lover is and accepting him flaws and all -- unlike the other gods. It’s more than likely she knows about his other children: Jormungandr, Sleipnir, Hel and Fenrir, just as she probably knows about his affair with Angrboda. Again, this wasn’t an uncommon thing in Viking Times for a man to have another lover and other children with them. 

Loki is very much a family person, just as he enjoys having fun. There has never been anything alluding to him abandoning his family or abusing Sigyn and his kids despite what pop culture or other versions may say. Instead, they have been taken away from him by others in someway (ex: Vali having to kill Narvi as the gods use his insides as Loki’s bindings. Odin taking away all of Loki’s children, making Hel the ruler of the underworld, Jory the serpent of Midgard’s sea and Fenrir locked in bonds. Lets also not forget Sleipnir becoming Odin’s horse and most of his children dying during Ragnarok because of said gods. Sigyn’s whereabouts are unknown and Angrboda is dead. Case in point: I’d wanna start Ragnarok too.) 

Vikings typically used motifs or symbolism with their writings. This is where the “opposites attract/compliment each other aka Balance of nature’ comes into play. While Loki is outright known as a Trickster God, hence the God of Mischief (which is typically harmless pranks or fun), but it usually ends with bad results for him, turning into Chaos. And what’s the opposite of Chaos? Constancy and Order. Although it isn’t outright stated, she is pointed out as Loki’s loyal wife and seems to offer that Constancy to his Chaos. Hence, some of us refer to them as “Different Sides of the Same Coin.” 

Conclusion

Loki and Sigyn’s relationship is typically misunderstood by others nowadays thanks to how little information we have on them in the texts, some peoples own interpretations of their relationship (*coughs* MARVEL COMICS *coughs*) and how much Sigyn still remains to be unknown by others. 

I believe that if their relationship was to be portrayed in the proper way, taking everything here into note and not given to writers who don’t understand or refuse to take the time to understand their relationships/characters, they might actually be understood better overall. A good example of this I’ve found myself is from the German Movie: Mara and the Firebringer and Neil Gaiman’s book: Norse Mythology. They both explore Loki and Sigyn’s relationship in a proper light, not undermining either of them and exploring their thought process and actions in ways that only strength their relationship and one another as individual characters bonded together in marriage. 

Bonus mention to The Bifrost Incident by The Mechanisms for their interpretation of Loki and Sigyn’s relationship as well. 

_____________________________________________________________

SOURCES:

Viking Love: 8 Facts about Love and Love making from the Vikings - https://historycollection.com/eight-facts-love-marriage-viking-style/

The Love Life of the Vikings - https://historyofyesterday.com/love-life-of-vikings-f21c9ed58d4e

Norse Mythology Character Tropes - https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Characters/NorseMythology

Mara and the Firebringer TV Tropes (SPOILERS BEWARE) - https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Film/MaraAndTheFirebringer

Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology (Book) - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norse_Mythology_(book)

The respective Edda’s are linked above by their names. 

[chidoroki]

Isabella - 73584

I had a serious debate with myself over whether or not I wanted to sit down and spend my weekend writing another one of these praise posts. I was content with just doing one for each of the Fullscore Trio kids and ending it there.. but apparently I love this woman too much to just ignore her on her birthday. So here were are on September 9th with a list of all her best and my personal favorite moments as to why I believe she’s such a great character, antagonist and mother (yeah you heard me right). Considering she only shows up in the beginning and very end of the story, this post ended up longer than I originally anticipated, which just goes to show how many thoughts I really have about this woman. (for real, this rivals Ray’s post in terms of points but there’s far more words)

Since she also has some backstory and certain events differ between manga and anime (thanks to the second season), I’ll try to go in chronological order between both timelines instead of chapter by chapter, which might be a bit confusing as we’ll jump around the story a lot but just to bear with me as I try to makes sense of it all.

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland & ch181.7, so if you haven’t read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I’m literally going from start to finish with this one last time. I promise.)

- I’m not sure how well she compares to Emma when it comes to athleticism, but Isabella seemed to have no trouble climbing up and down trees when she was younger.

- Not only that, but she managed to scale the wall by herself using a method that requires a fairly impressive jump. It’s also implied that this is how she climbs the wall again so many years later when chasing the soon-to-be escapees, which helps prove that even at an older age, she hasn’t lost her touch.

- Was chosen to undergo training to become a Mom, which required high test scores and the current mother’s recommendation. She accepted the offer in order to keep living and survive as human the demons couldn’t eat.

- Based on Sienna’s comment, is it fair to say Isabella is on par with the full score trio? I mean, the woman is basically flawless.

- She was practically untouchable during her time at headquarters while training too apparently. Mom positions are scarce so the environment where these ladies fight (physically/mentally/emotionally) to even snag that job is highly competitive, and yet Isabella never let anyone deter her from her goal of becoming a Mom, which probably led to the “Iron Lady” nickname she received now that I think about it.

- She was the youngest ever to be granted the Mom position at..what, 19? 20? Somewhere around there, but impressive nonetheless considering they’re forced to have a child, build up a strong, emotionless exterior and endure so much fear. (but my goodness, the woman doesn’t age at all. she looks just as good when the story actually starts as she did her when she was a bit younger)

- It became common knowledge among the Sisters that she was also very successful in the way she raised her children.

- Her success greatly benefited the farm, as she offered up countless high quality goods, which sounds terrible, I know, but believe me when I say she gave her best effort for her children. Even though she held the Mom position, the amount of power she actually had in this system was pretty minimal, especially with how much she valued her own life. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes or risky changes, so she settled with doing the most with what she was capable of. She provided her children with a normal lifestyle, not only to keep up the orphanage facade, but knowing that their lives would all be cut shorter than they anticipate. She gave them love in hopes that no one would ever have to feel the dread she felt after Leslie’s death and/or finding out the truth. She tried to delay that horrific fate by encouraging them to learn all they can (like teaching the trio about strategy and chess) so they could achieve higher tests scores and (unknowingly to them) add a couple more months or years onto their lives. Yes it was her job to raise these children to such high standards but she excelled at it for their sake too.

- And I know y’all will just throw Ray in my face like, “oh but he was her actual child and she treated him horribly/different.” Okay but deep down I don’t think she actually wanted to? When they both realized they were truly mother and son, Isabella couldn’t just dote on him and start treating him as such. I’m sure Ray wasn’t too fond of Isabella at this point in his life either, knowing that she sent several of his siblings away to get killed. They probably would’ve gotten along just fine in a perfect world, but since they were both aware of the hell they’re trapped living in, they emotionally distanced themselves and formed a business-like relationship as a result of Ray’s deal, which benefited them both in different ways. For Ray, it was more practical, with the obvious notion of living as long as possible along with obtaining various rewards and knowledge of the outside world. For Isabella, it helped emotionally by simply just ignoring their true relation. I believe if she clung to that realization, it would break the orphanage illusion and eventually wear down her “Iron Lady” exterior that she relies so heavily on.

- Like can you imagine how much you would have to harden your heart in order to quite literally walk children to their death every couple months for years on end and just move on like it’s completely normal? Now imagine how earth shattering it must be to think about doing the same to your actual child. All those years spent perfecting a fake smile and emotionless exterior like she was trained to have and her son shatters it in an instant. She becomes completely terrified about how he’s actually alive and in front of her right now and there’s nothing she can do to truly save him.. and yet she still recovers so damn quickly I can’t even comprehend it! But there’s still some sadness in those eyes. You can’t tell me otherwise. That one moment of weakness speaks volumes to me.

- So now with her general backstory FINALLY out of the way, we can finally start with ch01/ep01 and how her laugh is sweet and innocent. I say that because (all hidden emotions and motives aside) that’s exactly how she’s supposed to sound in this moment, not only to us but to the children as well.

- She of course checks Emma’s tracker a moment later but other than that I still think it’s a pretty genuine moment between the two.

- As previously stated, her ability to raise high quality children is unmatched, which is clear as day thanks to the fullscore trio.

- Despite their crazy level of intelligence, the trio has yet to win a simple game of chess against Isabella, even when teamed up.

- She treasures everything about the kids.

- She really cares about them, even when it’s time to send them off with a smile, which we know is thanks to her strong facade.

- But mother dearest isn’t really fine. She doesn’t like walking kids to their death, especially so young. But she can’t let them (or even herself) know that. She can’t show weakness, so she hums Leslie’s song, which is a tool she’s used for years in order to give herself strength.

- Don’t worry, I disliked her this moment happened too, just as the story intended. And here’s where her fantastic antagonist role begins for all the world to see.

- A true champ at jump scares.

- Acts completely calm the night after a couple of kids found out the secret of the farm.

- She uses the tracker in plain sight, sending whomever went to the gate last night a threatening but silent message.

- Correct Norman, that’s the “Iron Lady” for ya. Also the name of ch03 for us. Well, “The Iron Woman” but same difference.

- She switches from calculating and manipulative breeder to sweet and pleasant mother so quickly and effortlessly it’s incredible. Isabella even checked Emma’s pulse in this scene to see if she was acting normal.

- At this point she still had no idea who went to the gate (Ray didn’t tip her off yet, at least I don’t think so) but her guess couldn’t have been more precise. The level of fear she drives into both Emma and Norman was great too, but then again her presence is enough in any scene to give us chills.

- Notices her watchdog isn’t at his usual post and starts to get suspicious.

- Not only of him, Emma and Norman, but Don and Gilda as well, thus giving the five extra chores to finish in an attempt to slow down any escape planning, such as cleaning vacant rooms, organizing the pantry and inspecting spare linen.

- While the trio believes Isabella was being too soft and patient in finding her targets, she effectively catches them off guard by bringing in Krone for assistance. The trio soon realize they were actually preparing the sister’s new room and those mundane chores were just an excuse to buy time.

- Look at her, all smug. Checkmate indeed. (and totally not important, but her eyes are such pretty shades of purple)

- The sass and her no nonsense attitude.

- Immediately puts Krone in her place the moment she even thinks about shipping out the targets. Of course holding off on shipping the targets would benefit the farm, as it would produce higher quality merchandise as time passes, but plant 3 is run by Isabella and she’ll be damned if an assistant thinks they could waltz right in and decide her children’s fate.

- She check’s Emma tracker again despite her claim of knowing exactly who the targets might be. You can never be too careful.

- Her precious children managed to win a game of tag against Krone, which is still impressive considering the kind of training the sister has gone through, so kudos to her teachings.

- Knows right away that Krone was trying to take advantage, which allows Krone to realize that the opening she had to learn more about the children was all planned by Isabella herself. Her intimidating nature is enough to scare adults too.

- Reveals that Krone was mostly summoned in order to keep Ray in check after his failure.

- Despite the trust issue, Isabella still keeps up her end of the deal by requesting the items Ray asked for, thanks to the odd perks she had under Grandma Sarah which allowed her to order goods that weren’t on the supply list.

- This hug between her and Phil is just too cute not to mention.

- I imagine she makes this comment because she knows exactly how long a rope must be based off her own almost-escape.

- It’s just something about how this scene is framed alongside this dialogue that makes me think “oh, like mother, like son.”

- I blame her very thoughtful planning for my first big freak out when I watched season 1 blind, like ma’am that’s my favorite boy, please don’t.

- She conspires with Grandma Sarah in order to get rid of Krone for good, which renders the evidence sister just found out about the children’s escape completely useless. Sarah believes there might be some truth to it, but ultimately ignores it and puts her faith in Isabella’s ability of controlling the children & the situation.

- She then cuts Ray off and ends their six-year long deal, opting to control the situation herself from now on. Also, how she wanted to keep him around until the very end is kinda bittersweet. Does she mean as merchandise? Or because she wanted him to live as long as possible? Ah such a tricky little comment.

- She also tosses him across the room like a rag doll.

- Thank god for this panel existing and actually being adapted into the anime so I could hear it because I had absolutely no memory of her laughing in this moment.

- “She says it so nonchalantly,” Norman said once upon a time, and it’s still so frightening.

- As insane as her ideals seem given the circumstances, nothing she says here is really a lie.

- She has the strength to quite literally break a leg and that cracking noise still haunts me to this day.

- It wasn’t even a spur of the moment thing either. Isabella came fully prepared with bandages to fix up any injury she was willing to inflict and that thought alone is terrifying.

- Not only that, but she broke it so cleanly that Emma’s leg does indeed heal perfectly in the exact time frame she estimates. This entire moment is so unfairly impressive, like ma’am how dare you do this to Emma of all people.. like why couldn’t you at least use that kind of force to snap Peter’s neck instead or something?

- To make matters worse, she then reveals Norman’s shipment date. And it’s the following day, which sends the kids into a very understandable panic.

- Needless to say, November 2nd, 2045 was a very successful day in the life of Isabella. Woman was putting everyone in checkmate in ep08 and my anger on full blast.

- This sly smile she sends Ray’s way after announcing Norman’s shipment to the younger kids is so cruel.. it’s perfect.

- I can only imagine she asked about Ray’s whereabouts because she knew the boys were close friends and she hoped they would at least say goodbye to one another, but that’s just me.

- Puts an end to Norman’s parting words in such a simple and chilling matter.

- The way she just openly threatens Emma with others just out of earshot.

- Norman out here asking the real questions. If anything, I say she’s more “content” rather than happy. I don’t think she’s ever really thought about her own happiness, at least not often enough, hence the slight pause. This entire time she’s been focusing on how to make her children’s lives perfect, but for herself she just wants to survive in this hellish world they’re all living in.

- I’m honestly still not sure who’s final decision it is to send people to Lambda, either Isabella, Peter or someone else (honestly never bothered to check), but whether or not Isabella had any say in the matter, I’m sure she’s at least a little glad that Norman gets to live a bit longer? Perhaps that’s a stretch, but I’m putting the idea here anyway.

- I say this because I believe that’s part of the reason why she offered Emma a Mom recommendation, not only because our girl’s high test scores, but in hopes that she could live a longer life.

- Although she really stresses in an intimidation fashion how pointless Emma’s efforts are now that Norman’s “dead,” the cliff remains a major hazard and her leg is still bandaged up, Isabella still tries so hard to convince her to give up, like Ray has, in order for Emma to end her own suffering. It was the first instance during my blind watch-through were I started to get the hint that Isabella might actually care about her kids, and of course I know now it’s because she didn’t want Emma to experience the same pain she did after Leslie’s death.

- With Emma and Ray both broken, things went by rather smoothly for Isabella those last two months, though she continued to keep a close eye on them.

- Her humming is so soothing. And why it took me this long to bring up “Isabella’s Lullaby” is beyond me, but oh my god, that song and any other soundtrack that uses its melody is absolute perfection.

- Had enough sense to not let her guard down the final night, even though her efforts were ultimately unsuccessful, but the idea counts.

- Though her caretaker side is focused on more during the fire, some motherly instincts do kick in as she instructs Gilda to get the babies from her room and lead everyone outside to safety. She was also concerned for Emma’s well being, hoping all the smoke didn’t get to her when the girl vanished. (i know you can argue “she’s only worried because they’re merchandise” which is fair but c’mon, i swear she’s not completely heartless)

- Took a hot minute (ahha) but Isabella eventually realized that the kids were actually escaping solely based on what they were wearing on their feet. I’m sure Emma’s discarded left ear was a big tip off too but to come to that conclusion by noticing the shoes they had on during all that chaos is surprising.

- She looks completely insane here but I always thought this shot of her was nicely animated with all the fire (or embers? sparks? whatever they are) flying around. The laugh she does before this is also a nice bonus. Oh, and she somehow managed to secure a radio from the room Don had locked.

- Figured the fifteen kids would head towards the bridge and called in headquarters to block it off.

- But when the children didn’t appear at the bridge, she just happened to know exactly where else they might try to cross the cliff.

- In the anime’s case, Isabella climbed the wall and ran there quick enough to engage in a stare down with Emma before she finally slid down.

- The moment I knew I was doomed.

- After the 15 kids successfully escaped, Isabella admits defeat, for she couldn’t really see how much her children have grown to outsmart her.

- This iconic quote, which conveys so much truth and sincerity. There were multiple occasions where she had to distance and restrain herself due to the system that controlled her, but the love she was able to show the children was genuine. If she wasn’t held back by the strict rules enforced by Mom position, I don’t doubt she would’ve treated Ray better or became far more emotional whenever a child had to leave for good or seriously injured, instead of donning a fake smile and being closed off.

- She realizes with this unspeakable loss in merchandise, the reputation she worked so hard to build up is meaningless now and that the farm no longer has any use for such an incompetent caretaker. She figures she’s as good as dead anyway now, so she wastes no time in actually helping the escapees by reclaiming the ropes to hide their exact method and route of escape, if only to grant the kids some extra time before the pursuers really locate them.

- She doesn’t act bitter as a result of her loss, instead choosing to wish the escapees luck with the future they grasped for themselves and care for the children that were left behind.

- She’s just so pretty y’all. Thank you anime.

- She was named “Best Antagonist” (and rightfully so!) back during the 2020 Crunchyroll Anime Awards, winning over Askeladd (Vinland Saga), Overhaul, (My Hero Academia), Garoua (One Punch Man,) & others.

(Post-season 1 spoilers ahead, even though the anime is completely finished at this point, but will be touching upon her special chapter more as well.)

- Completely owns up to her mistakes that caused the farm a massive loss in profitable goods and is ready to received whatever punishment necessary, which she expects to be death.

- Only.. she’s not being killed, she’s actually being promoted to Grandma. Though Isabella was directly responsible for the children’s escape, the blame ultimately falls on Sarah who couldn’t correctly control Isabella, thus leading the old lady to be shipped out in place of the goods Isabella lost.

- Peter also notes that the farm found more worth in Isabella than Sarah, so her past merits also played a part in sparing her life, as having a woman like Isabella in charge would surely produce the level of quality the farm needs.

- Isabella eventually accepts the promotion, though she can’t help but feel hesitant and shocked about the whole deal. This woman was ready to embrace death and finally be free from this cruel world, but now she has to witness not only more kids being shipped off, but moms and sisters in training as well (yay old chapter reviews coming in clutch).

- She could have very well just refused Peter’s offer, but we all know how much Isabella originally wanted to survive, so she doesn’t just accept because this man dangled a sense of freedom in her face, she also agreed so she could have the opportunity to help her children in any way her newfound power would allow her.

- Of course, her transition to Grandma happens a bit differently in the second season, but I will give some bittersweet thanks to the anime once more for the obvious but curse them for also having this entire scene dark as hell. Let me see her beauty darn it! I can only fix the lighting so much until it looks overexposed and bad again.

Anyways, Sarah is still alive at this point and taunts Isabella with the escapee’s lives just to see how she would react, which gave her a small sense of hope. Then some demons pay a visit later on and also ask if she would want to see the children one last time, but Isabella tells them that not only would she be too ashamed to face them but that they would manage to survive Grandma’s capture plan, which involved several men blowing up their shelter. It’s now clear to the demons that these children are special, and while Isabella agrees, it’s not for the same reason the demons think so. The demons believe the kids are special because of how they were raised to such a high quality. Isabella calls them special simply because they’re her children, just as any mother would.

- In the anime, it’s the demons who offer Isabella the Grandma deal if Sarah’s current plan were to fail (which it does) and she takes it and the freedom from Grace Field House without question. Do I still believe she had similar intentions to help out the children like she did in manga at this point? Of course.

- Not even a full month into her new job did she start preparing to help Emma & the others by considering who from the current Sisters she wanted to recruit to personally assist her destroy the farm entirely.

- A month later and Isabella had already decreased the number of shipments that took place at Grace Field, which obviously helps raise the quality of the children by default, but it also means less death and gives those kids a chance to live longer.

- She completely anticipated that Matilda, Jessica, Sienna & Scarlet were conspiring against her and caught them quite easily, as they were among the top scorers.

- Each had a fair chance at becoming Moms but with those positions limited, it was obvious to figure out they were trying to force Isabella’s seat open by creating some suspicious activity to place on her almost perfect record. Unfortunately for the girls, our new Grandma is too smart for her own good and I love it.

- The four women are apprehensive to join her insane plan to go against the farm, but Isabella assures them there’s no freedom if they follow the system’s rules and betray her. The harsh reality they’re all living in will continue unless they stop competing with one another and combine forces to defeat the true enemy.

- To persuade them further, Isabella mentions the children they all gave birth to are still alive, bringing out an array of emotions from the women that they each thought they had buried deep down.

- THIS! Just all of this is wonderful and shows just how much Isabella learned from her children who once defeated her.

- To fully gain the women’s trust, she gives them Ray’s farewell note that he originally left in order to bait Krone, as proof she won’t double-cross them at any point.

- I love the fact that she kept the note close to her because it acts just like all the other various toys and items she saved in her secret room back at plant 3. The original owners were all precious to her so she kept a piece of them behind to remember them in a place only she knew about. As I said before when mentioning her “I wish I could have just loved them normally” quote, all the love she had for her children had to be suppressed when she was under the system’s control, but that doesn’t mean she never cared. Because she did, and if I haven’t made at least that clear by now then I’m failing.

- Can her intentions and love for her children be any more clear? (possibly, i’m not done with this darn post yet. how you guys holding up? i’m going a little insane at this point.)

- Anyways! Second season didn’t make the rest of the story easy so apologies for any timeline mishaps as I switch between both anime and manga events from here on out.. like how in manga Isabella is informed of the escapee’s return to Grace Field via Peter, while the in the anime it’s her who helps lures them back with a fake transmission via the radio they stole.

- Just before Emma & the others do return to Grace Field on November 13, Isabella finally reaches out to the farm’s many other Sisters to recruit them. She waited until the right moment to inform them of her crazy takeover plan so Peter wouldn’t become suspicious from all of headquarters acting/thinking differently (you know, like how Emma kept the jailbreak plan under wraps until the night of). These ladies also feel a bit wary and even think of Isabella’s offer as a joke, but with some real, heartfelt encouragement, she manages to win over every single woman to her side.

- The moment when it was first revealed to us that she was not only still alive but was also promoted to Grandma is still so powerful.

- She snaps Nat’s finger back into place after Peter broke it. (and considering emma’s group infiltrates the farm right after this, i’m pretty sure that ch170 with rallying the sisters took place before this..i think?)

- Gave me a minor heart attack.

- *CLAPS FRANTICALLY!!!* The moment she truly won me over.


- While her betrayal against Peter in the manga is fantastic and quite possibly one of my favorite moments, the anime did give us a little something too. It shows Peter spewing utter nonsense to Emma about how she’s destined to fail, only for best girl to bite back with such a fantastic quote, and then Isabella drops the act and switches sides. While I agree Emma’s comeback is “wonderful,” it’s the English dub that completely wins me over in this scene by having Isabella comment “Now that’s my girl” instead, like bro.. hearing that makes me so happy.

- For real dude, you have several highly skilled women pointing guns at you, I think her betrayal is crystal clear.

- This is like the perfect example of how she had to conceal her feelings while bound by the system. She just misses these kids so much y’all but she can’t let her true emotions show yet.

- Having her call Peter a boy is beyond hilarious to me. Also, how she disagrees with him on so many levels is excellent, like how he believes in experimenting on kids and having the right to call yourself their parent just because you created them, while Isabella believes in raising and loving children normally and that you earn that parent title by actually being part of their lives. To be fair they both inflicted pain on kids (Nat’s finger/Emma’s leg) but Peter’s action was a mistake in itself. Isabella got frustrated back when Krone even threatened to ship out the kids who discovered the secret, so you can bet she’s probably pissed off at this boy for harming one of her kids on purpose.

- The best mother-daughter moment ever! It’s such a shame it never got truly animated since the second season decided not to give the children guns, but we get to see a small smile from Isabella after Emma decided to still call her “mom.”

- The anime never gave Peter the chance to run away, like he (somehow) managed to do in manga, so we had the chance to see someone actually shoot at him. Well, in his general direction at least. Isabella lands a perfect shot not even a full second after he pulls out that disc. Accuracy on point.

- Said this once or twice in the past in manga so I’m glad the anime brought it back.

- Remains cautious and keeps her gun raised at Peter when Emma approaches him and rightfully so considering he still had his knife hidden at this point.

- Refuses Emma’s offer to join the kids in the human world at first because she knows that her (& the sister’s) actions shouldn’t be forgiven so easily, but with some rather blunt sympathy from Ray and encouragement from her other children, she finally gives in.

- This entire post summed up in one image.

- She apologizes even though distancing herself from her kids and preparing them for death were just required of her role as a caretaker. She wouldn’t have done any of that in a normal world. (do i sound like a broken record yet? probably)

- The emotion you hear in her voice during this entire dub scene hits my heart in all the right places.

- She still thinks of Leslie after all this time and I think that’s real cute.

- Her protective nature is on full display when she protects Emma from this bastard of a demon. A truly surprising and heartbreaking moment, considering this is the woman who’s survival used to be her top and only priority in the past, but now doesn’t hesitate to give her life in order to save her kid (and by extension that small girl emma saved. also, major heart attack for me).

- Despite being critically injured, this woman still possess enough strength to hold back a demon twice her size. She doesn’t even pay any mind to its nonsense. Like the demon, people often think this is when redemption arc starts but I believe it started way back in ch37 when Isabella retrieved and hid the ropes the kids used to escape. Ever since she admitted defeat on the wall that night, she threw caution to the wind and began cheating the system in hopes to one day assist the kids achieve a brighter future. Despite all the work she’s done behind the scenes, Isabella believes there’s still so much more she can do to atone, so even though she’s already received the children’s forgiveness, she continues to assist them by jumping in and saving them directly from demons for once in her life.

- Ma’am it’s sweet you’re so concerned with their safety, but we should be asking you that question ya know? (but then again emma was the same way after she woke up from her coma).

- Knows that just apologizing and saving Emma isn’t enough to suddenly forgive all her actions and wants to do so much more for the children as a result. Even though I already acknowledged all her subtle and hidden moments, I wish we got to see her care for them more openly.

- I simply can not read through ch177 and not get emotional. No matter how hard I try, I always feel tears start to form in my eyes. Oh my god, how cruel that death can be this beautiful. It’s so unfair.

- *uses old chapter review because I’m too upset right now* “She apologizes for everything. For not treating him right and loving him as a mother normally would her own son. For making him despise his life so much and enduring so much pain that he thought the only escape was suicide.”

- “She leaves him with one last wish to protect everyone, and that completely breaks me because you know exactly how much they both care for their family. Not only would they literally die for their family, but they would live for them too if someone asked. Truly like mother, like son.” (aaaaaahhhhh)

- Her, umm.. ghost (along with Conny’s & Yuugo’s) help Ray reunite with Emma in 2049.

- All my tears aside, the anime did something right by actually keeping her ALIVE!

- Have you ever seen something so GODDAMN BEAUTIFUL in all your life?? This image is so powerful it literally tossed aside any salty feelings I had that night with how the second season ended. Seeing her like this grants me so much happiness y’all, it’s truly unbelievable. I still can’t get over it and hopefully I never will.

Okay, now I’m done, thank god. Sorry this is like ridiculously long, especially since she’s absent for sooo many chapters. Also find it so hilarious how drastic my opinion of her changed from the beginning to now, from “bitch” to “oh my god I love her so much.” I know people will always have opposing opinions whether she’s actually a good mother or not and that’s totally fine. Wasn’t trying to convince y’all of that either because yes, some of her actions are real unforgivable, but she was suffering under the farm system too and just followed through with what she was trained to do in order to survive, but while other Sisters fought to climb ranks and help themselves survive, Isabella ultimately wanted the best for her children. The more power she gained, the more risks she took and once the system crashed so did her facade.

An absolute queen.

[meichenxi]

*rant commencing*

ok guys let’s sit down and have a think about the way we talk to kids, particularly neurodivergent ones, and the weight it carries

the other day, I opened up to a friend about something really hurtful my best (and only) friend said to me when I was fifteen. It was a moment of emotional intimacy and the first time I had brought it up seven years later and, once again, I got laughed at and told I was too fucking sensitive

and ok maybe yeah I was a ridiculous child. I’m a ridiculous adult, that shouldn’t be surprising. But this hurt and hurt and hurt and I was trying to think about why this in particular and not anything else was so painful

so here’s the situation. at fifteen, like many smart kids, everyone thought the world was open to me. Ok I had no social skills to speak of and was ostracised by teachers and students and family, but I was an optimistic kid, and in a disaster of a home situation (involving kidnappings and court cases and running away and being out of school for a year and a brother starting drugs at 12 and living in a shelter and basically just a LOT) I was always the smiley helpful one. and apart from being defeated by very simple mechanisms like idk drawers or biscuit packets, I picked things up quickly. I took GCSEs early and extra and tutored others; I was a regional competitive swimmer in breaststroke and open water; I taught myself the flute and got into an international touring youth orchestra without lessons; I won a poetry competition for adults in primary school; I played competitive netball and was a long distance runner; I drew and sold my art; I wrote shitty novels and started making conlangs and was interviewed on bbc world about it; I loved performing and was invited to join a theatre company when I left school; and my biggest passion in the entire world apart from Tolkien was martial arts. And the best thing was for my parents - one of whom was disabled and didn’t work and the other who was a cleaner - is that I worked two paper rounds and tutored younger children and earned all of the money for it myself. blah blah blah. I was your mum’s friend’s kid. 

well, I’m a disaster adult, so you can probably guess that none of that lasted for very long. and there are gazillions of people here with exactly the same story. 

the point in question, though, was when I was fifteen and thinking about sixth form (the last two years of school in the UK) it was becoming clear alarmingly fast that you weren’t allowed to just keep doing everything you loved. at some point you had to make a choice. 

but how could I give up swimming for music? Or music for languages? Or languages for athletics? Or athletics for theatre? or, actually, all of them but one???? how did people just know what they had to do with their lives? how did they choose? 

the problem was, I said to my friend, I know I could do well at any of them, so how was I supposed to choose? (tactless and a stupid thing to say and also just not true but I was fifteen and simultaneously disgustingly cocky and cripplingly insecure) And he laughed and said, well, fuck you then. 

oh noooo. poor meeeeeee. I’m so fucking good at things what do I dooooo

I haven’t stopped thinking about that comment for seven years. Every single time I think about wasting my potential, every time I can’t sleep because I’m terrified that I’m not being productive or useful and hating myself because I’m upset that I can’t do something right away and I know it’s a stupid thing to be upset about - I think about that comment. I’m lucky. It’s alright for some. 

because, actually, being expected to know what to do with your life aged 15 is a fucking terrifying thing. we were kids at fifteen being told to make decisions as if we had all the facts, as if we weren’t also being blindfolded and spun around in circles until we couldn’t stand. Do you do what your parents say? what you think you want to do? what your teachers say? do you just stay in education even though it’s not for you because your dream is stupid, or because you don’t have a dream like everyone else seems to? are you supposed to have a dream?

*it’s NOT a stupid thing to worry about*

particularly when? well, when your entire self worth equates to the things that you output, the things that you do. so just for a moment, put yourself in the shoes of all of these wonderful, dazzling, damaged, crazy kids with big dreams and big hearts, kids that are struggling right now and kids that are our future, and imagine that you’ve been told since you were old enough to read or speak or walk that you’re just so very clever

isn’t it just wonderful how clever you are? isn’t it just great how we never need to worry about you? you’re such an easy child, it’s a blessing. always so considerate, so thoughtful, never making a fuss! isn’t it just fantastic how well you do in school? I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a child who went to all of those nasty parties. you’re so dedicated

raise your hand if you were only ever told you were good. raise your hand if you were never told you were kind. 

so, what happens? you take a child, and you tell them for its entire childhood that they’re clever. You don’t tell them that they’re creative, or hard-working, or dedicated, or driven, or helpful. You let them know that it’s ok that they’re weird, because they’re going to be successful. what do you think parents say to their kid who’s crying because she has no friends and she doesn’t understand what the other children are thinking and why they would hurt each other like that? even good parents, the very best of them, say things like: you’re just more mature than they are. it doesn’t matter. keep your head down - you’ll show them. 

your child, in the best case scenario, has access to her hyperfixation that makes the world big and bright and beautiful. she’s a bit weird, but it’s kind of cute. anyway, she’s good at it. and as long as she succeeds, conventionally, and you get to brag, then it’s ok that she’s a little bit unconventional.

and then things to break, just a little. and then, aged eleven, your child is having an asthma attack in the classroom because she got so anxious she couldn’t answer a maths question she couldn’t breathe. it’s ok, her parents tell her the next day. you’re just not good at maths - that’s alright. you don’t have to be good at everything

your child, because she’s perceptive, begins to realise that things don’t get better as you get older. people are just as cruel at 12 as they are at 7, and they’ll be just as cruel at 15. and then one day, as a bad joke because she doesn’t really understand humour, she writes a fake text to her dad from someone’s phone in legalese that actually has a secret code hidden it in that she knows her dad will crack right away because he’s brilliant. she thinks it’s hilarious. her father thinks he is being threatened, and spends the next week in meltdown, bedridden and burnt-out. and when she owns up, he turns and snaps at her, and says as if you could write something like that. an ADULT wrote this, not a fucking child

and suddenly, that cleverness they kept talking about? they don’t even understand that. 

suddenly, no one sees her at all. 

she needs to learn to be like the other kids. to be like a fucking child. and while she’s learning, she doesn’t speak for a year

that happened to me, but take your pick - I’m sure you don’t have to look far to find examples of your own. 

My point is this: if you tell a child for their entire life that the only thing that is worthy of being loved is what they achieve, if every time they do something they love you tell them oh, you could be a famous writer! you’re so talented! rather than saying that you loved listening to their story, if you only praise them when they’re good and quiet and convenient and tell them that as long as they succeed, it doesn’t matter if they don’t have friends or if they’re miserable, and THEN you tell them to choose ONE THING and drop 90% of everything that makes them who they are - 

what the hell did you THINK was going to happen??

because here’s the first thing. for many kids, whether that’s because of neurodivergence or age maturity or whatever, hyper fixations and hobbies aren’t just things they like to do. THEY ARE LIFELINES. they’re the things these kids go to when they’re hurt, angry, upset, because they make sense. for many kids, especially but not always girls, they are able to camouflage themselves and mask tendencies of neurodivergence because they’re ‘good students’. at a family gathering once, my mum, so frustrated at my inability and lack of desire to talk to any members of my extended family, snatched my German grammar book and locked it in the boot of the car. knowing that I escape and read it in the toilet was the only thing keeping me going, exhausted and stressed and overwhelmed. I vomited on the grass.

and here’s the second thing. you tell us from an early age that they only way we’ll ever be acceptable to the rest of society is if we succeed. autistic kids are fine, as long as they’re international maths olympiad champions. adhd kids are fine, as long as they’re famous athletes. if you’re obsessed with musicals that’s ok, as long as that obsession leads to a well-paying job as a successful writer on Broadway. 

and then you tell us that we only have one chance at that success? and this decision determines the rest of our lives? and that we had so much potential when we were kids, and we better not waste it now? that not everyone is so lucky to be able to choose between so many things?? 

because being asked to choose between these things isn’t being asked to choose a hobby. when the only way anyone else defines you positively is by your success in one area, that becomes your entire identity. 

so no, we’re not being too sensitive when you ask us to pick and choose what career, or what hobby to take forward. you’re not asking about hobbies. you’re asking us to choose what kind of person we want to be. you’re asking us to choose the most impactful way we can give back to the world, because we can’t waste those god-given talents. you’re asking us to figure out, still a child and hopelessly lost, what our purpose on this planet is. and you’re looking at us as if the ways that we survived all of these years, the things we clung to for comfort, are things we can just cast aside without further thought

ask me now, and I’ll tell you that’s not the way things work. we have second chances and third ones and tenth ones, we can be different things to different people and we can do different things at different parts in our lives, and be successful in different areas. life isn’t a fucking flowchart. and I’m still trying to come to terms with all the things I could have been, and my freak-outs about ‘wasted potential’ are so clockwork I could plan my calendar around them, but I’m beginning to understand that life doesn’t end when you’re twenty, or when you haven’t written a best-seller by eighteen. you have time.   

but at fifteen? at fifteen, that question broke me. 

do you know what you can do instead? you can show a little thoughtfulness. you can be kinder, and lead by example, and praise your kids when they’re kind too. when your son runs to you and shows you what you think is a better picture than you - a stick figure artisan, if you say so yourself - could ever create, you can actually just say you really like it. you can ask him if that’s him and daddy and the dog on a cloud. describe the picture back to him, and engage with this thing he’s made from his imagination - tell him the clouds he’s drawn are so big and fluffy and white, and ask if there are giant spiders living there. you know how to shut a child up? tell them yes dear, it’s wonderful. don’t be that person. promote your kid’s creativity - ask questions, have fun, play with this thing they’ve made - and not destroy it

when your daughter comes to you and shows you a song she’s written, don’t tell her she’s so talented or that she could be a musician one day. just sing along. ask her why she wrote it, and what she was thinking of when she did. ask her if she could make it different for two people singing it at the same time. 

and if your child just really, really loves maths? let them do maths. it’s ok if their interests are stereotypical - as long as they love it and it’s fun, supporting them is wonderful. the best present my father ever got me was five hours of tutoring - an introduction to linguistics!! - when I turned twelve, starting on my birthday at 8am. I had never felt so understood and so loved. 

as much as these simple things can destroy someone’s life, can stop them talking for a year, you have the chance to be that one voice of kindness that is a friend where a young person needs it most. 

for me, this was the Bus Lady. I never knew her first name because I forgot immediately and was too embarrassed to ask again, but we got the bus together for two years right before I applied to university - she was a trainee teacher at my school. she saw that I missed tutor group and sat in the corridor every morning writing, and that I ran laps for an hour every lunchtime instead of sitting alone. but she came and sat with me one morning and asked what I was doing; I was developing a new shorthand and told her so warily. 

she didn’t raise her eyebrows or say wow, that’s...that’s amazing. instead she frowned and looked at me skeptically and said ‘But why would you do that? There are plenty of functional shorthands out there - what does your shorthand have that they don’t? Tell me about it.’

I had no idea what to say

this was the first time anyone had actually ENGAGED in any capacity with what I was doing. and just like that, just by treating me seriously and asking valid questions and pointing out inconsistencies, I was a person who happened to have an idea that was in some serious need of questioning, and not a freak

there’s no way she remembers that interaction; she’s been a teacher now for year and probably doesn’t even remember who I am. But I had been this close to not going to university, to not bothering, and she made me stop, and wait a moment

she will never know the difference that that conversation and two months of kindness on the bus from a stranger made in my life. 

so let’s be kind to each other, please. let’s be forgiving. let’s challenge each other and let’s engage with kids with special interests and listen to them talk. and so to any educators or teachers or parents or even other kids, I want to say - let’s treat our words seriously and with respect, like we treat our children, because they have immense capacity to hurt, because they can be used for good. 

to any other fifteen year olds in a similar position, I just want to say: none of us here on tumblr have properly sorted our lives out, but I promise you it does get so much better.

you’re not too sensitive. you’re not a freak. you’re not only acceptable because you succeed. I know if you’re masking you feel you have to and it’s for survival, and I’m sorry, because you shouldn’t have to. and you should never, never have to think that you ‘have it good’ or that you’re lucky and are not allowed to hurt. there’s always some one who has it worse, and you can’t stop beat yourself up about that. fuck anyone who tells you otherwise. if you have gone through trauma, if you have unhealthy coping mechanisms, if you are depressed or anxious or otherwise mentally ill and some of it stems from this, I am so very very sorry. but you will be ok, even if you can’t write for a couple of years, or even if things change. you’ll get there. speaking as someone who is now writing for the first time in six years, drawing for the first time in longer, it’s scary and new and weird, but you will come out the other side. 

and you do work hard. and you are creative. and you are loved. and you are so very, very kind.

*rant over*

[fanfics-with-coffee]

Crybaby memories Ch. 3

Look at me, posting yet another chapter just a week after chapter 2 instead of months, I’m amazed at myself honestly.

Y/n finally returns to Japan after 10 years to finish her last year of the hero course at UA. But what she didn’t realize was that she would have to meet her old childhood friends and face her past, something she had left in Japan. And can Bakugou really make up for the mistake he regrets the most? Or maybe you’d do best to just forget about the explosive blonde.

Genre: Angst and fluff Pairing: Bakugou x reader Words: 4500~ 

Childhood friends AU

Ch.2 <- -> Ch.4

“Hey, Shinsou, that’s cheating!”

“It’s not cheating if it’s a game mechanic.”

The noise level in the dorm’s living room was rising by the second as the group currently playing finished their last lap on Mario Kart. As Sero passed the finish line in second place, he let his head fall back with a groan. Shinsou sat beside him with a satisfied smile, the switch controller comfortably in his hands. Jirou and Hagakure just took their loss with dignity and grace, congratulating Shinsou on his continued win streak.

“That’s pretty amazing. Five games in a row and not a single loss…” Jirou gave an exhausted smile while putting an arm on the backrest of the couch.

Most of the class had come together to play some Mario Kart to de-stress after the past three weeks of hard work and studying. Y/n had joined them, sitting on one of the “non-player” couches that had formed with glee as she watched her classmates play. What had begun as a friendly game of Mario Kart 8 was now a competition to see who could knock Shinsou from the pedestal he had built from his friends' losses. So far, no one had obviously succeeded and she wasn’t about to try. She’d barely played before and with the tension that had been built, it wasn’t exactly prime time to get her hands on a controller. Yet she had so far been the only one there who hadn’t played.

“Don’t you wanna try playing too, y/n?” Tsuyu leaned over the back of the couch y/n sat on, looking at her before looking back to the screen. At that point, a couple of other people also noticed that she had been sitting on the non-player couch since she had arrived. 

“I’m fine, it’s okay! I mean, I wouldn’t want to embarrass Shinsou like that after he’s been winning.” She teased, playfully sending Shinsou a pitiful glance. He just scoffed, sinking further down in his seat.

“You’re very welcome to try.” He knew she was just messing with him but the challenge was serious. A quiet laugh went around the room, making the competition even more enticing. The silence that came after as the party music played idly in the background was even worse, her classmates were waiting for y/n’s reply. She looked at Shinsou and pursed her lips, crossing her arms tightly.

“Hmmgh… Fine. I will try it, as a matter of fact.” She finally got up from her spot and Hagakure moved up from the player couch, the two exchanged seats and controllers. Y/n felt a hand on her shoulder reassuringly yet the invisible girl giggled a little on passing. She did not, in fact, feel reassured when she sat down. Everyone else got ready themselves, y/n praying that she had understood enough of the game to be able to put up somewhat of a fight.

Once the game counted down from 3, the cheering started once again. Some people were still excited to see Shinsou wipe the floor with the competition but a fair share of the other classmates were cheering on literally anyone other than the purple-haired man. And while Jirou had caught up in a second-place lead, y/n was lagging behind at a meekly 7th place and Sero stayed between being 3rd and 4th. It was kinda embarrassing if you thought about it, but y/n was luckily having a good time either way. Despite having to ask quite a few questions, often involving what had just hit her, the rest of the group was as supportive as ever. Mina had even taken to massaging y/n’s shoulders, pumping her up like a coach to their boxing champion in the ring. 

“Come on y/n! You can do this, loose and limber, loose and limber!” 

“Mina, I am in a car! I cannot be loose!”

“Just be limber then!”

In the end, Shinsou just put another win to his long list of victories as everyone groaned and sighed. Well apart from his supporters, like Denki, who just gave him a high five and cheered. Y/n leaned back in her seat, partially defeated but far from surprised. Despite that, she was smiling, putting her controller in her lap and looking towards the commotion besides her. She watched Jirou and Sero prodding at Shinsou, trying to get the secret to his wins out of him while Kaminari was trying to explain it to them despite him having lost to the guy earlier. But leaning a little forward, she saw someone else in the background, doing something in the kitchen that was situated in the corner. 

Bakugou. 

Her eyes followed him for just a moment, watching him get a glass of water. It hit her that he hadn’t been part of the game night at any point during the evening. Last time she had seen him was in class before he had most likely gone and hid in his room again. She pursed her lips, debating if she should call out to him or let him retreat. But she remembered something.

“Y/n you really suck at this, you’re lucky we didn’t bet anything or you’d go home empty handed!” Bakugou heckled the girl sitting besides him, leaning back against the side of his bed with a shit eating grin. The girl on the other hand was leaning forwards, frowning while her elbows were supported on his knees, the controller still gripped in her hands. His TV was situated on a short dresser, the gaming console placed on the ground in front of them.

“C’mon, once more! I was so close that time!” She said, looking back at him with determined eyes. The blonde boy had been winning all evening but y/n never gave up, she wanted to prove him and his bragging wrong. She always did, whenever he tried to outshine her she bit back, turning it into a near never ending competition. He just examined the girl's face, letting his eyes drift across her lips and big eyes. 

“Fine, one more time. But you really gotta learn this time y/n or you’ll fall behind again.”

Maybe, if anyone, Bakugou could knock down the reigning emperor of Mario Kart and free the people from his tyrannical grasp of the racing scene.

Bakugou had already filled his glass with water and drank it too by the time y/n decided to interrupt his evening. He placed the glass in the washing machine and turned around, giving the group of people a look as he’s about to head back up the stairs. But as he does, watching the scene unfold, he makes eye contact with the girl who has been shamelessly staring at him. He froze and suddenly a feeling of dread worked it’s way up his chest, a grin forming on the girls lips.

“Hey Bakugou!” The room went silent as y/n raised her voice to call out to the man on the other side of the dorm. People’s heads turned, confused but intrigued by why she had called out to him. “Come play with us.” She said simply, and yet the smile that was supposed to be innocent felt more malevolent than anything. If you had asked Bakugou.

The room waited for his answer with held breaths, she knew she had put him on the spot. She was enjoying the tough situation she had created but she wouldn’t have done it if she didn’t genuinely think that he might be the one who could win at least one game against Shinsou. He, on the other hand, felt his heart race. Not because she had asked, but because he wasn’t prepared. He had made it clear from when they first even started these game nights that he wasn’t going to take part. He had been baited into it once or twice but he had never made it a regular occurance and never when they asked him to play. He simply had more important things to get done rather than waste his time on shit that wouldn’t get him anywhere in the long run. He wasn’t a kid anymore.

“No.” He replied just as simply as she had asked, causing Shinsou to chuckle and flick through the game menus since he hadn’t believed that Bakugou would play from the beginning. But apparently the rest of the class wasn’t as quick to accept his answer, having caught on to y/n’s intentions.

“Come one, Bakugou! Just this once!” Kirishima was already halfway across the distance between the kitchen and the couch, clearly about to try and drag Bakugou with him. But the explosive blonde wouldn’t have any of it, getting ready to either smack his hands away or literally run back to his dorm room, you could see it in the way he placed his feet and furrowed his brows.

“You really think I’m going to sit here and listen to every idiot down here screaming over a fucking game? Hell no! You all sound like children!” He said loudly, dodging a grip from Kirishima with an easy side step, turning his body to now angrily walk away.

“Doesn’t he usually screm the most though?” Kaminari looked to the rest of the class with a confused face, not minding that Bakugou wouldn’t play. He was happily supporting Shinsou and his victory run ever since declaring himself manager over “team purple”. But everyone else ignored him, knowing they had to come up with something good to make Bakugou stay. Sero thought the quickest.

“We need you to win!” He yelled, climbing up to his knees and leaning over the back of the couch to try and make his voice reach Bakugou before he left. That seemed to make him stop but not turn around. Only his head twitches to the side to hear a little better. Luckily Midoriya followed Sero’s train of thoughts and also spoke up.

“It’s true! We’ve all tried and failed, you know? Shinsou has been crushing us all, you’re probably the only one who can win by now.” He had also stood up, riling up the rest of the class as they called out for somebody to help them. Bakugou thought about it for a second before turning around to look at the group, his arms crossed over his chest as it often was when he was undecided or unwilling. Midoriya looked at y/n who had started this whole thing, grabbing her arm gently but with urgency. She knew that she had to join in and rose from her seat, standing besides the other hero.

“We can’t do it, Bakugou! He’s just too good. I’ve only seen one other player who had been at his level and it’s… you!” She said with emphasis, looking him dead in the eyes. It was so overdramatic it almost hurt but that was kind of the point right now. And apparently it worked, Bakugou sighed and rolled his eyes but let his arms fall to his side. The soft sounds of his steps coming closer made everyone cheer and raise their arms.

“Holy crap, you guys really are losers. It’s just a fucking game. I’ll play once, but only to beat Shinsou and make you guy’s shut the hell up. Once I do, I’m leaving and I expect to not be disrupted ever again for this stupid shit.” He was swearing like a sailor, begrudgingly squeezing in between the couch and the table, grabbing the controller from Jirou who had stood up to switch. She passed by y/n and sat down on one of the empty cushion seats next to the couches, happy to finally get to watch others lose instead of losing.

Y/n hadn’t thought about the fact that Bakugou might sit next to her until he actually sat down in between her and Sero. Her eyes widened just a little and her breath got stuck in her throat when she felt his thigh pressing against hers, pushing her more into the corner as he got comfortable. And when he leaned back, his naked arm brushed roughly against her own before she shuffled into the corner even more. She really shouldn’t have reacted as strongly as she did, it wasn’t exactly weird to sit like this and she was almost just as close with Jirou. Yet the warmth he radiated made her own cheeks heat up if just slightly. She needed to get out of that situation before her embarrassment got any worse.

“Hey does anyone else wanna play, by the way? I’m fine with just watching again.” She stood up, trying to be casual as she held the controller in one hand and looked around to see if someone was about to change place with her. But before anyone could even open their mouth, a hand had already grabbed her arm and was pulling her back down on the couch.

“Oi, don’t you dare force me to play this dumb game and then just fucking leave. You’re playing too, dumbass.” Bakugou was absolutely blaming y/n for having called out to him and wasn’t about to let her get off the hook just because she didn’t want to play anymore. Not that he fully realized what he was doing to her right now, he was more focused on getting this done and over with. 

Y/n gasped as she was pulled back down on the comfy couch, the seat easily catching her. And despite the fact that Bakugou had been a little rough in saying it, people seemed to agree that she should play a little more since she had barely gotten the chance to. So with a “grateful” smile, she settled into her seat once more as Shinsou picked a couple tracks to play and started a cup.

The track appeared on screen, the countdown heard loud and clear in the now quiet room. Bakugou leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, giving the screen his undivided attention. Y/n did something similar, putting her feet down on the ground as if it would help her keep her balance in game. Sero had relaxed a little, not too worried about winning or losing. Right now it wasn’t a competition against every other player, it was a team battle. 3 vs 1. And he had Bakugou on his side.

The signal went off and the cars sped away on the track, Shinsou taking the lead of the pack. But just as y/n had expected, Bakugou was right behind him. Herself, on the other hand, had missed the shot at the speed boost and was right now battling against the CPU’s who were surrounding her. Sero was at least making some space between him and the clung of people crashing their cars together at the start. 

It didn’t take long before people noticed that Bakugou actually could have a chance at this. Most had been at least a little uncertain about his abilities as a Mario kart racer, they hadn’t seen him play basically anything. But y/n knew that racing games had been his favourite game to play whenever she came over, often blabbering on and on about all the secrets he knew about whatever new or old game he had decided they were going to compete in that day. And after almost every new thing he told her excitedly, he asked “did ya know that? Betcha didn’t.” he had always been so proud. So now when he was faced with a challenge, y/n sitting next to him, he had to prove how right he was and always had been. 

“HEY, who the hell left a banana peel right on the landing ramp?!”

Shinsou snickered at the outburst, obviously amused that his scheme had worked but he had been a lot less casual during this second, going on third lap around the track. He had absolutely been one of the people who had doubted the blondes abilities but as soon as he realized he wasn’t up against any ordinary casual player, he had upped his focus. It did manage to keep him in lead, if just barely. He had once or twice dipped into second place but Bakugou never kept that first place spot for more than a couple seconds. 

“Y/n you don’t need to use all your mushrooms at once, you know?” Mina was still standing behind her friend, watching the match and between being entranced by the fight for the first spot, she kept an eye on her playing. 

“What? Why?!” Y/n exclaimed, unable to even spare a confused look to her.

“You won’t go any faster, save them for when you need them!” She not so eloquently explained, grabbing the back of the couch.

“I won’t?!”

Red eyes darted away from his square of the screen, looking at the girl's corner. The shock of the conversation had pulled him from his focus and forced him to react.

“Have you been using all your fucking mushrooms at once?! Are you dumb or something, space them out!” Bakugou shouted, mildly angered by the loose use of items. 

“Well I didn’t know that!”

“It’s basic Mario Kart knowledge!”

“You’re basic Mario Kart knowledge!” Was the only thing y/n could retort with, a laugh chasing after her sentence as her brain caught up with the obscure nature of the argument. And that seemed to loosen the tension that had built in the room, as much as Bakugou’s face had turned even more sour, she could feel his tensed thighs relax against hers. 

“Wait, where the hell am I?” In her loud discussion about the proper use of mushrooms, she had managed to take a wrong turn and ended up on a road she hadn’t seen before. Shinsou and Bakugou had been liberarily using the shortcuts that the track allowed but to y/n, these were unknown territory and she had gotten stuck in a corner somewhere unknown. She turned and twisted to no avail, the Lakitu floating down to tell her she needed to do a U-turn. To where? She didn’t know. “Uh oh, where the fuck do I go?!”

“Y/n, you're in a shortcut, how’d you even get in there?” Sero noticed her predicament, trying to sound calm as his eyes flickered between his own screen and hers.

“I dunno, suddenly I’m just stuck and this little turtle guy just keeps telling me I’m going the wrong way!” 

“Okay, well calm down. You should just need to turn righ– no wait lef–!” Sero didn’t even get to finish his sentence until Bakugou moved his hand.

“It’s fucking obvious you need to take a right here and then just follow the damn road!” His left hand moved from his own controller, suddenly enveloping y/n’s hands as he placed his thumb over hers, steering her car for her. He didn’t even look at her as he did it, just stared at the screen. Y/n snapped her head to look at his, shocked and embarrassed. Had her mouth not already been open, it would have fallen open once his hand was over hers. 

His thumb gently but adamantly pushed hers in the right direction, all she had to do was hold in the gas button and within seconds she was on track again. And as soon as his hand had moved there, it was gone again. Her hands suddenly felt cold as the cool air hit them. 

What was this? The third time he had touched her hand with his. It wasn’t a big deal, it wasn’t even often that it happened. But why did the feeling keep lingering in her mind every time, her heart raced whenever she thought about it and his face appeared in her head. 

She couldn’t think about it too much before her focus needed to be pulled back to the game. 

“Oh uh, thanks.” Her volume had gone down significantly, she was even unsure if Bakugou could hear her above the music and sounds of the game. She kinda hoped he didn’t, she kinda hoped nobody even noticed what had just happened just to make sure nobody ever brought it up again. 

But somebody did notice. At the end of the second non-player couch Kirishima had seen the whole thing, a wide smile forming on his face as it started to click in his head what may or may not be happening. 

Bakugou had sacrificed just a couple seconds of full speed to help y/n, which he was paying for during the final half of the last lap. People were at the edge of their seats, their eyes glued to the television. Sero was only a couple seconds behind Bakugou and y/n was still fighting for a top 50% ranking. She refused to give up though, no matter how little of a shot she had at even making it top 5. 

Her car crashed through another mystery box. She kept her eyes intently on her item slot, watching as it randomized, praying that she would get something more useful than a banana peel. And there it was, neatly displayed in her corner.

A blue shell.

Her heart skipped a beat, her hands gripping her controller.

“Holy crap…” She whispered to herself but the tone of her voice caught Bakugou’s attention and he looked at what she was reacting to. 

“Throw it, y/n!” 

He didn’t have to tell her twice, she pressed the button and watched as it raced away towards the first place holder. Shinsou had barely realized what was happening until he saw it go just off screen for y/n. The other students were once again in an uproar, the laughter and cheers over the top but the whole scenario had riled them up to an unnecceracy degree.

Bakugou kept his place, making sure that when the shell hit Shinsou he could pass him and take the first place. Sero even took to driving closer to the rim to make sure it didn’t hit him instead. And just as he did, the shell passed by his screen, once again earning a wave of excitement from the crowd. Finally, it came into view on Bakugou’s screen.

And half a second later it hit Shinsou.

“Shit!” 

The finish line was in their viewt at this point. Bakugou swiftly took the first place as Shinsou’s car spun. He only managed to stop spinning on the track in time to see the other male cross the finish line. 

People had stood up to cheer, Kirishima and Midoriya putting their arms over each other's shoulders to jump up and down. Uraraka along with Momo, Jirou and Tsuyu had all raised their arms on the couch, doing the wave while laughing. Mina even hugged y/n from behind, even though she hadn’t even finished the race. Only Kaminari and Shinsou didn’t become overjoyed at the new winner, which wasn’t exactly a surprise. 

Shinsou got an amicable second place and Sero came in third. Y/n was happy she did manage to get 5th place at the end of it. To her, that was basically at least a second place and celebrated it as such. She had been the one to make sure Bakugou could win after all.

“Honestly, I feel like that was kinda cheating, you guys were all ganging up on me.” Shinsou sighed, leaning back on the couch once again but in a much more defeated manner. 

“Well you know, Shinsou…” Sero let a smug smile creep across his face. “It’s not cheating… if it’s a game mechanic.” 

Shinsou looked at him, expressionless for a second as he tried to come up with a reply. But once he realized he couldn’t beat his own words, he just let the win go, joining in on the laughing instead. After all, it was just a game.

“Told ya’ll you guys were just losers! This is why I don’t even play with you extras, I win too easily.” Bakugou was sporting a cocky grin, putting his hands behind his head in a casual manner and leaning back. And while some of the others might just give him a cheeky comment on his ego every once in a while, they decided to let him have it this once. He had been their saviour after all.

“So you’re… not going to stay and play another game?” Y/n asked him, willfully putting on an innocent act to maybe tempt him into playing another game. She gathered her courage and even leaned a little closer to him, her arm pressing against his side since he still had his arms up. She was basically tucked under his arm as he was frozen in place at the contact. But y/n was convincing herself that she was just teasing him, she would do this to any of her classmates… at least she says so herself.

Bakugou looked at her big eyes and pouting lips, a little surprised that she had even asked. He remembered his words in the beginning, saying he was going to leave once he had helped them. But he had to admit, though he was strongly opposed to being wrong, that it had been kind of fun. He loved his racing games and it was nice having everyone cheer him on like that. Plus, he hadn’t had the chance to play Mario Kart 8 as much as he had wanted but he still knew a couple tricks he could show off to the others.

“...Fine. One more time, but you gotta pay attention to what I teach you or else I’m leaving. I’m not about to waste my time if you’re not going to listen.”

“Fine, one more time. But you really gotta learn this time y/n or you’ll fall behind again.”

“Hey, I thought I was her manager!” Mina looked offended, putting one hand on her chest and the other on y/n’s shoulder, pulling her away from Bakugou to make a point. Even Kirishima came up to listen in on the conversation, having totally been ready to help y/n convince Bakugou to play another round. 

“Oh shut up, as if you could beat me in Mario Kart, I’m obviously her best choice as a mana– Wait, what the hell do you mean manager?! Why do any of you even have managers, it’s just a dumb game!” Bakugou had caught himself even just entertaining the thought of being y/n’s manager and got frustrated, waving his hand around. First motioning to y/n and Mina and then Denki and Shinsou who had started talking tactics between each other.

Mina was about to retort but Kirishima stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder and not so subtly bringing his head closer to hers. He covered his mouth and whispered something to Mina with a smile. She was nodding along all the while both y/n and Bakugou were turned to look at them standing behind the couch. But soon the pinkette smiled and looked to Kirishima, nodding her head. 

“Alright Bakugou, you drive a hard bargain. I’ll step down as y/n’s manager but only if she comes with us to the arcade tomorrow.” She crosses her arms as if it was her final offer in a million dollar deal.

“WHY ARE YOU EVEN OFFERING ME THAT?! I CAN’T MAKE HER COME WITH US– A-AND I DON’T EVEN WANT TO BE HER DAMN MANAGER EITHER!” Bakugou looked like he was about to climb over the back of the couch any second now and strangle her, but she stood her ground.

“The arcade?”– y/n asked, surprised by the invitation– “Well sure, why not! I’ll come. If Bakugou plays another round.”

“I ALREADY FUCKING SAID I WILL, DO NONE OF YOU LISTEN TO ME?!”

[2manyfandoms2count]

The set up - Chapter 3

Alya being a good friendTM to Marinette; she can't really launch operation: Ladrien without checking that her friend isn't secretly harbouring feelings for one Chat Noir (or anybody else, for that matter)... Actual Ladrien to come next chapter. Hope you enjoy this one in the meantime!

First | Previous | AO3

---

Chapter 3

Alya felt like she was walking on air (and really, she probably would have been, were she not sitting at her desk, browsing through the Ladyblog archive).

Her week was just unironically the gift that kept on giving; every day seemed to bring something to extend her smile a little further towards her ears. People really weren’t kidding when they said things had to get worse before they got better; after having witnessed her relationship with her best friend slowly unravel, before full on ripping, things had indeed become better, the stitching between them feeling tighter than ever. It felt like she’d simultaneously won the national lottery and the Euromillion, and that she’d received a personal invitation to intern for the most competitive news channel in Paris, without having applied for any of it. Really, things were good.

As she waited for a new tab to load (she was far from the maximum she’d ever reached while conducting research, but evidently it was enough for her computer to protest), she spared a loving thought for Nino. She hoped he hadn’t taken the fact that she’d been very antsy the whole time he’d been hanging out with her, and then that she’d almost literally slammed the door behind him when he’d left badly; her urge to go and scream excitedly into a pillow had just been too strong, and even though she was usually all for being sappy at the door, she'd had to take her leave to avoid risking Marinette's secret.

She understood her boyfriend's disarray and his distress at the news that his friends probably wouldn’t end up together, no matter how hard he tried, and she couldn’t really blame him. In fact, she actually supposed that she should take the blame for his reaction; she'd maybe, somewhat, oversold double dates with Adrien and Marinette in the past, and maybe even triple dates involving the duo and Ladybug and Chat Noir. She’d had to grieve the latter, but she was hell-bent on making the former happen, although maybe not the way she’d considered it before - if Marinette was still open to the idea, of course.

She picked up her phone, dialled her friend’s number, and stuck it between her ear and her shoulder, opening an email tab on her computer and starting to copy and paste links in it.

“Heyyyy girl, how’s my favourite Lady doing?” She smirked upon hearing Marinette's greeting.

There was an audible sigh on the other end of the line. “Alya, I know you’re trying to be subtle, but please don’t call me that.” Alya knew her friend well enough to discern the slight warning edge underlying her joking tone.

“Why? Because that nickname’s saved for a certain catboy?” She stuck her tongue out cheekily, even though her friend couldn’t see it.

Marinette paused, and Alya was almost certain that if she turned the camera on, she’d witness her cheeks flaming up at the mere mention of romance between her and her partner. Man, it’s good to be back, she sighed happily. She’d missed teasing her best friend.

“Come on, Alya, you know that’s ridiculous,” the latter scoffed.

“Is it, though?” Alya hit the send button. “Check your email.”

“What are you - oh Kwami,” she gasped. Alya leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she went through the content her friend was discovering. “Alya, why did you send me all these romantic collages of me and Chat?”

“Because I wanted you to see why I thought you guys were a thing.” She overheard Nadja Chamack’s voice on Marinette’s side and quickly started the footage of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s interview herself.

Marinette grunted. “Ugh, I really didn’t need to be reminded of that. It was so embarrassing.”

“Because it's hard to deny the evidence, maybe?” Alya was aware that she was starting to push a little far, but she promised herself she’d change the subject soon, if Marinette didn’t take care of it herself.

“I know what it looks like, okay?” She could almost see her friend rubbing her temples in frustration. “But I promise you, he’s really just a friend.”

“Okay! Noted.” Alya closed her Ladynoir tabs, and was greeted with two pictures, side by side: Adrien and Marinette dancing in the moonlight in New York, and Adrien clutching Ladybug in his arms as they descended along the Tour Montparnasse.

“It’s unlike you to give up so easily, what are you up to?” Alya knew her friend was probably squinting suspiciously as she spoke.

“Nothing! Can’t a girl just believe her best friend when she tells her about her feelings?” Marinette harrumphed doubtfully, which Alya took as a cue to move on to the crispier matter at stake. “But speaking of ‘just a friend’s, I kind of want to circle back to something - I’m happy with you swearing off love for the time being if you really think that's what's best for you right now, even though I’ll miss planning double dates, but are you sure it’s what you want?”

The couple of minutes it took for Marinette to organise her thoughts had Alya think she’d be sent packing. She was surprised when her friend replied softly. “I just don’t think it would be very wise. It's kind of tiring, you know? Like, I really enjoyed dating Luka, he was so patient with me and so thoughtful, but it taught me that without revealing my secret, I can’t make myself available enough to have a healthy relationship. Add to that the fact that I don’t even know if Adrien likes me that way, if it’s worth going through the pain of the lies again… I’d rather just wait it out.”

Alya nodded silently. “So it’s mostly the fact that you can’t reveal your secret identity that’s making you feel that way.”

“I guess so, yes.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Alya chuckled. “Not so long ago, you were practically ready to give away your first child if it meant you’d end up with Adrien, and now look at you. I’m proud of you, Marinette. You’re being so strong.”

“I’m pretty sure it was my first three children, actually, but yeah.” She could tell her friend was smiling, and she was glad that she’d made that happen.

“Okay, well. We’re just going to have to work harder to take down Hawkmoth, aren’t we? Which won't be too problematic, given that we have all the time we used to dedicate to the variations of operation: secret garden that's now free,” Alya replied with as much affection as she could so it would carry over without the smile it was associated with.

“Sounds like a plan!” Marinette chuckled. “Want to come over tomorrow after school, to help me with the Grimoire?”

“That sounds great. See you tomorrow, bestie!”

“Thanks, Alya.”

Alya hung up and made a mental note to hug her friend the next day, just to remind her that she was happy to help and that she’d always be there. The girl really deserved it.

Then, she zoomed in on the picture of Adrien and Ladybug.

She understood Marinette’s reluctance to start a relationship if she couldn’t be as honest as possible with her partner. But what her friend failed to see was that she had a massive loophole on her side; for all intents and purposes, she had two secret identities - Ladybug, as Marinette, and Marinette, as Ladybug. And hiding Ladybug’s "secret" identity seemed a lot easier to achieve, especially if Adrien really worshipped the ground she walked on. Knowing him, he'd probably be very respectful of the boundaries the superhero set regarding the mask.

She just needed to get the two of them together somehow, reverse Uno card-ing her friend with the technique that had gotten her and Nino together.

Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, she mentally sing-sang as she started jotting down her ideas on a blank document. Looking at the list, she declared operation: Ladrien a go.

[dcbbw]

For Riam, baby. And tell me something I don't already know. MWAH HA HA.

17. Share a sfw headcanon about one of your OTPs (optional: a specific pairing).

18. Share a nsfw headcanon about one of your OTPs (optional: a specific pairing).

Heeyy, @sirbeepsalot! Check below the cut, and be warned, there is some slight NSFW in there.

17. SFW

The King of Cordonia sat at his desk in the study he shared with his wife and Queen at their Valtorian estate. His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard of the laptop as he logged into one of the Crown’s many bank accounts.

He smelled Riley before he felt or saw her, and a slight smile flitted across his lips as rose, vanilla, and jasmine wafted through the air. He swiveled the desk chair so he faced her. “Good morning, love,” he murmured before rising to help her across the room.

The Queen made a face when his lips kissed her cheek. “Cook hasn’t brought breakfast up yet?”

“I asked her to wait until you were awake. I know you like your breakfast foods hot,” Liam explained as he rubbed her belly. He grinned when he felt Fric and Frac respond enthusiastically to his touch.

“Thank you,” Riley said, leaning into Liam’s palm pressed against the small of her back as he led her to her favorite chair.

She settled into the colorful orange patchwork Barcalounger Liam had had installed, sitting quietly as her husband fluffed pillows behind her back before fetching her tablet, phone, and morning yogurt. Riley texted Gladys, her house’s majordomo with her meal request; her eyes lifted from the screen to see her husband studying the bank account numbers.

“What are you doing?” she questioned.

“Sending the Walkers their monthly payment.”

When Liam found out during preparations for the Beaumont-Walker wedding in Texas that none of the Walkers had received absolutely nothing regarding their promised stipends for the untimely death of Jackson Walker, the King had been devastated at his father’s actions or lack thereof.

Riley had not been.

Constantine was as big an asshole in death as he had been in life.

Despite the Walkers insisting that they were fine and it wasn’t Liam’s fault, the monarchs held a meeting with Rashad, Bertrand, and the Minister of Finance to discuss righting such a grievous error; after substantial, initial lump sum payments, Bianca and her children began receiving stipends on a monthly basis. Liam knew he could set up the disbursements to deposit automatically, but he felt it was more … personal when he transferred the money manually.

“Don’t forget to take my rent out before you pay them!” Riley reminded her husband.

“You neither live in nor own any property in Texas, Riley”

“And how would YOU know?”

“You also do not live at Ramsford.”

“I DID! ANNND I’m an honorary Beaumont. That estate belongs to me too!”

Liam’s fingers tapped away. “Unfortunately, you are NOT in their line of succession.”

“All I know is, I’d better have some rent money in my account. THIS MORNING! I mean, you are paying them so they can pay me, right?”

Liam rolled his eyes and shook his head as he transferred funds; he paused briefly to toss his wife a quick glance. He saw her playing on her tablet, face scrunched slightly in concentration as her eyes darted over the screen.

“Are you finished yet?” Riley asked. “I need a snack and for you to check on breakfast.”

Liam logged out of the banking website and pushed back his seat. “I am.”

He rose, and walked to a far wall where he pulled a bowl of peeled oranges from the mini-refrigerator. He took them to Riley, leaning over to snatch her lips in a kiss. The Queen eagerly took the bowl and ardently returned Liam’s kiss.

“Okay, get outta here. Bring back pancakes and bacon, with LOTS of butter and syrup!” The Queen demanded as she shoved pieces of citrus in her mouth.

When she heard the study door close behind Liam, Riley grabbed her tablet and logged into her personal banking account. Her eyes studied her balance before she made three funds transfers of $10,000 each, with the memo:

In honor of Jackson Walker’s service and sacrifice. Thank you.

18. NSFW

Riley hisses as the leather belt cracks against her skin; a red whelp instantly raises on her thigh. I watch the reaction on other parts of her body: the thinning of her plump lips, the hardening of her nipples. Her arms, raised above her head and handcuffed to the wall, quiver slightly.

Her eyes are hidden behind a blindfold, but I imagine them closed with her lashes fanned against her cheekbones.

God, she’s so beautiful. I hardly dare to believe she’s mine; or rather, I’m hers. Yes, it was my social season but make no mistake, she chose me; I was the one in competition for her heart and affections.

I pull her into an embrace, careful to stay away from the punished skin until I can rub aloe vera gel on it. My lips find the crook of her neck and I begin sucking and pulling on her flesh, gently at first but her moans and whimpers are fueling my lust for her.

I reach between her legs to push her thighs apart; her hips arch forward of their own volition, her center seeking my member. I take my cock in my hand, using the tip to tease the hood of her sex. She bites her lip before whispering my name. I smirk to myself as I release her hands, rubbing her wrists vigorously.

“Face the wall,” I say in her ear as I gently turn her around.

I wrap my arms around her waist and she relaxes her body, leaning into me. The pads of my thumbs flick and pinch her nipples while I place kisses along the nape of her neck. My knees bend as I squat to kiss along her spine; I reach the top of her buttocks. My hands fall from her breasts to palm her ass; my thumb is now pressing against her most secret of holes.

I feel her body stiffen and see her ass cheeks clench.

And I inwardly curse myself.

The trauma my wife suffered not a dozen years before scarred her both physically and psychologically. This area of her body is off-limits to everyone, even herself. And most certainly to me.

I remove the offending digit, and quickly stand, murmuring apologies. She lets out a shaky sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes.

I hold her, telling her with my silence there is nothing for her to apologize for. I remove the blindfold. Her hands lift mine back to her breasts, and I again turn her so I may lavish her nipples and areolas. She sinks to the carpet under my ministrations and I soon follow. I pause to tend to her whelp, softly rubbing the gel into her skin.

“How does that feel?” I ask, my eyes searching hers.

She nods, a small smile on her face. My head drops between her legs and I kiss and lick the inside of her thighs. Her arousal tickles my nose, and I feel my manhood hardening even more. Her fingers fall into my hair, combing and twisting my hair between them. I wince as I feel the fingers fist and pull me by my hair away from her center.

I look up to see love, fear, and uncertainty play across her face.

“I love you,” she rasps.

“I love you more,” I respond with a trace of confusion in my tone.

“I trust you.”

I nod slowly, wondering where the conversation is headed.

“You can have me. All of me.”

And she rolls over onto her stomach.

#dcbbw #answers #writer’s asks #some nsfw

[octalove]

VIII: Struck by Lightning

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Reader makes a confession, and goes on a date. Previous.

TW: Brief mention of gore (just blood)

In the weeks succeeding the Little Italy mission, I found a rhythm in the two conflicting heartbeats of my life. Occasionally, I met with Jason to file down the multitude of criminals who opposed him (it wasn’t all rescuing orphans and kittens, but his justice was fair and swift), and other than that, I carried on with life as normal; both as myself, and Batgirl. It was an inconsistent, exciting balancing act.

I tried to humor Bruce’s transparent attempts to placate me with cold cases, deeming it study. My school work had unsurprisingly lost its appeal, and I found myself rocking in the river banks of what was sure to be a failing grade in most of my classes- though I had yet to run ashore. Yet.

I danced along, despite my reprisal (a lack of sleep, and white lies on either side), and overall there was a certain stalemate. With that, peace. Or at least, the closest I could get.

On a Saturday I happened to have free (to my great relief), I woke up at one in the afternoon, to a blessedly dim day that kept the light in my room dark enough to cradle my lie-in.

I washed the sleep from my face, and stumbled downstairs, muscles sore from a Thursday night mission with Jason at the Port (of which I told my family I was going to a party). Tim was the only one in the kitchen- looking like he, too, had just crawled out of bed. He was eating cereal in silence.

We hadn’t been avoiding each other, per say- just got wrapped up in our own routines. Routines that kept me out of the house, and him trapped within it.

“Morning.” I said.

“Mm.” He replied.

I poured out my own bowl of cereal and settled on top of the glossy white granite. It was kind of a running joke at the Wayne household that you could sit anywhere but the chairs. Even Damian picked up on it- and, naturally, he was the best at it- perching his lithe little form atop the fridge at one point.

Now, Tim and I sat side by side on the countertop, shoulders brushing and spoons clanging against our glass bowls. Nothing more was said, but it was a comfortable silence.

I thought, for a second, about the world he’d been living in for the past few months as November bled into December. About his work and his many, many jobs he had to do. The way he shouldered them all week-to-week. He didn’t have to, but he did.

Tim made me a better person. I thought so, anyway.

But then, before I met him, I was the kind of person who let Carolyn Crawford slap me across the face to cover for someone else’s secret. Now, I was the kind who let other people take the blame for mine. Maybe Tim didn’t make me a better person. Only I could do that.

*

“I need to talk to you.” I said it firmly, and with authority. Mostly to convince myself that I was certain in my intention to go through with it. Bruce eyed me, looking up from his book.

“Alright.”

“...”

“...”

“In private.”

Alfred and Damian’s voices carried through to the living room as they had tea (an evening tradition). Bruce nodded, closed his book, and led me upstairs.

His office was a quiet, peaceful place. Finished dark wood, glass tables, and black leather accents. It was the room in the house that was most furnished to his own private taste, and thus, a glimpse inside was into him. It was mostly predictable; W.E. briefcases, notebooks and pens, case files open, and a map of the city that was displayed behind his desk. But there were other things too; a rubik’s cube half solved on the settee, a magazine featuring Vicki Vale with a pen in her hand and a defiant, head-strong look on her face. A gorgeous trailing point knife that belonged to Damian (probably confiscated).

I sat down in the chair that faced his own; his giant, glossy desk between us. I wanted to be swallowed into the dark leather. I felt like I was back at the shrink.

“Tim didn’t sneak off on the 21st.” I said quickly, cutting off the silence as quickly as I could. “He’s not the one who saw Red Hood kill that guy. It was me. I made Tim promise not to tell. He lied to cover for me.”

Bruce was quiet. He did that a lot; made you wait for him to speak. Seconds, minutes, hours. It all felt the same when he let you simmer in your own mistakes. I didn’t look up.

“I see.”

Silence. A long, testing silence. His irritating little desk clock ticked away.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Very well. You’re dismissed.”

“Really?” I asked. “That’s it? You’re not mad?”

He paused. “Should I be?”

I blinked, gaze falling on the floor. “I put Tim in a really shitty position. He didn’t have to lie, but he did because I asked him to. I’m mad at me.” I admitted quietly.

Bruce nodded pedantically, resting his head on his hand. “Then that’s good enough for me.”

I furrowed my brow. It wasn’t good enough for me. “It was wrong.” I clarified, trying to press for some manner of reprimand that I didn’t truly want, but felt deserving of anyway. Bruce considered this, in his quiet, inscrutable way. After a moment, he spoke.

“Your mothers trusted me.” He said. I knew that. My parents were business-oriented like that. They were pulled together by happenstance, each without family and carving their own way in the world by studying international law, and applying it to companies who could afford private foreign trade, such as Wayne Enterprises. I attended the parties, the galas, standing around in my designer gowns while my moms handed out their business cards and talked about imports. They weren’t neglectful, just distracted.

“I don’t know if you remember-“

“I do.”

And if I had a dollar for every time the cops or the shrink asked me if I remembered that night, I’d buy my own manor.

Bruce Wayne was at my birth. He and my mothers had been business partners for a while by that time. He watched me, dutifully, when my parents went on date nights, and played catch with me when I accompanied him and Dick to the park. He cooked me breakfast the morning after my mothers died.

I knew it wasn’t a random killing, but he didn’t talk about why they were murdered in their own bed until I was fifteen. By then, I was knowledgeable enough to go searching through the police reports on my own. So instead, one night he’d sat me down at the kitchen table, looking at me earnestly.

“You have to understand, Y/N. Your mothers were...” He’d taken a deep breath. Tried again. “They were involved in things. Things I didn’t know about. It made them a lot of enemies.” Then, something harder passed his features. A frustration.

“They were completely blind to the fact that it meant you would never have a normal life. Not as long as they kept it up- that... double life.” I let the statement hang in the air for a time. “That was stolen from you, from the moment they got involved with the Baciu. And I’m sorry.”

It was easy to be sorry. I was sorry, too. My mothers got themselves tangled in Gotham’s heroin trade, and they weren’t careful enough, so they died for it. It was fairly cut and dry. Open file, close case. But the part that was so bitter to swallow was that it happened to me. A fourteen-year-old child creeping into my mothers’ bed because I’d heard a noise, and the re-runs of Ghost Hunter I’d religiously consumed were conjuring movement in the shadows. But there were no ghosts. Just sheets stained with blood that looked black in the darkness. Just the wet, clogged sort of sound when I peeled back the covers, unable to register they way my mothers were bent, and stilled in a way that only death can induce, where just earlier that night they’d been walking and talking. Bringing me Chinese take-out for dinner.

Their death, and everything that followed was emptying. Cracking open a great chasm and bringing death home, into the halls, and into my room. No longer a rumor. It was an empty chair, and a storied space made cold and worthless. It would’ve been easier if they had simply died as a random killing. Tragic, standard, random Gotham City killing. If I had just been that unlucky. If they’d only been struck by lightning. Instead, I grieved twice; once for who they were, and another time, for who I thought they were.

When Bruce adopted me, I became Batgirl. I made it my own vendetta to stop criminals without killing them, because I knew that some- most of them had children at home who would be the real victims if I did.

But then, I thought deeper. More considerately, about who my mothers were. Moreover, who they weren’t. Pearl and gold, white teeth and hairspray. Singing to me, and playing Monopoly, at which they were both so competitive that they had to kiss and make up after every game. Bringing me a strawberry cupcake in bed every year on my birthday. Kissing me on the head. Telling me to be good. Leaving me in that big house. Going off to Port Adams, or Crime Alley. Signing orders. Putting bodies in Finger River.

Nobody’s innocent here, dollface.

“They trusted me.” Bruce’s voice interrupted my reminiscing with the ghosts of my past. “I know their death was hard, and you may still be recovering. I’m trying to do the best I can for you.” He finished. For all the gnashing teeth and avaricious expanses of Gotham City secrets, he looked tired.

“I know, Bruce.” I said quietly. “Me too.”

*

The following Tuesday, I got home from school and started on a mountain of homework I needed to do- some make up work as well. Christmas break was around the corner, and I was slowly losing motivation as the semester drew to a close. I had too many distractions; and tonight was no exception.

Ding.

My phone buzzed, and I looked down, eyebrows raising to find that it was a text from Jason- one that wasn’t just a pin dropped to a location.

Meet me at Twin Sharks. I’ll buy you a coffee.

- What’s the occasion?

No reply. I sighed. I should’ve called him and made him tell me, but I knew that I would go no matter what, so I decided to play the apathy card. Despite my cool response, my heart (the traitor) was fluttering like a bird. Was this about the kiss? Our partnership? Was it an actual, regular date? Or was he breaking it off? My mind raced, and as I pulled together a tasteful outfit and sprayed myself with perfume, I promised myself that it wasn’t for him.

The Twin Sharks was a diner in Upper West Side, near China town. It was nicer than the likes of Sherman’s, or anything else East End had to offer. The late afternoon was unexpectedly bright, clouds parted for a sweet reprieve of gold and blush in the sky. The sun was a striking blood-orange, hung low over the city. It struck a match in my chest- some childish, poetic hopefulness.

The diner’s door jingled, and I scanned the booths and tables. It was a little crowded, but I spotted Jason alone in a booth, his eyes cast down, involved with his phone. I made my way over to him, slipping off my coat and plopping down his opposite.

“Hey.” I said. His eyes fell upon me, and I saw something on his face- maybe surprise, or something to that effect- before he composed his expression into something unreadable.

“Hey.”

The diner had a big, hot pink neon sign that depicted a matching pair of sharks above the counter. Its buzzing glow mixed with the orange gleam of the lowering sun through the windows- it was all very rose-colored.

The waitress put a coffee in front of me, and I got to work on adorning it with the little cream and sugar packets on the table. He watched me do it for while.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Nothin’.” He said. Then, he reached across the table, and took my hand, pulling it back to him, and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. I was so startled by it that I dropped the sugar packet I was holding. Neither of us seemed to notice. He turned my hand over and placed another kiss in the inside of my wrist before returning it safely to my side of the table. I was certain my face burned like the neon sharks.

“I’m- um- is this a date?” I asked, trying to get him to say something- anything- to get my mind off the way he’d just reduced me to a puddle.

He looked amused by that. “You want it to be?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, stirring my coffee. “You invited me.”

He nodded, eyes falling away. “Yeah. I’ve got an update for you. D’amici business.”

“Oh.” By the look on his face, it wasn’t good news.

“You’re not gonna like it.”

“Perfect. My day’s been a little too good so far.” I said. He slid me his phone- on the screen was an article from the Gotham Quarterly.

Young Bride Found Murdered in Diamond District Estate

I read over it a couple times, brow furrowing. “You mean...“

“Penelope. It happened last night.”

“Shit.” I muttered, scrolling down and scanning through the article. My throat caught as I read over it. She was shot in her bed. “It says there’s no suspects.”

“Course it does. It’s the mafia. They handle things nice and quiet.”

“And I’m guessing you have a few a suspects.” He nodded grimly as I slid his phone back to him.

“One better. I know exactly who did it. I think you do, too.”

I put my head in my hands, mulling over my options. Really there was only one. Penelope’s beautiful, flustered face and apologetic eyes flashed through my mind. Her wind-chime laugh as we ate scones under the watchful eye of her adoring, peculiar grandmother.

“Okay.” I resolved. “Let’s get that girl justice.”

[drazzilder]

A Hellish Encounter

By Drazzilder 

Chapter 37: One for All

It’s the UA sports festival and the excitement couldn’t be higher. Your now 38 and Enji will be 46 in the summer. Shoto has finally started school at UA, on Enji’s recommendation, and you couldn’t be more proud. Your tutoring job at the school hasn’t stopped your hero work. You go a few mornings a week to work with a student at a time. You always want Enji there as often as he can but sometimes it’s just you and Zaheer. Plus, All Might is now working at the school and he knows who to call is something goes wrong. You meet the girl from the demon fight, Momo. She is one of Shoto’s classmates. She says she doesn’t remember the fight but you don’t blame her, it was traumatic.

Shoto has done very well in the festival so far and is about to go on the vs competition. He is fighting this up and comer student Izuku Midoriya, but he goes by Deku. The competition has been extremely close but you know Shoto is doing his best. Enji is going a little overboard with the support, yelling Shoto’s name is excitement every time he does something impressive. You just can’t help find it adorable that Enji is so proud of his son. Shoto on the other hand just rolls his eyes in embarrassment. You wish you could be with Enji but you’re in the arena to stop students if they take things too far. You and Zaheer are standing next to Midnight when the battle starts.

“Alright boys! I want to see a clean fight. Go!”

Shoto is off with a huge wall of ice heading straight for Deku. That’s when you see something familiar. Deku uses his finger to launch a large wind blast to break the ice. This happens over and over again until there are no more fingers. Shoto then switches to fire but Deku seems to catch on quick and starts dodging left and right. Shoto seems to getting annoyed at this point. He does something he only tried once before but failed. He starts using his ice and fire back and forth quickly. He then creates a huge wall of ice, chasing Deku down as he starts heading towards Shoto with all his might. Shoto then switches to fire but is causing the whole arena to heat up.

“Hellboy, you need to stop this, they are going to get hurt.” Midnight says in a panic.

“Right.” You and Zaheer both say.

You quickly teleport between them as Zaheer stops Shoto and you stop Deku. Shoto is frozen still and Zaheer then stops his control. Zaheer then turns around to see how you are doing. “That was close. Seems like you stopped th….(Y/N) what’s happening!?”

You’re on the ground, convulsing, while Deku is out cold.  Zaheer knows something is wrong and rushes to your side as Enji flies from the stadium seats to you. He places a hand on you and your freezing cold to the touch as ice starts forming on your body. Enji opens one of your eyes to see it’s fully red.

“We have to get him out of here, he isgoing to lose control! Zaheer, teleport us to a place where he can let it out.”

Zaheer quickly places a hand on the both of you and suddenly you’re in the mountains, the ground burned and scarred.  You’re still shivering in Enji’s grip, trying to contain everything, as he places you on the ground.

“(Y/N), let it out. It’s ok, no one will get hurt here.”

You open your eyes and they are still fully red. You manage to get on your hands and knees. Spectral flames engulf your body as you start shaking violently. The markings on your arms begin to glow as the energy begins to flow. You begin vomiting but it’s not from being sick, it’s pure demonic energy that’s flowing from your mouth. As the red liquid hits the ground, it starts burning everything it touches before it quickly evaporates. It takes about a minute for the flow to stop and you pass out. You come to in Enji’s arms.

“What happened, (Y/N)? I thought you managed to balance your power correctly?”

With labored breath: “There is something with that boy. Something I can’t put my finger on. It was like I was being forced out. All of the energy in Deku overwhelmed me, I’m not sure exactly how to explain it. Plus, I sense something familiar in him. Did you feel it too, Zaheer?”

“I did. Do you think we need to talk to him?”

“Who?” Enji says picking you up.

“All Might, we need to talk to him. Zaheer, please take us back to the school. I’m better now. Before we go, I have to tell you something, Enji. I have been here before. Zaheer and I would come here to let out energy, but that the first time I had to let out so much.”

“I figured as much looking at the ground, as long as you’re ok. You are, ok? Right?”

“I am, come on.” You say before the red flash of light. Once back at school, you find All Might, in his small form, at the infirmary with Deku. You enter the room followed by Enji and Zaheer.

D: “I’m so sorry Mr. Hellboy. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

(Y/N): “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine. I’m sorry to bother you All Might, but can I talk with you?”

A: “Sure, did you want to go somewhere private.”

Z: “Actually, this does involve Deku as well.”

D: “What does this have to do with me?”

(Y/N): “It involves my mind control quirk and what happened with you, Deku.”

E: “I haven’t seen (Y/N) like that since the interview. If he lost control in a stadium full of people, who knows what would have happened.”

A: “I see, I’m sorry for what happened. Are you ok?”

Z: “He’s fine now but he had to let out a lot of energy. He was overwhelmed after trying to stop Deku.”

A: “I glad you are ok. What did you want to ask me?”

(Y/N): “I don’t know any other way of asking this so I’m just going to be blunt…. All Might, when did you give your quirk to Deku?”

All Might and Deku both go completely white. Clearly you caught them off guard as they look at you. While you give them a moment to gather their thoughts, you look at Enji. He has also gone white at this point. You take Enji’s hand and lead him to a chair to sit.

(Y/N): “I’m sorry if I was too abrupt but I need to understand what’s happened. I will never forget that energy that flowed though me at the stadium. When I tried to stop Deku, I felt it again. The problem is I was forcefully pushed out, like something was activity trying to keep me away from Deku.”

A: With a sigh “I was afraid this might happen. When I found out you were working with students, I asked Nezu to keep Midoriya away from you. Not because of you and Zaheer but to keep my secret away from you. I probably should have just told you but I didn’t know this is how you would react if you used your quirk on him.”

“All Might, what’s going on?” Enji says still shock.”

With another sigh, All Might starts describing One for All, it’s origins and everything that goes with it. He describes why he chose Deku and that he is the 9th user and that it is because of this quirk that All Might is the number one hero. During all of this information, you look at Enji who starts looking a little red in the face.

(Y/N): “Enji, are you ok?”

E: “I was never going to surpass you, was I, All Might?”

A: “I’m sorry I never told you this. The less people who know the better it is. One for All builds with each user so yes, my power was far beyond anything a normal quirk could achieve.”

E: “So everything I did was for nothing.” He says looking at the ground.

Z: “Enji?”

E: “Nothing I did mattered?”

A: “Endeavor?”

Enji then jumps out of his chair and grabs All Might by the neck. He flames are growing by the second as he loses control of his emotions. “Do you have ANY idea of what I put my family through because of you! I tortured them! My son and wife died! I lost my children! It’s because I wanted to be better than you, you BASTARD! ITS BECAUSE I….I…..”

At that moment, Zaheer places a hand on Enji’s back and start taking control of his body to stop him. He slowly makes him let go of All Might and carries Enji back to the chair. Once he relinquishes control, Enji just blankly stares back at you.

(Y/N): “Are you ok?”

E: “I know you want to hear me say yes but I can’t honestly say that.”

(Y/N): “It’s ok. I have an idea what you’re going through right now. Do we need to go home?”

E: “No, I’ll manage. I want to be here for Shoto.”

A: “I never knew I did that to you.”

E: “What?” He says looking up at All Might.

A: “I never knew that me being number one was so hard on you.”

E: “I was so obsessed with trying to surpass you that I hurt my whole family to try to achieve my goal. Everything I did was for nothing, I was never going to be better than you, Shoto is never going to be better than you. They went through so much because of me, none of it they deserved. I wish I could go back and stop myself from doing everything, if I could tell myself the truth maybe things would be different. Maybe they wouldn’t have been hurt by me.” He says looking down at his hands.

You go to hug Enji. He stands up and you let him rest his head on your shoulder as a few tears appear in his eyes and sizzle from his flames. “It’s ok, you’re better than that now. You would never do that again. I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

E: “It just still hurts to remember what I did.”

A: “I’m sorry. If I could go back and change that I would. I don’t know what I can say to make this better, I can barely get Midoriya to stop crying sometimes. The only thing I do know is right now we need to worry about the future. All for One is still out there.” He says holding his hand out.

Enji sighs and releases you from his grip. “At least let me thank you for one thing.”

A: “What would that be?”

E: “(Y/N). All Might, it’s because you saved him at the stadium that we are here today. Without him I wouldn’t be here with my kids. I’m just going to have to accept the past as it is.” He says as he gives All Might a hearty handshake.

A: “I am truly sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

E: “Just make sure that boy, Midoriya, becomes to best hero he can be.”

All Might goes to his muscle form: “Don’t you worry. As long as I AM HERE, he is in good hands.”

Enji responds with a faint smile. “Good. Now, (Y/N) don’t you still have the rest of the festival to help with.”

A: “They took over after you lost control, it should be over by now. Come on, let’s go see.”

You enter the stadium to find that Shoto came in 2nd place to Katsuki Bakugo. It’s doesn’t matter to you, you are just happy he did his best. Everyone meets after the award ceremony.  

E: “I’m so proud of you son.” He says with a boasting smile.

(Y/N): “Yes, all of us are proud of you. You did great out there.”

S: “Thanks. (Y/N), are you ok?”

Z: “We are fine now, don’t worry about us.”

E: “I haven’t seen you use both of your quirks before, since when could you do that?”

S: “I didn’t know I could use both like that. In the heat of the battle, I kept thinking about you, dad. I thought about how your better now and trying to be the best you can be. You’re not perfect but you’re really trying now and I guess that gave me the boost I needed.”

Enji can’t help himself and hugs his son with all his might, screaming “SHOOOOOOTOOOOOOOO!” at the top of his lungs.

(Y/N): “Put him down, Enji. You’re embarrassing him.”

Releasing his son, “Sorry, I am just so happy to hear that.”

S: “It’s ok. Now that the festival is done, can we go home? I want to tell Natsuo and Fuyumi about today.”

E: “Of course, (Y/N)?”

“On it.” Is all you say as you teleport everyone back home. Once home, the house was filled with a lot of excitement and energy. Fuyumi was so proud of her little brother doing so well in the competition while Natsuo begrudgingly listened to Enji describing everything they already saw on TV. Zaheer was helping you cook dinner while everyone was talking at the dining room table. After dinner, everyone was tired from the excitement of the day and went to bed early. All three of you lie down in bed, naked under the covers. You rested your head on his bicep while he used his hand to rest his head. His other arm was wrapped around you, holding you tight. Zaheer is behind you, laying a arm around the both of you. Your hand is on Enji’s chest when you feel his heart rate and it’s fast.

“Don’t pretend you are ok, Enji. You’re safe with us.”

With a sigh “You can always read me like a book, can’t you?”

“That and I can read your mind if I wanted to. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I’ll find out even if you don’t tell me.” You say as your eyes glow brighter.

He sighs again “I’m still thinking about All Might.”

“Oh…” is all you say as you place a cool hand to his face.

“I spent almost all of my life trying to succeed him, trying to surpass him. I put my family and myself through so much because of my obsession. It was all for nothing, nothing I could do would make me better than him.”

“But you’re so much better now.”

“I know, but it still doesn’t change what I did in the past. I hurt all of my kids and Rei.”

“That’s not you now, I know you would do anything to not to hurt them now.”

“This just brought it all back to the front again. I wish I could go back to before knowing all this.” He says with a tear forming in his eye.

“There is one thing that makes you better than All Might, if you want to hear it.”

Raising an eyebrow “And what might that be?”

“Your ability to change. When I first met you, you were an apathetic hard ass with no one who cared for you.”

Now squinting, “How is this making feel better?”

“Let me finish, you are so impatient sometimes. I know coming from me it might not mean as much, but you have changed so much since then. You laugh, you cry, you love; those are all things that you never would have done before. Your family now loves you, that is something All Might doesn’t have: a family.”

“True…”

“Plus, I love you. Even though I fell in love with you early on, the changes you have made after all these years is why I never want to leave.”

He kisses you on the lips and whispers “You always know what to say.” After kissing a few more times, Enji pulls back. “I am worried about you, I haven’t seen you lose control like that in a while, are you sure you’re, ok?”

“As long as I have the both of you, I’ll be fine.”

“That isn’t the first time we had to eject energy like that.”

“I know but that was more than I seen before.”

“That One for All quirk just put a beating on me. Let’s not worry about it, I promise it won’t be a problem as long as I don’t try to control Deku again.”

“I’m just going to have to accept that marrying a demon has its problems.”

“And benefits” Zaheer says as you start kissing again. Zaheer is starting to lean over the both of you to get a better position. After a little bit more of this you start to feel something between your legs. “Enji, did you need something else?” You whisper.

Enji responds with a husky voice and a toothy grin “I think you already know what I want.”

Next Chapter

[dothemacarena]

TUA idea

What if after Vanya wrote her book some of the others write their own books in retaliation and or defense.

I imagine Allison would go first. Her manager talking her into it about how Vanya's book was bad for her career and she needs to do damage control. She is still hesitant to put in a lot of the darker secrets of the academy but some readers may start to theorize that there was more going on than is told. Allison's book is nicer to the others than Vanya's book especially Luther, but she also tries to frame herself in the best way possible for the sake of good publicity. To the others it came across as blatantly false.

I'm not sure if Diego or Luther go next Diego would be more angry, but Luther has plenty of free time on the moon(is he on the moon when Vanya's book comes out idk) Actually I just talked myself into Luther going next. Luther still believes in dear old dad and his book proves it. He is spouting the usual rhetoric and he pulls no punches on bashing Diego and Klaus. His book probably even includes a controversial line about how Five wouldn't have gone missing if he just did as dad told. Its not pretty. He probably accidentally lets more of the messed up facts come to light because he thinks dad was justified in say making them train until they vomit so it doesn't seem so bad to mention it in the book.

Diego is pissed his book is mainly focused on tearing down Luther and demonizing their father, but he also takes pot shots at everyone else. He talks about Luther stopping the occasional bit of fun they were having because 'dad says...' and Luther being a horrible leader. He talks about Allison being selfish. And he is the nicest to Klaus so far but he still talks about how the drugs were just for attention. He writes a particularly spiteful chapter about Vanya getting the easiest life and hating them for it still angry about her book as well. With how much Diego spilled the beans when talking about his hatred for dad the whole world now has a decent idea how fucked up their favorite childhood superheroes were and are.

After the first four books everyone assumes they will hear from the Séance. It is just a matter of time. But Klaus doesn't want to write a book. He thought about it briefly as a way to make money for drugs, but if he writes a book it would mean explaining the ghost and the constant screaming. He hasn't let his family spend years thinking he does drugs for attention and because he's weak to explain how awful his powers are now, explain how traumatized he is. So Klaus doesn't write a book. Though if he did it would probably be the nicest one to all of the siblings aside from Luther whose nicest description was Allison's book.

So Klaus doesn't write a book. After much pestering however, and very slowly over many months during the more lucid gaps between highs he does carefully write down what Ben dictates to him. He doesn't really remember most of what he writes down, but he will read it later when it is published and he is doing a stint in rehab. When it is finally finished he hesitates before bringing it to a publisher. His siblings still don't believe that he sees Ben, they are going to think he has made up a whole fake autobiography just as another grab for attention. And why would a publisher want his book anyway he's a junkie off the streets. (Of course he is wrong about that every publisher wants to get the rights to final book in the set.)

They are of course surprised that the book Klaus brings in is not his biography but his dead brothers, but they know his powers are seeing the dead and it is a garunteed best seller. And even if other books mentioned Klaus can't see ghosts when he's high surely he can't be high all the time. And it's not their job to make sure a book is true just that it is well written.

Ben's is protective of Klaus and writes a long defense for him. He doesn't go into too much detail about Klaus's powers since that's why Klaus didn't write his own book, but he points out that hey all of those bank robbers we killed sure hate us and could talk to Klaus. He is angry on Klaus's behalf but doesn't let it drive him to being purposefully mean to the others. Other than his defense of Klaus Ben's book is the most unbiased of the bunch. It puts the right amount of blame on the right people like yeah Luther dad was at fault for your competitiveness but you shouldn't have made fun of Diego's stutter. Contrary to Klaus's fear there are enough personal details that Klaus shouldn't know in his book that when the others read it they can not deny that he at least talks to Ben and it doesn't really seem like Klaus's writing style. And it is hard for them to get angry at this book. Not when it rings so true and is there first time hearing from Ben in years.

Ben's book finally breaks the wall in multiple ways. Many fans of the books have started questioning how this awful man bought seven children. They are all adults now a little late for cps but surely there is some crime Reginald Hargreeves can be charged with. Also all of the siblings have been reading each others books and slowly (after they stop being pissed) coming around and understanding their siblings point of view Allison makes the first step of reaching out to the others and trying to convince them to talk or get lunch. Maybe even therapy. It takes a long time to to find Klaus and Luther is still on the moon so it is hard to get him as involved, but when Five comes back he has a much easier time getting them to work together.

This got away from me I was originally just going to write the general premise of them writing revenge books and what order they would go in. Please feel free to write fic of this or comment what you think would happen who would write what and when.

[panharmonium]

Merlin and Naruto

I did Merlin here, so here’s Naruto! :D

[disclaimer for everyone: I have only watched up through Season 10 of Shippuden (the arc with the Five Kage Summit), and I am trying to avoid spoilers for everything after that point, so please don’t interact with this (including tags, because tumblr shows them to me automatically) unless you are avoiding ALL spoilers.  For me, this includes discussion about whether you like/dislike future seasons, comparisons of various seasons in terms of quality, etc.  Thanks, everyone! <3]

My favorite parent-child relationship: I know they’re not blood-related, but Iruka and Naruto have me crying every time I see them together.  Naruto straight-up says that when he’s with Iruka he feels like he knows what it’s like to have a father, and honestly, Iruka loves Naruto so much at this point that he would insta-adopt him if Naruto asked.  I love how Naruto always cites Iruka as the first person who cared for him even later in the show when Iruka hasn’t had as much screentime, and when I saw Iruka cry because he’s so proud of Naruto at the end of the Pain arc, it was just...too much for my little heart to handle.

My favorite sibling relationship: You know, thinking about it, almost all of the people in Naruto are only children, as far as we know!  But in terms of just that sibling vibe - Sakura and Naruto definitely give me that feel.  I know he has a crush on her, but their relationship has always felt more sibling-like to me, and I especially love how deep their bond has become by the time we get to Shippuden.  They are just so comfortable with each other now - the depth of the love and friendship they feel for each other is palpable.  

My favorite family relationship (other): I adore Naruto’s relationship with Jiraiya.  That scene where Naruto falls asleep against his back almost killed me, and Jiraiya’s later line, “Your smile is my salvation” - that was too much.  It absolutely destroyed me.  The way Jiraiya kind of gave up on everything after his old life went to hell - neverending wars, Orochimaru gone, his original students dead, his student’s students dead, Minato dead - he just ran away after that, and it was meeting Naruto that kind of rekindled that spark of hope in him and helped him reconnect with his community and rediscover a sense of purpose in his life.  Naruto enabled him to finally come home, and I think that’s beautiful.

My favorite friendship between two people: There are so many friendships in Naruto that I love (one of the greatest things about this show for me has been how little focus is given to romantic relationships, at least so far; it’s very much a friendship-oriented show), but right now I’m in a bit of a Kakashi-Yamato hole.  I was super primed to not like Yamato when he first showed up, because him being there meant that my favorite character WASN’T there, and also he ended up replacing Kakashi on the one mission where the team finally found Sasuke, but the guy won me over in the end.  He is one of my favorite characters now - my heart just swells every time I see him - and I think his relationship with Kakashi is super interesting.  I’ve written before about how Kakashi’s only truly intimate friendships are with people who are dead, and I do think that applies when it comes to Yamato, too, even though the two of them are obviously very companionable and close.  There is still a level to that relationship where Kakashi is a bit of a mentor figure, the “superior officer,” which results in a degree of (still friendly and affectionate) distance.  And as with all of his other relationships, Kakashi doesn’t really confide in Yamato about his life or open up to him in the same way that he does when he talks to his dead friends - but at the same time, there is an element to their relationship that doesn’t exist in Kakashi’s other friendships, and it’s the fact that Kakashi trusts Yamato with his kids, implicitly and without reservation.  Kakashi’s entire life right now is very much enmeshed in what happens to his students, and even if he doesn’t necessarily talk about that with Yamato, Yamato is still deeply involved in that work.  Yamato VOLUNTEERED for that work.  And he continues to dedicate himself to it even when his first mission as Kakashi’s stand-in ends up going completely off the rails and turning into WAY more than he signed up for.  He keeps doing his utmost for Kakashi’s kids without it even being his original responsibility, and that is such an unusual thing, for Kakashi, who in every other circumstance is always the one stepping in to help other people, the one who always shoulders his burdens alone.  Nobody ever asks Kakashi if he needs help with these incredibly high-needs children, and neither does Yamato - but the difference is that Yamato jumps in to help regardless, and he stays no matter how complicated things get.  That’s huge, and it’s only going to become more important.  It’s just - it is difficult for Kakashi to have intimate friendships with people who don’t share his history, and this rules out almost everybody else in the world, because all the people who truly share his own history are dead.  But the degree to which Yamato has altruistically and irreversibly entwined himself into the most important parts of Kakashi’s new history - the chapters being written right now, the ones that are going to define the rest of Kakashi’s life - means that Yamato is well on his way to breaking through that wall and becoming the first exception to a universal rule. [There is a lot to be said on Kakashi’s side of this, too, like - every time Kakashi refuses to call Yamato by his code name I lose my mind just a little bit, and I have MANY thoughts about Kakashi basically dragging folks who’ve been victimized or exploited or experimented on out of ANBU and then absorbing them into his own team, where they become a part of a family-type unit that respects them and cares about them and treats them like human beings.  I mean, there’s a huge difference between the Yamato we meet in S2 vs. the Yamato we know in S10 (and the same thing goes for Sai!) - and that’s something I think about a lot.]

My favorite friendship between a group:  I love all of the team dynamics, but Team Gai is a fave XD  The absurd contrast between oh-so-serious Neji vs. Gai/Lee’s incredible goofiness (with Tenten’s exasperation in between) is comedy gold.  I screamed with laughter in S1 when Gai was trying to get Neji to put his hand in the circle and do their “shout a slogan like a sports team” thing - I’ve never seen anything funnier on this show than jonin!Neji trying to put up with Gai’s antics.  

My favorite mentorship: My favorite mentorship is always Kakashi and whichever kid happens be onscreen with him at that moment, but I’ll be honest and say that Kakashi+Sasuke was the first dynamic that got me actually invested in this show (as opposed to me just watching it because it was on and not really caring what happened to any of the characters).  They are still the mentorship dynamic about which I have the most complex feelings, and that is especially true after the last season we watched.  I will probably end up making a separate post about this, because I still have not written down all of my thoughts about the end of Season 10 and I am still trapped in my feelings about this very lost child and the only adult who ever tried to help him the way he deserved to be helped, and I know I have way more to say about them than I can reasonably fit in this bullet point.  But - the short version is that I am super compelled by the way that every tragedy that’s befallen Kakashi is precisely what shapes him into the only adult who can help this particular kid, the way seemingly senseless events ended up putting Kakashi in a position where he’s the only adult who can intervene on this kid’s behalf many, many years later.  The way Sasuke’s plight (and the potential that Kakashi has to help him) suddenly grants meaning to the worst parts of Kakashi’s life - that knocks me on my butt.  

My favorite rivalry: So I probably would not have said this until the episode where Kakashi comes three seconds away from being made Hokage, but I’m gonna say Gai & Kakashi, solely to express my love and appreciation for Gai in that episode.  This is the ep where Gai challenges Kakashi to a race through the entire village (as a sort of “last hurrah before we can’t do this kind of silly shit anymore” thing) and Kakashi is initially kind of reluctant to do it, because he’s stressed out about a lot of things, but he does end up agreeing to it, and then he has SO much fun, and I LOVED this so much; I can’t even tell you.  This moment takes place immediately after Kakashi returns from that horrible, awful confrontation with Sasuke, and everything preceding this scene was very hard for me to see, because everybody is just asking Kakashi to do more and more and more for them without giving him even a hot minute to be like “i almost just killed my own kid.  i almost just had to kill my own kid, who was trying to kill my other kid, who was trying to kill kid #1 first, so i wouldn’t have assume the burden of killing him myself.”  Nobody checks on him, nobody asks, and Kakashi has to just hold onto that horror and also fret over the uncertain yet chilling secrets that Madara Uchiha disclosed and also prepare to shoulder the crushing weight of an office he never asked for - AND THEN.  GAI SHOWS UP.  And even though Gai doesn’t really know what happened, he still checks Kakashi over from top to bottom to make sure he’s in one piece, and then he drags him into this stupid competition, and it makes Kakashi LAUGH.  They go running all out across the craterized scene of devastation that used to be their home, and they have FUN doing it, and Kakashi straight-up tells Gai, “This was just what I needed,” which - god.  It would be great if Kakashi had somebody he could actually talk to, sure, but there’s also a space in our lives for people who just cheer us up, no questions asked.  It’s like when you tell someone you have a problem and they ask, “Do you want to talk about it or do you want to be distracted?”  Sometimes you don’t need to talk about it.  Sometimes you just need people who will take you for a goofy footrace and make you feel like you’re running too fast for any of your troubles to ever touch you again, for a few minutes. 

My favorite hatred/antipathy: The answer to this question used to be Kakashi and Itachi, and while I’m even MORE fascinated by their dynamic now than ever, it’s taken on a whole new dimension, given that I think Itachi is (secretly) thrilled to see someone like Kakashi so committed to taking him down and keeping Sasuke safe.  So, in place of that, I’ll just say that I love how much all of the Akatsuki cannot stand each other XD  Almost none of them get along, and it makes me laugh every time - I can’t believe they ever get anything done, though I guess that’s to be expected when you get that many super-criminals together in a room.  I especially love how they all think Orochimaru is so stupid...cannot get over them laughing at him and his body-snatching immortality schemes.

My favorite potential relationship between characters who never talk in canon: Okay, these are both silly answers, but - I would have KILLED to see Jiraiya interacting with Minato’s team.  Like, I’m certain they spent time together, but honestly, what I wouldn’t give to have witnessed some of it.  All I could think about during that mini-arc where Jiraiya teaches Naruto how to sync up with Gamariki was how little!Kakashi would have taken one look at the dancing frogs and decided he would be using dog!summons for the rest of his life; meanwhile Obito would have already been in the frog’s mouth begging to be launched into the air like a cannonball.  Also - my sister said the other night how it is a CRIME that we never got to see Sasuke forced to interact with Jiraiya and honestly, that is too true.