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theolddarkmachine · 4 years ago

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Imaginary- Chapter Thirteen

Midoriya Izuku’s life was turned upside by fate.

Eri’s life was turned upside down by circumstance.

And Bakugou Katsuki is about to learn that even imaginary friends need to grow up.

Also on AO3

A/N: Sooooo. Apologies for going MIA lol I moved last month and even though I told myself I would totally have time to still right, I totally didn’t have time to still write. And then this chapter went from a planned like 2k-ish words to over 6k. Which, I’m hoping makes up for the absence lol

***HERE’S YOUR WARNING, THIS CHAPTER EARNS THE E RATING.***

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The dull, quick tap of Izuku’s fingers on the table top punctuate the otherwise quiet kitchen as he keeps his eyes fixed on his hand. It’s that awkward downtime that has left him without the ability to do much of anything, but was still far too early to start working on making dinner. In fact, the only thing he probably could do to pass the time would be to clean the kitchen. Again.

For the third time that day.

Sighing loudly, Izuku drops his head down on the table beside his hand. Inviting Bakugou to dinner had been such a good idea at the time, but almost as soon as he’d climbed into his car, he had realized the error he had made. Because ever since, a particularly lively family of butterflies has infested his insides, leaving him a quantified mess of fidgeting hands.

With each passing moment since they’d run into each other at the daycare, he had considered canceling. Considered picking up the phone and telling Bakugou he’d come down with some form of horrifying malaise and that as an officer of the law whose duty it was was to protect the common people, it was his job to not pass the sickness along.

But then he’d remember the way Bakugou’s gaze had pinned him against his car door, the force of it cutting down to the deepest secrets that he kept buried against his bones.

Then, finally, it was Saturday and far too late to make up some excuse.

So now, he was suffering the consequences of his actions, as he tried to swallow down the stray butterfly that was tickling the back of his throat.

Groaning again, Izuku lifts his head just enough so he can drop it back down with a dull thump.

“Daddy Izuku?” Eri’s voice is a shade of concerned that forces his head to snap up to attention. He doesn’t miss the way her eyes zero in on the inevitable red spot at the center of his forehead, or the way her smile grows as she giggles at his expense. Reaching up, he rubs his fingers over his skin where there’s a dull, pulsing throb.

“Did you pick out what movies you’re taking to Grandma’s?” Izuku asks, dropping his hand back to the table as he eyes the way Eri holds her own behind her back, obviously hiding something from his view.

She nods enthusiastically in answer.

“Are you going to show me which ones they are?” He prods, mind flashing back to the one time she’d grabbed a seemingly harmless hero movie that had ended up being an R rated nightmare his mother had yet to let him live down.

“I already packed them!” Eri exclaims, hands still firmly hidden behind her back.

“So then what do you have there?” Izuku asks, tilting his chin toward her. A light pink dusts her cheeks as she looks down to her feet. He watches as she twists her foot shyly.

“Daddy Izuku,” she starts, gaze still turned to her toes, “do you think you could give Kacchan something for me?”

The violent tempest in his gut picks up its speed at the mention of Bakugou’s name as Izuku sits up straighter.

“Of course, Eri. But why don’t you go ahead and give it to him yourself?” He says, ignoring the way curiosity weaves between his own words. The question makes her lift her gaze. Happiness burns bright in her eyes as she gives him a toothy grin.

“Because I think he’d really like it coming from you!” Eri cheers, finally pulling her hands in front of her. Her left fist clenches around a small collection of flowers that Izuku recognizes as the ones growing through the cracks of their fence from their neighbor’s yard, and her right holds a folded piece of paper.

Stomach going turbulent once more, Izuku reaches forward to gently take them both, making a mental note to find a cup of water for the flowers before turning his attention to the paper.

Bright colors decorate the front of the paper, depicting three people, each wearing equally colorful pointed birthday hats. Between the trio is a floating pink cake, and on the ground are several small squares with little bows.

Tucking his thumb into the fold, Izuku opens the paper to see Eri’s childish script.

Can you come to my birthday?

Sucking in a sharp breath, he lets the paper fold back shut as he eyes the drawing once more.

He had already been planning on inviting Bakugou to Eri’s birthday the upcoming Sunday, but something about the drawing sent a sharp spike of excitement ricocheting through his chest. Like this, in the Crayola colored world, they almost looked like they could be a family.

“Yeah,” he breathes, looking up to meet Eri’s expectant stare. “Of course, I’ll give this to him. He’ll love it.”

Gently setting down both the invitation and bouquet, Izuku reaches forward to scoop her up into a hug. Giving her a small squeeze, he smiles into her shoulder as he feels her give him one back.

“Thank you, Daddy Izuku!” She cheers, fingers fisting at the back of his shirt.

The sudden sound of the doorbell makes them both jump. Pulling apart, Izuku taps Eri on the nose as he smiles.

“That must be your grandma, why don’t you go grab your bag?” He says as he stands. Nodding dutifully, Eri skips toward the stairs, her steps thumping loudly as she heads up to her room.

With a small chuckle and shake of his head, Izuku makes his way to the front door. Pulling it open, he finds himself under the full force of his mother’s bright grin.

“Hey, honey,” she says loudly, gaze shifting over his shoulder to quickly scan the hall behind him.

“Hey mom,” Izuku sighs, stepping aside to let her into the entryway before adding, “he isn’t here yet.”

“Hm? Who?” His mom hums, stepping over the threshold as she lets an exaggerated confusion color her tone. Turning over her shoulder, she fixes her all knowing mom smile on him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You really didn’t think I’d have invited him to come at the same time you did, did you?” Izuku teases, shutting the door behind them. As they both settle in the entryway, he watches as his mom crosses her arms over her chest before pinning her big, green gaze on him.

“Izuku, I’m hurt,” she replies, smiling through her pout as he rolls his eyes.

“Do you blame me? Who wants to meet someone’s mom on their first date,” he says. There’s a brief pause before the realization of what he’s said rolls through him. The sharp clack of his teeth snapping shut as his mom’s smile grows.

“I thought it was a thank you dinner?” She presses, eyes sparkling with interest.

“Yes, it is,” Izuku quickly rectifies. “A thank you dinner between friends. Nothing else.”

“If you say so, sweetie,” his mom hums as she reaches out to rub his shoulder. “Just keep an open mind, okay. This boy seems to be pretty good for the both of you.”

“Mom,” Izuku groans, pulling back and dropping his head into his hands to hide the sudden burn across his cheeks.

“I’m just saying, Izuku!” His mom exclaims, leaning in close until he pulls his hand away to meet her stare. Tapping her finger against the center of her his forehead, she laughs lightly.

“Listen to your mother. You and Eri have been so happy the last few weeks, and I think we all know why.”

Brushing her hand away, Izuku sighs again.

“Yeah, yeah, mom. I get it. It’s still not a date.”

“Alright, dear,” she says, sounding completely unconvinced as she turns toward the sound of Eri’s steps on the stairs. They both fall into silence as they watch her hop off the last one, landing loudly as she looks to them both with her ever bright smile.

“Are you ready to have the best sleepover ever?” His mom asks, reaching her hand out to Eri.

“Yeah!” She cries loudly, taking her grandma’s hand. Bouncing in place excitedly, Eri barely spares him a glance as she says, “bye Daddy Izuku!”

“Be good for your Grandma Inko,” Izuku chuckles, ruffling her hair before reaching over her head to open the door. Leaning back against the doorway, he watches as Eri pulls on his mom’s hand.

“She always is,” his mother answers, letting Eri pull her out the door. The pair gets down the front steps before his mom pauses, looking over her shoulder with an almost sinister smile.

“And you be good on your not date,” she says, voice filled with innuendo before she winks.

“Get out of here,” Izuku shoos heat burning his cheeks as his mom turns away to continue down the path toward their front gate.

“Grandma Inko, what’s a not date?” He hears Eri ask. A loud moan escapes his lips as he hears his mother cackle before he shuts the door. Pressing his back to it, he rolls his eyes before looking down at his watch.

Maybe he can get in one more cleaning after all.

***

The rice is in the cooker, the meat and vegetables are marinating in the fridge, and Izuku is already halfway through a glass of wine when the doorbell finally rings again.

Swallowing down the high pitched eek of surprise that threatens to rips itself out of his mouth, Izuku wipes his hands on a kitchen towel before heading to the front door. The wood of it is almost daunting as it stands between him and the man on the other side, and he wonders what the hell he’s doing.

Lost to his thoughts for just a few seconds too long, the doorbell rings again, making him jump slightly before he finally opens the door.

“Thought maybe you were about to stand me up,” Bakugou greets, no real heat to his words as he sweeps his appraising look up and down Izuku’s frame. His own stare takes in all of the blonde, noting the way his button up clings to his just chest and the way his jeans accent his thighs. Even his hair, still set as a calculated disaster, seems to accentuate his face in an entirely different way than normal.

The look strikes a devastating blow to the space to Izuku’s solar plexus as he struggles to catch the breath that was just punched out of him.

“Hi,” he manages in response, mentally making a note to kick himself later for his sudden inability to speak.

Bakugou’s answering laugh is rough, and it raises goosebumps along Izuku’s skin as he hits him with the full brunt of his half cocked smile.

“Hey,” he greets before flicking his gaze over Izuku’s shoulder. “You gonna let me in?”

Swallowing thickly, Izuku just nodes and steps to the side, giving Bakugou enough space to step over the threshold. Taking the opportunity to enter, he casually walks in, keeping close as he flicks his gaze over Izuku once more before he busies himself with taking off his shoes.

Izuku swears he hears the soft huff of a suppressed chuckle as he shuts the door, and it sets fire racing over his cheekbones and turning his skin a violent shade. Without waiting, he walks in ahead of Bakugou, making a beeline for the fridge to grab the meat and vegetables from the fridge. The solid surface of the cool Tupperware in his hands grounds him, giving him something else to focus on other than the fact that his brain is short circuiting.

Be good on your not date, his mom’s voice taunts at the back of his mind.

Not a date, he mentally chides as he lets the fridge door shut loudly.

“Anything I can help with?” Bakugou asks, voice just at his back, making him jump slightly as he tightens his grasp on the Tupperware like it’s a lifeline. Not turning to face him, Izuku shuffles over to the stove and puts a pan on the stovetop.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the ‘p’ as he quickly flicks the burner on.

“You can just pour yourself some wine and sit there and—”

“Look pretty?” Bakugou bites, shit eating grin all too loud in his tone as he cuts Izuku off. Something seizes in his chest, forcing the air out of his lungs for length of three breaths before he grabs for the wooden spatula beside the stove. Turning quickly over his shoulder, Izuku forces himself to breathe.

“Let me do all the work,” he grits, doing his best to sound stern as he points the utensil straight at his tormentor. In response, Bakugou’s smile only grows sharper, more dangerous, as he reaches for the already open wine bottle and empty glass from the kitchen island. Settling down into one of the island stools, he makes careful work of filling the wineglass.

“‘Fraid I’m not that kind of girl, Deku,” he replies, arching a brow as he stares at Izuku and takes a drag of wine. A small hiccuping noise pries itself between Izuku’s teeth as he turns back to the stove. Ignoring the small huff of amusement from behind him, he pulls the lid off the container, upending the contents into the pan. They land with a satisfying sizzle as he places the now empty container on the counter, replacing it in his hand with his wine and swallowing down a big gulp.

It does nothing to sate the nervous yet excited thrum doing laps through his veins.

“So you cook dinner for all of Eri’s friends?” Bakugou asks, focused gaze burning a hole between Izuku’s shoulder blades as he pushes around the meat and veggies so that they cover the pan in an even layer.

“Only the ones I really like,” he mutters without thought as he almost flicks a pepper out of the pan. It isn’t until he’s chased it back into the confines of the metal cookware that he realizes what he’s said.

“I’m flattered then,” Bakugou says, voice molten. Turning a quick glance over his shoulder, Izuku traces the long line of his throat as he takes another sip of wine. He tries not to think too much about the light shade of pink that’s high on Bakugou’s cheeks when he resurfaces from the glass.

“You might not be after dinner,” Izuku says, chasing his own words with a self deprecating laugh as he turns back to the food to give it another stir. “I really only know how to do stir fry.”

A low and warm sound fills the space between them.

“Well than next time, I’ll be the chef,” Bakugou replies.

A shock of lightning strikes at the pit of Izuku’s stomach at the thought of next time.

Turning down the heat, he sets the spatula to the side, turning fully to face the man behind him. Settling his hands on the counter behind him, he leans back against the cool surface.

“Are you asking me on a date, Kacchan?” He teases, hoping that the question doesn’t ring with the burning hope that’s crawling its way up his throat.

“Consider it a thank you dinner,” Bakugou counters, punctuating his sentence with a quick wink.

Lips parting around his small gasp of shock, Izuku turns back toward the food, focusing on stirring the pan’s contents in a sad attempt to lull his rushing heartbeat. Losing himself to the task, its several minutes before he finally flicks the heat off, just in time for the rice cooker to click over to its keep warm function.

“Dinner is served,” he says, aiming the words behind him just in time to see Bakugou peering over his shoulder. His sudden presence sends a shock skittering down his spine, tracing between its knobs until the bright sparks found a home in his gut.

“Smells good,” Bakugou says. The compliment brushes across Izuku’s nape, followed closely by a burning flush.

“Thanks,” he says, moving to the side and offering Bakugou a plate and a rice paddle before adding quickly, “again.”

Rolling his eyes, Bakugou takes them.

“Shut it, Deku, let’s eat,” he snipes, turning to the rice cooker and opening the top. Scooping rice onto his plate, he hands the paddle to Izuku before moving onto the stir fry. Mechanically going through the motions, he follows suit, adding food to his plate almost blindly before moving to the dinner table to take a seat beside the one Bakugou had chosen.

Silence fills the bubble around the table, engulfing them in a comfortable warmth as they both eat. Izuku knows he should probably say something, but there’s a sort of calm that he’s wholly unfamiliar with. It’s a sort of calm that doesn’t beg for words or moments to be something in its own right.

Hidden within its depths, it’s a calm that gives him a glimpse into a future that he could have, one that, up until that very moment, he hadn’t even realized was something that he had maybe wanted.

Izuku had had Eri, and Eri had had Izuku, and until then, he hadn’t realized that maybe they could also have something else.

Someone else.

“What’s that?” Bakugou’s voice cuts through the din of his thoughts, leaving Izuku reeling and grasping from some kind of mental foothold as he searched for the that in which he was talking about.

Following the line of his stare, Izuku sees his attention has settled on the small mug filled with Eri’s handpicked flowers and the invitation beside it. He lets himself linger on the bright art of the trio, searching for a bit of courage amongst the crayon smiles.

“It’s for you, actually,” Izuku says after clearing his throat. Reach out, he carefully grabs the paper and hands it toward Bakugou, breath catching as their fingers brush.

“Eri wanted me to invite you to her birthday,” he continues, squeezing the words around the stalled air in his throat. Bakugou keeps his stare down to the paper, opening it and reading the scrawled words inside. Falling back into the comfortable quiet, Izuku watches as Bakugou’s gaze softens into unabashed, open wonder. A soft shade of pink stains his cheeks, the color making Izuku’s stomach flip as he tries fruitlessly to tear his own stare away.

It was one of the rare moments that Bakugou let his usually hard walls down, revealing one of Izuku’s favorite sights. He watches as Bakugou’s lips gently pull up. It’s such a small movement that Izuku thinks he might not even realize that he’s smiling.

“When’s her birthday?” Bakugou asks, attention never leaving the colorful portrait of the three of them.

“Next Sunday,” Izuku answers quickly. “But if you’re busy you don’t have to. I’m sure she’ll under—”

Bakugou’s quick gaze cuts off his rambling like a sword strike as he finally looks up to him.

“I’ll be there,” he says definitively, holding Izuku’s stare. Captivated by the surety that has turned Bakugou’s stare into something closer to gemstone as opposed to it’s usual magma, Izuku openly watches him.

Tension, thick and heady, rolls out between them. It prickles at his nerves, making him antsy beneath the heavy gaze.

“Okay,” Izuku finally replies with a curt nod, biting at the edge of his smile before turning back to his food.

Shoveling a bit into his mouth, he keeps his attention turned to his plates as Bakugou sets the handmade card down. The near stifling atmosphere doesn’t wane as they both eat in silence. Instead, it continues to grow heavier, more heated, as Izuku tries to steer his mind away from the mesmerizing look that had settled in Bakugou’s eye when he’d seen the invitation.

Finishing up their meals, they both moved toward the kitchen sink, Izuku ready to start washing the dishes before Bakugou quickly hip checked him.

“The cook never cleans the dishes, nerd,” he huffs as if it was the most obvious thing in the world before he snatching the plate from Izuku’s grasp.

The warm, swirling ease of the wine had finally worked its way through his mind and limbs, leaving him inhibited as he reaches for the plate and giving it a tug in an attempt to get it back.

“But I invited you over to thank you,” Izuku huffs, keeping his eyes on the plate and the strong lines of Bakugou’s hands.

They’re very nice hands, he thinks.

“There are no loopholes to this rule,” he replies, pulling the plate free of Izuku’s hands once again. Turning to the sink, Bakugou turns on the water, seemingly putting an end to the discussion.

With a heavy sigh, Izuku leans back into the bend of the counter between the sink and stove, crossing his arms across his chest in displeasure as he watches the way the blonde scrubs at his plate.

“You just gonna stand there and stare at me until I give in?” Bakugou asks without looking up, taking his time to run the sponge back and forth over the porcelain.

“Would that work?” Izuku shoots back. Not expecting any reaction, he startles slightly at the sudden turn of Bakugou’s head as he looks over him, appraising him and his wine pliant words. As if finding the answer to the question he didn’t ask, he rolls his garnet gaze towards the ceiling before looking back to the sink.

Turning the water back on, he rinses the suds off before pushing the plate in Izuku’s direction. Drops of water plink on the tile between them.

“Fine, I’ll wash, you dry,” he compromises. Staring at the plate between them, Izuku’s holds his breath, unsure of what to say. In all honesty, he hadn’t expected Bakugou to give in so easily, if at all.

Droplets speckled Izuku’s shirt as Bakugou gives the plate an impatient shake that shakes him of his thoughts as he grabs the dish towel and then the plate.

“Deal,” Izuku says with a sharp nod as he begins to wipe the dish dry. With such few plates and utensils between the two of them, the job goes rather quickly with their combined forces, leaving the pan as the solitary dish left.

Picking it up, Izuku hands it over to Bakugou. Gently taking it from his grasp, the blonde sets it into the sink, turning on the water and watching it run before he speaks again.

“Thank you.”

The words are said low, nothing more than a wisp of a breath that Izuku isn’t sure he was supposed to hear them. Eyes snapping up from the blue towel between his hands, he traces his gaze over the sharp lines of Bakugou’s profile, mentally filing away the soft downcast look in his eyes, and the slight downward curve in his lips.

Maybe, if the wine hadn’t loosened his tongue, he would have let it go, allowing Bakugou the chance to pretend he hadn’t said anything at all.

“For what?” Izuku hears himself ask, voice just as breathy. Bakugou doesn’t move, instead keeping his attention turned to the now overflowing pan. He stays that way for so long that Izuku wonders if he’d actually even spoken up.

Then he slowly reaches forward to turn off the faucet before turning to look at him. Eyebrows pulling together as if having an internal debate, Bakugou opens his mouth to say something, pausing for just a moment more before speaking.

“I don’t know.”

Those three words, filled with so much confusion seem to ring with an unsaid truth as Izuku looks up to him, his own lips slightly parted around an unsaid remark.

Time seems to freeze, locking them both in a suspended, momentary breath. Deep within the ruby depths of Bakugou’s gaze, Izuku sees the bright burning flame of desire, and it acts like a spark to gasoline. Heat races like a forest fire through his veins, tearing through him and leaving his breathless as the world slams back down around them.

Izuku isn’t sure who moved first, doesn’t even think he cares.

All Izuku knows is Bakugou’s mouth is on his, and his fingers are twisting into the emerald strands at his nape in an attempt to keep him close, as if he’s planning on going anywhere. Blindly dropping the dish towel, Izuku grasps the front of Bakugou’s shirt with a fist as his other hand traces along the line of his shoulder to try and press him closer.

Sparking lightning catches along the spaces where their bodies touch, making Izuku moan low in his throat. Swallowing down the sound, Bakugou presses in infinitesimally closer, the motion pressing Izuku’s back further into the edge of counter.

The sharpness of it makes Izuku hiss, causing Bakugou to pull back.

Slowly opening his eyes to look up at him, Izuku finds himself the object of his shining gaze. It’s filled with the same soft wonder from earlier, only not it’s wholly for him. That very same look twists and burns through him, leaving behind nothing but ruin that Izuku thinks he might not ever recover from.

It leaves Bakugou’s mark deeply etched into his bones as Izuku lifts onto his toes to close the distance between them once more. A soft, sighing breath tickles across his bottom lip as he gently pushes back against the blonde, gently guiding them out of the kitchen at toward the stairs.

“Was this a part of your thank you plans?” Bakugou asks, dragging the words across Izuku’s skin before nipping at his earlobe.

“Shut up, Kacchan,” he snipes, fingers finding Bakugou’s belt before making quick work of unclasping its buckle. Stumbling up the steps, they only part long enough for the blonde to pull Izuku’s shirt over his head. The fabric falls slowly over the banister, landing in the foyer below as the pair makes their way to the top of the stairs.

A loud thump punctuates the quiet home as Bakugou pushes Izuku up against the closed door of his room. Gently nipping at the soft skin on the side of his throat, he pulls a sharp gasp from Izuku’s lips.

Welcoming his exploration, Izuku tilts his head as he grasps for the door knob. His stomach jolts suddenly as the door swings open behind him before a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist to steady him.

“Shit, Deku,” Bakugou huffs without any heat. Using the moment to his advantage, he lifts Izuku, holding him up against him until he wraps his legs around his waist. Fixing his smoldering gaze on him, Bakugou paints Izuku’s skin with its garnet coloring before capturing his lips once more.

Taking slow strides, he walks them toward the bed. Carefully, as if Izuku might break, he settles him down on the bedspread. The bedding is a soft cushion that embraces his back, eyes set on Bakugou as he pulls away.

Squeezing his legs around Bakugou’s hips to keep him close, Izuku watches as he slowly pulls his shirt over his head. With a quick flick of his wrist, Bakugou tosses the shirt over his shoulder before settling himself back down over him.

One hand splays beside Izuku’s head, and the other tracks burning desire up his flank, sending a shudder crashing through him. Not missing the way Bakugou smiles at the movement, he palms at the blonde’s stray hand tugging it up to the side of his neck before he leans up to catch that smile with his own.

It feels like he might be burning alive with the way their bare skin slides against each other. The only thing that tethers him to the ground is the contrasting cold of Bakugou’s undone belt buckle where it presses into his abdomen.

His lips are feather light, yet filled with burning intent where they skim across Izuku’s jaw. Following the strong line of bone, Bakugou’s attention grows heavier when he reaches his throat. Pressing open mouth kisses along the quick thrum of his pulses, the blonde continues the torturous path down toward his collarbone.

Izuku grasps at Bakugou’s back, nails raking across his skin and drawing bright red over his shoulders. Each careful press punched another breath from his lungs, leaving him gasping as Bakugou nipped at his collar.

“Katsuki.”

The name falls from his lips, painted in reverence and accompanied by a sudden stillness as Izuku realizes that breathless voice had been his own.

Even in their current state, something about Bakugou’s name feels intimate in a way that Izuku can’t seem to place. It’s something so much more than a sudden spark of mutual lust, something more than a date disguised as a thank you dinner.

It’s so much more than the stolen glances, playdates, and the stutter of his heart as he watches the way Bakugou and Eri get along.

It’s so much more.

“Bakugou, I—” Izuku starts, fingers still curled at Bakugou’s back as he stares up at the ceiling, only to be cut off by the soft, purring hum in the blonde’s throat. Turning his attention away from the shadows clinging to the ceiling, Izuku looks down to catch Bakugou’s soft gaze before he presses a kiss just above his heart.

“‘Zuku,” he whispers, the brush of his breath cool against the concentrated point of heat at his chest.

“Izuku,” Bakugou breathes again, clearer this time before pressing the name into his sternum. Continuing his path down, Bakugou alternates between soft presses and open mouthed kisses, separated only by the soft hush of Izuku’s name as his fingers make quick work of undoing his pants.

An aching, burning longing grows at the pit of Izuku’s stomach, pushing all else from his mind as he lifts his hips to accommodate the slide of his jeans downward. Bakugou’s palm drags a scathing line over his thigh as he traces the muscle, humming low in his throat as he tugs one of Izuku’s legs over his shoulder.

Flicking his gaze down, Izuku catches the way Bakugou looks up at him languidly from where he kneels between his thighs before he takes him in his hand.

The touch is electric, shooting a bolt through him that runs back and forth tracks through his veins as he tosses his head back. His hand is pleasantly rough, slicked with the lube that Izuku hadn’t even noticed he’d grabbed.

Each stroke is careful and slow, calculated in a way that gently leads Izuku towards the precipice. Working like a soothing tide, the beginnings of his end crest over him in waves, spurned on by the rhythmic movement of Bakugou’s hand.

There’s a soft brush at his hip, a barely there caress that has Izuku peeking down toward the blonde once more just in time to see his lips quirk wickedly before replacing his hand with his mouth.

Keening at the sudden, engulfing heat, Izuku grabs at the bedspread beneath him with one hand, as his other finds itself in Bakugou’s hair.

“I can’t,” he moans loudly, hips arching as Bakugou drags his tongue along the underside of his cock, circling the head before he pushes back down. Bakugou’s questioning hum is like a bolt that ricochets through him.

“I’m not going to,” Izuku starts, swallowing down another low moan as he feels the smooth touch of fingers running soothing lines across his skin. The path, from the back of his knee and up, draws closer and closer to where Izuku truly wants him to be, and he finds himself rocking his hips impatiently.

“I’m not going to last much longer if you don’t hurry the hell up,” he finally hisses through his clenched teeth as he hits the back of Bakugou’s throat. It earns him another hum, this one a shade off from a laugh.

Room filling with the sounds of his breathy moans, Izuku grips tighter at Bakugou’s hair as he feels the slow, slick intrusion of a finger. His thoughts burn away, leaving nothing but ash and wisps of smoke as Bakugou works him open.

It’s all too much, and nowhere near enough, as he sets a careful pace. Each crook of his finger and slow drag of his hand paired with the artful movement of his mouth has Izuku writhing.

Heat and light burns bright in his chest, growing and growing until Izuku wonders if Bakugou can see the bright glow shining between his ribs. It pushes out against his bones, until he can no longer breathe, can no longer think about anything other than the way that it seems to be breaking him apart.

Then Bakugou pulls away.

“Wha—” Izuku moans, half incoherent as Bakugou shakes his hand from his hair. Still balancing his leg on his shoulder, he smoothly pushes forward, bending Izuku in half as he nudges at his nose with his own.

“Izuku,” Bakugou breathes, pressing his name between their lips with a chaste kiss.

“Kat-“ Izuku stutters as he feels him, wet and hot at his hole, and he’s never needed so much.

“Katsuki.”

This close, he can see the dark flecks that mar the bright red of Bakugou’s gaze. They’re small speckles of imperfection that reminds Izuku that, impossibly, he’s real.

“Are you mine?” Bakugou growls, running a palm from his hip and over the side of his leg toward the knee at his ear as the other smooths over his arm. Pulling his grip free, Bakugou carefully pushes it up beside Izuku’s head and laces their fingers.

It’s an earnest question, genuine and honest, and it stuns Izuku. He’s been many things in his lifetime.

A son.

A friend.

A policeman.

A father.

But never has he ever thought of himself as anyone’s. Yet, separated by nothing more than the breadth of space between their heaving chests, Izuku finds he doesn’t even truly need to think about it.

“Yes,” he answers with a small nod, gasping at the involuntary twitch of Bakugou’s hips that push him ever so closer to his entrance. “Yes, I’m yours.”

“Good,” Bakugou chews out, sealing it like an oath between them as he pushes in. Izuku’s hand clutches hard around his like a lifeline as Bakugou fills him oh so slowly. Breathing him in, Izuku gives his own growl as he rocks his hips, spurring him on until he’s fully sheathed.

The movement seems to break whatever restraint Bakugou had had left as the hand at his knee slides down between them to grasp at Izuku as he starts to pump his hips. The duel sensation of his hand on him, and his heat inside him blinds Izuku as the light caught between his ribs returns with a deafening roar.

Chanting Bakugou’s name and a string of near incoherent curses, it doesn’t take long before his vision goes white and his sternum cracks with the sudden exploding weight of his release. Hanging onto the last threads of his consciousness, Izuku holds Bakugou close as he follows, his final moan pressing itself just beneath his ear.

A languid, bone deep ease works its way through him, leaving him pliant as he basks in the warmth of the lingering glow that still clings to his insides.

It takes several minutes for Izuku to resurface from the abyss, a small smile quirking his lips as he sees Bakugou wiping him clean carefully with what looks a lot like his shirt.

Maybe later, he’d find it in himself to care, but right now, with Bakugou slowly settling in beside him, he can’t really seem to.

Strong arms wrap around his middle, pulling him close to settle his back against Bakugou’s chest. Surrounded by the comforting warmth of his skin, Izuku pushes back into him, smile growing as he feels the steady beat of Bakugou’s heart at his back.

“Katsuki?” He asks into the dark room, voice low and filled with satisfied exhaustion. Guiding his hand along the strong forearm around his waist, he searches for Bakugou’s hand.

“Yeah, nerd?” Bakugou grumbles, breath ruffling Izuku’s curls as he flips his palm up to oblige him.

Wiggling his fingers between his grasp, Izuku hesitates slightly. He hadn’t really thought about what he was going to say, at least, that’s the lie he told himself as he yawned. The room around them settles into stillness as Bakugou waited for him to continue.

“Are you mine?” Izuku finally asks, eyelids growing heavy. Bakugou’s hand tightens slightly over his own as they both fall into silence once more. Exhaustion pulls at him, weighing him down and pushing him further into the welcoming darkness of sleep.

The last thing Izuku remembers as he finally settles into its warm embrace is the soft press of lips at his ear, and the careful brush of breath as Bakugou finally answers.

“For as long as you need me.”

***

#bkdk #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #i said a bang bang bangity bang i said a bang bang bangity bang #which is all my notes had said for this chapter tbh lol

8 notes · View notes

jbuffyangel · 5 years ago

Text

Strength: Arrow 8x05 Review (Prochnost)

We’re headed back to Russia for some Queen family vacation fun, except their version of “fun” is kidnappings and fight clubs.

Let’s dig in…

Oliver, Mia and William

Do you remember how we used to pray for a scene of Oliver teaching Felicity the bow and arrow?

The scenes with Helena fueled my hate fire for years. The closest we ever came to Olicity “training” was Oliver offering Felicity a few punching pointers

and the glorious salmon-ladder-leads-to-sex scene.

I’m not complaining! All I’m saying is we could’ve had a bow-and-arrow-training-leads-to-sex scene too. I have several insert-scenario-here-leads-to-sex scene ideas this show has yet to explore.

Anyway, if we can’t have Felicity training with Oliver then second best is their daughter training with Oliver. The intro to “Prochnost” is almost three minutes long and it’s pure fan fiction from start to finish.

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

Oliver teaches Mia how to tennis ball and uses cooking as analogy before he remembers she’s 50% Smoak.

It is clear Mia still has a lot to learn not only from a vigilante perspective, but also in terms of her archer skills.

When we met Oliver Queen in the pilot his skill set was perfected. He was a fully formed bad ass.

We haven’t seen Mia train other than a montage with Nyssa Al Ghul in 7x16 and I am thoroughly enjoying there’s still a lot she can learn from her father.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

Oliver reviews all of his trick arrows with Mia, but doesn’t want them to become a crutch.

Source: lucyyh

What he doesn’t say is trick arrows became more of a necessity in disabling criminals after killing them was no longer an option. We’ve come a long way with Oliver Queen. If you had told me father/daughter training sessions were in our future when I watched the pilot then I would’ve laughed you out of the room because that’s a special brand of CRAZY.

Of course, a training scene without the stick thingies wouldn’t be a training scene on Arrow.

Source: miasmoakdaily

Yes, I know there’s a technical term for the stick thingies, but if I haven’t learned it by now do you think I ever will? No is the right answer.

Oliver: Nyssa taught you well.

Mia: Mom made sure of it.

I think Arrow makes an important point during this scene. Nyssa Al Ghul is good, but she’s no Oliver Queen. There’s been many seasons where it feels like the writers down played Oliver’s skills to give the other team members something to do *cough*L*urelLance*cough*.

However, the writers seem particularly focused on showing how Oliver’s skills are a whole other level now. Remember, he’s the guy who killed Ra’s Al Ghul – probably the greatest fighter of all time. It’s why Riccardo Diaz being a formidable threat was so laughable. When Felicity reached out to Nyssa she was asking the best for help, but there truly is no substitute for Oliver Queen.

Source: miasmoakdaily

Mia “The Machine” Smoak-Queen (her official title btw) doesn’t need a break, but I love how Oliver worries about her nonetheless. DADDY OLIVER IS SO SOFT.

Source: amunetblack

Mia gently reins in William’s ramble and this is the brother/sister banter I am here for. Look, I know we’ve clocked a season and a half with these kids and I should be used to moments where they remind me of Oliver and Felicity, BUT I CAN’T GET USED TO IT. It still fills me with absolute glee anytime it happens.

Children are individuals with unique personalities, but one of the more fun aspects of parenting is seeing traits of other family members, or maybe even yourself, emerge in the child you’re raising. I feel the same glee when my daughter reminds me of my husband or mother. And since William and Mia are my fictional TV children why should I be any different?

There’s a Curtis reference in this scene, so naturally I doze off when that happens, but the cliff notes version is the energy wave that destroyed Earth 2 can be recreated. There’s a Russian general trying to replicate it via pulse wave generator weapon and Team Arrow needs to get the plans.

I think. Plus they need plutonium which Diggle volunteers to get.

Oliver invites the kids to Russia with him and they are equally as shocked as I am.

Really? We’re going to Russia? I mean, I know we’re going to Russia, but Oliver’s casual invitation makes this trip sound like the equivalent of a grocery store run. The kids are so excited to be invited they think they’re going to Disney World with Dad.

This is so not going to be Disney World. TELL THEM THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE DISNEY WORLD OLIVER.

Oliver: I’m a better man. Different man. I think I can teach them the good without showing them the bad.

Oliver thinks this is going to be Disney World.

Diggle accurately points out visiting the place which was home to the darkest point of his life may not be as simple as Oliver would like it to be. His answer is equally wonderful and sooooo WRONG. It’s WONDERFUL Oliver believes he’s a better man. It took us 8 long years to get here and his statement is no small thing. Round of applause for our boy.

Unfortunately, this is where the wonderful ends. Oliver is determined to only show his children the good. I guess it sounds ok when he says it, but upon closer examination it misses the forest through the trees. Everything that happened to Oliver Queen, good and bad, has formed the person he is. He cannot extricate the bad from this story anymore than he can the good. They are a sticky wicket forever entwined together. Take out one and you don’t get the full picture. And what his children need and deserve is the full picture.

That’s not to say Oliver’s filter is entirely wrong. There are certainly topics and information children are not ready to hear, can’t understand, or wouldn’t be appropriate to tell them. Every parent has some kind of filter when raising their children because that’s what good parenting requires.

This is appropriate when children are small. As your child grows into an adult then your relationship with them must become more adult, which requires more transparency. This is the problem between Oliver and his children. He is parenting like William and Mia are still little. And they are not.

If plans for a pulse generator sound like a flimsy excuse to go to Russia then you’d be right. The real reason we’re going to Russia isn’t because of some rando general. It’s to say goodbye to one of Arrow’s greatest supporting characters - Anatoly Knyazev

“My brother.”

I block out most of Season 6 because half of it was a walking horror show, so I don’t remember where Oliver and Anatoly left things after he joined and then betrayed Team Bad Guy.

I guess their cool now? I don’t really want to spend all kinds of time on Oliver and Anatoly hashing out their issues, so if a hug gets the job done then I’m good. Also William speaks Russian. Queen men speaking foreign languages is hot.

A+ reaction Steve.

Source: arrowdaily

Anatoly was bored in the Maldives, now owns a bar and has a delicious pina colada recipe so that pretty much catches us up on him. He offers to help find Burov, but Oliver doesn’t want Anatoly’s “friends” involved because they are Bratva and he’s not discussing the bad parts of Russia with his children. I think the good parts of Russia ended at pina colada, Oliver. See how this is going to be a problem?

The best place to meet up with Burov is a local fight club. This prompts William to share where he met his baby sister and gives us Oliver’s best dad reaction to date.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

Bless you William. You do God’s work my boy.

Mia: Why did you bring us on this mission if you aren’t going to let us help?

Oliver: This is the Bratva. They are terrible people and you guys are my kids.

Mia: Yes, but we’re not children.

Oliver: Well you are when I look at you.

Aww… my sweet, lovable, wonderful Oliver.

Do we ever stop looking at our children as children? Probably not. I know I will always be my parents’ baby girl and my daughter will always be mine. It is difficult to fully accept a human being as an adult when you’ve changed their diapers. And in Oliver’s defense he changed Mia’s diaper about five minutes ago in the present timeline, regardless of the future adults standing before him. We must give him some time to… adjust.

But Mia is Mia and doesn’t listen to anyone, other than William (SOUND FAMILIAR?) and he’s firmly on her team this week, so they go to the fight club and watch Dad in action. Mia has heard the stories of her father all her life but seeing him in action is an eye-opening experience. She is difficult to impress, but her dad is AWESOME. Yeah, we think so too honey. Welcome to stanning Oliver Queen.

Source: olivergifs

Unfortunately, the Bratva aren’t cool with the deal Oliver made with Burov and kidnap him along with Mia. Her Spidey sense was tingling, so she went to check on dad. Oops.

Source: feilcityqueen

If there is one lesson the Arrow villains consistently fail to learn it’s DO NOT MESS WITH PEOPLE OLIVER QUEEN LOVES. He gets very angry and wildly unpleasant, which leads to many broken bones and occasionally murder. You put hands on Felicity Smoak and even I’m down with Oliver ripping off your head.

Of course, Oliver wakes from unconsciousness and his immediate question is if Mia is okay. Can’t-Admit-I’m-In-Love-With-You Oliver,

Boyfriend Oliver,

Fiance Oliver,

Ex-boyfriend Oliver,

Husband Oliver,

and Dad Oliver are all the same Olivers.

Mia doesn’t understand why everyone in Russia knows who Oliver is and quickly deduces Dad was Bratva. Our princess is a smart cookie! Oliver is ticked Mia didn’t listen to him and there is truly no greater justice in the world than God creating a child who is exactly like you. Robert and Moira are having themselves a nice little chuckle.

Source: lucyyh

The Bratva threatens to torture Mia if Oliver doesn’t tell them what’s on the zip drive. Mia is very brave and tells Daddy not to say anything. Pfft. Not likely Little Miss Square Bear. He points a gun at Oliver’s precious girl and counts down from five. The Green Arrow breaks like a pretzel. Honestly, I’m shocked Oliver didn’t give the guy the whole store after four.

Source: olicitygifs

Unfortunately, nobody believes Oliver is telling the full story and a very large knife is brandished in Mia’s direction. Seriously? The one-time Oliver tells the truth he’s accused of lying. How ironic is that? The goon was at least 20 feet away from Mia, but Daddy was ready to flay him alive seven different ways.

Oh. He was only cutting the restraints. Okay, we’ll knock down the flaying to five different ways.

The Bratva force Mia to play the Ring the Bell game. I don’t know if that’s what it’s called, but it works for my purposes. Oliver is very much HELL NO CHILD, but really her only other option is death. Of course, if she doesn’t ring the bell she dies too. ISN’T RUSSIA FUN?

Mia kicks major ass, but is unable to ring the bell in under 60 seconds. This might have something to do with her wasting time to look back at the clock and then waiting an additional 3 seconds to reach for the friggin bell, but that’s just details. Be less stupid Arrow.

The Bratva don’t shoot her because… they’re nice gang of Russian mobsters now?

Source: arrowdaily

This made very little sense other than Arrow doesn’t want to shoot the female lead of their new television show. On second thought, good enough for me. Oliver shoots death daggers at the man who scared the friggin bejesus out of him and it’s pretty much a certainty he will be flayed eight different ways.

William has a full-on panic attack over his father and sister’s kidnapping and it’s pretty much the cutest thing ever. Then L*urel actually provides some necessary and helpful information. Is that the second week in a row this happened? I’m scared fandom. Hold me.

L*urel: Aren’t the people in your family constantly injecting each other with tracking devices?

William: Normally I would say God I hope not, but now I guess I can see the advantages.

He’s able to track them down, but L*urel and Anatoly show up right after Oliver has already freed himself by dislocating his thumbs. I love that trick. Mia’s reaction is the perfect combination of horrified and impressed. She really wants that trick to be on the next lesson plan.

Mia is bumming hard over not ringing the bell and boozes it up with some scotch. THY NAME IS GENETICS.

Oliver has had enough of his kids almost dying and is putting their asses on a plane back home BECAUSE THIS ISN’T DISNEY WORLD.

William jumps firmly on Team Mia and reminds their father he’d be dead without them. Oliver has been dislocating his thumbs on his own for awhile now children. I think he’d survive without your help.

It’s time to set these kiddies straight.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Mia tries to argue the whole adults saving the city angle, but that’s not going to fly in this timeline cupcake.

In this timeline, Oliver smooshed those perfect chubby cheeks one more time before he left to save the universe

Source: oliverxfelicity

and his rebelling teenage son, who was ousted from the present storyline to make a ridiculous plot point work in the future storyline, ignored his phone calls. (I’m never getting over the whole William never moves in with Mia and Felicity thing. NEVER.)

So, all of his children can take several seats and do what they’re told or they will be grounded! That includes no computer for you, William and Oliver will be taking that bow and arrow back little miss Mia.

Side note: This was a perfect time for William to explain WHY he didn’t return any of Oliver’s calls or if he even received them, but NOPE. Why would these writers attempt to clean up this mess of a storyline with reasonable explanations? Better to just ignore the Grand Canyon sized plot holes and keep driving through.

Stephen Amell does a wonderful job in this scene as Oliver’s voice quivers with emotion. He’s skating the edge of keeping his composure and losing it all together perfectly this season. Neither Mia nor William have offered much understanding for where Oliver is coming from. Yes, they are adults but 1) No matter how old they get they will always be Oliver’s children and 2) HE MISSED TWENTY YEARS.

Oliver has been very clear this was not a choice he wanted to make. Mia and William are not the only ones who lost something precious. Oliver lost a lot too. Part of being an adult is letting go of the natural narcissism we all have as children. So, if Mia and William want to put on their big boy and big girl pants then they need to show their father a little understanding and compassion.

Mia: And because you made the choice to protect us I had to spend my whole life alone. I didn’t have a chance to get to know my brother to get to know you.

Mia is not ready to do that yet. She throws Oliver’s choices in his face once again. He is still the one she wants to blame. If this reaction frustrates you then that’s understandable because Mia is supposed to be frustrating right now. It’s odd for us to be identifying through Oliver, but that’s what happens when the hero becomes fully evolved. This entire episode is about showing how much Mia still has to learn not only physically, but emotionally too.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Oliver is getting used to Mia’s blame by now and it doesn’t really change his opinion on this situation. The worst part of this argument is Oliver believing his children hate him. His worst nightmare was Mia and William not understanding his choices and resenting him for it. Oliver’s greatest fear isn’t death. It is his children believing he abandoned them.

Mia being angry at Oliver over not growing up with William is really not his fault and it’s bizarre how the writers are insistent on lumping that in with everything else she’s ticked about. I did a deep dive on Mia’s emotional and psychological viewpoint last week and I won’t repeat it here because everything still stands. But how is Felicity never going back for William Oliver’s fault?

I’m not putting the blame on Felicity here either. It’s a ludicrous plot point that makes absolutely no sense, so it’s pointless to even try to argue the logic. And yet, that’s exactly what the writers keep trying to do. But it merely shines a brighter spotlight on their illogical reasoning behind the decision.

We are already sympathizing with Oliver because we know how heartbroken he was to leave his children. We know he sacrificed everything for a bunch of ungrateful twats who caught a lucky break for existing in the universe. But forcing Mia’s character to continually blame Oliver for EVERYTHING can rapidly make this character unlikeable. Particularly since her father left to SAVE THE UNIVERSE. The writers need to tread carefully. This has the same nonsensical threads of the Season 4 break up. Or, even worse, Mia channeling the same the anger/blame/bitterness of Season 1 & 2 L*urel Lance. Nobody wants a repeat of those hot messes.

Oliver is floundering. He missed twenty years of his children’s lives. They’ve arrived from a different time as adults. Oliver was still learning how to be a parent and then the universe flipped the board. He has no idea how to do this and the one person who can help him isn’t here. If there was ever a time Oliver needed his Felicity this is it.

So, the only guiding light Oliver has right now is the promise he made his wife and mother of his children.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Not to get too nitpicky on the details Oliver, but as @callistawolf pointed out in our Watchover episode of 8x05, we never heard him make any promises to Felicity about the children.

In their final goodbye, it was Felicity promising Oliver to do whatever was necessary to keep their children safe (re: Nyssa Al Ghul). So, let’s just create our own head canon there was some Olicity discussion about the future kids being in present day off screen and he made the promise to her then. Cool? Cool.

OR Oliver is merely trying to score points in an argument via emotional manipulation, which hey man. More power to you. Whatever it takes to keep kiddos safe, I guess. I did have to chuckle about Oliver keeping his promises to Felicity NOW that she’s off the show. Where was this guy in 6x23? Or maybe I sobbed quietly. Probably a little of both. Regardless of the reasoning, it’s an EPIC speech. Dad for the win.

Oliver decides it’s time to get boozy. Amen brother. Pass the scotch.

Anatoly is no Felicity Smoak, but in the ever-spinning weekly wheel of characters trying to fill her role, he asks the obvious question. Is Oliver sending his children home because he believes they cannot handle Russia/vigilantism/life?

Of course, the answer has been obvious from the moment Oliver decided to only share the good. It’s not about what his children can handle. This is about what Oliver can handle.

Anatoly: That is understandable. You’re ashamed. You have truly done some terrible things.

Oliver: Thank you for the reminder.

Anatoly: But you also have done some good things. It’s important that the kids see both.

Can’t you just hear Felicity Smoak saying these lines? Only in an adorable ramble and less booze? I miss her. Just leaving this here.

I absolutely understand Oliver’s refusal to share the darkest moments of his past. It’s not like my dad has gone chapter and verse into his Vietnam experiences. But I know he was there. I know some of the stories. Maybe Oliver doesn’t need to go into detail about the time he skinned a guy, but he can be honest with his children about being in the Bratva.

Anatoly: That’s the thing about teaching. It’s not about what you want to say. It’s about what they need to hear.”

This part of the speech is all Anatoly.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

He taught Oliver living was not for the weak because this was the lesson Oliver needed to hear. Maybe he missed out on teaching William and Mia how to tie their shoes or ride a bike, but nobody understands what it means to be a hero better than Oliver Queen. The Crisis is coming and if Oliver is marching slowly but steadily to his death then he must pass on all he’s learned. There is still so much to teach Mia and William about Oliver’s life and who he is. Those lessons can only come from their father. What William and Mia need to hear is the truth.

“You were so little. I think that’s what I’ve always wanted all these years. Is for you just to stay little, quiet and safe. But you’re not any of those things. You’re loud and fearless and it scares the crap out of me.” Derek Shepherd, Grey’s Anatomy

His children are loud and fearless and it scares the crap out of Oliver Queen. But there’s a deeper fear driving his hesitation. Oliver is afraid that if he tells Mia and William the truth about his past then they’ll only hate him more. He is constantly afraid of losing his children’s love.

But truth is the path to understanding. Anatoly is right. Oliver must give Mia and William a chance. The real truth is there’s nothing he has done or will ever do that will make his children stop loving him. Sure, Mia is angry at Oliver, but she’s only angry because she loves him. She craves her father’s approval more than anything.

Oliver changes his parenting tactic. He cannot shield his children from the very life they have chosen for themselves. He asks Mia to fight in the ring with him and William to help get them in. Oliver treats his children like they are part of the team – like partners.

Mia has been trying to show her father what she’s capable of since the moment she came to the present. Underneath all that anger and blame, is a little girl who just wants to make her daddy proud. What Mia needs to realize is she already makes Oliver proud merely by existing. However, he offers her the support and belief she’s been craving as they enter the ring together.

Source: oliverxfelicity

The look on her face says everything about how Mia truly feels about her dad.

Source: arrowdaily

FATHER DAUGHTER FIGHT CLUB. From the moment, we met Blackstar in the ring I hoped she was Olicity’s daughter and we would somehow, someway get a scene of Oliver and Mia teaming up. But I never imagined these circumstances. It’s awesome.

After kicking butt as a team and a family, Oliver opens the door to his past and lets his children walk through. And what better place to start than the beginning?

Source: olivergifs

The truth is a tie that binds and it will be the foundation of Oliver’s relationship with his children. Something he never had with his parents until it was too late.

And did William and Mia stop loving Oliver after they heard the truth? No. They understand him better and love him all the more for what he’s survived.

Mia: Don’t forget to send me that picture of my dad with that haircut.

Anatoly: Don’t forget to ask about Bratva tattoo. We have matching.

Oliver: Used to. Used to actually.

William: Oh I’m gonna need to hear that story immediately.

Well... son this raving loony burned my tattoo off my chest after several hours of torture.

The warm banter of this scene isn’t to make light of what Oliver Queen suffered. It’s to show the power of telling our stories. Pain and fear lose control over us, bit by bit, the more we talk about it and share with our loved ones. We let them inside the good and bad, so we don’t have to carry it by ourselves anymore. Overtime, we begin to see our suffering for what it is - something we survived. Children, in particular, have an ability to find the light in the dark. We can see our life through their eyes and remarkably, yes even find the humor in what was once unspeakable pain. And come on - Oliver’s flashback hair is always funny.

Family is the source of Oliver’s strength. It always has been. It’s what helped him survive the unsurvivable.

He can only become his children’s strength by teaching them how he became a better man. William and Mia can only understand who their father is, and how to be heroes, by knowing the good and the bad. Hiding either tarnishes the beauty of his story. Oliver is finally strong enough to tell it and his children are strong enough to hear it. And that’s how the past, present and future will find harmony, acceptance, forgiveness and love.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Diggle and Roy

John enlists Roy’s help obtaining the plutonium.

Source: thistributeisonfire

We’re going to run through this pretty quick because this storyline is all about getting Colton Haynes back on Team Arrow for the final episodes.

Diggle tells Roy what happens to him in the future. The cure for Roy’s bloodlust wasn’t hiding out on Lian Yu for 20 years. It was rejoining the team and fighting for the city again.

Diggle: Maybe this time you don’t have to wait that long.

Diggle’s ENTIRE motivation is to change Roy’s future and it’s not difficult to figure out why. Obviously John cares about Roy and wants to help him. However, Roy also makes a very good test case. Diggle is also desperate to change Connor, JJ and Zoe’s future as well. If they can make their own hope in the present then maybe things can be different for his children in the future.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

We all need love and support. None of us can truly survive on our own - particularly when we are suffering. Roy fights John at first, but eventually he comes to realize he’s right. Roy found purpose and family when he met Oliver so it makes sense to him they are the reason he gets better. So why wait? He comes home and begins the path to healing twenty years earlier. And thus, a major storyline from Season 7 flash forwards begins to change.

ROY MADE SENSE Y’ALL!!!

L*urel L*nce

I truly could not figure out why L*urel was in Russia. I guess to help Oliver track down these plans, but she spent the better part of the episode staring at her fingernails. That’s not even an exaggeration. KC stared at her fingernails for an entire scene.

Source: thistributeisonfire

Her interactions with Oliver are even more bizarre.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

I’m sorry, but does L*urel go here? Bl*ck S*ren has been on the show since Season 5. You’d think at this point she’d know Oliver Queen can easily handle one guy twice his size. I’m chalking up this stupidity to the acting version of a layup, so Stephen Amell can spike it with the epic comeback of, “I’ll give him half a chance.”

I guess L*urel is primarily in Russia to betray Oliver Queen and steal the plans or something, per Lyla’s instructions.

LL: And here I thought I was supposed to be the bad guy.

At last count Lyla never murdered innocent people, so I think she's still ahead by the numbers Bl*ck S*ren. This is the problem with L*urel’s character this year. The comparisons her character makes this season are INSANE. Putting on a new suit and calling yourself Bl*ck C*nary doesn’t automatically make you morally superior to everyone.

At least when Season 7 L*urel was playing attorney she had a healthy perspective on herself. I was a big fan of the snark last season and found her character to be refreshingly amusing in her biting honesty, but this year the writers lost the snarky humor and have gone straight to obnoxious hypocrisy and judgment. Sometimes she’s just downright mean in a way none of the other characters deserve. Yes, Lyla is being shady, but this in no way erases the horrors of your past L*urel.

L*urel: If saving it means going back to the person I used to be then what the hell is the point?

We all know this whole betray Oliver thing the Monitor is playing at with L*urel is a trick. She’s not going to betray Oliver and prove herself a worthy and useful hero. Ok. Whatever. I know I’m supposed to get excited about her big speech, but this line kind of gnawed at me.

L*urel is unwilling to save an ENTIRE EARTH because she’d have to do something shady. She’s not willing to do any dirty work if it sullies her good name. So, Earth 2 only matters as long as L*urel gets to be a hero on it? I guess I should be happy L*urel is holding onto her moral center, but if there’s anything Oliver Queen’s story has taught us sometimes heroism requires doing unpleasant things for the greater good.

Take Lyla for example – a person L*urel feels quite comfortable judging. Lyla has been lying to her husband, something she does not want to do, for the greater good. I think we know enough about Lyla’s character by now that even though her actions are hurtful we can trust her reasons.

LL’s primary function this week it seems is to rat Lyla out to Diggle and Oliver.

Source: stevesrogered

I guess we’re supposed to rejoice there’s no price L*urel is willing to pay for her morality, but this is still the same person who has yet to take any responsibility for the people she’s murdered. The line just sounded so arrogant and self serving to me. I don’t know. Maybe it was just KC’s delivery.

It’s been difficult for me to imagine what role either L*urel or Dinah will play in the spin off and seeing as how the writers are struggling to find a purpose for their characters in the final season of Arrow I am not encouraged. That said, L*urel’s scene with Mia was one of the few bright spots for her character in this week’s episode. Mia believes she’s not cut out to be a hero because she failed to ring the bell like her father and Zoe’s death still weighs heavily on her conscious.

Mia: Every time I try and live up to my dad or to prove I can do what it is you all do. I fail.

L*urel: If you’re trying to live up to us, don’t. We are just as flawed as anyone. Especially me. All you can do is live up to yourself.

Damn L*urel. That was really good advice and a truthful reflection of the person you are. CAN WE HAVE THIS ATTITUDE CONSISTENTLY WEEK TO WEEK PLEASE WRITERS? This is the first time I can see a version of L*urel working in the spin off, but that’s always the problem with the writing of her character. We never know which version we’re going to get.

Season 8 is slipping back into very bad Season 1 habits. There’s a lack of cohesiveness with L*urel and they really need to get this sorted out before the new show hits the air. Otherwise, we’re going to have the same problem we’ve always had with her character. No matter how many versions of L*urel’s character these writers create they never figure out who she truly is because they don’t want to devote the necessary screen time. This leaves us with a half baked canary every single time.

If L*urel is going to play Rupert Giles to Mia’s Buffy in the spin off then this scene is a good indication of how it could work, but that’s only if this path stays on track which seldom happens with this character. The key to LL is a very specific supporting role. She worked great in Season 7 because her focus was getting Oliver Queen out of jail. Then,it was about fleshing out her redemption and shipping her back to E2 to make amends.

L*urel lacks a concrete To Do list this year. They toss her into scenes and she takes up space looking at her fingernails. Or she arrives a few minutes after Oliver frees himself to scream down a door he could have easily opened. Or she says something hypocritical and nasty. REALLY? This is the best these writers can come up with? Sadly, history points to yes.

Keep her scenes short. Keep her scenes specific. Keep her scenes supporting. That’s the only way this character works. And believe me I wish it was different, but there doesn’t seem to be any version of L*urel L*nce these writers can keep a handle on.

You know what I appreciate about this scene between Anatoly and William though? Anatoly addresses his less than honorable past and apologizes. I can’t fully remember what Anatoly did to William - I think it might have been related to kidnapping or a bomb or a nuke or all three. See? I told you I don’t remember S6. My point is - can we expect an apology from L*urel for being an accessory to William’s mother’s murder? I won’t hold my breath. It would be extremely helpful if they addressed LL’s past in an honest way and actually had her show remorse to one of her victims, but again that requires more screen time and effort than this show is ever will to give her character.

SO WHY DO THEY KEEP HER AROUND?

Stray Thoughts

Connor isn’t in this week’s episode because he’s checking in on Sandra. Soooo… Connor can visit his mother but Mia and William can’t visit theirs? I know this is yet another EBR plot hole, but find a better reason for Connor to be MIA writers. It just makes the Smoak-Queen family look uncaring, which we know they are not. And if Connor can get an off camera mother moment mention then why can’t Mia and William? THESE ARE THE THINGS THAT ANNOY ME.

“Has anyone fought six men before?” Mia and Oliver’s side eye is hilarious, but didn’t Mia fight six goons by herself? And we’ve watched Oliver take down twenty without breaking a sweat. Raise the number in the ring a little if you want me to take their hesitation seriously.

Diggle is absolutely horrified to find out Lyla is working against the team with The Monitor. “I didn’t want to believe it was true.” Boy, really? Who are you kidding? This is Lyla Michaels, super spy. She’s been lying and doing shady things from minute one. She’s the Oliver to your Felicity. Get out of here with that nonsense. This is totally something she would do and you know it. Lol

William doesn’t like the field, but the allure of beautiful couture convinces him otherwise. At least he didn’t have to go on a skeevy date with Ray Palmer to wear it. Source: felicitysmoakgifs

William’s “Wrap it up” sign while Mia was fighting was such a funny and wonderful way of showing their team within a team.

“I can be the fun uncle.” Raise your hand if you want Anatoly as a fun uncle.

He was a complicated, but ultimately wonderful character who made Arrow a better show.

Goodbye Anatoly. I will miss you. source: oliverxfelicity

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 8x05 gifs credited.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

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keichanz · 6 years ago

Text

Oscurità, amore mio | II

I found my new title!

Previously known as Dalle Ceneri, this story is now titled Oscurità, amore mio which means “Darkness, my love” in Italian. Sooooo many hugs and thanks goes out to my dearest friend and inspiration @sssuperbartola! She’s been immensely helpful with writing this story and I couldn’t do it without her, or @sesshsbae! Thanks you two! <3

Read on AO3.

Dark eyes wide with a something akin to warried shock, Kagome took in the figure standing before her in all his muscled glory, his eyes the color of burnished amber, skin lightly tanned, and his mouth stretched into a wicked grin that did indeed reveal fangs, however they were smaller and definitely not that of the bloodsucker variety.

Kagome opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “You’re not—”

“Nope,” he said, crossing his arms.

“But you can—”

“Yep.”

She shook her head, utterly confused and yet at the same time—

No. No, she was just confused. She was not impressed. She wasn’t. She wasn’t.

“I don’t under—h-how—”

He sighed, as if deeply troubled, though from what Kagome was getting from his emotional grid, he was more amused than anything. The bastard. “That’s a bit of along story, I’m afraid,” he confessed and then glanced somewhere behind her before cocking a brow. “One, by the looks of it, that you don’t really have the time for.”

She frowned at him and turned around to follow his gaze. “What—son of a bitch!”

Trying and failing to blend in with the gyrating and swaying bodies on the dance floor, the vampire her boss had sent her to eliminate was attempting to make his getaway. If Kagome hadn’t been absolutely certain he was her target, the intense panic that slammed into her when he caught her staring at him instantly gave him away and after that he abandoned all pretenses of stealth and made a mad dash for the exit, shoving humans out of his way and ignoring the indignant shrieks of protest.

Forgetting about the white-haired vampire-but-not, Kagome immediately took off after him, managing to slip between the sea of people more effectively than he had and was out the door in record time. The cold air made her skin pebble but she ignored it as she hiked up her leather skirt and retrieved her Sig, double palming it as she edged along the wall of the pub and peered into the dark alley beside it.

She didn’t see anything, but that meant nothing. Vampires were adapt that concealing their presence, but Kagome knew what to look for, dark eyes skittering around and searching for signs of his hasty escape, mentally reaching out and attempting to glean his location from the faint trail of panic she could still sense.

Cautiously she stepped into the dark ally and inched further down the narrow strip of pavement, taking note of the trash cans, a dumpster and various boxes lined up along the parallel walls of the buildings. The sliver of moonlight helped her see, but it was still dark enough where she had to squint to make out the shape leaning against the dumpster. She kept her gun pointed at it as she stepped closer, but huffed in irritation when it turned out to be a pile of garbage bags.

Scowling, the dark-haired assassin lowered her weapon and thrust a hand through her hair in frustration, cocking a hip and chewing on her bottom lip in contemplation. She knew he wouldn’t have gone very far; she had extensive and accurate knowledge that this particular bloodsucker got his meals in pubs such as the one she just left, and it was the only one open around here for miles. She was positive he would be back; underlying the panic she’d felt as he’d fled had been a gnawing hunger that had been ignored for one day too long and he was weaker than usual as a result, so traveling very far in his condition was unlikely. Right now he was most likely biding his time and waiting until she gave up the chase before returning.

She inwardly snorted. Yeah, fat chance. She’d waited a whole month once before taking down her target; a few hours were nothing.

Grumbling in annoyance, but knowing there wasn’t much she could do at the moment, Kagome holstered her Sig, turned around—and jumped.

“Jesus—what the fuck!”

A fang-bearing grin. “Flattery will get you everywhere, mia bella fenice.”

Ignoring that rather egotistical remark, Kagome’s lips tightened as her hand flew to her left hip. “You have no right,” she hissed and had the fleeting thought to go for her gun, but immediately dismissed it. He was far too close and ten times faster than she; he’d be on her before she could even draw it.

“You gave me the right when you purposely attracted me with that god-awful travesty of a song,” he returned smoothly, giving a careless shrug and Kagome wanted to punch him because she couldn’t even refute that. “I’m certain Tallon rooted around in there as well and found more than he bargained for, which explains his hasty retreat.”

“Tallon?”

He stared at her. “Your target?”

Kagome balked. “You know him?”

He gave another careless shrug. “No, but I’ve seen him around. He frequents this pub.”

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Only someone who also frequents a pub would say that.”

“I like their breadsticks,” he said blandly by way of explanation, his expression blank.

A vampire that liked breadsticks. Oh good lord she should’ve had a drink when she had the chance.

“I’m not a vampire,” he casually reminded her but Kagome didn’t believe it. Vamps were the only creatures that had the ability to mind read.

Crossing her arms, Kagome quirked a brow at him and asked, voice heavy with skepticism, “Really. Then what are you?”

He smiled at her, catching her off guard and she resisted the urge to inch away. The smile was pleasant enough, but there was an underlying hint that said danger and it made her uneasy.

“I already told you, bella fenice,” he said and his golden eyes grew hooded even as he continued to smile at her. “It’s a long story.”

“Stop calling me that,” she snapped, eyes the color of dark chocolate glaring at him with a veiled fire that threatened to burn him to the bone if he continued to provoke her.

He tilted his head, all innocence, and Kagome barely kept herself from snorting. Vampires were anything but innocent. “It suits you,” he said, racking his gaze down her body and she shuddered despite herself. His grin told her he’d noticed. “You are fiery. Passionate. I felt that a name like ‘phoenix’ would be quite flattering. You don’t like it?”

Kagome glared at him and felt her cheeks heat despite herself.

His grin widened. “Would you prefer something else? Perhaps piccolo gattina? Dolce angelo? Or maybe something more along the lines of bella bonazza.”

She had no idea what that last one meant, but it didn’t matter because going by the way those molten eyes crinkled at the corners and the deep chuckle that reverberated in his chest, it wasn’t an improvement. With every ridiculous name he rattled off Kagome’s jaw clenched even tighter and her hand suddenly itched, wanting to feel the reassuring steel of her gun against her palm while she popped a few silver bullets into the fucker’s forehead.

When still she didn’t answer him, he raised his eyebrows and the smile he gave her that time was downright lethal. “No? Then how about—”

She snapped and spat harshly without thinking, “Kagome! My name is Kagome, you goddamn—”

Kagome froze and the color abruptly drained from her face as her eyes went very large. Her heart beat erratically in her chest as the sense of what she’d just inadvertently done came crashing down upon her and she stumbled backwards as if the realization was an invisible force. Horror and dread roiled through her so strongly she felt sick and she swallowed compulsively as bile rose in her throat, her stomach rolling uncomfortably, her blood turning to ice in her veins, leeching the warmth from her skin and causing her to shiver almost uncontrollably.

The coldness she felt, however, was nothing compared to the deadly chilling smile he gave her then that was at complete odds with the searing heat in those molten amber eyes.

“Ka-go-me,” he purred, sealing her fate, and then he moved so fast Kagome didn’t even register it until her head was suddenly yanked back and two sharp points pressed against the soft flesh where her jaw met her neck. She jerked, but the steel arm around her waist prevented her from escaping and she bit down hard on her lip to stifle the whimper when a hot tongue lashed against her skin.

“You—you tricked me,” she gasped breathlessly, pushing against his chest, hating how her traitorous body reacted to his closeness. Gone now was the previous chill that had blanketed her body after she’d made her foolish mistake and in its place was a raging heat that roared through her with the intensity of a thunderstorm. Her nipples tightened, her muscles clenched in need, and warmth pooled between her legs—all instinctive reactions because she’d foolishly forgotten herself in her anger and irrevocably bound them together tighter than any contract ever could.

All because she’d willingly given a vampire her name and everyone knew that to do so was as good as signing your own death warrant because your life was no longer your own.

“No, mia bella fenice,” he growled against her neck and he heard her breath hitch in her throat. “I didn’t. You gave me your name willingly, and now...” He dragged his fangs along the slender column of her throat, brushing his lips against her thundering pulse and pressing a tender, whisper-soft kiss against the wildly fluttering skin.

Then his grip tightened, a savage growl erupted from his throat, and he snarled, “Now, Kagome, you’re mine.”

He struck and Kagome screamed.

*cackles gleefully* God this is so fun.

Piccolo gattina - little kitten Dolce angelo - sweet angel Bella bonazza - loosely translated “hot stuff.”

Originally I wanted Inuyasha to call her “sugar lips hot tits” but there’s really nothing that translates to those direct words lmao

I | II | III

#Oscurità amore mio #ii #inuyasha #kagome #inukag #supernatural au #fanfiction #keizfanfiction #iM HAVING SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA LKAJFKLAJHDF;F

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