#and I feel like people who’s grown up only around one specific group might struggle when moving to an area that has a lot more kinds of folk

[the-breloominati]

eighty million different cultural faux pas on the world of terra based around animal instincts and how they would intersect with perceptions of class

[sailorblossoms-rankane]

What's your most traumatic ranma1/2 ffic experience? I'll go first, dont remember the name, but 'ranma gets roofied at a houseparty and gets pregnant.'

i don't think i can top that if i'm real... i have trauma from other fandoms so i use ao3's filter system so there's a lot i don't see (i assume the most fucked up stuff is in older fics or outside of the rankane tag...) i also avoid very old fics (recently read one where ranma's solution to everyone chasing him was "i'm gonna let them kill me" and somehow this was humorous in tone lmfao meanwhile akane was traumatized?? it also commits the sin of grouping akane with the clowns chasing ranma, which i'm gonna blame on the old show) especially knowing people were just doing whatever back in the day (including people writing fics based on other's fics without having ever read the manga or watched the anime???) i can tell you things that annoy me instead lol (not including summaries that served me only to add more tags in my "exclude" bar cuz you couldn't pay me to read those)

akane struggles with insecurities but "a person who has zero confidence and is always on the verge of breaking" she's not.

ranma and akane fighting or their banther is not easy to capture, is it. a lot of fics overdo it. it shouldn't feel like they might kill each other for real or there's real HOSTILITY lol

casanova ranma: the manliest of men with the biggest of dicks, written for the female reader who might or might not want to fuck him or for those who might be self-inserting with him. this ranma will fuck anything with a pulse and a skirt cuz he's a grown man with needs! (nevermind that canonically akane is the one who gets anywhere near horny thoughts and that ranma runs from intimacy, self sabotages, is emotionally stunted and mentally younger than he is, moves and "grows" at a very slow pace, gets uncomfortable by the horniness of the guys around him, is generally uninterest in people's looks other than his own... fanon is fanon but surely more fics could take inspiration from that) (somehow i'm always jumpscared by this one... i remember a fic where every man was a fucking pig and after already meeting akane he sleeps with another girl and then goes out on the balcony to smoke and stare at a billboard with akane's picture hahahahahaha that's where i dropped it. i read it because, dumb bitch that i am, i wanted a cute idol/bodyguard fic, i was thinking more about the 90s movie in terms of vibes but anyway)

fics where ranma is just some guy. even in normal aus i feel like we need to have that curse! where's my girl! (even worse if it's paired with casanova ranma)

anything that uses ukyo and/or shampoo as exes for ranma or "they could be together and perhaps even be happy if it wasn't for akane" is an automatic "you haven't thought about this boy that much, have you" and also a "you're not catching what these girls actually want, romance-wise, and how little patience they have for ranma's actual self" ... they are specifically girls ranma is incompatible with mind you!

holy shit this fandom has a problem with shampoo. i will spare everyone the details of this one but writers who both like and dislike her fail to see her as anything other than a sex object or some sort of seductress she's never meant to be or an extremely promiscuous woman. she's a complicated character who's used for fanservice, but she's never meant to be "seducing" ranma, it's not something that crosses her mind or that ranma is in danger of. bro is a modest maiden here, more likely to faint. she's meant to be innocent in this area (in a way that doesn't match her actions but there's not a single thought behind those eyes when she jumps ranma! she's childish!) hate it when i'm jumpscared by "ranma ogling at shampoo/being hypnotized by her charms and/or using her for sexual relief" because "it's realistic" or some shit. girl fuck you. respectfully. let's look at the panels and pages with ranma and shampoo together because clearly, there are things we are misunderstanding here, things we aren't catching. the guy is freezing and shitting himself, he doesn't know to react. he's not being fucking seduced. i also promise we can use shampoo as an antagonist in fics without bringing sex or the prospect of it. i can say this with confidence because a lot of her antagonism in the manga is her using her brains and her abilities

i feel like i'm forgetting a lot of things but you know what, love that for me

[unmotivated-cosmere-nerd]

After reading some posts (spesifically on the nature of magic by @felonytaxevasion and creature design by @lakesbian) and some other urban fantasy novels I have a bunch of ideas floating around about Pact and Pale that I want to explore via writing something

The core three ideas are:

The Magics meaning within the world

The History of the practice

And the people who wield the practice.

I should start out by saying I disagree with @felonytaxevasion's take that the magic is a metaphor about Family specifically and think its more about the systems we build as a society, although the "traditional family" is definitely one of them.

Although to a certain point I don't even think its a metaphor, the practice as it exists , is literally a man made system build by one guy 3000 years ago in a small corner of the world that has expanded and dominated the rest of the world forcing its rules onto everyone because no one can agree on a better solution. The Practitioner must literally agree to a social contract where they define themselves to the rest of the world that causes the speech and actions to be policed by the world around them.

Which is something I love about the Practice, its not a genetic magic system, but one anyone can sign up for. Aside from the unappealing eugenics of genetic magic systems, where some people are born "better", it also speaks a lot about generational determinism the idea that the next generation will naturally be better and more enlightened and that diversity is a new thing. In contrast in Pact and Pale the Practice has a weight of history behind it (hence the name), its grown from a stopgap measure to an oppressive beast that learns from previous generations and grows to encompass and control everything, much like practitioners themselves, and will continue to do so as long as its members are complacent. The practice will only change if it is actively fought, deliberately fixed and made to accept the Other (the diverse/minority group in this metaphor).

But these ideas are more than just metaphors. This is something I really like in Pale with Zed. Now I am cis, so obviously take this with a grain of salt, but the way the practice responds to a trans person, demanding he conform to the identity presented in his awakening and engaging with the struggle of being trans in a system that wasn't built to accept you, seems like a more sincere engagement with the trans experience than a magic a potion that changes your sex to match your gender, although from what @felonytaxevasion said it might also come down to weather or not you want escapism in your story or not.

But this gets into another part I want to talk about witch is the people of the practice. Being a practitioner, means willing participating in a system of exploitation and abuse, a system you strengthen just by signing up. Its not something you are, its something you do. I want to compare two other books to Pact and Pale to explore some ideas.

The first is "magic for liars" in it mages are something you are born as and when asked why mages didn't stop Hitler they say mage law and never bring it up again. In comparison in Pact and Pale practitioners fought in WW2 with Jude's great grandfather and Aimon Behaim getting injured fighting enemy practitioners. More than that practitioners have philosophy, from whole books on the philosophy of a discipline like Diabolism to the textbooks in Pale that (purposefully) read like they were written by someone who believes in the white mans burden. There s the weight of an ugly history to the Practice that makes it feel more real than other books.

I'm not sure what the thrust of this is but I really like Pact and Pale's magic systems and I love practioners in a strange way, there existence is like heartwarming but bad, a tragedy, but one of the status quo not disaster and i find that really compelling.

[acaciapines]

Aww, thank you! It was a lot of fun to put together.

I think you hit the nail on the head for a lot of this stuff--honestly, even if you do break it down from picking based on symbolism vs animal behavior, I think the numbers would still skew mammal-and-bird, if only because culture skews that way, and the non-mammal-or-bird crew tend to have more negative perceptive in culture. (Think snakes, cockroaches.) Not to say EVERY animal falls that way, but we've got a lot more symbolism out there that's accessible for animals like humans than those unlike.

And ditto for behavioral--I've also noticed how little information there is out there on some groups. It makes calling a form a lot harder when you might have like, three sentences of useful information on a lizard, vs. an entire culture built up around dogs.

Which, speaking of....

I actually think I did do a similar breakdown about just dog-daemons but that was years ago so I'm not sure what I said then. But these days I actually find the over-representation of dogs really fun for much the same reasons you mentioned--there's hundreds of dog breeds, and as species humans and dogs have very much grown up together. It's why as I've written more daemonfic I've sort of found it really fun to actually use these statistics--over-representation of mammals, lots of canines and felines--as a way to figure out the biases of a society with daemons.

Ergo, stuff like my fic in which all daemons are dogs. It's a really fun way to break down both fake made up societies but also the one we live in today--even without daemons animals appear in countless forms across culture. It's stuff like, I don't know, being pescetarian? Obviously people choose their diets for a wide variety of reasons, but I've always been fascinated by people who choose not to eat pigs, cows, chickens, etc, for animal welfare reasons, but will still eat fish. There's differences in how all these animals are farmed of course, but fish are so unlike us that it's a lot easier to not, like, "feel bad" that they're killed for our consumption. Same idea as how a lot of people wouldn't feel as bad about killing a gnat, than a very pretty or flashy beetle, than a squirrel, than a stray dog--there's this "hierarchy" of what animals are closer to humans and thus humans are more likely to pity.

Plus there's just a lot less research that's been done into fish cognition, and the stuff that has been done is a lot less known than that on, say, pigs.

All of this to say that I think daemon-forms tend to reflect this: it is people in our world who choose them. What resources do they have access to? What animals are present in society and culture? What animals are worlds built for? In my own writing I've noticed that some animals interact in the world in ways so unlike my own I struggle to write them, but, like, pretty much everyone has seen a dog, or a bird, and it's much easier to figure out how they might interact with the world we live in today.

I think that's why there aren't so many, say, elephant-daemons, even though I feel like elephants are pretty widely loved--trying to figure out how to write an elephant existing in the world pretty much makes the story about this elephant trying to live in a world not made for them, you know? And that can distract if someone just wants to sit down and have fun writing about what animals might represent their favorite characters, so they'll bypass elephant for something much smaller. Society is already pretty much built for dogs, or, you don't have to alter much to do so.

And in regards to resources, again you're so right with the number of dog breeds--there are so many of them, that it's really easy to get lost in the weeds, I think. To spend hours finding the perfect dog breeds for five characters, when you could just as easily spread those five characters across five different classes of animal. There's something...alluring, about dogs, I think. About how specifically narrow they can get, how much information is out there.

Some of my own more obscure daemon-forms are pinned down from the like, single study that was done into the behavior of this particular lizard species that the researchers were barely able to see. I know for a fact there is a dog I could've given this character, you know? And there'd probably even be more backing for it, when you don't have to extrapolate so much.

And that's...a lot of somewhat connected thoughts. Your response got me thinking, and these are the places my mind wandered.

Daemonfic Statistics: An Analysis

Introduction

It’s a known fact that a lot of people write daemonfic. At the time of me writing this, there are 2830 daemonfics on AO3, when sorting by the tag ‘alternate universe – daemons.’ However, as far as I know, nobody has gone on an in-depth study on what animals are portrayed as daemons, to find out the distribution.

Now, that’s not to say there aren’t some obvious animals that dominate—read any handful of daemonfics and you’ll already be well aware that huh, sure are a lot of canines and felines. But why might that be? Why do some animals dominate, while others are left behind?

Below the cut, I will not only show various charts and graphs of daemonfic data, but explore how these stories are valuable in showing us the role animals play in our world, and our connection to them. Daemons may not exist as physical beings in our world, but that doesn’t mean the animals we choose to represent characters we love can’t say anything about us.

(Also on AO3 here.)

Keep reading

[cannot-decide-on-a-fandom]

Character interactions and dynamics I really wish we got/will get more of in the show:

Max and Will-

Probably one of the most commonly asked for ones because...yeah it's weird we *haven't*. They're in the same friend group, they have a lot more in common than pretty much any other combination (both financially struggling, both with absent/abusive father figures, both clearly have significant self esteem issues, they're 2 of the characters for whom music has been a key motif (SISOSIG being kinda what kept Will sane in the UD and Running Up That Hill saving max) etc), and now they're the 2 characters who have been specifically targeted by the upside down. Plus they're kinda...inverse in many ways too. Will is outwardly very soft spoken and gentle but we have seen when he gets pushed too far he can be feisty and irritated and all that, meanwhile Max outwardly might seem super detached and unapproachable to some people but she's actually super sweet and kind internally. They would balance each other out so much.

Max and Mike-

Come on, these 2 are both polar opposites and exactly the same. They clashed heads so much earlier but are now friends but we haven't actually...*seen* them be friends. Season 2 they were antagonistic, season 3 Mike was mostly about El and thus only started interacting with Max when her and El became friends so again they were negative towards each other, season 4 she had all of 2 scenes with him while awake, one at the basketball game and one in a flashback. I want them to have a friendship that is very much like "I will never stop mocking him but I will also beat the shit out of anyone who crosses his boundaries" from Max and "She is annoying as all hell but I know I would die for her if necessary" from Mike. I need these 2. And I need a combo of Mike, Max and Will because that would be great.

Robin and Mike-

Part of this is Maya saying *she* wants more scenes with Finn, but also because I think it would just be good for Mike to spend time with her. She's almost too open with how she thinks and Mike kinda seems to have a bit of trouble with noticing that type of thing with some people. It would be cool to see him interact with someone who just...rambles about her thoughts like she does, would perhaps help understand her somewhat and Mike needs that. Plus Robin having a lack of a filter she might accidentally call out some things and give advice Mike has been needing to acknowledge. Also I feel that Robin would be such a cool figure for Mike with her being multilingual and stuff, I can't help but feel Mike, as a writer, must think that stuff is neat.

Robin and Will-

Surprisingly *not* so much because of their sexualities, though yeah it would be nice for them both, but also because I think that Will is a type of person who likes just listening to people be passionate and excitable as he can be quite quiet himself. I feel like the things that Robin does that some others may find annoying he'd be almost endeared by once he gets used to it. And as for Robin, it would be nice for her to have a person who I guess she feels she can kind of help bring out of his shell around her without worrying too much about coming off as rude since Will like...is barely capable of getting angry.

Steve and Jonathan-

Both of these characters have grown a lot but we haven't actually seen them interact much past season 1 when they were...well, not exactly on good terms. Nancy told Jonathan that Steve has grown a lot and he seemed hesitant about that, I think it would do good for him to see he actually has, and I feel like now that Steve has gone through his character arc, he'd be more understanding of Jonathan himself. Jonathan could see the fact that people like him can grow and change, and Steve could further see how unfair surface level prejudice really is, like he did with Robin in season 3

El and Will-

Despite them being siblings, we haven't actually been shown them together much. Up until season 4 they barely shared a word outside of life or death situations, and then in season 4 they clearly love each other to death and have great chemistry and are family but they were separated for so much of the story it still ended up surprisingly bare bones. I wanna see them just...have heart to hearts and teasing and being siblings together.

Jonathan and El-

Seriously one of my biggest complaints in season 4 was the lack of a relationship between these 2. I genuinely can't remember a single conversation the 2 of them had, I don't even know if there were any. El having a big brother has such great potential, someone who is neither a full authority figure, even a loving one like Joyce or Hopper, nor someone her age who is going through similar life phases as her. Plus both of them are protectors, Jonathan had to protect Will all his life, El felt responsible for protecting everyone. I so wish we saw more of them, or...*any* of them

Will, Lucas, and Dustin-

The only 3 I'm grouping together because every point kind of applies to any combo. They're clearly great friends and would die for each other, but the show has focused so much more on romantic relationships, Will's friendship specifically with Mike, Dustin's mentor type dynamic with Steve and Eddie etc that we don't really see just those 3 or a combination of those 3 spending time together. And I really, really wish we did

There's more but this post is long enough so I'm gonna leave it there. What I'm noticing is my God Will really needs to interact with more characters in the show because how is it that he has one of the weakest shown connections with Max and his literal *sister*? It's not even me loving him, I genuinely think it just makes so little sense it's weird

[epicene-humanoid]

some trans Jeff thoughts:

he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)

he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret

"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition

he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look

he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him

i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.

abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.

abed's predictions:

britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that

shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry

troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more

annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots

peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)

the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it

sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?

YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god

i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)

spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3

i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times. 

like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through). 

either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.

 and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.

OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.

THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode. 

AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.

and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.

another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao

and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3

also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that. 

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous. 

in conclusion:

they’re trans, your honor <3

[cafeacademia]

Love Between the Pages | Chapter 1

Blaise Zabini x Reader

Part summary: When Blaise is forced to attend the book club for a month for being caught up in Draco's bullying of the club, he finally has a chance to get to know the girl he likes, only now he's afraid that she's intimidated by him.

Warnings: Some bullying, Draco being Draco, mostly soft fluff though, lots of shyness

Word count: Approx 2000

Navigation

A/N: Hi loves!! Here's the first part to my first Blaise series!! I hope you all enjoy! If you'd like to be tagged, please click the link on my navigation post which is linked above!! Flash backs indicated with ***

“Detention!”

It was shouted harshly, at the top of her voice, shrill and full of rage as the three Slytherins stood in front of her, each looking decidedly guilty in their own ways. Draco stood up straighter, defiantly crossing his arms as he began to make the whole situation worse by arguing with Madam Pince. “You’re not even a real teacher, you can’t give us detention. My father will hear about this.” But while Draco went on and Theo attempted to appear like he was vaguely threatening next to his best friend, Blaise slowly blocked out the entire exchange, his eyes fixed on someone else, sitting on the other end of the library.

“That’s enough, Mister Malfoy, I will hear no more of this.” Madam Pince shouted. “You’ll all attend the book club as your punishment.” She asserted. “Book club?” He scoffed, “It’s hardly that bad.” “For a month.” Madam Pince interrupted him, making Draco and Theo look at her as if she’d grown an extra appendage. “A month?” Draco glowered, seething with anger.

But all while this was going on, Blaise had barely paid attention. He’d heard what she had said of course, but he was too distracted by a little Ravenclaw, sitting at the other end of the library. “Do you hear this, Zabini?” Draco asked, nudging his friend, the Slytherin boy quietly nodding and attempting to seem undistracted.

Why had Draco dragged him into this mess in the first place? All Blaise had been interested in was the pretty Ravenclaw he saw so often between the library bookshelves and somehow he’d been pulled into something so utterly stupid.

***

“What are you doing?” Draco asked, snatching the book out of Blaise’s hand. “Isn’t it obvious?” Blaise asked, raising a brow in annoyance as he took the book back from Draco and carefully pressed it against his chest. “You’re reading muggle novels.” “And?” “It’s for the mudbloods and blood traitors.” Draco spat. “And that’s why you’re not a Ravenclaw.” Blaise rolled his eyes. “You think this stuff is good?” Draco sounded genuinely confused. “They seem to.” Blaise nodded his head up towards the group that sat around a table, enjoying books together.

Draco glanced over at the group and while he didn’t know who they were, Blaise did. He’d seen you with your little book club in the library every week, but more specifically, he’d seen you in the library nearly every single day. If you weren’t studying, you were reading and enjoying a good book and judging by the books he had seen you with, you seemed to have a wide interest in a lot of different subjects and genres. Blaise was absolutely fascinated by you.

“Half of them are mudbloods.” Draco rolled his eyes. Blaise wanted to protest, he really did, but he knew it would cause more drama than it was worse by attempting to put Draco in his place. I was nearly always messy. “Let’s distract them a little, shall we?” Draco asked as he fished about in his robes for something he’d kept in his pocket just for the right occasion.

And that was when Blaise had been dragged into Draco’s shenanigans of throwing mini fireworks onto the book club’s table, Theo jumping in to laugh at them as they shrieked and scattered. But Blaise hadn’t laughed. He stood there, feeling like an idiot and an asshole, because you looked over at them with your book clutched protectively to your chest, a startled look in your eyes as you met his gaze. Fuck. Blaise was sure that whatever chance he had of ever speaking to you now was completely gone, especially as you gave him one last look before Neville Longbottom carefully tugged you and some of your group between the bookshelves.

***

“This is ridiculous.” Draco grumbled to himself as he entered the library the next afternoon, Blaise and Theo walking in behind him. Blaise looked up, searching the library for the little book club, his hands shoved in his trouser pockets in an attempt to seem relaxed, when really he felt rather pissed off. Stupid Malfoy and his stupid prejudice.

“Is this Madam Pince’s way of punishing them or us?” Hermione scoffed as she clocked the trio entering the library. Glancing over at Cho and Ginny, the pair gave you similar looks of discontent about the mere idea of having to spend just over an hour doing something you normally all found fun with a group of people that had just attacked your book club with mini fireworks. It seemed utterly backwards. “It feels like the latter.” Ginny muttered as the trio approached the table.

Discomfort settled over you, of course the three Slytherins intimidated you, you were shy and quiet and had never really spoken to them other than the odd interaction in class, and it didn’t help that Crabbe had made a point out of bullying you for being a muggleborn-know-it-all not long ago purely because of your blood status and house.

But while all three of the boys did intimidate you, there was something a little more intriguing about the tallest of the three. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that Blaise had at least somewhat of an interest in observing you and while others may find it uncomfortable, his gaze was not intimidating or offputting. In fact he seemed almost fascinated and you felt that the way he looked at you was warmer, much more than the way Draco did. But as you glanced up, only to catch his eyes and immediately look away out of shyness, you remembered that perhaps he wasn’t worth giving the time of day to. He had, afterall, been involved when Draco and Theo had thrown mini fireworks at your group the previous day and you didn’t recall ever seeing him trying to stop them.

But despite the way that Draco and Hermione clashed and the warning looks the boys got from Ginny while you scoured the shelves for a book to read, you slowly relaxed even with the initially unwelcome presence of the Slytherin boys.

Slowly as you began to explore the shelves, your fingers trailing over the spines of the books, discovering which title you might like to pick up this time for this week’s read, you gently pulled out an old copy of Jane Eyre. You weren’t expecting when you pulled the book off the shelf, to meet the eyes of Blaise Zabini, who stood, leaning back against the far bookshelf as he skimmed through the book in his hands, his eyes meeting yours only for a moment. You froze as soon as you saw his eyes on yours, feeling warmth blossom in your cheeks at the way he studied you calmly, his gaze gentle and soft as he looked at you, giving you the faintest hint of a smile before he looked back down at his book.

Blaise felt awful. You had looked so startled when he’d caught your eye through the bookshelves and he wondered if he intimidated you. He decided he couldn’t blame you if you were intimidated by him, he was friends with a group that were prone to picking on everyone. That combined with how shy you obviously were meant you were unlikely to approach anyone you weren’t comfortable with and Blaise felt even worse about the whole situation. What if you thought he was targeting you? Blaise knew he hasn’t exactly been subtle the times he had been gazing over at you on those afternoons in the library, those soft Thursday afternoons when the sun was in it’s golden hour, sending the most gentle and soft glow of warmth through the wobbled glass windows, casting a beautiful haze over you.

Blaise just hoped that attending the book club with you wasn’t enough to make you want to never speak to him full stop.

It was difficult for Blaise to admit though, that he was almost disappointed when the meeting ended, although he’d had quite enough of Granger and Malfoy’s hushed squabbling at one of the tables that Blaise had almost wanted to throw his book at them, though he wasn’t sure it was worth throwing his copy of Anne of Green Gables at them both.

But as he packed his borrowed book into his school bag, he caught you looking over at him from where you had been standing, a curious little look about you as you observed him, though you were quick to look away, a look of embarrassment on your features when you had seen he had noticed you before you began to walk away. “Wait a moment.” Blaise blurted it out as he quickly stepped into your pathway, startling you as you bumped into his chest and stumbled back a little, barely able to look up at him. “Merlin, I’m sorry.” He muttered, scared to touch you in case you didn’t want him to. “I just wanted to apologise for what happened yesterday, Malfoy was being a right git and I should have stopped him. I didn’t want to see you scared- your club scared.” He struggled to get it all out. While Blaise was confident, he was not the most chatty himself and apologising was not something he often found himself doing. Looking up at him, a little surprised at his apology, you just managed to look into his eyes for a moment before you focused back on the Slytherin green of his robe lining that was draped around his shoulders.

“Zabini, hurry up.” Theo drawled out as he leaned around the doorway to the library, Madam Pince shushing him as he lingered around the entrance. Blaise glanced over his shoulder at the boy dramatically leaning against the doorway before he turned back to you. “It’s alright.” You replied softly, a lot quieter than perhaps you had intended. You couldn’t hide your flustered reaction when you saw Blaise smile at the sound of your voice, his eyes lighting up and softening as he idly adjusted the bag on his shoulder. “I know the others are not interested in books but-.” “Blaaaiiise” Theo dragged out his name, the Slytherin boy in front of you sighing as he clenched his jaw a little. “Perhaps, would you like to read together?” He asked. Looking up at him, you smiled shyly, feeling rather flustered and giggly at the question, summoning all of your courage to respond to him. “Yes, perhaps.” You replied after a comfortable moment of silence. You wondered if he could tell he made you shy and giddy, or if it came off a little strange, but you supposed he wouldn’t be asking to read with you if he found you that weird.

And as Blaise gave you a quick goodbye, he walked off towards the exit, wearing a stoic face but on the inside, he was absolutely beaming. With three more weeks of the club to attend as punishment, there was plenty of time for you to hopefully warm up to him.

Blaise Taglist (OPEN):

@paintballkid711 @megantje123 @chaotic-fae-queen @slytherinwh0re @frecklesandfirecrackers @starofthedawn @mingyuahjumma @dracosaccount @90smalfoy @fuckingdraco @loving-life-my-way @cpetrova @miraclesoflove @struggling-bee @weasleywhore @little-me205 @dreaming-about-fanfictions @eli-malfoy-asf @ur-local-reality-shifter

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 04 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

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{Vikings Masterlist}

×

Fit For a Princess

You're listening to the chattering between Aslaug and Helga, looking at pieces of jewelry at the market place. You say something every now and then, but you can't shake away Ivar's stare. On the last days, two weeks or so, he's right there, sitting across from you on every meal, eyes burning through you. Hvitserk said he's studying you, still expecting you to snap, to decide you had enough of all this and want to go back home. To Wessex, where your older brother now rules. And Ragnar already said he'd take you back if you wanted, so there's that.

But leaving Kattegat hasn't even crossed your mind, not before and not now. How could you trade all you have here, and slide back into the invisible chains you had on? It wouldn't be just stupid, it would be the death of you. You're finally understanding who you are, the things you like, the kind of people you like. In England, you had to play a specific role, because everything was political. Here, you're just who you are. And you do what you want to do. This is true freedom.

“I really like this one,” Helga says, as your eyes wander through the many rings, earrings, and necklaces. “I'd like those two as well.” She continues as you pace around, further away from both women, turning the corner and then walking to another store. The pieces they have here are all made of metal, delicately bent into beautiful shapes. You caress a bracelet with the tip of your fingers, wondering if it'd look good on you.

“Don't waste your time with these cheap things.” The voice, that you now recognize immediately, makes you turn around. Ivar comes from among the people, only stopping when he's standing next to you.

But despite his attention being on the jewelry, your eyes are on him. “You're tall.” It comes out suddenly, because he never stood beside you like this, so you couldn't have noticed.

“Well, you're tiny.” Ivar glances at you, playing with one of the rings. “Anyway, you shouldn't be looking at these things. They won't suit you very well.”

Giving the old man an apologetic look, you randomly pick a bracelet. You don't get why Ivar is being rude, but, judging by what Hvitserk had told you, his brother isn't one to hold back. He says what he thinks, it doesn't matter how mean it may sound to others. You're still trying to figure out if this level of brutal honesty is good or bad. “I really like this one.” Searching on the small bag attached to your dress, you take four coins, way more than what the bracelet is worth, handing it over to the man and putting the bracelet on. The silver color is beautiful, and the drawings carved on it remind you of the pattern you saw on one of the boats that brought you here.

Ivar rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, sighing. “You are such a kind princess.” Dropping the ring, he starts walking side by side with you when you set in motion through the market. You weren't expecting that.

“King Ecbert was king of Wessex. This isn't Wessex.”

“(Y/N)! Wait for us.” Aslaug calls and you stop, giving her a look and a nod before turning to face Ivar, who towers over you.

“Therefore, I'm not a princess anymore.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give him a small smile.

“That's a shame, isn't it?” He lowers his voice, leaning closer.

“Not really.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give a little step back, putting a strand of hair behind your ears before giving him a little wave, walking back to where both women are.

After they're done shopping, as you walk back home, the clouds push themselves apart just enough for the sunlight to appear. That makes you stop, taking in the warmth on your skin, but it soon disappears.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Hvitserk calls, coming from the beach with his father, Ubbe and Bjorn, who's walking behind them. “We're going to meet some traders. Wanna come?”

“Why not?” You mumble, elbowing Hvitserk when he's close enough.

“Go put on some pants then. We're riding there.”

“Oh.” It's so absurd it's stupid, how you can't seem to do the simple things people know by heart here. “I'm not very good at riding.” Whispering, you tell him, not wanting anyone else to listen.

“I'll help you out.” He nods, tilting his head to where Bjorn is. “Without cracking your head open in the process.”

Smiling you nod before heading inside to change out of the dress. You're just about to head out when Aslaug tells you to grab a cloak in case it rains later, so you have to make another trip to your room. But soon enough you meet Hvitserk and the others again, reading the horses.

“Which one is mine?”

“Over here.” Hviserk guides to a beautiful white horse. “Give me your leg.” He says, and for a moment you furrow your eyebrows, but soon enough you understand what he means. Raising your leg, Hvitserk grabs your calf and you push yourself up, successfully mounting on the horse with his help. It feels funny to be this tall. You have ridden before, but most of the time you used a carriage. There was no need for a princess to ride on the back of a horse at Wessex. It's wild though, and you've grown to love wild things. “Keep your feet like this on the stirrups at all times. Don't put of your feet all the way in or it might get stuck if you fall. If you touch her with your ankles, she'll move forward. Pull the halters and she'll stop. The same thing goes to pull her left or right, but since we'll ride together she'll just follow the other horses.”

“Got it.”

“Your ass might hurt at the end of the day, so be prepared.” He warns before jumping to the back of his horse. “If it'll help you feel more steady, you can hold on the saddle, but trust me, you'll get the hang of it once you lose the fear of falling.”

“Have you ever fallen from a horse before?” As you speak, the small group starts moving, and your mare does the same, keeping their pace, slow at first until everyone starts galloping, and all air leaves your lungs. You hold tightly to the saddle, scared at first, but you remember what Hvitserk just told you. If you let the fear of falling win, you'll never learn to ride properly, and you'll never enjoy it. Slowly, you let go of the saddle, holding only on the halters, making sure it's loose so she'll feel free to run.

And the sensation is amazing. The wind makes your hair whip your face over and over, and you lightly shake your head to get rid of it. Glancing at Hvitserk, you mirror his position, a smile creeping over your lips. The landscape, green, blue, and gray, passes by in a blur, and you try to take it all in. It's beautiful, breathtaking. Almost literally, because when you finally stop, you're struggling to catch your breath.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” You answer, and Hvitserk nods before moving to stand next to his father and brother. You see a small troop approaching, riding up the hill.

“You're quite good at this,” Bjorn says, guiding his horse away from his siblings and near you. “A few more lessons you'll be riding like a true Viking.”

“I really like it. Its... Thrilling.” You're finally calming down, and your thighs ache a little bit.

“Wanna see the traders coming?” Turning his horse around, he gestures at a cliff, not too many miles away. “We could go up there, it'll give us a nice view.”

“Isn't it a little high?”

“The horses are used to it. C'mon.” Without waiting for your answer, he starts galloping away.

Glancing at Hvitserk, you hold the halter tightly to keep the mare from moving. “You think I should?”

“Sure, it has a nice view. But if you feel like the trail there is too much you come back here, alright? The horses are used to it but you're not.”

“Alright.” Touching the mare with your ankles, you loose the halter and she immediately moves, following Bjorn's horse. It doesn't take much until you're deep inside the woods, the horses now trotting. Bjorn keeps silent, giving you a few glances since you're slightly behind him.

“That way.” He says, and you just let your ride follow his. The smooth ground soon starts changing, with more rocks, and becomes unravel. When you see a steep slope, with apparently nothing to hold on to, you pull the halters, making the mare stop.

“I think it's too craggy.” You speak up, getting Bjorn's attention. “I don't want to fall on my first try.”

“She's used to this kind of inclination. You'll be fine.”

Considering it and also what Hvitserk said, you decide to leave the cliff viewing for another day, when you feel more secure on the horse. “I think I'll pass, Bjorn. Maybe another cliff where I can go on foot.”

“Don't be a pussy. It's not that craggy.” Then, he kicks his horse hard and it sets in motion. It doesn't surprise you, but when the mare moves as well, following him, you're startled, and in the sudden change, you let the halter fall.

Holding on the sell, you can only watch as Bjorn's horse easily climbs the slope, at a fast pace, and yours do the same. But when it suddenly turns left, around a huge rock, you lose your balance, and since there's nothing to hold on to, both your feet escape the stirrups, and you're pulled to the ground hard. Losing your breath, a sting on your ankle makes you yelp as you roll down the slope, only stopping once the ground is flat again. Rolling on your back, you take deep breaths, trying not to move the left leg since the pain is spreading through your foot and calf. “Damn it!” You exclaim, removing the hair from your face.

“(Y/N)!” It takes only a few seconds until you see Bjorn kneeling by your side. “Are you alright?”

“I just fell from a horse and rolled down a hill!” You speak fast, the pain on your back making itself aware. “Of course I'm not fine!”

“Let me take you–” He says as he starts to pull you up.

“No.” You cut him off, slapping his hands away. Bjorn has done enough for today. If he wasn't trying to be a freaking show-off, this wouldn't have happened. “Go get–”

“(Y/N)?” You hear his voice and breathes out relief. “I heard a yell.”

“Over here. Lying on the ground.” Annoyed, you cover your eyes with both hands. “Can you please see if my ankle is broken?”

“What happened?” He asks in a low voice, and you uncover your eyes to see him jumping to the ground, kneeling next to your stretched out leg.

“Bjorn made his horse bolt up the slope and mine followed.” You explain, giving him a hard glance, groaning when Hvitserk lifts your leg to remove your boot. “Easy there!”

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “But calm down, it's not broken, just sprained.”

“Shit.” Taking a deep breath, you sit up taking off the other boot as well and throwing it at Bjorn. “You can't keep yourself from getting me hurt, can you?”

“Me? Everything you had to do was hold on. The horse–”

“I'm not a Viking!” Bursting out, you look up at him. “I'm not some shieldmaiden, I'm still trying to fit in here and learn things. You can't expect me to follow your pace.”

“I just–”

“Bjorn, you should get back. Help father with the traders, I'll take her back to Kattegat.” Hvitserk interrupts him, and Bjorn leaves after a grunt, saying something you couldn't understand.

“And he thinks he has the right to be pissed!” Lying back down, you groan. “I think this is a sign to stay away from him. Every time he's in the situation, I get hurt.”

“Alright, c'mon.” Hvitserk pulls your arm until you're seated again. “You need to put some ice on this ankle, let's go.” Hvitserk takes your mare first, tying her up with his horse before mounting and pulling you up to ride with him.

Despite the slow pace he keeps, your back still hurts. Resting your head on his back, you sigh. “Why are you so quiet?” You ask after a while.

“I'm thinking about the right words to tell this to mother. She won't be happy.” He answers, a hand resting on his thigh as the other holds the halter. “She's not very fond of Bjorn already.”

“It was partially my fault too, I think. I let the halter slip and had nothing to hold on to.”

“You're know Bjorn likes you, right?” Hvitserk suddenly says, and you pinch your eyebrows together. This thought hasn't crossed your mind. “That's probably why he did that. That's how he... Gets a woman's attention.”

“Would you do the kindness of telling him it's not working?” Muttering, you rest both your arms on his back folding them as if his shoulders were a table. “Actually, I've been meaning to tell you... I met Ivar at the market place today.”

“...And?” He asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Nothing, just... It was nothing, really.” It's hard to understand exactly what you want to tell Hvitserk. You just can't seem to put your feelings or thoughts together. “I was looking at these things and he said they wouldn't suit me.” Stretching out your arm, you show him the bracelet. “I bought this there.”

“That's nice. But cheap.” Rolling your eyes, you remember Ivar said pretty much the same thing.

“He also said I'm kind. But that was probably in a mocking tone, so...” You get into Kattegat, and Hvitserk greets some people. “I don't know.”

“I believe it's safe to assume Ivar doesn't hate you.” Hvitserk slows down the horse when a group of kids run by. “If he did, he wouldn't put himself on your way like that... Or look at you the way he does.”

“And how does he look at me?” The words come out slowly because you're not sure if you want to know.

“The only thing I can say for sure is that he never looked at a woman like that.” You finally get to Ragnar's house, and Hvitserk asks a man to help you down. Once you're safe on the ground, he jumps off, telling the man to take the horses. “And I mean it in a good way.”

He puts a hand around your waist, helping as you jump on the right foot until the table in the main hall. “Do you think he–”

“What happened this time?” Aslaug asks, her voice already giving out that she's not happy.

“Twisted ankle. She fell from the horse.”

“Take her to her room, Hvitserk.” The Queen mutters, saying something to the girls who were following her. “And carry her this time if that isn't too much to ask.”

“Alright.” He replies, picking you up with a hand on the small of your back and another under your legs, quickly finding the way to your chambers.

Giggling, you give him a look “I love when your mother–”

“Careful with the teasing this time. I might just drop you to the floor and I don't care if your a princess who fell off a horse.” The fake angry tone makes you laugh again.

“My bad, Prince Hvitserk.” You snap back, rolling your eyes.

Aslaug has her maids help you bathe first, cleaning the dirt that is attached to your face and hair before lying you on the bed again and applying a piece of fabric with cold water on your ankle, keeping it elevated with some pillows. She isn't happy to know the whole story, despite you assuring her it's alright now. You could've died, she said, breaking your neck. But it's useless to worry about what could've happened. The best thing to do now is to focus on the ankle, which she said will be better in a few days, and let the whole incident go.

Later that night, you give little jumps to the main hall to eat something. It's just Ubbe and Bjorn, seated on a table at the corner. Nodding at them, not wanting to chat with Bjorn at the moment, you sit at the edge of the table in the middle, your back turned at both men, taking the jar and pouring yourself something to drink.

“How's your ankle?” Ubbe asks, and you look over your shoulder.

“It's fine. I'll be able to walk normally in a few days. But my back still hurts.” Completely ignoring Bjorn's existence, you turn away from them again.

Drumming your fingers on the table, you wait for the Queen's maids to bring your meal. When you feel someone moving behind your back, you assume it's them, and place your cup further away to open some space. But instead of the bowl with rabbit stew, a necklace is put down before you. And it's absolutely beautiful, with three blue stones surrounded by a golden metal, delicately molded around it. It's different from anything you've ever seen in Wessex. Taking it in your hands, you see Ivar dropping to the seat next to you, and you turn to look at him.

“What is it?” You ask, unable to hide the smile that comes to your lips.

“A necklace.” He simply says, and you roll your eyes at his tone. What a way to ruin the mood.

“Yeah, I noticed.” The smile slowly drops as your eyes go back to the piece, fingertips caressing one of the stones.

“This was made for a princess. Not those cheap things.” He gestures at your bracelet, and you giggle.

“Well, this is absolutely beautiful.” Glancing at him, you find he was already staring. “Is it for me?” You inquire in a lower voice, not wanting to make any assumptions that might embarrass you.

Ivar nods, lightly pushing your shoulder. “Turn around. Let me put it on.”

Doing as he says, you turn your back at him. Ivar takes the necklace and places it around your neck, and you hold your hair up so he can close it on the back. Once he's done, you let the hair fall before turning to face him, folding your left leg and carefully laying the wounded ankle on the bench between you and Ivar. “How does it look?”

You wait for an answer, but it doesn't come. Ivar's eyes were fixed on the necklace, but slowly, they come to meet yours. Tilting your head to the side a little, you feel heat spreading through your cheeks.

Shaking your head lightly and looking down, you take a deep breath. “Have you heard that I fell from a horse this afternoon?” You're glad you got your brain to function, changing the subject. “Twisted my ankle.”

Ivar's stare falls to your bare feet on the bench, the skirt of your dress pulled up to your knee. “Mother told me it was someone else's doing.” As he speaks, Ivar gives an angry stare at where his two brothers are, and it's obvious who he's looking at. “But I think you'll survive.” You feel his fingers caressing your skin, from your knee and down through your calf, so softly you wonder if he's really touching you.

“I will.” You assure him, biting back a smile.

“Ivar,” Ragnar calls, and it does take a while until you both look at where he's standing, near the thrones. “Your mother wants to speak with you.”

“What now?” He asks, annoyed.

“I don't know. Go ask her.” And he disappears.

“Guess I'll have to go.” He glances at you, grabbing the clutch.

But before he can push himself up, you grab his arm. Perhaps you shouldn't do it. Perhaps this whole thing is just some kind of joke he's pulling on you, but still, the necklace is beautiful and he was... Kind. So you lean closer to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for the gift. It's very beautiful.”

Ivar is frozen, even after you let go of his arm. He stands there, blue eyes locked on yours. Slowly, painfully slow, a smile comes to his lips. And it feels different. True, genuine. “You're welcome, princess.” He whispers before pushing himself up to his feet and walking away.

You're still a little dazed when the rabbit stew comes, and you can do nothing but play with the spoon. But heavy footsteps get your attention, and when you look at your side, you catch a glimpse of a very angry Bjorn disappearing inside.

He saw everything. And it takes you by surprise to notice that, the moment you laid eyes on Ivar, you immediately forgot Bjorn and Ubbe were here. Everything just... Faded away, and there was nothing else, just you and him. And this is not the first time it happens.

×

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla @anotherfan07

[catzula]

always there to help

Synopsis: You suck at math, and who could be better suited for the job to help you, other than your brother's best friend, the born genius, Bakugou?

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x (Kirishima's sister)Reader

Warnings: Swearing, maybe some bad writing

A/N: So, I'm back! I'm sorry I haven't been writing anything lately, I just didn’t like anything I wrote, so, sorry about that. This one might seem a little all over the place too lol, but it’s because I inteded it to be a small drabble. but accidentally made it a 5.1k fic. So, it might not be one f my better works, but I had a lot of fun writing it!

BY THE WAY, 100 followers guys! Thank you so much for that!

You were working on your homework when you heard the doorbell. You sighed deeply, standing up and going to the door, not expecting to see your brother and his friend group to be standing on the other side.

One specific friend caught your eye, his spiky, ash blonde hair hard to miss. You could feel your heartbeat rising almost instantly, cheeks now a bit warmer than before. You wished you had worn something else, anything but pajama shorts and an oversize shirt, maybe combed your hair and wore perfume or something, but how could you know your brother was going to bring his friends home? 

Okay, maybe you should have known since they were over almost every day.

But since there was nothing you could do now to change the situation, you just smiled, inviting them in -you noticed how Bakugou hadn't even glanced your way once, and though this wasn't different then always, it proceed to hurt and disappoint you every time. It's not like you were expecting for him to have feelings for you or something, but at least noticing you were there would be nice for a change.

Your brother was the last to enter, hugging you so tightly that you couldn't breathe for a few seconds, squirming between his arms. "Eiji lemme go!" You screamed, though your voice muffled by his tight hold. 

"Sorry, just missed you." He told you, letting you free. A cheeky, innocent grin was on his face, the one he knew that made you soft. You answered by a "Hmph," turning to his friends, who were already in the living room, doing their things. Mina was the first to notice you when you entered the room, the cutest smile on her face. "Oh, hey Y/N!" She caught you by the wrist, pulling you to the couch to sit with her. Of course, Bakugou was right next to you.

Feeling self-conscious -when was the last time you had a shower? Yesterday? You could only pray you smelled nice- you scooted a bit more to Mina, putting some distance between Bakugou and you, though it pained you to do so since he smelled like caramel. Honestly, why did he smell this good? It only caused your thoughts to be fuzzier, and for you to be even more excited around him. 

Though he seemed to have noticed your shift towards Mina since he sent a small glance your way, a 'tch' sound coming out of his lips, heating your cheeks.

"Hi, Mina-san." You mumbled, trying to forget the boy -your big brother's best friend- sitting next to you. "Oh, y/n-chan, I told you many times, you can just call me Mina! We only have a year between us anyway." You nodded, though still feeling a bit uneasy. “Sure.”

"I- I should go now, I have to finish my math homework." You told them with an apologetic smile, Mina and Kaminari pouting almost immediately. "Oh, come on, sit with us for a bit," Denki protested, his eyes wandering on your bare legs for a second, earning a deadly glare from your brother and a nudge from Sero. 

"What homework?" Your brother asked you, coming closer to you to block Denki's view. "Oh, you know, the one I was doing this morning." You shrugged, you've been working on the same sheet of paper practically the whole day, but you just didn't know the subject even a little bit, staring at the paper without knowing nothing didn't help much.

"Wait, you still didn't finish that? I thought I helped you yesterday." He pouted. Yes, he did try to help you, but you were sure he also had no idea how to do it, and he had just repeated the question to you again and again, until you had said, "Ah, I understand it now! Thank you, brother," without being able to do anything. You knew he meant good, but it still didn't change the fact that your brother was as clueless as you were.

"I-" You had started to say something before a deeper voice intruded yours. "Oi, shitty-hair, you know you suck at math, how do you think you could even help her?" 

Your eyes shifted to Bakugou -you couldn't help but giggle at the nickname he had for your brother, oh, you had to remember that one- he had an annoyed look in his ruby eyes, his eyes not leaving your brother once. "Well, I-" Eiji had started to talk, his eyes widening slightly after, understanding what Bakugou meant. "Oh, you should have told me!"

You shrugged. "Well, you just looked so happy finally being able to help me with something, I didn't want to make you feel bad." 

Oh no, did that come out wrong? You were about to apologize when your brother pulled you in a hug once again. "Oh my god- lemme go!"

***

"So -uhh- if you do it this way, you can, maybe?.. No, okay, I got it, so if you add this to... Nope, that's wrong- umm, oh, how about-" 

Mina bit the back of the pencil you had given her, fully concentrated on the papers in front of her. "Oh move over, I can help her!" Denki told her as he pushed Mina aside.

"You?" She told him in disbelief, "Don't make me laugh, you're even worse than I am!" 

"No, I'm not!" The blonde boy answered, pulling the sheet of paper. "Yes, you are," Sero also joined the fight, pushing himself between the two. "Oh, you shut up, you're even worse than him!" Mina pushed Sero with all her might, panting. 

"Umm, what is happening?" You asked your red-headed brother, watching them with a smile and clearly enjoying the show. "Oh, don't worry, this happens all the time." He answered, patting you on the back, giggling when Mina pulled Denki's hair, making the poor boy scream. 

Oh, that makes it all better then. 

"Oi, dumbasses, shut the fuck up before I do it." You jumped in surprise when you heard Bakugou screaming right behind you, and surprisingly, three of the grown-ass people that were just wrestling on the floor froze. 

"Sorry, Baku." Mina was the first to stand up, fixing her disheveled clothes and running a finger through her soft-looking hair. Sero and Kaminari struggled for a second or two more, but one look from Bakugou and they were up on their feet too.

"Well, thanks I guess." You told the people who literally just fought each other to help you, though instead of them, it was Bakugou who answered you. "Whatever, you shouldn't be asking these idiots anyway."

You weren't sure what to say since the gratitude wasn't intended for him, but you smiled awkwardly. "Guess I'll have to ask someone tomorrow."

"Oh, Baku, can't you help her? You always help us and you're the smartest." Eiji perked his head with the idea that suddenly came to his mind.

"Damn right I am!" Bakugou answered without missing a beat, though he realized his mistake almost instantly. "Oh, that's great, then, you can help her." Mina cheered, clapping her hands with a wicked grin on her face, eyeing both you and the now furious looking boy. Bakugou would have said no immediately, but everyone in the room -even you- knew his pride wouldn't let him.

"For fucks sake," he muttered, his hand massaging his temples. "Give me that stupid fucking paper."

***

"Oh, okay, that makes much more sense!" You told him, even though you still had no idea how he did it, but you tried your best to hide the confusion in your face, not wanting to seem dumb in front of him. But it took one look and his burrows furrowed, lips curling into a snarl.

"If you're just acting like you understood I'll fucking-" A fake cough came from your brother's way, making Bakugou growl. "I'll explain it to you again and again until you understand it." He finished his sentence, making both you and Eiji grin.

"So what didn't you understand?"

Good question.

"I- uh... anything?" You could feel your face heating as you answered, causing him to grimace. "Oh my fucking God." He muttered, pinching his nose bridge with annoyance.

"LOOK-" Oh, he was pissed. "THE QUESTION IS TELLING YOU TO DO THIS, SO YOU JUST FUCKING ADD THIS TO THAT, AND-" His spiky hair looked like it was ruffling up when he got angry, like an angry bird, the thought making you giggle. As he heard your giggle he stopped screaming, and seeing him so quiet was somehow scarier than him shouting.

"What the fuck is so funny?" He asked gruffly, though his crimson eyes weren't as angry as they were before. "You know it doesn't help when you just scream everything at me, right?" You giggled again because he looked really confused.

"Okay, look." He sighed, "see this? This actually just means you should do this." His pencil moved on the paper, his writing surprisingly neat and pretty- especially for a boy as impatient and angry like him. "Oi, you listening?" He pointed the pencil to you when he noticed you weren't looking at the paper, but at him.

"Oh- yeah, I'm listening." You answered, looking at what he recently wrote and trying to understand what he probably said. His eyes narrowed, but he didn't question it further. "Good."

"As I just said," he stated -making you grin since he probably noticed you weren't, in fact, listening to him, "you should do it like this and that's the answer." 

You couldn't understand why, but suddenly what he was talking about seemed to make so much sense. "Oh my god." Your eyes widened, looking at the sheet of paper, you pulled the pencil he was holding without thinking much on it, quickly writing down what was on your mind before you forgot.

After you finished writing, you turned your gaze to the boy that was sitting right next to you, though he concealed the amazed look he had sent you almost immediately. "Is that... right?" You asked him, feeling anxious, if it was wrong, you probably would look like an idiot.

"Yeah," he muttered, quickly glancing your way and noticing the smile on your face. "Fucking finally." He added, trying to get you to stop from smiling since he couldn't stop thinking about how pretty it was, though to his surprise you only smiled brighter. He could feel his heartbeat picking up, not sure why. Were you always this pretty? Smiled so softly, that made him feel all warm? Looked at him like this, like he was the most amazing person you've had seen?

For him, you have always been the sister of his best friend. He hadn't the slightest interest on you, though he could feel that was changing, the thought terrifying him. No, you were only and only Kirishima's sister, no one else.

***

"Hey, Bakugou-Kun." Bakugou was taking his jacket off as he entered the house, his caramel scent making you dizzy.

"Hey, idiot." He answered without thinking, the rude nickname slipping from his lips, he pressed them together instantly as if he could un-say it. He looked at you with slightly widened eyes, expecting you to be sad, or get mad at him, though he could have never thought you would giggle instead.

"Yeah," you told him smiling, "guess I deserve that."

"No." A sudden answer came his way, causing you to be the one shocked this time. "I- I didn't mean it that way..." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking very uncomfortable. "I just-"

"It's okay!" You told him, finally ending his misery. "I know you didn't say it to be mean."

Now, that was a first.

"Yeah, whatever." He muttered, entering the room, though regretting it immediately, was that rude? Maybe he shouldn't have stormed out? Did you think he was rude? Mean? An asshole?

He had no idea you were only happy because, for the first time, he had stopped to talk with you instead of ignoring you altogether.

You entered the room, noticing the rest was there too, and you wondered when they even entered the house. "Hey, Y/N!" Denki beamed, though noticing the look Eiji sent him, he quickly corrected himself. "-chan. Y/N-chan."

"Hey, Kaminari-Kun." You answered, making him pout. "Oh come on, you can just call me Denki!" A small glance was sent your brothers way, "Denki-Kun. You can call me Denki-Kun." He corrected, smiling widely.

"Oh, okay." You told him. "Would you like something to drink, Denki-Kun?" You asked, making him grin wickedly. "She's just too cute!" He whisper-yelled, nudging Sero. "Anyone? I can make tea."

"Oh, just sit with us instead!" Mina told you and you did as she said, knowing she would force you anyway. Once again, you were stuck between Bakugou and Mina, though this time you were prepared and had worn perfume. She looked at you excitedly, like she wanted to say something, but before she sent an angry look to Bakugou.

"Hey, Baku, can you go sit with Denki or something? We're gonna talk and you're preventing us."

"Haah?" Bakugou yelled. "I was the first one sitting here! And I'm not fucking preventing you, I'm just fucking sitting here, it's not like I wanna hear the stupid shit you'll talk about."

Oh, but he, did. He was dying to hear what you would talk about.

"It's not stupid shit, its girl talk!" She defended, grinning when Bakugou stood up. "W-what do you want to talk about, Mina?" It took a lot of willpower for you not to say Mina-san. "A little bird told me you have a slight liking to a certain angry boy." She finally told you, waiting at first for a bit of suspense.

"W-what, who?" You blurted, immediately noticing the mistake you did. "I mean, that's not- that's not true!"

"Oh come on, don't try to hide it!" She giggled, nudging you. "I know you have a crush on bskdhdhdh!" You slapped your hand on her mouth just in time, a sigh of relief coming out your mouth when you stopped her from saying the name. Though, you couldn't stop her from screaming about you having a crush.

"You what?!" Eiji screamed, standing up.

"Ooh, our little Y/N-chan has grown so fast," Denki told as he wiped the nonexistent tears off his eyes.

"So, who's the lucky guy?" Sero asked, grinning.

"Oops, I may have made a mistake," Mina said, giggling.

The only one that hadn't said one word was Bakugou, though that was somehow even more uncomfortable. His gaze lingering over you, you felt like you were going to die of embarrassment (and why did he have to wear that black t-shirt? It only made you even more flustered, and you just couldn't help but think about how nice he looked)

"It's nothing." You smiled awkwardly, face heating up. You glanced away, looking at anyone but him. "It's a misunderstanding." A fake giggle and all should be good, right?

Well, apparently not.

"No, don't you try to laugh your way out of this. What is this crush?" He looked so angry, it was one of those rare moments that he looked plain out scary.

"It's an innocent crush, Eiji! Nothing to worry about, okay? Now sit down, I need to do my homework anyway." Eyes narrowing, his gaze stayed on you a little more, though he dropped the subject soon after.

"If anything happens, you'll tell me everything." He told Mina, though it sounded more like a threat.

"It's not my place to do so." She answered, grinning wickedly.

***

You peeped your head from the door, trying to take a look of inside. What were they doing?

You've been doing your homework the past hour or two -it was only 10 minutes, but it felt like an eternity- and you came downstairs to seek help.

"Hi, guys." You finally entered, only to find them all snuggled on the couch, watching the greatest show ever been made, Avatar the Last Airbender.

Eiji knew the consequences of such actions, desperately trying to close the TV, but he was late, you could recognize Uncle Iroh's voice from a mile away.

"How dare you!" You gasped, now feeling all eyes on you.

"Wait, what's going on?" Sero looked as confused as the rest of his friends.

"Eiji, how could you do this to me?" You ignored Sero altogether, eyes fixed on your red-headed brother.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, sis, it's just we had nothing to do and-"

"I can't even see you right now." You told him, turning your back to exit the room, leaving three very confused people after you.

"No, Y/N, wait!"

***

And that's how you found yourself to be snuggled between Bakugou and Denki.

It was really comfortable, you had to admit, but also very maddening. You couldn't even watch the show anymore, your senses filled with the boy sitting right next to you, his body touching yours ever so slightly, his hair tickling your face every time you moved to get a bit more comfortable.

"So you're telling me," Bakugou suddenly spoke up, though your eyes didn't leave the screen, you could feel his ruby eyes on you. "That you have a crush on this guy?"

"She does." Your brother mumbled from the other side of the room. "She even-"

"Shut up, or you won't be able to speak ever again." Everyone in the room suddenly froze, no one able to understand how the hell you just turned in to the most threatening person they ever saw.

"Well, damn, okay." Sero laughed, sending a small glance your way. "I don't know, man," Denki muttered. "Sokka is much better than Zuko. He is a nice dude, everyone likes him, has solid jokes, and is pretty smart. He's kinda like me, actually." 

"Yeah, he is like you!" Mina suddenly cheered. "Except for the being-liked-by-everyone, having nice jokes and being smart parts, of course." 

"Yeah, that's what I'm telling yo- hey!" He exclaimed, making everyone laugh. "If there's anyone that resembles any of these characters, it's Bakugou," Eiji muttered thoughtfully.

"What?" He snarled. Eiji shrugged. “You’re pretty similar to Zuko.”

"Wait, that's very on point!" You told him, causing Bakugou's brows to furrow. "Just think about it, you're very unreasonably angry all the time, keep picking useless fights with everyone, and are very rude!" Mina cheered.

Bakugou would have punched every one of you for even implying something like this, though now the only thing he could think about was if you thought this way too. 

"I- I didn't mean it that way, though." You told them. "He always tries to look so tough from the outside, but he's actually sweet. He tries to act like he doesn't like the gaang or his friends, but in reality, he really likes them. Don't you guys think so too?"

"Now that you put it that way..." Mina muttered, the topic closing and everyone focusing their gazes on the screen once again, though, even though no one realized, a small smile was on Bakugou's lips.

***

After the Avatar marathon, you stood up, about to go upstairs to continue the dreadful math homework when an idea fell upon you. You turned your gaze to the boy, who was sitting on the couch like it was a throne instead. Spiky hair looking softer than usual, you wondered what it would feel like to run your fingers through them. His eyes were closed, and he looked tired. Under the dim light of the small lamp that hung from the ceiling, you were practically in awe of how pretty he was. 

Cheekbones high and defined, a sharp jawline, like it indicated his sharp personality, delicate brows furrowed, buried in thought. 

As if he felt your eyes on him, his eyes snapped open, crimson eyes finding yours. You probably looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, causing him to smirk. "What's your problem?" 

"I- uh, I was wondering if you could help me with... math?" 

"Again?!" That was a valid question, but it wasn't your fault math was too hard!

"It's okay, Y/N-chan, I can help you instead." You heard Denki's voice, a hand wrapping your shoulder, causing you, Eiji and Bakugou to jump in your places. 

"You don't know shit." Bakugou growled, his gaze suddenly predator-like, making Denki wince and pull his hand back. "Don't do me dirty like that, Bakubro," Denki whined. "I'm just trying to help-" His voice suddenly muffled by the hand on his mouth, a hand that belonged to your bother. 

"You come here for a second." Eiji told him threateningly, pulling him out of the room with force. "No- no, Kiri, don't do this to me!" The door closed behind them, though, a muffled scream or two could be heard every once in a while.

Everyone ignoring the whole ordeal, went back to what they were doing. Bakugou turned to you, his eyes on the sheet of paper you were holding. "So, does this mean you're helping me?" 

Bakugou knew the second you turned to him with that pleading look in your eyes, he was already going to say yes. "Tch," he rolled his eyes, pulling the paper from your hands. "Whatever."

This time, he sat a bit closer to you. 

You sat side by side, arms almost touching whenever he wrote something. "Did you understand this one?" He asked, the pencil he was holding pointing to the second question. Surprisingly, you did understand it. When you nodded, he smiled, it wasn't one of those cocky smirks, this one was a genuine, small smile that took your breath away. 

"Then do this one yourself." 

You gulped, tearing your eyes away from his face as you felt your face heating up. It took you a bit to get focused on what was in front of you, but you were able to use what Bakugou had explained to you, and eventually reached the answer. 

"That's... That was pretty good." He told you as he inspected what you wrote. This time, it was you who smiled brightly, taking his breath away. He could feel his heart suddenly going crazy, hammering his chest as if it was trying to set itself free. And why did he have this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach? This dreadful but also... warm feeling? 

He didn't like this. He didn't like it at all. 

He stood up, his face suddenly angry, causing your smile to drop. He gritted his teeth when he realized he wanted to sit right back and apologize, to make you smile again. But instead, he picked his phone up from the table and turned his back to you.

He exited the room in a hurry that didn't even let you say anything, or thank him.

"Oi, shitty hair! I'm out." You heard him scream to your brother. 

"So soon?" Eiji asked though the door already shut mid-sentence.

***

Although Bakugou had promised himself that he was going to stay away from you, as far as he could, this thing -whatever this was- went on for weeks. He wanted to stop, Bakugou really tried to not think of you whenever he saw a fucking number, but it didn't take long for him to realize he couldn't.

So instead, he came to see you every day, with or without the Bakusquad and helped you with math even if you didn't ask for him to.

You always asked him to, though.

On the other hand, you weren't thrilled about this whole situation either. At first, this was a normal, innocent crush, but as you spent more time with him, you found yourself falling for him. Hard.

"Hey, Bakugou!" You greeted him (you had dropped calling him Bakugou-Kun sometime, though you weren't really sure when), a big smile that you couldn't drop on your face. "Hey, idiot. I brought this shitty thing you like." 

He meant donuts. 

He didn't want to admit it, but he had only bought it to see the way your eyes sparkled when you held one in your hand, about to take a giant bite out of it. 

The rest of the group was already here and settled, so you checked the paper bag in your hands if it had enough for everyone. You smiled brightly when you noticed it did, making your way to the kitchen.

You noticed Eiji standing, leaning to the door, and watching you both with furrowed brows. "Oh, don't look so mad, I'll give one to you too." You told him giggling, interpreting it wrong. 

His face softened, also smiling. "Don't forget to give me the strawberry one!"

"We'll see about that!!" You answered as you exited the room.

"Oh, Bakugou-Kun, did you buy us the shit we like too?" Sero said mockingly, making the others snicker. "Shut the fuck up, tape face."

"Oh, but Bakugou-Kun-"

"I said, shut the fuck up!" Suddenly his heart was beating really fast. "Relax, Baku, having feelings for someone is nothing to be ashamed of!" Mina told him, though she already knew the answer he was going to give.

"I don't fucking have feelings, dumbass." Bakugou didn't have feelings, especially not towards you, the sister of his best friend. But still, he couldn't take his eyes off of you, he couldn't stop his heart from racing whenever you smiled, and he couldn't stop feeling like he would do anything for you to smile again when you don't.

"Sure you don't," Mina answered, a sly grin on her face when she noticed Bakugou's confused expression. It wasn't that Bakugou didn't want the feelings, he just couldn't understand them.

They would have taken it further if you hadn't entered the room with a plate full of donuts in your hands. "Nobody touches the Nutella one!" You told them, letting them take a donut.

You narrowed your eyes and sent a threatening look when Denki tried to take the one you were going to eat.

"You're not eating?" You asked when you noticed Bakugou not taking one. He shrugged. "I don't like sweets."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "Really? Can I eat yours then?" Bakugou found himself smiling to that, thinking about how adorable you looked with a donut in your hand, a shirt that was too big for you, probably stolen from Eiji and sugar powder smeared on your lips. He couldn't help but wonder, what would you do if he just leaned in and kissed you, right then and there? Would you flinch back? Scream at him? Maybe even be disgusted by him?

He decided he didn't want to lea the answer.

***

"Oh, you're staying late?" You asked with a small smile on your lips, making them look so kissable, Bakugou had to look away. "Yeah." 

"You have homework?" He asked when you didn't say anything. He didn't want you to leave. "Nope, already did them." 

Oh.

"But I kind of wanted to talk to you." You looked nervous, your hands clasped together, anxiously biting your lip. His eyes narrowed, crimson gaze wandering over you like he was trying to read your mind. 

"I have-" You started to say, but stopped mid-sentence so he finished your sentence for you internally. ...feelings for you. 

(You actually had an upcoming math exam, and you were hoping he could help you study for it, but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.)

Oh, he wasn't going to let you be the first to confess, so without thinking about it, Bakugou blurted. "I like you." There it was, he did it before you! But why did you look so shocked?

"You what?" You asked, eyes wide, just staring at him. Bakugou could feel his heart getting heavier by the second, hands turning cold and a dreadful knot forming in the pit of his stomach. Weren't you saying the same thing just then?

"I-" should he just tell you to forget about it? No, he wasn't the kind of man to just back off. "You heard me." He told you gruffly. "I like you." 

Much to his annoyance, you stayed quiet, not giving him the chance to be happy or sad about it. Just silence. "And? What's your answer?!" 

For the first time in this conversation, you looked at him properly. You hadn't noticed how his crimson gaze shined with uncertainty, confusion, and anxiety. He was afraid of your answer, you realized. Even the great Bakugou Katsuki was afraid of rejection. 

So instead of giving him a verbal answer, you leaned in instead, your lips touching his softly. 

His eyes opened wide with the contact, not being able to understand what was going on. Your lips were so soft, it molded perfectly against his, and he was afraid that if he moved even an inch, you would realize you were making a big mistake and pull back. So he froze.

"Bakugou?" You pulled back slightly after a few seconds, making him want to pull you back and never let go. "Won't you kiss me back?" 

To this, Bakugou grinned, his hands suddenly on your back, pulling you towards him. The last thing you remembered before you lost yourself in the kiss was how soft his lips were, and how amazing he smelled.

***

"You know we still have to tell Eiji, right?" You told him, running your fingers through your messed up hair, trying to look like you didn't kiss a boy for the past... well, you weren't sure how long, actually. 

"Yeah." He answered, lips slightly pink. 

"You know, I think I have the perfect idea of how to tell him."

"You do?" He asked, now slightly intrigued. You nodded, standing up. Eiji was in his room, so you pulled Bakugou by the wrists up the stairs. "Come on." You told him when he hesitated. "This will work."

You knocked on your brother's door, opening it just the slightest when you heard him tell you to come in. "Hey, Eiji." 

"Hey, sis." He smiled widely, not aware of Bakugou behind the door. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much." You shrugged, "Just wanted to tell you that Bakugou and I are dating, okay bye!" You shut the door after you without giving him the time to say anything, running down the stairs, and pulling Bakugou after you. 

Your brother opened his door, running after you, his face as red as his hair. "You what?!"

"You idiot!" Bakugou screamed. "So this was your great idea?"

[nightswithkookmin]

JIKOOK DYNAMICS: JIMIN'S LOVE LANGUAGE

PREFACE

In my previous post, I shared my thoughts on what I think is Jikook's love language, specifically Jungkook's; and how in my estimation Jimin is the only member within BTS that speaks it, comes close to speaking it and most importantly makes the effort to speak it.

In this post, I attempt to outline what I think is Jimin's love language and show the various ways I feel JK speaks it or comes close to speaking it more so than the others in BTS.

Now I have to state for the record that I do not know or purport to know Jimin or Jungkook or any of these members herein mentioned in any way special and personal other than through the content we all consume on them.

Nor do I intend to be malicious or disrespectful towards them with this post, to intend to strip away their individuality for the sake of shipping symmetry.

Thus, I reiterate, everything I express in here is my thoughts, my observations and my opinion and I pray you treat it as such.

Let the records show, also that, I will bug spray any fake woke wannabe edgy shipper with a Tuktukker complex that takes my words out of context, misconstrue it to suit their own agenda and then turn around to call me out for it. In the name of Jesus, I will avada kedabra your ass. Seriously.

JIMIN

I've always been fascinated by Jimin. By the person he is. And although I do not have a comprehensive understanding of this man's inner workings, he's got to be the most complex and frankly interesting character I've come across in all my shipping years.

His duality is confusing and coupled with his Libra energy, his character and personality can be and is quite often misconstrued and misinterpreted within the shipping community.

He is friendly, cute, funny, beautiful and ship compatible with anyone.

Very often, I find, most people cannot tell his personality from his idol self slash persona or even his love language from his affectionate nature; thus resulting in these bizzare fallacies and ridiculous assumptions about him such as: he is a flirt, hoe, clingy, homewrecker, attention seeker and a plethora of slurs and sobriquet that's defamatory and slanderous at best- its ridiculous.

I get that not everyone likes him and as such wouldn't hesitate to filter his words and actions through arbitrary metrics to arrive at conclusions that profits them and does nothing but help them make sense of their hate- Y'all don't love yourselves enough.

Not to say he is my bias therefore he is perfect. That would be a blunder. He has his shortcomings, he is human after all. What I'm saying is most people don't get him and as such read him wrong?

What's more discombobulating, is the stan who swears up and down they know Jimin well enough but don't see him treating JK any different from the rest of the boys in BTS therefore Jikook isn't real- insert shook pikachu face.

Then there are those stans with genuine shipping concerns about the love dynamics between the two:

Those that feel JM gives more to JK than he receives back. That he is more supportive of JK than JK is of him. Very often, these people would bring up the issue of JK not promoting Promise when it first came out as evidence of this- it's been years let it go.

JK not being as vocal and open about his feelings and interest in JM the way Jimin is and has been about JK is also another area of concern for these stans. If you try to explain to them its because JK is/was shy they will kick- your- ass. Hell, I will kick your ass too. I'll explain later.

Some people also- I know I have at one point- have described JK's interest in and descriptions of JM as a bit shallow and vain compared to how the other members speak of Jimin.

To them, the other members usually talk about how smart and intelligent JM is, how kind and nurturing he is. How much of himself he gives to them. That the way the members talk about Jimin often helps give us a glimpse into the real Park Jimin as distinct from the persona we see on the screens.

But then there is JK: JM hyung is sexy. He has pretty eyes. 'I want you.' Then he proceeds to drool over the Jibooty, squeeze them legs shut tight while struggling to sit through a Jimin solo dance without popping boners left right left around Jimin- Bless him.

I mean, dude nearly snapped his neck trying to catch a glimpse of the Ji-abs in the middle of a performance? Damn.

To be fair, the other members don't talk like this about Jimin and sexualise Jimin as often as JK does because, they don't want to screw Jimin's brains out? Cough, cough. Hashtag save Jimin from JK. Lol

If JK is sexually attracted to Jimin, how else do you expect him to express that? Never mind that he's done some of these things subconsciously at times. You know what...

Y'all need to give this man a break!

[RANT]

He was a hormonal teen- he is still relatively pretty young. It's ridiculous to expect and demand such high level of maturity from a 16/17 year old experiencing a nonplatonic love for the first time in his life and more so in an unforgiving and invasive environment such as that in which he found himself.

Jk and Jimin found each other before they found themselves and it's unreasonable to think that that didn't have a toll on their relationship dynamics. They are human.

They are each growing and maturing at different paces. Their relationship has suffered through its growing pains; Certainly, one person is going to appear lacking in one or two areas in one way shape or form and at any given point in their love journey. That doesn't make them less real.

Again, their careers and the pursuit of it haven't exactly given them the space, time or normalcy to explore what they are and who they are in a functional way, in my opinion.

Everything is moving fast in their world, everything is highly exaggerated and highly scrutinized. Kpop is not exactly a healthy space to foster a healthy relationship and it would be a miracle if any of them should come out unscathed.

Neither one of them went searching for this love thingy nor were they even experienced enough to look at their relationship beyond the convenience of it and the excitement of it- The orgasms were enough reason for them, I think.

I get uncomfortable when some Jikookers, out of good intentions, claim Jikook knew what they were doing, should have known therefore could have known the consequences of them coupling up in a group like BTS before entering into their relationship- let me stop you right there!

While this assumption may seem like a compliment to them it also perpetuates the adultification of early days Jikook which I find disturbing.

They were teens not grown adults when they fell in love. We can't expect and demand such level of maturity from them at that age as cool as that would have made them.

They don't need to be cool to be real. They don't need to be mature to be real.

Jikook is real regardless of whether they were thoughtful or not thoughtful about the consequences of them choosing to date in a group setting, or a homophobic society at the onset of their relationship.

It's ridiculous to dismiss what they are now on the grounds that S.K is a homophobic society or that dating a coworker is not inconsequential.

People date their coworkers all the time and there are gay couples in S.K.

Jikook were too young to comprehend the consequences of dating because which teen worries about all of that before popping one off for the lord? On which planet, sir/ma'am??Were they thinking with their 'ducks?' I believe so. But again, that doesn't make them any less real.

From what I can tell anyway, 2018 was the year Jikook had anything resembling a serious thoughtful contemplation of the status of their relationship- Well, 2018 and this later half of 2020 as some of you might have already noticed. More on this later.

But yes, this adultification of early days Jikook is absurd and needs to stop. And what's equally disturbing is the infantilization of the adult day Jikook- you can't expect Jikook dynamics to remain the same throughout the years. That's bizzare.

Don't expect them to be their same jeonlous, Jimlous, possessive selves. They are growing. They are evolving as individuals and as a pair.

I side eye the fuck out of these fake woke shippers and 'grown ups' who filter Jikook interactions through adult lens and tag moments like Jimlous and Jeonlous as toxic and unhealthy without taking into context where they were at in their love journey or even their age. What y'all think this is? Fiction? Get the fuck outta here.

Jikook have had to learn and grow on the Job and around their job and learn to love eachother under the scrutiny of severe cameras and weird Ahjummas. Leave them the fuck alone or I swear I will petrify your ass for an entire comeback season. Lol

[Rant over]

All that being said, I get it. The way JK talks about Jimin isn't exactly special or unique from the way the other's speak about Jimin. But it isn't exactly superficial either...

And yes, it's quite unsettling that he doesn't describe Jimin in a way that gives meaningful insight into Jimin's personality as distinct from the others', given as he has exclusive access to Jimin more so than any of the members- we have a lot to unpack today, don't we?

Then on the other hand, there are those who think the exact opposite and see JK as the one who gives more to their relationship. That JK takes their relationship more seriously than Jimin does. They see Jimin as a bit wishy-washy when it comes to his commitment to their relationship- this breaks my heart.

Often, such people will cite Jimin's flirty nature, his lack of boundaries with others amongst other things, to prove their point...

Grab a seat, this discussion is going to be a long one. Smiley face.

JIMIN'S LOVE LANGUAGE

Jimin first got on my alt-ship radar in Rookie King when he was given an opportunity to air any and all of his grievances accumulated over the years against any member or staff of BigHit but instead chose to use that opportunity to talk about JK and how JK's actions had been hurting him.

Prior to this, he was just my bias and I would casually ship him with Suga, V, RM and basically all the members- except JK. I just couldn't ship JK with anyone.

Back then, I had a vague sense of JM's personality but felt I knew enough about him to theorize on his love language and JK was the last person I thought of as capable of meeting those emotional needs of Jimin's.

Rookie King changed my mind.

Jimin wasn't just trying to squash his differences with JK, he was trying to get closer to him. To get emotionally intimate with him- this is one of the things that sparked my interest in their dynamics.

Because it wasn't as if they weren't close. They were. They had a skinship between them. Skinship, or lack of physical boundaries as I like to call it, is one of the means through which BTS achieve intimacy amongst them.

Jikook had that between them at the time, they went everywhere together, woke each other up- they were close.

Yet Jimin felt they weren't close enough. That there was a wall between them. Now, I see a lot of people misinterpret this period in the Jikook timeline as that Jimin was crushing hard on JK. He wasn't. In my opinion.

You see, Jimin was the last person to Join the band. This was bound to have an effect on his relationship dynamics with the rest of the members as he had missed out on two years worth of emotional connection and camaraderie with them.

He had had only one year to bond and get to know the others away from the cameras and in a way that could help him develop a sense of belongingness within the group.

Within this one year, he had school, voice training, and other activities that possibly got in the way of him truly building an intimate connection with the others.

He is the only member out of the seven whose intimacy journey got captured on camera. He had to foster a connection with the others with the cameras around.

But building a connection with people even in a platonic sense is quite an intimate and private process. It takes vulnerability, honesty, a willingness to submit and subject oneself to varying degrees of humiliation, a sacrifice of the self, ego and pride in a way that just strips you naked- metaphorically speaking.

And in Jimin's case, he had to go through this stage and process openly and with the cameras around- the second hand embarrassment I get from watching early days Park Jimin!

He literally had to be the clown of the group, the hufflepuff, the clingy one, the flirty one, the one with the abs, the loud and chatty one as well as all the tasteless epithets people now weaponize against him.

I believe, all he was trying to do at this stage was breach the barriers he felt existed between him and the others as the newcomer of the group so he didn't feel like an outsider.

That is his first love language- the need to belong. He has a strong desire to feel connected with people. He cares about people and connection. He's reiterated this throughout the years and even more loudly in the recent Japan interviews.

He wanted to be part of BTS both physically and emotionally. He wanted to fit in, to belong with them, to be accepted and viewed as one of the boys- BTS.

You could see this in the way he had adopted the mannerisms of the group- the skinship, the love language of the group if you will.

It is why when Suga complained about him not liking him as much, Jimin immediately drew closer to him and wrapped his hands around him, initiating skinship between them to show he liked him.

Jimin tried to speak the groups love language so he could bond with them but he also began to infuse his own love language.

If you've seen his relationship with his father you'd understand that Jimin expresses his love through giving, nurturing etc. It is how his primary care givers showed him love and so how he also shows and conveys his love.

The members have talked about how he would encourage them to talk, to open up, how he would listen to them, be there for them and give them gifts- the birthday gift exchange culture in BTS didn't exist until Jimin arrived in BTS.

What I'm trying to say is, Jimin has a distinct way of showing love that is unique from how everyone else in the group expresses their love. That, there is also an established love parlance within BTS that everyone speaks and that is skinship.

So when Jimin does skinship with any member he is not acting 'clingy' he is just speaking the love language that the group understands. But when Jimin nurtures and acts supportive and what not, he is speaking his own unique love language.

Now I have talked extensively about how Jimin expresses his in my last post so I will be focusing mainly on how he receives loves or what gestures he interprets as love.

And since there is a general consensus that VMin have an emotional connection, I will be referencing their relationship a lot for comparisons sake.

Tae is the only member Jimin got to spend the most time with around predebut without the intrusion of the cameras. This i feel allowed Tae room to strip back and be fully vulnerable with Jimin without reservation as is required of intimacy- which was not the case for Jikook hence JK shying away from interacting with JM in front of the cameras.

Jikook wasn't accorded the luxury of privacy VMin had to build their bond. Jikook had to build their bond with the camera's trailing them. How many times have we seen JK give death stares to the camera people for invading his me time with Jimin?

Not to be psychoanalytic but I feel, this is what induced the exhibitionist tendencies we see in them- or perhaps I'm wrong and this is just them being extra. Bless them.

Within the one year JM was trying to connect with JK through skinship, JK was also only coming around to understanding what skinship meant to him. They were evolving at different paces.

JK has the most walls in BTS. He wasn't just physically closed off to skinship in the early days forcing Tae to strip him naked in the bathroom, he was emotionally closed off too.

He is still pretty much emotionally closed off- he likes to put up walls. He had his own room at the dorm, does his own laundry, barely keeps in touch with the others or pick up the damn phone when they call etc.

Jk barely partakes in the group's established way of life except for perhaps the skinship. In my opinion.

It took JK a while to understand this culture of skinship though. And the members, all of them, had to push his boundaries further back in order to connect with him.

For instance, Jin pinching his nipples to wake him up, Tae doing- well, all of it. Go watch Taekook sexual tension edits, I dare you. You'll understand.

These members had three years off camera with JK to build a connection with him and even they were met with some resistance from JK.

All Jimin had was a year with JK. I feel Jimin lowkey coveted what the others had with JK and perhaps wanted to have that with him too. Why? Because of his need to belong and connect with people. Watching JK's dynamics with the others probably made him feel left out.

I also understand how this could have been overwhelming for young JK who was having both his physical boundaries and emotional boundaries breached at the same time by this person whom he he'd known for only a year.

That's just one of the major differences between Jikook and Taekook: while Tae was busy breaching the physical walls between him and JK, Jimin was attempting emotional heist on him. Bravo Jimin, Bravo.

So do I think at this point in 2013 that Jikook were falling in love or had fallen in love? NO. But what I took from that moment was that Jimin wanted and needed to feel a sense of belongingness with JK.

Mind you I said he wanted to belong, not owned. Freedom is a component of Jimin's love language. In as much as he wants to be kept he wants to be set free- To be be given the room and freedom to explore options and take risks without judgement and without sanctions.

This need is often misconstrued as him being noncommittal.

His need for freedom, I believe, stems from his being raised in a conservative home with parents that directed and dictated every facet of his life and wouldn't even allow him to pursue his passions until later. It took a while for his father to give him the go ahead to pursue his dream- which is performing on stage.

This is why I said in my last post that Jimin has a need to be in control of the decision making in a relationship. Being able to do as he pleases is important to him. Being able to control his own narrative is important to him. And the only person in BTS that permits him to have such authority over him is JK.

Now, I know you are going to say 'but JK is a bit possessive yadda yadda yadda'.

Listen, Jimin's need for freedom is inextricably linked with his fear of judgment and repercussion. What this means is, although he wants his freedom he is often afraid of what will happen if he should go for it.

As such, very often he wouldn't do anything without permission. Especially if he feels it's going to land him in trouble.

I fist noticed this in the 2014 Jikook bangtan bomb when he said he was starting to take a liking to JK but then right after he asked if JK was ok with that. Suga have also said, Jimin doesn't go out of his way to do things that makes people hate him- See this is why he needs JK. He could use some rebellion in his life.

However, this fear of sanctions often makes him complacent to and an accomplice in toxic behavioural patterns.

For instance, until recently, he would enable JK and encourage his acts of jealousy and possessiveness and even incite them at times. He would hold on to the thorns if it means keeping the rose.

But I see him asserting himself and demanding space within their relationship at times but when he does and JK withdraws he would act clingy around JK.

It is what Manila was about, what August 2019 was about and what April/May 2020 was about. I know some of y'all don't agree with my analysis on these moments, but I'm gonna have to stand by it.

Jimin is all about the balance of scales. The balance of needs and wants. The balance of fears and desires. It's just the Libra in him. Give him too much freedom and he will feel unwanted, hold on too tight and he would feel suffocated.

'I value my relationship. Spending time with my friends is gold' remember this shade?

Jimin's fear of Judgment comes from being a perfectionist and also being raised in a conservative home with a lot of expectations of him to be the model son as the elder male.

Thus, he instinctively gravitates towards people who are less judgy or have too much expectations of him.

Also, because he believes he has to work hard to achieve the things he wwants he wants to be loved, it would mean a lot to him if he didn't have to work hard to have someone love him.

It makes sense then that he would gravitate towards JK.

Jk embodies all of Jimin's wildest desires. I call this the allure of the Golden Maknae. Jk doesn't conform. He doesn't care about people's opinions of him and lives his life on his own terms- something Jimin is striving for.

No member in BTS is as free spirited, or as rebellious as JK is. When Suga told him not to get a tattoo because the fans would hate it- he's gotten it anyway hasn't he?

The best part, JK fell all on his own. And you damn right. he fell hard.

Still on the subject of fears, another fear I feel Jimin has that speaks to his love language is the fear of being a burden.

It is why he gives and gives and keeps giving. He'd rather give than receive. Which by the way, JK is the only member I have seen Jimin demand back what he gives him. Emotionally speaking.

Because he gives a lot of himself, he burns out quickly and feels emotionally drained quite often.

He has admitted himself that he used to drink by himself in his room whenever he felt drained. I assume he drank by himself because he didn't want to be a burden to others. Aka JK.

You see, JK is an empath. He feels people's pain as if they were his own. You just have to see him tear up while watching JM cry to understand what I mean by this. Jimin is a nurturer, he knows what it feels like to listen to someone's pain.

And if Tae is the one he goes to when it becomes overbearing then what does he need JK for? Glad you asked!

What JK offers Jimin is nourishment. A safe space for him to heal and reboot. JK replenishes Jimin. It is why he constantly wants to be around him.

Jk has been a canvas in their love dynamics from day one. They've both had to negotiate their needs and wants to make their relationship work. Which is something I find unique about their dynamics and why I believe they are real.

JK's lack of experience in dating, meant he had gone into their relationship without any preconceived notions of love. He's had to learn to love Jimin the way Jimin wants to be loved.

Coming from the background he's coming from, and having been denied his ambitions for such a long time, I see why Jimin would be drawn to people that are quite ambitious.

And even though, JK wasn't this person at first, Jimin has had to hype him up to the task. He pushes JK to be more ambitious.

When it comes to JK, I feel it's more about his potential to be everything Jimin wants in a partner and JK seems more than happy to comply with this.

Because of Jimin's duality and as a natural nurturer, I feel Jimin would also be attracted to someone emotionally open to recieving his love but not too emotionally dependent on him- the balance of scales I mentioned earlier.

It is why VMin wouldn't work, in my opinion. Tae is too emotionally dependent on Jimin. He ends up taking too much than he gives. On the other hand, Suga isn't emotionally dependent enough.

Again, for a man who's battled insecurity for years, it's safe to assume security, certainty and stability are an intricate part of his love language.

He seeks validation of these needs through the most random of things. In my opinion. He wants to be the one that knows JK the best. It matters to him if their clothes match, if their hair colors match, if JK meets his eyes in the middle of a serious comeback interview, if he checks all of JK's answers- hell, dude be whispering sweet empty nothings in JK's ears most times, talking about they are destined to be together and shit. You are me, I am you. Shit.

As annoying as some of these behaviors may be, JK is very considerate and tolerant of them and consideration is another one of Jimin's love language. This goes back to having been denied his dreams by his father. That denial flowed from a lack of consideration of his needs.

And as much as emotionally connected he is with Tae, Tae barely takes his feelings into consideration. And you see this in the letter Tae's written to Jimin. Or even in the dumpling incident where Tae put his want above Jimin's.

Not to mention the moments, JM have had to walk out of rooms because- Tae won't stop playing with JK's dam hair! Lol. They are cute.

People take from Jimin without reservation. But Jk is considerate as Jimin is of JK's needs.

Jk wasn't the 'exhibitionist' in that pair. He's a very private individual from what I can tell.

That PDA, that exhibitionism we see in them, that's all Park Jimin. He kinky. Dude freaky as fuck- we ain't mad at that. Bless him.

He enjoys public displays of affection. It's how he receives love. But PDA is not JK's love language, in my opinion. Yet he goes out of his way to show his affections for JM openly.

The best example I can give of this is Rosebowl.

JK understands that in order to be intimate with JM he has to allow himself to be influenced by him.

And Jimin understands that, as much as he wants to be close to JK that he doesn't have to rush him or force him into giving him the things he need from their relationship.

They are both very considerate of each other's needs, as random and ridiculous as those needs may be and cater to them in a way that is uniquely them.

Take the New Jersey live 2019 for example. Jimin seemed exhausted. Didn't want to be on another Live that night but JK clearly wanted to be seen on a Live together with him so he was there.

Another instance is the rock bison incident, where JM exchanged his toy for JK's just to make JK happy.

CONCLUSION

Listen, Jimin is in love with Jk no matter how imperfect you think he is.

No matter how much you think JK sucks at expressing his feelings for JM, Jimin loves him. No matter how close JM is with the other members, aka VMin, Yoonmin, Minimoni and the others; no matter the lack of emotional and physical boundaries between him and the others he will always fall back on Jk because none of those relationships fulfill him as much as JK does.

Jimin's constant need to be around JK could only mean there is some he gets from JK, a sense of fulfillment he gets that he doesn't get from any other member.

Keep supporting Jikook.

Signed,

GOLDY

[thexgrayxlady]

Notes: This is a purely self-indulgent and very lighthearted AU and if I’m the only one who is enjoying themselves with it, that’s all that really matters. TBCH I’m not sure where I’m going with it and I know this isn’t very good or perfectly in character, but I’m having a good time and it’s been a long time since I’ve written anything, so I’m okay with it if I’m just writing a messy little crash into hello.

The Universe Won’t Wait for You

Outside the ruined temple, dark clouds gathered and howling winds carried the metallic tang of summer storms. Heady incense drifted from inside, where the flicker of braziers cast statues of forgotten gods in stark chiaroscuro. Yet, under the wind and crackle of flames, the air hung still and silent, charged with the promise of lightning.

The jungle crept up around the ancient stones. Gnarled vines threatened to drag the crumbling archway back into its depths. Fragments of cracked and chipping mosaics peered through the leaves, their tiles scattered across the floor with the trees’ detritus.

The roof had long since caved in and the once gilt friezes lining the main hall were now washed almost smooth. The faceless figures posed in the uncanny silence, leading the way to the sanctuary.

At the altar, a group of very annoyed people stood over the unconscious leader of a dragon cult and his scattered cards, having narrowly averted the end of the world for the third time in as many months. The timing was inconvenient for everybody involved and it was universally agreed upon that it would have been better if these assholes had waited until next weekend to try and destroy the world.

“So if we beat the megalomaniac of the week, why isn’t the portal going away?” Tea asked, vaguely gesturing to the swirling silvery distortion above the altar.

“I keep telling you nerds it’s not a portal.” Although against his will and his better judgement, the geek squad had grown on Seto Kaiba like E. coli on room temperature meat, he would still sooner saw off his own hands with a rusty spoon than admit it.

“We could always leave it alone,” Bakura said, disdainfully looking over one of the cultist’s discarded scrolls before rerolling it. “His Latin was terrible. It probably won’t do anything.”

“It won’t do anything because it’s a not a portal.” Their group would have it found it infinitely more worrying if he didn’t insist that the latest near apocalypse had a logical explanation. As of late, he’d settled on saying that anything he couldn’t immediately explain wasn’t magic, just science they didn’t understand yet. Everyone might have appreciated this a bit more if not for how often they had to deal with the fallout of his attempts to understand the science. “Watch.”

He picked up one of the scattered cards (rare, but only good for niche dragon decks and he would notadmit that he would have found this clown’s cards useful) and tossed it towards the floating mass. It passed through without incident and collided with the back wall.

“Wheeler could make something more convincing.” He rolled his eyes. This entire escapade had been a nuisance. He still wasn’t sure how he’d been talked into it. The others certainly hadn’t just mentioned that they needed a ride.

“Yeah, these guys tried to take our dragons cards and dragged us out here to show us some crappy holograms,” Joey replied.

“You would believe a bunch of delusional lunatics.”

Yugi paused checking on the cult leader and decided to head this off before it became serious.

“Guys, stop fighting!” he said, his voice quiet and gentle, yet brokering very little argument. When he realized that Kaiba was gearing up for an argument, he added, “You’re wasting time and the sooner we figure this thing out, the sooner we can leave.”

“Whatever,” he said, turning dramatically, letting his coat flare behind him. “I’m going to figure out what’s going on because some of us have jobs to get back to.”

“You’re self-employed!” the blond shot after him.

While he examined a pile of rubble on the far wall for a projector or an off switch, the others looked over the altar and scrolls. He was just about to shift some stones out of the way when lightning split the sky.

The portal flared and spun wildly. Roaring thunder followed close behind and a glowing thing shot from the portal before it collapsed upon itself as if it had never existed.

“Kaiba look out!” Yugi shouted. “That thing’s headed straight for…”

“It’s a hologram,” he shouted back, gesturing dismissively at the thing barreling towards him without actually looking at it. “It’s not like it can hurt…”

The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, his ears ringing, and struggling for a full breath.

When he regained enough sense to figure out what was going on around him, he realized that his arms were wrapped around something warm and solid. The thing thrummed under his hands, like working on an ungrounded circuit. He came around to a curtain of white and a pair of horribly familiar blue eyes.

The woman shot back, her fingers splayed across his chest, her face contorting in stunned confusion. She started to speak, her voice raspy and quiet, stumbling over words in a language he didn’t understand. Yet even without knowing the words, he got the sentiment.

“What. The. Fuck.”

This couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be real. He must have cracked his head when he hit the ground. She had to be a hallucination or a hologram or…he didn’t know, he couldn’t think clearly enough to figure out what specific kind of nonsense was going on.

Somewhere off in the distance, the nerds said something, but it was like listening under water. And as much as he wanted to shout at them to shut up so he could focus, the words stuck in his throat.

He knew her. From that trip to Egypt. Her name was…

No. No.

This wasn’t happening. The world didn’t work this way. People did not just fall out of holes in the sky. He’d been dragged kicking and screaming into accepting that maybe the supernatural bullshit that followed him around possibly had some merit, but thiswas a step too far.

None of this made any sense. Kis…She was impossible. You couldn’t just fling someone through space and time with badly mangled Latin. It took energy. It took machinery. Complex math, things that went beep, big red buttons that gave the nerds heart attacks when he pushed them.

(But these idiots were trying to summon a dragon, weren’t they?)

This violated so many different laws of physics. There must be another explanation. He just had to keep calm and think of it. His heart hammered against his chest. Every time he almost had a grasp on this, he caught her eyes, and any theory beyond rote denial slipped away.

She couldn’t be real. He’d barely thought of her since that trip. Whatever, whoever, she was, it was the past. It didn’t matter. She didn’t matter. He had to focus on figuring out how the hell some loser cultists managed time travel with some incense and dead lizards, no if they managed time travel some incense and dead lizards, when, despite his disregard for the laws of men and gods, even he was still mostly beholden to thermodynamics.

They probably hadn’t. There had to be something in the incense.

Still, the logical part of his brain told him that even his best holograms didn’t feel this real and there was no logical way they knew what she looked like. Her heartbeat fluttered under his hands. She smelled like prison grime and ozone and petrichor.

So a hallucination then. But everyone else kept talking. He still couldn’t really hear them, but maybe they could see her too. Or that was just another facet of his concussed delusion. But if this was a hallucination, then why couldn’t he understand her? He’d never hallucinated in a language he didn’t understand before.

Not a hologram. Not a hallucination. Where did that leave him? Flat on his back on a cold stone floor with a dead woman straddling his waist and the growing certainty that he would never live this down.

Again, she leaned in, her head tilted to the side. Time slowed as she brought a hand to his face and his heart beat too steady to be truly calm as she studied him. She was so small. He could easily throw her off and get away, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even look away as the world shrank down to just the two of them.

She didn’t look quite the same as in the memory. She didn’t seem half so fragile. Her long, pale hair was tangled and her face prematurely lined. Her dress was more a collection of mismatched patches than an actual garment. Bruises and scars bloomed along her arms and collarbone amid patches of thick, almost scaly looking skin.

He wondered if the memory, vision, whatever it was, was accurate. How much of what he knew about her was true? How much had been made up by someone who’d never met her to fit her role in the game? Did it even matter? He was his own person, why should he care about her just because of a supposed connection to the Blue Eyes White Dragon?

Yet despite everything going on, she seemed alert and curious, determined to figure out what exactly just happened, whereas he had to remind himself to keep breathing.

Just before her rough, calloused fingers brushed his jaw, a jolt of static leapt between them. She reeled back, her pupils snapping into narrow slits. Thin, cracking lips curled back over sharp teeth in an inhuman hiss. Her shoulders flexed and he half expected wings to unfurl from her back.

Then she must have caught sight of the others because she shrank back, trembling. A horrible charge built under his hands. He willed himself move just enough to let go.

She scrambled away, breathing in sharp, hissing gasps. Upon reaching the far wall, she shot up a crumbling pillar and crouched as far back on the bottom ledge of a frieze as she could manage and stared down in horror as the first few drops of rain fell through the broken ceiling.

He stared back, the concussed or drugged or shocked daze lifting just enough to drag himself to a sitting position.

She was impossible. But her eyes were electric bright and she’d felt like a damn live wire in his hands. He hadn’t figured out the physics behind this yet, but he understood one thing.

Kisara was very real.

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, kidnapping, torture (not the gory kind), angst, buried trauma.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: You have a woman that seriously hurt you, at your mercy, and you’re struggling with how far to take it. Meanwhile, Marcus realises he’s going to have to save you from yourself, if he can find you in time.

Chapter 43

  You waited for her to wake up for almost thirty minutes, and that was after you’d taken her to the abandoned warehouse, and secured her to a solid metal post that used to connect the floor to the ceiling. You didn’t know exactly what kind of tranquilizer Tech had used, but it sure was potent.   Her feet were still tied together and you’d placed her on her knees with her back to the post. Her arms were strung up above her head on either side of the post, and secured individually, to ensure she couldn’t use either hand to untie the other.   Her head hung low between her shoulders and her body seemed completely limp. If not for her slow and even breathing, you’d have thought she was already dead.

***

  After your phone had gone to voicemail for the third time, Marcus lost it.   He’d been working on dismantling the containers, no longer needed, while he waited for Aidan to finish his task, and for you to call him. He didn’t do well with idle hands when he was worried about something, and there was so much at stake right now.   Then his phone had beeped, and as he’d read the message, his blood had turned to ice. He’d immediately tried calling you back, but he was routed straight to your recorded voice declaring that you were indisposed at the moment.   Desperate to believe that you wouldn’t do this, that you weren’t cruel enough to do what his mind was telling him were the only reasons you would have taken off with the believed head of the entire organisation you were trying to bring down, he tried again.   The third time was just dumb, but he really was losing it.   He ran back to Tech.

  “I need you to track my wife, right now! Her phone, car, fucking watch – anything!”

  “What? Why? What’s going on?”

  “She took off with Kane, we have to find her before she does something she can’t come back from.”

  “She wouldn’t do that, Marcus. She started all of this because she wants the pain and deaths to stop. She’s a good person.”

  “Yes, she is. But Kane very nearly killed our baby, and as much as I hope that she’s strong enough to resist, I know that the mother in her is the most powerful part of her, and she’s gonna wanna hurt Kane. Even if she doesn’t kill her, she might still torture her, and I can’t let her do that. It would never stop haunting her, specifically because she is a good person. Please, Tech.”

  “Okay, okay. Let me see what I can find.”

  Marcus was beside himself with worry, and his mind was grasping at anything it could to distract itself, while there was nothing he could do but wait.

  “Where are we with the operation?”

  Tech answered him at the same time as he typed impossibly fast on his laptop, and various windows were popping up and disappearing on the screen.

  “Only six more cities left to confirm completion. All the others have been successful.”

  “I’ll check on the kid.”

  He walked over to where Aidan sat on the same spot in the grass. The boy was pale and bathing in cold sweat, breathing hard and visibly trembling with the effort it had taken out of him. With so few locations left, he had been able to let go of most of the birds, but he was exhausted and still had hundreds of birds left to direct for a while yet.   Marcus knew that Aidan’s fate mattered to you, and it did to him as well, so he sat down next to him, and put his arm over the kid’s shoulders. He just wanted to convey that he was there and that he cared, and Aidan seemed to feel it, because his discomfort lessened a bit.

  “I found the car!”

  Tech’s voice reached him from across the field, and he got up, but not before whispering ‘hang in there, kid’ to the boy. Then he sprinted back to his friend’s station.

  “Tell me.”

  “I don’t know what the hell she did with her phone, but I can’t see it at all. I had to break into her car’s emergency alert system, and trick it into believing there’d been an accident, to get it to reveal the coordinates. It’s parked on a street on the edge of a warehouse district, but she could be in any one of a hundred different abandoned structures on that lot.”

  “Just send me those coordinates, I’ll find her.”

  ***

  When she finally did wake up, you felt oddly calm. As though something inside you relished the thought that she was about to wake up to a real-life nightmare. Somewhere deep inside, you knew that you should be disgusted with yourself for reacting like that, but your hatred towards this woman was clouding your mind, and darkening your heart. But just knowing that wasn’t enough to make you wanna stop.    Her head twitched first, and then her hands, as she tried to move against her restraints. When she realised that she was unable to, she tried to lift her head, but she was still groggy, and her nerves weren’t responding normally, resulting in a clumsy few bobs of her head before she managed to draw it back to rest against the post.   She was still too groggy to speak, but you saw the recognition in her eyes when they fell on you, and there was surprise in there as well, which pleased you more than it should have.

  “Hi. I’d say it’s good to see you, Emily, but it just isn’t. I don’t even know what to say to you yet. I’ve been sitting here for half an hour thinking about what I wanna say… or just do, to you, and I still don’t know. But we have time. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

  “You… have no.. idea… what… you’re doing.”

  “And why is that? Because you experiment on people against their will, and have no problems with being complicit to mass-murder, if not committing it yourself? Or is it because you’re the leader of a covert organisation of hundreds of agents that do all of that on your behest?”

  She was regaining control of her body, and you could see the contempt in her face as it dawned on her just how much you’d already figured out.

  “How?”

  Her tone was demanding and arrogant, and as the façade of the benign doctor fell away, you didn’t even recognise her face anymore.

  “You told me. Through my subconscious. Word of advice: if you’re gonna give people powers, having no idea what they might turn out to be, don’t show them your fucking face.”

  “Those memories... were removed. The super who took them… he never fails.”

  “He left behind just enough that my powers could recreate a single image for me. But that was enough.”

  “Well, congratulations, you figured it out. You’ll never stop us; our organisation has grown exponentially.”

  “The Society of Inferiority Complex, yeah, we know.”

  “How mature…”

  “An acronym that spelled SIC (sick) was just too appropriate to pass up.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you call us. Before long, you’ll be introduced into a world where everyone is just as powerful as you. You won’t be so smug then.”

  You got up from the crate you’d been sitting on, and stepped right up to her so you could squat down and face her at eye-level, mere inches away from her.

  “Tonight, hundreds of our operatives have kidnapped hundreds of yours, just like I did with you. We’ve been monitoring your activities for months, mapping your movements, documenting your labs and temporary offices all over the world. You never even knew how many supers live covert lives in today’s society, did you? Well, we found hundreds of them, and after hearing what you did to me, and to those children, they all volunteered to help us. Your own actions created an army of superpowered people hellbent on destroying you. Did you really think you’d be able to beat us? All you’ve done is unite us.”

  “Aren’t you clever, little Rainbow. But, tell me… If you’re such a good girl – why’d you bring me out here? All alone. Where no one can hear us.”

  You pulled back just a few inches, but her question only managed to wake all the anger inside you back to roaring life. If she really wanted to know the answer, you’d happily show her.

  “Because you tried to kill my baby.”

  You dropped all pretence, and allowed your powers to flare freely. The concrete under your feet snapped and cracked, sending long trailing crevices through the floor. Time and erosion had created flaws from underneath, that meant that large sections dropped several inches in some places, sending thunderous rumbles through the whole area. But you didn’t care.   Ordinarily, your mind automatically shielded anything living, standing in your vicinity, when you flooded this dimension with the denser energy of the others that you had access to. Otherwise, you’d destroy every living cell around you by forcibly compressing them until they were crushed. And, ordinarily, that wasn’t something you wanted to be responsible for.   But not this time.   You merely sat there, hands clenched into fists, staring at her, seeing only those eyes that had looked at you with such fondness while you worked with her. Those eyes that had fooled you so completely. You wanted to rip them out of her head.

  “Good show. But we both know you don’t have what it takes to…”

  Your stillness was an illusion. You were slowly gathering an increasing amount of energy into the air around her, and as the space got more and more crowded, her whole body was slowly being crushed.   She fell silent mid-sentence when she realised that your stare was in no way harmless, and a minute later, the first scream escaped her.

***

  The car was unlocked when Marcus got to it. The keys were still in the ignition, and on the front passenger-seat he found a contorted piece of metal and plastic and glass that had probably been your phone. All the materials had melded together as you’d forced them to compact more than they were actually structurally able to.   That was a bad sign, if he’d ever seen one.   There was nothing else in or around the car that could indicate which way you’d taken your prisoner, and the odds that you’d have stayed close enough to be able to hear him if he shouted for you from there, were non-existent.   Using his current, he tried to sense your energy, and was almost startled at how strong a trail he discovered. But, of course, he should’ve known that you’d use your ghost hands to move Kane, to prevent leaving marks on the ground, as well as make it easier for yourself.   He started following the signature of your powers, so familiar to him by now, and it led him into the very heart of the labyrinth of old run-down buildings and factories.   But when he got to a certain point, the energy suddenly quadrupled, snaking off in four different directions.

  “Oh, for god’s sake, woman… Give me a chance, at least.”

  A terrifyingly loud rumbling, accompanied by what very well could’ve been an earthquake, but wasn’t, came from his left, and without hesitating he ran towards it.   The ground was split open and uneven and half-collapsed buildings lined the roads that he followed to get to you. But he still had to run for hundreds of yards until he reached the structure that it seemed to be coming from, based on the directions of the cracks under his feet.   Realising how far you’d allowed your energy to reach, he was once again amazed at just how powerful you were, but also petrified that it might mean he was already too late.   As he made his way inside the lightly trembling warehouse, he heard blood-curdling screams coming from somewhere inside, and his heart fell. But if she was screaming, she was still alive, which meant he still had time.   When he got to the right place, it was like walking into a nightmare.   There was no ceiling above you and no lights were working, leaving the room basking in nothing but the pale and ghostly moonlight. You’d somehow twisted the whole room so that nothing was straight anymore. Posts and beams and even the walls, were all bent or curved or twisted around themselves or something else. The ground had risen in some places, and fallen in others.   It felt like he was walking into a physical representation of what your mind looked like right now. And in a way, he supposed it was.   Kane was still alive, but whatever you were doing to her was painful to the extent that she was shaking uncontrollably against her restraints, pleading like a child for you to stop, in between fits of vomiting and convulsing.   And you were so calm. So viciously calm it was heart-breaking to him. You just sat in front of her, one knee resting on the ground, the other under your elbow, watching her as though you were a cliff and she was the ocean, thrashing against you with all her might, but unable to move your solid frame even a single inch.   If he hadn’t known how much this was actually hurting you, he might’ve found it fascinating. But he knew you so well that all he could see, was his beloved wife being destroyed.

***

  “Hermosa.”

  His voice came to you like a butterfly against a hurricane. Like soft whispers carried on those wings, so faint, but still able to drown out that howling wind in your ears.   Your eyes automatically turned to find his, and the pain that was already overwhelming your heart, seemed to double.   This wasn’t who you were, you knew that. Every fibre of your being knew that, but you’d forced them into silence with your anger. Used your pain as a shield against all those voices telling you to stop.   But Marcus… seeing him look at you with that much fear…   Not the fears you’d seen before, when he’d thought he was losing you, or when you were injured or being threatened, or the fear that you wouldn’t love him anymore after he walked away from you.   No, this time he wasn’t afraid for you – he was afraid of you. Of just what you were capable of, how far you were willing to go, how much darkness you were willing to let into your heart to try and be free of the pain that festered in there.   Your powers were draining you fast. You’d made no attempt to hold them back at all, and if you stopped now, all that exhaustion would come crashing over you, and you’d be unable to finish what you’d started.   But what had you started? What was it you were hoping to achieve here? You’d wanted to hear her scream, and you had. You’d wanted to hurt her like she hurt you, and you had. But did you want her to die? Were you willing to become a murderer just so that you didn’t have to see the falseness of her face ever again?   Confused, but no less angry, you forced your gaze away from your husband, and refocused on Kane, pulling even more energy out to thicken around her until one of her shoulders was pushed out of alignment with the amount of force bearing down on her.   The harsh popping sound was loud enough to reach Marcus’ ears, and her resulting scream made him close the distance between you, while he started begging you to stop.

  “Please… this is wrong, you know that, mi amor.”

  “You know, I remember thinking that if there had just been someone there to stop my torturer, I could’ve been spared so much pain and fear. And then I found out someone was there, but she did nothing to help me. She just watched and enjoyed the show. So, why should I treat her any better? Why should she be spared that pain?”

  Your energy already filled the room, and half the damned district, so when the images started appearing, they didn’t just show up around you, they flooded the whole area. Every memory you had of every moment that had hurt you, throughout your whole life.   There were hundreds of them.

  “The tears I’ve shed could build a lake. Tell me what I’ve done to deserve that. How could anyone do anything bad enough to deserve all of this?”

  “You’ve done nothing wrong, hermosa. Life just doesn’t work like that.”

  “Then I should at least get to avenge myself!”

  Her other shoulder popped, and she squealed and wailed until her voice gave up and she just sobbed instead.   Marcus moved even closer, just a few yards away from you now.

  “You should. You should get to avenge all the terrible things that have been done to you, but you never can. All you can do, is hurt yourself instead. I know you’re forcing yourself not to feel it right now, but this hurts you. You want it to feel good, to make you feel better, but it won’t, because you’re a good person. You are a good person, hermosa. That’s why I married you, that’s why you’re carrying my child, and that’s why my daughter loves you.”

  Missy. Fuck. Why’d he have to mention her?

  “Please, sweetheart. Don’t make me watch you destroy yourself. I already lost one wife… I need you to let me keep you.”

  His voice was so frail by the end of that sentence that you feared a mere breath might break it apart. And yet, his words held so much power. They forced their way under your skin, cooling your blood and pushing the anger out.   But the pain was still just as strong.   Desperate to get rid of it, to be free of everything that haunted you, you collapsed on the ground, and enormous quantities of your sparkling dust poured out of you, flooding the room in every direction, flowing unhindered through all that energy that you’d pumped into it.   The images were still there, snapshots of the worst moments of your life, the one’s that caused you more pain than you could ever voice, and you wished that you could make them solid. That you could pull them out of yourself completely and leave them behind in that room.   The dust pulled the images apart, turning them into three-dimensional representations of themselves, while you watched, actually seeing the magic happen for the first time.   When the sculptures were finished, they solidified, just like before.   A single tear escaped your left eye as you saw your very worst memories turned into some sort of bizarre museum-exhibit all around you. It rolled swiftly down your cheek, and with the way you were sitting, it should’ve hit the top of your left hand, holding you up from the ground. But it never landed.   Instead, it hovered mid-air for a few seconds, before splitting into dozens of smaller drops, that each flew away to one of the sculptures. And as the drops made contact with them, the sculptures turned to stone. Transparent, and still sparkling in every colour on the spectrum, but unmistakably more solid than just the dust.   Once again, your powers had tried to give you what you asked for, what you needed the most. If only the memories could’ve been trapped inside those statues as well. If only you actually could get up, walk away and leave them behind forever.   Strong arms encircled you as Marcus pulled you off the ground and into his chest, and you finally gave in. Now that you allowed yourself to feel it, you were completely spent. You wanted to say something to him, but he didn’t need an explanation, he understood everything, you knew that.

  “Marcus… I’m sorry…”

  He just kissed your forehead and held you closer, but if he said anything, you passed out before you could hear what it was.

Author’s Note: As always, I love criticism, please don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@allmyspideys​​ @blueeyesatnight​ @hrk-fic-recs​ @strawberryperegrine​ @lucrezia-thoughts​ @computeringturtle​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @giselatropicana​ @ayamenimthiriel

[bnhayyy]

The Call (6)

Chapter Title: Heartache

Wordcount: 2.8k

Fic Tag: Click

Ao3 Link: Click

Chapter Summary: Mikasa tells Annie about her past.

Notes: Alright! So this chapter is a little on the short side. The next two chapters will be as well, having originally been one super long chapter that I cut into three for the sake of themes and pacing. But on the bright side, yesterday I posted a Yumihisu one-shot that takes place between the second and third scene of chapter three, so be sure to check that out if you haven't seen it already. Once again, thank you to Celadon for betaing this chapter! And if you’re enjoying this fic, please consider joining my writing discord or buying me a ko-fi! You know, ko-fi. The thing that exists so monetized tumblr doesn't have to.

The week following the visit to the club passed by in a blur. Annie watched as Mikasa doubled down on trying to hunt Ymir, only for none of her efforts to bear fruit. For good reason. The whole time Mikasa hunted, Annie carefully walked the line of looking helpful while contributing nothing. 

Her faked efforts and need to preserve the scapegoat for as long as possible canceled out Mikasa's genuine zeal.

Or maybe Ymir was just better at this than they were. The results were the same either way. It looked like they weren't going to see Ymir again until she was ready to be seen.

Krista had proven herself to be both a help and a hindrance.

Annie hadn't seen the girl since that night at the club. Art was the only class she shared with her, but a little snooping had revealed that she hadn't been to any of her other classes either. Apparently, she had been calling in sick. Although they had been able to find the apartment building she lived in, they hadn't been able to get her exact address, and Mikasa wasn't quite ready to break into every single apartment in her quest to find Ymir.

Or confirm that Krista was still alive.

Annie noticed that Mikasa's anxiety had subtly grown with every day that they didn't see Krista… just not enough to make her break the law. For her part, Annie didn't press the matter. Seeming too willing to break into someone's apartment could set off all kinds of alarms. Besides, it was good that Krista was making herself scarce. If she had decided to stick around and give Mikasa ideas about Ymir's innocence, Annie really might have had to act.

That didn't mean that she was in the clear. Even if she was staying away for the time being, the fact remained that Krista Lenz was an unknown factor in a carefully calculated equation. Ymir too, for all that her little group had been using her presence to their favor so far. They had the potential to throw everything off balance if they decided to get involved. For that reason, they had decided to crack down on as much as they could.

Getting phone taps set up was a risky, tedious, and nerve-wracking process. However, by the end of the week, the phone in Smith's office, Smith's landline, Smith's cellphone, Mikasa's phone, and even Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Armin's phones were all bugged. Annie still had to find an opportunity to get Smith's friend's phones, but she planned on taking care of it soon.

Annie didn't know what to make of those two. An overly energetic watcher and a grouchy little demon hunter, the meeting Smith called to introduce them to everyone had been dominated by the former rambling while the latter glared at anyone who dared to look at him for more than three seconds. She didn't understand how Smith would mesh with personalities like theirs. Yet watching them for a little while had made it clear that the three of them were close. Genuinely close, not like the act that she, Reiner, and Bertolt put on.

Or the lie that she was building with Mikasa.

***

Annie: Patrolling tonight?

Mikasa: Of course

Mikasa: I'll be at your place at 7

***

It was 7:15 when Mikasa arrived. Annie may not claim to know her well, but she had gotten to know the last slayer well enough over the past few weeks to know that being late was unusual for her. She raised an eyebrow when she opened the door for her, allowing it to ask her unspoken question.

"Armin was over," Mikasa said as she stepped inside.

"I see," Annie said, closing the door. "You seem... close."

No. That wasn't right. One of the first things she had learned about Mikasa was that she wasn't truly close to anyone, Armin included. Annie leaned against the door as she reconsidered her phrasing. "You seem like you could be close," she settled on.

Mikasa stiffened. She turned to face Annie, but instead of making eye contact with her, she looked down at the bag that held her slaying supplies. "Yeah," she said, voice soft, but too vague to make out any specific emotion. She clutched her bag to her chest, probably unthinkingly. If she knew that she was holding onto it like a comfort and a shield, god knew that she probably wouldn't let herself. "If things were different, we probably could be."

Annie frowned. So that was the problem, the mindset that she and Reiner had been working so hard to cure her of. (Just in time to snatch her life away from her.) "You keep him at a distance because you're the slayer," she surmised.

"No," Mikasa said, causing Annie to blink in surprise. "It's because of..."

Mikasa hesitated. At least, that was what Annie thought was happening at first. As the seconds dragged on, she saw that whatever she was thinking about seemed to be actively causing her pain.

Annie frowned and stepped away from the door. She wanted to know about Mikasa, but not if it forced the other girl to dredge up painful thoughts. Annie was already going to be enough of a shadow on her existence. If it eased her suffering a little, she was okay with the other slayer dying a mystery. "Hey," she said, "you don't have to-"

"No," Mikasa cut her off. "You deserve to know this." A shadow of resolve fell over her expression as she spoke. She clearly wasn't happy about whatever she was going to say, but that wasn't going to stop her from saying it.

Annie felt something warm flicker in her chest. Maybe it was respect. Maybe it was admiration. Whatever it was, it was helpless to change the course of events. She still acknowledged it, because there was something to be said for someone who was willing to face things that they knew would hurt them. 

This feeling was probably the closest that Annie would ever come to self-sacrifice, the selfish, cowardly person that she was. But she could still allow herself to look at that light.

For as long as it was allowed to burn.

"Do you want to talk in my room?" Annie asked. If Mikasa really was about to spill her guts, then a degree of privacy was the least she could offer her. It was the only thing she could offer her.

Mikasa swallowed heavily and nodded. "Yes please."

Annie nodded and turned to lead her down the hall. The room at the very end was hers. It was small - all of their rooms were. Their organization had paid for them to rent a small house so that they didn't have to take the additional risk that would have been killing someone and occupying theirs, but they hadn't been willing to spring for anything extravagant. At least it wasn't hard to make people believe that a trio of college students could afford to rent it.

If Mikasa had any thoughts on how sparsely decorated the room was, she didn't voice them. Annie lead her over to the bed, where she sat down on one end while Annie took the other. There they sat, Annie trying not to stare too intensely at the other slayer as she waited for her to start. For her part, Mikasa was clearly trying to gather herself. She stared distantly up at the ceiling as she ran through whatever thoughts might be racing through her mind.

Finally, Mikasa shifted her gaze to Annie. "I met Armin through his best friend," she said. "A boy named Eren Yaeger."

Annie frowned. Barely anything had been said, yet she already got the sense that it was more complicated than that. The look on Mikasa's face made it impossible for her not to. 

"There was a home invasion when I was fourteen," Mikasa continued. Her voice was gaining a distant quality, like she was trying not to get caught up in the memory. Based on what she was saying, Annie was all but certain that really was the case. "My parents were killed and I was abducted. Eren ran into us when they were forcing me into the car."

Mikasa paused. Her attempt to distance herself from her emotions must not have been working, because something in her gaze fractured.

Suddenly, Annie had a horrible feeling about how this story ended for Eren. 

"Eren saved me," Mikasa managed. "He killed two of my abductors, and when the third arrived, he gave me the strength to kill him myself."

Mikasa had killed someone? A human being? Annie tried to keep her surprise from showing too readily. She must have failed, because Mikasa paused, fresh hesitation written across her features. 

Annie gave a tiny nod. "It was understandable, given the circumstances."

"That's…" Mikasa faltered. "Eren said that they didn't count as human beings."

"I suppose he might be right." Of course, by that logic, she probably didn't either. 

Mikasa nodded. Whether she was agreeing with Annie or simply recalibrating herself, she did not know. The slayer pulled herself together and continued before she had a chance to make a definitive guess either way.

"After that, it looked like things might be... Eren wrapped his scarf around me and said I could come home with him." Mikasa's expression was blank in a way that could only be forced. However, something in her eyes said that she was struggling to breathe. "That was when the vampire showed up. I didn't know that I was the slayer yet or understand what that meant. But I think he knew, somehow, and wanted to kill me before I could become a problem. It was me he was after. But he was harder to fight than a human, and I was scared, and Eren... he wouldn't let him take me without a fight."

For half a second, Mikasa zoned off, her gaze focusing on some point over Annie's shoulder. She snapped back to herself before Annie could figure out if she should say something. It made her wonder if she didn't want any interruptions.

No. It was more likely that she just wanted to be done with this story as soon as possible.

Annie understood the feeling.

"The vampire knocked both of us unconscious," Mikasa continued. "He must have taken the car keys off one of the dead men's corpses, because when we woke up, we were in the trunk. We tried to get out, but it was no use.

"He took us out by a cliff looking over the sea. He went for me first. Eren didn't like that. I tried to fight the vampire off and told Eren to run, but I couldn't... It wasn't..."

Mikasa started blinking as she fell silent. Annie would have been horrified to see the normally stoic slayer struggling to hold back tears if she weren't surprised that she hadn't started crying sooner.

"You were fourteen," Annie whispered. "You didn't have any training or know what you were dealing with."

Even fourteen-year-olds with years of training and who knew what they were dealing with would have a hard time against a vampire. How much had she struggled against Bertolt and Reiner when she was that age? She had been one of the best human cadets in the organization and Bertolt was far too prone to trying to go easy on her, but it was still hard. It might have been easier if she had already been called back then, but even that wouldn't have been enough to make up for the fear and ignorance if she hadn't been aware of the supernatural.

It seemed that Mikasa didn't see it that way. She shook her head and murmured, "I still had the strength of the slayer."

"Raw strength isn't everything," Annie insisted.

"Maybe not," Mikasa said. "But it should have been enough.

Her gaze drifted back to that spot over Annie's shoulder for a moment. Annie couldn't begin to try to gauge the look in her eyes, especially since it was only visible for a short moment. Her eyes switched to something far more shuttered and closed off in an instant.

"I was thrown over the cliff and into the ocean," Mikasa continued. "I thought I was going to die. And for a moment, I did."

The slayer's eyes closed as she remembered the moment, and Annie was foolishly tempted to do the same, just to acknowledge the event that allowed her to come into being.

Even if Annie herself had only become a slayer two years after Mikasa's death. She wondered, did Mikasa realize that some poor, unknown, short-lived slayer had come between them? She must have. Annie had already said that she was called in 2016 back at the meeting. The lost slayer was probably going to be one of those things that no one talked about, for those who realized that she'd even existed.

Just like Eren Yaeger.

Mikasa opened her eyes. "The cliff was by a park," she said. "Someone must have heard the commotion, because emergency services arrived and resuscitated me. But it was too late for Eren.

"Armin and I met at his funeral."

Annie felt her mouth go dry. What could she possibly say to that?

Perhaps it was a good thing that Mikasa wasn't done talking yet.

"There were holes in my story. Most of the adults brushed it off as trauma, but not him. He asked what really happened, and I was still weak and scared. I told him everything, and he... he offered to help me. I said no, but I did reach out to tell him when I killed my first vampire, because it was... it was the one that killed Eren.

"I thought that would be it for us, but he kept reaching out. Kept trying... to be my friend." Mikasa paused, the fragile expression of someone caught between hope and longing fluttering across her face before she remembered to shut it down. "And I want to. He's... Armin is good. But that's exactly why I can't let him get close. Erwin may have had a point about him knowing how to defend himself from the Supernatural, but I want him to stay as far away from this as possible. And..."

You can't see him without thinking about Eren, Annie thought.

She understood. That was exactly how she had felt about Porco in the months after Marcel died. That was how she felt when she looked at the vampires she'd been abandoned with for a while after Porco and Pieck disappeared. Armin may have been a good person, but he had also been Eren's best friend, whereas it sounded like Mikasa hadn't even known him for a day. If being around Armin was painful for Mikasa, then she could only imagine how it felt for him.

How difficult must it be to build a genuine friendship around a barrier like that?

Impossible, if you weren't even willing to try.

"...It's complicated," Mikasa finished.

"Sounds like it," Annie murmured. "But... it also sounds lonely."

This, she also understood. That understanding did not make her any less of a vile thing. It did not stop her from taking advantage of a moment of vulnerability and loneliness to draw the other slayer closer to her. Closer to her eventual doom.

"It is," Mikasa admitted. Her words were slow and measured, holding all the weight of an unbelievable, life-changing confession. "But it's... less with you around, I think."

Annie's heart did a funny thing as it tried to stop and speed up at the same time. "Is it?" she asked. The dryness in her mouth was back. She wanted to move closer to Mikasa, even though there were a million reasons why she shouldn't.

"Yeah," Mikasa said. "It's... it's nice having someone around who understands what it's like to be the slayer." Her lips twitched into a small, bittersweet, but genuine smile. Annie's eyes lingered on them. "I'm glad that I met you, Annie."

Annie swallowed heavily. "Me too," she lied. In that moment, she wished that she had never met Mikasa Ackerman. She wished that she'd never even heard of her, that she and her companions had continued with their lives utterly unaware of her existence.

She wished that she didn't have to kill her.

She wished that she didn't want to kiss her so much.

Annie shifted back, only then realizing just how close she had gotten to the other slayer, and stood up. "It's getting late," she said. "We should get patrolling, if you're still interested."

Mikasa nodded, snapping out of whatever trance had fallen between the two of them. "I am," she said.

And that was that.

Or so Annie told herself. Because although she wanted to believe that it was a fluke, that she had caught herself and would be able to continue walking her predetermined path, unwavering and unstoppable...

...In her heart of hearts, she could not deny the tension, that there was tension between them for the rest of the night.

She couldn't quite convince herself that it was gone come morning.

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (14/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

Rating: Mature

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 

-/-

This place is decidedly more cabin in the woods than Killian was expecting. Well, if the cabin in the woods was a bloody large cabin made for groups of people in Maine looking for a weekend away from their regular lives. When he looked at the link Anna sent him when they were planning this trip, he didn’t look past the specifics of price and how many bedrooms there were.

So when he pulled up and saw the two-story cabin with its wraparound porch and large, floor-to-ceiling windows nestled near a lake, he was a little taken aback. Mostly, though, he doesn’t understand how the owners of this place decided to make every wall wood paneling and for each damn piece of furniture to be made out of a log or pine or something that looks like it’ll put a splinter in his ass when he sits down.

Hell, he’s pretty sure that he’s going to turn the corner and there’s going to be animal heads hanging from the walls.

At least there’s sunshine and clear water and all of the food and alcohol that a man could ask for.

Or, well, that could be asked for by a joint bachelor and bachelorette party that Elsa and Liam wanted, the both of them insisting that they needed a weekend away and that it should be nothing like the beach…so naturally they’re spending it on a lake.

Anna seemed to think it was all a brilliant idea, and since she is so keen on planning things, he figured he’d let her do it instead of getting into arguments over it. Or, well, he might have been distracted when she called to talk about the trip because Emma was on her knees in front of him, and he wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the feel of her.

“Why do I feel like every time I turn a corner, a deer’s antlers or something are going to poke me in the eye?”

Killian chuckles and turns to Emma next to him. She’s got a large duffle bag hanging over her shoulder, and he doesn’t know what she packed, but it must be all of the contents of her closet.

“Because you probably will.”

“Okay,” Anna shouts as everyone keeps walking through the front door, chatting and dragging in suitcases and looking around, “I have had all of the bedrooms labeled. Elsa and Liam get the master, obviously. Mary Margaret and David have bedroom one on the first floor, and Kris and I will take bedroom two, which shares that bathroom. Will and Belle, bedroom three, which is at the end of the hall just down that way. Ariel and Eric, you have bedroom four, which is right at the top of the stairs and will share a bathroom with Ruby and Mulan’s room, which is bedroom five. The final room is, like, basically the attic. Emma and Killian, you guys get that one. It may or may not be the kids’ room, so don’t be surprised if there are bunk beds up there.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Killian mutters. “Bunk beds? We’re twenty-eight. We don’t get our own regular beds?”

“Do any of the couples here want to give up their private rooms with big beds to go sleep in the attic in bunk beds so that Killian can have a queen mattress?” “For fuck’s sake,” Killian laughs, rolling his eyes at Anna, “the beds are fine. I simply wasn’t aware Emma and I were going to be punished for not having significant others.”

“Yeah,” Emma joins in, “we should get compensated in, like, first choice of food tonight.” “I think Elsa and I get that,” Liam says. “You two will be fine. I’m sure the beds will be comfortable, but Emma, lass, as someone who lives with Killian, you might want earplugs. He snores.”

“Liar.”

Liam shrugs, bright smile on his face. “Have some mercy on the poor girl, Killian. Try not to be too loud.”

Killian opens his mouth to keep protesting, but then he snaps it shut. There’s no point. He doesn’t snore, and Emma knows that. Why should he care if everyone else thinks he snores? He’s sure that half of the people in this room do anyways.

This is Liam’s weekend.

If he reminds himself that enough, maybe he won’t try to pick at everything Liam says and does, and they can all have a good time like they’re supposed to.

Even if he does have to sleep in a damn bunk bed.

Emma elbows his side. “I have ear plugs, but that was mostly because I was scared I’d have to sleep next to David and Mary Margaret.”

“Please don’t put that image in my head.”

“We’re in a cabin full of couples, KJ. How is the image not in your head?”

Killian groans and tilts his head back, and Emma laughs, nudging him again before adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go put our stuff up. My legs are stiff from the drive, and I’m ready to go hiking.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Anna squeals, “I have sunscreen and bug spray for everyone who forgot it. I’ll leave it in the kitchen. Let’s all meet up in half an hour, okay?”

“Anna is…very organized,” Emma sighs as everyone begins walking in different directions looking for their bedrooms. “I feel like she’s a very intense version of Mary Margaret.” “That’s exactly who she is,” Elsa laughs, walking next to Emma up the stairs, which leads them to a hallway with more wood paneling and more large, paneled windows. There are no animal heads yet, though, so Killian would count that as a win. “I think she wants everything to be so perfect for me that she’s taking it overboard. Plus, she’s used to working with all of these extravagant people, so this is kind of out of her wheelhouse. You’re just lucky my cousins couldn’t come this weekend, because that would make it even worse.”

“She’s doing a great job. With this and the wedding. I mean, the wood paneling here is a little much, but this is beautiful.” “Hey, I could have helped plan this,” Killian protests.

Liam, Elsa, and Emma all laugh at him.

“What?”

“If I was a betting man, I’d say the only thing you planned was the food and the alcohol.”

“And to that,” Killian laughs, “I’d say you were right. If I had gotten my say, I would have found a place with one more bedroom so that Emma and I weren’t sleeping in bunk beds while everyone else got normal rooms.”

“I mean, technically,” Elsa says, “I think there’s another bed in David and Mary Margaret’s room, but I think you two might be safer upstairs.”

They get to the end of the hallway where the master bedroom is, and Elsa and Liam tell them that they’ll see them in a few minutes before walking inside while he and Emma turn to find the spiral staircase that leads up to the attic. It’s beautiful, but it’s not exactly convenient when carrying luggage, but he and Emma manage to get their stuff upstairs without any kind of disaster.

“Those stairs would be horrible if you’re drunk. I feel dizzy just getting up here.”

“Aye,” he sighs, dropping his bag and looking around the room.

It’s small, just a set of chairs, a dresser with a television, and then, indeed, a set of bunk beds covered in red plaid bedding. In the center of the room is a round window, and when Killian looks out it, he has a direct view of the lake and all of the surrounding hills and trees.

He imagines none of the other rooms have a view like that.

“Wow,” Emma whistles, “a view like that will almost make you think the lake is better than the beach.”

“Never,” he laughs, looking at her to his side. “I like my salt water and my sand too much to ever give it up, but it is stunning.”

“I can’t wait to get to explore it. It’s so damn nice not to be working this weekend. I haven’t had an actual, multiple-day break in months, and I’m taking full advantage of it.”

Killian nods as he keeps looking out the window. He sees two people walk out onto the deck, and he believes it’s Ruby and Mulan. It’s hard to tell from here, but then one of them walks a little further out and he recognizes Ruby’s red shirt. They must be ready to go already. He needs to change into a different pair of shoes.

Turning around, Killian moves to grab his bag only to see the last seconds of Emma pulling down a sports bra. She’s in nothing but a pair of black shorts and a white sports bra, and dammit if she doesn’t drive him mad like this.

He’s grown to know the curves of her body more intimately than he ever thought he would, and that’s how he knows that she’s been running more this summer and that places where she was once soft are the slightest bit more firm and how he knows the way her skin has changed from a creamy white to a shade or two darker, all of her freckles showing up more and more.

It’s how he knows that if that’s all she’s wearing today, he’s going to struggle holding it together in front of all of their friends.

He doesn’t know what to do when it comes to Emma any longer.

He wants her all the damn time, but his traitorous mind keeps telling him that he wants her in a way that he hasn’t had her: where there are no rules or implications or anything even closely relating to the friends with benefits situation they’ve got going on.

Where Killian can get it out of his mind that Emma kisses him in greeting now, how she intertwines their fingers, how she finds a way to touch him even when they’re not alone. It’s subconscious, he thinks. She’s not doing it on purpose, not seeking him out like she would a boyfriend, but it’s still happening.

(It matters not he is also guilty of doing the same things.)

It’s messing with his mind, with his heart, with everything.

And all he knows is that he feels like he’s betraying her because what Killian feels for Emma is far more than friendship, and he has no idea how to deal with that without mucking it up.

Especially because he can’t seem to stop being with her.

Their first rule was to keep the friendship at the center of everything, to make sure that neither of them messed it up, and the more time that passes, the more time that he thinks he’s barreling them toward disaster.

But he can’t stop.

“You gonna just keep staring at me like that?” Emma teases as she ties a jacket around her hips.

“I don’t believe I was staring.”

She chuckles and saunters toward him until she’s standing toe to toe with him. Killian glances away from her face, but that only leads his gaze toward the top of her breasts and the freckle that seems to be calling him.

Not now, not now, not now.

“Oh, you definitely were.” Emma presses up on her toes and runs her lips across his jaw. God, this is another one of the things about her that drives him mad, and he has to focus all of his attention on his breathing to keep himself from becoming too aroused. “Later,” she whispers. “I really do want to go on this hike, and I’m not going to let you distract me, Jones.” “I thought you were the one distracting me.”

“Eh, it goes both ways.”

And then she’s pulling away with this bright, kind smile on her face, and he has no idea how she can go from seductive to friendly all within the span of five minutes.

“See you downstairs. I need to get Ruby to braid my hair, so I’m going to go ahead and go.”

“She’s out on the deck with Mulan.”

Emma nods, grabs her phone, and then walks out the door.

This weekend is going to be bloody torturous.

-/-

If Killian had to guess, he would say that David and Liam have gotten them lost somewhere in the middle of the woods despite the fact that they’re all following a trail.

Or, well, supposed to be following a trail.

At one point, Anna and Elsa got distracted by this flower bush, and once they veered off the path to look at it, wondering if they could get Elsa’s florist to change her bouquet arrangement, they all started veering on and off the path, especially since there are twelve of them out here on a trail that really only allows two people to walk side by side.

If someone had brought alcohol on the hike, he imagines at least half the group would be lying dead in a ditch by now.

Honestly, Will usually has a flask on him, but as far as Killian knows, he hasn’t pulled it out yet.

Damn.

Killian ignores David and Liam arguing and keeps looking ahead. Emma and Mary Margaret are directly in front of him, now leading the group, and he tries to focus on the ground instead of the way Emma’s ass is nearly on display from the way her shorts are riding up. She hasn’t paid him much attention since they started the hike, and he’s never been so thankful to be left alone, if only for a little while.

He hasn’t been able to run all week, and this is exactly what he needed, even if the quietness of nature is cancelled out by everyone talking.

“I’m not kidding,” Ruby chuckles. “It’s awful. I mean, I get it, these are teenagers who are getting away from their parents for a little while, but do they have to make out in booths that I have to clean? There are so many places they could go, places where I don’t have to look at them while I’m trying to do my job.”

“We’ve made out in those booths.”

“That’s different, and you know it.” “Why? Because you’re the one who is getting a little action?”

“Exactly.”

“Granny’s is a fucking popular make out spot,” Will adds in. “There’s the hallway that connects to the B and B, which has seen more action than Killian has all summer.”

“Oi,” Killian scoffs, turning around to stare Will down, “mind your own bloody business.”

“Sorry, mate. I couldn’t resist.”

“You know who I keep seeing there?” Will continues. “Neal Cassidy. I know he’s dating Tamara, but damn, you’d think they could go to one of their places every once in awhile.”

Killian cringes, nearly faltering in his step, and he finally looks up to Emma, who is simply continuing to walk.

Good. That’s good.

She told him that she was over Neal, that she’s letting it go, but you don’t love someone for that long and have them break your heart and not be affected when someone is talking about them.

“Will, shut up,” Belle hisses.

“Why do I need to – oh fuck,” he mutters. “I’m sorry, Emma. Please ignore me and that bloody wanker.”

“It’s fine,” Emma shouts back, not turning around. “Neal has nothing to do with me anymore. He can do what he wants as long as I don’t have to look at him while I’m eating my onion rings.”

“I’d never make you do that,” Ruby tells her. “I’ll kick him out.”

“Can you even do that?”

“Eh, I can try.”

“Look,” David interrupts, and they all stop to stare where he’s pointing. “There’s that damn split tree. That’s where we were supposed to be going.”

“How do you even know that?” Liam grumbles.

“Because I noticed it on the way up. We’ve been here before, so it we turn that way, it should take us back to the house.”

“Can’t we use our phones to check where we are?” Killian asks only to have both Liam and David glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he backtracks, holding his hands up, “I guess we’re not using technology to make our lives easier.”

By the time they’re back at the house, Killian’s skin has been kissed by the sun, his feet ache, and his stomach is growling with hunger. He could really go for a nap, but Kris offers to cook burgers for everyone down by the lake, so everyone grabs their swimsuits and some drinks and heads down to where the grill is.

Killian settles into one of the lounge chairs that’s set up down there, a bottle of water in hand, and leans back, wondering if napping outside would be possible, but then Liam starts blaring music over some speakers and he knows the nap is never going to happen.

“Hey,” Emma says as she plops down in the chair next to him, “why do you look like you’re about to fall asleep?”

“Because I desperately want to.”

“How are you tired?”

“Because, unlike someone, I drove us up here and could not nap in the car.”

Emma shrugs and curls her legs up in the chair before taking a long sip of her water.  “You make a good point, KJ. Do you think I’d get my hand slapped away if I went and got the bag of barbecue chips off the table before all the other food was ready?”

“Depends on if the picnic table guardian is looking over it or not.” Emma laughs and leans forward, looking over at the table. “David seems to be occupied staring at the grill being all macho man with Kris. I’ll be right back.”

And then she’s jogging over to the table, slowing down right before she gets there, and then grabbing the big bag of barbecue crisps before springing back over to him and sitting back down in her seat, dropping the crisps between them. David looks over at them, and Killian swears that he sees his eyes narrow, like he knows Emma took the crisps off the table.

“Sneaky, love.”

“I try. I don’t know why he does that at any event. It’s like he gets some weird high off of making sure no one gets too food, but the worst part is definitely the fact that he watches to see if people throw any uneaten food away.”

“It is rather odd, isn’t it?”

“It’s the worst is what it is.”

She leans over between them and opens the bag, grabbing a crisp and taking what he swears is the loudest bite in existence. David is likely about to look over at them and give them hell for it. The man is going to make a great father one day.

If only because he can monitor food better than anyone else in existence.

Killian leans back in his chair and settles down into it, closing his eyes. He stretches out his arm, his hand laying against the arm of the chair, and after a few moments of relative silence, he feels Emma’s fingers tracing over his forearm in soothing patterns that have a shiver running down his spin and settling in his stomach.

It feels so natural for her to do this, for him to let her do this, and he should stop it.

But he can’t, not now.

Soon. He’ll figure it out.

Soon.

“I’ve always liked this tattoo the best.”

“Hmm?”

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” She traces the words inked into his skin as she says them out loud. “I don’t know. I just feel like it’s so fitting to have them mixed in with your scars.”

Killian fights with himself to keep his eyes closed, to keep himself from looking into Emma’s eyes. Not a lot of people get such unfiltered access to his scars, and yet here she is in the open tracing them and talking about them and yet again making him feel like maybe they’re not too bad.

“I mean,” she continues, “I like all of your tattoos. They always make me want to get more than my buttercup, but I really like this one.”

“Aye,” he sighs, deciding that just for today, he can let everything be. This is a good moment, and he’s not going to let his mind ruin it. Instead he’ll let Emma run her fingers over his hand and let her hold onto him for a few moments. “I am fond of that one as well. I am also fond of yours, though it is rather small.”

“What? Do you want me to get a giant one?”

“You should get one that covers your entire back.” “Shut up,” Emma laughs, digging her nails into him. “I am obviously not doing that. I don’t know what I’ll do, or if I ever will. I think I’ll just stick to liking yours.”

“I like that plan. Do you think if I eat a crisp that David will hear it?”

“He hasn’t noticed me yet.” “Ah, but you have better luck than me.” “Guess you’ll have to try your luck to see.”

Killian slowly opens one eye, then the next, before moving his arm away to reach into the bag. He takes one bite, eyeing David who still has his back turned, before eating a few more. He thinks that maybe he’ll get away with it until David turns around.

“Jones, put the damn chips back on the table before I burn your food.”

“Sorry,” Emma says to him, shrugging, but he can tell that she’s not sorry at all.

“I think I’ll survive, love.”

When the food is finished cooking, everyone settles around tables and in chairs, eating and drinking and laughing. And it’s nice, a nicer time than Killian has had in awhile if he’s honest with himself. But then the night falls, crickets finding their places in the surrounding trees and a breeze wafting through the campground, causing a chill to travel down his spine as his skin pebbles with goosebumps.

There is a fire going, though, and plenty of alcohol being passed around to warm him, but really, the alcohol might not be the best idea right now, especially since Mary Margaret and Ruby tend to like to play games when they’re halfway to drunk.

Mary Margaret said something about how they needed to play a shower game. It was tradition, but Elsa and Liam hadn’t wanted that. Then Ruby stood up from the bench she was sitting on and declared that they would play Truth or Dare like the grown adults they are. They love their games, though, and, well, Ruby does know how to turn the game into something that is rather more adult than what he played when he was a lad. This is nothing new. They tend to do this at every party they have, but he never knows if it’s going to be tame or not.

So far Elsa has had to share some intimate details about the first time she slept with Liam, which Killian truly did not need to hear about, Liam has chugged down half a bottle of ketchup, Will has jumped into the lake, Mary Margaret has had to answer what the one thing she’d change about David would be, which resulted in a hushed argument, and Ruby has run to the neighboring house and asked them for condoms.

She came back with an entire box.

So, now it’s Ruby scanning the semi-circle they’re sitting in looking for her next victim, because, really, of all the people here, the last person he’d want to have pick out whatever form of torture this is would be Ruby Lucas.

His one glass of rum has not numbed him enough for this.

“Emma,” Ruby finally says, and Killian swears he hears half the group let out sighs of relief.

“I hate you,” Emma mutters, flipping Ruby off.

“Oh, no you don’t. You love me, and I’m going to be really nice to you by telling you that if you pick ‘truth,’ I’m going to ask you about the guy who gave you that hickey last week.”

Killian’s cheeks immediately heat, and he swallows, pushing the thought down. He hadn’t meant to do that. It had been an accident because they are not teenagers and don’t usually leave marks, and he didn’t even know it happened until Emma had sent him a picture the next day.

Shit.

At least Emma’s a damn good liar since it’s not like anyone is actually forcing them to do this.

It’s the spirit of it all.

“Dare, you asshole.”

There are a few whistles from around the group, and Killian already knows there are going to be a few follow-up questions to Ruby’s words later.

“I dare you to…kiss Jones. Killian, not Liam. And none of that on the cheek shit. You two have so much chemistry, and I need to see it. I feel like everyone here needs to see it.”

“Oh my God,” he hears Emma murmur next to him at the same time that he has that exact thought. The whistles increase, some hollering too, and he swears that everyone here but he, Emma, and David are drunk off their asses. “Ruby, no. Pick something else. Like, something normal that non-tipsy you would pick.” “You chose ‘dare.’”

“Because you were going to ask me something I didn’t want to talk about. I don’t want to kiss Killian.” She turns back to him and winces. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he mumbles, knowing she’s trying to save face.

“Why not? He’s super hot. I mean, I know you think he’s hot. You’ve said it before, and you guys kind of have that ‘will they, won’t they’ thing going on, which I have been saying all summer. We actually have all talked about getting a betting pool as to when you’ll finally get together, especially since you and the dumbass are no longer a thing. So, come on, it won’t be that bad. You’ve got to uphold the integrity of truth or dare.”

Emma’s lips part, and Killian knows she has a retort on her tongue. She always does.

But then she’s turning and leaning over her chair until she’s grabbing the collar of his t-shirt and pulling his mouth to hers.

Fuck.

Her lips press into his, soft and warm as they always are, but it takes him a minute to fully close his eyes and appreciate how she feels against him. Eyes are on them, whistles ringing out around the group, and Killian swears he sees flashes of camera lights as Emma sucks on his bottom lip and his hands thread into her hair, pulling her closer.

And for one, miniscule second, he forgets about the people around him and the warring thoughts he’s been fighting for weeks now, and he lets himself revel in how damn good it feels to kiss Emma Swan.

But then it’s over.

They part, gasping for breath, and Killian’s grip tightens on the back of Emma’s head as her forehead rests warmly against his.

Strangely, all he can focus on is the fact that she smells like sunscreen.

“Well, hot damn,” Ruby sighs, and Killian finally drops his hand from Emma’s hair, “I feel like I need a glass of water now. Anyone else?”

There’s a murmur of voices, but Killian ignores them, focusing on the way Emma is blinking at him with a smirk painted on her lips. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” “No, that wasn’t bad at all.”

“Emma, it’s your turn,” Ruby reminds her. “Feel free to do your worst to me.”

“Trust me, I plan to.”

In the blink of an eye, things go back to normal. The attention is back on the game, not on him, not on Emma, and no one says anything else about the kiss.

Apparently everyone cares about it a lot less than he thought they would.

But it was all part of a game. It wasn’t real.

None of it has been.

And he has no idea how much longer he’s going to be okay with that. He also has no idea how he could make any of it real, even if Emma wanted that, because he’s got no fucking clue how to do this.

His brain doesn’t seem to be conjuring up any ideas either.

Shit.

Eventually, the game dies down, everyone quieting and forming their own circles and conversations, and while Killian tries to stay for a little while, when the opportunity to sneak out and go to bed presents itself, he takes it.

-/-

-/-

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[mistresseast]

can you explain in more detail why you think the PT weren't good friends for akiren? i'm not asking out of hate or to start drama, i just never interpreted things that way and i'm genuinely curious. i don't think them being brainwashed by maruki makes them "bad friends", but i don't know if that's what you meant either. i'd love to read a proper explanation on this that isn't just people arguing in the notes of that post.

Hi! Yeah, I know the ~discourse~ climate is pretty touchy and not a good place to exchange ideas, so I’ll do my best to put my thoughts on this matter into words. 

Settle in, bc this one is long.

I’ll start off by saying I don’t dislike the PT, nor do I think they’re bad people, and honestly I think they love Joker a lot! Ryuji calling Akira after his fake death and talking about how his ideas on what makes a hero have changed because of Akira genuinely makes me emotional, along with dozens of other scenes with the thieves! They’re good kids who could be really good friends to Akira but that’s not what’s shown in the game. I don’t think it’s controversial to say Akira’s relationships with all of his friends are transactional. That’s kind of the point, all of his confidants arise out of deals, give and take, and in the metanarrative of the game, that’s how it works. You as the player help these characters solve their problems, and through ranking their confidants up, you get access to more gameplay perks. So it’s pretty even!! But like,,Akira, the character, isn’t the player. There’s no in-story mechanic by which he can cash in friendship points for being-good-at-killing-things prizes. Yes, he uses those abilities to not die in the metaverse, but there is no literal, in-universe way to explain how hanging out with someone translates to [insert gameplay perk here]. So you have to look at what is physically happening in the story. Akira hangs out with the PT, stands there while they have drama with another irrelevant character, and then one way or another their problems get solved and they swear to be Akira’s blood brother or whatever. Akira is a crutch for these characters, and they say multiple times that they wouldn’t have been able to do what they did without him. So all of their shit gets handled and Akira gets?? Like actually gets?? What? Inquiries about his well-being? Offers to help him? Questions about his life, his interests? No,,,not really,, But he gets access to a super powerful persona!! Yay!!! Bc everyone knows he’s just a little shadow-killing machine, right? And even the relationships he does get something tangible (as in separate from the mechanics of the game) out of, like Kawakami’s, are built on the notion that if Akira stops providing for whatever reason, the relationship will end. So essentially, Akira is under the pressure of filling whatever role his friends need him in for however long at any time, and he’s been led to believe that if he stops or fails, he will stop receiving any reciprocal care and acceptance.

(And I know this is all gameplay stuff, I know it has to be like this to codify the complicated process of human relationships, I know all of that, I’m just trying to find a deeper layer bc that’s what I do.)

This whole thing comes into pretty clear focus for me during the third semester when you visit everyone in the false reality. Everyone is happy to see him, of course, but they’re clearly wrapped up in their own happiness. Which is understandable, again, I’m not saying the PT need to be attached to Akira to be good friends, but it all still feels off to me.

If they know Joker, then they’d know it’s weird that he just shows up and starts asking these pointed questions while they’re in the middle of something. All of their other interactions with him have been led by them. Yeah, Joker approaches them bc the player has decided to hang out with them, but the other character always chooses the activity and leads the discussion. Akira showing up out of nowhere and asking them to “remember” and “move on” and whatnot should be raising some major red flags. And it clearly does, since their memories do start to return, but they’re all too scared of losing their happiness that they nope out of the conversation as soon as possible, without stopping to consider why Joker might be trying to reach out to them like that. They’re his friends; they should know he wouldn’t just be trying to hurt them or make them unhappy. After all, their entire relationship with him up til that point has been exclusively about Joker trying to help them. This doesn’t make the PT bad people, running away is a totally natural reaction in that situation. They’re just kids, and their minds have been manipulated to a point, but it’s not like they don’t remember Joker or the way they’ve grown since meeting him. In fact many of them mention how much they’ve matured recently, but they never actually relate that back to Akira, despite him being the primary driving force behind most of their personal arcs, even though they definitely remember him. Translation vagueness or deliberate nod to the idea that the PT don’t actually credit Akira with all the hard work he did after their initial lip service? Hmmm. Anyway, their failure to recognize that Joker is struggling just demonstrates to me what was set up all throughout their confidant links, that their relationships are transactional and that they don’t necessarily consider Joker and his individual needs outside of what he provides for them. And when they no longer need him bc that hole has been filled, he simply doesn’t occupy the same place of importance in their lives. 

Makoto’s flashback in particular stood out to me, bc it was from a moment where she was specifically talking about feeling like she finally found a place to belong with the Phantom Thieves (and by extension, with Joker), but then she desperately tries to brush it off. Obviously that sense of belonging wasn’t meaningful enough to her for her to want it back. And I’m not blaming her, of course, any teenager would choose to have their father back over being in a vigilante group lmao, I just thought it was telling that the devs decided to show us a scene that was originally meant to be heartwarming as an example of the harsh reality Makoto wants to forget. All of the flashbacks are from defining moments for the thieves, but that one specifically got me like *thinking emoji*

So his friends are hesitant, despite the fact that they must know something is wrong. It’s understandable, they all stand to lose a lot if someone messes with the status quo. I genuinely don’t think I would react any differently. But there is someone who reacts differently and against his own self-interest. It’s Goro, the one who has arguably the most to lose, who doesn’t turn away from Akira. He seeks Akira out and teams up with him to uncover what’s really going on, even though he has every reason to believe that prodding too deep will literally mean the end of his life. He forces Akira and himself to face the truth because he knows anything else would just be an insult to what they’ve suffered so far. He’s the only one who never flinches, and that, more than any of his friends’ come-to-jesusing (which Akira still has to initiate) is what Akira needs in that situation. For the first time (outside of the brief instances in the tutorial levels), we see a situation where Akira is actually the dependent one, the one who needs help, who needs support. And the only one who has ever provided that, unconditionally, without demanding anything in return, is Goro. I could go into how Goro’s confidant blows all of the others out of the water in terms of building both himself AND Akira as characters, but it’s been said already and by smarter people than me. But basically, despite competition being a core theme of their relationship, Goro is the only character who is portrayed as Akira’s equal. Their contests are all in the name of improving not just Goro, but Akira too. Goro is the only character who expresses an interest in Akira’s inner life and development, and as such he knows Akira better than anyone else. So when Maruki tries to trap them all in a gilded birdcage, Goro won’t stand for it and he knows Akira won’t stand for it either. That’s why he’s so betrayed if you choose to accept the dreamworld. You’re negating the basis of your entire relationship with him and going against your own principles. Out of every character in the game, the one who knows Akira best and refuses to abandon him even when that could mean his own death is Goro Akechi.

I want to reiterate: I do not hate or even dislike the PT!! And tbh I don’t really think they “abandoned” Akira. That post, imo, is supposed to be kind of hyperbolic. Unless it’s referring to how many of them literally sprint away when he comes to talk to them lol. I look at it more like a commentary on how thoughtlessly the PT act as soon as their wishes are granted. I know it’s set up linearly for story purposes, but isn’t it kind of sad how no one checks up on Akira in the week he’s going around talking to people? Especially after he’s been acting so comparatively weird? It’s not unusual that they might be caught up in other stuff, but while you’re going around and visiting everyone, you don’t get a single text or call from ANY of the thieves, for a whole week!! Goro even comments on it directly with his pointed little “I’m sure you’re just as close as you were before” comment. God, he’s such a bitch. Ultimately, the PT do get their acts together, and it’s partially out of the realization that Akira is struggling alone against something and needs their help, which I love and appreciate. I think they are good friends who want to support Akira, but they can’t understand him past the role they’ve placed him in, and until they do, they’ll never be able to be what he needs. Akira loves his friends and knows he can rely on them in most ways, but those relationships will always be dogged by the pervasive fear that he must constantly earn the right to have the relationship at all. What he needs MOST is someone he doesn’t have to perform for, and from what we see in the game, none of the thieves fit that bill. Except Goro. 

I know this was long and rambly and probably pretty disjointed but I wanted to be as thorough as possible and all of my thoughts just sort of gushed out. Obviously ymmv about all of this depending on how you interpret the game, but this is what I arrived at thanks to my analysis so this is what I have for you! Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

[ghostofcitrus]

more gender crisis bc i need somewhere to document this shit and also if u wanna read and say smth that’s cool too 🥺 fair warning it’s kinda longgg. but there’s a tl;dr and i tried to make the paragraphs short so it’s easy to read and i sorted the thoughts by paragraphs

ok so when i see a girl or group of girls or smth i, for the most part, am like yeah same. i have the same lived experience and like yeah u look cool and i relate in a lot of ways.

but like i also feel the same w non-binary ppl. i see agender ppl and i’m like oh nice that sounds like how i want to live MY life!! i get jelous. i saw a gender ambiguous person the other day and i thouvht i was going to lose my mind i was like AKSJSHJSJSNS Y O U. I WANT TO BE YOU. i talked to them i was like 😭😭i love your hair😭😭 and it was so compelling just seeing them i got my hair cut later that week. i like it.

and i cut my hair and i’m like y e s. and i’ve always wanted a very small/flat chest and have planned on getting a breast reduction (meaning i want basically no tits. i’m like a DDD rn. and i’m short and have a baby face so that’s like. very noticeable. pain.) ASAP. but i like dress and being seen as a girl? but i also want to be non binary, but it feels like something im striving for. i don’t feel like i’m there. i feel like i WANT to be there but i just keep hitting roadblocks.

when i think about OTHER girls, i’m like yeah. i relate to that. but when i think about myself. fully isolated. i want to present like a feminine agender person. i am connected to my girlhood. girl, sister, girlfriend, daughter... all of them accurately describe me. but i also like person, sibling, partner, child.

i like femininity. i like being seen like that. and being seen as a girl is cool and fine. but i don’t feel like it accurately describes all of me. but i’m like scared??

i want to be a “girl” in the way that when u look at me ur like ... is that a girl? my face i like lmao. it’s round and feminine. cool lol. my body.... i wish with like all my heart i woke up one day w/o titties or major curves. but i’ve literally work so hard to accept and like myself in my body. YEARS of forcing myself to look in the mirror and compliment myself. deconstructing fatphobia was a big part of it. but in my head. with no mirrors around. i think of myself as less curvy. a small fame, but not really curvy. much more neutral features. i forget what i actually look like. but when i do look in the mirror now i’m like she’s pretty. i like how she looks. nice. but it doesn’t really feel like me. but i feel cool. it’s like nice makeup that’s someone else chose for u and never comes off. like yes. that’s nice. but... it’s not like “me”. i feel like that about most of my features. but i’ve grown up in them. i don’t hate them. i think they look pretty and i feel confident enough like this. and after all the work i’ve done to get to this mindset... it’s just not what i want.

i think part of what’s messing with me is i’m automatically more comfortable with other girls/afabs, like we just share experiences and i can generally understand how they socialize. guys like,.. not so much. but most of my actual friends have ended up being guys. but im naturally wary of guys. and most around me end up being fucking republicans anyways. and another part of what’s getting to me is when i’m going about my life, i enjoy being stereotypically feminine. like i like to be taken care of, feel small , that bs. maybe it’s internalized misogyny that i feel like the only way i can be that is as a girl.

i also think i just have no idea what it would really feel like to go about the world non-binary. like i just want to keep blending into the background. i don’t want to be that noticeably different, i’m already autistic.

i think it’s also weird bc since middle school have been having periodic gender crisises but they always end in me just getting embarrassed, finding transmeds on the internet and also getting embarresed, not wanting to stop being feminine, or deciding it’s just not worth it.

and i think another thing is, i’ve always felt more connected to girls, but always on the outskirts of that, but that might just be because i’m autistic. but like i’m feminine in the sense that i like dresses. and being taken care of that and that shit. girls tend to really fucking irk me a lot of the times. i don’t really feel “connected” to them, more like “stuck” with them but making the best of it. some are pretty cool :) tbh it’s mostly just other autistic or queer girls i vibe with. other than that.. i struggle a lot to feel connected.

speaking of being autistic.... i’m realizing a lot of what i’m feeling is similar to how i felt when i first started to consider that i was autistic. when i was alone or in a space i was totally comfy in, i felt very confident that i was autistic. but when i was around people, i was like no i’m definitely not. and even now. i know i mask whenever i’m not alone. but i’m literally so fucking used to it it’s not hard at all. it hardly feels like a mask. just a different version of me. not the most authentic, but it’s how i operate around others. so whatever. not what i like per say. but in most cases, i can deal with it and still be perfectly happy (ish). this is exactly how i feel about all of this gender shit.

but i think part of my hesitancy to identify like this is i’ve never met ppl irl who identify as non-binary. that wouldn’t be a group for me to find and relate to and be comfortable with, i’d just be the different one. and i’m already different. and people don’t really get neopronouns and that shit.

ok and i’m anxious about my boyfriend as well. he’s a straight guy, idk how he’d feel about me being non binary. but i don’t want to sacrifice our relationship, so it’d be fine, because i also like my name and pronouns now. i like the shortened version of my name better tbh but i think my name sounds cool. mostly because saying it is a vocal stim for me, same with my partners name fore some reason. i just think they’re good names. they feel good to hear and say. and i’ve always been described that way and i’m like yeah that’s me.

i like dresses. feminine clothes? yes pleaseee. i like how girl are generally the ones who get taken care of. i like feeling small and dainty. i like being silly and cute. but like ... silly and cute arent like “girl things”?? but idk.

but i like “girl”. not “ladies” or “woman”. that feels too much like “female” and the only time i feel like i relate to that at all is in very specific situations. i’m feminine. i like that. i wish i could be feminine in an androgynous way tho????????

TL;DR: closing thoughts. if i were the only person on earth and i could do whatever i wanted like magically. i would change my appearance to look like my picrew... but like for an ex think Crona from Soul Eater of Ed from Cowboy Bebop. both of them are androgynous but when i see both of them i’m like they’re kinda feminine too! like that’s what i want to look like. i’d probably go by Citrus and neopronouns and maybe she/her (they’re fine but i feel like i’m lying about being non binary when i use them). ya know. how i want to be. but in reality. i am scared of that. it sounds like a lot of work and a big change that i could probably never really achieve. i also hate change. and constantly explaining shit.

also do cis people PINE over this shit the way i am? i’ve done this multiple times for years. not consistently bc tbh i have other shit i need to spend energy on but when i’m not pouring energy into somewhere else i tend to circle back to this. maybe that’s a sign that i’m right.