#but there's a level of separation there when it's not someone from your country i guess.

[glamourscat]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ My thoughts on the Itoshi brothers’ dynamic ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

The Itoshi brothers’ dynamic is so damn sad, and it breaks my heart a little more every time I think about it.

The thing is, we know that Rin is deeply upset (and that’s an understatement) with Sae. Sae made him a promise, the one about becoming the best players in the world together. Reading the manga makes you understand that the way Sae says it, it’s meant as nothing more than “child talk.” You know, when you’re a child and you feel you’re on top of the world? Exactly like that. When you feel you’re invincible and nothing can break you.

But then Sae left for Spain, alone. He was still just a kid. We don’t know what happened during his time abroad, but we can speculate that it wasn’t easy. Easy to adapt, given the cultural differences between Japan and Spain. It probably wasn’t easy to understand and come to terms with the fact that he was not “the best in the world” like he used to be in the little team he played for in Japan. He went to Spain, met stronger opponents, and his dream got crushed. From a striker to a midfielder, because he saw better talents than him. Because he was probably made to feel like his talent wasn’t worth even trying.

You can’t tell me that a little boy with so much substance, joy, passion, and determination to become the number one striker is suddenly reduced to nothing but a shell of who he was. Sure, people grow, but we are talking about a massive jump. We are talking about a kid left to his own devices, alone, without a family by his side in a foreign country.

Which leads me to Rin. I understand his anger. The way he feels betrayed when Sae comes back and suddenly it’s not about “us” together, but about “us” separately. I understand the way he felt betrayed because while Rin poured every ounce of his sweat and tears into leveling up for Sae—his older brother had instead “moved on,” logically. While Rin was breaking himself in four to become someone good enough for Sae, keeping the promise they made close to heart, Sae hadn’t thought about it twice.

Sure, you can blame Rin and say he was too naive, too childish. But he was. He was all those things; he was a child. What child, a younger brother at that, wouldn’t take into consideration the words from his older brother? Younger siblings thrive off their older ones, becoming who they are as individuals by looking up to their older siblings, most of the times at least. It’s obvious why Rin chose football and not another sport, for example. Why he stopped receiving presents from Santa at 8 because his brother had stopped at 10—and if Sae stopped, then so would he, despite still longing for presents.

The betrayal hit Rin particularly hard because while he still had no idea who he was or is, he had at least Sae to look up to. And he was under the impression that the two of them would become the best together. But then Sae comes back, and that dream is out the window.

I’m not going to sit here and debate ethics, because morally speaking, neither Rin nor Sae are perfect beings. They are both equally flawed, and that’s what makes this tragic. Fast forward to now, with Rin being 16/17 and Sae 18, this is where the issues flow in.

They are both old enough to know that the words Sae spoke in the past and the present are wrong and hurtful. No, it’s not “sibling dynamics.” You can be as angry as you want with the world, with your sibling. But to speak like that, then pretend nothing happened and genuinely be confused about why your little brother is “acting out” is next-level madness. Last time I checked, we don’t know exactly what type of individuals Rin’s and Sae’s parents are. But, seeing how their kids react to conflict and hard emotions, it’s safe to say they probably aren’t the best parents. And there’s some emotional neglect involved.

Back to what I was saying, when you’re 16 your emotions are so damn high, this is not me trying to excuse Rin, it’s me understanding where he comes from. It doesn’t excuse the type of person he has become. It’s me sympathising with his situation, because when you live in an environment where you’re forced to either survive or get eaten—you choose survival, no matter what it takes to achieve it. He is a nasty piece of work, with his sharp edges, closed off emotionally and mentally. Slightly judgmental and extremely angry. At himself, at everything. His anger, however, doesn’t mutate like Shidou’s into violence on the field. Rin’s anger is thin, at times invisible. It seeps through the cracks and makes him bitter and sorrowful.

That said, when you come to terms with the fact that Sae has no idea on why Rin is so angry at him and the reason for his anger—passing off his attitude and words as simple “teenage angst” — makes me feel many ways, and none are positive. To me, it’s absurd seeing your little brother acting so hostile towards you, seeing the clear signs of anger and frustration but also sadness in him, and passing it off as “Rin is acting out.” How? Genuinely, how?

You see your brother on the verge of screaming at you on the football field, in front of thousands of people present and live during the U20 match, and what do you do? Further insult him? Girl— It’s the way Sae is not even trying to understand. You can think all you want that your brother is going through a phase, and maybe it’s just me, but if I see my younger sibling acting out, I’m going to talk to them. It doesn’t have to be an emotional confrontation per se, but a simple “what the hell is going on with you?” kind of thing. Letting them know that you’re there for them.

But, with the hypothetical scenario where the Itoshi brothers grew up in an emotionally neglectful house, it makes sense why Sae doesn’t even know how to approach Rin. Ultimately, however, the fact that Sae has no idea why his brother is “acting out,” why Rin is just so angry, makes the whole thing even sadder. Because while Rin took everything to heart and that anger, the delusion is slowly consuming him—Sae has no idea what’s going on. And if Rin finds out that Sae doesn’t even know/didn’t even notice, I think it would end even worse than it already is.

There, we will see his anger explode to unimaginable levels. Anger turning into self-destruction. Rin would truly become a shell of himself, unsure of what direction to take. Because how do you even begin to explain to your little brother that his anger, the way he was feeling, wasn’t even noticed or acknowledged by his older brother? How do you even begin to explain that Sae doesn’t even understand why Rin is reacting the way he is? Truth is, Sae is emotionally unavailable, and Rin is a ticking bomb ready to explode really soon.

© GLAMOURSCAT

[latibulater]

im not going to spend too much time after this one post

Treister as this character-figure on the same story level as Jonas Venture. Jonas to Rusty to the twins, Treister to Hunter to Brock. this episode implies a rich history where I'm left thinking that Hunter's insecurities around inner turmoil stemmed from Treister ("Hans Brinker's thumb was stuck in a dike" "Son, whatever depravity you get up to on your own time is between you and your living god") which of course bled down to Brock, who must have tried to block out the fact that his mentor and person he respects most is constantly belittled and degraded as being foolish and girlish ("Wayland Flowers called, he wants his Madame back") because Hunter's entire character, of course, is introduced as a transphobic gag. Hunter can't escape from being a man who wants to be a woman no matter how hard Hunter begs the narrative ("I miss my breasts! Inside of me, there is a woman screaming to be heard."), the very next episode Hunter meets with Treister and is immediately shoved into the role of successor, replacement, and son. Over and over, Treister calls Hunter son, makes regular remarks into homophobic comments, and "Took guts to bust out the nest and go off on your own, son. Took balls to cut off your balls. Even without 'em, you got more true grit man-moxie on tap than any of these "yes" men and bureaucrats been runnin' the place."

Similarly to Rusty, in this regard at least, Hunter was created for a singular purpose and trying to make a new way inevitably results in Hunter right back where he started. Honestly, in the same way I imagine Jonas constantly belittling Rusty over any perceived weakness, I can easily picture a young Hunter being put through hell by superior officer Treister, for the good of god and country and the secret president. And additionally, just like how Rusty says no matter how bad a father Jonas was, he still loved him and misses him and wouldn't be who he is today with Jonas and so he can't imagine ever actually going against his father, Hunter clearly is panicking when he thinks Treister is self-euthanizing.

Even after Hunter lets go of the wheel the first time and Treister yells "What the hell are you doing?! Do not let go of that wheel, boy! There are 2,000 souls on board!", Hunter inevitably lets go AGAIN because he can't bear to hold on while someone he must've cared greatly for climbs into a shuttle-capsule. "Do not kill yourself, you crazy bastard!" "Ain't killin' myself, son." And AGAIN with the BOY. the SON.

And like, Hunter was an open joke for believing in the GCI in the 80s, so why was so many resources, a private office with an escape hatch outside, and a personal hulking assistant given? I can only believe b/c at the time Hunter was still Treister's favorite, still Treister's spy kid and most likely prepped to be his successor, despite the weird results. Then Hunter fucks up with Billy and Phantom Limb and gets sent out of country and is separated from Brock. To me, that reads as Treister getting irritated his "son" is playing dress-up on stake-outs and is getting distracted running around on wild goose chases, and it's time to find Hunter a nice, new assignment away from the only person in the entire OSI to provide back-up and believe in Hunter full-heartedly. Sending Hunter to Guam is Treister's version of sending his unruly "son" to military school, never mind the fact they're all in the military anyways.

Parent belittles non-conforming child, child grows into a bitter angry adult, becomes a parent and slowly has to Detangle and work through their past, even getting dragged back in after believing escape was possible, and now trying to do a tiny bit better by their own children. Not TOO much easier of course, cant get rid of that "walked to school uphill through snow both ways" attitude instilled. i think a main difference is that in the end Hunter was verbally loved by Treister and handed the OSI as a sign of trust, whilst Jonas spent zero screen time ever complimenting or being loving towards Rusty. So this leads to an unequal balance between Hunter and Rusty where Hunter can mind-control and take advantage of Rusty whereas Jonas and Treister were on more even-footing IMO.

Moreso, in "Any Which Way But Zeus", when everyone is passing out and checked out, Hunter is the only one still trying to come up with a reasonable plan but Treister completely interrupts and dismisses the plan out of hand. AND

AND Hunter is the only one given a 'female' code name "Kelly Clarkson", opposed to all other code names "Kenan and Kel" "Matthew Perry" "Orville Redenbacher", EXEPT of course "Topanga Lawrence" (she was an actress). Who was the only other person at the table Treister called a girl/disrespected (from a military masculinity complex)? BROCK. Hunter's protege. Previously, Treister had given a lot of respect to Brock even as a commander to an insubordinate...subordinate. "Still breathing, General Treister, sir.

No thanks to you." "Aw, you're lookin' fine, son." and the following: "Son, I believe your mind has gone AWOL. I shoulda seen this comin'.

Your work's been gettin' sloppy across the board, boy.........Why don't you come back with us so we can find you a nice, new assignment? Maybe somethin' a little easier on the ol' noggin'?"

Then the next interaction they have is Treister realizing Brock not only left the OSI but joined SPHINX with Hunter. That is all to explain why I feel like Treister is directly disrespecting them best he can while avoiding making things personal in front of power players in the villainous community. It's this whole power play exchange that reminds me of a family feud happening in front of company where the father is holding on by the skin of his teeth to not slap his kids.

Moving beyond that, Brock's own issues with masculinity are never brought up by Hunter. He gets the length of his hair mocked by others, is told constantly he's over-compensating, and is emasculated over his role within the Venture family. Never by Hunter, far as I can recall. And personally, I think Hunter nicknaming "boychick" is much softer and more affectionate than "boy" and "son" even because it's a very possessive word.

UMMMM to wrap up this post b/c idrk where I'm going anymore, I feel like Treister was a lot more influential to the background of the show than is obvious upon first viewing because he actually has been around so long and most likely has a very deep complicated relationship with Hunter that appears as Hunter unable to escape expectations of being a good soldier/son which reflects Jonas' relationship with Rusty as Rusty is unable to escape his father's infantilization of Rusty's capability and society's pre-determined expectation of him failing.

GIVE HUNTER A RX FOR ESTRADIOL SEASON 8!!!!!!!!

[vaperarmand]

i'm really glad we're all on the same page about the apprentice. i didn't want to be an accidental catalyst of donald trump/roy cohn rpf but if other people are willing to make that terrible jump well. i'm right there with you

[cyberesc]

BELLYACHE. (PART 1)

pairing: Prohero!kiribaku × Prohero!Reader

synopsis: You were in love with your best friends but were certain they didn't feel the same as they feel for each other, so you did what anyone would do, in an attempt to save yourself from heartbreak, you disappeared from Japan back to your home country after graduation, leaving everyone behind.

+*. • contains angst, slight jealousy (?), reader is a foreign exchange student, krbk and reader are bestfriends, misunderstandings, krbk aren't in an established relationship, required unrequited love, reader runs from their problems, eventual happy ending (poly)

note: this was sitting in my drafts for so long, this series will probably have a max of 3 parts depending on how much angst I wanna cut or include🤭

part 2 | part 3

The halls of U.A. felt more like home than ever, and yet, it was bittersweet. You walked alongside Bakugo and Kirishima, their banter filling the air. Bakugo's gruff voice mixed with Kirishima's hearty laughter—sounds that had become a constant in your life over the past three years. But today, you felt a little distant, not quite part of the trio, more like a shadow trailing behind them.

You glanced at them for a moment, catching the playful glint in Bakugo's eye as he shoved Kirishima's shoulder at a lame joke, and Kirishima's sharp smile that only widened in response. It was a scene you'd grown to love—too much, in fact. A sigh escaped your lips before you could stop it.

I never stood a chance.

That thought had been a whisper in the back of your mind for months, but now, with graduation approaching, it was louder than ever. You saw the way they looked at each other—the subtle glances, the easy smiles, the unspoken understanding that passed between them. It was clear they had something special, a bond that went beyond friendship. And you? You were just a person who couldn't hold a candle to either of them, never quite on the same level.

Bakugo and Kirishima had always had a connection that you could never quite breach, and you've finally accepted that you never would. They understood each other in a way that left you feeling like an outsider, even though you were their bestfriend. But that was all you were, wasn't it?

Bakugo and Kirishima couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in your demeanor. They didn't speak of it, but the thought was there, nagging at the back of their minds like an itch they couldn't scratch. You were a crucial part of their world, a balance to their intense, chaotic energy, and the thought of losing that balance even just a little bothered them more than they'd care to admit. There were feelings that neither of them dared to acknowledge, let alone act on.

Back when you transferred during the first year of U.A, the odds were stacked against you. As a foreign student coming into U.A, you knew you'd have to work harder than anyone else to prove that you belonged there. The language barrier, the cultural differences and the high standards of a prestigious school-all weighed heavily on your shoulders. But you were determined.

From the moment you set foot on the campus, you heard the whispers and curious glances of the other students, but they didn't faze you. Instead, they fueled you. You had to be better, faster, stronger—there was no room for doubt.

Your first encounter with Bakugo happened during combat training as you've been randomly paired up together by Aizawa. You heard what people said about him—about his explosive temper. But you didn't back down, much like you, he fought with the drive to be the best of the best.

The battle was fierce, both of you pushing each other to your limits. Before any of you could push yourselves too far, you were separated with Aizawa's capture scarf. After assessing your fight, it was deemed a stalemate, both of you breathless and covered in sweat. Disappointed with your loss, you felt something shift after your fight. While he didn't want to acknowledge it, Bakugo saw you as someone who could match his fire. From then on, there was a mutual respect between you, even if neither of you said it out loud.

Your encounter with Kirishima went much differently. It was during a late-night study session in the library, weeks after your transfer. You had been struggling with a particularly difficult concept, frustration and anxiety bubbling as time seemed to run closer and closer toward the third exam. Kirishima noticed and without a second thought, pulled up a chair beside you, offering his help with an easy smile. He was to your surprise, pretty patient, explaining things in a way that made everything click. The day after getting back your score on the exam, you gave him snacks from your home country as a thank you gift. That night, not only did you learn about the subject matter—you learned that Kirishima had a heart as solid as the walls he could create with his Quirk. From then on, he made it his mission to include you in everything, making sure you never felt out of place.

From then on, the three of you formed a bond that felt unbreakable.They both came to care for you as one of their best friends, and over time, you started to realize that they were more than just people in your pursuit to prove yourself—they were the people you trusted most.

They understood your struggles and admired the strength it took for you to come this far. Through countless training, late-night study sessions, and quiet moments together, they became more than just classmates-they became your best friends. And you, in turn, became theirs.

Your feelings for Bakugo and Kirishima didn't happen all at once. It was a slow, gradual process. At first, you admired them for their strengths but over time, something shifted. The admiration you felt for them started to evolve into something deeper, something that went beyond friendship.

It was in the small moments that your feelings began to grow. Each moment became more meaningful, and you found yourself looking forward to them, craving their presence in a way that made your heart race.

But it wasn't until an overwhelming sense of doubt started to gnaw at the back of your mind. They were your best friends, you knew how much they value their friendship, not just with you but with each other. The bond you all had was precious and the thought of disrupting your dynamic terrified you. The last thing you wanted was to be the reason for any tension or division.

You had seen firsthand how strong their connection was with each other, how they complement one another in ways that seemed effortless. They had a bond that you feared you could never fully understand or be a part of. So, you buried your feelings, convincing yourself that it was for the best.

It was better to remain their friend than to risk everything for something you knew was impossible.

Graduation day came and went in a blur. While saying your goodbyes to your classmates, you were stopped by Bakugo and Kirishima who had asked you what agency you were joining, both of them waiting for your answer in anticipation, wondering if you'd all fight alongside each other. Your chest tightened painfully as you dodged the question.

You were transferring back to your home country.

The decision was made before your enrollment at U.A. As they looked at you, faces filled with pride after surviving not only high school, but one of the top hero schools in the country (not to mention fighting a literal war before the end of their freshman year). You couldn't bear to tell them the truth-not when they looked at you with warm smiles that made you wish things could be different.

Instead, you left quietly. You'd already packed your things, already arranged your transfer. You didn't even say goodbye in person, just left a message that you were heading back home. It was a wimp's way out, you knew that. You'd always prided yourself on facing challenges head-on, but the thought of telling them you were leaving, telling them you might never see them again—that was a challenge you couldn't handle.

You stared at the message on your phone, fingers trembling as they hovered over the 'send' button. Once you pressed it, that would be it, no turning back.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to be brave and hit 'send': The message was short, deliberately vague, because you couldn't write what you really felt.

I'm heading back home. I'll miss you guys. Thank you for everything. - Y/N

For a moment, you stared at the screen, half-hoping they would reply instantly, asking for more details, demanding an explanation. But the minutes ticked by with no response. Maybe they were busy celebrating, caught up in the excitement of graduation. Or maybe they just didn't care.

You sighed, sliding your phone into your pocket. It was better this way. Easier for them, easier for you.

No messy goodbyes, no tears. Just a clean break.

As you walked away from the school grounds for the last time, from the second place you've called home, you couldn't help but glance back over your shoulder. The massive gates of U.A. loomed behind you, a symbol of everything you were leaving behind.

But you had to keep moving forward. And as painful as it was, you knew you were making the right choice. Still, as the plane took off, lifting you away from the life you'd built, you allowed yourself one final, quiet thought:

I'II always love you both.

Life hit you fast, in the weeks that passed after leaving Japan, you kept busy; getting hired as a rookie at your city's agency, diving into missions, and patrolling the familiar streets from your childhood.

It kept your mind occupied, the stray feelings of homesickness that quietly built up as you left your home to follow your dreams lifted. You were back to the city and its people you grew up with, back to your old roots, to your first home, whom you swore to protect.

But it didn't stop you from missing them. The longing gnawed at you in quiet moments, the ache of being apart from the people who meant the most to you.

Your silence didn't go unnoticed, your old circle of friends, including Kirishima and Bakugo reached out often—texts, calls, voice messages. You knew they were angry that you left, especially without a proper goodbye, but leaving without anyone holding you back was the best choice you could've made.

Ironically the guilt of abandoning your friends slowly pushed you from any sort of contact. You replied at first, brief responses. But slowly, you began to pull back, letting the messages go unread, letting the calls ring out. It hurt too much to hear their voices, to pretend everything was fine when it wasn't.

It wasn't long before you were ghosting them completely, blaming it under the false pretense of a busy work schedule.

Months passed. The guilt of avoiding them weighed heavily on you, but it felt necessary to protect your heart. You threw yourself into your work. You were a rookie after all, and you were determined to make a name for yourself, no matter how slowly you climbed up the ranks, hoping that someday, the ache would lessen.

One day, you received an email for a mission briefing in Tokyo—a high-profile case, something about an undercover mission that required cooperation between multiple agencies. They asked for you and your senior to attend. You weren't expecting anything as you took a plane back to Japan, the city was so large, you didn't think of the possibility of running into your old friends.

Once you arrived, you checked in with your assistant, receiving a tablet with the mission files and your hero badge for easier introduction among the agencies.

As you walked into the conference room, your eyes wandered around the room, taking note of who attended. Your heart stopped the moment your eyes landed on familiar ash-blonde hair.

Bakugo's eyes locked onto you the second you stepped into the room, a mixture of surprise and something unreadable in his gaze. You averted your eyes quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. Of all the people you could have run into, of course it had to be them.

Kirishima arrived a few minutes later, Tamaki and Mirio chatting alongside him. When Kirishima caught your gaze, his face lit up with a grin, waving in your direction. You managed a strained smile, nodding in acknowledgment, but didn't trust yourself to speak.

Bakugo was staring at you intently, his gaze never wavering. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, and it made your skin prickle.

The beeping of a timer indicating the start of the meeting silenced the room. Your hero partner and assistant took the vacant spots on either side of you and you couldn't help but imagine if you didn't leave, maybe you would have been assigned this mission together.

The meeting felt like it dragged on forever. You avoided looking in the direction of either of them, keeping your focus on the mission briefing. When a break was finally called, you stepped out for air, heading for the rooftop to clear your head.

The city stretched out before you as you leaned against the ledge, the familiar sights and sounds of traffic below grounding you. You closed your eyes, breathing in the crisp air, trying to steady your racing heart.

"You've been avoiding us."

Bakugo's voice cut through the quiet, and you stiffened, your eyes snapping open. You hadn't even heard him approach.

"I've been busy." you replied after a moment, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, but didn't turn to face him. *What do you want me to say, Bakugo?"

"The truth would be nice," he said, stepping closer until he was beside you, his eyes locked on your face.

You bit your lip, refusing to meet his gaze. You knew he could see right through you, and you hated it. You hated how vulnerable he made you feel, how just a look from him could unravel all the defenses you'd so carefully built.

"There's nothing to say." you muttered, trying to sidestep the conversation, hoping he would drop it.

"Bullshit." Bakugo repeated, his voice sharp but tinged with worry. He wasn't one to back down easily, and you knew that if you stayed there any longer, he'd pry the truth out of you. "You've been avoiding us for months. You don't just drop out of our lives without a damn good reason."

You could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves, but you kept your back to him, staring out at the city below. "I told you. I've been busy. New city, new job—“

"Cut the crap." Bakugo interrupted, his voice low. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming.

"You've never run from anything. So what the hell is really going on?"

The words you'd been holding back for so long clawed at your throat, but you couldn't let them out.

You couldn't face the possibility that admitting your feelings would ruin everything—whatever was left, anyway.

You thought about the consequences of spilling your feelings. If you said what you really felt right now, what's the guarantee that it wouldn't affect the mission? If your feelings aren't reciprocated, and Bakugo tells Kirishima about your conversation, where would that put you? You couldn't afford to put yourself in that position, risking your focus and letting your team down. They had each other, and you had... well, you had yourself.

You shook your head at your thoughts, forcing a neutral tone. "It doesn't matter. Let's just get back to the meeting."

Before Bakugo could protest, you walked away, your hurried steps putting distance between you and the conversation you weren't ready to have. You knew Bakugo wasn't convinced, but you hoped he'd at least drop it for now. If he kept pressing, you didn't know if you'd be able to hold it together.

The meeting wrapped up eventually, and you made sure to slip out before either Bakugo or Kirishima could catch up with you. Knowing Bakugo, he most likely already told Kirishima about your conversation on the rooftop and you couldn't handle another confrontation, not after the last had left you feeling so raw. You needed time to think, time to steel yourself for the upcoming mission.

You stayed at one of your agency's temporary apartments, the busy life of Tokyo echoing in the night. You tried to distract yourself with preparations, going over the mission details again and again. But your thoughts kept drifting back to Bakugo, to the look in his eyes when he'd confronted you, to the way Kirishima had smiled at you in the conference room like nothing had changed.

A few days before the mission, you headed to the support department to pick up your upgraded stealth suit. The techs had been working on integrating some new enhancements to better suit your Quirk, and you were eager to see how it had turned out. You slipped into the fitting room and pulled on the suit, testing the fit and flexibility. It was perfect, as expected, and you felt a small sense of satisfaction at the way it hugged your form.

As you stepped out of the fitting room, you nearly collided with someone standing just outside. You looked up to find Sero grinning down at you, his usual easygoing smile stretching wide across his face.

"Yo, Y/N! Long time no see," he greeted, giving you a playful nudge.

You couldn't help but smile back. "Hey, Hanta. What are you doing here?"

"Just picking up some adjustments on my gear. Looks like you got some upgrades too," he said, eyeing your new suit with approval.

"Yeah, just some minor tweaks." you replied, flexing your hands and feeling the fabric move with you.

Sero tilted his head, studying you for a moment. "You've been pretty quiet lately. Haven't seen you in the group chat for a while."

You tensed, the familiar guilt creeping in. "Uh, just been busy."

"Uh-huh," Sero said, not buying your excuse. He didn't push, though, just smiled and clapped a hand on your shoulder. *How about we catch up over some drinks? It's been ages since we hung out?"

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I'd like that."

The bar was comfortably noisy, filled with the hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses. You and Sero found a booth in the corner, beers in hand, and settled in to catch up. It felt good to relax a bit, to be in the company of someone who wasn't pushing you for answers you didn't want to give.

"So." Sero began after a sip of his beer, "you gonna tell me why you've been MIA? Or do I have to guess?"

You sighed, knowing he wouldn't let it go. "It's complicated, Hanta."

"Complicated how?" he asked, leaning back in his seat. "Does it have anything to do with a certain explosive blonde and a red-haired tank?"

You winced, "What makes you say that?"

"Just a hunch." he replied with a shrug. "Plus, Kirishima's been worried sick about you, and Bakugo's been, well...Bakugo, but more pissed than usual."

You frowned, your gaze dropping to the table. "I didn't mean to worry them. I just...I didn't know how to handle it."

"Handle what?" Sero pressed gently.

You took a deep breath, the words catching in your throat before you finally let them out. "I...I kinda have feelings for both of them. And I thought...I thought it would be easier to just distance myself. To let them be together without me getting in the way." Sero's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't look surprised.

"So, you just decided to ghost them? Leave the country without talking to them first?"

"It was stupid, I know," you admitted, frustration with yourself seeping into your voice. "But I didn't think they'd understand…I just didn't want to mess up our friendship."

Sero was quiet for a moment, then he sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Y/N, you're way too hard on yourself, you know that? They care about you a lot. And I don't think you're giving them enough credit."

You glanced up at him, searching his face for any sign of judgment, but found none. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe you should stop running and start talking to them." Sero said simply. "You never know what might happen if you're honest about how you feel. And sure, Kirishima and Bakugo have been pretty close, but lately, there's been talk... you know, around the agency."

"Talk?" you asked, curiosity piqued.

"Nothing bad, just...people have noticed that those two seem kinda distracted. And it's not just because of each other, if you catch my drift." Sero said with a knowing look.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. Could it be possible that...?

"No fucking way" you muttered, shaking your head. "They look so happy together. They don't need me complicating things."

"Y/N." Sero said, his voice firm, "You don't complicate anything. You're part of their lives—whether you like it or not. And maybe, you're part of something bigger than you realize."

You fell silent, Sero's words echoing in your mind as you silently sipped your beer. Could he be right? Was there more to their relationship than you'd assumed? And if so, where did that leave you?

The conversation drifted after that, Sero taking your mind off things by sharing stories about the others, filling you in on the latest gossip from your old circle of friends. By the time you parted ways, your heart felt a little lighter, the dread that had been hanging over you for weeks starting to lift.

© property of cyberesc 2024. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/edit/translate/copy onto any other sites.

[thecreelhouse]

I’ll see you in my dreams

Eddie Munson x platonic!reader / Steve Harrington x platonic!reader (this is more Eddie centric though)

WC: 3K+

CW: canon character death, grief, hurt/little comfort, angst, some dark humor, mentions of the afterlife, and the like.

A/N: I started this a while ago to kinda cope with too many losses between last year and this one. I’m not fussing over editing this one, bc it was cathartic to just… get out. Sharing this for the few that were interested, but I get not everyone’s up for a sad fic these days. If you do decide to read this, thank you <3 Tell and show your friends you love them, as much as life allows you.

Title is from I’ll see you in my dreams - Bruce Springsteen (but the live version bc it makes me cry like a baby lmao)

—————

You got the call, while hundreds of miles from home.

It’s not like you knew— not really; this was the one time you weren’t home with whatever latest disaster unfolded in Hawkins. You didn’t know the danger that tried to swallow everyone whole.

You didn’t know someone you loved dearly wouldn’t make it back.

A somber tone weighs heavily on those five words: “Did you hear the news?”

In brighter circumstances, different context in a more pleasant timeline, that question could lead to something good, something worth celebrating.

Instead, those words landed on the opposite end of the emotional spectrum; even with lack of context, your heart dropped as they hit your ears.

Maybe to an outsider, that could’ve seemed like a drastic, overnight change, but deep down you knew that this had been building for much longer than one night.

You knew hearing those words on the other end of a line could send everything spiraling, no matter who broke the news, no matter who it involved, your heart would splinter apart. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Especially not after losing Eddie.

—————

A funeral— a traditional, open casket funeral— wasn’t possible, not when Eddie’s body lay rotting away in the Upside Down. Even if he was brought home, it’s not like Hawkins would welcome a funeral for who they saw to be a murderer; it’d be no celebration of his life, or mourning the good person he was, not with the entirety of Hawkins believing he was practically the devil himself.

Even so, you couldn’t make it home in time for the very hush-hush memorial service, only among close friends, and family, being only Wayne, of course.

Everyone in the party were grieving in their own ways, as people do when losing someone they love, but the loss of Eddie had a twisted spin on it. 

While your friends here saw him shortly before he was killed, before he gave up his life to try helping everyone else, you had no visual closure. That’d be unbearable, probably more-so than how you’re grieving.

Steve, Robin and Nancy saw him before they split ways with Eddie and Dustin; a plan set in motion to take out Vecna required the separation. Dustin might’ve been the one hit hardest, having to watch Eddie run off to do what he believed was right. The kid, who found one of his older brother figures, bleeding out on the ground once the bats were gone.

Dustin, too young to witness such horrors, too young to face such grief over Eddie, too young to lose his life over something no one could wrap their heads around.

Though not a competition in mourning, that kid had to have the worst grief of them all.  

You wondered if the kids on the other side of the country felt such strange, empty “closure” as you did. Though, Mike was the only one out of that group to have any connection with Eddie, being in Hellfire and all.

Then everyone else here, the kids, the older teens— one way or another, little or large, everyone had some kind of connection to Eddie. They all had faced the same living nightmare, even if on different levels, it was all in the same realm of suffering.

Steve, who called you to deliver the bad news, knew very little about Eddie before all of this. Once skeptical of Eddie— and honestly, a little jealous over the way Dustin looked up to him, feeling replaced— towards the end, had hoped if they all made it out alive, maybe the two could be friends. Maybe they weren’t so different after all.

That hope was long gone, now.

And you, what a strange plane of grief you existed on. You left to start life over elsewhere, reluctant to leave your friends, but in need of change. Being away for almost one year, away from your friends, made this loss harder to comprehend.

Eddie would never be home when you’d return. Your mind took that as a “see you soon”, not a “goodbye”; you’ll never see your best friend again, but the distance warped your thoughts into “this is temporary.”

Death is certain, death is final, and you were well aware of that. You often had to remind yourself, though, that he wasn’t just absent because of the miles between you two, but absent forever.

Maybe that’s nowhere near as heavy as the grief everyone else has carried, and will carry until the end of time, but it certainly didn’t make this any easier to cope with.

—————

The quarry seemed like a good, quiet place to cry it out, for some reason.

Lost in your thoughts, daylight slips away; you turn to Steve, who was watching you closely, like you were too fragile to be left alone.

“Hey… you don’t have to stay,” You kick at an empty beer can by your feet, unable to look him in the eye. 

You couldn’t look anyone in the eye since coming home.

“I want to.”

You sigh heavily, “Steve—“

“I mean it. We don’t have to talk, or anything.” His voice is gentle, calm, even through the moments it threatens to break. “I— I’m here for you. We all are. You know that, right?”

You nod, pulling your knees to your chest, staring out at the quarry’s water.

“M’here for you too.”

It comes and goes, fluxes and flows; grief is funny like that. Things you’d expect to weigh so heavily on your heart, don’t; instead, the tiniest details of loss engulf you in what feels like a bottomless lake of dread.

“He did this… really stupid thing, always shoving straw wrappers in my glovebox when we’d grab food somewhere.” You chuckled, already bracing yourself for the inevitable. “On the drive back here, I opened the glovebox for my lighter, and all of these— these fucking straw wrappers, all crumpled up in like… like some damn accordion—“ Laugh wavering by the threat of a sob tightening your throat, you shake your head. “Fucking goofball would say he folded them like that so they’d spring out like confetti. And the fucker was right.”

Steve laughs with you, but it’s somber, and before you realize you’re crumbling again, his arm winds around your shoulders, cradling you into his side. 

“I cried more over that than when you called me with the news.”

He keeps silent, because right now there are no words to bring comfort, not without forcing a positivity neither of you can or want to carry currently. Sometimes having someone to listen is a little more soothing than screaming into the void.

“I keep— I tried calling him. Took a few rings to realize it’d only be his uncle that’d answer. Can’t listen to the mixtapes he’s made me, ‘cause I can’t bring myself to hear his voice on them with his silly intros. But I tried calling him to hear his voice again anyway. My brain feels… broken.”

The sun is fully set now, with a pink-orange hue lingering in the sky, mismatched to your emotions.

“He never got to fucking graduate. This is so wrong. My best friend is—“ A sob slips out as the force of a bleak reality settles in all over again; it gets cozy, makes itself at home in the walls of your shattered heart, when you never invited it in.

Steve’s rubbing your back softly, signaling quietly to continue, if you need. That’s when the shattered debris of your heart crumble further; at this rate, there’ll be nothing left. 

Maybe it’s not so bad being heartless. It’s gotta be easier than feeling … this. 

A double edged sword is the human experience, with it’s cruel lesson of grief, whichever path you take. You could be cold, bitter, but lonely, by not allowing anyone in; it’d save you the heartache of losing anyone you love. But you could also love, and be loved, experience this nightmare of life together, rather than stumbling alone; final goodbyes and a hole in your heart are the price to pay.

Maybe, it’s worth living a life rich in love and community, even if the payoff is a grim one.

“I’ll never see him again. None of us will. I kept staring at the door, expecting he’d walk through the door now that I’m home… use the spare key like he always did, waltz right in like everything’s fine. He was the only friend I had that liked going to concerts, or skipping out on a good night’s sleep to take last minute road trips in that janky-ass van of his.

“Now all we have of him are blurry, out of focus pictures, and notes with his goddamned chicken scratch handwriting. Everything in that DnD notebook he kept, all the campaigns and drawings… all his music, his battle vests—“ You glance up at Steve, finally. “The vest he let you wear, you know how many fucking times he stabbed his thumb sewing those patches? I finally got him a thimble so he’d stop jabbing himself with those whip stitches… for what? Now he can’t even fucking use it.”

The tiniest of details of loss really are the culprit of heartbreak.

It pains Steve that this is just one of those things where he can’t protect his friends from the hurt. He can’t shield you or anyone else from the inevitable heartbreak and unpredictable mourning this has and will continue to bring.

“It kills me the two of you didn’t have more time to get to know each other. You’re both Dustin’s favorites, you were so much more alike than either of you realized.” Rubbing your eyes, you murmur, “You’re both my favorite people, too. And I- I should’ve been here, I never should’ve left—“

“No, we all wanted you to be happy, wherever you went. I’m sure Eddie would’ve kept pushing for you to follow your dreams if you tried to stay.” Steve rests his head on yours; the position is a little awkward, with how you hold one another, but it’s a closeness you need, all the same. “I would’ve, too.”

For a few moments, you sit on unspoken words that come to mind; maybe they’re too bold to speak aloud, but your mouth’s always one to be miles ahead from your thoughts.

“You’re not allowed to die before me.”

It’s almost a silly demand, one that makes him snort a little, pulling back with a confused expression.

“What?”

“I mean it. You, everyone, I can’t handle this right now, how the hell would I handle losing anyone else? I could never handle losing you.”

“I’d never be able to handle losing you, either.”

“Well, I said it first, so wait your fucking turn.”

You glare at Steve, bleary-eyed and appearing just as bad as you feel, falling into a stare-off with him. It doesn’t last long; the two of you burst into laughter, real laughter, over how damn ridiculous that exchange was.

“This— this is fucked up to even joke about.”

“Oh, like dark humor’s not up Eddie’s alley? Please.” Your grins, short-lived, fizzle out, leaving the two of you in heavy silence. You don’t mean to break it, especially with such a naive thought, but you do. “He’s really gone… isn’t he?”

Steve nods with a sniffle, not bothering to pull tissues out of his pocket anymore— if there’s any even left to begin with.

“Y’know… back when my parents were around more, my mom told me something kinda comforting when my grandma died.” With a deep breath, his stare falls to the ground beneath the two of you. “I don’t know if it’s true, but she said that people visit you in your dreams after they pass. Kinda like… like, they’re telling you they’re okay on the other side.”

“Did you see your grandma?”

“Yeah, that night, actually. Maybe it’s some weird, psychological thing, ‘cause that’s kinda what dreams are anyway. Just your subconscious trying to tell you shit.”

You lean back, brow quirked in skepticism. “Since when did you become a dream expert?”

He huffs a laugh, “I got desperate trying to cope with the nightmares. Anyway— point is, I think you’ll see Eddie again. Dustin already saw him in his dreams, said he thanked him for trying to help…” Steve hesitates for a second, finishing, “… and for not allowing him to die alone.”

That just feels like a sucker punch straight to the gut.

“What if it’s just a way to cope?” The brain does some fucked up shit when you’re neck deep in pain; you and the others in the group are all too familiar with that. 

“If it is, so what? You have to grieve, or it won’t get easier. And Eddie might’ve beat himself up for running away, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to leave without saying goodbye. Not to his friends, at least.”

—————

There’s a full moon tonight, with only its light guiding you through the woods, but you don’t feel unsafe. There’s no sense of threats, or danger. Just calm, like you’re supposed to be here. The clearing of the trees reveal Lovers’ Lake, with Eddie’s van parked right at the edge of the water.

Hope floods through you, overflows into unshed tears and a pace picking up, closing the distance. You round one of the open doors of the van, finding your best friend. He strums lazily along the strings of his guitar, worn notebook laying open, with his famous chicken-scratch penmanship, chaotically covering the pages.

Eddie glances up, warmly smiling at you.

“Hey, punk.”

It’s a voice your heart’s been both aching to hear again, and not ready for, not yet. The sight is even harder to take in, overwhelming as you race through emotions rapidly.

But it’s like nothing’s changed. Nothing is different, not for now, at least.

You greet him like you always have, “Hey, freak.” Climbing into the back of the van, muscle memory almost leads you to your usual spot, a mountain of pillows in the van; this isn’t a casual hang out, though, so you settle next to him, legs dangling over the bumper. “You’re really here.”

“Harrington was right, y’know. I had to say goodbye the way we’d both want.”

There’s a light mist that dances along the lake’s surface, blanketing the entirety of it, but it’s soothing to see. The stars above, brighter than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, shimmer and glitter above.

“Yeah, guess we’re not getting stoned though, huh?”

Eddie sets his guitar behind him, sighing heavily.

“Maybe later, way later, when you make it to this side someday.” He throws an arm around your shoulders, giving a squeeze. “It’s not so bad here… but it’s not like I wanted to be here so soon.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t really get to see you before— before—“ Even here, it’s far too painful to say aloud. “I should’ve been here with you, with everyone—“

“You can’t plan your life around death, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, but it’s— I know it sounds silly, but not seeing you… not being here before you l- left… my mind refuses to believe it. I’m never gonna see you again, and my stubborn brain keeps trying to convince itself you’re still here.”

“That’d be denial, I believe.” He tries coming off lighthearted, but it falls flat. “Y’know I’m always gonna be with you, right? All that corny shit, in your heart and stuff, among the stars— whatever you wanna believe, I’m there.” He pinches his thumb and forefinger together, scrunching his face up as he adds, “I’ll even be in the teeny, tiny, little straw wrappers I hid everywhere in your car.”

“Oh my god, there’s more?!” You laugh through your tears, but it fades out fast. “Well I’m a selfish prick and want you here, with all of us.”  Kicking at a pebble, you watch it break the lake’s glassy surface. “How the hell do I keep going without you?”

“I don’t have an answer, but you just… do. Just know it’s not easy for me, either.” Eddie sniffles, then chuckles, “It’s gonna be boring as hell waiting on this side for you guys.”

That finally tugs a hint of a laugh out of you; he squeezes your shoulders again, hand shaking against you. 

“I am okay, though. There’s no angry mob ready to burn me at the stake, and no injuries, no pain. No Upside-Down bullshit, like, at all. And, as a wandering soul in the afterlife, I get to watch all the concerts I want, for free. So there’s a perk at least.” He rolls his eyes with a reassuring smile. “Aside from that… you’re gonna be okay, too.”

Eddie pulls away, reaching in his vest pocket— out fly old, crumpled receipts, loose change, some safety pins and dice; it’s a soothing sight, to see nothing changes one’s character when they make it to the other side.

“Aha!” He pulls out necklace cord, with a guitar pick dangling at the end, showing signs of wear, tear, and love over time. Sliding it into your hand, he pushes your fingers to roll into a fist. “Want you to have this.”

“Wh— but your uncle—“

“Dustin gave him the good one,” He snorts, “but my best friend gets the one with history.”

“Is this gonna be like winning the lottery in a dream, only to wake up, still broke?”

Eddie only laughs harder, smile fond, glassy gaze, a sight you take in, hoping you never forget it after waking up. He tugs you back into a bear hug, grip trembling as you mirror the hug. 

“See you later, punk.” He whispers, voice wavering. “Live a good life for me, alright?”

“Wait, Eddie, don’t— I’m not ready to say goodbye yet!” The world around you dissipates into the mist floating in, taking Eddie with it. 

You jolt up with a gasp, eyes darting around the room for some sort of sign or proof that Eddie never left, that it was all just a bad dream.

But was it really a bad dream? All things considered, even if it’s just a coping mechanism, it gives some closure.

Closure. For your dead best friend.

Sobbing, you place your hands over your face, already anticipating the pounding headache this will give you. Something pokes into your cheek, interrupting your tears.

Unfurling your hand, Eddie’s guitar pick necklace lays in your palm, just as it did in your dream.

“No fucking way…”

Holding it up against the moonlight, sneaking between the blinds, it’s the well-loved pick, scratches, worn edges and all. The way it gleams against the moon’s glow, seeing it clearly, feeling it in your hands, it’s real. And you have no idea how it could’ve wound up here, in your hand, but here it is.

This necklace won’t ease your grief, nor will recollecting the dream with Eddie, but you have the closure you needed to begin properly grieving.

Flicking on the lamp on your nightstand, you reach in the drawer for your journal, scribbling down as much of the dream as you can recall, before it fades away as consciousness settles in.

Steve was right; as shitty as this entire situation is, Eddie is okay.

He may not be here, but he’s okay. And in time, you will be, too.

[beanarie]

here's another scene for the fic i posted a day or two ago. alternate title: rip philip buckley.

the messenger part two

"I don't want to go," Evan said.

Tommy glanced up from the flight listings on his tablet. Since finishing his delayed shower (alone), Evan had perched on the far end of the bed with his back turned. "All anyone there knew was a nineteen year-old who failed at everything. It- It was never home."

Tommy put the tablet aside. "Evan, I don't give a shit if you go or not." That was blunt even for him, bordering on cruel, but Evan gave a watery laugh. He heard what Tommy didn't say. You're the only thing I care about. Make the decision that's right for you.

Evan made a sad sound and crawled into Tommy's arms. "She's going to be so much," he grated out, his head against Tommy's chest. It wasn't comfortable. Evan ran warm as a baseline. Tonight he felt like he had a fever. "I don't think I can handle it. But I can't- I can't do that to Maddie. What kind of garbage person would make her deal with that alone?"

Tommy ran his fingers through Evan's damp hair. "Maddie won't be alone." Her husband was literally one of the best people Tommy had ever met. Howie had grabbed her hands the instant she and Evan had separated, and hadn't let go of her the entire time. He'd still been holding on when they'd left, Evan bringing up the rear toting a sleeping Jee-Yun.

"Not the same," Evan said, which was true, but Tommy didn't care, not right then.

Tommy looked over at his buzzing phone. "Listen-"

Evan didn't shake. He vibrated, a low level hum throughout his body. "Just let me pretend for a minute that we're not going."

"Okay."

One hand made a loose fist, gathering the fabric of Tommy's shirt at the small of his back. "We're gonna stay here on the other side of the country while they bury my dad. I won't have to hear my mom crying like her heart is in worse shape than his was. No one will tell me I'm a bad son who never came to visit."

Tommy rested his chin on the top of Evan's head. An angle his neck didn't enjoy, but it was worth it. "If anyone so much as thinks that in your direction, I will punch them in the throat."

Evan ran his fingers down Tommy's forearm. "They didn't even tell us he was having surgery."

"Would it have helped?" Tommy asked in all sincerity. They'd both witnessed death numerous times. Was it better when loved ones could see the loss coming? Not always.

"I don't know," Evan admitted. "But things were- they were better, you know? We talked on purpose sometimes and it went fine. I don't understand why they didn't at least tell Maddie."

"Do you think she'll try to throw it in your face at some point?"

Evan flinched, proving Tommy's guess had hit its mark. "God, I- I hate thinking of her that way. She's my mom."

"Motherhood doesn't come with emotional regulation, unfortunately."

"She was better," Evan said again. He exhaled loudly. "Maybe it- it won't be so bad."

"Maybe. I'm here regardless."

After a moment of silence, Evan lifted himself up with a hand on either side of Tommy's hips. They kissed quietly, and he laid his forehead on Tommy's shoulder. "What did I do," he asked, almost to himself. "What did I do to deserve you?"

If pressed, Tommy could rattle off a list. But Evan didn't need to hear about his willingness to set himself on fire for someone he loved, or about how he could see in a glance that Tommy was having a bad day, about how quickly he'd learned what Tommy needed at times like those. "You were you. That's all you ever needed to be."

[partywithoutsmiling]

Some musing on the Wanderer!Branch AU

(Okay, bit of a chaotic lore dump incoming, as this is probably the first time I am putting it to words)

Okay, important info first:

I headcanon it that Branch- and thus the other Brozone bros- are half-pop half-rock in their herritage; this headcanon is an old one, ever since World Tour dropped, and honestly only supported by the fact that Total Eclipse of the Heart that Branch sung as trolling is considered a Pop Rock song XD But hey, one doesnt need to have many reasons to make headcanons pff

(I have some tentative lore about his parents- and his grandparents- too, and how that would effect Branch and his Bros growing up, but I will leave that for a separated post)

But anyway, with Branch's Pop side being moderated by his Rock side, he would have always felt a bit out of place among his tribe, even he grew up perfectly happy with no tragedy in his life (I know switching Branch's and Poppy's place when it comes to being grey is all the rage right now, but I still feel most are missing all the necessary nuance to really make it work, but lets not get into that pf)

Obviously, that feeling of not fitting it only got hundred fold worse since his PTSD and him being grey, as Pop Trolls doesn't seem to be known for mental health support. Branch eventually leaving is not him going 'Screw you all, I will find someone who appreciates me' (much like Clay did) but more of a 'I am sorry, I won't get in your way anymore, I wont be a burden'

Basically massive amount of self-loathing and severe lack of self-worth. When Branch had his final breakdown and decided to leave, I don't think it would be with the precise goal of finding anyone (yes, part of him hopes he would be able to find his brothers and at least find closure one way or another, no matter how much it terrifies him).

Honestly, Branch probably didn't dare to examine his decision to leave any closely than he needed to, lest it would stand out to him for what it really was- a suicide trip.

This was Branch that doesnt know anything about the wide, outside world; he knows Bergen Town, knows of the old Troll Tree, and now knows the Forest and their Troll Village. But everything else is uncharted territory for him. He knows of the Neverglades, because of a faint memory of John Dory constantly talking about them when he was a baby, but has only a vague sense which way they are (I headcanon they make up for the border of Pop and Rock territories)

His preparation for the trip was abysmal, and so was his plan in general. He just picked a direction- opposite of Bergen Town, away from them- and started walking. When he first encountered the towering high peaks of Classical Territory, he immediatelly recognized that they can't be the Neverglades- very much not fitting the description that he remembered, so he walked past/around them, smack dab into Country territory.

Compared to others, I don't think the Country Trolls would have been very welcoming to him at the beginning; used to hard life, inhospitable land and abundant death, Branch would be an unexpected disturbance; obviously not a Classical Troll, who borders with them the closest but never comes down from the skies, obviously not a Funk Troll, who with their technological advance might as well be myths at this point- and obviously not a Pop Troll, since he doesnt shower them with obnoxious music and doesnt even look the part.

Had he been at his 100%, they would have probably been quite content to send him packing, figuring he was just a Rock Troll going solo career (little insert headcanon: Rock Troll Rite of Passage is going on a Rock Tour, and sometimes the more adventurous Rock Trolls strays into other territories to bother and cause mayhem other trolls. Barb's Rock Tour was her Rite of Passage, and being a freshly fanged Queen, she took it to another level)

But Branch quite helpfully collapsed on their doorstep, half starving and dehydrated, and they weren't so callous as to leave him there for the elements to take care of him.

Naturally, their help hardly came for free, and even if they didn't ask, Branch would have already feel indebted to them for wasting resources on his wellbeing. A Survivalist himself, he easily spotted the tight budget they were running, and felt guilty for being a burden yet again.

To his surprise, when the country trolls found out he was a hard worker, a skilled architect and wiz engineer, they completely turned their wariness around.

It was the start of his 'finding himself' journey, but for the first time, Branch started to feel... appreciated. Yes, these trolls didn't know him- but they looked at him, looked at what he can do, and called him accomplished; they were praising his skills, and called him valuable.

(But some sense of danger remained with him; as far as he believed, 'Branch' was left behind to rot away in his bunker. So when introducing himself, and habit got better of him, he started with "Bra-" but caught himself and finished "-mble"; and that new name, 'Bramble', stuck XD Still a plant name, still close enough that he can learn to repond to it- and honestly, feels like fits him better right now, as he feel all out of sorts)

It was only the first step, maybe, but it was a step toward feeling that he had some worth.

I think, out of all the Tribes, he stays with the Country trolls for the longest; yes, the life there is hard, but that is perhaps why he feels most welcomed there. There are no useless nonsense parties, no senseless dancing- the times when they can finaly wipe their brow and relax is when the community gathers together and they just... talk. Sit around, share food, look at the stars and reminiscence.

It's all very subdued, and even though Branch is the most obvious outsider ever, he feels like one with the community, and that by itself is already healing a deep wound he didnt know he had.

When the country trolls finally start singing on their good day, Branch is rather taken aback (He forgot, that Trolls are Trolls, and Trolls sing)- but the sombre and slow melody and topic of the country speaks to him, and while he doesnt join- and they dont push him to join- he listens, and he appreicates.

It is with Country Trolls that he heals most of his trauma when it comes to music. His Grandma and his Brothers leaving him are still a big guilt that weights him down- and something he wont address for a long time- but Country trolls shows him that music can be wildly different. He still doesnt sing, but when offered to be taught to play a banjo (XD), he probably doesnt refuse- mainly out of fear of insult, but also because for the first time in his life, he wants to actually try.

As time passes, his more curious side comes out- he asks questions, wants to know everything- up to this point, he didn't even know that the Country trolls were country- and to them it was obvious what they were, so why would they need to introduce themselves?

That line of questioning leads to the explanation of the other Tribes existing, and that each Tribes' music is different.

And for the first time in his life, Branch felt something alien to him- burning Wanderlust. (Bit of his Rock herritage showing, eh? Solo Rock tour, Rite of Passage~?) The thirst for knowledge was always there- after all, his bunker had many journals filled to brim with information about what he discovered in the foods, helpful tips for survival and many plans for inventions- but those were always done out of necessity, discovered and noted down so that he could live another say. Never before he had a desire to discover simply for the sake of discovering.

Never before he also actually felt like he had the option to do so; the world has always been an inhospitable wilderness to him, only filled with a small handful of trolls and a town full of monstrous giants. His childhood was filled with memory of a large iron cage, and that trapped feeling didn't change; after all, his Bunker, for all that it offered him safety, was a different type of cage too. The whole Troll Village- Pop Village, as he learned now- was another cage as well. Gilded one, made of ignorance.

And so he knew his time with the country trolls came to an end- and it was because he grew to respect them and appreciate them, that he doesnt disappear in the nigh and haltingly tells them his decision to leave and explore.

Memories of his Brothers' argument echo through his mind as he waits for the inevitable blow up, but.... he is once again surprised when the trolls just accepts this decision and wish him all the best- going as far as to help him pack- properly this time- and wheedling out of him a promise to check in once in a while, whenever he is in the neighbourhood.

Equipped with a non outdated map, he decides to make visit all the other territories one by one, starting from Country and heading right towards Classical, going around in one large circle around Pop Territory- Going to Techno after Classical, and to Rock right after that. Funk is largely a mystery to him- the Country trolls are at this point content to believe they are just a myth- much the same way a unicorn is to us- but Branch wants to keep an open mind.

After all, he himself had no idea other kind of trolls existed, so why dismiss the Funk Troll existence right away?

His travels to Symphonyville proved to be as challenging as was the start of his trip towards Country territory. Being high in the mountains- higher than anywhere Branch ever went- really showed him that walking is easy only when the road is straight and flat.

The air growing colder and thinning, he probably doesn't make the best first impression neither- especially in his dishevelled state, he is once more mistaken for a Rock Troll, and it takes a gargantuan amount of effort to convince anyone that he is simply there to learn music, and not cause any trouble.

Out of all the Tribes, he would stay with the Classical trolls the shortest. They are strict teachers, and their culture is very frigid and traditional- and Branch knows that he would have to wildly change himself to fit among them. Yet looking around, seeing the tall spires of the buildings around him, he finds he doesn't really want to. The grandiose of everything is rather intimidating- but even if he tried his best, he would never fit well among the classical trolls, always limited by something (like his ability to fly)

And realizes that was okay. That was acceptable. And that the classical trolls knew he wasn't a good fit now, and would hardly ever be a good fit ever- but they never expected him to become someone he is not. He asked them to teach him and so teach him they will- but you cant force a white sheep to grow black wool anymore that you can force a black sheep grow white.

The moment they realize Branch is there to learn and not wreck their peace like wandering Rock Trolls tend to do, they definitelly warm up to him more- but it still with the mildest of disapprovals since compared to them, Branch looks like a scrunkly kitten and all of them are just itching to groom him properly XD

Branch himself is amazed at the variety of musical instruments that exists and very quickly finds that he is not a progidy in plaing them all pff. Wind musical instruments are most likely completely beyond him, and after some attempts gives them up for a lost cause. Percussion fairs a bit better; he definitelly has some idea how to keep a beat and a rhythm, but even there he finds playing piano the most comfortable out of them all, with drums being a close second.

It is with string instruments that he trully shines, especially those that he can play with his own hands, without the need to use a pick or a bow; a tentative hint at his connection to music, the vibrations just send shivers down his spine and makes him feel more close to the sound his playing produces. (Guitar and Harp becoming his favourite instruments from the get go).

Getting to Techno was trickier. Them living underwater makes access to their territory rather impossible- unless Branch happens to meet someone willing to cross then bridge between Land and Sea XD

It makes for a rather convenient introduction for minor genres; the land bordering Classical and Rock seems to be as the perfect land for various minor tribes to cohabit in peace.

Are there Techno Opera trolls? Siren like beings, that found their homes on the deck of boats, sailing from and to an island after island? Techno Classical that built their living on the coast line, wanting to be close to both land and sea?

In any case, Branch discovers that even with music it's not so simple as shelving it into labels, and that it is ever growing, ever evolving. He never manages to actually visit Techno Reef, but he doesnt' need to; compared to other trolls, the Techno Trolls are not insular, and quite happily come to the surface or to the coast, both to vibe with the offshoots of their genre, to discover what they came up with, but also to simply make friends and have fun.

It was the first time Branch encountered a large party not unsimilar to that of a Pop Troll one- and yet for all that the party was just as loud and wild as he was used to seeing, the sight of it didnt really fill him with uncontrollable panic. It definitelly helped it was once again more about the music and the beat itself, and about the mood of the partygoers than it was about the singing; it was about experimentation and trying out new things- and yet not every troll was dancing around like maniacs. They had the stage for sure, and large crowd was gathering there- but there were also the fringe areas and corners, where Trolls just sat and chatted and bopped to the beat. Not forced to do anything they didn't want to, simply allowed to have fun in their own way.

He doesnt really interacts with the Techno Trolls that much, beyond when there is a party happening on the surface. Gravitates more towards exploring the Minor Territory, and discovering that it holds more than just Techno Classical/Opera. Not wanting to stray too close to the border with Pop, he nevertheless encounters encounters various offshoots of Pop as well- and the K-Pop gang as well

This definitelly allows him to learnt that even the Trolls Kingdom are not free of corruption and the bounty hunters are not starving for contracts- crime does happen in the troll kingdoms, and when the local police force comes short, the bounty hunters are the next best thing to employ.

Speaking with the K-Pop gang, he learns- with a bit of unease- that there was an old contract unfulfilled, that searched for all the Brozone Brothers, and thanked his lucky stars he can in no way be connected to them. It was considered a cold one, where there was no hope among the communities of it ever being cashed in- but the knowledge someone was looking for them- specifically for the younger of the brothers (Him, Floyd and Clay) made him wonder who could it be.

(Part of him entertained that it could be John Dory)

(Other part dismissed it right away. After all, JD did specifically state 'Goodbye Forever'- why would he make the effort to employ bounty hunters to find three of his brothers, if he was even alive to do so?)

That meetings seems to set of a string of bad luck- at least, that's how he feels. Continuing down to Rock territory- of which he is most wary (after all, he was constantly being confused for one, and expected to cause mayhem and destruction- so what kind of Trolls Rock Trolls were to earn that reputation?

A very specific kind- wild and chaotic.

Compared to other Territories, no-one blinks when he just walks in and continues deeper into the Kingdom; and he can finally see why he was mistaken for a Rock Troll. Muted colours, sharp smiles and even sharper claws, it was like walking into uncanny valley, where nearly every troll wears his face. At that point, unknown to him, his colours are not completely grey and black, so he is sporting some faint hues, and very quickly learns that thanks to the direction he came from, Rock Trolls think he is from an Offshoot genre; either Punk Rock or Pop Rock (though they obviously hope for the former) They reconsider him to Folk Rock when he brings out softer tunes that he plays on a borrowed guitar; and for the first time in a while, Branch is asked to sing.

He panics, obviously- playing musical instrument is one thing, but getting over his trauma from singing is another- and quite swiftly and bluntly refuses, cringing after to wait for the inevitable "You are a Troll, why don't you sing?"

Only... it never comes. There are shrugs, and one "Cool." and then he just gets invited to an Indie Rock show, and that is that.

Completely baffled at this easy acceptance, Branch agrees out of shock, before he can trully think it through- and realizes it's the first time since he left Pop Village (at this point probably nearly two years ago) that he thinks back on its inhabitants and namely Poppy.

He feels rather guilty, for taking this long to really give them a concrete thought. Like yes, he did think of them at the beginning, when he lived with the Country trolls- but that was only in general way, comparing the different livestyles. He never really chose to think about the people he left behind.

Now, no longer blinded with grief, self-loathing and rampart paranoia, he does remember that not all adults in his life went out of their way to activelly fail him. King Peppy, for all that he was unequipped to deal with Branch's issues, tried to check up on him regularly; his Grandmother's friends or those who knew her, made it their goal to be kind, even if Branch tried to avoid them out of reminder what he caused

Hype, Trickie, Boom and Ablaze were old friends- his childhood friends- the ones he made after his brothers left, and the ones he pushed away after he went grey- and yet they still managed to be around, noticing them from a distance, even as he stopped speaking to them.

And then there was, of course, Poppy.

Just starting to mature when he left, it's not quite a crush that he feels for her (not yet anyway), but there is still some sort of appreciation for her- some part of him, that subconsciously aches at the need to be close to her, and feeling just that bit of her warmth and positivity- one that made him wistfully keep all her invitations and listen to the sound of her recorded voice.

For the first time, he wonders how they reacted to his disappearence. Wonders if they miss him- or if they curse him. If they do both- like he felt conflicted towards his brothers, the older he got and the more obvious it became that they are not coming back.

It was that thought- the comparison to his brothers- that pushed him to hesitantly think about returning back to Pop Village; to his bunker, to his old life- to Poppy.

It was a tentative thought really; truthfully, the desire was a half hearted spur of the moment, and not something he would drop everything for. He didn't miss his old life; where he was the village hermit, the outcast, the weird one. Besides, he just arrived in Rock, and he still had a whole adventure ahead of him, trying to find the Funk trolls.

And so, When in Rome, do as the Romans do- and so Branch steeled himself to attend a party, one that he was specifically invited to; after all, he had been at parties before now, within the reach of Techno Reef, it's not like this one is any different

Only it kind of felt like it- yes, the music was harsher, the beat went harder- but the harmonizing of voices reminded him so close of his own tribe that it just left him feeling jittery- and at first, yes, the party made him tense and hardly participate, but as it went on, song after song, he could feel himself slowly relax.

(Besides, there was something about rock music, that send warmth straight to the core of his being; something about it resonated with him more than any other music did, besides Pop- and where before he fought hard to not allow it to do that, perhaps, just this time, he could try the opposite)

(After all, they were underground, where Branch always felt the safest, and the Bergens had no idea other tribes even existed- he could indulge a little)

Of course, fate has a funny way of entertaining itself, and in the second of his indecisiveness, he gets bumped into and trips and falls- or he would, if pair of hands didn't steady him, and familiar voice asked him if he was okay

And Branch suddenly felt altogether three years old, getting fed empty promise and watching his older brother disappear through the entry to his Grandma's pod

And he is now in present, left staring at nearly 15 years older Floyd, his brother clearly living the best life, happily away from Pop Territory (away from Branch)

His name drops from his lips before Branch can stop himself, and that has Floy pause and squint at him- obviously not recognizing him, obviously trying to place him- before something clicks and his eyes widen and he goes pale

Branch most likely punches him- and then finds he cant stop heaving in fury and goes punch him again, not allowing Floyd a word in (honestly, he is not punching very hard, not apart from that first one)

Of course, Floyd is hardly alone, probably in a band, and his band mates are not keen on having their member be attacked by a random troll

Brawl very easily breaks out- honestly nothing new among the Rock Trolls- and ends up with all of them, especially Branch, thrown in a cell for their troubles, much to the protest of Floyd's bandmates, who curses and claims innocence

For the first time in forever, Branch feels hollowed out; yes, he had been hoping for a closure- but honestly, he had expected to find all of his brothers dead; not finding any of them living happily away, their youngest brother not even a blip of concern in their mind.

He certainly never expected it from Floyd, who essentially lived a stone throw away; who clearly was able to cross the distance it took from Bergen town to arrive in Rock troll's territory, just shy away from the Pop one.

------------------------------------------------------------ This is where I will stop the musing for now XD;

Obviously there are more things to add; Barb would make appearance, not yet as a Queen but definitelly in charge of keeping any Rock Trolls in line (she is not called a Princess because the Rock Trolls don't use that title for their heirs) and while Floyd is aware she is the future Queen, that information doesnt get shared)

The discovery of Funk Trolls still awaits as well, as does Branch's return to Lonesome Flats, as he had promised to do

But that's for the next time :)

[damagedintellect]

Fyodor x reader x Nikolai [Rich kids AU]

💌 Days of our Bungo : Part 2 💌  

Summary: All of your fathers made a pack that whenever they had kids they would marry each other. It sounded like a good idea at the time but when the Sigma family was the only family to have a girl, and everyone wanted a bloodborne heir, things seemed a little complicated. After many arguments it was decided they would wait to see which boy, she, would fall for. Everyone always ends up having a crush on their childhood friend right?

Notes: Guess who had another Bungo dream, it was me! This time around the dream sequence started in the middle and just kept going so ima just fill in the gaps and start from the top.

Tropes: Sigma is your twin, Fyodor x reader x Nikolai, Fyodor is endgame, royalty/rich kids, Childhood friends, Mutual pinning but reader thinks it's one-sided, Nikolai knows its unrequited but he still loves you & Fyodor, eventual 🍋

💌 Word count: 4,812 💌  Part 1 | Part 3

The following semester everyone at the academy would be spending their junior year studying abroad. It excited you greatly. You had always wanted to travel out of the country but never had the opportunity. Every summer you had been busy with Ballet plus you didn't want to be separated from Fyodor or Nikolai. Which reminded you that even Sigma would probably choose to study somewhere else this year. Your heart dropped at the thought. Everyone had a different study of interest. One day in the near future you would all end up going your separate ways. 

Being the Sigma family's heiress you weren’t expected to take over the family business. Unlike your brother you had a certain level of freedom in your choice. The feeling caused you to bite your lip. You liked things the way they were. How could you live without seeing Sigma, Fyodor and Nikolai everyday? You would all be making your choices by the end of the day and flying out as soon as the school could process your visas.

To your surprise Sigma, Ranpo and Dazai choose to study in England. You, Chuuya and Nikolai choose France and Fyodor was going to study in Russia. At the airport you were the only person who was teary-eyed. It was a new adventure and you knew it was going to be fun but you would miss your brother and your best friend. Of course you could alway write to them and they were only a phone call away but it would be different given the time zones and it wouldn't be the same.

The year went by faster than anticipated. You never expected Chuuya to take ballet with you and Nikolai but apparently outside of being there for poetry his brother pushed the idea on him. You would have never expected him to be such a strong dancer but he practically floated with every jump. The redhead even helped you through your French classes. In the end Chuuya ended up becoming a good friend and while Nikolai helped ease the homesickness you couldn't wait to be reunited with your family again. Despite Nikolai being with you in France he decided to take a little detour on the way back. He planned on going to Ukraine to visit his own family. So you flew back home with Chuuya but almost immediately parted ways after landing. Sigma would be returning in an hour or so, with that in mind you might as well wait for him. You sat on a bench zoning out as you heard someone ask you a question.

“дорогая, это место занято?”

You snapped your head around, mesmerized by the familiar voice. Softly you whispered the name of the man you missed so dearly.

“Fyodor?” 

You stood up astonished at how different he appeared. He had gotten taller in your time apart. His hair was also an inch longer than before but you've always liked that he kept his hair long. Fyodor cleared his throat realizing he was still speaking russian.

“My apologies, I forgot you are not familiar with my native tongue.” He set his bag down on the chair next to you and you took that as your opportunity to pull him into a hug while kissing his cheeks out of habit. Your French instructor wanted everyone to greet the people in your class with “La bise” and Nikolai would throw a fit if you didn’t greet him with kisses everyday while you were there. It's kind of been ingrained in your muscle memory for a year now. Fyodor's eyes widened as he tensed slightly but you didn’t notice.

“Fedya I've missed you so much!” You nuzzled into him. This was the best welcome home you could have imagined. “How? How did you know I would be here?”

“Nikolai sent me a letter. He wanted to be here for the reunion but his father wanted him to extend his trip. I had a feeling you would be lonely.” He pulled away smiling as he patted your hair. As you waited for Sigma you both talked about your adventures abroad. Right as Sigma's plane landed Fyodor pulled out a small box.

“In the excitement I nearly forgot. Merry Christmas.”

You stared back at the box frantically. You had forgotten to bring back gifts! Opening the box you revealed a gorgeous locket. “Oh Fyodor, it's beautiful but I don't have anything to give you.” That was something that had completely slipped your mind. You didn’t even think about getting souvenirs for everyone. Now you felt bad.

His hand delicately touched yours as he moved to put the necklace on you. “Well then in exchange for something equally as beautiful, you'll simply have to dance for me.”

You were taken aback by his words as he stood up to greet Sigma. Apparently you were so flustered Sigma even mentioned how red in the face you were. Fyodor only chuckled as you all made your way back to the manor.

After returning from the study abroad classes went back to normal. Only now you would often go out of your way to greet Chuuya since you were both good friends now. On Valentine’s day he asked if you could speak with him in private.

“I'm not one to beat around the bush so I'll just come out and say it.” Chuuya pulled out a box of chocolates and handed it to you. “I like you and after the study abroad I realized I miss hanging out with you all the time.”

You stared back at Chuuya like a deer in headlights. This was really unexpected. You got along just fine but you didn't think it was anything special. You thought Chuuya was a fine gentleman but you don't feel the same way. Ultimately it didn't feel like how you felt for Fyodor and that's not Chuuya’s fault. 

“Oh Chuuya I'm flattered but-”

He held up his hand. “I needed to confess for my sake even if you did return the feelings so don't be goin’ and apologizing for things out of your control.” Chuuya sighed in defeat “You already have a crush right?”

You didn’t know how to respond to that but you felt eyes burning a hole in your skull causing you to turn around. 

“You can come out of hiding now, I know you're there!”

When Fyodor didn’t want to be found he would climb on top of the roof's entryway and lay there watching the clouds. This was the first time anyone's found him out. He smiled of course you'd notice him. Fyodor was about to sit up when another voice joined the group.

“You found me!~” Dazai cheered in a sing-songy tune as he bounced over to the redhead's side.

Chuuya took a step back. “Hah!? Dazai what the hell? I told you not to follow me!”

“But Chuuya was hiding a box of chocolates. I thought they were for me. Plus it's not following If I showed up here first!” Dazai chimed in as he approached you. Swiftly he takes your hand to give it a kiss. “My sweet belladonna, when did you notice I was here?”

To be honest you were dumbstruck when it was Dazai who came out of hiding. “I didn't, I was actually talking about Nikolai. You outed yourself.” Whenever you had the unnerving feeling of being watched Nikolai was always somewhere close by. It was something you surprisingly became accustomed to. 

At first it scared the living daylights out of you. Someone had been following you and you didn’t know if it was a stalker, kidnapper or what. When you expressed your concerns to Nikolai he said that he'd been following you all day but he never saw anyone else watching you. You only laughed at the absurdity. That's when Nikolai started wearing a strong cologne that you swore could be smelled from a mile away. It was less unnerving knowing Kolya was just trying to make sure you were safe, in his own weird way. Bizarre, slightly creepy but ultimately sweet because he's one of your best friends and has come to your rescue once before.

Fyodor frowned, crossing his arms, he should have realized sooner what that smell was but it was fairly breezy and faint enough to disregard. Now that he thought about it he did recall the door opening twice before, but he assumed that the second time he heard the door it was someone leaving. He's relieved that he didn't make his presence known but he does wonder how the two taller men were hiding up until this point. He supposed it didn't matter as long as he stayed quiet but he fears his hiding spot may end up being compromised.

Nikolai ruffled your hair, appearing seemingly out of thin air. “As expected of my little dove,” He paused leaning down into your personal space “Although I was not expecting to hear you have a little crush. Should I be worried they'll steal you away from me.~” 

Nikolai teased you as you rolled your eyes pushing him away. Dazai looked up at the top of the entrance briefly before asking “It's Fyodor right? The one you have a crush on.”

You tensed. Stupid waste of bandages. Of course the person from the detective club would figure it out. You were about to deny the allegations when Nikolai grabbed your hands laughing. “Good luck with that! Knowing Dos-kun, I should be giving you my blessing!”

You groaned “I never said it was Fyodor.”

“You didn’t have to.” Dazai interjected “You always bring handmade chocolates for him each year even though no one can find him outside of class.” Dazai waved his hand around, flourishing his explanation.

Correction, every year, since middle school to be exact. You made chocolate for both Fyodor and Nikolai but while Kolya gladly received the offer you've never actually given it to Fyodor personally. Since this was your last year before university you were determined to find him but then Chuuya confronted you and it turned into this mess.

Dazai pulled out said box of chocolates from his blazer. “When did you!-” You cut yourself off to look through your belongings. Sure enough it was missing. “Whether or not those chocolates are for him is no one's business but mine.” You tried to grab for the box but Dazai held it up higher, smirking. 

Nikolai hugged you from behind resting his chin on your shoulder, preventing you from actually grabbing the chocolates. 

“Awwwww,” He pouted. “And here I thought I was special, I take back my blessing. I don't want to share you with Fyodor anymore!”

Turning your attention back to Nikolai you huffed. “That's a first, usually you're thrilled. Did you hit your head or something?” Brushing the hair out of his face you pressed your forehead against his. It was a little warm but not enough to cause concern but maybe you should bring him to the nurse just in case. Nikolai only stared back at you in disbelief. No witty remarks, no silly gags, just a far off stare. His shift in demeanor went unnoticed by you.

“Yeah maybe you should lay down for a bit.” You were still completely ignoring the fact that Dazai had your gift meant for Fyodor. 

You’ve personally never had many interactions with him but Sigma has complained about Dazai's antics about as much, if not more than Nikolai's. During the study abroad Chuuya would mention the other’s more aggravating qualities often despite the other not even being in the same country.

While Dazai's not a bad guy you still wonder what his goal was. As Fyodor's chronic chess partner there was probably no point trying to figure it out. You'd have to leave it be for now and wait to see if anything comes up later.

As Dazai watched you leave with a suddenly non verbal Nikolai. He grinned up at the rooftop. “It would be a shame for these to go to waste but with your name written on them? I'm afraid they might be too bitter for my tastes.”

Fyodor finally showed himself, leaning over the edge. “Then why get involved? I hardly see the merit in your little show.”

“Let's call it an intervention.” Dazai walked up to him waving the chocolate infront of the russian. “Why keep such a distance if the feelings are clearly mutual?”

Fyodor sighed, grabbing the box. “Again I fail to see why it is any of your concern.” 

His concern was not about the feelings being mutual, Fyodor was always thinking of what could possibly express his feelings on white day. After a lot of thought he determined that gifting you land or a country would be sufficient, but doing so for years in a row would ruin the sentiment and he's aware that you are the sentimental type. Not to mention with your current age and relationship status, it would be misconstrued. So why bother? Fyodor was a patient man and he wanted his profession of love to be perfect.

Dazai chuckled to himself. “I don't think you'd understand even if I told you but let's just say,” He hummed putting his hand under his chin “You're not the only one interested in the Sigma family.” He offered a cheeky grin to the other who was clearly uninterested.

Dazai is right. Fyodor doesn’t understand nor is he that concerned either. The plan has already been set in motion and he wouldn't need to wait much longer. Although like he predicted earlier his spot was now compromised. Which is somewhat troublesome. He'll need to find a new place to hide in the future. Fyodor sighed but didn’t say anything more and left the other two on the roof. He had no business with either of them anyways.

“Hey jackass, are we done here?” 

Chuuya crossed his arms walking up to his partner. When Dazai had approached him earlier even he wasn't sure what the mackerel's plans were but Chuuya wasn't too concerned. It's been hard for everyone in their grade level to watch (Y/N) pine after that anemic bastard for years. Honestly he felt bad but it's not his problem. He wondered if Dazai had the impulse to help or if he was plotting something else.

___

“I've talked it over with Dostoevsky, and after watching you over the years I can only assume you feel the same about this.” He chuckled  a little too giddy for your liking. “We’ve decided that you and Fyodor are to be betrothed and will marry upon graduation!” Your father said it with a big smile despite your clearly shocked expression. Your mind was going a mile a minute with the sudden news. This was probably the worst case scenario. Sure your dad’s heart was in the right place, you knew he would do anything for his little girl but this was pushing the envelope even for him. Did he really have to get involved with your love life? 

“We wanted to make the announcements at the beginning of the year but we thought it best to hold it off until finals were complete since they moved them up a great deal from past years. Although we’ve been mulling this decision over since you were kids, oh how the time flies. My little girl is all grown up now!”

He engulfed you in a hug but what you thought should have been warm comforting words only stirred the dread in your stomach. Since you were kids? Did Fyodor know about this? Is that why no one could ever find him on Valentine’s day, because he knew you were engaged. The more you think about it the more confused it makes you. If that was the case wouldn’t he have talked to you about it or does that mean he didn’t have a say in the engagement either? Would he even want to get married, let alone to you? 

It seemed your father was ignoring your visible distress and was continuing on about the wedding plans. All things you thought you would have a final say in but it seems he’s already done most of the work with that as well. A ring was placed in your hand and you were to start wearing it tomorrow as would Fyodor. This was really happening. By the time you left his office you were at a loss for words.

Sigma caught up to you as you were making your way through the halls and you showed him the ring on your finger.

“I’m engaged to Fyodor.” It was still sinking in and part of you wanted to scream with joy but only just. The other half of you knew that it didn’t matter since Fyodor clearly didn’t feel the same way. If he did want to marry you surely he would have proposed to you himself instead of letting your fathers’ make the declaration. Fyodor knows how much of a hopeless romantic you were for that kind of thing and you know how much the other craves control. Thinking back is that why he gave you his first kiss? Now you were even more embarrassed about that night. 

Sigma looked at you with an incredulous look. He’s known about your crush for years but hasn’t said anything because it’s really not his place to say. “I would say congratulations but you look like you're about to cry and that doesn’t exactly bode well for me at the moment. On either front.” He opened his arms for a hug as you flopped into them. “Why? Did father ask to see you as well?”

“Unfortunately yes and if that’s what he called you in for I can only imagine what business he has with me. For all I know I’ll be arranged to marry Nikolai.” He grimaced just thinking about it. Nothing against Nikolai but he tends to drive Sigma up a wall with his spontaneity. “But that’s not important, why is my dear sister upset? I thought you were madly in love with Fyodor?”

You froze. “Our fathers’ have apparently been planning this for years,” you grew quiet, exponentially embarrassed and flabbergasted that your family knew. “Are my feelings really that obvious?”

Sigma sighs rubbing your back “To everyone but Fyodor it seems. Either that or he doesn’t want to bring it up? You can never tell with him.” You pulled away. That wasn’t very reassuring but it was better, not, to think about it before you talk to the russian in question. Who knows your dad did say that after observing you both it seemed like a logical conclusion, maybe the feelings were mutual. Otherwise you were going to feel like shit knowing that you’re basically taking advantage of him and that your entire marriage would be a sham and just a front for your parents business ventures. 

Now that you’re no longer in the room groveling in embarrassment, you're pretty sure he said something about desiring an heir. Although you don’t want to think about that at all, in fact the thought mortifies you all together. It just makes you feel nauseous without confirming Fyodor’s feelings because what if he views you like a sister and you were expected to make a lovechild together. This was going to keep you up all night. Would Fyodor even bat an eye at the circumstances? You tried to ignore the train of thought pushing less than innocent images of your crush out of your head. It was only the beginning of the weekend but you were already dreading going back to class.

Sure enough when Monday came around it’s all you heard people talking about. Your engagement. The entire student body was in an uproar because you both came to school wearing matching rings. Well, it was that and an article about your family’s merger and that it was rumored to be due to the young love shared between you and Fyodor. Which was a bunch of bullshit that your fathers’ had planned for better business. Honestly you don’t know if it was smart or stupid of them. Although now many things from your childhood started to click into place beginning with your first playdate. You didn’t know what to make of it and you didn’t want to think about it anymore. It was too much for you and you wanted to rip the bandaid off.

When the bell rang you didn’t get up from your desk immediately, you were too tired from agonizing over what you would even say to Fyodor. You rested your head. Arriving at school had been a constant flood of peers congratulating you on your engagement. Girls were telling you that you were so lucky to be marrying one of the most handsome boys the school had to offer. It reminded you that despite Fyodor’s cold personality he seemed to garner a lot of popularity with the opposite gender. So many of these girls, who you've never seen before in your life, were coming up to you expressing their crushes for your fiance and how if they were to lose their chances it should be to you. This all felt like some elaborate prank.

You were dragged out of your thoughts when the murmurs from the hall fell silent. Slowly you turned your head to see Fyodor with a semi uncomfortable expression. It must be from all the attention the two of you were getting. His arm was extended as if he was about to pat your head but he continued to reach out offering to assist you out of your seat. Your eyes were trained on the ring on his finger. It suited him well and even matched your own despite the designs being different. Looking at your own, you only now realize how perfectly it was tailored to your personal liking. It matched the locket you've been wearing everyday. The one that Fyodor gave to you after returning from the study abroad. You wonder who picked out the ring if it matched the locket. Surely not your father. Maybe the Dostoevsky’s had a favorite jeweler they work with. Was that a mere coincidence?

Glancing up at Fyodor again you swallowed hard. This was the first time you've seen him since the engagement. You avoided his eyes directly as the heat started to spread to your face. In turn you didn’t get to witness how Fyodor’s expression softened immensely, finally being in your presence.

“How was your trip?” 

You had tried to get a hold of him when your father told you the news but Nikolai informed you that his father was taking him to attend a business conference out of town and you didn’t want to pester him because it sounded important.

“As expected of a last minute venture.” 

He frowned that you were hesitant to take his hand. Now that you were engaged, Fyodor didn’t feel the need to hold back some of his physical urges towards you. It baffled him that you weren't reciprocating like your usual persona. 

“You haven’t been sleeping well, shall I escort you to the nurse?”

His tone was indecipherable as always. You sighed, grabbing his hand flashing your matching ring to him as he gently brought it to his mouth to place a kiss to the silver band. The action made your heart jump as you looked at him with wide eyes. You could hear the chatter of your classmates resume in the distance. He must be playing it up for the audience but it still managed to fluster you. 

“That's  not necessary!” You exclaimed bashfully before calmly adding. “I-I haven’t been but it's not that important. I, uh, do you mind if we go somewhere else?”

“Of course not my dear. As you wish.”

Your hand burned as he ushered you away from the crowds to the roof. The term of endearment made your heart flutter again. Fyodor checked if there was anyone else around before he motioned for you to sit with him.

Without hesitation you blurted out the demand that has been on your mind. 

“You have to break the engagement.”

Fyodor blinked a few times before retaliating, wholeheartedly unsure as to why you would want him to do so. 

“My my, I've been gone for three days and my fiance has had enough of me.”

The words were exhilarating to say out loud. He had been waiting years to call you his fiance, even though at the moment you appeared distraught. Fyodor shook his head playfully, smiling at you as you huffed. 

“This isn't funny Fyodor, I'm being serious.”

��As am I. Why should I break the engagement? If you have a problem you should take that up with your father?” 

He was trying to avoid how hurt he was at the notion. What happened to your feelings for him? He couldn't possibly have misjudged those could he? Dazai even confirmed them to be mutual unless that was his angle all along. That rat bastard sticking his nose in other people's business. If it wasn't frowned upon he would have him shot, stabbed, drowned and then shot again but this time by Chuuya for meddling.

The way Fyodor spoke so nonchalantly was unnerving to you. How could he be so unbothered? “I tried but he's planned everything to the letter. I didn't even get to choose my dress! So you need to be the one to break it off.” It's bothered you all weekend and kept you up at night. The only way to find out Fyodor's true feelings for you was to see how he reacts to you trying to stop your inevitable marriage.

Fyodor raises an eyebrow before wearing a very careful expression. It was actually Fyodor who made most of those decisions for the wedding. In the back of his mind he was worried that his father would deny his proposal if he didn't see any promise. Nikolai never had a problem being openly affectionate towards you and he knows your father had noticed that as well. Fyodor wanted to make sure he still had a chance to be considered a valuable suitor. He was thinking that at some point you would get to weigh in on the final plans anyhow. He favored being meticulous about those kinds of details, however he must admit that maybe for this instance he might have gone overboard but you deserved the world and Fyodor wanted to provide as much as possible. 

“Is that why you haven't slept? You should try to rest while it's still free period. Our discussion can wait until you are in the right mind.” 

He sounded concerned as he started taking his blazer off while pulling you into his lap. For the first time he didn’t know what to say to make you feel better. His body more or less moved on its own craving the closeness to ease the sting of you not wanting to marry him. What happened while he was gone? Did Nikolai make a move or did someone else capture your heart? Again he immediately blames Dazai for getting involved. Fyodor kissed your forehead holding you possessively against his chest. Where did he go wrong? His plan to win over the adults worked out perfectly. Why were you suddenly giving so much push back?

You were awestruck at the action letting Fyodor move you as he draped his blazer around like a blanket. It felt like this was a dream like you would wake up from this fairytale that your brain knew you craved. The kiss to the forehead plus the way you were sitting, you've always wanted to sit with him like this but it was too good to be real. Since when was he so physically affectionate? It made your heart clench, it was all just an act. Your head was killing you from working overtime. Despite it all you still felt overwhelmingly safe in Fyodor's arms and your eyes fell closed as you got comfortable. You loved him but you hate this.

After a beat Fyodor spoke. “We couldn't break the engagement even if we wanted to, not without destroying the reputations of our family names while we're at it. Would it really be that torturous to be my wife?” 

His words were as logical as ever. At least some things never change.

You didn’t have the strength to reply but you knew he was right. Although his voice sounded strange, you couldn't put a finger on why. The wording was odd even for Fyodor but like he said earlier you probably weren't thinking straight. You nuzzled into him further, not thinking much of it and drifted off to sleep. You already got your answer anyhow. Fyodor doesn’t love you the same way you love him. That was the only explanation. He cares for you deeply but you doubt he loves you as more than friends. It would hurt you if you weren't already prepared for this outcome. You've known for years that he just wasn't the romantic type and maybe that’s why it was so easy to crush on him, because you knew you never had a chance. 

Love, romance, affection? Those were all ideas you wanted. Things you craved to have but the vulnerability that comes with it terrifies you. To lay yourself bare in another's trust. It's why you push Nikolai away as well. He loves you so much and you're mortified to take a leap of faith even though you know he would catch you. He always has.

___

Part 3

Tagslist: @skullyz1 , @tttttttf , @ayameshu

[souperbloom]

5sos!reader is genuinely one of my fav tropes omg?? i would love it if you could do smth along the same lines for luke <3

omg i’m so sorry this took me so long to get out. i was pondering on ways to make it perfect since this was such a general request, (i wrote 3 separate stories and hated all of them) but i hope y’all love what i came up with !!! <3

————

crowd pleaser. [l.h.]

omg i love this gif

bandmate!reader x Luke

in which the final show of tour calls for some ~celebration~

ended this one hella abruptly i’m sorry— i ran out of steam & wanted to get this out LMAO

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, pet names, unprotected sex, mentions of drinking, exhibitionism (kinda)

WORDCOUNT: 3.8k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“How long until soundcheck?”

The disembodied voice gives you a fright, but when you snap around to see your boyfriend standing at the door frame of your dressing room, your startled face morphs into a smile.

“Scared the shit outta’ me,” you mumble, turning the pegs of your guitar until each string was in tune.

“I asked a question,” Luke chuckles, skipping past your chair to lean against the wall across from you.

“Dunno’. Maybe you should’ve looked at the clock before you came in here and bothered me.”

You bite back a smile, finding it hard now to concentrate on getting your guitar in tune. Luke steps behind your chair, anchoring his hands on your shoulders. He starts slowly massaging your neck, pressing his thumbs into the pesky knot that you can never seem to reach.

“Someone’s grumpy today, eh?” You could hear his pout, just by his voice alone.

“Not grumpy, no. Just— tryin’ to get shit done so I have some time to get my shit together before the show.”

Today was the final day of tour. Fifty shows, more countries and states than you could count; it felt surreal to say that you’d been traveling across the world to do what you loved most, let alone doing it beside four of your best friends.

The adrenaline level was high in everyone but yourself. You had decided that today would be the one day where you actually planned out your schedule, to allot some time for the emotions that are bound to flood when you realize that this would be your last time performing with your band for a while.

To put it simply, you wanted to lend yourself some time to cry. In a good way.

“You’re so tense baby,” Luke grumbles softly, digging his thumbs into your shoulder blades, “Want a drink or somethin’?”

“No, I’m good.” You give your guitar one final tweak before setting it down on its stand beside you.

“You sure? I’ll take a shot with you right now. C’mon. Let’s do it. One and done.”

“Luke, please,” you laugh, fully turning around in your seat to give him a good look, “It’s like, 3pm.”

“Hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere. Plus, the boys and I may have already ripped back a shot for some confidence.”

You roll your eyes, and Luke bends down to rest his elbows against the back of your chair. His lips are now level with yours and are just dying for a kiss.

“Confidence? Please. You boneheads would use anything as an excuse to get plastered. I swear, you and Cal would pregame a doctor’s appointment.”

Luke seems to read your mind, as he does quite often, and steals a quick kiss after your rambling is done with. His sandy blonde curls flop in front of his eyes, but you’re quick to tuck them behind his ear.

“Baby, come on. This is the finale. We’re supposed to be celebrating!”

“I think we both know that you and I have way different ideas of what it means to celebrate.”

You couldn’t help being so stubborn, it was instilled in you since birth. But Luke made it his mission, as your partner, to do anything in his power to get you to change your mind. And most, if not all of the time, he was quite convincing.

It takes you a few minutes to stand up, after Luke had kindly stepped in front of your dressing room door to basically block you from leaving. There was virtually no escaping his request for a pre-show shot.

But who says you can’t negotiate?

“Y’know babe,” you begin nonchalantly, twisting a lock of your hair between your fingers as you approach Luke’s large, lanky stature, “I have a proposition for you.”

His eyebrows quirk in challenge, “Alright, sure. Since you won’t do a shot with me— Let’s hear it.”

You take a moment to admire him in his silky black button down. The way his braided silver choker sat just above his collarbone and glistened beneath the overhead lamps was making you swoon. You were the one that got him into wearing jewelry, painting his nails, dousing glitter onto his cheeks and eyelids; a bit of self expression. You’d told him that it would help with his stage presence, which was some advice he definitely needed at the start of this tour.

And of course, he took a liking to it. The same way he did with you.

“What if we did something else to celebrate?”

You step closer to him and press your index finger against his chest, trailing it down and catching it onto the top button of his shirt. His eyes bounce between your wandering digit and your face, as he urges you silently to continue.

“Something else, hm? Like what?”

“We could— pass some time.”

His body tenses up the moment you make a sly effort to undo that top button. Short, staggered breaths begin to leave his throat as you continue to taunt him with your stare.

“I’ve always been intrigued by pre-show quickies.”

Luke’s eyes widened at your brutal honesty, ocean blue pricked with sparkling icy streaks that had undoubtedly shifted into something a bit darker. You bite your lip, he returns, and it takes everything inside of him not to pull you in closer.

“Really?” he stammers slightly, the back of his knuckles grazing your midriff, “Since when?”

“Since I saw how fuckin’ sexy you looked in that shirt this morning.”

Luke smacks his teeth, tilting his head to the side and reinstating that dominant air he holds over you so well, “Well, I’m not— opposed to the idea, baby…”

You hum in reply, the only thing you’re capable of thinking about is how his hands felt crawling down to your hips.

“…But just so you know, we only have about twenty minutes ‘till call time.”

“So you did know how much time we had, you fuckin’ liar.”

He chuckles quietly, before pulling you into him and pressing his body against yours, “I just wanted an excuse to come bother you. You should know me a bit better by now.”

It was getting harder to just stand there and stare at your boyfriend’s pretty face— his big cerulean eyes and deep set dimples that made you want to just grab him by his cheeks and tackle him down to the floor. But you’re stronger than that. You started this dance, so you might as well keep up.

“I think twenty minutes is plenty of time,” you try your best at sounding confident and sensual, knowing that if he were to move his hand an inch closer to your thigh, you’d fold like a wet paper towel.

“Really?” He muses, subtly stepping you back further into the room.

“Yup.”

“You’re awfully confident.”

It was now a battle of who could keep the eye contact the longest without getting distracted. Now that there was a set time constraint, the stakes had raised ten fold.

“I think we could do better than twenty minutes. How’s fifteen? Maybe even ten?”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, gorgeous…”

In a daze, Luke spins you around and suddenly has your back pressed against the wall. You could practically feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs as his hand travels up your chest and loosely grips the base of your neck.

“…You know I like to take my time.”

A quiet moan slips past your lips as Luke begins a trail of sultry kisses down your jaw, to the base of your collarbone. He kept his grasp on you firm, yet still loose enough for you to slip out if need be.

“Mmmh, baby—” you chirp, your head angling back to give him better access to the sweet spot of your neck, “the door.”

He pops his head up for a moment, only to take your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, and stare you down with those cool baby blues.

“The door? Who gives a fuck about the door? Let ‘em hear it.”

You can’t really argue with that, so you just go limp in his arms as he continues to taunt you with his lips and tongue. He takes his free hand and grabs ahold of your thigh to prop it up against his hip.

What was once a journey of hickies and love bites had now transformed into a steamy make-out session. Luke groans into your mouth each time your hips swivel forward to meet his groin— you could barely contain the sounds that were echoing past your lips and bouncing off the walls of your dressing room.

You take a moment to catch your breath as Luke tugs at the hemline of your top.

“This. Off. Now.”

“Mmkay,” you sigh dreamily, following orders as it was now clear that Luke had taken the reins.

You manage to wrangle his lips off of your neck for a moment to allow you to peel your shirt over your head. But that split second felt like an eternity for Luke; for he had been dying to get his hands on you all morning and the last thing he wanted was to bother you.

But once you’d given him the signs that ‘bothered’ is the only thing you wanted to be, he didn’t think twice.

“Fuck, baby— been thinkin’ about you all morning,” Luke mumbles through his teeth, taking in the sight of your bare chest and simple black bra.

“Have you?”

“Mhmm. ‘Been thinkin’ about why my girl’s been so grumpy today. Guess she just needed a bit of attention, hm?”

Luke’s condescending words send a chill down your spine, along with that wandering hand of his. It had traveled towards your navel and hooked to the waistband of your skirt to pull you in even closer.

The only word you could muster was a simple curse word, a ‘fuck’, for good measure. But Luke didn’t seem satisfied with that reply.

“Is my girl gonna talk to me? Or am I just gonna stand here n’ talk to myself until she finds it in her to answer me?”

“Luke,” you whine his name yet still, his thirst isn’t quenched.

“C’mon baby— I know you can do it. You gonna’ beg for me? Like you always do?”

Your eyelids flutter closed in bliss, your hands on their own beating path towards the waistband of his skinny jeans. You could hear him tsk in disapproval before his hand is softly tapping against your cheek.

“Keep those eyes on me, pretty girl. Don’t think you can finish what you started?”

The moment you open your mouth to reply, you’re whipped out of this dreamlike state by a knock at your door frame.

“Ten minutes ‘till stage. We need everyone in the wings for a company meeting.”

The panic in your eyes immediately transfers over to Luke, who had flinched only slightly upon hearing your manager’s voice. You roll your lips inward, fighting a giggle yet still feeling vulnerable from the position Luke was holding you in.

“You got lucky, baby,” Luke leans down to whisper into your ear, “Saved by the bell.”

You eventually find enough confidence to tease, “Who says we can’t finish this later?”

“Uuuughhhhhh.”

He whines into your neck, his head hanging low and knocking against the wall with a disgruntled huff. You could tell by the way his body language changed that he was rather disappointed.

“Don’t whine, you sound like a child,” you giggle, playfully shoving his slouched body and sending him stumbling backwards.

With a bit of a fight, Luke groans, before picking up your shirt and handing it to you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. “Promise we’ll pick this back up later?”

You bite back a smile, and pull your shirt over your head. He physically winces once you fully put it back on.

“I promise. It’ll be like we never even left.”

After a moment of pouting and rolling his eyes, Luke fixes himself in your mirror beside you, gathering his thoughts and shaking his head clear as the two of you bicker about the impending final show.

“Maybe I’ll give you a little special something after the show tonight. My treat,” Luke announces proudly, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“Your treat? I’m intrigued.”

You let your mind run rampant as you sling your guitar over your shoulder, admiring your pretty boyfriend through the mirror as he fluffs his hair and double checks his eyeshadow.

“Mhm. But— only if you’re good. Gotta’ see you giving it your all out there.” Luke takes a wide step to tower over you, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Oh please Luke, I’m always good. Good to you, good to the band— I basically have sex with the crowd every night.”

“Don’t go making me jealous now, baby,” he muses, “I’ll see you out there.”

Luke’s flirty goodbye is topped off with a kiss to your cheek, before he’s saluting you and waltzing out of the door like nothing even happened. You can’t help but stand in his place in awe, fiddling with the neck of your guitar impetuously as the thought of him floods your mind even more so than before.

This was about to be the longest fucking show of your life.

~

It was just about eleven and the show finally had come to a close with an encore.

To say that the energy was through the roof was an understatement; the crowd was consistently feeding off of the band and the last thing you wanted to do was to leave it behind. But, of course, you were dragged away by the fall of the curtains and the eruption of colorful confetti.

You blew kisses, gave hugs, and even managed to find some time to toss a few guitar picks down by the barricade. But what you weren’t expecting was followed after curtain fall, when your boyfriend had decided to scoop you and your handful of picks up bridal style, and run you offstage like a bullet.

“Baby, you were amazing out there,” Luke whispers hurriedly into your ear, still holding you tightly in his arms as he barreled down the hall away from the wings.

“Luke, where are we—?”

Your question is cut off abruptly by him tipping you over and planting you back onto your feet. It took you a second to regain your balance but in the moment that you did, Luke had you pinned against the cinder block wall of the backstage area.

The gaze in his eyes was ravening, restless— his pupils were shaking and his once crystal irises had flitted to a deep indigo hue. Your breath catches in your throat as he tries to collect his own, still carrying the fatigue of running with you in his arms.

“I owe you— something special,” his words are chopped up by staggered breathing, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. You reach up between your temperate bodies to wipe it away.

“You could’ve at least given yourself a minute to relax after the show, Lu,” you console softly, but Luke shakes his head frantically.

“No, no— no. Had— had to get you here. Now. Want you— right here.”

“Right here?” You whisper back, glancing over his shoulder at the empty hallway.

“Yes. Right here. Please, baby. Been dying’ to get my hands on you. Got me so fuckin’ worked up out there… Felt like I was suffocating.”

You watch your boyfriend's face flash a plethora of different emotions; tired, hungry, desperate, lovesick. All of the things you were feeling throughout your little pre-show rendezvous.

“O-okay… If that’s what you wa—”

“Do you want to? We don’t have to, I’m just— I couldn’t wait to touch you, baby.”

His voice trembles as he whines desperately, leaning closer into your ear with each syllable. It’s hard to ignore his vehement pleading, especially since you’d promised to pick up right where you had left off.

As you’re about to give him the okay to proceed, he flushes his body against yours. You could feel the rock solid erection that was held captive by his restricting uniform skinny jeans, and the feeling of it almost brought you to moan.

“Feel what you do to me, gorgeous? Can you feel how fuckin’ hard I am for you? Want you— want you everywhere, baby.”

In a daze you’re nodding and in no time, his lips are on yours like a magnet. It had become a frenzied jumble of clumsy touching and groping in a matter of moments, a few excited giggles slipping past your lips and knocking into his.

“Fuck, baby— So good to me, y’ always are.”

“Luke, please—”

You give him the signal and soon enough, you’re being shimmied out of your panties beneath your skirt.

Luke makes a sly face, taking your lacy intimates and shoving them in his back pocket. “For safekeeping,” he whispers playfully, before pulling you back into that hungry kiss.

His weathered palms traversed beneath your shirt and slid up and down your sides; poor Luke couldn’t decide where to place his hands. But regardless of his indecision, his touch felt transcendent.

“Gonna fuck you so good, pretty girl,” Luke mumbles into your ear, making sure to nip at the nape of your neck and a bit of your earlobe to get your blood pumping.

You could already tell that you were wet. Soaked, even, just by the hurriedness of this all. The rush you were experiencing was feeding into that leftover adrenaline from the show. You truly had zero complaints.

“Oh my God,” you whine, as Luke takes his time to mark up your neck, “Please, baby? C-can’t wait much longer.”

“That’s my girl,” he retorts, taking his hands and cupping your cheeks delicately as your body language begged for the feeling of him, “So polite, like always.”

Your hands had made their way to unzip his jeans and caress his bulge above the briefs that held it, whining softly as your fingertips graze a wet mark left on the fabric.

“Mhhh, messy,” you bumble, slowly tracing your thumb across the spot of precum.

Luke hisses in pleasure, a smile forming at the end of his cry, “See what you do to me? I’m a fuckin’ mess for you, pretty.”

You couldn’t find it in you to respond coherently as he guided your hand to slip his cock from out of his underwear. On instinct, you wrap your fingers around his length and slowly begin to pump him between your bodies.

A moan rumbled through Luke’s chest and suddenly the wetness pooling between your legs was becoming an issue. Each touch of his dick and caress of his hipbone was becoming more and more despairing. Like your essence was simply falling apart beneath his fingertips.

“Gotta get my girl up here,” Luke grunts, moving his hands towards the backs of your thighs and gripping them tightly, “Jump.”

You do as you’re told, jumping up and locking your ankles around Luke’s back as he feeds into your desires with more love bites and bruises. Your back was flush against the wall, with just the right amount of space for Luke to line his cock up with your entrance.

“Look at you. My little rockstar. Put on one show and now you’re lookin’ for an encore?” He jokes with you tenderly, yet the bigger half of you was more desperate for him than anything else.

“What can I say, baby? I’m a crowd-pleaser.”

You steal his reply with a rough kiss, hoping to distract him enough not to let him notice the rips and tears that your nails were dragging along his silk shirt.

He pulls away from you, staring deeply into your eyes like the two of you were the last two living humans on Earth. Your boyfriend definitely had an affinity for eye contact, no matter the scenario.

The notch in his brow deepens as he adjusts your body, prodding your entrance with his tip and drawing a soft whine from your throat.

“So wet for me baby— just couldn’t wait to soak my cock, hm?”

Luke also had a thing for asking you questions, the call and response deeply feeding into his bedroom-dominant persona.

“Yes, Lu— fuckin’ soaked for you. Played the whole show thinking about you fucking me...”

“Is that right?” he quizzes, leaning in quickly to nip at your bottom lip and pull it away from your teeth.

You hiss at the sharp pain, tasting a bit of metallic on your tongue, “Mhm. Honest. Had to give you my all out there. Just like I promised I would.”

“God, you are too good to me, gorgeous,” he tosses his head back in bliss, still blindly teasing your slit, “Bet my girl’s looking for a reward for all this good behavior…”

Right as your lips part to reply, Luke is ramming his cock up into you. You gasp in shock, yet slowly mold around the feeling of him as he roughly bucks his hips against you.

“Holy fuck, Lu— oh my God!”

His teeth sink down into his bottom lip as he begins his jagged rhythm of snapping his hips, his eyes staying planted firmly into yours. It takes everything inside of you to keep your eyes on him; for you know that the last thing he wanted was for you to look away.

“Feels s’fuckin’ good, baby,” Luke groans, holding your hips tight enough to leave bruises in place of his fingertips.

The feeling of his cock pushing in deeper with each stroke had your body doubling over, the air in your lungs being knocked out in time with the tempo that he claimed.

Your body was pushing it’s limits, each direct hit to your g-spot forced low mewls from your chest and serenaded Luke’s desires. He was loving the adrenaline mixed with the overwhelming craving that he had been fighting all night long.

Your breathing in sync was like a symphony, music to Luke’s ears— he couldn’t fathom the thought of saving you for later until he was quite literally forced to. But with each buck of his hips and every single moan spilling from your lips, he soon realized that maybe the wait was worth it.

“Gonna’ cum soon, baby— keep those eyes on me, okay?”

You bite back frantic tears that pricked your eyes, nodding sheepishly as you let him fuck up into you. The only sound you were capable of making was a weak whimper, but Luke didn’t mind.

“Cum on my cock, baby… Fuckin’ soak me—”

“You look so beautiful. My fuckin’ girl.”

All of these silky-sweet nothings were hitting you like a freight train. You were nodding in time with the movement of his hips, your tits bouncing between your bodies and your eyes threatening to flutter closed at just how good he felt filling you up.

You moan again, as does he, and you’re able to read his expression before he’s even uttering the words:

“Gonna’ fill you up, gorgeous. Cum for me, baby?”

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story pt.2

Warnings: cheating, illusions to sex, angst, not BETA'D we die like men.

A/N: It's finally here! Sorry for making y'all wait two extra weeks, enjoy!

MotS Masterlist

Taglist: @vicmc624, @mostlymarvelgirl, @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy, @moonlightreader649, @whattheduckisupkyle, @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan, @mrsbarnes32557038, @imyourbratzdoll

Word count: 1.2k

Within a few days, I'd moved across the country. Even though anyone from Xavier's could fly over without warning, I thought it would be good for me. I wanted to escape Jean and the heartache she brought with her. Jean had everything. I had left, she had Logan, and I'm sure she would find a way to manipulate Scott again. Just like always done.

Given the circumstances, I wasn't looking forward to my return as a teacher. I had worked as a secretary for a lawyer through college to be able to pay for tuition, and I decided that would be my best bet.

I sat in my bed at the hotel, craning my neck at my laptop screen. Finding a job here was a lot harder than I had anticipated. After a few hours, I had finally found a decent opening. It was a higher-level position at a conglomerate major enough for even me to have heard of. I suppose it's not shocking how much the former CEO is always in the news. A fact that makes sense with the understanding that almost every eligible lady threw herself at him and, oh, how could I forget, one of his board members and most trusted advisors had tried to kill him. Twice. 

I set up the meeting for the day after tomorrow, fearing that the next day would be filled with an intense migraine, a common side-effect of driving past 2 A.M. trying to make it to California in the shortest time possible. I got up, placed my computer on the provided desk, plugged it in, and begrudgingly moved to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

The next day came, and for the second time this week, I'd been right in the type of way I loathe. When I got up, I could barely move, my muscles aching after spending the past few days stuck in my car, only taking a few long breaks to get some rest and about a half dozen times each day for food, drinks, and the restroom. Changing into something comfortable, I left my hotel room. The search for a decent coffee shop now beginning.

After about half an hour, I found a place that looked decent enough. I walked in, and it felt like all eyes were on me. The feel of burning gazes, the sudden urge to make myself as small as possible, and the waves of dread crashing down on me. My symptoms of anxiety. An all too familiar feeling. I looked up at the menu, order already in mind. 

 “Hi! I’ll get a hazelnut latte with almond milk if you have it. Oh, and it says on the menu that there’s a white chocolate scone. I’ll have one of those as well.”

 “Okay, an almond-hazel-latte with a white scone. Who’s it for?”

 “Uh, Kyrie.”

 “Okay, Kai. Someone’ll call when your order’s done.”

 “Okay, thank y-“

 “Please, go find a seat.”

I backed away awkwardly. Slightly raising my arms, hands up in thumbs up. I walked away, putting my arms down, looking for a table to work at.

To no surprise, most tables were empty. For those occupied, their occupants were dressed in semi-professional attire, almost definitely catching up before going to work; the separation between their lives and my own shifted into something all the more evident. 

After about ten minutes, a barista called for the fake name I had given them. I got up and grabbed my order.

I sat at a table away from the windows and took out my laptop. I opened my email, checking for any new correspondents, to see almost 200 new emails, over half of which were from Logan and the other teachers of Xaviers. I went to Logan's profile, blocked him, and used the search bar to delete his previous messages. I don't need to read the pity speech of someone who doesn't value me as even a human being.

I scrolled through and saw an email from Scott, an unusual occurrence for him. I clicked to open it but didn't get the chance to read it, the screech of someone pulling at the table's other chair making it exceptionally difficult.

“Why are you- why did you sit down?”

 “I’m hiding from my bodyguard who is very determined to stay aware of my whereabouts. Even if he thinks it’s me sitting with you. He won’t interrupt our conversation. So, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" said a man with dark brown hair in an expensive-looking suit, "You're new around here aren't you?"

Great. Preppy, rich white guy hiding from his bodyguard, the horror. I laid my head on my hand and took a sip of my coffee.

 "And how would you know if I was? My attitude, my dress, perhaps an unusual drained look plastered on my face." A cheeky tone in my voice. It didn't matter if I was exhausted; this could be fun.

 "I was going to say your accent, but sure, let's go with one of those."

 "What do I get?" I took a bite of my scone. It wasn't as good as I had hoped but not far from what I had expected.

 "I'm sorry, pardon?" Moved his torso to face me.

 "What do I get if I don't rat you out?"

"You get a conversation with me, not something afforded to most." He leaned back.

The door rings. A bigger man in a suit with short, curly hair, a goatee, and sunglasses walks in. The man in front of me gives me a slightly urgent stare.

"I want a favor. Anything, anytime. Within reason, of course."

"Okay, fine; that works for me, just well, you know help." His voice was now a low whisper.

"Pleasure doing business with you," I say as I grab him by the tie, pulling him into a kiss. After a few seconds, I pull away slightly. I glanced around the room, my eyes landing on his supposed bodyguard. The man in question was looking the other way, an almost abashed look on his face.

"Wow, I was not expecting that."

"I'd recommend getting used to it, sweetheart."

His bodyguard took a final look around the room, figuring his client was somewhere else. Just as he entered he left, without a single word.

Hearing the door close he leaned back stretching almost, "So, what do you want? Money, political support, a fun time maybe. I mean with the kiss you gave me I would think the last of which."

"I'll pass. I just moved here, and I need a job. So, If my interview tomorrow goes to shit, your company or whatever you do is the backup now. Congrats!" My voice was now full of sarcasm. 

"Hand me your phone, now. Don't be shy." I opened and closed my hand repeatedly to affirm my statement. 

"Pushy, are we?" He sat up lightly and pulled out the latest iPhone. I should have expected that. I grabbed it and slid the lock screen open.

"Really? You don't have a password? Mr.," I paused with the new knowledge of who this man was, "Mr. Stark. Know what? I'll call in that favor right about now."

[mecachrome]

Hi k! I love reading your ojp scholarship, as he has crept up on me and taken over my brain. Weird question but why do you think he picked Lando as his guy to be a bit weird about?

hi anon 🥺 first off thank u for indulging me & also that is not a weird question at all!!!

ok obviously this is just me saying Anything so i apologize in advance T__T but tbh i think a lot of it ultimately goes back to the idea of lando's ~Proximity~ and how a very specific mélange of career circumstance laid out a foundation for oscar's interest extremely early on... which. let me explain!!! more behind the cut:

not to go on too much of a tangent but if you look at the current drivers in f1 who are roughly within a few years of oscar's age and could have feasibly been someone he'd looked up to coming up the ranks, i'd say the cutoff is like, 2018? so the group is basically charles/george/alex/lando, of whom the first 3 were alr in intrepid together (albeit in diff categories) when oscar had barely started karting at all. also alex moved up to single-seaters very early and his career/road to f1 is obviously a lot more complex than the others, so in reality the only ones oscar would have properly "followed" are lando and george, and then having gone through rfm & british f4 himself it makes sense that he'd lean more toward lando.

...idk how to put this succinctly but basically it's Like: so you're a kid in australia who believes in yourself so much you're willing to move halfway across the globe and attend boarding school by yourself while all your friends and family and the World As You've Always Known It grows and changes without you, and the team you're determined to prove yourself at has semi-recently achieved victory with a guy named lando norris, who is now british f4 champion and runs three separate series the same year you move to europe and goes on to win them all, who is extremely accessible on social media and is kind of awkward but charming and uses dumb unfunny gifs that match your level of online humor exactly, and all the while you're learning to navigate a new country, learning what it really means to prioritize the endless grind of motorsport, and you wouldn't dare look too far ahead into the future but sometimes you see him and think if he can keep winning everything then why not you?

So. also i think what always krills meeee about young_814 lore is that you have to really envision what they looked like circa 2016 like they were undersized dweebs for a majority of their lives!!! anyway. but also nasdlfnagk every time oscar is like i thought you were 30 with your goatee going on haha xD it's like U knowww he's flashing back to that image of little baby lando in his mind..... ok i need to relax.

there are of course other people oscar could have been weird about but in the end it's kind of just a Skill Issue thing / matter of attrition. like from the rfm pack max and logan and guanyu never progressed the same way lando did, and you also have to remember that by the time lando was a mclaren junior he was genuinely their Golden BoyTM, and i know we often talk about lando's competency kink but oscar is also similar to that but in like a ........ he needs to respect you on some fundamental level to be obsessed with you. so the fact that he genuinely rates lando contributes (imo) massively to the fundamentals of their dynamic!!!

also tbh to me one of oscar's biggest mental strengths is specifically that he isn't a very sentimental person, as in if he left to another team i don't think he'd be torn up or anything about not having lando as a teammate lol. but i DO believe he's someone who adapts very well to unfamiliar environments and is always willing to match someone's energy/meet them where they're at (again - especially when he respects them), so he's basically the perfect person to vibe with lando's idiosyncrasies and engage in all the lighthearted push/pulling they have going on. because like he genuinely thinks lando is funny and is more than happy to follow along his meandering bantz and the weirder lando is the weirder oscar is in response and that's just how they Work ?__? so At the end of the day it's: oscar was once a teenage boy who followed (still does) at ladbible instagram and watched the same gaming streamers lando likes or whatever and has seen lando grow into the man he is today (way more confident and "visible" and successful, very much a menace, brutally honest as ever) from this Very Specific vantage point of basically the only other junior after lando to have followed the same path to f1 and been Equally as good / achieved the same stock.

*__* does any of that make sense. 

do u ever think about how lando (extensively nurtured by the team as their only junior) and oscar (basically crashlanded belatedly into his seat) are the only driver pairing in team history to have both debuted with mclaren........ do you ever think about how in a way lando's karting success indirectly influenced oscar's move to europe. do you ever think about how if alpine weren't an abject mess we would have never gotten 814 as teammates and lando would have just been Another Guy On The Grid to him........ 😮‍💨

[justanotherpersonwhowrites]

I love being told "this field is not for woman" when I'm struggling to do something I barely watched one time, while a male student can put himself and others at risk by engaging with a horse we were explicitly told to leave alone and not hear anything about not being fit for the field. Or a male student makes the same mistake as I did but for him it's a technical issue and for me it's because of my gender.

And all the comments about the female students "not wanting to do this" or "being too disgusted or scared to do that" when male and female students both chose to get into this. And yeah, there are some female students that jump or jerk away from an animal or get disgusted by something we're doing, but there are also male students who react the same. In fact, a male student once jumped the fence because one of the calves got out of their restraint, but nobody made any comments about whether or not he should be getting into veterinary medicine.

The fact is, with the way universities are set up in my country, lots of people don't end up getting the major they want because your grades kind of force you into a specific field. A lot of the students in my veterinary group wanted to go for human medicine, or computer engineering, or some other field and ended up getting stuck with veterinary medicine because of their high school grades. So, there are an equal number of male and female students who don't actually want to be there, who find animals scary or gross, and who are not necessarily excelling in the practical class. So, if we're being honest, half the students probably "aren't right for the field" simply because it's not what they wanted in the first place, but there's no distinction between male and female in that regard.

And I for one have dreamed of this career since I was old enough to know about it. I've always loved being around animals, used to beg for dogs and horses and take every opportunity I could to volunteer around animals. I don't want people telling me I'm not cut out in my first semester because I'm not a man. Sorry, but did you not see my male peer make the same mistake as me two minutes ago? Why is he more right for this than I am?

Honestly, it's not fair for the female students and it's not fair for the male students either. Because the professor will have them working with an animal that isn't as calm or gentle, and they aren't getting a good experience because they are just as new to this as the female students and shouldn't be forced to work with an animal they aren't ready for yet. While working with horses one of the male students ended up loosing the lead because the horse pulled and he didn't know how to deal with it. Separating between difficulty levels because they're males doesn't make sense on so many levels, and just puts everyone at risk anyway. We're all beginners, I don't see how being a guy automatically gives someone a greater affinity to working with animals.

I'm just so frustrated that I feel like I have to prove myself when I’m just trying to learn.

[hussyknee]

Posted to Reddit midnight last night at 1am:

3am: Facebook post on local help page.

(amount in LKR. I am very poor and unemployed and live with my mother, who is Satan.)

OIC = Officer In Charge

Bindu = Family doggo. Usually a gentle lad who's all bark, but an entire brigade of strange burly men in gear chasing him (as he felt) all the way to his safe spot was too much.

Passa pattha = backside

Mau didn't come when I fed the kits their breakfast before I crashed, and was still nowhere to be seen when I woke up at 1pm in time for their lunch. Had to hobble around the street calling his name for ten minutes before he came barrelling from god knows where, muddy and filthy. Had to wash and scrub him thoroughly. He's always 80% nerves and hyperactivity, but he's really dialed up today so I ended up getting scratched all over.

I discovered I may have been unfair to him. He's absolutely an overdramatic ninny, but I noticed his nails were quite long. He has six scratch baskets and escapes outside more than the other two but all that's done is give him needle claws apparently. He probably couldn't get as good a purchase on the slippery roof sheets as his brother and sister. My poor baby. They're all completely fine though.

I am not. I feel like my arms and legs are about to fall off. I wish they would. My knees are throbbing like they're arthritic again.

Heading off questions:

Why didn't you call the fire brigade in the first place? Because I've been confined by disability and abused by various people my entire adult life and the only people who have ever helped me with my rescues have been kind strangers. Also the emergency helplines in this country are useless. I once called 119 because I thought I was having a heart attack and was told this was the police line and had to call the ambulance one separately. They then called two hours later asking if I still needed the police. The fire brigade was the most positive interaction I've yet had with a state service, and even they usually only respond to pet rescues when it looks like the animal's life is in danger.

How are you poor when you have a three storey house with a maid and driver? My mother has a three storey house with a maid and driver, on account of having made good money for 45 years. We're poor because she saved none of it for retirement. This is South Asia, middle class poverty is when you don't know if you can pay the electric before it's cut off but still have a maid there's always someone poorer than you who needs to eat. It's all very Little Women. The three storey house is a white elephant financial hole that isn't a South Asian thing but a "my mother is a deranged spendthrift" thing. I live in a gothic novel.

Why don't you keep your cats inside? Because we live in a house that's half verandahs and balconies in the tropics and we can't keep it shut on all sides without killing everyone inside it. And, like I said, nobody will lift a finger to help and trying to make any modifications makes my mother scream like a demon from the depths of Gehenna. Of the four other adults in this house, the only one I could get to help me with Mau was the old driver.

How did you get up to look over the wall before the driver brought the ladder up? I got on a chair and climbed onto a ledge off the side, rising on my tip toes and clinging to the wall for dear life. While trying to wrangle a broom on a line and calling and coaxing. For hours. I have balance issues and can barely change a light bulb without help. Was too exhausted to be scared around hour three.

You're being kind of mean to Mau. You'd be terrified too. Yes, but I am not a cat. A cat being scared of heights feels a bit like letting your species down on an existential level. Also I never so much as wanted to yell at the little fucker, sang him lullabies until the firemen arrived, and spent a total of eight hours on my feet until they got him down. I'm still not mad at any of them even when I rue the day some liar told me cats were easier than dogs.

Anyway, all's well in Mau-land.

For now.

[cats-closet]

As mentioned,,,, poly yandere erasermic right but now I raise you, poly yandere erasermic with an american tourist with a cat quirk.

Weird and specific I know but hear me out, the tourist darling in question doesn't have to be american just foreign enough that they don't know a lot of japanese, and cat quirk can be to what ever extent you want but my preference is cat ears, tail, fangs, nails, and pupils. I've considered whiskers and even some level of paw pads but if there's not fur around those it's strange to be yk. ANYWAYS.

Allow me to elaborate on the tourist feature again. For a while I've been considering what erasermic would be like with a darling that just doesn't speak Japanese or at least not very well. This was brought by the fact im leanring Japanese in college and it's very fun to think about Mic trying to first calm you down when they ya know, kidnap you, and then later giving you Japanese lessons so the three of you can better communicate. I'm sure Aizawa would also begin to practice some english as well with Mics help but i lean more towards them having a lot of fun teaching you. Not to mention having lessons and probably homework lends itself to some scenarios if you catch my drift.

It's also an added layer of helplessness because not only would you have more difficulty outside raw in Japan but being in a completely foreign country means it will be difficult for you to get home when the pair confiscate your phone, passport and id. They definitely tell you that a lot as well to make sure you're appropriately discouraged from attempting escape hehe :)

These could be completely separate btw it's just two traits I like to imagine on specifically their darling that makes it more fun and adds some more drama I think,,

Jump back to the cat quirk HERE ME OUT. Obviously Aizawa loves cats and I'm sure Mic finds them cute too. So when say Mic randomly sees you oh my god he HAS to tell his husband. Mic observes you for a while because of course he thinks your adorable and when Aizawa sees you they both start getting some ideas.

They're not the kind of people to randomly kidnap and helpless civilian they find cute but they're still psychotic freaks that watch you for a while at least out of curiosity. Eventually your mannerisms and persona wins them over and they become further obsessed with you for more than just your quirk. Maybe they see you feeding stray animals or maybe confronting someone who was rude to you, depends on you of course and whatever tf you do but I digress.

After you win them over with your delightful personality they kind of go about the same process of abduction as you would for trapping a stray cat. Cats have a natural intuition so instead of ever confronting you face to face they lure you into an alleyway like serial killers before blocking both exits. This is something extremely frightening and you try your best to escape but you're no match for two experienced pro heros. Hizashi is profusely apologizing for scaring you all while they inject you with a sedative to make the trip home easier.

They probably socialize you like a feral cat too now that I think about it but that's a story for another time.

Anyways I like both these concepts separate but something about the two together is rather special teehee

[prima-materia-ttrpg]

Species Highlight - Humans

What if there was a type of creature that enjoyed climbing on things? A species heavily motivated by social bonds and the need to stack rocks? What if I told you this fantasy species exists in Prima Materia? Perhaps you would be surprised that such an interesting and cool species is in the game. Without further ado- here's humans.

Humans on Patek, like humans on Earth, have developed many different groups and cultures over the thousands of years they've been loose. Of course, humans from Earth no longer exist as they died out an impossibly long time ago. Despite their different cultures and practices separated at times by ten thousand or more years of isolation, humans hold a few things in common between them. Their endurance, their ambition, and their ability to pack bond with nearly anything.

Human endurance has no equal among the sapient species of Patek. This is reflected mechanically, giving humans extra Fatigue Points and a bonus to rolls when determining Fatigue Points on level up. Their ability to pack bond with almost anything is reflected by the second unique trait humans get, "Social Creature." When a human thinks it's bonded with someone, whether that be a pet or a person, they get a bonus to protect that creature as well as a general bonus after socializing with them.

Human ambition isn't represented mechanically, but rather through world building and narrative. In particular, I like the idea of humans being uniquely driven to build large things; monuments, pyramids, palaces. They have made some of the most impressive buildings on the planet, and many groups are still trying to one-up another in this regard. In the setting's current time period, the focus is on skyscrapers.

But of course, for everything humans have in common there are a dozen ways in which they differ. And it's the differences that are the most interesting, after all.

Looking through Windows

There are many different cultures and kingdoms of men, so we'll look through the windows of a select few to see what it's like to live there, and what the people are like.

The Northmost points of Eastern Atiyeret are covered in evergreen woods, and half the time covered in snow. Summer beckons the snow to melt the other half of the year, with temperatures in some months reaching above 50F (10C). For thousands of years the people there have done what people do: live and do things. There are several groups of humans in NorthEastern Atiyeret, though they all hold commonalities between them. Many hold the same religion, many raise and ride bearzoi, and many have placed fish at the backbone of their economies. Those who come into contact with the northerners have brought tales both of lucrative trade and of bloody battle. They have a reputation for their brutal martial prowess as they ride fearsome beasts into combat. A reputation shared only by those who ride horses in the west. Most northerners organize into groups based on familial and traditional ties called tribes, where family name is important and in some cases decides what your role in society is. These groups can range from being the size of a small village, to encompassing several towns. Some tribes can get larger, and in the past that's allowed for families to take control and create dynasties.

The human kingdoms of Western Atiyeret consider themselves the pinnacle of modernity. They have railways, textile factories, and tall buildings. One kingdom in particular, the United Kingdom (named such because it was made from several kingdoms which were united under one banner), is a multicultural Cobb salad which in recent years has disrupted many job markets in the name of industrial progress. The trade capital of the country, made the political capital just ten years back, is the beating heart which sends goods by rail and canal to the rest of the empire, from which in return they are supplied with food and other necessities like producer goods and natural resources. The United Kingdom boasts the most skyscrapers in the world, and soon the first glass skyscraper if their king is to be believed.

The last stop on our tour is the savannas of the Atiyeret peninsula. Separated from Western Atiyeret by desert, and Eastern Atiyeret by mountain and steppe, the peninsula was the birthplace of humanity on Patek. In the northern portion of the peninsula, some of the oldest continually inhabited cities stand to this day. Sadhapor is one such city, once the capital of a spanning empire and a hundred things before that, it's not uncommon to see an archaeological dig when walking through the older parts of the city. Sadhapor itself is ruled by two regents who in turn swear fealty to the dual regents of Rajkhari, one of the current nations of prominence in the area. Located at the mouth of the Naronadhi river where it flows into the Khari gulf, it's a major center of trade as evidenced by its world renowned Great Bazaar, a flurry of sounds, smells, and sights of things brought from far and wide to the main street which stretches from Sadhapor's docks to the city center. Sadhapor itself warrants its own blog post.

This is just a small look at some of the more fleshed out human cultures in Prima Materia, there are many others I want to write and bring to a blog post, but this post is already long and is just meant to give you an idea of what humans are like.

Thank you for reading this far, and being patient for this one. Lots of real life stuff(tm) has been happening and it's been a whirlwind. I'm still going to try to write a blog post every week, this is simply what I want to do. Speaking of, next week will be a mechanics post; specifically on all the combat related things I've been cooking like armor, healing, and death.

Playtests are on my site here, and thank you @donutboxers for the artwork.

[kay0783]

I prefer to keep this account separate from politics, just for the sake of mental health and being able to have something that is fun and not serious. However, I really am genuinely confused as to wtf happened tonight in the election.

I was so confident that it would be close and that Harris/Waltz would win in a landslide. Nope. In fact, they lost in a landslide.

I'm having trouble understanding how a CONVICTION FELON who incited an insurrection on the Capitol, threatening to overturn the very right that each civilian in this country (and that was fought for by the Civil Rights Movement and Suffragette movement), which led to multiple people being killed, a shock to the nation, etc. is now back in the very office he was so dedicated to ruining.

As far as I've seen, and from what I've kept up with, he only has *concepts* of a plan. In a country that is so vital in the world and that indirectly affects other nations, you CANNOT have C O N C E P T S of a plan!!! People are struggling to survive, us college students are struggling to get by with the hundreds of thousands of dollars we racked up in debt in order to get an education. Children are years behind in reading levels, education funding keeps getting cut, abortion rights are at stake (regardless of whether or not politicians say they do not plan on banning abortion), lgbtq+ lives will be affected, minority lives will be affected, etc.

What are the plans for Medicare/Medicaid? What healthcare system do you have in mind? How can the middle and working class be relieved of the price gouging and inflation that makes them struggle to pay rent/bills? Our food is basically poisoned, Americans are still dealing with the aftermath of two major hurricanes, mothers and infants are dying at an increased rate after the abortion bans in certain states, the foster care system is STILL screwed, children are STILL being killed in school, Russia wants Ukraine for whatever reason, North Korea is blowing up roads to South Korea for some reason, and for some reason Israel is commiting a genocide in Palestine still. And much MUCH more.

How do you NOT include policies that you plan to enact in your speech? I listened to it all. Family was introduced, a woman I've never heard of was introduced, the future VP talked, some bald guy talked, and there was little to NOTHING SPECIFIC about the policies for this country?!?? There was talk about keeping the promise from the first term. What were those promises? The border wall? What were they? It was never repeated. Then there was rambling about Russia and China. Why speak upon them first, especially when you only have *concepts* of a plan?!?! What about those concerned about the bomb threats? Even though there were no bombs, there was nothing addressed about the fact that someone was trying to intimidate Americans from performing their civic duty (at least from what I heard). Did you comfort them? Encourage them to stay in the polls and make sure their voices are heard? And what about the cheating claims in Philly? It was hardly after PA started returning results!! It's a repeat of the past--claiming fraud because you didn't win in that area.

And the attacks on Harris and how she let people out of jail. Now there's a convicted felon in the office. And what about the economy? It was worse due to the pandemic, which was highly politicized and resulted in so many preventable deaths. At least Harris has a plan. Not just concepts.

To say that I am disappointed is an understatement. Bewildered is more like it. Again, I try to keep this one social media account away from politics, but me and everyone on my dorm building floor were in shock. We know nothing about future policies that will be heading our way. We're confused.