#echoes of you sequel

[levi-venn]

Accolades - Part Two

Timeline: A Year after the final escape from Mount Tantiss.

Summary: Hunter wants to make an Accolades Box for Omega, too, but he needs his brothers' help. Part One | Part Two | Part Three Available on AO3

Note: A special thank you to @dragonrider9905 @yeehawgeek and @cw80831 for requesting a sequel.

A lot of changed after the war ended.

And the carefully decorated boxes Hunter had made for each of his brothers stopped collecting accolades and started collecting dust. 

He couldn’t bear to look at them when Crosshair joined the Empire. 

He thought about throwing them away when Tech fell.

In the end, he hid the lovingly painted boxes in his armor tote. Out of sight…but never quite out of mind.

A year went by.

Pabu was beginning to feel like home. Crosshair had returned to them. Omega was finally safe. Echo visited often. 

For the first time in Hunter’s life, he could think of those five boxes and not feel his heart cave in on itself.

It was time to add a sixth.

Omega and Phee left that morning for a treasure hunting trip and would be gone for the next week. A week longer than Hunter would like, but it was just enough time for four brothers to get together and figure out this whole...arts and crafts thing.

Hunter sent a message to his squad: [We got a Mission, boys . Come on over at 1300]

He quickly added: [A Fun Mission]

Then...he clarified: [It’s for Omega]

Echo replied first: [Roger that]

Wrecker next: [A mission for Omega? I’m in!]

Crosshair gave a thumbs up.

By 1302, the brothers sat in the middle of Hunter’s home, sitting in a circle on the floor, a box in front of each of them. 

Hunter placed Tech’s box in the center of the circle. They had all agreed to keep it closed.

For a long while, no one spoke, quietly looking at each medal and ribbon and the messages Hunter had etched into each.

Surprisingly, Crosshair was the first to speak. “I can’t believe you kept them. You kept mine.” He turned a medal over in his hand, reading the inscription Hunter had carved over the original accolade.

[The most WIZARD precision shot through a tank’s barrel while spitting a toothpick in a clanker’s eye]

“Heh, I remember this mission. I short circuited the droid’s OS with that toothpick.”

“Oh yeah! I remember that! ” Wrecker laughed, punching Crosshair’s arm, earning a quiet, amused hiss.

“I can’t believe you etched over these medals,” Echo said, looking through his pile of medals.

“Hope it's not too sacrilegious for you,” Hunter said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not at all," Echo replied. "I think this is more appropriate than any awards we received on our missions. As an ARC trooper the more devastating our losses, the more medals we received. Really sours the award when its attached to so much death. Trust me, this is better.” Echo read one of his medals aloud.  "'[The most regulation codes recited in an hour]'" He laughed. "I would’ve had hundreds of these medals in Domino Squad.  Thank you for doing this, Hunter.”

“What’s in there?” Crosshair asked, nodding to the box with half a skull painted on top.

“...Nothin’.” Hunter said, scooting it closer to him.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Crosshair sneered, pointing a toothpick at Hunter.

“C’mon, show us!” Wrecker said, and reached for the box.

Hunter snatched it from the circle and hugged it to his chest. “It’s none of your business.”

“Guys, he doesn’t want to-” Echo started, but Crosshair pushed past him to lunge at the box. He bumped Hunter’s arm instead and it slipped out of his hands into Wrecker’s lap.

Hunter dove forward! Wrecker rolled backwards! Crosshair slithered into the fray.

“Boys…” Echo sighed and collected the other boxes before they could get crushed by three grown men wrestling and giggling like shiny cadets.

When the dust settled, Wrecker had Hunter in a headlock while Crosshair perched on Wrecker’s back, gazing thoughtfully at the collection of medals.

“What’s in it?” Wrecker asked, ruffling Hunter’s hair as he kept him pinned.

Crosshair frowned and reached for another medal. And another. And another…

“I told you, it’s nothing,” Hunter grumbled, wriggling futilely in Wrecker’s iron grip.

“You…put the same message on each medal,” Crosshair said.

He didn’t read the inscription aloud.

[This medal is awarded to Hunter for being the proudest oldest brother in this Badass Batch. I love you guys.]

“Wrecker, let him go.” He hopped off his brother’s back and handed a medal to Echo and Wrecker to read. 

“It's the same message on each medal because I felt the same way after every mission," Hunter sighed. "So, go ahead and laugh.”

“You should’ve told us you were doing this,” Crosshair said, handing the box back to Hunter. 

“Yeah! We could’ve made you a medal, too!” Wrecker said, handing a medal back.

"Yeah...well..." Hunter shrugged and looked away. “I didn’t ask you here to make medals for me. I asked you here because I’d like to make some medals for Omega too.”

Wrecker gasped. “Ooh, that's a good idea!”

“So we write anything we want?” Crosshair asked.

“Anything you want,” Hunter said. “We’ll make them together, a daily project, as many medals as we can think of before she gets back. It ain’t a competition, but I’d like to fill it up.” He showed them the latest box with an energy crossbow and white skull painted on top.

“Let's hear our orders then, Sarge,” Echo said. 

“Right,” Hunter puffed up. “Alright, boys, here’s the plan. Wrecker, secure us some bundt cakes from Shep for this week’s end. Lemon for Omega, red velvet for me n’ you, dark chocolate for Crosshair, and confetti for Echo.”

“Roger that!” Wrecker said, and headed off to his solo mission.

“Echo, gather up some construction flimsy and ribbons from Feilo’s shoppe. Yellow and gray color scheme preferred. And we need adhesives, markers, paints, and a few rotary precision tools.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Echo said, and was next to leave.

“Crosshair, you and I are on a scavenger hunt to the junkyard for any materials that look like our old medals. Metal plates, golden chains-”

“Those magnetic rectangular medals that never stuck on our plates quite right?”

Hunter laughed. “Heh, exactly.”

Crosshair got to his feet and extended his hand. “Let's go.”

Hunter clasped Crosshair's hand.

He expected to be pulled up…

…but he didn’t expect to be pulled into a hug.

It was a brief hug. It was a tight hug. And it was exactly what he needed. 

“Thank you,” Crosshair mumbled, releasing him and not looking his brother in the eye. “For keeping my medals, too.”

Hunter put a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming back to us.”

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Ok I’m here 😂 congrats babes!!!

For the jukebox Roulette…it was hard to pick a song but I’m gonna say My Girl by the Temptations with Fives?

Can’t wait to see what you come up with!! 🩵

Hello love @coffeeandbatboys!

THANK YOU so much for submitting a request, and for My Girl, no less. One of my favourite songs!

I hope I did this song justice and I hope I did Fives justice too.

Love oo!

My Girl

Warnings: Not really any, except for feelings, maybe. I'm not sure. Anyway, if I do miss anything, please let me know.

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

Fives didn’t understand it the first time it happened. He’d just joined the 501st, he stood in the hangar after receiving the medal ceremony, when the whole world went quiet and all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat. 

Boom-boom-boom

Boom-boom-boom

Boom-boom-boom

It had a rhythm of its own, a song that called out to him in the quiet. He closed his eyes and shook his head and just like that, the world came to the fore again. He’d been concerned he had picked something up on the Rishi outpost, when he went to Kix for a physical everything came back clean.

The second time it happened, was when he entered the mess hall, his breathing caught in his throat, and his eyes focused on you as you laughed at another trooper’s jokes. 

Boom-boom-boom

Boom-boom-boom

Boom-boom-boom

He shook his head again, and the world came back. Echo tapped his shoulder, making sure he was alright, Fives didn’t know how to respond. Of course, he was alright. At least he hoped he was.

The third time it happened was when you actually directed your smile towards him. The whole world shut out except for that familiar rhythm and your voice. It was a voice that made his whole world brighter, it pushed away his grief, his worries. It was a voice that filled his whole world with sweetness, as long as he heard your voice everything else was fine. 

“Fives!” You called to me, as he just stared at you, you waved your hand in front of his face. “Hey! You okay?”

Fives shook himself out of his thoughts, “Yeah, yeah” he closed his eyes and shook his head, “Sorry, I think I got too used to being on the Rishi moon. It’s taking me some time to get acclimatized to the ship’s gravity.”

You nodded, “I understand, I had a hard time at first when I had to be on a ship full time. Anyway, you came to ask me about making some adjustments to your blaster?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if we could make the grip thinner by a few micrometers.”

“Hmmm, let me see.” You took his blaster, humming as you worked.

Fives became lost in your humming, it was soothing, and full of sweetness. How was that possible? How could it be that just your smile, your voice, even your humming made his world seem perfect?

“What are you humming?”

“Hmmm?” You glanced up to him as you were making notes on your datapad.

“What’re you humming?”

“Oh, it’s a song my dad used to sing all the time. I don’t why but lately I can’t get the song out of my head.”

“Sounds like a nice song.”

“It is. It’s about a guy who has this girl, that makes everything better. Even if it’s cloudy, there’s sun, because she’s there. When it’s cold, he doesn’t feel it because he has her.” You smirked at how ridiculous the lyrics really were, “He goes on to compare how bees are jealous of him because he has so much honey, or how the birds’ song is nothing compared to the song he sings. It’s all because of his girl. It’s sweet, but a little ridiculous.”

You answered your eyes focused on the blaster, as you kept making notes, “Well, from what I can see, I think it’s doable to slim down the grip, but the weight will be off, because it’ll be top heavy, so I’ll have to trim down the barrel as well, to balance out the weight.”

“Why is it ridiculous?” 

“Huh?” You looked back into those warm brown eyes that every clone trooper seemed to have, but his were different. His eyes held a sense of responsibility, a sense of mischievous, but very kind eyes. 

“Why is it ridiculous? I mean isn’t it possible that someone’s world gets turned on its head because of someone else?”

You don’t know why but you felt your heart flutter at his statement, “You saying you’ve had your world turn on its head because of someone?”

“What if it did?”

“Then you’re very lucky, not everyone can experience that.”

He moved closer leaning against the work bench as he kept his eyes on you, “Maybe you just need to listen to your own heartbeat.”

In that moment, the world went quiet for the both of you, all that could be heard were your two hearts beating as one. 

Boom-boom-boom

Boom-boom-boom

Boom-boom-boom

Suddenly your world seemed brighter with him there.

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal @crosshair-is-the-superior-clone @totallyunidentified @griffedeloup @leotatombs @leotawrites

[transmascutena]

Episode 38 // Adolescense of Utena

[steddilly]

I could be writing half a dozen other things right now and instead I'm writing an au for an au where Steve and Eddie are werebats and they're still somehow flirting with each other. What happened to the mermay fic I wanted to write? It's currently drowning in my WIP docs.

[ffs-abalisk]

Probably some of my favorite parts of Echoes of Wisdom is the fact that I can point at all the old dungeon locations and go "Oh yeah! I remember that place" and noting that some of the Still World dungeons have some similarities to them.

It'd be so SO fucking COOL to get a "A Link to the Past" remake in this style. Like seriously that game was pivotal to my childhood development and is one of the most iconic Zelda games of it's time. It's such a shame that newer players don't get to experience it because of it's age.

Like I'm sure there's an emulator out there but still...

Edit: It's apparently playable on the Switch but you need the Nintendo Switch Online + Expansion Pack membership which is like... 50 fuckin dollars per year.

Yeah um.... I'd take an emulator over that thanks lol. It's OLD.

Like Super NES old.

[the-acid-pear]

The thing about the painter analog that people don't get and makes them hate it is that at heart this isn't a serious horror story. This is pure gore not only for the sake of gore but for the sake of camp. Once I was talking of to my dad laughing at the guy who had his face sanded off and he was like yeah not new they did that in Jason already 🙄 which was later reinforced by UrbanSpook admitting this is inspired by those old 80s slasher which should tell you everything.

I'm saying this bc i saw a video pairing it with Playground and the incest game and while I don't know the second I watched a video on playground once and the difference is that that book is trying to tell a story and say something on top of the gore but the later makes it hard to care. Which is kind of the issue another "gone too far" piece of media my beloved A Serbian Film runs into where you cannot take yourself too seriously if you also want to show over the top violence or you'll lose the audience.

OF COURSE there are exceptions like Hostel, Saw and 😏 the human centipede ☺️ (cocksucker for that movie and it's more serious points, though it barely counts bc the gore is very tame save for in 2) and I couldn't exactly tell you what's the difference between what makes them work and what doesn't but still.

But I'm getting off topic I'm not here to say which media is good or not I'm here to point out the painter is not a serious story that asks you to care for the characters it's a over the top schlocky gore that asks you to go GROOOOSS or laugh at the over the top brutality it presents. Which is very standard in horror.

[vaugarde]

watching a video on girl meets world and i hate the dad/teacher character. he sounds like the exact kind of teacher i wouldve had in hs that i wouldve despised

[sinisterexaggerator]

Masterlist:

Bossk:

Skin and Scales (smut)

Poe Dameron:

Got it bad (smut)

Crosshair:

Don't make such a fuss

Echo:

Rebel With A Cause

Hunter:

Uncharted Territory

Wrecker:

I’ll Put It On Your Tab

Tech:

Fair Recompense

**This masterlist is for other Star Wars characters apart from Cad Bane, Shriv Suurgav, and Hondo Ohnaka. It will be added to as I continue to write.**

Return to main masterlist.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

ive written a number of thasmin scenes that echo the 12x7 "ive been where you are" and sea devils beach scene from a number of slightly different angles on yazs emotional position in it, but what i havent done yet is give it a fleabag "it'll pass" sorta vibe where we repurpose "moments change" to turn it into an expression of disillusionment

[deejadabbles]

Hello hon! For the writers asks, how about E for Echo and Comms and W

Fanfic ask game!

Thank you Beth! <3

E: If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it be about? Oooh that's a good one! So, the main story (or at least how I have it planned in my head) does cover quite a bit of the main clone wars/bad batch time line, but, if I were to write a sequel to it, it would be in the rebels/OG trilogy era. Echo and the reader would be older of course, but still fighting the good fight, they're the rebellions power couple because they've been married for years and are still madly in love. Echo is the leader of a special ops unit who runs some of the rebels most delicate missions, reader is of course still in communications, decrypting imperial intel and making sure the empire can't intercept their own transmissions. The other rebels joke that you're guaranteed to find them necking in some corner every time they reunite after a mission, but no one stops them because love like theirs is part what the rebellion is fighting for <3

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones? I would say, usually, more general ones, just because my brain goes in such wild directions and once it latches onto an idea it can be hard to think of anything else, so I never want to feel like I’m not sticking close enough to the more specific prompts ya know? However, I am not opposed to more specific prompts to keep my thoughts on course lol

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

ECHO SQEUAL?! can i get some context please ma'am? if you've already talked about this and I missed it I'm sorry you can just ignore this <3

ECHO SEQUEL BABE

I think I've mentioned it like....twice?? in passing. Just like...nonchalantly lol so like completely understandable if you missed it.

But yes!! There will be a sequel!! And it's got a title:

I am super excited about it. I have to work out a few things plot-wise and what I'm going to include and what I'm not. But I do know a few things: Bea Dearing will FINALLY be making her appearance, Ronnie will be pregnant with their first pup, and Werewolf Hunters are in Marnmouth.

Realistically, I won't be writing/posting this until summer! I hope everyone will be able to wait that long for more content from this universe!

werewolf!topgun taglist cause.....well, cause Important and Cool:

@blue-aconite @darkestbeforethedawn16 @supernaturaldawning @illisius @hope-love-equality2 @wanderingdetectives @sqrlgrl22 @dempy @theforevermorereject @the-untamed-soul @emandems10 @xxshea-barnesxx @piceous21 @sopheeg @ollyoxenfrees @luckyladycreator2 @newlibrary @himbos-on-ice @gigisimsonmars @agentminnesota187 @indynerdgirl @mellark-studio @smoothdogsgirl @kkrenae @laracrofted @mayhem24-7forever @abaker74

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

STAR WARS JUKEBOX ROULETTE

Main Master List   |  AO3 Link

Original Post

How Long Will I Love You? (Obi-wan x reader)

Ordinary Day (Dogma x reader)

Enter Sandman (Hunter x reader)

Ceilings (Crosshair x reader)

My Girl (Fives x reader)

Catch Me (Hunter x reader)

Here Comes The Sun (Tup x reader)

The Alcott (Hunter x reader)

Just Pretend (Mayday x reader)

Maneater (Crosshair x reader)

Kiss & Tell (Obi-wan x reader)

Glowing In The Dark (Rex x f!reader)

The Next Ten Minutes Ago (Echo x reader)

Come What May (Obi-wan x F!reader)

Sweater Weather (Tech x reader)

Brotherhood (Rex, Fives, Hardcase & Kix)

Can't Catch Me Now (Crosshair x reader)

Never Knew I Needed (Echo x reader)

Song of the Ancients (Rex x reader)

Return to Love (Hunter x reader)

The Death of Peace of Mind (Fives x f!reader)

Somewhere Only We Know (Gregor x f!reader)

In A Week (Crosshair x reader)

[good-beans]

I'm curious, what would your ideal FE be?

And do you have any particular FE concepts in mind?

Ooh thanks pal this was really fun to think about 👀

So, I don’t think it’s what you meant, but my ideal FE game would be a spin off game of only the Deliverance getting into lighthearted shenanigans after the war. There’s enough dungeon exploration and dealing with the remainder of monsters/terrors left by Duma to keep the battles consistent, but it’s mostly just cute supports and everyone having a good time :’) 

And there is one concept idea I’ve been toying around with a bit – it’s basically the dual-path style of echoes meets time travel without any actual time travel that hurts your brain lol

Tracking the Valentia/Valm similarities between fe13/15 brought me so much joy, I think it’d be super cool having a game set up to focus on that. Specifically, I’m thinking of that movie Your Name (spoiler warning for that). The game would focus on two leaders who suddenly gain the ability to communicate with one another. Maybe they even do a full body swap? Or they swap places and never actually meet each other, but meet the army the other is leading? I'd need to weigh the pros and cons of the specifics

Each mc learns to care about the others they are meeting, becoming invested in the others' adventures even though they are confused by the strange country. At some point it’s revealed that they actually live in the exact same kingdom, just separated by thousands of years. Looking closely, you start to notice exact consequences from one plotline to another: in one chapter you plant a tree and in the future it’s big enough to be a whole map location; you decide to leave a volcano alone and that place is completely wiped off the map in the future; etc. 

After the reveal, there's a lot of fun you can have with the armies. There can be a manakete character who’s in both groups, but has clearly overcome whatever they were struggling with in the past. There can be great-great-etc-grandchildren in the future army with obvious resemblance to their ancestors. You can have the past army start making purposeful decisions to help the others, burying chests with weapons and aid.

I remember being shocked in Your Name when it was revealed the protagonist you’d been following all this time was killed in the past, so it was unavoidable. Awakening has proved they can write a heart-wrenching “fate is not set in stone” theme, so I’d love to replicate a twist like that. The future army just checks their history books and realizes the army they’ve been communicating will falls in X battle or is betrayed by Y ally, then is unable to reach out to warn them. Though, if they did warn them, would their timeline cease to exist? Should they warn them? 

I was originally picturing the main characters as ancestors, and their related bloodline allows them to communicate/body swap. However, it is fe, and I'm not immune to the potential for a sort of forbidden-love-across-time thing!

[juniper-tree]

I recently read the entirety of your fic 'These Wild Fires' and it blew my mind. your writing is fantastic. the way you write characters makes them genuinely feel like fully fleshed-out human beings, your descriptions of scenery are evocative and beautiful, the way you convey tenderness and intimacy gives me goosebumps. your fic has found its way into the deep recesses of my brain and will stay there for... probably the rest of my life. thank you so much for sharing your writing with the world.

Thank you so, so much. Both for reading, and for this message. It truly means a great deal to me. This is something I will try to remember during all-too-frequent dark moments. I love that story immensely and shamelessly. It is one of the happiest outcomes of my life to have others enjoy it, too. Thank you ♥♥♥

[funsizedcrow]

had a dream that i played echoes of wisdom last night...

[andypantsx3]

contents: general bakugou x princess reader; fem + afab virgin reader. nsft; oral (f receiving) & missionary. semi-sequel to this drabble. 3.2k.

Your wedding day arrives far earlier than you are prepared for.

It’s a tense affair, for you at least. The country depends on it, and you feel the scheming eyes of the nobility hot on your skin as you pronounce your vows to Bakugou. They will not take kindly to your having chosen him over their sons and brothers, over their own desire to rise to power. There will be a price they will want you to pay, soon enough.

The chapel is resplendent with sumptuous decor, the court in their finest. But the room is fringed with Bakugou’s men in their military leathers, a reminder that this is not a happy day, but rather a dangerous political stunt. It keeps the noble houses docile while they are in the room with you, but you know they will return to their estates and their plans. 

Your fate is in Bakugou’s hands, now, in more ways than one.

The ceremony is dizzying, and impossible to wrap your head around. The preceptor pronounces Bakugou your prince-consort, ostensibly to remain so while you assume the throne after your father’s passing. You will continue to rule him as his sovereign. But your vows to Bakugou also promise him your obedience as his wife. 

It is a contradiction, an impossible trap, the very reason why the general is the only man you could stomach the thought of marrying. If a husband is to rule you after all, Bakugou will do so justly. 

The thought does not stifle your nerves, however, as you make your way back down the aisle, sit down to the reception, and take your meal. A disquieting, anticipatory feeling settles over you, fizzing under your skin. You barely pick at your dinner, and drink too much of the wine.

You can tell Bakugou notices, scarlet gaze ever-perceptive, though he does not say anything until you are shepherded to the bridal suite to consummate.

Various aides try to follow you in to prepare you, but Bakugou slams the door closed on them, propping it shut with one broad shoulder. He barks at them to scram.

“Lord General—that is, Your Highness,” one of them stutters through the door. “We are required to witness the consummation—to verify that it is complete.”

A bolt of shame goes through you at this, and you catch hold of one of the intricately-carved wooden bed pillars. Bakugou grunts, holding the door closed with one palm while spinning to the nearby dressing table and chair. He grabs the chair, wedging it forcefully up under the door handle.

“You’ll be sure of consummation when I’m done here,” he growls through the door. “Don’t need you little fucking perverts making eyes the whole damn time. Now beat it.”

A weird sound escapes you, something between a gasp and a laugh—at his promise, at his gruffness.

“Your Highness,” comes a plaintive entreaty through the door. Bakugou slams a fist against it, and you hear a squeal and a sound like someone’s fallen over their feet.

An absurd laugh seizes you, and Bakugou eyes you pettishly.

“The fuck’re you laughing about,” he says, but there’s no heat in it.

Your fingers twist on the bedpost, nervously tracing the lines. “You’re taking to your new post well.”

Bakugou’s features twist into something dangerously satisfied, a smirk painting his mouth. Your breath comes short.

“My post,” he echoes, raising an eyebrow. “As your husband.”

Your stomach swoops. The disquiet flames back to life under your skin, settling heavy in your gut like a stone. 

“I supposed it is a post like any other,” you say, fixing your gaze on the ground. “There are responsibilities and… marital duties.”

You hear the soft tread of Bakugou’s boot as he steps away from the door, the rustle of his doublet as he draws closer. His many medals and ceremonial sword belt clink softly. It is a fashion you know he does not prefer, always living in his shirtsleeves—the better to fight in, to train in.

A calloused hand takes your chin, tipping your face up to his.

“You nervous, Princess?” he asks. His tone is obnoxious, as usual, but his crimson gaze traces your face.

You barely suppress a shiver under his touch. Your stomach churns with a thousand emotions and you find you don’t know how to feel. Relieved that you’ve made it this far. Annoyed with Bakugou’s composure and general manner. Apprehensive about what is to come. And warm, suddenly, all over. You do not want to examine why.

“Nonsense,” you sniff. 

A feral smile curls the corner of Bakugou’s mouth like he sees right through you. “You’ve never been with a man.”

Your face burns but you force yourself to return Bakugou’s assessing stare. “I’ve never been to Musutafu, either, but I know it well enough. I should think I am… prepared.”

Something hot alights in Bakugou’s gaze, burning like a coal. It’s not unlike how he looked at you that night in the dark outside his chambers, when you’d first come to him with this wild proposal.

“And what do you think you know,” he says, flatter than a question.

Your nose grows hot. “Enough.”

A thumb slides along your jaw, settling against the pulse in your neck. “Answer the question, angel.”

Your face just might be on fire. You steel yourself, reciting dispassionately. “You will undress me and then… enter me. I shall lie still—they say you can breathe through the pain and it will go away after some time. You will… work yourself to completion. And then we shall be done.”

A snort comes from Bakugou. “Is that how you royal tightasses do it?”

You feel your eyes narrow. “That is how everyone does it.”

Your ladies in waiting had been very emphatic. All of them had spoken of the same mechanics. The initial discomfort, the pain, the way a husband moved upon his wife until he was satisfied.

“You don’t know shit, Princess,” Bakugou says.

You reach up to pull his hand from your face, but he tenses, arm growing solid and immovable. 

“Explains why all you nobles are such fucking tight-buttoned pricks if that’s how you’re doing it.”

Your reply is startled out of you when his hand finds your waist. You take a step back, and then another, startling again when your back finds the wall. Bakugou follows you, eyes hot.

“You are insufferable,” you inform him hotly. “I am sure of the matter.”

“You’re always sure of a lot of things, Princess,” he says. His hand is back at your waist, and suddenly all your skin feels too hot and tight, stifling like a velvet dress in summer.

“I am sure you are the most obnoxious man on earth,” you say. “Now be quiet and commence with it. Let’s have done with it.”

Bakugou’s face is suddenly closer than you’d remembered it being.

“I’ll have done with you alright,” he says. “But I’m not gonna do it like you little uppity prudes.”

You find you can’t think of what he means, all of your thoughts clouded with his proximity, the feeling of his hand moving to your skirts.

“I—but there is only the one way,” you manage. None of your ladies had mentioned anything else.

Bakugou’s mouth cuts into a smirk again, and you hate him for how pretty it is. 

“We’ll fuckin’ see about that,” he says.

And then his mouth is pressed to yours. 

It’s nothing like the stilted peck you’d been obliged to give him at the ceremony—one that still left your face burning, for some unknowable reason. This feels entirely different in its intensity. Bakugou’s mouth is hot and soft and tempting and eager, and your body thrills with it.

Every inch of your skin feels like it zings with lightning when he licks into your mouth, and he presses you harder into the wall. You feel his groan all the way down to your toes.

“B–akugou,” you pant when his mouth leaves yours, only to stifle a yip when he moves down to your throat. He sucks a mark there, laving over it with his tongue, and you feel like you're melting in his hands. “That’s—not my—ah!—mouth,” you manage.

The tiniest scrape of teeth has you yelping again, and you find yourself clutching his bicep for purchase.

“No shit,” he says, leaving another mark lower, mapping his way towards your chest. Calloused fingers come up to cup one of your breasts, thumb swiping over your nipple through your stays. You catch hold of his hair, yanking a fistful of that flaxen blonde, clenching your thighs together.

“What are you doing?” you hiss. 

Bakugou looks up at you, expression annoyed. “Consummating.”

“But you’re not undressing me,” you say. “And shouldn’t we—on the bed?

Bakugou raises a blonde eyebrow. “They tell you it needs to be on a bed, too?”

You blink, momentarily disarmed. It was quite literally called sharing the marriage bed—where else were you supposed to do it?

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same thing?” you eventually ask him.

Both of Bakugou’s eyebrows shoot for the moon, and he looks very suddenly like he wants to laugh. A grin yanks at his mouth, sharp and beautiful.

“I knew you’d be a fucking handful,” he says, his tone somehow both annoyed and delighted. “Don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about and you’re still trying to give me orders.”

You yank at the fistful of his hair you’re still clutching and he hisses, hand shooting out to grab yours. He works your grip off of him, pinning your wrist to the wall. The air in the room suddenly feels a hundred times thicker, like trying to breathe through honey.

“Listen closely, Princess,” he tells you, leaning in. “We're going to consummate, alright. But I’m not just gonna squeeze my eyes shut and stick it in. I’m going to do what I want first, and you’re going to be good and let me.”

Your face ignites in flame. You want to disagree reflexively. “If it’s going to be painful I’d rather just have it over with, if you don’t mind,” you say.

Bakugou stares back, scarlet gaze roving over you. “It’s not gonna be if you shut up and let me do what I want.”

You blink. You hadn’t heard that there was a way around the pain—why hadn’t anyone told you?

“I—really?” you ask.

Bakugou nods. “Really.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well then… you may proceed, I suppose.”

“You suppose,” he echoes, staring you down. The look on his face makes you want to lean forward and bite it off.

“Well get on with it,” you say, arching your eyebrows.

Bakugou looks for a moment like he wants to shake you. But he ducks his head instead, lowering his mouth to yours again.

“Gonna fuck that bossiness right out of you,” he mutters, low like he’s promising himself and not you. But then he kisses you again, muffling your gasp in his mouth.

You’ve never kissed another man, and do not have a frame of reference for what he’s doing. But Bakugou is a good kisser, you think. Every flick of his tongue feels like someone has uncorked champagne and poured it beneath your skin, and every brush of his mouth against yours sends a liquid heat racing through your veins.

You moan into his mouth when calloused fingers delve beneath the collar of your gown, dipping into your stays and pinching a nipple. He rolls it carefully, and you arch against him without any say-so from your brain. 

“Been thinking about this, Princess,” he says. “Ever since I saw you in that little nightdress. Gonna show you what it really means to be with a man.”

You’re excused from answering by his mouth back on yours. Not that you think you could, with the way his fingers feel in the cups of your stays, or the press of a strong thigh between your own.

“Bakugou,” you gasp when he peels off of you, only to sink to his knees before you.

“It’s Katsuki,” he says, busying himself with the hem of your skirts. 

“B–Katsuki,” you say. “What are you doing?”

Long fingers roll up the hemline of your dress, then yank at your underthings, exposing you to him. You gasp again, moving to cover yourself, but Bakugou pins you to the wall with an arm across your stomach, catching your thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.

“Husbandly duties,” he replies, another smirk on his mouth.

And then your head thunks against the wall as that mouth moves, pressing to you.

“Katsuki!” you shout, biting off into an embarrassing moan when he laves over you. No one had told you about this part—about how a man’s mouth there would make you feel like fireworks had just been lit off in your veins. About how a man’s mouth could even go there at all.

Bakugou doesn’t reply, kissing you there as he had your lips. A delicate suck from him over the cleft of you has you arching in his hands again, and you can quite literally feel him smirking against you.

He works you thoroughly, licking and sucking for what feels like torturous hours, but must only be minutes, until you’re a writhing, panting mess, only held upright by the arm he has banded across your lower stomach. There’s a pressure rising within you, pooling in all your limbs, making you shake and shiver with it, and what feels like no way to release it.

“Katsuki—I feel strange,” you say, bucking against his mouth. “Oh—oh!”

“Just hold on, sweetheart, and let yourself feel it,” Katsuki tells you, before licking back over you. A finger presses up inside of you, foreign but strangely good in conjunction with his mouth. Then another one presses in and they curl as if seeking something, making you twist in his grip.

And then something makes you jerk—the press of Katsuki’s fingers inside you in just the right spot, while he sucks on you, feeling like he’s touching the same place inside of you from both sides.

Something inside you snaps, uncoiling, pleasure flooding down you like a mudslide. You cry out Bakugou’s name, tears in your vision, riding out your pleasure against his mouth. Bakugou licks you through it, groaning low in his throat with appreciation.

“That’s it, Princess,” he says, tone rough. “Now you’re ready for consummation.”

You hear his words as if through a haze, and it’s only once you’re moving—being picked up and carried over to the bed—that you register what he’s saying.

He frees himself from his breeches, and stretches out over you, kissing your mouth. You’re embarrassed to taste yourself on him, but the press of him to you overrides that concern. In one smooth stroke he presses in, and you are shocked to find that he slides home easily, your core slick and ready.

It feels strange, but not at all unpleasant—absolutely nothing like what they’d told you.

“You alright, Princess?” Bakugou asks.

“I—yes,” you say, voice fluttering off when he flexes his hips, moving inside of you. The slide of him inside of you is unexpectedly good, especially when he lowers a hand to your core, pressing a thumb to that bundle of nerves at the hood of you.

“Feel good?” he asks, his eyes hot on your face. You cling to him, hips lifting into him unthinkingly as his thumb pets over you again, as he presses in and out of you a few more times.

You nod, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

He grins anyway, feral and fever-bright. His pace picks up into something faster, and you’re embarrassed to hear the slap of him against you, the eager way your body welcomes him in.

The band of pressure builds up inside you again, slowly, with every sure stroke of Bakugou inside you. He’s hot and hard and heavy over you, pressing you into the mattress, and the tops of his cheeks are flush with effort—the way he looks sometimes when he’s just come in from the training pitch.

He’s beautiful—handsome and strong and hot-headed and determined. And it dawns on you that he’s yours now—not just your subject but your husband, your prince consort, and now your lover.

It makes all your skin turn molten hot again, especially when you look down and see your knees have rucked his shirt up. You can see the flex of his abs as he thrusts between your thighs, all that golden skin and dense muscle.

The slide of him inside you and the sight of him over you is suddenly too much, and you feel yourself tip right over the edge again. Bakugou catches your hand as you lift it to muffle your cry, kissing over your knuckles.

“That’s it, Princess, that’s it,” he says again, ducking his head to kiss you.

You moan into his mouth as he fucks you through it, and he groans with the clench of you.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he says against your lips, pace picking up faster. “Knew you would, sweetheart, yeah.”

Embarrassingly you feel almost like you could come apart again with the praise. Bakugou groans once more, and you can hear his grip tighten in the blanket next to your head. His hips buck and flex, wildly uncontrolled now, until he gives one final hard thrust.

His weight pins you down when he relaxes over you, his breath tickling over your shoulder. You find you like the weight of him on you, covering you, like a shield against the rest of the world.

Apt, for a general.

“Better than how you wanted to do it, wasn’t it, Princess?” he asks, smug.

You scoff, but you catch the flash of a white grin in the corner of your vision. There is really no question that he’d had the better of it, this time.

“Knew you’d see it my way,” he says.

Over him, you can hear the flutter of feet outside the door, some muffled discussion. Heat rises to your face when you realize the castle aids most definitely heard you cry out under Bakugou’s ministrations. There will be no doubt of your consummation now, regardless of whether you were observed.

“Nosy fuckin’ perverts,” Bakugou says, rolling off of you. You catch another flicker of his chest with the way his shirt gapes, and he looks doubly smug when he notices.

“Not done yet, angel?” he says.

“I am, thank you.” You flush, embarrassed at having been caught. But Bakugou stretches an arm out to yank you over him, pressing you down over his hips.

Your stomach flutters.

“Give me a couple more minutes, Princess,” Bakugou says, scarlet eyes flashing with heat once more. His hand raises to trail through your hair, catching in the wedding hairstyle they’d pinned you into. 

“Five more minutes,” your new husband promises you, with a grin like the devil. “And then we'll give them something to really listen to.”