#every time i color this scene i get stronger. anyway there were so many expressions i just couldnt leave out. the deep breath ai di takes

[casualavocados]

You've never done that when I got close to you before. Why? None of your business. Tell me, or you can't leave.

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 10

[belit0]

Hey, can you write Indra + size kink + cockworship + nasty cum stuff ?? Sorry, i'm hungry for that man

Sorry this took me SO FUCKING LONG omfg

No need to be sorry, I’m as hungry as you. I haven’t written smut in a while, so bear with me, I’m getting back at it:,(

Tw: Indra knows nothing about communication

When Indra enters the house, the sun has already set. He looks drained, tired. It’s been days since he started wearing his hair loose, devoid of his usual ponytail, and it only helps to make him look more massive than he is.

His steps are heavy as he heads to the bedroom, and when he looks at you with those expressionless serious eyes, you know he won’t be eating dinner today either. That’s okay, you’re not used to spending time together as a normal couple anyway, and you know you’d feel weird if he actually sat down with you and joined you for a meal.

His form disappears down the corridor and you know he has found the way to bed, seeking comfort from the adversities of the day. His shadow is dragged across the walls by the candlelight, and for a moment, it looks like the demon everyone says he is.

But of course, you know better than to believe those ridiculous tales.

It’s been months since this man appeared in your village, a place led by a poor wretch who was trying his best to get his people ahead. Only a few enjoyed good fortune, privilege, and wealth, and you were not one of them. Life before Indra, here, was based on working hard for pennies, finding food wherever possible, wearing the same clothes repeatedly for lack of more garments. Poverty was rampant among almost the entire village population, and despite the leader’s best efforts, nothing seemed to work for the betterment of the situation.

But a mysterious man with long hair and thick shoulders, tattooed eyes, impressive physique compared to the famine-stricken people... left everyone captivated. With just a couple of suggestions and commands, things turned around, and the outlook brightened for everybody. This mysterious man quickly rose in the hierarchical power of the village, and the current leader ended up giving up his place.

Indra became their ruler overnight, and hopes for the future of the town seemed to grow stronger and stronger again.

Town expansion was inevitable, welcoming visitors and travelers intrigued by the legends of this man who brought fortune to a doomed place. Enemies were also unavoidable. The Otsutsuki defended and used all his power to prevent the destruction of the foundations he had built with so much effort, leaving everyone terrified in his steps.

His red eyes became stories used by mothers to frighten disobedient children, his violet beast traveled on the tongues of all the merchants and their incessant rumors.

Respect mingled with fear, yet Indra never wavered.

He looked imposing as he walked the streets of the town, staring at nothing in particular, an expression forged by iron and ice. His towering figure seemed to cast a gigantic shadow over every other man nearby, and all the women were dying to take the vacant place at his side.

Everyone thought as he became leader he would choose one of the few wealthy ladies of the village as his wife, but he did not.

It was months after his ascension to power before he communicated with a woman. And that turned out to be you.

Although the village prospered and grew bigger every day, your life remained the same, complicated. Money was scarce as well as food, and working hard every morning was necessary if you wanted to get a crumb of bread.

You tended the garden of a prosperous family, kneeling in the morning dew, your clothes covered in dirt from the work you had started just a few minutes ago.

Footsteps in front of you broke your concentration, and when you looked up, a tall figure was staring down at you. A flowing robe floated in the wind, and that frown was visible even from the floor. Indra was intimidating without uttering a word.

“You look thoroughly filthy.” He had said. “I’m sorry, my lord.” You had replied, bowing your head in respect.

You did not finish that day’s work, for offering you a wide hand, Indra Otsutsuki himself lifted you from the dirt and escorted you to get a fresh change of clothes. Not one of the worn-out ones you used to wear, but an expensive one, of excellent quality, full of exquisite details. A garment of high society, one of the kind he himself usually wore.

From that moment on, he did not leave your side. It was only a matter of time before you moved into his residence, an immense house in the middle of town. You became the envy of all women, no one being able to understand how their leader could choose a servant girl as his partner.

And despite the fear you felt towards him at first, although his haughty looks seemed to be empty initially, you eventually grew to understand him. Dread turned into respect, affection, love.

After all, he saved you from that life of misery to give you one of luxury and privilege, asking for nothing in return. Even though you slept in the same bed every night, he never touched a single hair on your head, never came near you, never took the initiative you feared he may take.

“Why me?” you asked once, the blush on your face shielded by nighttime darkness inside the room. A large space lay between you both on the bed, and Indra, while you couldn’t see him, probably had his back to you. “You are the prettiest.” He replied simply, and you caught a note of amusement in his voice.

During the day it was rare for you to see him, but at sunset, you would both be in the bedroom. No lustful touches in the middle were necessary to make the night complete, for the silences which at first were awkward eventually were filled with chatter.

That intimidating look, that wide-backed warrior with blood-colored eyes, became a companion, a pleasant person to spend time with. Never smiled, never laughed, but you know he is calm, that he enjoys the moment as much as you do. You’ve seen him interact with other people, how his muscles tense when someone is way too close for his comfort, how his brow furrows when anyone speaks to him. You know you’re the only person he tolerates, appreciates, and loves around him.

That’s why seeing him arrive like this is something uncomfortable in your chest. Slowly following in his footsteps, you find his clothes lost all the way back to the room. You pick up garment by garment, and there is a certain satisfaction as you smell his clothes and feel his perfume. As you reach the doorway, he is already tucked into bed, buried under sheets. One of his arms supports his head and acts as a pillow while his other hand scratches his chest, which is slightly uncovered. One of his legs is bent, and covers slip off his skin, revealing a thigh and worked muscles. His eyes are closed, but he knows you are there.

Leaving his clothing on a chair, you approach him and sit on the edge of the bed, hands clasped in your lap. Rarely have you seen this scene, where he relaxes with all his rights in his own bed. Sex has never been addressed between the two of you, and it’s something you’re grateful for. Rumors travel faster than the wind, and many a woman has walked around claiming to have spent time in the bed of the mighty Indra. Whether that’s true, you don’t know, and you’ve never asked either.

If true, your experience is undoubtedly unparalleled.

Still, seeing him like this, becoming one with the bed and stretching out, getting a taste of his toned chest and his thick thigh... Curiosity suddenly demands more.

“You’re staring.” His eyes are still closed, but to be put on display is still just as humiliating. “I’m sorry...” You’re not sure if get up and leave at that moment, but it’s his voice that clears the uncertainty. “Why? I’m your partner, naturally.”

It feels like confirmation of your actions, and you become brave all at once.

“Can I help you... To feel better?....” Your voice is full of hesitation, yet one end of his lips lifts, revealing a wickedly tinged smirk.

“Be my guest.”

Climbing on top of him, your hands tremble with anxiety and anticipation. His eyes flutter open and he watches you intently, analyzing where your actions lead. The man really is huge, and being partially on top of him, the size difference is even greater. Indra seems to rejoice in your stupor, picking up on your intentions and stirring the sheets covering him as you settle between his legs.

Whatever nervousness you felt about what was to come only grows worse at the sight of his size, as even half-hard, his cock’s intimidatingly enormous length.

“Already frightened?” The teasing tone sliding across his tongue fills you with new determination, and with both hands, you hold his shaft. One at the base and one at the head. Your tongue timidly explores that unfamiliar surface, feeling in your grip how hardness invades his dick second after second.

Your lips wrap carefully around it, and pushing gently, inch by inch, his length finds its way into the pleasantly warm depths of your mouth. One of your hands slowly slides down, dragging skin in its wake.

Fixing your eyes on Indra while trying to deal with the raw, inexperienced situation and size, you notice impatience and need, lust swimming in red eyes dominates his expression.

From an instant to the next, your shoulders are enveloped by two gigantic hands, and position is turned around, a vast body hovering over you and trapping you underneath it.

“You teasing little fucker...”

Being handled like that awakens something on the inside that you rarely felt before, some sort of tingling urgently needing to be soothed. A broad palm grasps your chin, which moves your face in the direction Indra desires as he suddenly engulfed your lips.

You have never kissed this man before, and to be making out with him for the first time in these circumstances should feel wrong... but it only builds up more sensations in your lower belly, a treacherous emptiness, and an almost unfamiliar fire.

Your hands awkwardly find his back, and the need to press him against your face, to demand more, to extract more from those luscious lips is interesting. There is no more distance to close between the two of you, but you want to crush yourself against his labored chest until becoming one.

The moment ends quickly as you gasp for air, and trying to recover, a sultry Indra, who grins viciously seductive overpowers your gaze.

“I’ll introduce you to a thing or two...”

Before you comprehend what his words mean, the position changes again, and his two knees are one on either side of your head. He looks even more terrifying from this angle than in everyday life, and you don’t venture to peek at his dick. Two of his fingers slide across your lower lip, caressing your cheek, and suddenly squeeze your face harshly. Your mouth is forced open, but when his cock slides over your tongue and you understand the functionality of the pose, you ease back.

Your lack of experience was driving him crazy, and rather than loosening him up, you were upsetting him further. Managing the matter with his own hands, or rather with his own hips, Indra finds peace again.

Rising to height, one of his palms cradles your face, while the other supports himself against the wall. You try to find stability by holding onto his thighs, and as he buries himself lower in your mouth, sensations in your body become almost unbearable, coupled with his movements.

Indra is kind at first, gradually pushing into your inexperienced cavity slowly, closing his eyes tightly and fighting the urge to destroy your mouth.

Yet when your jaw relaxes completely, grasping the rhythm and feel of the situation, he lets go. The beast is finally released, and the Otsutsuki fucks your lips with abandon, hitting the end of your throat with each thrust. His hips move with agility, and imagining him between your legs with the same surrender and strength makes you hold on.

Tears decorate your cheeks and eyelashes, blending with the saliva dripping from your mouth every time that cock lunges at your face. Indra becomes completely abstracted, tilting his head back as deep growls rise from deep within his chest.

When air is inevitably needed and you can no longer avoid gagging, you repeatedly slap his thighs, drawing his attention. He leans his forehead against the wall and holds your face with both hands, withdrawing his dick from your throat and catching his breath with difficulty. His gaze is fixed on you, and although you could probably look better, you feel really appreciated under those red eyes.

The fluids from your mouth completely soaked your chest and cheeks, your clothes are soaked, and at the sight, the Otsutsuki slides his fingers across your wet skin, then strokes his shaft twice.

When you catch your breath, you place a kiss on the head which has been hitting the back of your throat for minutes, showing he may continue.

Without a second thought, he burrows deeply into your mouth, reaching a depth he hadn’t hit before. The grunt he exhales makes your skin crawl, and you really want to see him enjoy you like this for the rest of your life.

He gives you time to breathe again, and his thrusts become more shallow, seeking more contact with the softness of your tongue and the warmth of your cheeks. It isn’t long before his length is completely out of your cavity and he works it rapidly, seeking the longed-for finish. You’re not sure what you should do, so you simply watch him, amazed at the size of his hands.

After a few seconds, several white shots paint your face, staining your hair and chest, leaving practically nowhere without even a drop. It’s unexpected, but satisfying.

[chipper9906]

Maybe

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 01 EPISODE 05: ‘JOURNEY INTO MYSTERY’ AND SEASON 01 EPISODE 04: ‘THE NEXUS EVENT’

Pairings: Loki/Sylvie

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 4,124 

Status: One Shot - Complete

Chapter Preview:

He had meant for it to come out more as a question, an offering. A possibility for the both of them. But what it really sounded like was a… well; a sincere, hope-filled attempt to keep hold of… this. Whatever this was, he knew he wanted it. However things went, he knew-

He wanted Sylvie in his life.

His heart was racing in his chest, pounding almost as hard as it does in the midst of battle. In the unlikely event he’s a free man after all of this over, he’ll have to go and find his brother - if he’ll even talk to him, that is - and apologize for the harsh insult he used; for berating his older brother over his affection for that Earth woman.

He understood now.

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Author Note: 

Oh Boy, here I go again, getting sucked into yet another ship. Basically, this is a dive into Loki's thoughts during the blanket scene in Episode 5 "Journey Into Mystery" because man, I sure do love getting into a character's head and breaking down their thought process.

P.S. No joke, I think I re-watched the blanket scene like... over 40 times I counted, roughly. Wanted to make sure I got every detail right lmao.

Oh wow, would you look at that - yet ANOTHER fic based on the blanket scene? I'm sure this hasn't been done by many different people ever since Episode 5 aired! Nah, I'm sure this is purely original stuff.

(Listen, this scene and - consequently - this fic got stuck in my head and I just had to write it down and... well here we are.

* * *

This was, as he had said, new for him.

It was… strange, to say the least. Not just because the woman who was sat next to him was, technically, on some sort of level, himself. And yet… not. Sylvie was her own person, that was for sure. And the only Loki, from who he’s met, who refuses to be called Loki. She had chosen her own name, and was currently choosing – or carving, was more accurate – her own path. A way out of the never-ending, self-sabotaging, “only use is for improving others” apparent destiny they’ve all found themselves in.

She had lived an entirely different life from him - and the use of the word ‘different’ here is strongly applied. It makes him a little uneasy when he dwells on it for too long if he’s being honest with himself. Yes, there may some similarities between them, as to be expected, but Sylvie had lived her own set of experiences different to his. Differences that had shaped her, made her see the world… universe… timeline? All of that, in a different way to him. Learning of the things she had gone through, what she’s trying to accomplish… it made his “glorious purpose” of ruling over “Mid-guard” seem like a spoiled boy's desperate attempt to feel important.

Everything with Sylvie and the TVA had shut down that ideal very quickly. Or, at least, has changed his view of his “Glorious Purpose”. The one change that he hadn’t seen coming, that Sylvie herself had told him; the very first words she had actually said to him:

“This isn’t about you.”

No, it wasn’t about him. Not just him, anyway. It was… it was all of him. Every version of himself out there, and every other variant of... Of everyone to have ever existed. Those, just like him, who are punished for stepping out of their pre-written timeline. Those that, when they try to change themselves, to be the person who those that loved him did everything in their power to guide them to be, were snatched away by the TVA and sent here to this pit of unwanted, broken things; left with nothing but unforgiving and dirty survival, only to lead to their inevitable death. 

And it’s cold.

“Mobius isn’t so bad.”

Sylvie breaks the comfortable lull of silence they had found themselves in. They were, technically, supposed to be ironing out the details of this plan to enchant a creature much, much larger than them, whose only desire is to eat everything that enters the world they’re currently in. Which is why, perhaps, they had taken the moment to just… breathe. A moment of rest, side by side. Whilst it was true that his plan of killing the gargantuan cloud thing was near suicidal, it would be fair to say that Sylvie’s plan was equally as dangerous. Then again, what did he expect? Seemed that every type of Loki out there isn’t the best at creating plans…

“Or so good,” Loki counters. It seemed almost cruel to say, but… it was also true, wasn’t it? Sure, Mobius had done the things he’d done because he thought they were the right things to do – but that didn’t take away from the fact that he’d done them. How many variants, not only of him, but of so many other poor souls had been doomed to this place because of his work? Still, it wasn’t like Mobius had the full picture with everything. Mobius had been lied to just as much as he had. “I think that’s why we get along.”

A small smile pulls at Sylvie’s lips. She takes a deep breath in, staring out to the horizon where Alioth awaits prowling his territory. “He cares about you.”

That catches him off guard. He supposed that she and Mobius must have had some type of conversation in however long they’d spent driving to reach them. Apparently, the topic of conversation must have steered towards him at some point. And somehow, through that, Sylvie had deduced that Mobius… cared about him?

There’s a soft, knowing smile on Sylvie’s face as she catches sight of his reaction. It was probably the closest similarity they shared: friendships… didn’t quite seem to happen for them. 

But there’s something else there in Sylvie’s expression as she looks to him. Almost a twinge of… of sadness. It sends an aching sort of pain through his chest as he sees it, coming to a sudden realization in his head. He knew that, deep down, the reason for his own loneliness was all due to himself. He knows now that there were plenty in his life that loved him, that always treated him like family even when, genetically, he wasn’t. But he had been blinded by jealousy and hatred, hatred that they had kept the secret of his true nature quiet for so long. It was because of this; this stubbornness and this selfish, false ideal that he deserves more, that he had made himself alone. 

But Sylvie…? She had been well and truly alone. From such a young age, an age where his mother had barely begun teaching him the basics of magic, she had been snatched away from her life. Everything she ever knew and loved had been wiped away, the timeline dumped here just like everything else the TVA – or whoever the hell is actually in charge of the damn universe and its multiple timelines – decided was too much of a threat. Ever since then, from that very same day she had managed to escape their clutches, she had been running alone. All those years, fighting to survive, completely alone, existing in one apocalypse after the other. Even if she did try and interact with the people in those timelines, what would be the point? They were doomed to die, anyway… 

Her words echo in his head for a moment, her sad smile seemingly etched into his memory. A part of him, that strangely soft side he didn’t know existed that had been growing stronger and stronger these past few days, burst with the need to do something, to remove the pain she was feeling. For just a split second, he nearly gives into it. He nearly says the words that were forcing their way to the forefront of his brain. 

‘I care about you.’

But the words stay safely locked away in his head. Sylvie looks away from him, and the moment passes. He didn’t know if she had been expecting for him to say anything, and he certainly didn’t know what it is she might have thought he would say. His mind clambers for something, for anything to try and bring the moment back.

A strong gust of cool wind blows over them, sending chills across his pale skin - despite the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. He knew that, if he really wanted to warm himself up, he could shift into his true form. Except, he didn’t see it as his true form. He has been an Asgardian as long as he can remember, and for all intents and purpose, this is who he’s meant to be. He is the son of Odin, son of Frigga, brother to Thor, an Asgardian, and he’s proud of that. 

And that’s when the idea pops into his head.

“It’s cold,” Loki states the obvious to Sylvie with a shiver of his upper body, glancing over to try and catch her reaction out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he wonders if Sylvie has the same views on their true heritage as he does, considering that, in her timeline, she was told she was adopted much earlier than he was. 

She doesn’t mention anything about it, though. Instead, she simply agrees with his statement with a hum of “Mmm-Hmm,” but it’s exactly the kind of answer he’s looking for.

From the outside, it looks like an easy twirl of his fingers and a burst of lime-green light, but in reality, it’s years and years of practice, both by himself and… and with his mother. The weight of the blanket - though light - is comforting as it wraps around his shoulders; silky smooth to the touch and of a darker green than the light of his their magic. 

The burst of color gets Sylvie’s attention, looking over to Loki again to see the new blanket he had materialized out of seemingly thin air - which… he did. 

“I could conjure one for you, if you like?” Loki offers.

Sylvie smiles for just a split second, enough for Loki to believe that she might just say yes. But then her nose scrunches as she comes back to herself, and the belief is gone. “Tell you what, you could conjure me a new outfit,” Sylvie says off-handedly, pulling at the tight collar of her outfit. “You have no idea how uncomfortable something like this is.”

It’s a deflection. He knows that all too well, because… because it’s something he’d do. Not that he can blame her in the slightest. As he had said, just before he was pruned through the heart and sent here - this was entirely new for him. Sure, he had had his fair share of flings back home. Rare occasions when he would give in to temptations, let himself experience a slice of normality. But it was never real. He did not doubt that those that fell into his bed did not do so because they felt a connection, or saw a future. And neither did he. He was a prince, a God, and for most, saying you were able to seduce a prince was an achievement. And for him? Well, it was an easy means to an end, he supposed. 

But this? This felt real. It was strange, it was something he had never experience before, and quite frankly, it scared the ever-living God’s out of him. So sure, he knew how to flirt… somewhat. But with this, with Sylvie? Everything was different, and he had no clue whatsoever what he should do.

“So…” Sylvie breaks him out of his thoughts. “Mobius, and his theory about…”

Oh. Well, he certainly hadn’t been expecting for the conversation to go there. Really, he had thought she might try and pretend to have never heard what Mobius had said. 

“Right, right. About our Nexus event-,”

“Total rubbish, right?”

He’d be lying if he said that didn’t sting a little bit. “Absolutely,” ‘Liar’, a voice in his head hisses. “Of course, I mean-,”

“I don’t mean that it wasn’t a nice moment,” Sylvie hurries to say, and it lessens that sting just a little bit. 

“No, it was great! It was really nice.”

“It just… sounds like another TVA lie.”

Which... Yes, when he thinks about it, could you easily have been a lie. Not that he thinks that Mobius would lie to them about this, no, but that someone else within the TVA had fed Mobius the lie. For what reason, he's not entirely sure. To throw them off the scent perhaps? Keep them from figuring out what can really cause a Nexus Event so powerful that it could conceivably take the TVA down. 

Or, perhaps they just enjoyed lying. More than him even - and that's saying something. 

"A hundred percent. I mean totally, yeah."

And oh, what was this? Loki tries to meet her eye, expecting her to nod her head vehemently in agreement to his statement. But... She won't look at him. She gives a somewhat strained-looking smile, more like a grimace than anything, and if he looks hard enough - by which he means projects his own feelings onto Sylvie and hopes she feels the same - he could almost imagine there was a flicker of disappointment there, too. 

"I don't know how to do this," Sylvie says, an admission he didn't expect. She looks about as awkward as he feels, eyes fixated on her fingers as she plays with them. 

"I don't even know what we're doing," Loki returns, and dear oh dear did he genuinely mean that. One moment he thinks he should take that step, say something, anything. And then the very next moment it becomes the wrong time, the wrong thing to say, and he's back to square one. 

It was frustrating, to say the least.

"I don't have friends," Sylvie carries on, and it's another dagger through the heart. Yet another thing that was so similar, yet so, so different. He had been given so many opportunities for companionship, for friends, but he repeatedly threw them all away. But Sylvie? She wasn't even given the chance. She truly had-

"I don't have..." Sylvie trails off, a long gap where she struggles to find the right word to use. Her eyes had locked onto his, and he knew that nothing less than Alioth appearing right above their heads would get him to tear his eyes away.

"... Anyone." 

"Well, there are more important things, right?" Loki desperately grasps for something to wipe away the blank, dejected look that was etched onto her features. 

"Right? Yeah, like bringing down the TVA." 

For once, one of his plans was going well. "Saving the universe, even."

"Well, there's no need to be dramatic - but yeah, kind of!" 

Then there it was again - a particularly strong breeze pushing up to the little hill they were sat on. Sylvie gives a little shiver as it washes over them, a barely noticeable shuffle in an attempt to get warm, and Loki jumps at the opportunity. 

It only takes one small adjustment, a brief push of magic, and then the blanket is growing, wrapping itself around Sylvie's shoulders in a motion so smooth, you'd think he'd done something like this hundreds of times before. Loki smiles gently to her when she notices the change, and his smile only grows more as Sylvie pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders, shuffling closer to him by just the smallest of movements. Yet another plan he could now say was a success. 

"It's not very snuggly."

Or, maybe not. "Okay," Loki manages to get out through a surprised laugh, but he does get some sort of gratification in seeing her smile at his response. 

"Is it a tablecloth?" 

"No, it's a blanket," Loki finds himself strangely defending his materialized choice of cloth. 

There’s a pause, the quickest of glances up to him. He sees a brief flash of pink as she pokes out the tip of her tongue between her lips, wetting them as she struggles to get out her next words. “Thank you.”

Loki gets a strange feeling she doesn’t get to say that all too often. Whether that be because she chooses not to, or because she’s never had the opportunity to. When was the last time someone did something nice for her…?

“My pleasure.”

Sure, this was all new, and all types of scary. But, as he sat here, shoulder to shoulder with Sylvie, looking out to the dreary yet oddly beautiful landscape scattered with remnants from pruned timelines, he can't help but feel that this moment right here? It was… nice. Despite the TVA, despite Alioth, despite the fear of imminent death he’s had to live through nearly every moment since the Tesseract flung him into that desert in Mongolia, he had managed to find himself some semblance of peace. 

And it was because of the person next to him.

“How do I know that, in the final moments, you won't betray me?”

Now, this was a conversation he had been expecting. How can he not? It seemed that nearly every single person he’s ever come across, who he hasn’t immediately tried to murder, wonders the exact same thing. The ‘inevitable’ betrayal every Loki seems incapable not to carry out. 

And he couldn’t blame them, just as he can’t blame Sylvie for wondering the same thing. Really, he had thought the whole reason she had wanted this moment to talk to him was to have this very conversation. It was… it was something he had thought about himself, ever since being dragged in by the TVA. It was Mobius that had shown him his consistent deceitful nature - quite literally, by showing him film of every moment in his life where his flair for dramatics and affiliation for backstabbing was apparently used for ‘the bettering of others’. 

It had become deeply ingrained into his nature. It became what he was known for, what his family knew him for. He supposed it gave him some sense of… satisfaction, perhaps? A false sense of security, that he always has the upper hand when need be. It was almost like a trial, opportunities to prove to himself that, when the time comes, he can do what it takes to claim what he, false-fully, felt he was owed. He was certain that the only path to being a rightful ruler was one filled with betrayal. 

And now, after only a few days with Mobius - and an even shorter amount of days with Sylvie, his previous ambition he’s been working towards for so long suddenly wasn’t as important. Things had changed. 

He had changed. 

And that was part of the reason the TVA wanted him dead. 

“Listen, Sylvie, I…” Loki starts, but then stops. He sighs deeply, wanting to find the best way to get this across to her. He needed her to understand. “I betrayed everyone who ever loved me. I betrayed my father, my brother… my home.”

He at least had her full attention now. No more awkward glances at one another, unable to maintain more than a few seconds of eye contact. This was important, and they both knew it. “I know what I did. And I know why I did it. And that’s not who I am anymore. Okay?”

There’s nothing on her face that he can read, nothing that says whether she believes him or not. She had been expecting him to say this, he supposed. “I won't let you down,” Loki says, and he says it like a promise - one he fully intends to keep. 

“You sure?” Sylvie asks, and he nods his head straight away in response. “ ‘Cause if we make it, and the TVA is gone, there might be a timeline for you to rule.” Sylvie continues with a challenging - yet slightly teasing- narrowing of her eyes. 

“Ah,” Loki says wistfully, looking out to the horizon as if dreaming of such an event. “And then I’d finally be happy.”

Except, he wouldn’t. He only has to look at his older self to know that. The only one of himself that had beaten the one event that’s supposed to define their lives. He had tricked the mad titan himself, found himself a little corner of the universe to live out his life in peace. No more people he has to challenge, no more opportunities for betrayal - by him, or to him. 

And he looked… miserable. 

Now, though? Right here and now, he wasn’t miserable. He certainly wasn’t relaxed, that was for sure, but far from miserable. He had ended his little exclamation with a rare smile that wasn’t a smirk - or forced- and miraculously, Sylvie returned one just as wide as his; wide enough even for him to see the little laughter lines crinkling at the corner of her eyes.

“What about you?” Loki asks. “What will you do when this is all over?”

Sylvie takes a moment to think, tucking an unruly strand of hair away from her face. “I don’t know.”

He couldn’t even begin to try and put himself in her shoes. Sylvie had spent… hundreds, perhaps even a thousand years of her life just running. Surviving. Doing whatever it takes to make sure she wasn’t wiped off the board by some mystery figure, or group, that had deemed her too dangerous to the timeline. And for what? Some kind of sick desire to have control over every single living thing in every type of Universe to ever exist?

Which… which sounded an awful lot like himself, now he thought about it. Maybe whoever was in charge of the TVA was another variant of himself…

“I don’t know either,” Loki said, and that added to the tally of growing truths he was admitting to people - perhaps the most in his life. 

At some point, this all had to be over. Whether… whether it ends in his death once again, another defeat by a power-hungry being, or with their victory. No more TVA. No more pruning of variants. No more control. Sure, Sylvie had made that joke about him ruling a separate timeline, but… what would he do once this was all over, assuming her survives it? What did he want to do?

What does he want? 

‘Look at your eyes! You like her!’

‘What?’

‘You like her! Does she like you?’

‘Was she pruned-’

‘No wonder you have no clue what caused the Nexus Event on Lamentis; both of you are swooning over each other!’

‘Tell me the truth-’

‘It’s the apocalypse! Two Variants of the same being, especially you, forming this sick, twisted romantic relationship - that’s pure chaos! That could break reality, it’s breaking my reality right now! What an incredible, seismic narcissist - you fell for yourself!’

‘Her name was Sylvie’.

Mobius had truly tricked him there. At least now he knew how cruel it was to be on the other side of such a bluff, he supposed. He had always prided himself on his acting abilities, his innate way of lying to others. Yet, apparently, when it came to Sylvie… he puts his full emotions on display. He had become too overcome with emotions at the mere thought of Mobius telling the truth, that Sylvie was well and truly gone, and he had snapped. He was…

Yes… That was the word. 

He was heartbroken. 

‘You conniving, craven, pathetic worm. I hope you know you deserve to be alone and you always will be.’

‘Do you really think you deserve to be alone?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well then you better figure it out quick, because the Nexus Event the two of you caused, whatever that connection is, can bring this whole place down.’

Maybe, just maybe… Mobius was onto something there. Maybe Sif, even in that small, once insignificant memory buried in his mind, was wrong. 

Maybe he didn’t deserve to be alone.

Maybe he didn’t have to be. 

“Maybe…” The words get caught in his throat, spoken softer than he intended to. He involuntary finds himself leaning closer to Sylvie, to the warmth radiating from her, trapped within the blanket wrapped around them. “Maybe we could figure it out... together.”

He had meant for it to come out more as a question, an offering. A possibility for the both of them. But what it really sounded like was a… well; a sincere, hope-filled attempt to keep hold of… this. Whatever this was, he knew he wanted it. However things went, he knew-

He wanted Sylvie in his life. 

His heart was racing in his chest, pounding almost as hard as it does in the midst of battle. In the unlikely event he’s a free man after all of this over, he’ll have to go and find his brother - if he’ll even talk to him, that is - and apologize for the harsh insult he used; for berating his older brother over his affection for that Earth woman. 

He understood now. 

He almost misses the slightest of reactions as Sylvie looks up to him - and what he knows is an earnest, vulnerable glaze in his eyes. It’s the smallest of things, almost impossible to see, but there’s a slight pull to the corner of her lips as she looks to him. Almost as if she was fighting back a smile at his proposition. 

“Maybe,” She whispers back to him, just as quiet and tender as his own words. It’s not a yes, not in the way his frantically racing heart was hoping to hear, but it was a start. It was Sylvie’s own returning of a proposition, her own olive branch. The possibility he had given that she was extending right back to him. 

Maybe. 

Maybe.

Maybe.

Yes… Maybe they’d survive this. Maybe he and Sylvie would bring down the tyrant who oversees ‘the sacred timeline’. Maybe he’ll find Mobius again, alive and well, having turned the entirety of the TVA’s workforce against the organization they devoted their lives to, and burn it to the ground. 

Maybe Sylvie will let him stay by her side. 

Maybe, he’ll carve that new path in his life - with Sylvie’s intertwined with his.

Maybe he’ll find that new Glorious Purpose.

Maybe he won’t be alone. 

Maybe he’ll be happy. 

Maybe…

You know what? He was starting to like that word. 

[cozyforjate]

MacGyver 5x03-Review

MacRiley fam, this will be my last MacGyver review. Thanks for the support and the great feedback on my reviews so far. You guys are awesome! But i’m taking a looong break from this show. I’ll be watching the Jack episode and if we get a Bozer, Matty or Riley centric i’ll tune in to watch. But my passion and excitement for this show is mostly over now.

I have so many things to say about 5x03 but if i start to express all my feelings i’m afraid i might break Tumblr. LOL 

This probably wouldn’t feel like a proper review coz i’m gonna focus on the RETCON that the writers pulled out of their asses to keep MacDesi together.

Ok so for people who are not familiar with the word “retcon”; it means changing an aspect of a fictional work by introducing a piece of new information, typically used to facilitate a dramatic plot shift or account for an inconsistency.

The writers usually pull a retcon, when one aspect of an already canon plot isn’t working well. You can call it a “fix-it” method.

In terms of MacDesi, they retconned some moments from season 4 that defined this relationship. I think the new showrunner and the writers team realized that MacDesi has become quite “toxic” during season 4. But because the additional episodes kept them together, they needed to at least fix this relationship.

From their POV it’s understandable to a degree. But from a viewers POV it’s total BS. Because what we watched in season 4, can’t be changed.

We remember the unhealthy dynamic between them, we remember the lack of trust between them, we remember how incompatible they were, we remember how they couldn’t communicate with each other, we remember Mac not letting her in emotionally, not opening up to her at all, we remember how much they BOTH hurt each other, we remember Mac’s own words on their relationship.

Most importantly we still remember 4x12. How quickly Desi turned her back on him, how she brought his mothers and aunts names into their ugly fight, how Mac said he’d say anything to get her off his back, we remember how she and Russ left Mac no choice but to improvise a plan to save lives, we remember Riley risking everything to protect him and be there for him. WE REMEMBER.

So when you dismiss all of that and re-write MacDesi as if they’re this great couple, it’s not going to work for people. And when you tease MacRiley the whole week with promos, exclusive pictures, articles, SM promotion; promising progress between Mac and Riley only to walk over everything that made them special, you get a lot of NEGATIVE reaction from the fans. With good reason.

* * *

Episode started with Mac and Riley on a picnic mission. The scene was amazing in every sense. The colors, lighting, the conversation between them, the almost kiss, the way Mac held Riley and they lied down for a while, the smug smile on his face and the looks he gave to Riley were all awesome! The car chase was super fun too!

But then everything went down the toilet. Coz in the next scene Mac was complaining to Bozer about how Desi wasn’t spending time with him and avoiding his date attempts. In this scene they retconned Bozer too. For the first time, Bozer encouraged Mac to go ask Desi out and fix their relationship.

Normally Bozer would never do such a thing. Why? Bcoz he’s been against a romantic relationship between them ever since Desi first showed up in 3x14. Bozer thought it was a bad idea from the start, called them Mesi (messy), he didn’t think it was a good idea to bring Desi back on the team in 4x01, coz MD break up was NUCLEAR. So up until 5x03 Bozer was never on Team MacDesi. Lets also remember this exchange between them:

In 4x12 when Bozer was trying to save Mac and Riley’s lives, he turns to Desi... 

Bozer: Desi, back me up here.

Desi: Sometimes we need to sacrifice the things we love for the greater good.

So after 4x12, one would only expect that his thoughts on MD would get stronger. But guess what? Bozer is now supporting MD. Just like that. I don’t buy it writers, sorry.

Back to the scene… Mac wants to go on a date with Desi. And he is so desperate about it. We had to witness one of the most awkward scenes between them. Not only that but we had to sit through Riley throwing smiles at MD, saying her feelings for Mac was just Codex adrenaline. Riley, who couldn’t watch any interaction between MD, is now totally cool with them!

And lets just say that Riley was pretending she’s over Mac, that she lied to Bozer bcoz she’s trying to move on. We already watched her having feelings for Mac, hiding those feelings and pining for him. Her one-sided love can’t drive the plot anymore. 

Besides she didn’t need to give her blessings to MD. It was an overkill. I really hated the scene where she says “Don’t screw up this time” to Mac…That was totally out of character for Riley.  

Riley who reminded Desi that Russ & her were gonna nuke them,

Riley who said she went after Mac coz she trusted him &asked Desi "Why didn't you?",

Riley who risked it all to protect Mac, tells Mac not to screw it up with Desi.

By saying those words, Riley makes it known that Mac was the one screwing up his rl with Desi. Desi had no fault. Once again the writers used my favorite character to prop my least favorite character. Shame on you!

***

I’m not gonna talk about every MacDesi scene in this episode. But let me just say that the writers turned Mac into a desperate, begging, lovesick puppy. He asked Desi for a date like 5 times, apologized twice. Kissed her out of the blue. Bcoz lets face it, that scene was so unnecessary. Nobody was onto them, the police car was passing by slowly and if the police were really suspicious, why would they look at the couple kissing instead of checking who’s in the car? So stupid. Oh and while they were kissing for minutes with great lighting and all, General Ma escaped. Mac acting this stupid, is not something we are used to see. But what you gonna do? I guess love is not only blind but also destroyes brain cells in the process.

Anyway, Mac literally begging Desi to go on a date with him was agonizing to watch. Every time he offers a new dating idea, Desi’s answer is NAH. Back in the picnic scene she made it sound like she wanted to date Mac, but of course she needs to make him suffer first!

I only like to point out the scene where Mac –finally- opened up to Desi about the fishing trip he and his father went together. This story is obviously precious to him. He called it a happy memory. Clearly he misses his father, still mourning for his loss. So he shared his happy memory and asked if she would like to go fishing with him. Desi’s answer? “Not gonna go fishing with you as our first date!” You can read the dissapointment on his face. And my heart breaks for Mac but this kind of treatment is something he’s asking for.

He is desperate to get Desi back. The fact that they are the worst match ever, doesn’t change sh*t. Mac wants Desi and he loves Desi for god knows why.

***

Btw- the whole “lets blame only Mac for Codex and ignore Desi’s wrongdoings” plot is disgusting. Yes, Mac suffocating Desi and Russ to escape Phoenix with Scarlett was wrong. Yes he hurt her, yes in a sense he betrayed her. AND HE APOLOGIZED. But what about Desi? What about her betrayel? 

First they made Riley apologize to Desi for following Mac and now they made Mac apologize… But no apologies from Desi. The writers are obviously worshipping Desi and they’re ready to sacrifice every character to make her look “perfect”. I’m sorry but i’m not here to watch the Desi show, or more MacDesi nonsense.

***

Mac said Desi is the woman he loves… but not only that, she is also the woman who guided him back. And the RETCON is really strong with this scene.

Lets remember…

In 4x08 Mac loses his father, at the end of the episode Desi wants to go with Mac but Mac stops her, telling he’d see her tomorrow.

In 4x09 Desi says he can share his burden with her, Mac’s not interested, he says what he needs is to stop Codex.

In 4x10 Mac makes apocalypse kits for Riley and Desi. Desi’s so happy she got a crossbow and didn’t think those kits were a bad sign. But Riley notices that Mac is not in a good place, he needed help and support. Riley shares her concerns about Mac with Desi. She probably thinks it’s not up to her to be the one doing that when Desi is the girlfriend. So after her conversation with Riley, Desi makes soup and gives Mac a compass. Saying he’s not lost (he clearly was tho). She askes if everything’s ok, he looks different but Mac says, he’s just tired.

In 4x12 Mac is lying in bed, lost in his own mind, he gets up, leaves the compass on her side of the nightstand… On the run he ignores Desi’s calls.

Then things get really ugly for MacDesi. Desi says “You are so drunk on somescrewed-up cocktail of your mom, your aunt, Codex science...”… She says “You're compromised”…  Mac was just trying to get Scarlett on their side to stop Codex but Desi couldn’t see it. She thought Mac was losing it!

And then Desi sides with Russ and turns her back on Mac. Russ dismisses Mac from the Codex mission. Mac's forced to improvise. Bcoz he wants to stop Codex without bloodshed.

So as you can see they completely re-wrote the events of 4x12 to fix MD.

Desi says: “I had front-row seats to the war that raged in you last year, and I can't do that again. Lose you.”

She was ready to sacrifice him for the greater good. But yeah, sure! Why not.

Mac says: “Des, I know it looked like I was lost, but you were there the whole time, guiding me back home.”

THE WHOLE TIME.

In 3 times she “tried” to be there for him, Mac didn't let her in emotionally but lets just say that she brought him back to his senses.

Lets just say that the compass he left on her side of the nightstand represents that it guided him back. (btw lets also ignore that the compass Mac gave Desi back was a different one. Who knows, maybe he threw it in the garbage during the pandemic and bought a new one)

Lets just forget who really brought him back. Lets just ignore what Riley did for Mac. How she saved him, how she was the one who risked everything for Mac. How she was the one there by his side when they were facing a missile.

Only if we forget and retcon history we can all buy MacDesi. 

But i can’t… I can’t forget, i’m not ok with a retconned half-ass love story that they want to sell with MD. I can’t sit through the episodes and keep watching the “flawless Desi” show.

This show isn’t entertaining to me anymore. I can’t recognize Mac, i’m pissed that my fav characters are being used as tools to prop Desi.

One last thing before i say my final goodbyes:

The lighting in this episode was so weird. In almost every scene, heavy light effects distracted me. Usually they use it when they show you a flashback, a dream or a hallucination to seperate the real-time scenes from others. But this episode had them from the start to the end. So i don’t know what to make of this.

Some of the dialogues had subtexts…

Leland to Russ: Now, I know you don't care about much in this world, but even the best of us can be blinded by those we love.

General Ma to Mac: I was blinded by him (Leland) once. I-I won't be blinded again.

Mac: Many things blind us. Anger, betrayal, even love. But sometimes, a little blindness can work to your advantage. You can create a fog that will cause the world around you to disappear.

Normally i would dive deep into the subtextland. But i don’t think the writers were trying to give some deep message or anything. 

I do believe that Mac is totally blinded by his “idea” of love… But i’m done waiting for him to open his eyes. The Mac i watched in this episode is not My Mac.

Writers made their choice. They made Mac's feelings crystal clear. He's all about Desi. At this point, Desi breaking up with him would mean nothing to me. Just like Riley still having feelings for Mac means nothing anymore.

Official accounts tweeting “There’s more to come for MacRiley” means nothing to me anymore.

Noone wants a rebound plot but unfortunately it's the only possibility they left to MacRiley. My ship is tainted forever. 

And as a Riley stan, i don’t want this Mac with my girl. She deserves better.

[green-eyed-weirdo]

If you took a sip for every broken promise, you’d end up with an empty cup

This one was supposed to be for the last day of Bechloe week, Cheating. Two months later, it’s now finally finished. The story is based on the Dutch song ‘Lippenstift’ (which translates to lipstick). 

As mentioned in the prompt; it’s about cheating. Consider yourself warned. But don’t worry, they DON’T cheat on each other!! ;)

Read below or on AO3.

The one with ‘Skip’.

Living with Chloe has always been easy. Beca feels that, from the moment the two of them met, Chloe has always been able to read her. Where others would have trouble getting past her not-so-sunny personality and her sarcasm, Chloe had always understood her. 

Growing up, Beca had built up some pretty solid walls around her, and Chloe seemed to have moved right past them. For some reason, Beca had let her. It took some time getting used to having such a happy, bubbly person around her all the time, but after Chloe had proclaimed they were going to be fast friends, all Beca could do is resign in her fate: Chloe was going to be her best friend. 

When they moved into the Bella house, Beca had realized how much she loved spending time with Chloe. She enjoyed having the other Bella’s around as well, of course, but her relationship with Chloe was on a whole other level. After only a few months of living together, they had formed such a bond, they knew what the other was thinking just by looking at them. Their friends joked about it all the time, saying how they worked and lived together, but also argued like an old married couple. 

After graduation, Beca had landed a job as a junior music producer at BFD records in New York City. Chloe didn’t think twice when Beca had asked her to come to New York with her and so their old married couple habits moved to New York with them. They had settled into a comfortable routine pretty quickly and Beca was very happy with the direction in which her life was going. Except for one thing. Or rather, one person. She was moving in the wrong direction.

Living with Chloe had always been easy, until about four months ago. Both of them had been casually dating here and there, the occasional hook-up, but nothing too serious. Beca has no idea what exactly happened four months ago, but from one day to the next, Chloe had started desperately looking for love. Every guy she met, every date she had, they were all ‘the one’ until they weren’t. 

Beca hates seeing Chloe like this. To her, Chloe is the kindest, most beautiful, most amazing woman in the world and with this serial dating she’s been doing lately, it seems she has lost all respect for herself. It breaks Beca’s heart because Beca loves Chloe. Like, really loves her. Of course, she has never told her. Or anyone for that matter. No one except, surprisingly, Aubrey. 

Aubrey had called her out after the campfire at the retreat, during senior year. According to Aubrey, it was written all over Beca’s face that she was in love with her best friend. Beca had tried to deny it at first but soon had to realize there was no use. Aubrey knew, and maybe that was for the better. Now she at least had someone to confide in.

They have been in New York for almost a year now. Beca had hoped her crush on her best friend would fade, but in reality, it had only gotten stronger. She was very grateful for Aubrey, who was always there, on the other end of the phone, when she needed to vent.

Over the past few months, since Chloe started seriously looking for ‘the one’, that has happened more frequently. On more than one occasion, Aubrey had tried to convince her to just tell Chloe the truth about her feelings. Sadly, Beca had never been very good with words and had not yet been able to say the words out loud.

===

On her way home after a long day at the studio, Beca tries to get her mind off the pile of work still waiting for her on her desk. She is looking forward to a relaxing evening, watching movies and having dinner with her best friend. As she gets off the subway, she thinks to send Chloe a quick text to check if the coast is clear.

BECA: On my way home now, be there in 10  Is he gone?

CHLOE: Not yet Getting dressed now He’ll be gone before you get here, promise

BECA: Good. See you in a bit.

CHLOE: xxx

===

Chloe had been dating this dude for about two months now. Honestly, she couldn’t even call it dating. Chloe had been seeing this dude. This married dude, to be exact. 

They’d met in a coffee shop downtown and hit it off right away. After lots of texting and two dates, Chloe had found herself head over heels in love with this guy. Beca, however, had a bad feeling about him. For example, he would always come to their apartment, Chloe never went to his. Also, he rarely took Chloe out in public. But the thing that annoyed Beca the most, is that he would go days on end without texting Chloe back or answering his phone. That usually happens right when he leaves their apartment, after what Chloe calls ‘a date’. (In reality, he comes over, they eat something and have sex. Beca does her best to keep her opinions to herself though). 

Chloe went through a few stages of emotion with that last one. In the beginning, she would get worried, later on, she’d get pissed and now, after two months, Chloe just seems sad when she doesn’t get a response for days. 

When Beca had carefully brought this up to her best friend, Chloe’s expression had dropped. A little embarrassed she had explained to Beca that her new lover was married. “They are separated but he is still living with his wife at the moment. But he has basically already left her,” Chloe had assured her best friend. Beca had been suspicious about the story but had left it at that. As said, that was two months ago. 

From the moment Chloe had started seeing him, Beca has gone out of her way to make sure she isn’t home when he’s there. Cheating is a sore subject for her and she really doesn’t want anything to do with the situation. Chloe understands and makes sure to inform Beca whenever he would be there. Every now and then, Beca would comment on it, but she knows Chloe has lost herself in this guy too much to listen to her anyway. 

As kind of a funny, snarky joke, Beca calls the guy ‘Skip’. She knows that’s not his real name but calling him ‘Skip’ would hopefully, eventually get her message across. The message that this guy is not going to stick around. He will skip out on her and go back to his wife soon enough and leave Chloe heartbroken. Beca was both awaiting and dreading that day.

===

Exactly ten minutes later Beca opens the door to their apartment building and walks into the stairwell. She’s exhausted from the long day she’s had and has to literally will her feet to move and carry her up the stairs. They live on the third floor, so she still has a good way to go. On her way up, she hears feet stomp down the stairs and a guy answering his phone.

“Hey, baby!” She hears him say in the sweetest voice, that almost makes her throw up in her mouth a little. “Yes, work has been insanely busy today. I know, honey, I know. I’m on my way home right now. Yes, I promise!” 

Beca stops at the landing between the first and second floor to let him pass. She glares at him as he rushes past her saying “I love you too, baby” into his phone. In his quick passing, she notices a flash of light red on his collar. She smirks to herself when she recognizes Chloe’s favorite color lipstick. “Talk your way out of that one, asshole”, she thinks.

Beca looks up in the direction of her apartment and already knows the scene she’s about to walk into.

This exact thing has happened many times before over the past two months. Beca has seen her best friend change from a bubbly, confident woman into a vulnerable girl who cries more than she smiles. It breaks her heart even thinking about it.

=== 5 weeks ago ===

Beca had been out for a drink after work with a few co-workers. Chloe had texted her earlier that her new boyfriend would be coming over, so Beca had made an effort to stay away. A little buzzed she walked up the stairs of their apartment building, hoping she’d stayed out long enough. Just as she headed up the final steps, she saw him coming down the stairs, phone to his ear. “Yes, baby, I’m on my way now. My meeting ran late, I’m sorry. See you in a few. Love you.” Beca looked back at the guy in disgust as he walked past her giving her no notice whatsoever. She immediately understood what was going on though and hurried up the stairs to talk to Chloe.

As she throws open the door to the apartment, she sees Chloe busy cleaning up the dishes from dinner. A little out of breath, she puts her jacket away and joins Chloe in the kitchen. 

“Chlo, you okay?” Beca noticed right away her best friend looks sad. 

“Yeah, I’m okay” Chloe lies.

“I have to tell you something. I don’t really know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it.” Chloe looks at her with a questioning look. “I think he’s lying to you, Chlo. I passed him on the stairs and he was calling her ‘baby’ over the phone. It definitely didn’t sound like a couple getting a divorce.” Beca sees Chloe is avoiding to look at her. 

Without a word, Chloe walks out of the kitchen and into the living room. She sits down on the couch and keeps looking at her hands. With a soft voice, she says “I know”. Beca had followed her best friend into the living room and squats down in front of her. 

“You know?” 

“Yeah… He’s still married.” And with those words, Chloe breaks down. “He says their marriage is practically over. He loves me, he really does, Bec. He’s going to leave her soon.” Beca doesn’t really know what to say. 

“Chloe, how… why…” She is shocked that her beautiful, amazing best friend would allow someone to treat her like that.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” Chloe blubbers through her tears. Beca stands up at that and walks to the kitchen. She opens the fridge and gets out two bottles of beer and a tub of ice cream. As she walks back, she tells Chloe to pick a movie. Chloe shoots her a grateful smile as they settle on the couch.

===

Beca is startled out of her memory by a door slamming a few floors up. Her exhaustion forgotten, she jogs the rest of the way up the stairs, to get to Chloe as fast as she can. As she opens the door, she immediately spots her sitting on the couch, tear-stained face, staring straight ahead. Beca pushes down the anger she feels coming up at the sight of her heartbroken best friend and springs into action.

She goes through her very familiar routine of getting two beer bottles and the tub of ice cream and sets it down on the coffee table. She sits down on the couch next to Chloe and pulls her into a hug. After about a minute, she looks at Chloe and gently wipes the tears from her face. She gives her the remote and tells her to pick a movie while she gets comfortable on the couch. They don’t talk about it this time.

===

As the final credits of the movie start rolling, Beca looks down at her lap and notices Chloe has fallen asleep. Beca had been playing with Chloe’s hair for the last 20 minutes and she knows this has a calming effect on her. She carefully gets up and covers Chloe with a blanket to let her rest for a little bit. “Dinner can wait”, she thinks.

Beca takes out her phone and while walking to her bedroom, she thumbs the number of the person she needs to talk to right now. With a shaky, watery breath she puts the phone to her ear.

Aubrey answers on the first ring and before she can even explain why she’s calling, tears start rolling down her face. Weirdly enough, Aubrey has always been good at calming her down and this time is no different. Beca goes on to tell her what has happened tonight. “I wish she’d realize he’s never going to leave his wife,” Aubrey says with a sigh. 

“I know. She is honestly worth so much more than this, it breaks my heart. This is going to sound so mean, but… I wish he would just end it. Or that his wife would find out. I mean, I saw Chloe’s lipstick on his collar when I passed him on the stairs.” she says it with a smirk and hears Aubrey snort a laugh. “But in all seriousness, Chloe would be heartbroken, but it would set her free, you know?” Aubrey hums in agreement.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Aubs.” Beca pleads with her friend. 

“I mean, there is one thing you could do…” Aubrey starts hesitantly. “You could, you know… tell her how you feel.”

“I have been though! I’ve been telling her for weeks…”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Beca.” Aubrey interrupts her.

“Yeah, I know…”

“I really think she’d want to know. I’m pretty sure it’ll change things.”

Beca isn’t convinced confessing her feelings to Chloe will change anything, but Aubrey seems to be pretty certain. With a promise to think about it, they wrap up their call and hang up. 

Expressing her feelings has never really been Beca’s strong suit. Music on the other hand… totally her thing. She picks up her guitar and starts playing, humming to the soft melody that seems to come naturally.

===

Oeh you, I thought you knew better Always thought you were better than that

Oeh you, are so naive, so lost in dreams So in love, head over heels, and he...

=== 3 weeks ago ===

She’d known Chloe was with ‘Skip’ so she again made an effort to stay out as long as she possibly could. She hated seeing Chloe all smiley and heart-eyed when she was with this guy because she knew what was to come after he closed the door behind him. Chloe would yet again be a mess, and Beca would sit with her all night, picking up the pieces.

Beca had come home that night to a particularly heart-wrenching scene. He had been standing by the front door, ringtone screaming from his back pocket while the two said their goodbyes. She’d slipped past him into the apartment without giving them a second look and walked straight into her room to put her work stuff away. 

Walking back out into the living room she heard him say: “Chloe, I really have to go. She keeps calling, I can’t keep dodging her calls.”  She sees him give Chloe a quick kiss saying “thanks, this was fun” and with that, he leaves the apartment. It’s clear Chloe wants to say something else (probably beg him to stay a little longer) but her face drops as he rushes out the door, and she closes it quietly. 

She turns around to see Beca looking at her with a sympathetic look on her face. “Please Bec, don’t. Not right now.” Chloe looks away and starts walking towards her bedroom.

“Then when Chloe?” Beca challenges her best friend. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Chloe looks at her with a defiant look in her eyes. “Do what exactly? Please Beca, enlighten me with your expert opinion.” Chloe knows she’s not playing fair and she sees it on Beca’s face too. Beca has had her fair share of experience with a dad leaving her family for another woman. Still, she just couldn’t help herself, she just feels so much frustration.

“Chlo...” Beca pleads “you know he’s not being real with you. Please, Chloe… he’s not worth all this!” Beca’s voice gets louder as she speaks the words she’s been holding in for a while. 

“No! You’ve got it all wrong, Beca! He doesn’t love her anymore, he loves me. He promised he’ll leave her soon and then we can be together. It will happen, you’ll see!” Beca sees hope in Chloe’s eyes. It sparks anger inside of her that she didn’t know was there.

“He tells you all these sweet little things, all these promises… Chloe, he goes home and tells her the exact same things!” Beca sees a tear rolling down Chloe’s face as she looks down at her feet. 

Beca takes Chloe’s hands in hers and wills her voice to soften before she speaks again. “Honey, I know you really like him, that you really enjoy spending time with him. But you can never go out together, never leave this apartment. Chlo, he’ll never hold your hand or kiss you in a public place.” Chloe looks down at her hands in Beca’s and then looks up at Beca. Without a word, she pulls her hands free, walks into her bedroom and closes the door behind her. 

Beca releases the breath she was holding and wipes the tear that has run down her face. She can hear Chloe crying in her room and her heart breaks for her best friend. She turns around and walks to the fridge to get the ice cream and beer. She’ll give her a moment to collect herself, but after that, as always, she will be there to pick up the pieces.

===

Beca continues humming the melody and writes down the next set of lyrics that flow from her brain. She feels the lyrics so strongly. Does Chloe not know how beautiful she is? She doesn’t understand why she would let this guy treat her like this. All the questions swimming in her head just flow out of her.

What do you want to be? Someone's lover or their biggest secret? Will you set yourself free? Or will you choose someone who’ll never be there when you need it?

Ask yourself, even if you’re hurt; Aren’t you worth a lot more than just the lipstick on his shirt?

I see your lipstick on his collar, babe but you are worth so much more than that I see it on his collar, babe but you are worth so much more than that

====

Beca feels a tear roll down her face as she goes through what she’s got so far. Writing lyrics has never been something she was really good at, but apparently, this particular situation had given her the inspiration she needed. She starts from the top and plays through it again, in the hopes the next part will come naturally.

=== last week ===

Wednesdays are Beca’s work from home days. She gets to sleep in a little and just spends the day doing administrative stuff and playing around on her mixing board. She really enjoys these days, mostly because Wednesday happens to be Chloe’s day off. They have breakfast together, Beca starts work while Chloe does some housework, they have lunch together, Beca goes back to work while Chloe goes out for groceries and they finish the day together in the kitchen, Beca wrapping up the last of her work while Chloe cooks dinner. It’s very domestic and Beca loves it.

However, this Wednesday was a little bit different. They’d just finished lunch when Chloe’s phone started buzzing on the table. “It’s him” she shoots Beca an apologetic smile while she steps away from her. Beca feels instantly annoyed but decides not to dwell on it for too long. She puts the dishes away and walks to her room to continue her work. As she passes Chloe’s bedroom, she hears her say “okay, yeah, sure… you can come over.” She sighs and rolls her eyes at that. She makes sure she closes her bedroom door behind her and puts on her noise-cancelling headphones, just to be safe.

It’s around 2:30 pm when she feels her bladder is about to explode. She curses herself for not thinking of emptying her bladder before and fleetingly looks around to see if she might be able to avoid leaving her room. She really does not want to hear any sounds coming from Chloe’s room or worse, run into ‘Skip’. Reluctantly, she pulls her headphones from her head and puts them next to her mixing board. She quickly opens the bedroom door and jogs down the hall to the bathroom to relieve herself. 

On her way back to her room, she hears Chloe’s bedroom door open and ‘Skip’ comes walking down the hall. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers, towel slung over his shoulder and he shoots Beca a seductive smile and a wink. Beca has never rolled her eyes louder. She stops when she sees Chloe sitting on the edge of her bed, wearing nothing but her bra and panties, t-shirt in her hands. It looks like she had been in the middle of getting dressed when something caught her attention. Beca follows Chloe’s line of sight and sighs, while she leans against the doorframe. Chloe is brought out of her stare and shoots Beca a sad smile while she pulls the shirt over her head.

“He always takes that off when he’s here.” Chloe motioned towards the bedside table. There, next to his wallet and his cellphone, lies his wedding ring. “After he’s done washing my scent from his body, he puts it back on like nothing happened.” Chloe then proceeds to put on some shorts and looks at Beca. “Tell me what you’re thinking?” Beca clears her throat.

“I mean, it’s…” Beca needs some time to think about her words. “It’s nice of him to take it off for you, I guess?” Chloe shoots Beca a surprised look. 

“You don’t have to do that.”

“What?”

“Sugarcoat it. Tell me what you’re really thinking about. Please. I need to hear it.”

“Well…” Beca starts uncertain, “I think you’re right about him washing your scent of his body. That’s probably why he always wants to shower here.” Chloe nods in understanding. 

“Also, you and I both know what the next couple of days or even weeks are going to be like. He’s not going to answer your calls, he will not text you back. He has probably already erased all your texts and deleted his call log. He is going to disappear from your life and go back to her.” 

“He’s never going to choose me, is he?” she sighs, “Nobody ever does.”

Just as Beca wants to ask her what she means by that, they hear the bathroom door open. Chloe looks at Beca with a sad smile as Beca walks backwards to her room and closes the door. She doesn’t put on the headphones this time. She hears Chloe snap back into her bubbly self and say goodbye to ‘Skip’. 

===

Can you live with that knowledge? Can you live with that thought?

Babe, you know that this is not the real deal

What do you want to be? Someone's lover or his biggest secret? Will you set yourself free? Or will you choose someone who’ll always be there when you need it?

Ask yourself, even if you’re hurt; Aren’t you worth a lot more than just the lipstick on his shirt?

I see your lipstick on his collar, babe but you are worth so much more than that I see it on his collar, babe but you are worth so much more than that

I see it on his collar, yet you are worth way more than that

maybe I could be the key because you mean so much more to me

===

Beca rubs her eyes as they’ve gotten a little watery and blows out a puff of air. She takes a moment to compose herself, putting down her guitar and taking a sip of water. She had really been pouring her heart out in this song. She’s glad she thought of recording herself on her phone when she started playing with the melody.

A quiet sniff behind her catches her attention and she jerks her head around, startled by the sudden interruption. She feels her cheeks flush as she realizes Chloe probably overheard at least part of the song. “Chlo…” she starts but can’t really think of anything else to say, panic set in. 

Chloe sees tears well up in Beca’s eyes as she wipes away her own and rushes to sit down on the bed next to her. She takes Beca’s hands into her own and sees Beca is actively trying to avoid eye contact. Chloe knows exactly what that means, so she scoots closer to pull Beca into a hug. She holds on a little longer, squeezes her a bit tighter until she feels Beca relax in her arms.

When they both pull back, Chloe looks at Beca with a soft smile. “Thank you”, she speaks the words softly, not really trusting her voice to work with all the emotion she’s feeling. She wipes another tear from her face and lets out a watery laugh at Beca’s puzzled expression. “For the beautiful song, I mean. It’s about me, isn’t it?”

Beca hesitates for a moment but then decides this is her chance to put it all on the table, “ehm, yeah… it is. Chlo, I just…” she struggles to find the words to explain how she’s feeling, but as per usual, Chloe reads her like an open book. 

“I know, Becs.” 

She looks up at Chloe and finds she’s already looking at her. Chloe uses her thumb to wipe the last of Beca’s tears away and keeps her hands on each side of her face. As they look into each other's eyes, Beca feels the air shift around them. “Yeah?” 

“mhmm, I heard you.” Chloe hopes Beca understands she means she didn’t just hear the song but understood what her best friend was trying to tell her. She can tell Beca is nervous so she decides to not drag this moment out any longer. With a quick mental prayer, she didn’t read the situation completely wrong, she closes the distance between them. 

Beca sighs into the kiss. Kissing Chloe feels even better than she imagined it would. She feels Chloe smile against her lips and thinks (hopes) she might be feeling the same way.  Suddenly, Beca feels like she can’t breathe and so she pulls back. Chloe looks at her a little surprised and Beca immediately wants to apologize. “I’m sorry. I… Shit, did I fuck this up already?” Chloe takes Beca's hands again and gives her a quick peck on the lips. 

“Nope, don’t worry. What happened?” 

“I don’t know. I’m just a little overwhelmed, I guess. I couldn’t breathe for a moment.”

Chloe smirks at her, “Did I take your breath away, babe?” 

“Oh my god”, Beca laughs and she feels herself relax again.

“So…” Beca starts, “would you, maybe… want to go on a date with me sometime?” 

“I’d really like that, Becs.” Chloe says with a soft smile on her face. 

Chloe stands up from the bed and pulls Beca up. She doesn’t let go of Beca’s hand as they walk towards the kitchen together. As Beca heads for the fridge, Chloe leans over the counter and pulls out her phone. Beca takes two steps back and stands next to her. “What are you doing?” she curiously asks her. 

“I’m texting ‘Skip’ ”, she says with a wink. Beca smiles hearing Chloe use the stupid nickname. She gives Chloe some space to compose her text and busies herself in the kitchen. “Can you come here a sec?” Chloe asks her after a moment. Beca turns around and stands next to Chloe, looking at her expectantly.

“What’s up?” 

“I want you to see this,” Chloe says mysteriously. Beca raises an eyebrow and puts her chin on Chloe’s shoulder to see her phone. She sees her open the contact info for Chicago , clicks on ‘block this caller’ and then proceeds to ‘delete contact’. Chloe puts her phone down on the counter and turns to look at Beca with a sad smile on her face. “I’m really sorry about, you know… everything.” Beca hums in understanding. 

“I really don’t know what I was thinking. No, honestly, I do know… The thing is, I’ve been in love with you for so long, Beca. And I didn’t think you felt the same way, so I just… I don’t know, tried to move on, I guess? I didn’t really go about it the right w…” Chloe’s ramble gets cut off by a sudden kiss and she sighs in relief.

Pulling back, she playfully bites her lip and looks at Beca. “I’m so in love with you, Beca Mitchell. It’s always been you.”

Beca pulls Chloe into a hug and holds her for a moment. When she pulls back she pecks her lips one more time and walks back to the fridge. As she pulls it open she looks back at Chloe and asks: “ice cream and beer?”

Chloe shakes her head. “How about dinner and wine?”

[justathoughtfulangel]

The One That Came Back (Draco Malfoy Mini Series, Final Part)

Hi everyone! Here is the third and final part of my Draco Malfoy Mini Series, The One. If you’d like to see more details about the series as a whole and a summary of this part, you may do so here. If you’d like to read more about my OC, Amara Grimaldi, you can do so here.

PLEASE read parts one and two before you read this! You can find part one, The One Who Was Lost, here; you can find part two, The One That Got Away, here.

Word count: 4, 706

Please don’t hesitate to message me if you have any questions/concerns/comments.

Whenever you see “~~~”, I am transitioning to a new scene. If you see “~” instead, we’re in the same scene but different characters are being shown.

If you have a hard time following the scenes, please use this scenes list as a resource.

Happy Reading!

Amara sat in her office, overlooking the Hogwarts grounds from her window. Night was upon them, and most of the castle was asleep. Snow fell down gently, forming a soft blanket that glittered in the moonlight. Scrolls of parchment lay on her desk, already graded and ready to return to her 3rd-year students. She took a moment to look around absentmindedly, thinking of her journey here.

After the war, Amara took her friends to her family’s vacation home in Paris. She didn’t admit it at the time, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione understood that she didn’t have the strength to see her childhood home and not have her father there to welcome her. They stayed for a month or so, slowly healing from the wounds of the war. It was a break they all desperately needed.

Hermione and Amara both saw value in returning to Hogwarts for their last year of school, while Harry and Ron opted to begin working as Aurors immediately. The Ministry welcomed the heroes with open arms. After finishing her education, Hermione, too, joined the Ministry. For years, Amara wished to become a Potions professor at Hogwarts. She worked toward that dream by creating two of her own potions within the next two years, wanting to substantiate her skills beyond those written on her school transcript.

The first potion she created was Lamisquia, a potion that put Amara in a great deal of danger during its inception. Lamisquia was the vampire-equivalent to Wolfsbane, yet even stronger. It had the ability to return vampires to their human form. Testing it had been disastrous, but it was ultimately successful.

The next potion she made was Sirpotalis, an elixir to lengthen the lifetime of plants. Amara’s invention was greatly needed in the Wizarding World; it could fight food shortages and also nearly immortalize plants such as Gillyweed, Asphodel, Belladonna, and many other valuable ingredients often utilized in potions.

During this time, Ron finally admitted his feelings for Hermione. They were wed within the next year. Not long after, Harry and Ginny married as well. Life was slowly moving on for everyone. She took the time to meet her friends as often as she could; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Amara often had lunch together at The Leaky Cauldron, The Three Broomsticks, and a variety of Muggle restaurants in London. It had taken some time, but the four were leading very peaceful lives.

Beyond her involvement in the Second Wizarding War - seeing herself commemorated in new History books and Chocolate Frog cards felt strange, to say the least - and her family name, Amara had created a name for herself, one she took pride in. After taking a well-deserved break, Amara took the place of Professor Slughorn when he retired.

But, even as everything was falling into place, Amara could never be truly happy. After all, one piece was missing. She hadn’t seen or heard from Draco since the War. Her thoughts were stained with the images of him walking away from her. She could still feel his hand slipping out of hers. The Malfoys occasionally appeared in The Daily Prophet; editorials and opinion pieces on the innocence of past supporters of Voldemort were popular with the average reader.

She had tried to move on, she really did. Amara had forced herself to go on some dates but gave up on the endeavor eventually. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the company of these other men… they just weren’t him. He was a plague on her heart and mind that she couldn’t dispel.

Blinking away tears, Amara locked her office for the night and Flooed to her home. The peaceful silence in her childhood home brought her some solace. On the way up the stairs, she paused. Her eyes fell on the painting of her parents and her hand came up to clutch their rings, still dangling from the thin golden chain she never removed.

Even when they were both gone, Amara felt their love radiating from her memories and the colored canvas. It gave Amara the hope she desperately needed. Perhaps she wouldn’t have a love like theirs in her own life, but the memory of her parents’ love would be enough. It had to be. It was all she had left.

~~~

There she was, night after night, writhing in excruciating pain on the mahogany floor of his home. The pleased screeches of his aunt, no matter how loud, weren’t enough to drown out her screams. Each one stabbed his heart, leaving a searing burn there indefinitely. Crimson blood trickled down her forearm and colored the wood beneath her. He was shackled; his strength wasn’t enough to break free of his restraints and go to her. She shrieked louder. Her blood spilled faster. His chains squeezed him tighter.

Draco jolted awake as he did every morning. A thin layer of sweat painted his skin. His exhausted eyes, courtesy of months of tortuous nights, contrasted deeply with his alabaster skin. The sun was just beginning to rise, lighting up his small but luxurious London flat. In his weary stupor, Draco shoved his sheets aside, heading to the bathroom.

The face in the mirror was pale, sallow. Light had left Draco’s eyes long ago. He, quite likely, had forgotten how to smile. He had no reason to smile. Though Veratiserum had proven the true thoughts and actions of him and his family, there were scars Draco had to manage, scars that refused to heal. He tried to lose himself in the crowds of London. The large population of Muggles made no difference to Draco, not anymore. In fact, he rather appreciated it. Muggles did not view him and his family with disdain. To a Muggle he crossed on the street, he was no one.

Draco didn’t know what he was trying to find in his solitude. He just knew that solitude was the only thing he could bear. He had no desire to listen to his father speak of marrying him to Astoria Greengrass. His mother’s loving concern, while endearing, was nearly suffocating. Draco needed silence. While the silence brought him peace, it couldn’t stifle everything. It couldn’t stifle the haunting memories. It couldn’t stifle his hopelessness. It couldn’t stifle how much he ached for Amara.

Amara. The one person he wished to see most. Draco knew he didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but he knew he had it anyway. Somehow, she forgave him every time. It was something he did not understand. She had explained it once before; Amara said she forgave him because she knew him, the real him. But how could she? Draco no longer knew who he was, he hadn’t for quite some time. The version of him Amara always forgave no longer existed.

As Draco sat near the window, flipping through the Daily Prophet, an owl tapped against the glass, a letter bearing the Hogwarts Crest held in its beak….

~~~

Laughter and chatter rang throughout the Great Hall. Amara sat with Neville, as usual; both had grown closer since they began teaching. Just recently, Neville and Luna had broken up amicably and Amara was one of the few people Neville spoke freely to. Amara could see how much Neville loved her, but even he agreed that perhaps he and Luna were not meant to be. Just then, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and stood, the desserts disappearing before them.

Unlike other nights, however, Minerva did not just bid the students a good night. “Now that we’re all fed and ready to end another day at Hogwarts, I have one last announcement to make. Within the next week, a few old students will be returning to Hogwarts to come speak to you all about their experiences, sit in your classes, and have volunteered to answer your questions about life after school. They will be here next Monday and shall stay for a few days. Be prepared with some questions and be sure to learn from their experiences!”

Amara smiled to herself, wondering who she’d get to see again. Harry, Ron, and Hermione hadn’t mentioned anything to her, so it was possible they couldn’t make it. Her thoughts flitted to Draco once more, but the likelihood of him accepting such an invitation was low. She had no idea where he was. Amara scolded herself for indulging the thought, turning her attention back to Neville once more.

~~~

Three days later, Amara walked around her classroom, returning numerous rolls of parchment to her 6th-year students. Some of the lot had a hard time seeing her as a Professor, given that she once roamed these halls as a student alongside them. This never bothered Amara. She spoke to them as she would with acquaintances: somewhat formal, but not with an air of authority.

“Now, based on your essays, some of you don’t have a solid understanding of The Draught of Living Death, and that’s perfectly alright. It’s a dreadfully tricky potion, which is why I would like everyone to have a solid theoretical understanding of it before we attempt to brew it.” Amara could not get any further with her lesson, however; she was interrupted by someone she wasn’t expecting to see today.

“I dunno, I could brew it successfully in 6th year.” Harry sat in the back of the classroom, Ron right beside him. “Because you cheated, Harry.” Both men grinned widely, mirroring the expression on Amara’s face. “Stop crashing her lesson, you two.” Hermione stood behind Ron, her eyes shining. The murmurs of surprise from the students had died down. Not many had seen this group together since the end of the war. The three friendly intruders hushed then, allowing Amara to get back to her lesson, though without much success. They had set the classroom abuzz, and Professor Grimaldi could not stop smiling.

~~~

A grand feast had been prepared in the honor of the alumni attending. Amara had seen numerous familiar faces: the Patil twins, Justin Finch-Fetchley, Seamus Finnigan, Oliver Wood, the Greengrass sisters, Theodore Nott… But no Draco.

No matter how much she missed him, Amara’s mood could not be dampened by the memory of him tonight. Never did she imagine being back in the Great Hall with her dearest friends, laughing and sharing a meal together without a care in the world. Hogwarts was once again their home, bright and welcoming.

Neville, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together, regaling each other with stories and fond memories. The five were in the midst of discussing the Yule Ball, with Harry mentioning his pleasant surprise at seeing Neville come in very late into the night. Amara momentarily remembered her date: Dominic Murtaugh from Durmstrang. He was nice enough, but she had left him rather rudely following Ron’s jealous outburst. Not to mention, Draco had been staring daggers at the bloke all night.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw just a flash of a platinum blonde head; it disappeared far too quickly. Amara did not indulge the thought. She would not let herself hope. Certainly, her mind was only imagining it…

~

Draco arrived at Hogwarts hours ago and had managed to avoid most people – even the woman he wanted to see most. It was a large enough castle, and he knew where he could hide. He couldn’t stop himself. He had no reason to anymore. There was no threat, no more excuses. He would be the man Amara saw and loved.

Even so, when he saw her after years, just a hundred feet away, he paused. Draco would never want or love anyone more than he had ever loved Amara. But what if she no longer cared for him? She had every reason to stop. How many times had he hurt her? He had failed her over and over. Did Amara even deserve to have someone like him in her life? Draco had given her too much misery, and he had no desire to give her any more.

~~~

The next morning, Amara was setting up for her lesson with the Hufflepuff and Slytherin 1st year students. Eleanor Tregor, a muggleborn Slytherin student, walked to her seat timidly. Amara smiled warmly at the girl, who looked down at something and then back up at her professor. Her behavior was intriguing.

Finding some bravery, Eleanor approached Amara, showing her the Chocolate Frog card enclosed in her hand. “Excuse me Professor, is this you?”

AMARA GRIMALDI

Currently Potions Master at Hogwarts

One of the many heroes in the Second Wizarding War, Amara Grimaldi worked alongside the Chosen One and was instrumental to the downfall of the Dark Lord. Afterwards, she created two potions, Lamisquia and Sirpotalis, which have brought plentiful benefits to the magical world. By those who know her, she is described as unfailingly kind and collected in the face of adversity.

Amara’s smile was one of wisdom and humility. “Yes, Eleanor, that is me.” The shy student said nothing more, seemingly intimidated by her teacher now as she shuffled back to her desk. Amara moved away from her desk and kneeled beside her. “What’s the matter, dear?” Eleanor took a shaky breath, her soft brown eyes anxious and upset. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be good… something worth remembering. The other Slytherins make fun of me. They say I don’t belong in Slytherin because I’m not from their world.”

Part of Amara’s heart throbbed in memory. She knew someone who held such beliefs once, and she knew the pain of being on the receiving end of such insults. “Eleanor, you were Sorted to the Slytherin house because of who you are within and who you are meant to be. The Sorting Hat saw ambition and a desire to achieve within you. I know it will come to fruition someday. One of my dearest friends is a muggleborn, and she is a much greater witch than I am.”

Other students were filtering into the classroom now. Eleanor sniffled softly but then smiled. “Thank you, Professor Grimaldi.” Amara nodded and put a supportive hand on Eleanor’s shoulder as she stood, beginning the lesson soon after. A Hufflepuff student, Trevor Yannick, had taken a seat next to Eleanor; Amara could sense a friendship in the making.

~

Classes were in session. The halls of Hogwarts were rather quiet between hours. A few 5th-year students mulled about during their morning free period, but Draco remained out of view. He was far past the age of climbing into the trees near the Black Lake, and yet here he sat anyhow. The waters of the Lake were calm; Draco’s mind was anything but.

Amara was the same, and yet she was different. He had only seen her from a distance, seemingly consoling a student before the class began. The changes were mostly physical: her hair was longer, her eyes not as vivid. Draco could once see the light of the world encompassed in them. What had made it fizzle out?

Ambrosi had died, and he was not there for her. She traversed through dangerous terrains alone in her quests to pioneer her potions, and she had no one to come home to. Draco had lost her. With what right could he go to her and say he loves her?

“Malfoy?” The voice came from below him. Only someone who would know to look for him here would be able to find him. The person who spoke to him was Harry Potter. Draco descended as swiftly as he could, and the pair said nothing to each other for a few moments. The last time they had spoken, Harry had saved Draco’s life.

Harry’s mind was occupied with how wrong he had been about Malfoy. If it wasn’t for his help – and the artful deceit of his mother – the world as they knew it would be drastically divergent to what it was today.

“How are you, Potter?” Pleasantries were not needed, and they were perhaps excessive, but Draco could not think of anything else to say. Harry was not about to indulge them. “Have you spoken to Amara yet? Have you told her you came back?”

Draco’s answer was in his silence. “Look, Malfoy…” Harry had many things he would like to say, yet none seemed to come to his tongue. “I don’t know what holds you back, and I won’t tell you what to do. All I know is that Amara has never loved anyone the way she loves you. You haven’t lost her yet, but you can’t expect her to wait for you forever.”

Harry knew there was a great probability Amara would never love another but playing on Malfoy’s vulnerabilities was the best way to motivate him. He had learned that much of him after years of being his rival.

Draco said nothing. Harry had pointed out another thing Draco always had: not only her forgiveness but also her patience. He was silent for many more moments, and Harry, too, said nothing else. Then, he broke from his trance. “Thank you… Harry.”

Harry blinked in shock for a moment but then smiled with a little hesitation. He was like a brother to Amara; if Harry was in Amara’s life, he would be in Draco’s, too. “Go get her, Draco.”

~~~

The sights from the Astronomy Tower were breathtaking, as always. It was snowing once more, though Amara wasn’t very cold. She was remembering the last winter night she stood on this balcony. Draco had joined her those many years ago; it was one of their last real conversations.

Shaking her head as if to dispel the memory, Amara wrapped her shawl around herself, turning to leave. Perhaps she would Floo back to her home for the night. Yet, she wasn’t alone. “Amara…”

She was in front of him. Draco had seen her in his horrifying dreams every night: the angel he could never save from the pain and darkness. Here she was. It was all, and it was everything.

Amara lost her voice. She hadn’t simply been imagining him. He had been near her, and now he was here. How many letters had she written to him, graced with her tears? They had never been sent. Those tears – her pain – was not another burden Amara would place on him. She could not stop her tears now.

“You came back…” She would ask for nothing but him. Didn’t he know by now?

“Amara, I…” Draco could not say anything else before Amara ran into his arms. All her anger and hurt momentarily subsided. Then, his arms came around her, holding her close, and she was whole again.

The snow fell near them. The winter air swam around. Yet, neither was cold. This was warmth. This was hope. This was love… There was much to say, much to do, and much to face. Draco and Amara would do it together, and that was more than enough…

~~~

Amara never believed she would be here again. It was a place she had spent quite a bit of her childhood in; it was also the site of her darkest memory. Draco’s hand squeezed hers as they looked upon Malfoy Manor from the gate. “We don’t have to do this here, Amara. Just say the word.”

She took a deep breath, saying nothing as she looked up at him. Draco’s health and being had improved greatly: his skin was no longer pale, his eyes slowly beginning to fill with life and light. “No. I should go speak to her. Not the other way around.” Narcissa was always the closest thing Amara had to a mother in her life, even after Draco distanced himself from her in their school years.

They walked through the grand gates silently. Narcissa greeted them before they even entered the foyer. She knew Amara like any mother knew their child. She knew her likes and dislikes, her tendencies, her tone when she lied… Her suffering to see Amara in pain was no different than the pain that clutched Narcissa’s heart when she saw Draco’s. Narcissa moved to hold her daughter, not saying another word.

Perhaps it was the warmth of Narcissa’s embrace that ripped a sob past Amara’s lips. She had not truly allowed herself to feel the extent of her loss and her pain. Her love for Draco, though immensely powerful in its own right, was world’s away from how she adored his mother. “I’m so sorry, my dear. I am so sorry I couldn’t protect you. Please forgive me.”

Narcissa’s tear-filled eyes looked upon her son as she held Amara. She had been able to call her son away from the war but had left Amara there. Narcissa had not even contacted her at Draco’s request.

“Please don’t apologize, Narcissa… everything is fine now. Let’s not dwell on the past.” Draco had been silent, a non-participant in this overwhelming interaction up until then. He, too, joined the embrace, holding the two women he loved to the ends of this universe and back. The three stood there, reminding themselves they were all safe and sound… they were a family that would heal together.

~~~

A few months had passed. To everyone but Amara’s surprise, Draco too became an Auror alongside Harry and Ron; his firsthand knowledge of the Dark Arts proved to be a great asset.

Draco was now well accepted by Amara’s friends; Ronald had taken some convincing, but even he couldn’t deny the changes he saw in Draco. He seemed to be an entirely different man than the boy he knew in school.

Hogwarts was closed for the summer, and Amara had whisked Draco away to the Grimaldi summer home in Paris. The two went from room to room when they arrived, reminiscing about their childhood shenanigans here. At night, they sat in front of the fireplace. Tonight, Draco lay with his head in Amara’s lap, staring at the flames and watching them dance. This was happiness. This was peace. This was where he would want to stay forever.

Amara looked down upon him as Draco shifted to meet his eyes with hers. Her fingers caressed his hair soothingly, and his brushed against her cheek with a touch as light as a feather. “Do you remember… in sixth year… Slughorn’s classroom… and he had brought Amortentia?”

Amara smiled wistfully, her eyes entranced with his. She nodded before taking a glance around this very room. It contained the memory her Amortentia held. This was the place where she would always remember Draco. He was her Draco now, and he would always be, but it was here where the Draco of her childhood – her first love – would forever remain.

“Within it, I always smell our memories from here. The fireplace, the caramel and ice cream and hot chocolate from our vacations… and you.” Draco’s hand gently held her cheek, framing her face as he pulled her down into the sweetest of kisses, sweeter than any of their memories. It was here he had to ask Amara to stay by his side forever.

Not letting his lips leave hers, Draco sat up, bringing Amara into his lap. They were wrapped up in each other, hidden in their own corner of the world. “Amara…” He had so many words planned, but they all escaped him. Draco would speak the words that came from his heart. “Years ago, I ran into a little girl at a party in my home. She wore a purple dress, yet her shoes were stained as if she had just run through some fields. She became my best friend… and she was my first love.”

Amara’s heart was racing, and as she listened, tears began to well up in her eyes. “Only, I had failed her time and time again. I left her, but she always came back to me. I hurt her, and she always forgave me. One thing I have never forgotten… is that I promised to marry her one day. It was the only promise I had made to her, and so it is one I cannot break.”

“It was right here where I had made that oath to Amara Lucianna Grimaldi, and it is here I will see it to the end.” Draco had shed a few tears as well, and his voice was held back by the force of the love he felt. “Tonight, I will not ask her to marry me. I only intend to inform her I am keeping my promise. It is tonight that I make her a new promise… a promise to protect, love, and cherish her forever.”

Though he had asked no question, it was present in his eyes. Amara answered with a kiss, and Draco’s soul felt resurrected. Healed as if it had never been harmed. For now, he had his angel, and with her, he could conquer all trials. She was his strength. She was his love. She was his home.

~~~

Three years later, the Grimaldi-Malfoy Manor was filled with sunshine, smiles, and laughter. The tiny giggles of the newest member of the family, Scorpius Draco, echoed over the bathroom tiles as he splashed his hand against the water, wetting his father’s face. He had graced the lives of his parents with his arrival nearly one year ago, and it was as if both had been revived. “Dada!”

Draco laughed as well, wiping the water from his eyes. Though both had aged some, Amara still looked at him the way she always did. Her heart just about melted when she saw him with their son. Draco picked Scorpius up, blowing a raspberry on his tummy before wrapping him up in a towel and peppering kisses all over his face. Scorpius’s giggles transitioned into happy but tired coos as he hugged his father’s neck as best as he could.

His eyelids began to droop then, as if right on schedule. Soon enough, Draco had him ready for bed while his mother got him a bottle. Amara sat in the rocking chair; Scorpius nuzzled into her chest as he drank, his eyes barely open. Tucking him in was always the hardest part, simply because neither parent would want to let him go, but let him go they did with the promise of each other and a new day together as he drifted off to the land of the sweetest dreams…

~~~

Twenty-one years later, the family was now one of five. Scorpius’s younger sister, Aelia, was just like their mother, even more so when the third child came along. Perseus was a troublemaker, and whenever he got hurt, he ran to his loving elder sister who took care of him just as Amara did.

On this warm spring afternoon, Amara and Draco sat with their friends – extended family, really, for they were Aunt Amara and Uncle Draco without being related by blood – enjoying tea as the children all ran around the large yard behind their home. Draco, Ron, and Harry were having some discussion about work, as usual. The women were used to this and were in conversation about their own lives.

Amara was easily the favorite Professor at Hogwarts, or so Rose reported. Within the last year, she had taken Professor Flitwick’s post as Head of Ravenclaw House after his retirement. Hermione made leaps and bounds in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, recognized for her outstanding work; there was even talk of her taking the position for Minister of Magic. Ginny had retired from the Holyhead Harpies just recently and was now a Sports Editor for The Daily Prophet.

Laughter and smiles could be seen everywhere. Lily and Aelia had managed to cover to discover some wildflowers and were busy braiding them into each other’s hair. From the corner of her eye, Amara noticed Albus and Scorpius slink off towards the brook just a ways away. They reminded her an awful lot of her and Draco when they were young. Rose sat on the edge of the fountain with a book, enjoying the sunshine and pleasant wind as she read aloud to Perseus. Hugo and James were flying around on their broomsticks, both of their mothers asking them to “Slow down!” at the same time.

As Harry once put it, all was well.

~~~

This completes my Draco Malfoy mini series. I cannot tell you how many times I cried while imagining my beloved characters finally getting their happy endings. As always, feel free to reach out to me on here. Your reviews and reads mean the world to me, so I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Until next time, JustAThoughtfulAngel <3

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Big Damn Heroes

A Supernatural / Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover! 

Characters: Sam, Dean, Cas, Charlie, Buffy, Willow, Spike, Xander, Giles, Anya, Faith

Word Count: ~4930

Warnings: Flirting, play-fighting... it’s sexy but not smutty. 75% banter, 20% geeky references. (No, seriously, SO MANY. If anyone can spot all the easter eggs/quotes from Supernatural, the Whedonverse, and beyond, I’ll give you a cookie.) 

A/N: For @impala-dreamer​ and @deanwanddamons​, and the I Do Understand That Reference Challenge! I’ve been wanting to write a SPN/BtVS crossover since I first started watching Supernatural; I’ve been imagining some of these character interactions for a while. Thanks for giving me an excuse to finally do it! 

Major thanks to @stunudo​ and @thoughtslikeaminefield​ for the reading and cheerleading. This was the most excited I’ve been about writing in a hot minute and I was so happy that you guys were excited to read it. 

This bears very little resemblance to either show’s canon/timeline. No Dawn, no Tara. Just go with it. 

“Okay, stand super still for me?” Charlie asks apprehensively. She twiddles a few knobs on the gadget she’d built, and a little fan of laser beams shoots out one end. She points it at Dean, who grimaces and shields his junk protectively as the lights sweep up and down his body. 

Sam rubs at the tension headache that’s developing between his eyes. “You sure about this?” 

“No?” Charlie says, voice squeaking slightly, and Sam’s headache throbs again. “But… I think so. It should work. I don’t think you understand how ridiculously complicated this whole thing is.” 

“You are bringing their alternate selves here from an entirely different universe,” Cas says skeptically, arms crossed as he looks critically at the scene. “There are a lot of variables at work.” 

Charlie points the device at Sam and scans him as she nods firmly. “Yes. Thank you. What Cas said. What’s the worst that can happen, right?” 

Sam raises his eyebrows and sees Dean and Cas making near-identical expressions of disbelief. 

“Right. Probably not a good thing to ask around here, huh? You guys are like the living embodiment of Murphy’s Law. I don’t think I’m gonna, like, blow anything up though, so that’s something!” Charlie cuts off her own nervous babbling and takes a deep breath. “Well, here goes nothing.” 

Sam's ears start to ring, and he feels a tug somewhere in his chest. The bunker fuzzes and fades around them. 

The last thing Sam hears is Cas saying flatly, “Well that can’t be good.” 

***

Dean’s drawing his gun before the room even comes into focus, fighting a dizzying surge of nausea. He looks around wildly, turning to scan his surroundings. There’s a redhead in an eye-poppingly colorful sweater sitting on the couch, looking at him open-mouthed; a cute, tiny blonde at her side; a cozy, utterly suburban living room; and most importantly, a total lack of Sam, as far as he can see, and that’s a problem. 

“Whoa, hey, take it easy,” the blonde says sharply. “Drop the gun.” She’s standing, coming toward him with her hands raised, and she’s clearly not a threat, but Dean’s not letting his guard down yet. He eases his finger off the safety but keeps it pointed at her. 

“Where’s my brother?” Dean snaps. 

“You just Apparated into the middle of my house, buddy, how ‘bout I ask the questions?” she says, unfazed. Which. Fair. Dean lowers the gun slightly. 

The second he starts to relax, the blonde is whipping around like a goddamn ninja and kicking the gun out of his hand. She settles back into a fighting stance, looking way more serious than anyone wearing sparkly lip gloss has any right to look. Dean’s so stunned he doesn’t even try to fight back; he stares for a second, torn between the urge to pull his other gun out of the back of his pants, just to make a point, and the urge to propose on the spot, because wow. 

“Um, hi, answers now?” the redhead says, still sitting on the couch, staring incredulously. 

Dean takes a deep breath. “I’m Dean Winchester. I’m pretty sure this was a fuckup of gigantic proportions. Where am I? Who are you? How did you…” 

“Sunnydale, Buffy, and mystical forces-of-evil-fighting Slayer powers,” she rattles off, with a little smile at the look of astonishment on his face. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” 

“Buffy?” Dean says, smirking, and she raises an eyebrow. 

“That’s really not the part most people fixate on,” she says bemusedly. There’s a phone ringing somewhere in the next room, and Buffy shouts without taking her eyes off Dean: “Xander? Would you get that?” 

“I’m not most people.” 

***

“Yes, quite. We’ll be right over,” Giles says, and he hangs up before turning back to Sam with a long-suffering expression. “Your brother is safe and sound. I’ll take you to him and we can try to sort this mess out.” 

Sam lets out a long sigh of relief, following Giles to the door. He looks down at his phone again as Giles locks up, but it still displays “no signal.” Sam frowns. 

“Where are we?” he asks. 

“Sunnydale, California.” Giles leads the way to a tiny European car. Sam has to fold up like a pretzel to get in the passenger seat. 

He watches out the window as Giles drives, frowning to himself as he tries to figure out why they’re here of all places. He’d been so busy with the whole Apparition thing that he didn’t question Giles’s initial reaction to a stranger materializing in the middle of his living room, but his expression had definitely been more resigned and exasperated than astonished, like maybe this sort of thing happened to him a little too often. 

“Is there such a thing as magic in this world?” Sam says, with a sneaking suspicion that he already knows the answer. “Or… ghosts? Demons?” 

Giles blinks a few times. “Magic, yes. Demons, quite. Ghosts… not that I’m aware of, but stranger things have happened on a Hellmouth, I’m sure.” 

“A what?” 

“Hellmouth. Sunnydale sits on top of a literal gate to hell, and as such, there is a convergence of mystical energy here. It tends to draw monsters and… well, general disaster.” Giles sounds like he’s repeated this little speech a few times before. 

“Averted any apocalypses lately?” Sam asks wryly, and that does get him a very polite, British expression of surprise. 

“Well, yes. A few, as a matter of fact. Buffy does stay busy.” 

“Buffy?” 

“Yes, the friend I called when you arrived. The Slayer. Do they have one of those in whatever world you’re from?” 

“In my world, Slayer is a band,” Sam says with a shrug. “So… you’ve never heard of me? Or my brother? Dean Winchester?” 

Giles gives him a skeptical sideways look. “Should I have?” 

“I think I have a theory.” 

“It’s not bunnies.” 

“What?” 

“Never mind. Go on.” 

***

“This is where you live?” Dean asks, looking around at the big windows and unlocked door. “Are there protective spells or anything, at least?” 

“No. And thus, the neverending construction,” Xander says mournfully, nodding toward an unfinished window frame. 

Dean’s still processing how normal it is. They’re all sitting around in the incredibly ordinary living room on comfortably mismatched couches, and the coffee table in front of him has a copy of Cosmo on it, for fuck’s sake. He’s never met a hunter of any kind who’d be reading about “Why Wet Kisses Make Men Horny.” 

He looks up hopefully when he hears the door, but it’s not Sam; there’s a bleach-blonde guy coming in, shaking off the ratty blanket he’d been wearing like a cape. 

“Oh, great, you’re back,” Willow grumbles. 

Buffy gives him a look that’s borderline murderous, which would be about as threatening as a newborn kitten if Dean didn’t know what she’s capable of. “Why, exactly, are you back?” 

“Bored. Not much to do in a crypt.” The guy shrugs, looking Dean up and down with an appraising gleam in his eye. “Who’s the pretty boy?” 

Dean’s still processing “crypt.” Before he can decide how he feels about the flirtatious tone, Buffy answers for him: “Spike, this is Dean. Dean, this is Spike. Spike, you can fuck right off now. Dean, you want a glass of water or something? Sorry, all the alternate universe talk made me forget my manners.” 

“Got anything stronger?” 

“If by stronger you mean orange juice?” Buffy offers apologetically, but Spike pulls a flask out of the inside of his long coat and passes it to Dean with a smug half-smile. Then he makes himself at home in one of the armchairs, raising an eyebrow at Buffy as if to make it extra clear that he has no plans to “fuck right off” any time soon. 

“Cheers,” Dean says gratefully. 

Spike winks at him, obvious and shameless, and drawls, “You just let me know if you need anything else.” 

Buffy’s got her arms crossed, glaring daggers at Spike, and Dean can tell there’s something going on there, but he can’t really resist flashing his most charming grin in Spike’s direction.  

The front door opens again, and Dean breathes a long sigh of relief when he sees Sam. 

***

“What makes you think there’s a version of you in this universe, anyway?” Willow asks, and everybody pauses to think about that one for a second. “I mean, if there are all these different worlds, why are you guys the heroes in every single one?” 

“Bit bloody full of yourselves,” Spike says. There’s no reason for that sentence to sound as suggestive as it does, but that seems to be his default tone. Sam tries not to notice the way Spike’s staring at his brother. Not like Dean is aware of it; he’s too busy staring at Buffy. 

“There’s a world with nothing but shrimp,” Xander chips in unhelpfully. Sam shakes his head like that might clear his ears. 

“Chuck said -” Dean starts, and Sam cuts him off with a gesture before anyone can ask who “Chuck” is. That seems like a surefire way to derail this barely-coherent conversation, and Sam wants to figure out how to get the hell home. 

“It’s not a bad point,” he says. “So if Charlie programmed the thing -” Willow opens her mouth like she really wants to interrupt, but Sam plows on, “- to bring us from a world that didn’t have an us, maybe that’s what made it glitch. It couldn’t bring anyone to us, so it brought us here instead.” 

“But why would it drop you with us?” Buffy asks. 

“You guys seem to be the ones who deal with the apocalypses around here,” Dean says, shrugging. 

“We are the local experts at the saving people and the hunting things,” Buffy agrees. 

Spike smirks. “Big damn heroes, is what we are.” 

Buffy shoots him a withering glare. “You are not included in this.” 

“But why split us up?” Sam muses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His headache has not improved in the slightest. When he looks up, Dean’s eyes are darting between Sam and Giles, who has his glasses off and is pinching his own nose in the exact same spot. 

“Wow, Sammy,” Dean says, an infuriating grin spreading over his face. 

“What?”  

Dean turns to Buffy. “So this whole Slayer thing. Kind of a birthright? Destiny?” 

She shrugs. “I guess so. There was this whole group of old British guys with sticks up their asses, but... ” 

Sam rolls his eyes, starting to see where Dean’s heading with this, and asks Buffy, “Ever died, by any chance?” 

“Twice, actually,” she replies, without batting an eye. She looks back and forth between them. “Wait, have either of you -” 

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” Dean says ruefully. “Sacrificed yourself to save someone, I’m guessing?” 

“That’s me, self-sacrificey girl,” Buffy says, matter-of-fact and borderline chipper. “Kind of my specialty. That and the quipping.” 

“Let me guess, you handle the research,” Sam says to Giles. 

“Well, yes, I suppose. Although I’m not exactly helpless in a fight. I do know a bit of magic as well.”  

Sam buries his face in his hands for a second. 

“So when the program couldn’t find a match for either of us, it sent us to… someone as much like us as it could find,” Dean says. 

Willow jumps in quickly. “What sort of computer -” 

“What was that about shrimp?” Dean asks at the same time. Everybody starts talking at once, and Sam sighs heavily. He almost rubs his forehead again, but he stops himself when he notices Giles doing the same thing.

***

Dean’s trying to explain the whole Chuck situation when he sees the distortion in the middle of the room, and he trails off in the middle of the sentence, watching anxiously as Charlie blurs in and out a few times before solidifying in front of them. 

“Okay, weird,” she blurts out, looking around wide-eyed and overwhelmed. 

“Holy fuck am I glad to see you,” Dean says fervently. 

“Right back atcha,” Charlie says. “Somebody want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” 

“Ooh, are you the one who beamed them up?” Willow asks excitedly. “Actually… you look weirdly familiar, have we met before?” 

Charlie blinks at her a few times, a smile spreading across her face, and shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Pretty sure I’d remember you.” 

“This is Charlie, she’s our resident computer genius,” Dean says, and they make the rounds of introductions yet again. 

Charlie gives everyone an awkward little wave. “Charlie. Um. I like LARPing, pretty women, and long walks on the beach.” 

Dean doesn’t miss the way Willow perks up at that, and he bites the inside of his cheek to hold back his laughter. 

“Hey, where’s Cas?” Charlie asks, finally tearing her eyes away from Willow long enough to look around the room, as if Cas might’ve hid behind the bookshelf when he arrived. 

Dean’s stomach sinks. “He came with you?”

“Yeah, we -” Charlie starts, but she’s interrupted by the door opening, and much to Dean’s relief, Cas is walking through it next to a frazzled-looking girl. 

“I’m hoping one of you can explain why this man materialized in my car?” the girl asks irritably. “As if parallel parking wasn’t hard enough without surprises.” 

“Hi to you too, Anya,” Buffy chirps. “Glad everybody could join us for what was supposed to be my relaxing day of solitude.” 

“I’m not a man, exactly,” Cas interjects. 

Anya tilts her head to the side inquisitively, glancing very blatantly down at Cas’s crotch for a second, and Dean snorts. 

“Would it be rude if I asked -” Anya starts. 

Giles answers before she can finish: “Yes, it undoubtedly would be.” 

“I’m an angel,” Cas says nonchalantly. 

“Judging by everyone’s faces, Anya’s not an angel, then?” Sam asks, looking between the two of them. 

“Only that one time, for Xander’s birthday,” Anya volunteers, and Xander splutters an incoherent protest. “But that was a sexy angel, not a real angel. I don’t think we have those here.”  

“She used to be a revenge demon,” Buffy explains. 

“Used to be?” Cas asks. 

“Oh, I’m human now,” Anya reassures him.

Spike adds, “Not that you’d know it, talking to her.” 

“Considering how primitive and strange humans are considered to be by most of the known universe, I wouldn’t say that’s a bad thing,” Cas says mildly. “Some of your customs are utterly incomprehensible to an outsider.” 

“That’s what I keep saying!” Anya exclaims. “I mean, how am I supposed to know exactly which reproductive habits are acceptable for public discussion?” 

“They do have some very arbitrary rules about appropriate behavior,” Cas says. Dean notices Sam and Giles rubbing their foreheads in tandem again. 

***

By the time they finish asking all their questions and comparing apocalypses, Sam’s actually kind of having fun, but he knows it’s time to get back to work. 

“You ready to get out of here?” he asks Dean, during the next lull in the conversation. Dean looks more than a little put out as he sneaks a glance at Buffy, but he shrugs. 

“Probably should. Charlie? Hey, Earth to Charlie.” 

Charlie looks pretty dazed as she turns to face them. “Hmm?” 

“We should probably get home,” Sam says apologetically. 

Charlie’s face falls. “Really?” 

Dean gives her a sympathetic look. “Worlds to save, and stuff. Still need to find a way to warn all those other Sams and Deans. Sorry, kiddo.” 

“Maybe you can come back sometime, if you… y’know, survive the apocalypse?” Willow says, with a hopeful smile. Charlie grins at her. 

“We also have places to be,” Anya says cheerfully. “Very important things to do.” 

“Subtle,” Xander mutters. They wave their goodbyes and head for the door, followed by a somewhat sulky-looking Spike. Then again, that might just be Spike’s face; Sam can’t really tell. 

Cas, Charlie, Sam, and Dean huddle in the middle of the living room, and Charlie says resignedly, “Strap yourselves in, I’m gonna make the jump to lightspeed.” 

“You don’t have to scan us again, do you?” Dean asks, eyeing the gadget with some mistrust. 

“Nope. We’re all saved in the system. Ready?” 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Dean says, with one last half-smile in Buffy’s direction. Charlie hits the button. 

Nothing happens. Charlie frowns and hits it again. 

“Charlie?” Sam says hesitantly. 

“No, obviously that’s not supposed to be happening,” she retorts. She fiddles with a couple knobs. “I think I know what it is, though. There are all sorts of parameters for, like, which Earth you’re coming from and which Earth you’re going to, and I think the weird glitchy thingy might’ve scrambled the algorithm.” 

Dean leans in to look. “Did you try hitting it?” 

“It’s quantum physics, Dean, you can’t just keymash until it works,” Charlie says, rolling her eyes and holding it away from him. “Unless you want to be stuck in shrimp-world or something.” 

“How long do you think it’ll take to fix it?” Sam asks. 

Charlie shrugs. “Could be a couple hours, could be a day or two.” 

“I could help you,” Willow offers. Charlie looks like Christmas came early. 

“You guys are welcome to stay, it’s no biggie,” Buffy offers. “Not like you’re the strangest thing that’s ended up in my living room.” 

“I’m flattered,” Dean says with a grin. 

Sam sighs, but he can think of worse worlds to be in for a day or two. At least they’re not surrounded by shrimp. 

***

“So this is what you do every night?” Dean asks, as Buffy hops the fence with zero visible effort. He might have actual hearts in his eyes. 

“Pretty much,” she says cheerfully. Dean follows her. He does okay, even if he doesn’t stick the landing like a Russian gymnast. 

Sam had stayed home, after some silent pleading in eyebrow-speak, so it’s just the two of them, and it’s nice, for a graveyard. There’s something about the idea of “patrolling” that Dean likes. He imagines coming here night after night, recognizing the mausoleums, getting familiar with all the paths. It sounds stable.

“Do you like it?” Dean asks. “The whole Slayer thing.” 

Buffy wrinkles her nose adorably at him. “I’m not sure like is the word I’d choose. What else would I do, though? Not like I could just walk away from it. I tried, once. The weird follows me wherever I go.” 

“Sorry, if you don’t want me to follow you any more I can just…” 

She laughs at that. Dean feels butterflies in his stomach, like he’s just a middle schooler with a crush. It’s been a minute since he put actual effort into flirting with somebody, beyond the easy one-liners. Dean fiddles with the stake she gave him, twirling it in his fingers, trying to keep an eye on his surroundings instead of just staring at Buffy. 

“Sometimes I wonder,” she says softly. “Y’know? Like, why me?” 

“You’re basically a superhero,” Dean says. She can probably tell how hard he’s geeking out about it. “That’s what heroes do.” 

“It’s not just that, though! Like… I was bored out of my mind trying to be normal.” 

Dean laughs. “Normal was a disaster.” 

“So even if the weird wasn’t following me, I’d go find the monsters myself. Who does that?” 

“Crazy people,” Dean agrees. “I can’t imagine doing anything else, though. Never gonna have a normal job, never gonna have a normal relationship, and yet.” 

“So you’re not - there’s no relationship?” she asks, exaggeratedly casual.  

“Nah.” Dean tries to hide his grin, and then he asks cautiously, “What’s up with you and Spike?” 

She stops dead, mouth open, staring at him. “Wait. Oh god. Please don’t tell me Faith is already running her mouth, I told her -” 

“No, it’s cool, I just… guessed, earlier,” Dean says sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I don’t think anybody else noticed.” 

Buffy makes a face and rolls her eyes, and they start walking again. “It’s complicated, the… thing with Spike. It’s definitely not a relationship though.” She stresses that last bit, and Dean really shouldn’t feel relieved, at that, but he does. 

“Isn’t it always complicated?” 

Buffy sighs. “There’s the whole undead creature of the night thing, for starters, which. Oddly enough, seems to be a type for me?” 

“Yeah?” 

Something must show on his face, because Buffy frowns. “Oh, Jesus, don’t tell me you’re some sort of demon too.” 

“Would that help my chances?” Dean asks wryly. “Cause I kinda used to be.” 

She stares for a second. “You’re joking, right?” 

“Really not.” 

There’s a moment where she’s clearly deciding whether she wants to go there, but then a familiar voice rings out behind them and interrupts: “Thought you were heading home, pretty boy.” 

Dean turns, grinning in spite of himself. “Change of plans.”  

“Lucky us,” Spike drawls. “Mind if I join you for a walk, pet?” 

“No,” Dean answers, just as Buffy lets out a resigned, “Kinda.”  

Spike catches up to them and slings an arm around Dean’s waist, pulling him against his side. Buffy lets out a huff, but she’s laughing too. 

“Are you really trying to make me jealous?” she asks Spike.  

“Is it working?” 

Dean disentangles himself and looks back and forth between the two of them. “Yeah, this is obviously healthy.” 

Buffy laughs, but Spike just retorts, “Like you would know a healthy attachment pattern if it bit you in the ass.” 

Dean considers protesting, but he doesn’t really have a leg to stand on there. 

“Guess it’s in the job description. Are we gonna go fight some monsters, or what?” 

“Yeah, let’s go find the monsters,” Buffy says, grinning at Dean. “That’s what heroes do, right?”  

***

Sam zones out of the discussion around the time Cas and Giles start talking comparative theology through the millennia. He slouches back on the couch and watches them fondly as Cas answers question after question. His eyelids feel heavy and he’s comfortable, and even though he knows he should take the opportunity to learn more about this totally new Earth, all he really wants to do is sit, and breathe, and rest. 

Cas and Giles end up heading back to Giles’s house for tea and… something about an old book of etchings? Sam can’t really follow Giles’s breathless, excited rambling. He waves them off, thinking that he might actually go to sleep early, for once. 

Sam goes to the kitchen, chugs a glass of water and then fills another, and he just stands there for a moment, one hip leaning against the counter as he looks around. It’s such a normal house. Even on their most domestic days, they’re still in a bunker. Must be nice to have a little bit of normalcy, no matter how crazy life gets. There’s faint music and the occasional giggle from upstairs, but otherwise, the house is quiet. 

Of course, just as he has that thought, the front door slams open and someone shouts, “Yo, B! Ready to go?” 

“She went out already,” Sam says, bemused. 

He gets an impression of red lips, dark hair, and leather as the girl closes the door behind herself, moving whirlwind-quick. She plants her feet (loudly, in big stompy combat boots) and crosses her arms, looking at Sam suspiciously. Neither of them move for a second.  

“I’m Faith,” she announces eventually. “Who the fuck are you, why the fuck are you in B’s kitchen, and where the fuck is she?” 

“Sam, and… it’s a long story. She’s out patrolling with my brother, they left about an hour ago.” 

Faith seems to make some sort of decision about him, and suspicion turns to mischief as she gives him a broad grin. “If your brother looks anything like you, can’t blame the girl for ditchin’ me.” 

Sam’s mouth twitches as he tries to hold back a smile, and he takes a sip of water to cover it. 

“Aww, you shy?” Faith teases. Her voice is low and raspy, kind of absurdly sexy, and she clearly knows it. “Must be one of those nice guys I’ve heard so much about.” 

Sam doesn’t answer. He watches Faith stalk toward him. 

She’s a fucking force of nature, Sam can already tell, all aggression and attitude as she comes at him with a challenge in her eyes. He doesn’t move when she gets up in his space, looking Sam up and down like she’s inspecting him. He has a feeling she’s used to people backing away before they let her get this close. 

“Sam, huh? What brings you to Sunnydale?” 

“Just passing through,” Sam says calmly. “What about you?” 

“How do you know I’m not from around here?” she asks, looking up at him coyly. 

Sam doesn’t dignify that with a response, just smirks and waits. She takes a step back and leans against the counter, mirroring his pose. Her eyes are sparkling. 

“Fair enough. I’m a Slayer, figured I’d stick around in Sunnydale and help B for a while. Always seems to be somethin’ around here that needs its ass kicked.” 

Sam cocks his head to the side, considering her. “So you fight vampires?” 

“And whatever else is askin’ for a fight,” she retorts. “Why, is your brother a vampire?” 

“What?” 

“Buffy’s got a type. A demonic kinda type, if you know what I’m sayin’. Don’t worry, I won’t stake him.” 

Sam laughs. Figures. “I wasn’t worried. Just curious if the superpowers are all they’re cracked up to be.” 

“You better believe it,” Faith says proudly. “Strength, speed… stamina.” She says the last with a sly, unsubtle smirk, watching Sam to gauge his reaction. 

“Show me,” he challenges. He doesn’t specify which one he means, and Faith raises one eyebrow. 

“Right here? I figured you’d be the candlelight and Al Green type.” 

Sam smiles. She’s not the first person to make that assumption. 

The first punch is light, and he lets her see it coming; she dodges it easily, without so much as blinking. Sam’s left hand snakes out, lightning-fast this time, and she sidesteps neatly, grabbing his wrist instead and holding his arm in place. She’s stronger than he expected, and she’s grinning like this is the most fun she’s had all week. 

“Sure about this? I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” she says, sugary-sweet. 

The next punch is in earnest. She blocks it, throws one of her own, and then it’s a blur for a moment, a flurry of blows one after another, none of them landing. Neither of them are moving their feet much, trapped in the narrow space between the counter and the kitchen table; they’re just testing each other. 

“Not bad,” Sam admits. 

“Right back atcha.” 

She takes a couple steps backward, out into the open space, and Sam follows, watching closely. This time she lets loose with a flashy spin-jump-kick thing like something out of a cheesy action movie, and Sam’s laughing as he ducks. 

“Points for style, but not for substance,” he teases. 

She comes back at him twice as hard and almost gets him this time, but then he snatches her wrists and slams her back against the wall with a thunk that’s a whole lot louder than he expected. They both wince and freeze. 

“Everything okay?” Willow yells from upstairs.

Charlie’s pissy voice adds, “Please don’t tell me that was a monster.” 

“Just tripped,” Sam shouts back. He looks down at Faith, taking a half-step closer so that there’s maybe an inch of space between their bodies. He’s still got her wrists pinned over her head. She’s definitely not trying to get away. He has a feeling she could, easily, if she wanted to. 

“Not so nice after all, then,” she purrs, looking up at him through her lashes. 

Sam shakes his head slightly. “Not so much. You giving up, then?” 

“Not a fuckin’ chance. Just thinkin’ maybe we should have the rematch back at my place. You know, in case you ‘trip’ again.” 

“Sounds like a good idea.” 

***

Probably good they only stayed for a day, Dean thinks, looking around the room. Nobody, from either world, looks particularly happy about the departure, but they’ve all said goodbye often enough that they don’t draw it out. Charlie gives Willow one last little wave, and then she hits the button. Everything goes fuzzy. 

It’s disorienting, for a moment, but the bunker comes into focus around them. After the dizziness has passed, Dean gives Charlie a wordless hug. 

“I’m gonna go read a book with pictures in it,” she says glumly, and shuffles away. “And eat ice cream.” 

“Research time, I guess,” Sam says. “Back to work.” 

Cas heads to the kitchen to make some coffee as Sam starts flipping through his notes. Dean settles down at the table and looks at the nearest book without really seeing it. He feels fucking off, almost sad, as if he could’ve possibly gotten attached to that other world in less than twenty-four hours. 

“That was… kinda a nice universe, right?” he says. “I dunno. There was something about it.” 

Sam gives him a knowing look. “Yeah.” 

“Ever wish we could just… stay somewhere else?” Dean says, and he can’t keep the bitter note out of his voice. “I mean, why do we keep coming back to this world? What’s so great about it?” 

“It’s ours,” Sam says, with a shrug. “I mean, the other one wasn’t our responsibility, you know? Of course it was nice, not having to worry, but… this one’s ours. Gotta take care of it.” 

Dean twirls a pencil between his fingers and wishes it was a stake. He smiles, slightly, as he remembers. 

That’s what heroes do. 

.

.

.

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[tact-and-impulse]

Anyway, here’s info about my MCs for @shepherds-of-haven​​. I think I dropped enough hints in my Lovelace Day fic to connect who's who.

Name: Erigeron Keernyth / Nickname: E / Callsign: Rimefrost

Gender and Pronouns: Male, he/him / Sexuality: Pansexual

Age: 26 / Heritage: Elf / High Stat: Nerves of Steel / Low Stat: Bright Mind

Weapon: Dagger / Specialization: Elementalist / Education: Circle trained

Tarot: The Emperor / Wreath Day: Ashar 17

Description: A tenacious, self-assured Mage who desires nothing more than vengeance against evil. Tall and muscular, he wears a sardonic face until there’s word of an Endarkened. Then, his green gaze fills with delighted bloodlust before his silver-crowned head disappears out the door.

Fragments from the past:

Climbing up to the treehouse in Vale, letting his legs dangle over the side and kick out at nothing in particular

Bedding down for the night in a dense part of the woods, huddled with his clanmates for warmth and safety

The aftermath: a vow made on the blood he angrily spit through his teeth

Sharpening his dagger in a leaky tent and counting down the days to the end of this job, while the bigoted noble he was escorting snored incessantly in a cushy wagon

The first time he killed an imp, how easy it was to render the limbs apart, and the frustration that it wasn’t enough to make him feel better, that he needed to be even stronger

Art: Picrew

***

Name: Zoegea Keernyth / Callsign: Diamond

Gender and Pronouns: Female, she/her / Sexuality: Straight

Age: 24 / Heritage: Elf / High Stat: Razor Wits / Low Stat: Nerves of Steel

Weapon: Gun / Specialization: Shifter / Education: Circle trained

Tarot: The Lovers reversed / Flower Day: Loa 22

Description: A withdrawn, evasive Mage who is fixated on a dangerous pursuit. Svelte and poised, she has a calculating hazel gaze. Curling ashen tresses are drawn into a high ponytail, nearly to her waist, and out of the way when she’s experimenting with substances beyond her control.

Fragments from the past:

A quiet glade, on a detour the caravan took one summer, but she’s never been able to find it since

Eavesdropping on Elvish conversations, picking up tidbits of gossip and information, mostly for her own amusement

The aftermath: the last time she allowed herself to be horrified, grasping for logic and finding none

Her familiar dorm room in the Circle, the drawers filled with scribbled notes in a cipher of her own devising, desiccated roses, and the wrought leftovers of one project after another

The cold gaze of that smith whose doorstep she haunted for a few weeks, warning her never to get too close as metal scraps were tossed her way

Art: Picrew

***

Name: Kalmia Metella / Callsign: Serenity

Gender and Pronouns: Female, she/her / Sexuality: Demisexual

Age: 21 / Heritage: Hunter / High Stat: Razor Wits / Low Stat: Silver Tongue

Weapon: Bow / Specialization: Healer / Education: Self-taught

Tarot: The Lovers / Flower Day: Ysk 10

Description: A gentle, sensitive Mage who struggles with a definitive place in the world. Waves of dark hair, except for a streak of pure white, cascade down her back and contrast with intense violet eyes. Despite a soft-spoken exterior, she demonstrates a surprising willpower under pressure.

Fragments from the past:

Her childhood bedroom, only adorned with some bundled flowers and herbs that her mother taught her how to dry

After the funeral, Father explained she’d be alive for so much longer than everyone else in Maj would, and his face blurred in a flood of anguished tears

The aftermath: uncontrollable shivering in despair, fearful stumbling in the darkness, wondering if she was going mad

His sticky voice and stickier touch, but at least, all that’s left are memories and those can’t hurt anyone else

The Sweetleaf Shop in Leore, the kind voices of the women living there, the earthy scents of freshly made tinctures, words of comfort and perseverance

Art: Picrew

***

Name: Linaria Enris / Nicknames: Lin, Lina (I recognize the irony and I’m so sorry, if it helps it’s with a short i) / Callsign: Insight

Gender and Pronouns: Female, she/her / Sexuality: Straight

Age: 21 / Heritage: Ket / High Stat: Bright Mind / Low Stat: Razor Wits

Weapon: Sword / Specialization: Enchanter / Education: Self-taught

Tarot: Justice / Flower Day: Leph 40

Description: A sincere, empathetic Mage who yearns for a greater purpose. Her plain brown hair is fluffed around her ears and over almond-shaped eyes the color of chocolate. An earnest worker, she usually has a thoughtful, polite expression, but her laughter can be heard easily too.

Fragments from the past:

Lighting candles by the windows and reading quietly, keeping vigil for Dad until his rough palm awkwardly patted her head

Trying to do chores the way Mom used to, hoping to prove she can take care of the house on her own, no need to worry

The aftermath: essentially catatonic, until dawn came and she realized how cold she was

A bookseller’s stall, of incense and a sour voice complaining about his arthritis and insisting she keep the books he’s stolen, until he abruptly fired her for reasons she still doesn’t know

Scribe jobs in later years, her hands cramped and smeared with ink, her smile fixed on even as she received only a fraction of what she was owed

Art: Picrew

***

Name: Gentian Arke / Callsign: Messenger

Gender and Pronouns: Male, he/him / Sexuality: Demisexual

Age: 27 / Heritage: Ket / High Stat: Silver Tongue / Low Stat: Razor Wits

Weapon: Sword / Specialization: Binder / Education: Self-taught

Tarot: The Hermit / Wreath Day: Kthili 24

Description: A reserved, considerate Mage who hides deep-seated guilt behind a soft smile. His long locks are mistaken for black unless in full sunlight, where it reveals its bluish sheen. The sea is reflected in his kind gaze, and his agile build has been wracked with battle scars over the years.

Fragments from the past:

Running along the shoreline, feet splashing in the retreating waves and a salty breeze in his face, without a care in the world

Joking around with his cousins, winning gonen games, and fishing for the best catch

The aftermath: broken and hollow and worthless

That one time he had to crossdress in a ploy to retrieve his captain’s long-lost trinket from a gambling tournament and his alias became known as a devastatingly infamous heartbreaker, much to his eternal embarrassment

Fighting corsairs on rain-slick decks or bandits on the mail routes, numbly pondering over just giving up someday, but never managing to do it

Art: Picrew

***

Name: Alcea Keernyth / Nicknames: Als, Alci / Callsign: Lacewing

Gender and Pronouns: Female, she/her / Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 22 / Heritage: Elf / High Stat: Bright Mind / Low Stat: Nerves of Steel

Weapon: Dagger / Specialization: Conjurer / Education: Circle trained

Tarot: Wheel of Fortune / Flower Day: Camoa 35

Description: A bubbly, affectionate Mage who has an appetite for anything interesting. She often dashes to her current destination, wherever that may be, leaving the impression of flying golden chin-length curls. Her gray eyes sparkle with curiosity and enthusiasm, never entirely quenched.

Fragments from the past:

Coaxing vividly colored butterflies into her hands, pretending to wear them as if they were jewels

Peeking her head out to take in every sight they passed by, her parents humming traveling songs, lulling her to sleep

The aftermath: immediate denial, it’s all a terrible dream

The library in Capra, thumbing through so many books and cursing that she wasn’t an inch taller to reach some of the higher shelves, eventually stacking the fattest tomes she’d already gone through as makeshift stairs

A trio of ragtag burglars, barely into their teens, rummaging through some noble’s room, while she kept an eye out for anyone who’d throw them back into jail

Art: Picrew

***

Name: Valeriana Stiln / Nickname: Valia (only if you earn it) / Callsign: Exacter

Gender and Pronouns: Female, she/her / Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 23 / Heritage: Norm / High Stat: Nerves of Steel / Low Stat: Silver Tongue

Weapon: Bow / Specialization: Battle-Mage / Education: Journeyman

Tarot: Death / Flower Day: Zellea 38

Description: A fearless, practical Mage who nurses a jaded outlook on life. Dark red hair is gathered into a hefty bun more often than not, and long-lashed onyx eyes critically survey everything. She walks with a brisk stride full of intent, her capable hands bearing calluses from labor and old fights.

Fragments from the past:

Mother combing her hair in their morning ritual, “I love this color so much, Valia, you should keep it long”

The poison-dripping fangs of a snake the Westwood kids found in a trough, then its scales spattered with blood as she lifted the nearest axe and chopped it to pieces

The aftermath: repeating no’s, louder and louder, building to a drawn-out scream, until her throat was raw

After so many years, finding some bottles of the cologne Father wore and spending a half year’s worth of her mercenary’s pay, always dabbing a few drops on her wrists and neck

White-blond hair and a tattooed insignia, any tendrils of affection withered by that crystal clear scene of betrayal

Art: Picrew

***

Name: Senna Tulward / Callsign: Guardian

Gender and Pronouns: Female, she/her / Sexuality: Pansexual

Age: 23 / Heritage: Norm / High Stat: Silver Tongue / Low Stat: Bright Mind

Weapon: Gun / Specialization: Diviner / Education: Journeyman

Tarot: Temperance / Flower Day: Coppersun 6

Description: A congenial, faithful Mage who searches for a new place to call home. She has wavy chestnut hair falling a little past her shoulders, and an amiable amber gaze. She typically sports a pleasant, carefree smile, and her statuesque frame is actually very sturdy and athletic.

Fragments from the past:

Singing hymns she knew by heart and clasping her mother’s soft hands in the neighborhood’s temple

Cinnamon and warm honey on her birthday breakfast toast, Father sneaking her an extra slice when no one else was looking

The aftermath: confusion and failed searches, calling out the names of people who would never answer

Magic lessons under a starry sky, her teacher’s careful voice over the melody of crickets, the smell of campfire smoke, her warm sleeping bag

A dry ruin, whirling gritty sands, the sniffling lost little girl and a bleating goat she’s taking cover with, villagers hurling accusations and bullets at her upon their emergence from the storm

Art: Picrew

***

[spookyceph]

Good Graces Pt. 2

Finally got the second half of this fic together. Find it on Ao3 or the first part here on Tumblr. 

Nothing explicit takes place, however, the non-canon talk is of a sexual nature. Also, Dabi is a masochist and likes being ordered around. But we knew this already, didn’t we?

Words: 2,789

Rating: M for language and sexual themes

The wait ended two days later in the same spot. Dabi was in the process of pouring himself his second drink of the night when a misty-edged hole opened in reality behind the bar. From it stepped the tall, elegant form of Kurogiri. Dabi had never really considered what a demon might look like, but the League’s second-in-command/butler/voice of reason provided plenty of inspiration. Impeccable suit. Ability to show up anywhere. Form too immaterial to hurt, but still capable of making someone pay for trying. As always, Dabi gave him a polite nod and fought back memories of how it had felt to unexpectedly be elbow-deep in that shifting darkness.

“Ah, Dabi. Just the person I was hoping to see.” Deep. Smooth as high-end nihonshu. The kind of voice that could talk somebody into trading away their firstborn. Or into joining a half-assed villain ensemble.

Dabi paused with his glass to his lips. He made a sound he hoped came across as Yes, I’m listening rather than Help, I’ve swallowed my own tongue in mortal terror.

“Shigaraki Tomura wishes to speak with you at your earliest convenience.”

This was it. This was not a drill. Dabi put down the glass without taking a sip. “Where?”

“He is in his room at the moment. I will open the way, if you wish to go now.”

He’d just slid off the stool when the words registered. The air behind him changed. It was like the faint static charge living things gave off and a feeling of being watched all at once. Except Dabi knew if he turned he’d see only a hazy oval of black floating there, the perfect width and length to swallow him completely.

He didn’t want to use the warp gate. No fucking way. Problem was he’d already gotten up—couldn’t sit back down without looking like a coward or a dumbass or both. And he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit he already knew where Shigaraki’s room was to the person who amounted to the closest thing the guy had to a father.

So, Dabi grabbed his glass again. Knocked back the contents. Pretended it was just like jumping into a cold pool on a summer day as he turned and plunged into the waiting darkness.

Nothing existed anymore. Not time. Not space. Not self. Then something—maybe Kurogiri’s will or just simple momentum—carried him back into being. He returned to reality with a gasp. Catching his balance, he blinked and took stock of his new surroundings.

Shigaraki sat on his heels not a meter away, staring up through the stiff fingers of his favorite fashion statement. Large sheets of paper littered the floorboards in front of him. Maps, Dabi realized, noting the grid lines and coordinate markings. Somewhere way out in the sticks, if all the green and brown were any clue. Turning his head, he saw shelves lining the walls. Books? No, too many the same size and too thin. Cases for games—hundreds of them. More than one person could finish without giving up on everything else in life. Then again, what did he know? He’d never been allowed to have any as a kid. Never been allowed to have anything that might distract him from the glorious future planned out for him since day one. And just look at how well that had gone.

At any rate, the room didn’t seem to have the right ambiance to banish or murder someone in. Dabi let his hopes peek out from the bunker of suspicion.

“What’s this stuff for?” he asked, nodding to the maps on the ground.

Nothing from Shigaraki for an adrenaline-spiking second. Then, he crooked the fingers of one hand. “Sit.”

Dabi obeyed, pacing himself. Step in closer. Let one leg fold under him. Just bend the other so the sole of his boot lay flat on the floor. Rest same side elbow on knee. Prop the whole casual façade up with the other hand behind him.

“You got something you wanna say?” Cool nonchalance despite all the spit having vanished from inside his mouth.

Closing those intense eyes, his boss-and-possibly-more drew a long inhale. Didn’t even gag on the musty museum specimen smell of the taxidermy clutching his face. Then it was Dabi’s turn to suck in a breath as Shigaraki pulled off the gray hand with fumbling fingers, setting it aside.

“I want you to lead the others on their first job,” he said, complete with direct eye contact.

Any pretense of self-assurance abandoned Dabi. His stomach clenched as if braced for a punch. He pumped his brain for something droll, snappy, cocky in response. The well had run dry. He settled for practical.

“What do you want us to do?”

Shigaraki’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, though his stoic expression never wavered. “I was given some interesting information about UA’s precious fledgling heroes. Seems they’re headed to a remote training camp in the mountains for the summer. No one will be looking after them except two of their teachers and four pros who specialize in wilderness rescue missions. I want you to ruin their little retreat.”

Dabi’s spine went stiff and straight as an exclamation point. “I didn’t sign up to kill kids—even baby heroes.”

But Shigaraki was already shaking his head halfway through. “Killing them isn’t the point. That would generate too much outrage, hypocritical or no. The police might actually pry their heads from their asses and make a united effort to hunt us down with that much public pressure on them. Not to mention every third-rate pro in the country would crawl out of the woodwork, looking to make headlines. We’d be finished before we ever got started.

“No, what I have in mind is some training of our own.”

Attention swapped places with apprehension. “Oh?”

“None of us have worked together. Most of us haven’t worked on a team at all. This is an opportunity to test how well your quirks and styles compliment or clash with one another.”

“So, what? We crash their field trip and start fucking shit up? Flee the scene when the fighting gets too heated?”

“I came up with a level objective for you to focus on.” From on top of the maps, Shigaraki scooped up a thick manila folder and handed it to him.

Taking it, Dabi flipped to the first set of pages inside. His expression stayed set in stone while his stomach took a cliff dive.

A pretty girl with skin the color of bubblegum and squiggly little horns peeking out of her cotton candy hair smiled out at him from the photo in the top corner.

Name: Ashido Mina

Age: 15

Quirk: Acid

“You got hold of the students’ profiles? Impressive.” And a potential fucking disaster waiting to happen.

Shigaraki shrugged modestly, lightly scratching a new crop of scabs that had popped up in jagged furrows on both sides of his neck. Scabs that hadn’t been there a few days ago. “It’s just their teachers’ assessments of their quirks and performance during class assignments. Personal information like relatives and home addresses were better protected.”

The vice slowly closing its jaws around Dabi’s thumping heart released. Regardless, he made sure not to linger on any one student as he leafed through several of the profiles. Just focused on breathing normally and pretending to read for what seemed like a reasonable amount of time before moving to the next. He’d wait until he didn’t have an audience to allow himself to register anything.

“What’s this objective supposed to be?” he inquired.

“Capture one of the stronger, more notable students and ask him to join us.”

A muscle in his cheek jumped when Shigaraki reached over and flipped to a report in the middle of the folder. Dabi forced himself not only to look but see.

The boy scowling out of the picture was blonde. Broad-shouldered. Red-eyed, though not as beautifully as the one sitting across the way. Dabi’s pulse evened out.

“Bakugou Katsuki,” he read. “Isn’t this the kid they had to bind and gag at UA’s Sports Festival—even though he won the damn thing?”

“The same.”

“The hell do we want him for? I thought we were full capacity on lunatics already.”

A sigh. “To spook the school’s supporters and society at large, for one. It’s not enough to kill heroes. More will just take their place. We have to convince people to withdraw their support of them. Turn against them, though that won’t come until later.”

Dabi snorted. “This little asshole will never agree to sign on with us. He’s obsessed with proving he’s above everyone else. I know the type.”

A twitch of interest crossed Shigaraki’s face. Instead of pressing, though, he filed the slip away in that mysterious brain of his. “I don’t give half a shit if he agrees. All that matters is he blabs to anyone who’ll listen that we targeted and tried to corrupt him once we let him ‘escape’.”

Tapping his fingers on the stack of papers, Dabi let the big picture come into focus. “Instead of outright attacking the school, we’re undermining their image. Making all the mommies and daddies wonder if a career as a pro is as great as they thought it would be for their precious snot-nosed bastards. Getting donors to think twice before reaching for those wallets. We’re playing the long game. Smart.” A thin smile tugged at one end of Dabi’s mouth. “Which leaves just one question. Why have me lead instead of yourself? People might accuse me of sleeping my way to the top.”

A lovely shade of pink, like the inner coating of a seashell, livened up Shigaraki’s cheeks. “We never—!” He huffed and turned away, pink deepening to rose and spreading to the tops of his ears when he noticed Dabi’s smile had widened to a grin. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“Guilty. Well, on the last part anyway.”

Shigaraki continued to fume, hopes of an answer dwindling with each second of silence. Then, just when an apology was in the works, “Because I’m a shitty leader.”

Dabi exchanged his smile for arched eyebrows. “”And you think I’d make a better one?”

“You take initiative when you need to, and show restraint when you should. You’re able to read people without giving away much of anything about yourself. The others respect you. They like you. Anyway, from a purely tactical standpoint, since your quirk is long range you can attack and give orders without getting swept up in the melee. And…” Blood-soaked irises looked at him through a tangled curtain of white hair for a moment before flitting back to the safety of the maps. “I trust you.”

Every response Dabi had lined up crumbled. With them gone, he couldn’t pretend not to notice what they’d been hiding. Exposed to proper light and air, it bloomed, bright and bold despite the ruin it grew from.

“I won’t fail.” The words were hoarse, but came out easily enough for a promise he’d swore to make to no one except himself ever again.

“I know you won’t. Because this isn’t about winning or losing. I want you and the others to test yourselves as individuals and as a team. Do your best. Find what works. What doesn’t. We’ll figure out where to go from there. Together.”

He’d joined the League of Villains looking for a means to exact revenge. Being told what he’d always wanted to hear made for a hell of a bonus prize.

Dabi pounced. His mouth mashed into Shigaraki’s, muffling an astonished yelp. Cold hands latched onto the front of his shirt. Not Decaying. Not shoving. Clinging. Insisting. He obliged, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist and shoulders, then letting his weight carry them both to the floor. They rolled across the maps, scattering stolen papers as they went. Lips and teeth and tongue combined in different ways between every panting break for air.

Winding up sprawled on top, Dabi relocated his kisses to Shigaraki’s neck. The whimper that came out of him when just a bit of suction was applied under the corner of his jaw went directly to Dabi’s dick. Shigaraki writhed, supple and strong, yet unsure and overwhelmed. His fingers—three on each hand—clutched hard enough to hurt through a carapace of scar tissue. The scabs crosshatching his neck scraped the tongue and tasted of rust.

He surpassed any fantasy conjured up in the past few weeks. Because he was real. Unpredictable. And, in that slice of time at least, he was Dabi’s.

Shigaraki gasped and arched at the feel of a hand slipping up under his shirt. Dabi became so absorbed in the smooth, cool texture of the skin beneath his fingertips he didn’t think anything of the arm that snaked around his own, or the heel hooked behind his knee until, with a sharp twist of hip, he was rolled. The air rushed out of him in a huff as he hit the floor. Shigaraki didn’t look it, but he was solid, planting himself on Dabi’s chest and pinning both his wrists above his head.

“No,” he said, decisive if out of breath. “We do this my way.”

Dabi kept perfectly still. One wriggle, one shift, and he would’ve cum in his pants right then and there. So, he relaxed one muscle group at a time. Controlled his breathing. Showed his boss what a good boy he could be.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, already positive he’d like the answer.

Despite his command of the situation, Shigaraki’s gaze wandered off to the side. Unsure. Shy. God, it was going to be fun fucking both descriptions right out of him.

“I don’t have…experience…with this, ah, subject.”

Dabi had to keep his teeth clamped together to keep from laughing. Good. He had to be good or he wouldn’t get any treats.

“So, I thought…maybe we could each make a list. Of things we like—or might like. And of stuff we don’t, or aren’t interested in. Then…pick and agree on an option. Until…until someone gets bored or just doesn’t want to anymore or…whatever.”

The habit of exceeding expectations was quickly becoming one of Dabi’s favorite things about his new boss. “Is that what you’ve been up to these past three days? Thinking about what you want to do to me?”

Shigaraki shifted his weight forward a bit, breathing definitely speeding up a notch. “Not the entire three days,” he muttered.

Dabi rested his hands on slim hips, keeping them still before they sent him over the edge. “When did you want this list?”

He considered, worrying his already cracked bottom lip with his teeth and then catching the trickle of blood with the point of his tongue in a way that made Dabi’s toes curl in his boots. “We’ll need to start meeting regularly to work on the plan anyway, so…tomorrow, at this time.”

Meaning he had already made a list and wanted to see what Dabi came up with. “Done.”

“Well.” Shigaraki cleared his throat lightly. “It’s settled then.” Carefully, he started to slide his leg over. Froze when a soft hiss escaped Dabi. A finger stroked one of the staples in his cheek before pulling back, remembering permission to do so hadn’t been agreed on yet.

“Did I hurt you? When we rolled over?”

Absolutely precious. Dabi smiled. “Not as much as I want you to.”

Red eyes blinked rapidly, wide and startled. “I’m…sorry?”

“Don’t be. Now go on. Let me up.”

Still looking a bit lost, Shigaraki did, sitting with his arms wrapped around his legs. Dabi sat upright on a long exhale. Paused to collect himself. Got to his feet when he was reasonably sure he wouldn’t ruin his last clean pair of pants doing so.

“You’re leaving?”

The note of disappointment in Shigaraki’s tone almost toppled his resolve. He looked over through lowered lashes. “I have something pressing to take care of at the moment. Unless you don’t want to wait for a list to find out what it is.”

One glance below Dabi’s belt transformed confusion into open-mouthed understanding. “Oh.” Shigaraki buried his face in his knees. “Sorry?”

“I already told you. Don’t be.” And before his willpower evaporated completely, “See you tomorrow.”

He’d made it to the door when a final thought sprung on him. Pausing with his fingers on the handle, he peered back over his shoulder. “You didn’t come up with this whole training camp plan just to score some alone time with me, did you?”

The choked sound that came from Shigaraki was answer enough. Dabi finally allowed himself to laugh as he let himself out.

[myinnersoul1412]

Hatori Novel Smexy scene 1

I'm not good at drawing, and I'm good at writing either so I hope this could somewhat serve at a present for fellow Domestica fans on Hatori’s birthday

Please note that it's translated by Google translate + a few more translator+ some common sense or interpretation so please take it with a grain of salt. I don't know Japanese beyond the basic characters but I'm just doing it because I love them so much

Even though the translation probably sucks, please don’t bring it anywhere since I spent a ton of time on it and just want to share.

Prior to this scene, Hatori and Yoshino were on a date at to collect materials for the manuscript. The setting is on Christmas’eve. They went to a Chinese restaurant to eat together, and while the food was good, Yoshino commented that Tori’s food was still better. During the meal, Hatori had to step outside for a work phone call because a newbie author (female, 2nd year college) wanted to ask his opinion on her storyboard.

Funny note: Hatori hated taking pictures but still posed as models for Yoshino to take pics anyway. 

Some touching lines:

Speaking of the real intention, it is not without thinking that this convenient dream will be awakened by the sudden impetus. The end may come someday, but I'm still going to enjoy this happiness. Even if this comes to an end some day, now that you have enjoyed all this happiness, even if you wake up from a dream, you will never forget it.

(If I say this to Yoshino, the him from way before would have been stunned **)

He secretly smiles at his self-ridicule. Of course, he wants to be with Yoshino his whole life.

As long as he’s allowed to be by his side, he’s not going to leave.It's just that that feeling and his wish for Yoshino's happiness are a little different. In the unlikely event that Hatori’s presence could be a burden or have a negative effect, he intends to behave accordingly. It is a commandment to himself.

This smexy scenes comes after their date. Enjoy!

Because this year progress is not desperate, there are no assistants coming in and out, and Yanase should be stuck at the seinenshi’s sensei place.(T/N: magazine for young men)

 “Well then. Don't stay up late today and go to bed early. Good luck with the manuscript tomorrow”  

“…………”

For some reason, Yoshino didn't try to step out, even though Hatori tried to see him off at the branch road to his home. On the contrary, he was pinching Hatori’s coat and holding it down.

“Yoshino?”

Yoshino’s cheeks that were looking down were slightly red. It didn't look like he was drunk, but could it be the afterglow of alcohol? 

“------You know. Normally, you wouldn’t go home on a day like this?”

“?”

 He didn't understand what Yoshino was saying, and the former had a perplexed face. In response to such a dull reaction from Hatori, Yoshino stamped his feet on the ground.

 “So! You're back from a date!”

 I looked(T/N: look, but with eyes wide open) at Yoshino who raised his voice frustratingly. I couldn’t hide the surprise that Yoshino also perceived today as a date.  

 “What’s with that face! Even though you can add embarrassing scenes to a plot, what do you mean you can't do it in real life……”

 Yoshino murmured the dissatisfying words. I rubbed my eyes to see if I was having a convenient dream, but it seemed to be reality.

 “I want to confirm, that is to say ---”

 “Read the mood in times like this!”

 He held his breath against Yoshino who glared at him with a red face.  

 (This is……is it okay to accept the invitation……?)

 In retrospect, today's Yoshino was somewhat strange from the beginning. I wondered if it might even snow, but I would be troubled if he got angry.  

 “Can I stay the night?”

 “………”

 When asked straight, Yoshino dyed red to his neck and nodded a little.  

Both of them were silent on their way to Yoshino’s room. Every step I took made me feel more nervous. My body temperature gradually rose, even though the cold night breeze was brushing my cheeks.

“Ah? Where did I put the key?”

 Yoshino panicked in front of the room. He was just looking at the pockets in his coat and trousers, and he seemed to be forgetting the bag on his shoulder.  

 “Is it there in your bag pocket?”

 “R-right”

 The fingers that opened the zipper were trembling. Yoshino, who had no sense of control, dropped the key. The sound of bumpy metal crashed into the hallway.

 “I'll open it”

 Hatori picked up the key and opened the front door. At that moment, Yoshino felt small and seemed to be holding his breath.  

 “Thank- thank you”

 Open the door and encourage Yoshino to enter first. Yoshino’s movement walking in front of me started to feel more jerky.  

 “Um, do you want something to drink?”

 The voice which asked the question was trembling too. Even though I was just nervous, it seemed like Yoshino's tension was infectious.  

 I guessed I should have gotten used to it, since we had already done it so many times, but I didn’t want to look so dismayed in front of the person I liked.

 “No”

 “Ah, then how about a shower?

 “……Ah”

 His pink nape caused the little amount of reason remaining in me to give away. I held Yoshino’s shoulders, turned him around, and strongly kissed him.

 “Nnn……?”

 Perhaps surprised by Hatori's brute force, Yoshino’s eyes were wide open. However, immediately, the body’s tension was released and his eyelids lowered.  Eating his lips and twisting his tongue, Yoshino put his hands on Hatori's back. As the kiss deepened, the more they clung into each other.(T/N: literal translation is “the stronger the clinging force became”)

 “Nnn,n,nn……”

Embracing Yoshino's body, which was gradually melting, I became absorbed and devoured his lips. Every time I entangled my tongue, I heard a wet sound. I teased his tongue which was trying to entangle awkwardly, and enjoyed the mouth that was hotter than usual. I wanted to continue more, but when I noticed Yoshino who seemed to be suffocating, I broke the kiss with the feeling that my back hair was getting pulled.  

“……Stupid, we're still in the hallway”

Yoshino complained while being out of breath. Hatori strongly pulled Yoshino’s waist, who was glaring up at him with flushed cheeks, and whispered into his ear.  

 “It’s your fault for stirring me up(t/n: to stir up, to incite, to agitate). And you were responding, too”

 “That, that was just conditioned reflex……”

 “Is that so?”

 “What do you want to say!”

 “I didn’t say anything”

 “There's something written all over your face”  

 It was a sulking look, but there was sweetness in the gaze (T/N: not very sure about this part). Towards Yoshino who showed a sullen face due to the embarrassment, sadistic desires were aroused.

 “What is written, can you tell me carefully?”

 “Eh?-----Uwa”

 Heading to the bedroom while holding the waist, they fell into the bed entangled together.

 “Oi Tori----------”

 Fueled by Yoshino's moist eyes, he kissed him again as if he was being sucked in. He repeated the devouring kisses and ran his hands over Yoshino's clothes. While sighing and moaning into the sealed kiss, I pinned down and felt around/groped the thin body. Rolling up the inner knitwear, I touched his bare skin.

 I managed to get rid of the coat, and I was frustrated by the difficulty of movement while loosening the belt, and realized that I had not even taken off my jacket yet.

 (I really can't afford it)

 Internally, Hatori laughed bitterly at his impatience. He roughly stripped off his coat and jacket, which normally would have been dutifully hung, and pulled out his tie.  

 “Hey, slow down a bit………”

 “I can't”

 “Then try harder!”

If you answered immediately, you would get a retort from Yoshino. When I stroked around the area where Yoshino’s ribs had previously floated, Yoshino stirred under Hatori. It was still a bit thin, but it had gained a lot of flesh after all my daily efforts.

 “I'm deeply moved/very emotional that I've come to be able to grab it”

 “Oi, hey, don’t rub it……!”

 When Hatori grabbed his side, Yoshino wriggled ticklishly.  

“Then, how about here?”  

“Hya—”

He moved his hand further up, gently stroked the tip of his chest with the pad of his thumb, and then crushed it, a shrill voice escaped Yoshino's lips.The ticklish Yoshino was sensitive here too. When stimulated, it easily hardened. 

“Ah, mmm, ouch, stupid, not so hard”

 “You like it when it hurts, don't you?”  

 When you pinched it, the body jumped.

 “Ahh, n,nnn……!”

 When I knead it with some strength, it reddened like a fruit, and Yoshino rubbed his knees together as if frustrated. It looked like his nipples weren’t the only things getting hard.  

 When I forcibly split his knees and pressed my leg against his groins, I felt a hard tantalizing touch.

 “Ugh.... ah, wait, ah, ah”

 Rubbing it with your thigh made it even more tense. Hatori pushed down Yoshino's pants, which had been loosened at the waist. His underwear had changed color at some parts.

 “You're already wet”

 When I told him the fact, Yoshino turned red to his ears.  

 “W-Well, I'm not the only one... ah”

 “Maybe so”  

 “Ah……!?”

 He ran his index finger over the elastic of Yoshino’s underwear and lightly pulled it down, revealing a taut member. Hatori traced up the warped underside and scooped the moistened tip with his fingertips.

 “Ahh, ah………”

 When I wrapped my fingers around the whole cock and rubbed it gently, Yoshino let out a sweet and seductive/mellow voice. His appearance when clutching the bedsheet and enduring the pleasure was lovely.

 (How cute/How lovely)  

 He was usually sloppy, and he was quick to whine, but at the root of Yoshino's character is a stubbornness that hated to lose. Once he had made a decision, no matter what, he was not going to change it.

 “Yoshino, take that off”

 “Get ready first, you idiot...”

 While rebuking Hatori, Yoshino reached into a drawer on the sideboard. He found what he was looking for, and embarrassed to present something that could be used on him, he carelessly pressed it against my chest.  

 “Thank you”

 The bottle of lotion and the box of contraceptives that he had ready were new. I wondered what kind of expression did Yoshino buy these things with.

Resisting the urge to pursue the answer, I took the content in the palm of my hand. Making sure to squeeze it and spread it all over my fingers, I wrapped around his excitement again.  

 “Hya……ah,ah……!”

 When I made it slimy up and down, Yoshino's moan became even sweeter. After making it feel as tight as it could be, I probed behind with my wet fingers.  

 “Mmm,mm”

Yoshino sighed when I forcibly pushed my fingertips into the tightly closed place. He didn’t realize that he was tightening his limbs, but I pushed my fingers deeper and deeper.

 “Ngh,nghh……”

 Yoshino clenched his teeth as he endured the sensation of being probed inside his body.  It was not originally designed to accept foreign substances, but he slowly got used to it as lotion was added several times along the way.  Every time I pulled my finger in and out, a lewd squelching sound was heard.  

 “Ah…ah,ah……mm”

Yoshino's hands wandered around on the bed looking for something to cling to. Eventually, he grabbed a pillow and pulled it over to bury his face in it. Realizing that he didn’t want to let out his voice, I moved my fingers even more.  

 “Ah, ah, ah……!”  

 With increased fingers, I pushed hard against the inner wall and Yoshino's body jumped like a fish on land. I could tell that he was getting pleasure from the melting moans/charming moans.  

 I already knew all of Yoshino’s sensitive spots. I couldn’t afford to tease him today. Just tortured severely the spots where he would surely react.  

 “No, not only there, ahhh, ah!”  

 Yoshino wasn’t negative/contradictory about getting pleasure, but when he felt too good, he suddenly got scared.  I could understand the uneasiness of feeling like I was no longer myself. But I had no intention of toning it down.(T/N: other possible meanings: keeping it moderate/mild)

 “Aahh, no, ah, ah----!?”  

 The root of the arousal that was about to burst was tightened and the i that would have been risen was suppressed. Yoshino, who was going to be released, stared at Hatori with an agitated expression/ in turmoil.  

 “W-why……”  

 “You can hold it a bit more right?”  

 If I made him come first on a tiring day, he often fell asleep immediately after that. As expected, it would be a problem if that were to happen today.  I was already painfully tense. It wouldn’t be easy to take care of it alone.  

 “You have to take responsibility for the invitation”

 “Ahh……”  

 As I pulled out the fingers that were probing inside, a sweet, trembling voice escaped. I had feared it might still be a little tight, but my patience had already reached the limit.  

 “Are you ready?”(T/N: “Is it okay?”)

 “……Do whatever you want”(T/N: ……Suit yourself”)  

 With Yoshino's permission, I pushed open his knees. I restlessly loosened my waist and pulled my excited self out from the underwear.  I quickly put on the condom and when I fit into the prepared spot, the body temperature and pulsation were transmitted vividly.

 “Ah------”  

 I pushed the tip in with a huff. Running out of patience, I shoved in mercilessly.  Although it was still narrow/tight as he thought, but it had already learned Hatori’s shape and accepted him without refusal.  

 I secretly let out a sigh from the pleasure of being wrapped in the soft mucous membrane.

 “Nghh……why……why is it so big……ngh”  

 Yoshino glared at me resentfully with teary eyes. This might be more of a whining rather than a complaint. I was embarrassed to be complained about the body’s physiological reaction. It wasn’t something that could be controlled by reason.  

 “Of course it's because I want you. There isn’t any guy who’s not excited about holding someone he loves”  

“Idiot ......ngh”

 It was unreasonable to be spit a verbal abuse at like that even though I answered his question. In a fit of anger, I forcefully pushed it to the root, and cloudy whiteness was scattered by the momentum/impetus/force.

 “Ahh……ngh”

 He seemed to have come just by stimulation at the back because he was made to endure it earlier. The bodily fluid overflowing from the explosion was scattered across the thin abdomen.

 “I didn't say that you could come first right?”

 “B-but……”

 I wiped the overflowing bodily fluids with my fingers and treat Yoshino's arousal as if to smear it. I rubbed it hard, and it got tighter there with Hatori inside.

 “Ahh, ah, no, I’m going to come again……”

 “That won’t do. It's better if we come together right?”

 “Yeah ... but ...ngh”

 “You can't hold it for me?”

 “Meany Tori……Uh, ah, ah, nghh, ngh!”  

 What Yoshino said not to do was the same as what he said he wanted you to do. The reaction inside changed depending on the intensity of the stimulus. As I was enjoying the change, I was complained to by Yoshino, who was on the verge of tears.

“No, idiot, don't play anymore……ngh”  

 “You want me to focus more here?”

 “Ahngh!?”  

 I gave a hard shove at the place where our bodies connected.  

 “No, ahhh, ah, ah……ngh”

 I put myself into the root and shook up our connected bodies. Every time I sent my hips in, Yoshino's body jolted and trembled. I grabbed Yoshino's waist and held him up, bending his back heavily, and stirred his lotion-soaked wet insides mercilessly.

 “Ahhngh, ahh, no……ngh”  

While greedily gouging out the tangled mucous membranes, I drilled into the back again and again. When I sent my hip into the right place, Yoshino gasped as if to cry. That voice and expression further fueled Hatori. Hatori threw off his self-control and thrust up Yoshino in his lust.

 “Agh,ahh,ahhng,aah!”  

 At first, Yoshino was at my mercy, but gradually he started to move. It was unintentional, and probably unconscious. It was a pleasure that flew off all reasons, and he was trying to get more of it. Even if it was an act of instinct, it didn’t change what the expectation was.

 What Yoshino wanted, I just gave him exactly that

 (--------I’m really sly/cunning)  

 Every time I hold Yoshino like this, I felt indescribable elation and guilt.

All Yoshino must have had for Hatori, until the later revealed his hidden lust, were the feelings of comfort, friendship, and trust of a childhood friend. There might have been some sort of monopoly, but it probably wasn't that of love. I dragged Yoshino to this side, imposed my not-so-pretty desires on him, and instilled lust.

Even if Yoshino had had such experience, it was with the opposite sex and he was not in the receiving position. As a man, there must have been some confusion for him. Nevertheless, it was thanks to his generosity that he had accepted the position of being embraced on the receiving end.

He might not be aware of it himself, but Yoshino was the one who had the gut when the time came. Hatori's prudence was a mask to hide his mean, negative and cowardly self.

 “Ah! Not there, no, aghn, ah, aghn!”

 "Can't you say anything other than denial once in a while?"

 “Sh-shut up…..nghh���

 When I pointed out his lack of vocabulary, he glared at me with moist eyes. He usually had a face that didn’t seem to have anything to do with sexual things. But when he was embraced, he had such a face, so I couldn’t stand it. As I repeatedly thrust into the back, the connected part became loose. At that moment, I pulled myself out as much as I could and pushed it in.

 “Aaahhh……ngh”

With each extraction, the voice that spilled out became sweeter and sweeter. As I continued to gouge out the tightly-clung inner walls, Yoshino's face became distorted with pleasure.

 “You like it here right?”

“Yes, it feels good……nghh”  (T/N: Alternative: I like it. It feels good)

The reason why I deliberately asked the question when reason had failed was because I could hear an honest answer now.

 “Here?”  

 “Ughahh, ah,ah, ah….ngh”

 Yoshino, who was writhing and gasping, was driven even harder. When he squirmed and swayed, the thin body slid up on the bed.  

 “No, nghh, agnh, ah, ah……!”

Vigorously pulling his hips closer and thrusting even deeper. Yoshino also tangled his legs around Hatori's waist and clung to his back.  His lips came close to mine as if a pleading from Yoshino. Biting and kissing, I devoured on the impulse/urge.

 “Nn,n,n,nn……ngh”

 As I rocked my hips with our bodies close together, Yoshino's erection, which was overflowing with semen, rubbed against my abdomen. It seemed that the limit was already in sight.

When I parted my lips, there was a face right there that looked like it was about to burst into tears.

 “Tori……ngh, already, I’m coming, please……nghh”

In the blink of an eye, a single tear fell from Yoshino's eyes. I thought I'd tease him more, but I changed my mind on that expression.

“I know”

 Immediately, I increased the pace and caught up with Yoshino.  

 “Ahh, ahh, ah……ngh”  

 “-------Chiaki”

 “AH-----!?”

After an intense urging, they came almost simultaneously. Yoshino's lower abdomen quivered intermittently, overflowing with white turbidity.

 “Ah, nn……ngh”

 Then, after Hatori poured all the proof of his desire into Yoshino, he also pulled himself out. We remained silent, waiting for the heat to recede from our bodies. As I closed my eyes and surrendered to the pleasant exhaustion, Yoshino opened his mouth with rough breathing.

“……I've been meaning to tell you this for a while”

“Hm?”

“It’s foul play to call my name like that!”

Yoshino caught his breath, then paused, and grudgingly complained in Hatori's ear.

Personal notes: Hatori’s monologue is so sad omgg...the scene is like both sexy and hurt at the same time...what a writer

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 182

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 34 - “The Knight on a White Horse! Karen Protects Milk″ Date watched: 29 April 2020 Original air date: 30 September 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/8mj9Wl3 Transformation Gallery: https://imgur.com/a/6k6SzS0 Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

Where there is light, shadows lurk and fear reigns. Yet by the blade of knights, mankind was given hope.

Every so often there comes an episode of Precure that is absolutely iconic. This is one such episode. Milk gets sick and Karen has to joust Hadenya on horseback to protect her, putting her up there with other female action icons like Sarah Connor and Ellen Ripley in my book. Let’s explore!

The Plot

Karen is showing off her equestrian skills for her friends, and invites Milk up to have a ride, but when Milk collapses in her arms, Karen realizes she has a fever. They take her inside the mansion to assess her, and Nuts informs them that the only way to cure a resident of the Palmier Kingdom is with a special Pinky known as Cappy, which is not one that they’ve caught yet. Karen opts to stay behind and tend to Milk while the others go out to find the elusive pinky.

We’re treated to a brief scene in Nightmare where Bunbee is also sick and everyone else dismissively tells him to go home, they won’t miss him anyway. Hadenya volunteers to go fight the Precures and retrieve the Dream Collet this time.

Back at Karen’s residence, Milk is still suffering in bed and Karen flashes back to when she was sick as a child and Jiiya cared for her, so she goes to ask him for advice. He provides her with towels, ice water, and apples and instructs her how to tend to someone. He doesn’t ask many questions but it’s implied he knows more than he’s admitting about Karen’s patient. Karen goes back upstairs to attend to Milk, keeping her temperature regulated and feeding her porridge and apple slices, and she seems to be doing better.

Over in a nearby park, Coco, Nuts, Nozomi, Urara, Rin, and Komachi split into two groups to go look for the pinky. Coco and Nuts separately flash back to all the nice things Milk has done for them since arriving on Earth, and the girls encourage them to stay cheerful in their search, and they soon find Cappy. However, the fairies soon detect an evil presence back at the Mizuno estate...

After her horse makes a fuss, Karen looks out the window and sees Hadenya strolling across the pasture towards her house! Karen heads outside to confront her, vowing to protect Milk, so the vibrant villainess tosses a Kowaina mask all the way into the stable, where it lands on a saddle, flying out and turning into a demon horse. I include all that information because usually the kowaina sprouts from wherever the possessed object is, so the fact that it came flying out before mutating is unusual. Anyway. Karen transforms into Cure Aqua but Hadenya and her devil steed resist her kicks and thrash her about. Karen tries to stand, resolute on protecting Milk, but she’s visibly weakened and Hadnya knocks her back down, mocking her ability to protect anything. At that moment, the other four girls arrive and transform to face off against her, but even their combined might isn’t enough to overpower the general as she makes a lance out of a nearby signpost. From inside the stable, Karen’s horse Charlie is able to tell his owner is in danger and he breaks out to go help her. Aqua mounts her steed and summons the Aqua Ribbon, turning it into a sword (a feature that is not possible with the toy #falseadvertising). She squares off with Hadenya and they charge at each other, jousting back and forth for a few rounds before Aqua summons all of her strength to knock Hadenya’s lance out of her hand in a crushing blow. She dismounts and performs Aqua Tornado on the Kowaina, with Hadenya admitting that Karen surprised her before she flees.

Later, in Milk’s room, the girls all surround her bed as Karen explains that she protected her because she loves Milk’s smile. Cappy works his Pinky magic, healing her, and she seems a little confused about the day’s events. Coco and Nuts thank her for all her hard work for them, which makes her smile, then everybody but Karen leaves the room to go have tea. Milk thanks Karen sincerely for looking after her and protecting her, and the episode closes on a still of them embracing.

The Analysis

Starting in episode 26, and seen again in episode 30, Milk and Karen have been developing a closer bond with each other than what Milk has with any of the other members of the team. Karen is very patient with and supportive of Milk, and having been fairly high-strung herself at one time, she knows how to get through to her and explain things in a way she’ll understand. Now we get to see Karen’s compassion and protectiveness when Milk is at her most vulnerable. She does everything in her power to help, and even when she’s overwhelmed, she just stands right back up and keeps pushing forward and fighting the good fight. Would Karen do this for Coco or Nuts if they were in the same situation? Of course, but because Milk is more vulnerable, it’s more meaningful to their relationship that she does this. And the ending of the episode really shows the closeness of their bond as Milk thanks Karen very personally and sincerely for treating her and protecting her from Nightmare. The music during this scene is a slow violin and piano piece which accentuates the mood. It’s very tender and heartwarming.

Karen’s determination to help Milk is really inspiring, but one aspect I appreciate is that she doesn’t automatically know HOW to help. Instead, she thinks back to a time when she was in a similar situation and turns around to ask her own caretaker for advice. She actively seeks help, which fits her attribute of intelligence, and she works hard to help Milk. She tries her best to tend to the fairy, but we see her mess up a little bit. She cuts her finger when peeling the apple, and when feeding the porridge to Milk, Milk chokes a little bit and coughs it out. No harm is done, but these are both representative of Karen’s novice at this task, as well as her persistence in never giving up. You see this again during the battle with Hadenya. Aqua doesn’t know how she can beat the monster on horseback, but she knows she has to try. She isn’t explicitly able to ask for help, but Charlie comes to her aid anyway, showing her the way forward.

Persistence also applies to the other girls, Coco, and Nuts, who are out looking for Cappy. Everyone is doing this for Milk’s sake, and they know they can’t give up until they find the Pinky and save her, but while we see them searching for a while (It’s mid afternoon when they get to the park, and sunset when they find Cappy and return to the Minazuki estate) the emphasis isn’t on them, this is Karen’s episode. I do like the cutaways where Coco and Nuts are remembering the fun they’ve had with Milk, good times and bad. Coco in particular remembers a time when Milk scolded him for eating too many cream puffs... which actually is going to be topical in a few more episodes, so look forward to that.

I’ve said before that twilight scenes can enhance the drama, and that’s in full effect here. The entire battle sequence takes place at sunset, and the liberal use of secondary colors goes a long way to increase the intensity of the fight.

The kowaina is a deep purple, the sky is orange, the grass and trees are brown. Even Hadenya’s red and yellow appearance fits in with this, Aqua’s cool blue and cream clothes are the only thing breaking this up, helping to paint the picture that it’s her against the world. When her pure white horse arrives, it’s like a beacon of light, and she becomes Milk’s knight.

The idea of knights on horses protecting fair maidens is actually set up earlier in the episode, when Nozomi sees Karen practicing she daydreams about Coco riding in on a horse to rescue her as a princess.

However, it is of course Karen who ultimately takes the charge, becoming the knight on horseback, sworn to protect Milk from evildoers. It’s a powerful image and a powerful fight. Using the Aqua Ribbon as a sword is about ten times cooler than what the toy actually does, but Precure has an ongoing policy of no physical weapons, so this is about as good as it gets.

There is one flaw that permeates almost the entire episode, and that is the art style. Awkward facial expressions abound here, mostly involving wide mouths and half-lidded stares or just vacant expressions. Aside from this being mid-30s filler before they start to ramp up the plot in the late 30s and 40s, I have no idea why this is so ugly. The animation director for this episode is Kawano Hiroyuki, an animator at Toei with a long track record, who has been involved with the franchise as an animator, key animator, and animation director since the beginning all the way through to Maho Girls. For this series, he was the animation director on episodes 2, 10, 18, 26, 34, 41, and 49, as well as key animator on all of those episodes as well as 8, 33, and 35. I looked back at a bunch of these I could see a few similar instances of this kind of sloppiness, but his work is generally decent. Maybe they just rushed this episode out. The artwork in this show is usually solid, so maybe that’s why it stands out to me more when it’s bad, but half the episode looking like this sets off alarm bells in my head.

The last thing I want to touch on is Hadenya. She lost her previous outing, the episode right after the girls demonstrated that they’re exponentially stronger as a team than they are when even one of them is missing. And yet, here she is, kicking Karen’s ass and then the asses of the other four, only to be bested by Karen again in one-on-one combat. It’s effective at showing how strong she is, much more so than her previous appearance, but by the same token it shows just how determined Karen is to protect Milk, as she keeps standing up even after getting beaten into the ground repeatedly. I hope we get more battles with this level of intensity.

In summary, it’s a great episode, a beautiful focus on Karen and Milk’s growing relationship, and it was marred only by some ugly faces.

Next time, Bloody finally enters the scene. Look forward to it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 0 kettei. Don’t worry, we’ll have some next time!

[jooheonspinky]

Better Together

Characters: Hoseok and Female Reader

Genre: Angel, fantasy, angst

Synopses: He is a celestial being. A warrior for the heavenly Father. After centuries of observing humans, one in particular peaks his interest. What happens when he decides to act on his curiosity?

Word Count: 3.3K

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A/N: My intentions with this fic is not to make fun of nor to misrepresent the Christian faith. Neither is it my intention to push my religion on anyone. The idea for this story came to me in February 2018 when I saw a WINGS era mood board for Hobi and this is how the story played out. Please read with an open mind. 

It took me so long to finish it because I couldn’t figure out how I wanted it to go. I had ‘seen’ two scenes play out, but I could not figure out how to bring them together. The first scene was written out back in 2018 and now, in 2020, I finally received the inspiration to bring it together in this oneshot.

＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　✦　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

 From the glass wall of the high rise, Hoseok stood inside his darkened living room staring out at the dark abyss that lay beyond his dwelling on the seventy-second floor. For thousands of years his view had been from much much higher up. As he’d watch the humans and Earthly creatures from the galaxies above, Hoseok had only ever observed them with the eyes of a warrior. Aside from offering his protection on the spiritual realm from demons sent to attack, they were there as a way to pass the time whenever he was looking for a change in his daily routine. He mused he could compare it to a human watching a movie unfolding on a television screen. They held his interest for a moment, but then he’d be back assuring his Father’s orders be completed without delay, just as he did every day of his existence.

Just as an obedient son should.

As he focused now on the glass pane, pulling the nightscape into a blur, he fought back a grimace. It was not a gesture of pain. No. As his wings unfurled behind him and he caught sight of their reflection on the smooth surface, he was ashamed at their state.

Frayed and with the vibrant canary yellow color now fading to a dull ivory, he was reminded of how far he had strayed. His eyes followed a loosened feather as it twirled and fluttered ever so slowly to the white and grey marbled flooring beneath his bare feet. 

He was conflicted. Hoseok loved his Father, He who had created him and given him purpose. He who’s very essence was pure love. Hoseok would do anything to defend Him, to speak of His glory, empathy, compassion and mercy. No one and no being could doubt the love he had for Him.

Yet…

Willing his wings to disappear he pulled himself away from the windowed wall. The cool marble drew a chill from him with each step he took and even as Hoseok shivered, he wondered if he had ever known the sensation of being cold before now. Pausing in the kitchen to pour himself two fingers of Johnny Walker’s Blue Label...neat, he let out a sigh before taking a swig of the amber liquid. It scalded a fiery path down his esophagus before dropping into his stomach. He hissed, the fumes of the alcohol flowing out into the air. Settling the near empty glass on the counter, he let his head hang in defeat.

Hoseok squeezed his eyes shut tight, fighting against the image that was emblazoned behind his lids. But it was of no use. It only became more sharp, larger until he could clearly see her smiling at him.

Swiping his arm angrily across the counter, his eyes flew open at the sound of shattering glass. 

Great, another mess to clean up, he thought irritably.

A knock at his door had his head snapping to the right. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Being careful to maneuver around the shards, he reached the peephole and took a look, tensing when he recognized the visitor.

“Hoseok, I know you’re there,” she deadpanned. “The bellman told me he saw you come up.”

A huff of air escaped his lips in annoyance, but he still unlocked the door, walking away without opening it. So much for hiding away for a while longer. He sensed when she opened it and stepped through ever so cautiously. But it wasn’t until he collapsed onto his onyx hued couch, his hunter green button up settling around him as his back connected with the cushions, that he finally dared look in her direction.

In an instant, his heart, an organ he had never even noticed before meeting her, galloped thunderously behind his rib cage. Just the sight of her silhouette in the darkened room was enough to cause him a near heart attack. 

How could humans bear it?

It was all too much. Too many emotions that he truly had no idea how to process. At home there was only devotional love, happiness, peace. There were no tears, sadness, nor heartache.

Hoseok raked shaky fingers through his fiery red hair as the events from a week before replayed in his mind.

He had gone into the pharmaceutical room to grab a medication the veterinarian had prescribed for an ailing canine. When he’d opened the door, he’d caught his coworker, Mark, with his lips on hers. On hers! The woman he had risked so much for. He’d grabbed what he’d come for as they scrambled to separate. Hoseok returned to the examination room and finished assisting the vet, but then he’d left , faking illness, and hadn’t returned since.

If only she knew all that he had sacrificed just to be near her… But therein lay the problem, didn’t it? He’d never professed his attraction towards her. He’d been too entranced by the feelings she invoked within him that he’d been content with just being near her. Hoseok found himself mesmerized by the way she carried herself. Her positive attitude was infectious. And there was a light inside her that shown so brightly, he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. This was why he had used his powers of persuasion to get a job their at the veterinary clinic she worked at. She was like having a piece of home here on Earth.

He had not thought about another human swooping in and romancing her. How foolish and naive he’d been.

“Hoseok?”

Her questioning and titillating voice carried over from the front door. She hadn’t come in too far, but he’d heard the door slip shut. He watched her hand feel across the wall near the door jamb until her fingers connected with a small circular knob. As she turned it, illumination slowly drew the darkness away. His eyes squinted at the intrusive light.

“Ugh,” he groaned disdainfully, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“There you are!” He heard the smile in her tone and his heart rate sped up even more. She gasped softly, most likely catching sight of the shattered glass and splatters of whiskey on the kitchen floor. He felt the couch indent as moments later she sat down beside him. “I’ve been so worried about you. Why haven’t you answered my calls?” she asked softly.

Oh right...that wretched electronic device. He hadn’t even bothered to attach it to the charging cord since he’d come here that day.

“Dead,” he mumbled roughly.

His phone or his heart he wasn’t sure which he meant.

“I figured,” she said. “I’m sorry to just show up outta the blue. But I truly was worried. So was the doctor, so he allowed me to get your address so I could do a well check on you. Are you ok?”

Far from it, he thought inwardly. But how could he express this to her? How could he tell this mere human that seeing her kissing Mark had hurt him…a celestial being? He was an angel from Heaven; stronger than any human on Earth, yet she had still found a way to wound him.

She tugged his arm down away from his face. It came to rest on his abdomen and he just stared at the limb, not wanting to meet her gaze just yet. She just had way too much power over him. When she leaned down, searching for his eyes, she proved it. He couldn’t refuse looking up into her eyes. She captivated him...and frightened him at the same time.

“Please,” he begged, wishing for mercy from the torture she was putting him through.

Her gaze softened as she dropped a comforting hand onto his. Her warmth seeped into his skin and he had to fight back a sigh of contentment.

“You’re not sick, are you?” she asked with a knowing glint in her eyes. Hoseok turned his face to the side, needing to break the eye contact. “Hmmm,” she chuckled. “I think I know what’s going on here. What you saw that day was not what you think. I’m not interested in him.” 

At this, Hoseok turned to face her, only slightly ashamed at the instant hope he felt at hearing those words. It was then, as he took in the slight blush to her cheeks and the look in her eyes as she openly gazed at him, that he realized he recognized it. It was the same way he looked at her. Could it be this entire time she had liked him, too?

He wriggled into a sitting position and earnestly confessed, “I’ve felt strongly towards you for some time and didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we had. Seeing you with Mark... I feared I had waited too long and lost you anyway…”

“No,” she shook her head with a giggle. “I’ve liked you, too, I just wasn’t too sure how you felt.”

“So foolish,” he sighed and she huffed a sound of affirmation.

All this wasted time because of doubt. Had he only voiced his feelings once he’d realized how he felt, he would not have had to experience longing, jealousy and heartache.

He raised a tentative hand and brushed his knuckles across her cheek wanting to feel the warmth from the rosy tint that colored the skin there. Her eyes darkened suddenly, her lips parting slightly as she drew in a heavy breath. Hoseok’s eyes widened a bit as a flutter deep in his belly caught his attention and a stirring began in his groin. 

This sensation was new to him. He’d never felt anything like this before. It felt...nice...good…great, actually and he wanted to know more of it. Leaning forward, he mimicked what he had seen Mark do, wanting to replace her memory of a kiss with one of his own. Hoseok wanted her to think only of him.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he drew closer and as his lips pressed against hers, he was certain his heart would burst. Her mouth moved against his, coaxing his lips to part. And when her tongue entered, exploring his mouth, a zillion nerves in his body fired off at the same time. For the briefest of seconds he forgot how to even breath.

She was the first to pull back, a giddy smile now spread across her flushed lips.

“You ok there?” she giggled when all he did was continue to stare at her wide-eyed.

He gulped audibly, nodding, “I think I will be, but just to be sure...we should do that again.”

She laughed before leaning over and obliging. This kiss was just as amazing as the first. The feelings she invoked in him were too intense, he found he couldn’t think. All that he could focus on was her, her lips, her body, the sweet sounds she made deep in her throat as the kiss deepened. 

Wanting to be nearer to him, she shifted her position, straddling him between her legs. His hands instantly slid up her thighs and onto her hips as if magnets drew them there. It was his turn to moan when her hips rolled into him. He was losing control. It all felt new and absolutely wonderful. It was no wonder why the humans engaged in this act as often as they did.

But not him.

He could not let his Father down in that way. He had already strayed so far, but this act...he could not bring himself to partake in it, no matter how much his body and mind craved to know what it would feel like to plunge himself inside this young woman and become one with her.

He sunk back into the cushions of the couch, pulling his lips from hers. Their breaths were heavy as she looked at him in question. He hated the doubt he saw within her eyes.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, sitting up, her palms on his chest.

He smiled up at her, his hand cupping her cheek.

“No, you haven’t,” he reassured her. “It’s just...I made a promise to my Father. I can’t betray His trust in me and I would be doing so if I had intercourse with you.”

Her eyes widened for the briefest of moments. He feared he had offended her as she immediately clambered off of him and returned to her originally placed sitting next to him on the edge of the cushion.

“I really appreciate your honesty,” she said after a moment. 

He sat up, surprised. “You are not upset?”

She laughed. “No.” His shoulders sagged in relief. “I might need a cold shower right now because, Hoseok, you are one tough man to resist, but I would never intentionally cause you to go against your beliefs. If sex is something you are waiting on because you promised your dad, then I have to respect that.”

His heart fluttered in his chest.

“That’s really big of you,” he smiled, quite pleased. “Not many women would be ok with a man wanting to remain celibate.”

She shrugged, “It’s your life. I can’t tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. And it’s selfish to get mad over something that I have not right to opine on. Honestly, I admire your restraint. Well, now that I know you’re ok, I should probably go.”

“No, don’t go,” he rushed, sitting up now beside her. “Can you sleep over?” She eyed him, questioningly. “I just want to hold you.”

Her face softened. “It will be torture for me,” she laughed, only half fibbing. “But...sure. Why not. You sure do like to tempt yourself.”

“I choose to call it a test,” he replied as he stood, offering his hand to her.

Her palm slid into his easily and he lifted her up, escorting her to his room without another word.

＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　✦　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Like an internal alarm clock, Hoseok awoke and quietly slid out of the bed. Y/N was still there, her face at peace as she continued to sleep in his bed. His bare feet padded quietly over the carpeted bedroom flooring. The sliding glass door slid open with a hushed swoosh and he gently shut it behind him. 

Out on the balcony, he opened his arms, palms up and welcomed the new morning. Songs of praise left his parted lips as he began to worship. And he knew he was heard. Hoseok felt it in his heart that his Father was pleased. This settled his troubled heart much.

What he did not expect was to be summoned. His wings unfurled in obedience and he had to concentrate to make them disappear again. He didn’t want to go before telling Y/N, but just as he made to turn around, there was a force that lifted him right off of his feet.

The decision had been made for him. 

No longer able to resist the pull, he let himself be drawn up, up, and up, oblivious that Y/N stood at the sliding glass door, her mouth agape in shock as she watched Hoseok rise up and then disappear right before her eyes.

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“Father,” Hoseok greeted, down on one knee, eyes cast to the ground.

“Hoseok, do you know why I have summoned you?”

His breath instantly caught in his throat. Of course he knew why he had been called back home. What illusion had he made himself believe that he thought he could keep anything from the omnipresent and all knowing creator of all things?

“Yes, Father,” he replied, desolately.

“Rise.”

 Hoseok obeyed, hands clasped at his back as he kept his eyes averted from the larger than life being that glowed before him. His Father was light itself, the luminescence so bright, it obscured His face. Though he had never clearly gazed upon the visage that was his Father, Hoseok knew that His face was the epitome of love and warmth. He found being in His presence soothing, settling his mind whenever he engaged in a rather tough battle with a demon. Even now, as he wished to be back near Y/N, he also felt most joyous to be back home.

“Yes, Father,” he nodded as he awaited to receive any punishment he may receive.

“Hoseok, you are one of my most trusted warriors,” He began. “A fighter never shying away from helping anyone in need whether on Earth or here. I have never had any trouble with you.”

Hoseok swallowed hard, nervousness, another new emotion, creeping up on him. Was he about to be banished as his brother Lucifer had been? He would not be able to live if that were so.

“I never wished to cause any trouble,” he spoke up. “I let my curiosity get the better of me, but I promise, I never meant to disrupt our relationship.”

“No, son,” He smiled. Or atleast, Hoseok imagined he smiled. “I know you, as I know all of my children. I know you never meant for things to get this far. Is there something you wish to ask me?”

His heart fell to the pit of his stomach. Did he dare ask? Would He take offense? Hoseok was afraid suddenly. No matter what choice he made, someone’s feelings would be hurt.

“Father,” he began, falling to his knees again and bowing. “Please take no offence in my words. Know that I love you and will worship you all the days, but I fear I have sinned and fallen in love with one of your human creations.”

His heavenly Father chuckled, “Rise, warrior. No need for this feeling of shame. I have created humans, have loved them. How could I not expect you to feel a deep love for one? But I have seen your restraint. You have not been frivolous, honoring your promise. For that reason, I will grant you a return to your Earthly woman.”

Stumbling up onto his feet, his mouth hung open in surprise for the briefest of moments.

“Really?” he questioned, unable to believe what he had heard. 

“Yes,” He replied, pausing momentarily. “But there is one stipulation.”

Hoseok froze, staring to the side of the luminescent being. “And what is that?”

“You will become human, mortal. Never able to return here. Judgement will be passed upon you just as it will be on them.”

He hesitated, teeth worrying at his bottom lip as he mulled the words over and over in his mind. Stay and be surrounded by the love of his creator or leave and return to Y/N’s embrace.

“I…” Hoseok began, his heart hammering roughly beneath his ribs. “This doesn’t, by any means, mean I love her more than you…”

“I know, my son,” his Father, nodded. “I know your heart.” Hoseok’s eyes water, missing his Father already. “You can still speak to me through prayer. I will always be there for you.”

“Thank you, Father,” Hoseok bowed.

As the words left his lips, his Father raised his hand and Hoseok was once again on his balcony. Only seconds had passed here on Earth, though his time at home had been over thirty minutes. Squeezing his shoulder blades together, he felt his muscles and skin ripple, but no wings emerge as before. Momentarily he felt regret, sadness at the loss, but then he looked up at the sky that was just beginning to brighten with the rising sun and mouthed the words ‘thank you’.

Turning, he froze at finding Y/N staring back at him through the glass. She slowly, hesitantly, slid the door open.

“Hoseok,” she mumbled, perplexed.

“Everything ok?” he asked, nonchalantly.

Her voice still laced with confusion, confessed, “I thought I saw you floating up and disappearing, but I think it was just a trick of the light because of the vertical blinds shifting there. They must have just distorted my view and…”

Hoseok drew closer, saying, “Yeah, no. Definitely a trick of the light because I would never purposely leave you.”

Her doubts finally assuaged, she smiled as she stepped into Hoseok’s open arms.  He sighed in contentment, looking forward to experiencing all these emotions now as a human.

＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　✦　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Image Credits:

Hoseok on roof top: @bts_twt

Hoseok floating: WINGS Tour video

Feathers

Clouds (Smoke & fire by Jason Leung) @ninjason

Better Together Neon Sign

Angel Wing

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[fostersffff]

Trials of Mana Demo Impressions

The Bad

Hoo boy, this voice acting is something. I’ve become a lot softer on criticizing voice acting over time, accrediting the majority of bad performances to bad direction, but in this case I really think it’s a mix of lackluster direction and performance. I think Kevin is the prime example, where the actor is attempting to do the stilted caveman speak, but isn’t committing all the way. Reisz’s voice actress also has a handful of lines that sound like they were her reading the script for the first time and wasn’t sure how to inflect. The Japanese audio sounds a little better in terms of “feel”, but considering Square-Enix’s track record with good voice acting, this is slightly disappointing.

The new soundtrack is hit or miss. Some of the songs got the love and attention they deserve, like Where Angels Fear to Tread and Powell, but Left-Handed Wolf and Nuclear Fusion use some really crappy sounding electric guitar samples. I don’t feel compelled to switch over to the original soundtrack, but I’m glad the option is there.

I’ve done a lot of bitching about FE3H since its release for lackluster animations, but Trials of Mana is right up there with it. It’s a problem I notice in a lot of anime styled games where the way the characters move just doesn’t match up with the way they look, and that’s certainly the case here. What’s most confounding is how little facial emoting there is, but so many close ups on characters faces, highlighting exactly how little facial emoting there is.

All of these complaints are tied to the fact that this is definitely a medium budget game. It probably had more money to play with than the last few Tokyo RPG Factory games, but less than something like Octopath Traveler. I can’t really even be too mad about this considering the way the Secret of Mana remake turned out, because I was utterly convinced the options for a Seiken Densetsu 3 remake were something like that or nothing at all, but it is noticeable. But I can tell you where they probably spent the bulk of that money:

The Good

Combat is REALLY good!

All characters share a universal combo system. You have a weak and a strong attack, and they can be combined to either perform a repel attack (knock away a single enemy and interrupt them from attacking) or an area attack (self-explanatory). You can also string together three weak attacks, or charge up a single strong attack, and you even have some basic air combos. It’s simple, but it feels very good.

Because there’s now a proper combat system in place, your class skills are now essentially Super Moves. In the original, three/four hits would charge your meter enough so that you could do a slightly stronger attack. In the remake, you have a minor risk/reward system where using power attacks that require a little more commitment (especially charged power attacks) will reward you with more meter, but they also leave you prone to taking more damage. It’s terrifically implemented.

One of the biggest and best things about the combat system is the integration of MMO-style warning indicators. When an enemy is preparing to use a special ability or spell, a bright red indicator appears on the ground. They come in different shapes and sizes, and they gradually fill themselves in. Once full, the attack happens and if you’re still standing in it when it does, it’ll deal a ton of damage. This is where your dodge comes in: as far as I can tell, the dodge in Trials of Mana doesn’t have any invincibility frames like other action games, because the dodge is literally just to help you quickly evacuate from standing in bad. I’m thrilled to see MMO-style warning indicators make their way into something other than MMOs, and an action RPG feels like the perfect fit. Like, as much as I enjoyed the Final Fantasy VII Remake demo, it really feels like it could use something like this.

Not sure if this is limited to Hard Mode, but some enemies will be shielded, requiring you to use charged power attacks to break the shield before you can actually start dealing damage. I’m hoping it’s featured in at least Normal Mode, because it forces the player to not just mash weak attacks.

Now that I’m done gushing about combat: the character designs and general aesthetic of the game is also great. The main character designs all look great in 3D, and I’m glad a lot of minor characters have had their designs tweaked to make them stand out more, like the Beast King, Ludgar, and Bil & Ben. The environments are designed to match the characters in terms of color saturation, which makes every feel right.

The addition of a jump button has expanded out exploration to include some very light platforming. You’re incentivized to explore every nook and cranny not just of the wilderness but towns and cities to find treasure chests and loose items. The jump is a teensy bit floaty, but considering you don’t go very high and air combos don’t require precision positioning it all works perfectly well.

The map and objective markers are really welcome additions to the game, especially since multiple areas are considerably larger by virtue of being combined into one. However, if you’re a masochist, the game also includes the option to turn both of those off, so if you want to fumble around in the dark like the Super Nintendo original, you’re more than welcome to.

Finally, I love what they’ve done with the level up and skill system. You get exp bonuses in combat for fulfilling certain goals, like beating all the enemies within a certain timeframe, not taking damage, or using your class skill, which is another incentive for skillful play. Leveling up earns you points you can allocate towards your stat of choice, just like the original, but now hitting certain point totals will give you actual bonuses. The bonuses are either character specific- Charlotte gets one that causes her to gain meter whenever she uses a healing spell, for example- or “chain” bonuses, which you equip to one character but apply to the entire party. None of these (at least for the base classes) are tremendous and game changing, but I imagine these are going to be substantial for class changes.

The Rest

As expected, the Switch version runs worse than the PS4 and PC versions. I’m not an expert at distinguishing resolutions, but since the art style isn’t super photorealistic, the game looks quite good on the Switch outside of a handful of instances where textures popped in late. More importantly, the game is locked to 30 frames per second, compared to 60 on PS4 and up to 120 on PC. This isn’t as huge a deal as it could be since the game isn’t super reflex based the way other action games like Devil May Cry or Bayonetta are- even on hard mode you have adequate time to respond to enemy attacks- and I didn’t notice any severe framerate drops even during crowded battles or the boss fight, but the game definitely feels better at 60 FPS+.

The default movement speed feels a little slow, but you do have a dash. I get the impression that the game’s speed was designed around the combat first, which was probably the right decision.

I expressed a little concern after watching one of the gameplay demonstrations about the voice clips, and I hoped there wouldn’t be a voice clip after every combat encounter. Thankfully that appears to be the case. There are also different possible voice clips, and divided amongst three characters it seems like it won’t be grating, or at least not immediately.

Another thing I was worried about was the length/amount of disruptive animations, but in addition to only occurring on class skills and summons, there’s an option to disable animations entirely.

Some enemies will still explode into a pile of bones, which is just terrific.

You’re given the option to actually play through the unique opening segments of your chosen party members, as opposed to just seeing them in a brief flashback scene.

Speaking of the introductory segments, I love that they altered Kevin’s journey to Jadd so that instead of taking a boat he tries to swim across the ocean.

With the exception of some inter-party banter during gameplay, the script is exactly the same as the original version included in Collection of Mana, confirming my suspicion that the only reason we finally got CoM was because they were bringing this script over anyway. I’m ultimately glad that’s the case because I’m glad to have CoM, but there are certainly moments I wish they would have massaged out the script to accommodate for the fact that they can do much more with the story than on the Super Nintendo. It’s got me really curious about whether or not that newly announced post-game story is going to stick out like a sore thumb against the rest of the game.

If the opening credits are anything to go by, it looks like this game is being developed for Square-Enix by a company called “Xeen”. I can find literally no information on them whatsoever, so if they are a brand new studio, fucking big kudos to them.

[writer-and-artist27]

Cuddles

Takes place when the goofball couple are 18-19. A bit after this thing. Written because, of course, Lang inspired me again. :) Please blame Lang for the fluff tirade I’ve been on! Now to write more S&S… 

Song this time comes from her recommendations, being Fire Emblem. The song that started this whole thing, at least from my side, is this one from RWBY Volume 6. 

----------------------------

Uchiha Obito loved his new girlfriend. Sure, she wasn’t who he was expecting initially, considering he had eyes for Rin in those first few years. But Tomo-chan grew on him so much, it was hard to distance himself, especially when she hugged him. Who could turn down such a soft person anyways?

Even now, when on a run back to his second home after a mission report, Obito could’ve sworn he smelled something sweet in the distance. The thought of silky black hair and a warm smile merely made him run faster across rooftops. Nagareboshi Café wasn’t far away, so reaching a window into the house was easy enough. 

The sweet scent got stronger as soon as the familiar red awnings of the business came into view, and Obito waved as soon as Hikari-bachan caught sight of him, perching on a nearby electric pole. 

“Here to visit!” he yelled as always, and Hikari-bachan simply smiled in reply. This had already become a routine for him, even before he had started this relationship with Tomo-chan, but at least keeping up family relations made things feel like he really was home. “Is Tomo-chan upstairs?”

“She’s baking, Obito!” Hikari-bachan called back to him, smile wide on her cheeks. “Go through the kitchen window if you’re not going to use the door!” 

Heh, she knew his tactics already.

“Got it!” The window he always liked was open, so he could easily perch nearby on an awning and look in.

Sure enough, the sweet scent was from the oven, probably from cookies or a baking cake. Tomo-chan wasn’t in immediate view, so Obito closed his eyes before activating Kamui. The last thing he wanted was to get a spatula in his face, but that did not stop him from wanting to surprise his girlfriend at least once. Or twice. Or more.

Slipping past the window and phasing into the room felt like child’s play, but he made sure to fully materialize before moving forward. Sure enough, Tomo-chan was sitting at the kitchen table, her back towards air and not against the chair as she peered over a book. With a single breath, she raised a hand to brush her braid back behind her ear, and the spring air colored her cheeks that same adorable pink. The pink frills on her knee-length dress and the matching yellow apron just reminded Obito of spring, and overall, it was just his beautiful girlfriend who hadn’t noticed him yet. 

Again.

Obito grinned, making his way over as quietly as he could. “To-mo-chan~!” Once his arms successfully wrapped around her waist from behind, Tomo-chan let out a surprised squeak, her cheeks flushing a darker pink from realization. Cute. “Whatcha doing?” 

“O-Obi!” Tomo-chan turned her head to pout at him, eyebrows furrowed from clear embarrassment. “I-I was reading! When did you come in?!”

“Just now!” Obito could just smell the sweetness of the nearby pastries and Tomo-chan all mixing together in the air, and it all made for a scene that could literally be called heaven. “Kamui’s useful for sneaking in!”

Tomo-chan’s cheeks puffed out, almost like a chipmunk. Awww. “Y-You used the window, didn’t you?”

“Guilty as charged!” 

Tomo-chan sighed before closing her book, turning to him with an exasperated smile. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

“I dunno,” Obito mused with a grin, but he still lifted her up from her chair so that he could sit down in his own chair and bring her along too. She could fit in his lap no problem, and by then, he could see her face more clearly. And heh, even her squawk at being lifted was cute. “Maybe kiss me?” 

Tomo-chan flushed red. “Y-You dork. You’re just fishing for those,” she accused, swiveling in his lap in an attempt to get out, but with how her hands laid flat against his chest, it said something else. “Besides, you saw me at least two weeks ago…”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t miss you!” Obito cooed, leaning in to rub noses. It was enough to earn absolutely adorable giggles out of his girlfriend, so that went as planned. “Missions can be rough, Tomo-chan! Can’t blame a guy for missing his girlfriend!”

“Mou,” Tomo-chan said softly, her smile turning fond in time with her hair falling against Obito’s flak jacket thanks to the new position they took up on the poor chair. “I just don’t know what to do with you, Obi.”

Obito could feel his cheeks flush to match hers, but he couldn’t help but be cheeky about it. “Love me?” 

“You’re not wrong,” Tomo-chan mused, and then — shit, she was kissing him. It wasn’t a full-on kiss, just a small hesitant press of their lips together, but Obito could taste a little sugar. Probably from whatever she was baking. She pulled back as quickly as she came onto him, shyly averting her gaze and clenching his jacket. “I-Is that enough for you?”

Obito pretended to think on it while snaking an arm around her back to reach her hair. It was getting longer. Beautiful. “Nah,” he smirked, then pulled.

The surprised squeak was muffled in the kiss before Tomo-chan properly melted, so Obito made sure to hold on and not let her go. Tomo-chan tasted as sweet as she smelled, and he would’ve tasted more if not for the hands weakly pushing against his chest. 

“Obi — nn, c-could you listen?” 

Obito teasingly licked her lips before initiating an open-mouthed kiss.

“O-Obi!” 

Awww. After a few seconds, Obito pulled back to take in her expression. Tomo-chan was blushing hard enough to put a cherry to shame, her breath coming out in shivering pants as she narrowed her eyes at him. “S-Seriously… you don’t have to make me melt in the first ten minutes you come here.” Her hands clenched into fists as she weakly bapped his chest through his flak jacket, ducking her head. “You are frustrating.”

“Yet you love me anyways,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her head. It earned him another adorable squawk, but before he could think on it, there was a loud noise behind him.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP. 

“Oh,” Tomo-chan said suddenly, gently pushing him back so she could get to her feet and trot back into the kitchen. “The cookies are done.” She immediately put on pink oven mitts, opening the oven door to take out a cookie sheet covered with the delicious circles. She poked one with a mitt-covered hand, smiling before turning around to face him. “Obi? If you’re done with being frustratingly affectionate, do you want to taste-test? I have cinnamon and pecans in these.”

The sparkles around Tomo-chan seemed to come out of nowhere, but at this point, Obito didn’t really mind considering how she was just angelic. “Of course I want to!”

----------------------------

“It’s definitely good, Tomo-chan, I’d just say to use a bit more sugar,” Obito said around a mouthful of cookie, casually trying to steal a glance of his girlfriend as she wrote notes in a small notebook at the table. “After so many cookies, the taste can get a liiiiittle bland.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, I just don’t want your taste buds dying out from too much sugar, Obi,” Tomo-chan responded half-heartedly, her pencil smoothly moving along the current page. “You’ve had…” she raised her head to glance over the cookie sheet, quirking an eyebrow. “How many now?”

“Five.” 

Tomo-chan gave him a look.

“What?” Obito brandished his current half of a cookie to her with a sheepish grin. “Your cooking is good, Tomo-chan! I don’t know what other advice I can give when I love everything!” 

Yet again, Tomo-chan was blushing. So cute. “Y-You do know that’s the most troubling part, right?” she said slowly in that embarrassed high-pitch of hers, turning back to her notebook to write before pausing. “I want to keep making food that you would enjoy, Obi. If you just keep liking everything, I’m worried it’s going to get monotonous…” she trailed off at the last part, quiet as her pencil fell down into the notebook’s open spine. 

Obito sighed through his nose before putting down his cookie and wrapping an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders. They really needed to work on negative self-talk together. “Nothing’s monotonous in Konoha, Tomo-chan,” he said honestly, pressing his cheek into her hair. “And besides, I enjoy every moment with you.”

“Muuu,” she mumbled, ducking her head. Her ears were tipped pink. “I-I enjoy every moment with you too, even if I have no clue how I’m supposed to act around such a cheesy guy like you, Obi.” 

Awww. 

“Like I said earlier,” Obito turned her around to properly smile. “Just stick around and love me!”

Tomo-chan’s cheeks flushed from pink to a light red. “Mou.” Her arms still wrapped around his waist as she came closer to rest her cheek against his shoulder. “Dork.”

“I’m your dork, Tomo-chan. No one else’s.” He hugged her back tight, tempted to kiss her again if not for one thing.

That same book from earlier was still on the table next to Tomo-chan’s notes. He would have been tempted to pick it up, but his girlfriend was still here in his arms being cute, so he would just have to settle for asking instead. “Tomo-chan?” 

“Mm?”

“That book you were reading. You didn’t say what it was about. Can I ask?”

“Ah, that.” Tomo-chan raised her head from his shoulder, glancing at it before coming back for an extra cuddle. “It’s a book Sakumo-jichan recommended me, so I’ve been reading it while you were out on your mission.”

“Hm,” Obito mused, feeling a bit weird. Then again, books were Kei and Kakashi’s thing — he didn’t expect Tomo-chan to pick it up. Buuuut Kei and Tomo-chan were sisters in all but name, so it wasn’t as surprising as it could’ve been. Tomo-chan still hugged Kei hard whenever Kei came back to the village. “What’s it about?”

The arms around his waist tensed. It wasn’t enough to strike alarm bells, but it was something Obito noticed as Tomo-chan rested her nose in his neck, almost like she was hiding. “It’s… kinda a reminder, I guess. The story is about two girls finding love in each other after one escaped her abusive ex-boyfriend.”

Obito blinked. “That’s… pretty dramatic.”

“It is.” A soft, almost dry giggle brushed his neck as Tomo-chan snuggled him, closing her eyes from what he could see in the corner of his vision. “Thing is, I think Sakumo-jichan recommended it to me because of the abusive ex.” She exhaled slowly, shaking her head enough to tickle Obito’s cheek with her hair. “The ex reminded me a lot of… of, well, Ty. It’s been years.”

Obito tensed immediately. He hadn’t heard that name from Tomo-chan’s lips in years either. “He…he didn’t come back to harass you, did he?” It was hard to keep his voice level, but he still hugged her tight in the hopes of comfort. 

Anyone who hurt Tomo-chan deserved to be hurt in return. Anyone. Especially Tai. Tai, Ty, whatever. Obito didn’t want to remember his name because he was a friend that failed Tomo-chan in the end. He was pure scum. He left someone scarred. If he did come back— 

“No, Obi, he didn’t,” Tomo-chan said quietly, patting Obito’s back before slowly pulling away from the hug. “I’m okay, Obi.” She raised her head to smile at him, but Obito couldn’t help but make a face. In response, Tomo-chan raised a finger to his lips. “Before you say anything, just let me finish, please?” 

Obito sighed. He just couldn’t refuse those blue eyes of hers. “Sure.”

“Thankie,” Tomo-chan replied in the same soft tone, pulling back while resting her hands on Obito’s shoulders. “The thing is,” she lowered her head, pressing her forehead against Obito’s chest, “the book reminded me of how I went about my life after Ty all wrong. Because the girl that escaped, she kept thinking that the right way of going about things was sacrificing herself. Isolating herself from others because she was ‘toxic,’ and…” Tomo-chan sighed. “At one point, I thought it was okay that I overworked myself, because at least it meant others not doing the same thing. Working myself to death could’ve meant my loved ones relaxing and being okay. That everything would be okay.” 

Neither had to speak up on the unsaid, especially if I went away. Obito didn’t want to think on that. It was just a future he couldn’t imagine — a future he didn’t want to imagine.

Still, Tomo-chan proceeded to gently hit her head against his chest, sighing fondly. “But these days, I find myself thinking, ‘That’s not good.’ Love is not one-sided. It’s about respecting each other and finding happiness together, not just sacrificing to receive nothing in return. And, as much as I loved Ty, I don’t think he felt the same. He just saw me as a little girl to remake in his image.” Tomo-chan shivered, taking a deep breath. “Not anymore. I don’t want to overwork myself to death anymore because I know everyone would worry. Team Minato would worry. You and Kei taught me all that. The two girls finding love with each other in the story just made the final nail in Ty’s old coffin.” 

Oh. Obito gently pulled back and reached over to grip Tomo-chan’s chin, tilting her head up to make eye contact. “…You mean that?”

Tomo-chan smiled, raising a hand to gently pat his cheek. “You’ve been the best thing to me since Kei, Obi. And Ty wouldn’t stand a chance in front of the future Hokage now.” Her thumb rubbed at the edges of his eyes and it took a moment for Obito to realize there was dust somewhere. His vision was blurring. “I-I’m just sorry for being weird and clumsy sometimes when it comes to, well, being in a relationship. I just really appreciate you, so…”  Her cheeks colored that same rosy pink as her gaze softened. “I love you a lot, okay?” 

If the spiel from earlier didn’t start the waterworks, it was very tempting to release the dam now. 

Obito held back a sniffle to instead pull his angel of a girlfriend into a tighter hug, nodding. “I-I love you too, Tomo-chan. I love you too.”

“Aye.” Tomo-chan giggled into his flak jacket. “I’m not going anywhere now. So, in exchange for hearing me be philosophical, let’s cuddle for a bit?” 

“S-Sure,” Obito laughed, finally feeling the ugly feelings go away. “Whatever you want.” 

It was another good day back home in Konoha.

[haikyuu-philia]

Can I request a scenario for Kuroo’s s/o being harassed by some shady guys, like they’re hitting on her, trying to pull her with them etc. But then the Nekoma team comes by and the whole team goes in protective-mode (minus Kuroo who arrives at the scene a bit later).

(I will mend the layout of this text for the app asap! It is a mess right now, sorry.)

I LOVE YOU FOR MAKING THAT REQUEST, ANON! Honestly, I was looking forward to writing this since I’ve received it because I love Nekoma’s dynamic as a team so freaking much (*o*) Thanks to this I’ve escalated in terms of length. Again.  Anyways, have fun and enjoy reading it :D

-----

Cheeky Cats | Kuroo x Reader

(1444 words)

-----

Even after all those times, words couldn’t describe how much you loved seeing the sunset, that would color the clouds dark red. Just like Nekoma’s team jackets. So you didn’t mind waiting for your boyfriend to finish volleyball practice at the school gate.

Normally he would pick you up from your club activities, but those were cancelled for today due to responsible the teacher being absent. After going for a short walk and having a little snack at a nearby café you had returned to school. Every now and then other students would pass by to leave; a few would nod at you or whisper a greeting, others would just let it be. But some time ago - you couldn’t really tell how long it had been - those three guys had started to talk to you. 

Beginning with smalltalk they moved on to more specific topics quite fast. They complimented your beautiful lips, gorgeous eyes and stunning curves up to a point, where you were on the edge of punching them in the face. 

Instead you tried to get rid off them with many methods, while having the most innocent smile on your face. You even faked a call from your parents to make them get bored, but nothing seemed to work. All of them somehow managed to capture you between them and one of the walls surrounding the school.

„Come on, honey. Don’t you at least want to tell us, who you are waiting for so desperately?“, one of them said while leaning closer to you. 

Finally you felt like your chance to escape that extremely uncomfortable situation of yours had come: „I’m waiting for my boyfriend.“ 

If one thing drove you crazy about this, then it would be that you could never tell who would speak up next. It was the left boy’s turn.

„He doesn’t seem to love you a lot. Letting you wait for so long out here. Alone. In the upcoming dark.“ They didn’t care about your relationship status at all. Well, something about this made you feel like you had just been threatened. 

To be more precisely, you had never begged for the end of volleyball practice that much. Whatever had caused you to end up in this struggle, you simply wanted Kuroo to appear around the corner and pull you into a warm hug. Nothing could hurt you in those arms.

The longer the silence was, the more you realised that you really were running out of excuses to leave. Or lies to tell. You didn’t want to make a fuss about it, but even screaming in combination with crying seemed to be an option now.

„(Y/N)-CHAAAAAAAAAN!“

Honestly you hadn’t been that relieved to hear Lev’s voice ever before. After getting to know him, you soon had discovered that he was an innocent puppy, that tried to act like a cat. Still, thanks to his height he appeared pretty intimidating to others.

The grey-haired giant pushed the trio away like it was nothing and hugged you with his long arms. It might not have been the hug you were looking for, on the other hand it did its magic as well. Swinging you around a little, the three boys were ignored by him completely. 

„Don’t tell me that this beanstalk is your boyfriend, (Y/N)-chan“, they found back their voices. You could only roll our eyes as they started to use this nickname of yours without asking.

Feeling way stronger than before, you shot them a smile, before answering their question: „He is not.“

From the distance you could hear more footsteps approaching and the unknown students in front of you exchanged insecure glances with each other. They stiffened a little, after a loud voice could be heard behind their backs, scaring them quite a bit.

„God dammit, Lev! I told you not to just run into it without thinking.“ 

Someone must have decided to end your suffering immediately, since you could identify the speaker as Yaku. No one else would say such things in such a tone. The three boys turned around to reveal not only the third year standing there. Kenma and Yamamoto followed him suit, only Kuroo was nowhere to be seen.

Obviously nervous, as they were the ones to be surrounded now, they tried to cover any insecurities with giggles: „He can’t be your boyfriend, right? The midget, I mean.“

The first reaction to be heard happened to be a quiet „Idiot.“ coming from Kenma, before Yaku let loose one of his kicks, aiming for the guys’ bags that were laying on the ground. They flew approximately 20 meters wide. New record, in your opinion. 

„You aren’t messing around with our precious (Y/N), are you?“, Yamamoto stepped in as soon as you had denied the rumours about your relationship with the shortest boy. Presenting his famous I-am-such-a-bad-guy-face it was the trio’s turn to feel threatened this time. 

Lev next to you, Yaku standing to their left and Yamamoto to their right, you noticed that the page had turned. You could really smile again: „To answer your upcoming question. He isn’t my boyfriend, either.“

„Trust us, you don’t want to make her boyfriend mad“, Lev continued with a facial expression filled with fear. Maybe he was thinking about all the exercises your beloved Tetsu made him do regularly. „The name’s Kuroo Tetsurou. With his pinky he could kill everyone of you.“

In unison their eyes widened after getting to know your boyfriend’s name. You were pretty sure that they had heard of him, since they were students at Nekoma after all. Literally trembling they ran to their bags, not turning around again before they fled and screamed: „What kind of freak show is this?!“ 

Your group watched them disappearing behind a building and you were certain that they would never ever bother you again. Anyways, looking into your saviours’ eyes made you realise what awesome friends you had. „Are you okay, (Y/N)-san?“, Yaku finally asked to come back to the topic. You nodded. 

Interrupting your reply, Yamamoto hugged you worriedly: „If Kenma hadn’t told us, you might have gotten into even bigger trouble!“

The mentioned setter had tried to sneak away as soon as his name had been called. Lev explained in a rush that Kenma had seen you being surrounded by those idiots and informed the whole team about it. 

„Thank you, Kenma. And thanks to all of you. You can’t tell how happy I am that you came to my rescue!“ 

During a group hug, that Kenma was forced into as well, to calm down after that nightmare-ish scenario, you were reminded of someone very important being absent. 

„I don’t want to sound rude, but where the heck is Kuroo?“ In the end the three boys had had an extreme luck since your boyfriend had been called to the coach after practice. Otherwise they might really have died, at least mentally. 

To protect each and everyone from possible harm, you all promised not to tell a word about what had happened earlier. Specifically not to Kuroo.

To avoid any risks, the boys decided to stay by your side until Kuroo would arrive as well and most likely take you home. Dealing with these scumbags definitely had been enough excitement for a day. 

It took him only a few minutes to arrive with his signature grin on his face after seeing you.

Yaku had to send a warning glare at Lev, who seemed to be about to tell his captain literally everything they had vowed not to loose a word about. 

Yamamoto was distracting his upperclassman in the meantime and Kenma just played along as silent as ever. 

The peace took a turn the moment Kuroo started to talk about a confusing encounter he had had outside the gym: „You know, I’ve met three weirdos a minute ago. They nearly bumped into me and directly froze. I think they screamed something like Oh my god, it’s Kuroo Tetsurou. Run for your lives!“

Everyone except for your boyfriend felt the same urge to change the topic and was maybe making up some theories to explain their behaviour without mentioning the incident. 

Meanwhile Kuroo swung his arm around your shoulder without speaking about it again. 

He sighed as soon as you two were alone.

„Am I really that intimidating?“ You could practically feel the weight being lifted from your shoulders, even though he had placed his limb on it. 

Absolutely relieved about it - about everything that had happened after Lev’s appearance - you tiredly leaned your head against his upper arm.

„Maybe. But you are perfect, just the way you are, Tetsu.“

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z 200

So we’re finally in the last leg of DBZ.   The previous episode offered a glimpse of it, but Episode 200 is where we get to see the whole thing.   Starting with this episode, the OP was changed to "We Gotta Power”, complete with a new animation focusing on Gohan as an 18-year-old high school student.    The implication was that Gohan was taking over the role of the main character due to Goku’s absence, but that idea didn’t last very long, if that was ever really the idea at all.   

For the next dozen or so episodes, though, Gohan is definitely the protagonist.   Seven years after the Cell Games, he’s enrolled in a brick-and-mortar school.   This is never fully explained beyond Chi-Chi’s belief that his home schooling curriculum was no longer enough.    What changed?   Did Chi-Chi want him to socialize more?  Or were there no correspondence courses left for him to tackle?   

The reason I bring this up is because there was a very good reason for home-schooling Gohan: the nearest classroom is hundreds of miles away in Orange City.    It’s a quick commute for Gohan on his father’s Kinto’un, but it’s still a long way to go for a diploma that Gohan’s only a few months away from earning anyway.  

Oh, and it’s not Orange City anymore.    This is it’s first appearance, but this is Mr. Satan’s hometown, and in honor of his glorious victory over Cell, the citizens renamed the place “Satan City.”

You’d think a town famous for being the home of a world-saving hero would be light on crime, but actually no.    Satan City is riddled with crooks.   Pretty brazen ones too.    I can’t tell if the crooks in this arc are just nuttier than usual, or if this standard Dragon Ball hyperbole.  

Gohan’s been here a couple times before to set up his enrollment in the school, and he’s run into criminals every time he’s been here.    It’s to the point where he’s more annoyed than disturbed.  

So he foils these guys’ bank robbery, but to avoid unwanted attention, he turns into a Super Saiyan first, figuring the transformation will disguise him.   He does the cool spot where he catches and crushes all the bullets they shoot at him...

Then he wrecks their getaway car with a ki wave.  Once they’re down, he changes back to normal and acts like another innocent bystander.   Then this girl shows up and demands to know who did all of this.

One guy in the crowd recognizes her as Videl, and he tells her that the guy who stopped the crooks was wearing an Orange Star badge, signifying that he’s a student at Orange Star High School...

...Just like Videl.

Speaking of school, it’s almost time for it to start, to Videl goes to class and starts asking around about the “Golden Warrior”, which is the unofficial name Gohan has earned for his vigilante activities.   

On the left we have Sharpner, who’s some sort of jock, and he’s got blonde hair, so Videl figures he’s as likely a suspect as she’s going to find.    But Sharpner’s too busy training for sports to do any crimefighting.   On the right is Erasa, who’s also blonde, but Videl never bothers asking her.   

Then Gohan shows up, and the teacher introduces him to the class.     People can say that Gohan didn’t do anything during the seven year gap, but this teacher knows what’s up.   Perfect scores on several subjects.    Gohan was plenty busy all those years.   

Erasa invites Gohan to sit with her because she finds him cute.   She also informs Gohan that Videl is the daughter of Mr. Satan.    Videl recognizes Gohan as the kid she saw at the bank robbery, but doesn’t connect him to the Golden Warrior.... yet.    Erasa tells Gohan about the Golden Warrior, and he realizes that his disguise has backfired.    Too many people have seen him fighting crime here, and if he’s not careful someone will figure out that it’s him.

What threw me off watching this in Japanese was when this teacher started speaking.    In the dub, she has a thick German accent, and it’s an English class, but it’s an English class for English speakers, so she’s talking about prepositions or some crap like that.    In Japanese, she’s teaching a foreign language course, so she reads English out of a book.    So for a hot minute this lady speaks English, and she sounds really fluent, which really took me out of the story for a second.   

But the gag here is that these kids are all having a side conversation during the lesson.    Videl’s friends are satisfied that Gohan’s not blonde enough to be the Golden Warrior, but Videl isn’t so sure, since his outfit matches the description, and she’s heard of fighters who could change their hair color, because her father encountered Super Saiyans at the Cell Games.    But her dad dismissed this as a trick, so she’s not sure what to make of it.  

So the point of all of this is that Gohan is trying to make a life for himself in peacetime, and he’s convinced that he can’t reveal his true strength around anyone, which is why he doesn’t want anyone to connect him with this Golden Warrior business.    But he’s too clueless to avoid slipping up in other ways, like when Erasa asks him where he lives, and he tells her he’s from a village hundreds of miles away. 

This English lesson also serves as a way to reintroduce Mr. Satan to the story, since the textbooks feature him.   Gohan reads aloud how Mr. Satan won the 24th Tenkaichi Budokai, and I think this is the first mention of this.   Prior to this episode, Mr. Satan was said to be a combat sports champion, but it was never specified just what competition he had won to earn the title.   Also, everyone kept acting like the 23rd Budokai was the last one.   I suppose it’s possible that the 24th tournament could have been held after the Cell Games, but I think it’s commonly accepted that it happened before the Cell Sagas, and Mr. Satan’s world championship accolade was in reference to that victory.  

Anyway, here’s the champ sneezing in his dojo.    See, there’s this superstition in Japan where if you sneeze, someone must be talking about you somewhere, so whenever Mr. Satan sneezes, he observes that this must be true, because he’s so famous.  

Never mind that shit!   Here comes Freddie Mercury!    I’m pretty sure this was unintentional but you never know.   I don’t much care because HOLY SHIT THIS GUY LOOKS JUST LIKE FREDDIE MERCURY AND IT’S AWESOME.  

What makes this so great is how there’s absolutely no self-awareness to it.   The dub of Dragon Ball Kai seemed to play with the idea a little, but there’s only so much you can do, since this character is a no-nonsense gym coach making these kids play baseball.    And that’s perfect, honestly.    If there were a bunch of Queen references worked into this scene to beat you over the head with it, it would be dumb, but as it is there’s really no way to tell if this is a coindidence.   

During the game, Gohan resolves to hold back his true strength, since Chi-Chi and Bulma warned him that it might cause trouble if people knew the truth.    That’s kind of sad, actually.    It’s not until we get to this episode that we realize that Gohan hasn’t had much of a normal life.   To him, fighting super-battles is pretty typical, and he really doesn’t know how to even pretend to be a regular guy, no matter how badly he wants to fit in.  

But it’s also kind of sad because he is half-Saiyan, and while he was raised as an Earthling, he really doesn’t have a way to express that aspect of himself.   This is where Goku’s absence is most sorely felt.    Yeah, Gohan can manage without him, and he can get through school somehow, but you’d figure it’d be nice if he could go home and his orange space dad could tousle his hair and then they’d horse around in the woods until dinnertime.

Anyway, Gohan’s so determined to keep his strength a secret, but when he goes to catch a fly ball, he ends up floating in midair while he decides what to do with it.

Then he throws to the catcher, and he’s so thrilled that he didn’t kill the guy that he doesn’t realize that he jumped like fifteen feet in the air a minute ago.

Also, Gohan knows nothing of baseball, but that’s fine in my book.   Baseball is the fucking worst.   He stands on the opposite side of the plate from the way he’s going to swing, but Coach Mercury doesn’t mind.    Gohan can swing any way he likes in this class.

But Gohan’s plan is not to swing at all, since he’s concerned that he’ll hit the ball too hard and expose his secrets.    But Sharpner throws a fastball at his head, thinking it’ll give Gohan a scare.     Trouble is, Gohan doesn’t even try to dodge it, probably because he doesn’t see it as a threat.    So he gets hit in the damn face with a baseball and just no-sells it.  

But Gohan’s thrilled because this means he can go to first base without having to hit the ball.   So thrilled that he doesn’t notice how shocked everyone is.   

EVEN FREDDIE MERCURY IS AFRAID

Videl wonders what all of this could mean.    How could someone so goofy be so handsome... I mean strong.   Strong.    Yeah, that’stheticket.

After gym, everyone wants a piece of the Gohan pie.    Sharpner invites him to join the boxing club, since he’s stronger than he looks.   I was setting up a “Sharpner’s also thirsty for Gohan joke” just now, but now that I think about it, maybe that’s not such a silly idea after all.    I do know that Erasa’s into him, since she asks him to give her a ride home, but Gohan explains that his “car” only has room for one.  

But Videl follows him after school, and she only ever sees him on foot.    How very dreamy--suspicious!    Get ahold of yourself, Videl!

But Gohan notices her stalking him and he gives her the slip by jumping on top of a building at super speed.   “Gosh,” Gohan says, “I never realized so many people wanted to rock my bod.”

Then he flies home on the Nimbus, and to be honest I just included this screencap because I love the color scheme.