#honest to gods can Not tell how well I did in the written tests. like I finished all of them with at least ten minutes to spare

[b4kuch1n]

good luck w the testing and a happy early new year!!

thank you it's already happened when this was sent but we all did get one free point for the listening section bc the audio fucked up and we didn't get to hear the part with the last question's answer. but I will now think this is luck borrowed from the future when this ask was sent

[greyspirehollow]

Bound. For... Science. [Request]

Pairing : Quaestor Valdemar x gn! reader

Fandom : The Arcana visual novel

Warnings : brief depiction of scientific stuff ; fluff

Summary : Could you have imagined that the scary and mysterious Quaestor Valdemar would become the person you see on a daily basis? Probably not. You even have a surprise for them...

They didn't pay much attention to you at first. Nor did you pay much attention to them. If you were honest with yourself, you probably couldn't have seen it coming. Once they started looking into your general direction however, you couldn't be any more nervous. You can't exactly remember how or when it started, but they had crept up on you so many times that you couldn't keep count anymore. Good thing your heart wasn't too jumpy (to their greatest disappointment).

You were minding your own business in the library, devouring a tome written by probably your favorite scientist : the genius who is Wilfried Magnes, an eminent biologist who had just published the third part of his theory on the evolution of species, this volume being dedicated to camouflages. You were so absorbed by the author's words that Valdemar had to clear their throat to get your attention. Your head whipped around at the sound, and you let out a relieved sigh. You were about to speak but they interrupted you : "Come. I would like to show you something..." and with that, they tugged three books out of the library's bookshelf, opening a secret passage. Your eyes widened as they grinned. Oh they were going to have fun scaring the sweet heavens out of you. You reluctantly closed your book, tucked it under your arm and went down with them.

You'd half expected the elevator to just give up and drive you both down to your respective deaths, but it seemed to be holding itself together. And that is the days you reached Valdemar's dungeons. They looked... Undeniably giddy. It was fun to scare mortals after all. And well... You didn't feel... the best. You hesitantly followed them, the strong smell of blood and iron hitting your nostrils, making your nose scrunch and a discreet cough escape you. And they seemed unfazed, inhaling the dungeon's scent blissfully. The more steps you took forward, the less you were sure you'd come out of this alive. You two then reached the main hall, operation tables lined across the walls and seemingly frozen in time since the last time they were used. Your eyebrows knitted in worry, your gaze falling onto Valdemar who had a wide, sharp-toothy grin on full display. "This-" they gestured around "-is *my* haven. The heart of all my works, where lies the remains of the most unspeakable procedures one can think of. Feast your eyes, maybe this is, who knows... the last thing you'll see~" your heart thumped violently against your ribs, and your eyes couldn't look away from- oh, what was that?

Your gaze landed on something behind them, in the faint distance : a shelf, upon which rested various things, but it is the white spot that caught your attention. You gasped, and it is as if all your fears... vanished. Wiped out in a snap of fingers. You excitedly walked over to the shelf, put your book aside, and took the human skull in your hands. "Gods, that's a beautiful specimen!" you exclaimed "how did you manage to extract it- i-it's in perfect condition ! what did you use to clean it? no don't tell me- let me guess- uh hydrogen peroxide* ? or did you clean it by hand?? Who- no wait ; I think it's... it's definitely a man's, and I'd say in their... in their 40's? something? did you-" you interrupted yourself with another gasp as you spotted the wet specimen of a heart sitting on the shelf. You carefully put the skull down "wait wait wait- you do not have a heart contaminated by a dark magical parasite- you do !!! How did you even get your hands on that ?? How did you remove it without getting- no way, you have- NO, stop it-" then your hands reached for a small closed test tube "you do not have a sample of a necromancer's magical decay !!! Where the hell do you even go to get that ?!" you gasped and picked up and examined specimen after specimen, object after object, rambling aloud. Valdemar could only watch with utter confusion as you rummaged excitedly through the shelf, all giddy. But soon, they grinned ; they seemed genuinely excited at the idea of explaining each and every single procedure they went through for each item, and so they went to stand by your side as they started rambling themselves. Your excitement was contagious - mainly because they didn't exactly have anyone else to share their passion with. And so when they started to go on about every recent experiment they'd done you clasped your hands together, looked them in the eyes, and said, determined : "teach me."

And that's when you became Quaestor Valdemar's apprentice. You two would spend most of your time in the dungeons, and at times you would giggle excitedly when performing a dissection with them, or when you found something exciting. Ah, science. Wonderful science. The word got around eventually, when people saw you practically live at the Palace and with your very own labcoat, gloves and apron. Countess Nadia eventually gave you one of the guest rooms to reside in, and that's basically when your new life began. At times, you would conduct experiments of your own in your basement. You did it before you'd met Valdemar, but now that you had a person to show your work to, one can say you'd become productive. You had obviously endlessly rambled about Magnes' theories of evolution to them, and they happily reflected upon it with you. The Quaestor had even brought up a few names they knew, and well, despite being somewhat outdated (and for some proven wrong and so put a little on the side in scientific history), and when I mean outdated I do mean dating at least a millenia back, you had heard of or read about some. Sometimes you would pester them with tons of questions about the scientific breakthroughs and theories of their own epoch, and they did reluctantly reply to some of them, despite your unquenchable thirst for every piece of knowledge you could get your hands on (the mind of a great scientist).

You loved the time you spent with them. But there was one thing you were particularly excited about... You hadn't told them yet. You'd simply mentioned how it would be nice to go for a simple walk in the streets of Vesuvia, enjoy the sunlight and the fresh air -because as much as you liked the dungeons and your basement, you didn't exactly appreciate the smell down there, unlike them- and to your surprise, they'd agreed. You'd reserved your places in advance, thankfully, because you knew that despite being relatively niche still, it was nonetheless booked by all the other scientists of the city. And of neighboring cities. And countries. Now that you thought about it- the scientific field was a rather closed circle, but people really came from everywhere. Anyways. As D-day approached, you couldn't help but feel both excited and anxious. Valdemar seemed to have noticed : you were talking a lot faster than usual, and your movements were a bit less organized than they usually were. You'd always dismissed it, saying it was only 'seasonal'. Not sure how you could prove that to them, but they didn't question you further. When the day finally came, you were absolutely restless. You laid there in your bed, it was probably... 3 AM. And you were successively falling asleep and waking up by periods of thirty minutes. Gods, this was torture... You tried tiring your eyes by reading Magnes, and... It worked, actually. You sighed as you finally managed to sleep through a few more hours before sunrise.

But once you did wake up for good... Oh you were worse than a grasshoper. You couldn't even focus on the experiment with Valdemar- you couldn't even stay sitting for more than two seconds. When the clock struck noon, you agitated even more, insisting that you and them go on that walk in Vesuvia NOW. They initially resisted, but their patience ran thinner and thinner with your insistence. "fine, FINE ! We'll go on that stupid walk!" they said, irritated. If you were honest with yourself, you would've dragged them by the horns if they'd continued to refuse. They sighed, annoyed, as you gripped their arm and pulled them out of the dungeon. Valdemar knew something was up. No human -especially not you- was so excited about a walk in the streets. You were definitely up to something, and they didn't like the fact that they didn't know what it was. But your (nearly feral) eagerness did ease a bit of their concern : it was entertaining to see you so jumpy. You'd not talked about anything scientific on the way to your... surprise. You were afraid that you might accidentally spill the beans. And you wanted it to remain the most surprise it could be. You both walked the busy streets of Vesuvia, the sun hitting your labcoats, reminding you that they were actually a clear color, nearly white, making you squint your eyes every time you glanced at Valdemar. Now that they thought about it... They weren't exactly used to the outdoors. They haven't been recently, anyway. It was nice to feel the warm sun on the skin of their face again... They allowed themselves a small smile behind their mask.

After what felt like endless turns, you smiled with undeniable joy as you both reached your destination. You walked a few steps ahead of them and cheerfully announced : "Tadaaa ! Welcome to the Third Edition of Vesuvia's annual Scientific Exhibition !!", with a wide and toothy smile. Valdemar's eyes widened slightly. They'd never heard of this event before... They looked at the building which hosted it, and the crowd of what were definitely scientists -or at least curious souls- lined up at the entrance, the sun hitting the bright red of the laid out carpet and the banners on the walls, embroided with the event's symbol. You excitedly waited for their reaction. They smiled and looked back at you "ooh, so that's what you were all jumpy about..." you chuckled, slightly embarrassed "I really wanted it to be a surprise..." you said sheepishly. They hummed : "well, that is definitely a pleasant surprise... Shall we go in?" You nodded eagerly as you went to wait in line with them. They struck conversation as you both waited :

"What does... what happens there, if I may ask?

-Well, it is an event that allows scientists of all backgrounds to come and show off either their discoveries or their handiwork. There are also often books and manuals being sold, as well as materials and products -ouh, I could definitely use a few brand new scalpels- but there can also be specimens. Last year I've seen reconstruction of animal skeletons, things like that.

-My, that is most interesting... *they replied, their eyes sparkling with interest* I do hope this will be a fruitful experience.

-Oh, it most definitely will!

-How come I have not been informed of such event? You said it was annual?

-Well, it's still very niche, and not many people outside the scientific field know about it.

-But the Countess must've known, no? Third edition- meaning this is the third year they're doing this. Ooh, or maybe it was put on hold during the years of the Plague... Meaning it was Lucio who-... Hm. He most definitely wouldn't have told me. He must've said yes for the event to be hosted without even giving it proper attention. Tsk.

*you chuckled*

-Well, now we're here, and I'm pretty sure the Countess will give the exhibition a bit more care and attention from now on..."

You both arrived at the reception, and the man behind the desk looked up to both of you "Ah, greetings, Misters.. Misses...?"

"Doctor." you both replied at the same time, on a nearly identical tone. The receptionist raised an eyebrow and blinked, before reading over his list "hm.. Ah yes ! I do have two Doctors : Dr. Y/N and Dr. Valdemar?" you beamed "that is us!" the receptionist nodded and handed you a quill "I'm just going to need you both yo sign here..." and you both did. The man bid you a good visit and you both walked into the building, excited to see what would the exhibition hold for your curious eyes. Valdemar had noticed the little paper at the entrance, and decided to tease you about it : "You didn't take the couple's discount?" you briefly froze in your tracks and stammered "wh- uhm I didnt- I ju- uh... Should I have?" They laughed "No, I just thought maybe you could've spared a little bit of money... Those places were expensive, no?" your cheeks reddened and you frowned "don't worry about that- Let us enjoy science!!" They nodded and followed you through the building.

And the event did NOT disappoint. You went from person to person, lingering on some more interesting than others. you bought supplies, both for the dungeons and for your own little experiments at home, and you and Valdemar spent a copious amount of time with a surgeon, Dr. Milestone, who had successfully extracted a whole human nervous system, which was on full display under a glass protection for you to admire. Both of you swarmed him with questions, undoubtedly interested. Maybe you had even... Intimidated him somewhat. If it weren't for the exhibition's most interesting part, you would probably have spent a lot more time with him. You both walked into a separate room, which was basically a small amphitheater, and when you sat down, an auction began. There were various specimens -live or dead- being sold, but you hadn't managed to get your hands on any, despite the juicy offer of an amnesic brain and two hundred coins for a complete collection of the tools of the late scientist Oscar McArthy, a reference in the world of science... But that was a very little loss compared to the amazing afternoon you spent with Quaestor Valdemar. And they seemed to be thinking the same thing. However, around 5PM, you'd lost them in the crowd. Unable to catch a glimpse of them, you went and waited by the entrance, thinking it would be the most logical thing to do. They appeared again around half an hour later, and before you could scold them, they apologized, and you weren't so upset anymore.

Eventually, you both returned to the Palace around the evening. You didn't head straight for the dungeons however... Your legs felt weak and all the excitement, all the attention and focus you gave the exhibition had drained you. You let yourself slump down onto the couch of one of the drawing rooms with a groan, already feeling your eyelids begin to weight and threaten to close. Valdemar only chuckled at the sight "Can I at least sit down, too?" you briefly sat up "oh- yes, sure.. sorry" and made room for them. But as soon as they sat down, they grabbed a pillow, placed it on their lap and patted it gently. Your eyes widened at the invitation, and before you could wonder why they'd even done that, they said : "it's the least I can do for such a wonderful afternoon.". You didn't need to be told twice. Your head slumped down on the pillow on their lap and your eyes closed with a comfortable sigh.

It's not before they were sure that you were knocked out asleep that they started gently running their fingers through your hair...

*nota bene : I am in no way a scientist, so I may give inaccurate depictions of certain elements in the story.

Bonus !!______________________________

The following day, around breakfast, Valdemar came up to you : "I didn't have time to give you that yesterday - you were pretty tired." they handed you your copy of Magnes' theory on camouflage and you raised an eyebrow "what do you mean? I hadn't lost it..." you opened it and your eyes nearly popped out of your sockets- there, on the first page, was a handwritten dedication :

"Y/N, may your thirst for science and knowledge never quench"

-W. Magnes

"you.... when did you ...?" your voice squeaked as you stood up from your seat. Valdemar only smiled smugly. "He was surrounded by quite the crowd... We didn't even notice him, near the auction room. But I did manage to capture his attention briefly." You didn't even question how they'd gotten the book -since you were pretty sure you'd left it at the Palace- or the fact you missed the chance to see your favorite scientist, you were nearly crying, this was just so sweet of them to do-

You nearly knocked them off their feet with the force of your hug "oooowhhh, Valdemar !!" you squeaked out "there there, it's nothing." they said, patting your back, seemingly amused "I could kiss you-" you said. "ah- maybe not for such a futile favor?" the replied, a little embarrassed. You didn't care, but if they didn't want to be kissed, you wouldn't kiss. But you wouldn't let go of them either.

"Y/N, will you let me go now, it's roughly been three hours-"

[not-so-lost-after-all]

You're right that it's also Larian's fault (through marketing but also some of the writing) that's been causing "fans" to believe that Astarion is truly some sex obsessed horny vampire who would be up for any kink or fantasy or infidelity they and their self-insert Tavs may have. Most people don't check datamined lines and fandom spaces, they didn't know his lack of reaction to Mizora was a bug, so why believe otherwise considering he had nothing against other horny fan service stuff the game offers? And there are quite a few people out there complaining about his new reaction all over social media, more than expected…You could literally fuck anything that moves and he was okay with it. You still can do that, mostly. For example someone said on the Larian forums this feels like moralizing the player, and it makes no sense for an immortal vampire who's had hundreds of lovers to be against Tav sleeping around lol.

Oh and by the way, you don't even have to run a deception or a persuasion check on him to forgive you for cheating on him. I tested it and every time he says something you have to say you're sorry and/or that it didn't mean anything and he will forgive Tav. So Larian STILL provided a lot of fanservice when they could've written Astarion the same way they wrote Gale, Lae'zel and the others who will automatically break up with Tav, with no option to gaslight and manipulate. But they didn't, I wonder why…

To be honest I don't even care much about this, it was added so late to the game that it doesn't matter anymore. In the long run, WOTC will still use Act 1 Astarion in any future content regardless. It's not even about AA vs Spawn anymore. They know this horny crap sells, most fans want it as well so why bother portray him as anything else other than your generic sexy carefree hedonistic vampire? Wanna bet the next cards will show Astarion in a brothel or perhaps riding a certain bear with some random Tav besides him? God knows what they have in store for him.

Hello, Nonnie. For the marketing, I agree. For the writing not so much. Even Neil and the animation team did a great job in showing his discomfort, despite of what he´s saying. It´s not their problems that many of his "fans" have no reading skills and don´t see that or just want to project whatever kinks they have on him because he´s fictional (that Larian should have seen coming). I have to laugh - how does a vampire who´s been used as a whore for two centuries wanting to have his newfound love on a pedestal not making any sense? :D Too bad for them Larian thought it´s important enough to add at least now and it won´t change anymore because they are only going to do maintance for the game from now on.

Yes, it´s easy to get him to forgive you because he lacks self esteem and very much wants to believe you. It´s so sad when the player gaslight him, really, the supposed love of his life. The only scene when he´s complete aware of his value is suprisingly when you offer the poly situation after completing his personal quest - he tells you in nicer words not to screw it up because he´ll be fine with or without you.

Now, the brothel I can´t justify but all romanced companions are just worried about you when you sleep with Haarlep and don´t comment on the Emperor.

I seriously wonder if we´re ever going to see such nuanced character in a game again when it´s easier to just throw tropes at the players. Sadly, I´ve talked about how the thirsthy WOTC cards are most probably his only future. But thank you for the mental picture of a huge bear with Astarion and Tav on his back having a laugh :D

[beevean]

So!

Those first 3 episodes

What can I say?

The plot was written

The backstories were told

The characters were characterized

The social issues were commentated on

The pacing was....paced

100/10, best show ever

On a more serious note I'm genuinely impressed that they managed to make these 3 episodes feel even more rushed to fuck than Season 1, which in its 4 episodes was able to at least establish each of the main characters and the main villain, their respective motivations and you know was mostly just a testing season made to see if there was public interest plus it was made using the scraps of a cancelled movie from 10 years earlier

This shit right here is awful. Genuinely awful, just the most stereotypically fanficy writing I can think of, the pacing goes by so quickly it feels like they're speedrunning the whole thing and there's no way to properly establish each character without it feeling like a 5 minute digression at best and then on with the fight scenes!

And the social commentary is as subtle as a jack hammer of course, i'm treally curious to see if they'll explain how a vampire elite can control society from the shadows so fully when they souldn't even be able to make public appearences during the day. Are you really telling me the citizen of France are so dense they never thought to set the royal palace ablaze during the morning?

Oh and then there's Maria

Called it about her

I have a honest-to-god headache.

Where do I begin?

Well... Richter is fine, so far, although he didn't do much. He's pretty laidback without being too vulgar. That's honestly how I'd imagine the real Richter to be. I wish they advertised those moments instead of showing him crying. I have to wonder, though, why did he use to be a prominent ice magic user of all things. Are they going to say that he inherited Juste's magic? (also where is the morning star?)

But then... big oof.

The pacing is shit. That was painful to go through. These three episodes were full of flashbacks and fight scenes: the latter to shoehorn tragic backstories instead of organically weaving them in the story, and the latter to pad out time, because they were just "oh there are monsters now! Go smash them!"

also I didn't see a single enemy from the games. We're back to S1's generic monsters. Nice.

Also, what's with those backstories? Richter has a Dead Mom, Annette has a Dead Mom + Slavery, Tera is Russian has a Dead Sister... really? That's the best you can do? It's so fucking cheap!

And the show really deadass killed Edouard, a nobody just introduced, in the second episode, and then expected me to feel bad about him because Annette, another nobody, misses him and cries with the most narmtastic voice acting so far. This is literally the same thing they did with Cho, except at least we weren't meant to feel sorry for her.

Maria is insufferable. She's the rudest and crassest of them all, can't talk about anything that isn't "liberty, equality, fraternity" and she's terrible to Richter - why is NFCV's idea of friendship insulting each other? We don't even know how they know each other! At least NFCV showed us how the gang was formed!

(Annette is too bland as of now, but justifying her metalbending with "she descends from gods" is... something)

Can we talk about that worldbuilding? There are still Devil Forgemasters? Who are they? Did Hector and/or Isaac have descendants (good god i do not want to imagine n!isaac impregnating a woman), or it's yet another person, diminishing the uniqueness of the art? And they're using machines to turn humans into Night Creatures? MACHINES??????? What the fuck is this, Sonic SatAM??????

(also bullshit that Night Creatures are only made, not born. Hector said, and I'm quoting from S2E3, "Before the war, night creatures were simply a species in hiding. They either reproduced naturally or were created by acts of wild magic." bro c'mon I'm not even a fan and I remember your worldbuilding, why can't you guys)

But also. Man they didn't even try to be subtle with these vampires. They are the entire French elite, they are the "white slave owners". Wow, deep commentary right there. And tell me, how can they go out in the open and show themselves to humans like that? How can they walk in the sunlight, like Drolta is seen to be doing? I know the original show had vampire lords like Carmilla and Cho, but they're really saying "yep, all the evil nobility is made of vampires" now, and everyone is aware of it.

And fucking Drolta. What the fuck are those shoes. They look like horse hooves. Isaac was neutered to keep her stupid hair and boobs, and also Olrox sitting on the-guy-who-looks-like-agent-stone-from-the-sonic-movies' chest. Okay. I'm normal about it.

and speaking of sonic references, edouard singing at the bird's funeral is peak NANANANANANANANANAAAAA energy.

Don't know what else to add. It was extremely boring and rushed and while we're not hitting the peak of offensiveness of the original show, this is still so, so bad from a writing standpoint.

And, as expected, the only thing that connects it to CV is that Richter has a whip. The story so far looks like a shitty period drama fusing the French Revolution and that good ol' american slavery story. They haven't learned a thing.

How in the hell are they going to butcher SoTN...?

[whatisreggieshortfor]

See Him As a Friend

Here’s a fluffy take on the lie detector test for @litgwritersroom’s prompt.

Bobby x MC

When Lucas read off the text about the lie detector, you could see how nervous the other Islanders got. You couldn’t understand why. This late in the show, they should trust who they’re with or they shouldn’t be with them. You figured it was that simple. Bobby was an open book to you.

Of course when you said as much to the other girls, Lottie had things to say. “Did you forget that he was called a player in the Mean Tweets challenge?”

“Did you forget you didn’t come out of that challenge looking too good either?” You argued, and there was beat of silence as Lottie clearly tried to come up with a retort.

But Marisol cut in, the only girl that never wavered from your side, “Let’s be honest for a minute though, Bobby has only ever had eyes on her. Even when I was in the friendship couple with him, it was obvious where his heart was. I think he was more worried about one of the other boys winning you over than anything else.”

“Same here.” Hope offered, though she clearly wasn’t sure if she really wanted to step in Lottie’s signature drama again, “I’ll always be thankful he saved me from getting dumped so Noah and I could be together, but I can’t see him having eyes for anyone else. In here or out there.”

Chelsea giggled to herself, clearly not sensing the tense air, “You guys should’ve seen his Beach Hut confessions! Literally every single one, no fail. Always Y/N. It was how I knew I’d get on with the two of them so well!” God, you loved your Bra.

You watched with the other Islanders as Gary was mercilessly torn apart by Lottie’s questions, and Bobby looked like he felt terrible just for needing to read them out. You asked Hannah questions for Lucas, and he went miles easier on her in comparison, which wasn’t much of a surprise since they’d only been together for a few days. Noah asked Gary’s questions for Lottie, and you could see the blonde girl feel remorse when his were easy. And it kept going, Lottie asking Jo the questions. Lucas asking Hope. Hannah asking Henrik. Ibrahim asking Chelsea. Henrik asking Ibrahim.

Until eventually, Gary was reading your questions to Bobby. “First question to make sure it’s still functioning like we haven’t been doing this for over a half hour, is your first name Robert?”

Bobby snorted, “Yup.”

Ding.

“Perfect. Okay. First question from Y/N- oh wait hold up this one has a note from Marisol written on the side, am I allowed to read that?” No one from the production team stopped him, so Gary shrugged, “It says ‘I bet you can guess who made her ask this question in under three seconds, and if you get it right I will finally try your hot chocolate.’”

You shared a conspiratorial smile with the law student beside you as Bobby laughed, “Now I’m very intrigued.”

Gary made a big show of clearing his throat, “In the Mean Tweets challenge,” You could already feel Lottie’s glare on you, “Would you consider the one about you being a player to be true?”

“Naw, no way. But nice question, Lottie.” Marisol laughed brazenly beside you as you snickered, waiting until the machine dinged it was the truth.

“Very nice, Bobble. It doesn’t say who the question came from, so I guess when you go out there they’ll tell you if you got it right. Next question, who else in the Villa did you feel a spark with?” Gary looked interested in the answer, but Bobby just grinned at him.

“Nobody.” Ding.

“Not a single girl caught your fancy?” Gary asked, mouth gaping like a fish.

Bobby shook his head, “Nope. Been Y/N for me since day one.”

“Class act, Bobs. Last question, and probably the easiest for you. Ready?”

“Fire away, Gareth.”

“What’s your favorite thing about Y/N?”

“Her butt.” Beeeeeeep.

Gary gasped, “That’s a lie, Bobby!”

“Okay, okay! But the real answer is cheesier.” The Scottish boy grinned, totally unbothered, “Definitely her laugh. Not only is it lovely, but it means my jokes are landing.” Ding.

As soon as he walked out, Bobby planted a big kiss on your cheek, “Had to go makin’ me sound like a melt, didn’t ya, lass?”

You giggled, pressing your lips to his briefly, “Act like you don’t melt for me all the time. Might as well be a popsicle in the sun.” He chuckled as he pulled you into a cuddle.

“So…” he tried to look nonchalant but his eyes were sparkling with mischief, “Did I get it right? Was it Lottie?”

“Yes.” You, Marisol, and Chelsea chirped in unison.

Bobby pumped his fist into the air, “Soon as this is over, I’m making that hot chocolate, Marisol!” You pouted but he just tickled you, “I’ll make you one, too, babe. I’ll always make you some.” You beamed, giggling when the other Islanders voiced their own requests for a cup.

Eventually it was your turn, and you followed Chelsea into the Hideaway. Once you were hooked up, she giggled, “It doesn’t actually give me a starter question. Should I do an obvious one? Like who your best girlfriend is in the Villa? Or a crazy one like were you born in a field?”

You snorted, “I’ll answer both. My best bra is you, Chels. Though Marisol is a close second. And I actually was not born in a field, but my mom has said I was almost born in a barn.” The machine dinged twice in rapid fire.

“Oh! Both true! Though now I wanna hear the barn story…”

“Later, babes.” You grinned, “I promise.” The machine dinged true again and Chelsea clapped her hands before grabbing the question cards.

“Alrighty, babes! Bobby’s first question is…do you genuinely think he’s funny?”

You didn’t even hesitate, “Of course. Funniest person I’ve ever met.” Ding. “His pranks could use some workshopping though.” You winked at the camera as the machine beeped angrily.

Chelsea gasped, hand flying up to her mouth, “You lied! You don’t think his pranks need work.”

You shrugged, still smiling, “Like I said, funniest person.”

“Okay, time for number two!” Chelsea beamed, she made you even more relaxed than you already were about answering these, “Do you still see Bobby as a friend?”

You pursed your lips, contemplating the question in its entirety, “Am I allowed to give an explanation to my answer?” A producer off to the side nodded to you. Back in the observation room, Bobby looked instantly panicked, even as Gary told him he had nothing to worry about. “Okay. Do I see Bobby as a friend? Yes.” Ding. “And I know Bobby, I know that answer is sending him spiraling down a rabbit hole, so Gary! You better make sure he’s paying attention!” Both of their heads snapped to the screen as you cleared your throat. You continued seriously, but your smile never left, “From day one, Bobby has made me feel comfortable. Literally. He was willing to sleep on the daybeds if I didn’t feel up to sharing the bed, and he always knows what to do when something goes wrong. He’s not just my best friend-“ Chelsea grunted, and you amended, “He’s not just my best male friend, he’s my person. When I need a laugh, he always has a joke ready. When I need to cry, he’s offering his shoulder. He’s there to relax, he’s there to goof around, he’s there for the drama, and he’s been there for every moment between them. So yeah, he’s my best friend. But he’s more than that, too.”

Chelsea leaned forward, watching the machine anxiously, and when the sound came out and the light came on, she was already shouting, “That was the truth! Aw, babes, that was beautiful. Keep it in mind for this last one. It’s the biggest.” Your eyes widened, what could be bigger than he’s biggest insecurity about being here? Chelsea held the card up, covering her face because she knew your answer would make her happy cry, “If Bobby told you he loved you, would you be able to say it back and mean it?”

“Absolutely.” Not even a second of time between the end of the question and your answer, and the responding ding reverberated through the air as Chelsea started fanning her eyes.

“Dammit babes! I knew I’d cry!”

Making your way out with Chelsea, you suddenly had the air knocked from your lungs as a body collided with yours, picking you up and sweeping you through the air. Once your feet were back on solid ground, you met Bobby’s teary eyes, “Lass,” his voice was breathy, almost filled with the laughter you loved so much, “Y/N, I-“

You slapped a hand over his mouth, shaking your head at his confusion, eyes darting around to the very visibly interested Islanders that weren’t even pretending to look away, “Not right now. Not in front of everyone. I want it to be a moment for us.”

His eyes somehow softened even more, and he slowly pulled your hand away, “Okay, lass. I’ll leave it up to you then.”

The next morning, the two of you were having an early breakfast while the other Islanders took a lie in. Just watching the sun rise, enjoying pastries Bobby took the extra care to make for everyone, his fingers on one hand drawing lazy circles on your thighs as you relaxed in the beanbags together with your legs thrown in his lap. “Hey, Bobble?”

He hummed, eyes peeking open to take a glance at you, watching the barely hidden excitement that was practically rolling off of you. “What’s up? You get a text or something?”

Shaking your head, you gave him a gentle smile, “I love you, Bobby.”

His face went blank, mouth falling open, before his lips stretched into his widest smile as he tugged you closer by the waist, punctuating each word with a kiss to your face, “I-“ your cheek, “love-“ your forehead, “you-“ your nose. “I love you, lass.” Finally your lips.

Masterlist

[beautiful-monsters-raging]

but use your freedom of choice

(while you still can) Title taken from the song Freedom of Choice by DEVOVision.

Leo has something to tell Usagi.

_____

Trigger warnings include vomiting, fears of rejection, brief mentions of dysphoria, discussion of abortion and abortion-related politics (although the last one you should already be prepared for on this blog).

This is a story from a larger collection that you can read on my AO3 (that series has its own tags, make sure to read them all)

"I'm pregnant."  

The words don't emerge so much as escape, slipping from Leo's mouth as he and Usagi wash dishes together. He wants to grab them from the air, take them back, but it's too late. A dish slips from Usagi's hands and crashes into the sink, pieces shattering everywhere.  

Leo had had a plan. A scheme, really, a cunning and clever scheme. He'd be subtle about it, carefully feel out Usagi's perspective on choice and free will and whatnot, test the waters. He'd do it all himself, this time, so his brothers wouldn't accidentally help him into a disaster like his coming out had been (would have been, but Usagi had been so understanding, and really there was no way Leo could be so lucky twice, but)  

Anyway. He'd planned to get Usagi alone after dinner, make out with him a little, that would help things, right? Or would Usagi feel manipulated? He should have looked up the role horniness played in these types of conversations; someone must have written something. He should have, should have, should have...  

The thing is, Leo's brain is on the whole a whirling mess by now, and he's not thinking nearly as clearly or carefully as he ought to. So, when Usagi comments about how Leo’s been moving a little stiffly recently, is everything all right, all those carefully planned excuses go straight to hell and what comes out is the absolute, damning truth.  

"You guys okay?" Mikey calls from the living room, where Leo's brothers are watching TV and pretending not to be staying nearby "just in case." Like Leo wouldn't be able to handle Usagi on his own if...if he....  

Maybe it's considering the possible consequences of his latest fuckup, maybe it's just the fact that his body has been hijacked by a goddamn parasite, but Leo's dashing to the trash can before he can think, falling to his knees and throwing up. Ice Cream Kitty sticks her head out of the freezer, giving him a sympathetic whine, and oh god, the fucking cat's going to hear whatever comes next, isn't she?  

"We're fine!" Usagi calls back, voice slightly strangled. He hurries over to Leo's side, dropping to his knees and rubbing his shell.  

"Breathe, Leonardo, it's all right." His voice is so fucking tender Leo wants to sob, so he does, spitting up tears and snot and vomit and ugh, he's so gross. But that doesn't faze Usagi, it never has, and he holds on to Leo until the puking stops.  

Leo slumps over the edge of the trash can, panting, staring directly down at his radically altered dinner. For a wild moment he thinks he's somehow managed to spit it up, pulled off a miracle reverse miscarriage to get out of this conversation, but no such luck.  

Usagi stops rubbing his back, taking a slow, deep breath. "Leonardo--"  

"I'm getting rid of it." He doesn't look away, can't face hope or rage or whatever nightmare he's going to see in Usagi's eyes. "I...I can't--I'm not ready to be a parent, 'Sagi. I don't know if I'll ever be ready, and if I did it wouldn't be by--" He cuts himself off, breath suddenly strangled in his throat.  

The thought of laying an egg is sickening; Leo doesn't know what he would have done if Donnie, amazing Donnie, hadn't studied his unique anatomy over the years, until he was prepared for such an eventuality to give Leo the exact kind of care he needed. If it hadn't been for him, Leo would be...  

Well. Probably as screwed over as a significant chunk of birthing humans in America at the moment, to be honest.  

But he might be still screwed, in his own way. Leo forces himself to sit up and turn to face Usagi, blinking away tears. Fucking hormones making him want to cry all the time.  

"I'm sorry," he gasps. "I'm so sorry, Usagi, I don't want to take this away from you, but I have to, I need to, and I'm sorry, I know you wanted to give Jotaro a sibling someday, maybe, but I--"  

"Leonardo," Usagi cuts him off. He looks, he looks almost angry and Leo's going to fucking hurl again--  

"Leonardo, why in all the worlds would you think little enough of me to assume I would deny you your choice?"  

Leo blinks, stares. "....What?"  

"Maybe," Usagi reminds him gently, "and some day. And never in a million years, not if the price meant bringing pain to someone I loved."  

"I..." Leo's heart is fluttering, or maybe it's the parasite sucking his innards dry.  

"You are real, Leonardo. You will always be more important to me than some dry possibility. And if I was a man who felt otherwise, I would not be worth your time."  

Leo stares at him for a few seconds, then bursts into tears, slumping forward into Usagi's arms and weeping like a fucking child. Relief shudders through his bones, relief and the raw aftereffects of fear, pressure popped like a balloon.  

"I love you, Leonardo," Usagi says, planting a kiss on his head. "I always will. Nothing you do with your body can change that."  

He holds Leo until the crying stops, just like he did with the puking, only Leo doesn't feel disgusting anymore. He feels safe, he feels loved, and he clings on to that feeling--to Usagi--with everything he has.

______

Author's Note:

I am, thankfully, in a state that is still firmly pro-choice. But this attack on my rights is sickening, and I wish allsupport and compassion in the world to my sisters, brothers, and siblings who aren't so lucky. I love you.

[fanonical]

I've been wanting to make this post for a while.

So I got into fanfiction in a kinda weird way (my first fandom was Cats the Musical, fun fact) and the way that manifested was through badfic communities. At first it was on Livejournal, with people dedicated to posting and making fun of bad fanfiction, but then it spread into this group that did the same thing. I won't name them, but I read a lot of their stuff and even briefly joined them back in the day. Their whole thing was a fictional agency dedicated to finding and destroying bad fanfiction and specifically 'Mary-Sues' - they'd post links to a fic judged to be bad, someone would claim it, and then write about their OCs (agents of this organisation) going in to destroy it, and mock it along the way.

I was about thirteen when I found and joined this group, and at the time, I had this big thing about being 'intelligent'. I'd always type with correct spelling and punctuation, I'd pepper in references to stuff that'd make me look smart, I had this conception that I was inherently just a better writer than most people because I used more caps lock. You don't need to tell me that was insufferably pretentious, I know. I was thirteen! To be honest, over a decade later, this sort of overachieving mindset is something I still struggle with. Anyway, the fanfic I was actually writing at that age, while not The Worst Thing Ever, was actually just pretty standard for someone my age at the time. But back then, I thought I was practically God's gift to fandom.

So I joined this group, because of course I did, I was better than everyone else. And I passed their test of how well you can write. I was all geared up to start posting these little hateful stories, ripping apart other people's work, and then...

Someone did it to me.

Oh, not from that community, and not even that bad in retrospect, but I posted something I was proud of and got a few mocking reviews from people. Looking back at the fic in question, it was bad, I'm not gonna deny that. Out of character, emotionally all over the place, not good. But that really made me think about this thing I wanted to do, this community I wanted to be a part of.

I'd justified the behaviour of this community to myself by thinking that it was, ultimately, to help people write better. To point out the flaws in their current writing, and help lead them towards improving. But that wasn't what we were doing. We were making fun of people behind their backs, calling them stupid, calling them bad writers, calling them a poison on fandom or whatever hyperbolic insults were in vogue back then. So I stopped. I stopped reading their stuff, I stopped being in that community. To be honest, I hadn't been a part of it for long enough to anyone to notice, but still. I couldn't justify this kind of bullying any more.

And...I suppose the point of me telling this story now is that I see a lot of that behaviour still around in fandom. I'm not gonna claim to be all Wise and Old now, I'm in my fucking twenties, but that experience is always something I go back to when I see people acting like all stories - especially those written for fun, by inexperienced authors - need to be free of any flaws or they're the worst thing to happen to the world ever.

(Note: if someone's posting fics that are bigoted and questionable in any way that has a real-life impact, like racism or homophobia or similar, that is not what I'm talking about here. The flaws I mean here are poor spelling and grammar, or characterisation, or plotting, that sort of thing, not bigotry.)

We're all doing this for fun. Let people learn, let people grow. If you want to give critical feedback, make sure the author actually wants feedback of that sort. Some people just post fic because they want to get an idea out there, they aren't really writers, and that's fine! Some of my favourite fics have had huge, obvious flaws, but I wouldn't trade them for anything else because I fell in love with their characterisation, or their dialogue, or their creativity - something about them that shines through.

And if you're cyberbullying someone because they wrote a self-insert into a fanfic? Go fuck yourself, honestly. Get some perspective. It's fun, and that's all it needs to be. Cringe is dead. Long live having fun.

[dashofmonsters]

Deep in the Dark Pt. 6.1

Male Orc x Female Reader

You were not expecting his apartment to basically be a luxury condo but here you are, in the middle of his livingroom taking in the immaculate décor. You had in mind that he lives in a modest bachelor pad, but this is far far from what you thought of.

"Not what you were expecting?" Sloan asks, still pulling his shoes off at the door.

He had somehow convinced you to get ready for today's date at his place since it would be easier for the both of you to get ready at the same place instead of meeting up later or him coming back just to pick you up. You really didn't care about his reasons, you were more curious to see his place.

"Yeah, this is..." you don't want to be rude and ask how he affords this when you both work the same job, but damn you had to know.

"My friends from highschool had the same reaction when they first saw this place. To be honest I've only had this place for a couple years, before that I was living with my grandmother trying to save up to put a down payment on a house nearby... but things happened..." he cringes and sighs.

You really really want to know what happened, but you don't want pry seeing how uncomfortable he is.

"You don't have have to talk about it if you don't want to you. Anyways don't we need to get ready?" you try and change the subject but he walks off still looking stiff.

Worried that you might have messed up you start fishing in your purse for your phone to ask Liz for advise. Sloan comes back though with a book in his hand and a nervous smile on his face.

"It's nothing bad, just weird I guess...My friends had a good laugh at it when they saw the cover," he hands you the book cover down and looks away.

Just by looking at the back you can already tell that it's a romance novel and the summary is very well written, what's so bad about the cover? You flip it over and nearly drop it as you choke back your laughter.

There, dead center on the cover was a younger Sloan in a firefighter get up doing something that's supposed to be a sexy pose.

"Mmhmm, I see," you try really hard to keep your composure but it's so difficult.

He sighs, rolling his eyes as he turns back to you, "It's ok, you can laugh."

You shake your head and take a few deep breaths to pull yourself together, "I'm good, I'm good. Just...Wow. Who's idea was this?"

"Remember my friend who did the impromptu tattoos? Well she's now a best selling smut author and I'm one of her top models for the book covers," He admits.

"There are more books that you're on? Wait you still model?" you have so many questions about this side career of his.

"Oh gods what have I started," he laughs. "Yes there's more, but why don't we save that for later. Like you said, we should probably start getting ready." Sloan uses your earlier subject change against you with a much more relaxed smile.

"Oh alright, but I will see those covers one way or another. Even if I have to hunt down your friend...Honey Royal?" you look at the author name and Sloan snorts.

"She used a name generator, her real name is Rae. Come on, I promise you I'll show you everything that has my face on it. Even the calendars. Now let's start getting ready," he walks by you and pinches your ass making you yelp and laugh.

After you slap his ass back in retaliation you grab your stuff and follow him to his room. It's not as large as you'd thought it'd be given the size of his livingroom but it's still pretty spacious. His bed is quite large and well stocked with pillows of different sizes. You're nearly temped to just jump on it and test how comfy it is, but you'll wait till later tonight.

"You can set your bags on the bed. Shower first or do you need a minute to get your things out and organized?" Sloan asks, opening the door to a ridiculously luxurious looking bathroom.

You didn't even give yourself time to think before blurting out shower. Sloan laughs and starts to strip, you quickly shimmy out of your casual wear before following him into the bathroom while trying not to act excited.

The bathroom is impressively large but as Sloan said before the shower itself is a bit small, luckily the shower head is on the ceiling.

"It'll be a bit cramped if we shower together, do you want to go first or-" He was turning the water on when he pauses to look back at you. A playful and devious smile growing by the second.

"Or maybe you'd like to join me?"

You give him a smile and walk up to him, as you get closer he starts walking backwards into the shower until he's under the raining steamy water. When you enter he takes no time at all lifting you into his arms and pinning you against the wall.

His lips find your neck and you quickly wrap your legs around him to keep yourself up. Little by little he nibbles at you which elicits a symphony of moans and pleas from your lips.

After a few minutes he sets you down and kneels before you. Dripping and flustered with obvious need between his legs, Sloan takes a deep breath before grabbing a bottle of body wash. He jokingly shakes it in a lewd manner making you laugh, but when the white soap squirts out you nearly double over.

"You're ridiculous," you laugh, rolling your eyes.

"Only for you," he smiles as he lathers the soap between his hands.

You can't help the fluttering feelings when he talks like that and at this point you have to admit to yourself that you're clearly smitten. You never thought you'd be this comfortable with anyone, daring to open up this much so fast.

You're quickly pulled from thinking about how he makes you feel emotionally when he licks your clit as he soaps up your legs. Now all you can think about is how he makes you feel. You grip the rail behind you to balance yourself when he slips his tongue between your folds. The steam and heat from the shower start to make you a little dizzy mixed with the heat between your legs, so start bucking your hips hoping he'll get the memo. And he does.

Sloan parts his mouth from you and replaces it with his fingers. You nearly slip, unable to keep yourself steady with how deep he's driving himself into you. He holds you, kneading his fingers into your hip as he kisses you wherever he can. You cum hard and Sloan has to hold you as you come down.

"You're spoiling me too much," you laugh against him, still catching you breath.

"Maybe I like spoiling you," he kisses your forehead.

You try and reach down to return the favor but he stops you saying that the hot water will run out soon. You grimace but you go along, not a fan of cold showers.

He finishes up first, giving you a bit more room to rinse your hair out when he leaves. You're a bit uneasy with how giving he is towards you, feeling like there's such an imbalance. You know it's going to gnaw at you, but it feels like one of those things that can wait for another day...you don't want to ruin the mood for the first date.

When you finally get out you see that Sloan is finishing up drying his hair and smell that decadent cologne that you've come to love. You quickly grab a towel and start drying off, trying to distract yourself from staring at him though you admittedly still glance his way.

"Do you want help with your braid?" you ask him as he sets the hair blow dryer down.

He scratches the side of his head as he thinks about it, his smile twisting into something complicated. "As much as I'd like to say yes, I'm going to have to decline this time."

It was the first time he's said no to you about helping with his hair. The feeling from before came back and curdled in your stomach. You do your best not to show your feelings and start drying your hair off. Sloan continues to get ready, his hair still loose and wavy.

You finish with your hair and go back into his bedroom to start getting dressed. You debate over the two sets of lingerie you brought, one that you know he likes and the brand new one you just bought. When you turn to make sure he wasn't peeking at your spread you see that the bathroom door has been closed.

You do your best to ignore this too and set to work on getting dressed. It's almost as if you're on autopilot while you get ready, blankly putting yourself together while trying to keep it together.

You hear the door to the bathroom open and Sloan comes out with an immaculately complicated set of braids. His normal braid is hanging off his shoulder, strands of silver woven into it and a couple smaller braids on the side that lace into the larger one.

"Oh wow..." is all you could manage to say. You've seen orcs with complex braids but nothing this elaborate for a simple first date.

He smiles and quickly looks away. It makes you feel as if you said something wrong.

"I uh-" you both say and sort of clam up after that.

Well this is awkward...

Sloan tries to look anywhere but at you until he finally stomps your way, picking you up and kissing you breathless. He's relentless with his hands all over you and his mouth doing things to you that you would soon not forget. When he finally parts from you, his eyes are glazed over and his breath is ragged.

"Gods I want you now..." he nips at your neck and you shiver at the heated intimacy. He laughs and nips you a couple more times before setting you down, "But I'll behave and wait."

You have to take a few secretive deep breaths to calm yourself before stealing away to the bathroom to finish getting ready. It's difficult to focus but eventually you go through your terrible habit of focusing on focusing enough to actually finish getting ready.

When you leave the bathroom you look around the room for Sloan but he's nowhere to be seen. You take a few steps out and hear the faint sound of jazz. Walking further out into the livingroom you see him slipping into a well tailored jacket that goes well with the silver in his braid. He turns around and gives a little jump, his eyes all over you as his smile widens.

"However did I get so lucky?" he saunters up to you, his hands sliding onto your hips as he kisses your cheek. "You look absolutely lovely my angel."

"And you look very very handsome," you reach up and kiss him back.

Sloan gives you a soft sweet look that stirs your heart. You can't recall a time that anyone ever looked at you with this much adoration.

"If we stand here and look at each other like this much longer I don't think we're going to be leaving the apartment," he laughs. "I know I said I wanted to start with the walk around the park but would you mind if we hit the café first, I'm a bit hungry and in need of caffeine."

Coffee and breakfast sounds good right now, especially since you've skipped out on both this morning. "Sounds like a plan," you smile.

"Awesome...Oh and before I forget," Sloan starts to walk away beckoning you to follow. He takes you into an office with some interesting things laid out on his desk. You look at the lay out and feel the heat in your cheeks rise. Toys, lots and lots of toys...

"Don't think I forgot about the bet my angel," he purrs into your ear.

To be honest you sort of did forget, but this was way beyond what you thought he'd bring into the relationship this early on. Everything he's got on the desk gives you control, rope, a remote controlled cock ring, handcuffs, a strap-on, and somethings you've never seen before.

"If you need sometime to think about what you want to pick out, we have all day," he places a hand on your hip and nudges up next to you. "I'll be up for whatever you choose."

You look around but you can't help but to keep going back to the cock ring. Having that sort of control would be interesting and it would be a nice experiment into getting out of what you've thought sex should be.

"I think I'll go with this," you tell him, picking it up with a smile.

"If that's what you want," he replies, the lilt in his voice suggesting something more.

You're not sure what he's trying to tease out of you but you're feeling a bit bold what with him being this forward this early on.

"All day, I want you to wear it all day," you stretch out the ring and watch as his mouth hangs open in shock.

It takes him a second longer to process what you've just said but when he comes to he's shoving everything off his desk and thrusting you up on. Before you knew it he's kissing you all over and unzipping his pants.

Oh gods what have I started!

His tongue licks the rim of your ear, hot breath making you dizzy and unable to concentrate. Sloan unleashes his harden dick from his pants, already dripping with precum.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me angel," his voice is gravelly and low. "I have to keep reminding myself to behave around you, not let how I really feel about you show through all the time or else I might scare you away but you certainly don't make it easy..."

His hand slides under and up your dress but you stop him by crossing your legs. He grumbles then hisses when you slide the ring over his cock. "Show me how you really feel about me after you've worn this all day long," you slip off the desk and pinch his butt while slipping passed him.

You make your way back to the bathroom to straighten up the mess he made of you. Your lipstick is smeared and your earrings are about to fall out and your hair is a disaster. Sloan hasn't made any attempts in coming after you, a sign that he's probably trying to go soft so he can tuck his cock back in. You try not to pay that whole scenario further mind, afraid that you'll want to march back in there and see how he's doing.

After cleaning yourself up you go back into the livingroom and see a very composed Sloan ready to leave.

"Shall we?" he holds out his hand and you go up to take it. As you reach out you see a small key fob with controls on it. You quickly grab it and ignore the smug look rising on his face.

~~~~~

It's a short drive to the café which you're quite thankful for. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you got into the car. Sloan mentions some good recommendations and his favorite blend, all of which sounds amazing.

The café itself is rustic and calm, sort of out of place is the downtown setting but very welcoming. The smell of cinnamon and coffee fills the air and it fits so well with the décor. Walking up to the counter you notice the beautiful yet faded piano in the corner. A couple walks passed it and the one of the girls giggles as she presses the keys.

Sloan and you order your coffee and breakfast, the orc barista giving him a once over and then nodding at you as if she knows something you don't.

"I'll bring your order over once it's ready, sit wherever you like," she smiles at the both of you.

He escorts you over to a table near the piano and ever the gentleman, pulls out the seat for you.

"Why thank you sir," you tease as he takes his seat.

He rolls his eyes and starts asking you about what sort of music you like listening to. For the next several minutes the both of you go back and forth about your preferences and mutual distaste for certain overplayed and overhyped songs.

The barista comes by with your coffees saying that the breakfast will be just a tad bit longer. You take a sip of the brew and it's absolutely wonderful. It's rich and smooth and not as bitter as the stuff you get in the breakroom.

"How is it?" Sloan asks.

"Probably the best damn coffee I've ever had," you smile over your cup.

"That good huh?" he laughs then takes a sip of his while looking over at the piano.

"Do you play?" you ask.

"Only when I'm here and have nothing better to do all day. I really wanted one in my apartment but getting one up that high would be a nightmare and I'm not about to settle for a keyboard," he pauses and takes another sip. "Why? Do you want to hear me play?"

You try not to show your curiosity but you fail with your twisted smile and nod your head. Sloan laughs but gets up anyways to go sit at the piano. A couple people turn to look his way as if they've been waiting to hear him play since he's arrived.

"Got any requests angel?" he asks, stretching out his fingers and wiggling them over the keys. Oddly enough you decide on Earth Angel since you really couldn't think of anything off the top of your head. He nods and starts up a jazzy tune that starts to transition into the song. You can't help but to stare at him like a love stricken fool and at this point you couldn't even bring yourself to give a damn about it.

Halfway into the song the barista comes back around with the breakfast and grins at you, "He's rather smitten with you isn't he? I've never seen him go above and beyond with his braids. He must be really serious about you."

It takes you a second to try and understand what she's getting at but something is still going over your head.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, completely unaware.

"It's all in the braids. Different styles and the complexity have different meanings. His says...well, I really shouldn't say." She looks at him and back to you with a cat like grin.

Before you can ask more about the braids a couple walks in and she rushes back to the counter. You try to enjoy the rest of the song that Sloan is playing but the whole comment that the barista threw at you has you a bit off.

Sloan finishes playing and his eyes light up when he sees the breakfast at table.

"So how was it?" he asks, slipping back into his seat and taking a sip of his coffee.

"How was what? Oh right yeah you're playing sorry lost in thought. It was amazing, I really had no idea you could play." you try and push those earlier thoughts to the back of your head.

Just going to start a long list of things we'll get to another time, don't want to ruin the date!

"I wanted to be a pianist like my grandad was but I don't have the talent that he possessed. He could play all night long if it weren't for my nana coming into the parlor to drag him to bed," he laughs but you can tell there's something bothering him.

There's an odd bit of silence then which he quickly dismisses by clearing his throat and talking about breakfast. You play along, not wanting to dive into whatever that was.

The food is amazing, it's filling but not really heavy. Sloan does his best not to scarf down his and you know for sure he's trying since he hasn't eaten since yesterday. When you finally finish up you walk back to his car to drop off the pastries you ordered earlier.

Sloan looks down at his watch and then to his phone, "How are you feeling? Not too full?"

"No, I'm fine. Is there something that we're late for?" you ask, remembering his itinerary.

"Actually we're making great time. If we walk through the park we'll make it to the outdoor theatre by the time the first show starts," he grins, taking your hand in his.

The park he walks you to is pretty large and it's more of a series of smaller parks that make up one large one. The first one is filled with flowers and a reflection pond. There's old fashion lamps that line the walkways and you almost wish you could come back at night to see them lit up.

The second park is filled with art installments that were donated to the city by various artists. You and Sloan took pictures together next to your favorite ones and if you were lucky another couple would come by and offer to help take the pictures.

The third park is your favorite by far. It's filled with stalls and smells like spices and pine. Sloan takes you to a couple of his favorites that sell pickled vegetables, homemade breads, and soaps. The little old ladies at some of the stalls recognize him immediately and start to tease him and ask questions about you. He looks genuinely flustered and you can't help but to think how cute he is.

After a while the both of you have visited every stall and decide to head to the fourth park. There's a small band playing music in the middle with a few couples gathered around.

"I think they're doing their free dance lessons today, wanna try?" he asks.

You've always wanted to try and learn how to dance, even just as a hobby but you remember Marcus making fun of you for trying. You mentally slap yourself for thinking about him while you're with Sloan.

"Only if you want to and only if you don't mind my two left feet," you quip.

"Then with my poor sense of timing, our instructor will be in for one hell of a class," Sloan laughs.

You join in on the class and even though both of you are equally terrible you still have fun. The instructor stops you several times, you for your feet position and Sloan for his posture. After a hour most the couples have gone but you two stay behind for one last song with an almost tango under your belt.

The instructor looks somewhat pleased with the progress you both made considering how bad you both are and offers their card.

"I can't believe that after one whole damn hour I can barely dance the tango," Sloan groans as he plops on the bench.

You take a seat next to him and peel off your shoes to let your feet breathe real quick. "I told you I have two left feet, though I must say even after all that I had fun...I'm still having fun."

Sloan snuggles up to you and holds you close, not caring about the onlookers. "I'm glad. How are your feet? They must hurt like hell after going like that for so long."

"Just overheating and a bit of cramping in the heel but nothing too serious. I'll be ready to go in a few minutes," you stretch out your feet and wince at the cramp beginning in your toes.

"Oh no," you cringe. "Charley horse."

It hurts like hell and it just keeps getting worse. It's stiffening and feels like it just wants to be pulled right out. Sloan kneels down off the bench and takes the foot that you've been trying to stretch out.

"Where is it?" he asks.

"Toes, all of them," you have to hold in the need to scream when he starts working the cramps out of your toes. After a few minutes and a few odd looks from strangers, the cramping is finally gone.

"Better?" he brushes himself off and gets back on the bench.

"Yeah, thanks...and sorry..."you feel a tad bit embarrassed that he had to get down to rub your foot and in a public park of all places.

"No need to be sorry, these things happen." he shrugs off your apology and looks at the time.

"If we leave now we can make the first show. If we leave in thirty minutes we can make the second one. Your choice, I just want you to be comfortable," he kisses your forehead and nudges his head against yours.

You really want to see the first show, Sloan had hyped it up for you a while back. It's a community theatre and the local choir putting on a musical based on one of your favorite books. He found out about it from an old friend who's in the theatre so you know he probably wants to see it too.

You quickly rummage through your purse for Band-Aids and a pain killer. "Give me a couple minutes and I'll be ready to go."

You apply the Band-Aids to the areas you feel like blisters will start forming and take the medicine to ease your still aching feet. Slipping your shoes back on and taking a quick test stand you feel happy with yourself for not wobbling even once.

As you place the trash back in your purse since there's no garbage can around, you feel a familiar key fob you almost forgot about.

Not yet...

After a couple minutes of stretching Sloan and you finally make it to the last park where they've just started to file people into the outdoor theatre. Sloan rented a couple lawn chairs and bought a couple drinks at the concession stand. Lucky for the both of you his friend had the foresight to reserve a good spot on the grass for them by standing on it.

"Over here!" he yells at the both of you.

A tall slender elf with bright red hair waves the both of you his way. He's in all black so he's most likely a stagehand or a technician.

"Rynan long time no see," Sloan reaches out his arm and the elf extends his, both grabbing each other's arm.

"Truly, and who's your..." Rynan pauses looking at you then Sloan the you again. "Friend?"

You suddenly got the same feeling you had at the café when the barista was talking about the braids. Just what the hell do they imply?

Sloan introduces you but never corrects the friend attached to it. Rynan starts talking it up with Sloan and you and bringing up some rather embarrassing school mishaps they got involved with. After a few minutes a few other guys show up and greet Sloan and you. Sloan talks to his old friends but Rynan seems to back a bit away a towards you.

"So how long have you two known each other and how did you meet?" he asks.

"For a couple months, I just started working at the resort." you tell him, feeling the weight of his question.

His brow hikes up and he looks back towards Sloan then you. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but are you two just you know friends with benefits or something more? It's just, yes I know it's a strange question but I've never seen him this serious about someone he's know for such a short amount of time and I just don't want to see him hurt over something one sided and-"

"We're not friends with benefits I can assure you that. As far as what we are, I can't say for sure just yet since we literally just started dating. We're trying to not rush things, that's something we both agreed on," you interrupt Rynan's rant, hoping that you can put him at ease.

He sighs and shrugs and for a moment you think he's going to walk off but he's still got more to say. "Listen I know I'm being nosey and that it's none of my business but Sloan is my friend. I just, he's been through a lot and I don't think he can take a heart break right now."

"I guess the same could be said for me," you admit and watch as Rynan looks at you with confusion.

"Listen I get it, Sloan is your friend and you don't want to see him hurt. But when you come at me like you have been without knowing or even trying to know anything about me then it's like you've already decided I'm not worth it," you snap at him.

This wasn't how you pictured your first meeting with his friends to go. You imagined them a lot more relaxed and less accusing than this.

Rynan opens his mouth to say something then quickly closes it as if he's realizing how careful he needs to be.

"I guess I did jump the gun there didn't I? It's just the last girl he tried to date was a total gold digger and he has a terrible tendency to-"

"Be blinded by love? Got those rose tinted glasses on?" you smile and shrug

"Exactly!" Rynan rolls his eyes back with his head.

"It can be a bit much to be honest. I'm still not sure if he's just insecure or if he's just like that," you almost bite your words but it felt good to get it out.

"Honestly I think it's a bit of both. Dude really didn't start dating till after college so he probably feel like he's lacking in some areas so he has to make it up by being over the top romantic." Rynan admits, his mood towards you rapidly changing.

"But if it ever gets to be too overwhelming you can say that you'll give me a call and ask for full details about summer camp freshman year, that'll get him to clam up," Rynan pulls out a small notebook and writes his number on it.

Sloan comes back just as he's handing it over and gives you both a curious look.

"She's a good girl, don't piss her off or I'll be the first to know," Rynan slaps him on the shoulder and quickly disappears into the growing crowd.

"What was that about?" Sloan asks you.

"I don't know but freshman summer camp must have been pretty bad," you test the waters and Sloan gives you a very very nervous look.

"He didn't say anything but apparently if you upset me I can call and ask," you shrug with a grin.

Sloan stands with his mouth agape for a few moments then shakes his head as the sound of the crowd dies down and everyone settles in. He sets up the chairs and the both of you settle in for the show.

The opening is a bit corny but you forgive it by how amazing the costumes are. You nearly bark out in laughter after the first musical number, you never expected the march out of the main character's ex lover to be so hilarious but it works. Further into the production and it starts to get chilly. You had planned for this so you start to pull your shawl out of your purse but before you can get it all the way out, Sloan is draping his jacket over your shoulders.

"How are you enjoying the show?" he whispers to you then kisses you ear.

You skootch closer to him in your chair and kiss his cheek, "I'm loving it, thank you."

Sloan does the old fashion stretch-and-yawn-arm-of-the-shoulder bit and you would have held in the laugh but he had to give you that ridiculous dapper smile and wiggle his brows. You try so hard to stifle the giggles but Sloan moves your hand away from your mouth and kisses you as if he's been waiting years to do so.

It takes you back a bit, but you enjoy the passion of his kiss that is till you remember you're in a public setting. You try and tap out but he's not ready to come up for air. With no other choice you decide to reach into your purse and get his attention.

With one quick flip you switch the on button on the key fob and Sloan quickly jolts back too. You watch as he shifts in his seat, his brows furrowing as he's fighting not to show how much he's enjoying what your just started.

"I was wondering when you were going to use that," he groans, crossing his legs to hide his growing bulge.

You consider yourself lucky that no ones is nearby to hear or see what's going on. If anyone were to look back at the both of you they'd just see someone looking through their purse and the other uncomfortable and ready to go home.

You smirk at him and turn the vibrations up and then off, his face distorting in disappointment as if he was expecting more.

"Not yet. Not here," you smile.

After that Sloan get's impatient. He doesn't fully show it but you can tell that he's ready to move on from this part of the date. The show gets close to the end and the villain is finally revealed. Not ever having read the book himself Sloan seems genuinely shocked and offended that the ex's late wife is still alive and she's the one behind the curse.

You knew you would cry at the end, it was sad but happy ending with everything wrapped up and the characters' view of their hometown changed forever. Sloan tried not to show it but you could tell that he wasn't ready for that ending.

"Not what you were expecting?" you ask him.

He scratches the corners of his eyes as if he's fighting some annoying pollen allergy. "Regina did not deserve that much hate, especially when William was the one at the center of all the trouble. The curse was a bit much but she was doing it so no one else would get hurt by him!"

Sloan goes on and on about the ending until the actor who played William walks up to the both of you.

"Speak of the damn devil." Sloan laughs as he gets out of his chair.

The actor throws himself at Sloan giving him a big ol' hug.

"It's good to see you my friend, you hardly come around the theatre these days," he slaps Sloan on the arm and then looks over at you then Sloan then you again. He whispers something to Sloan and gives a full hardy laugh.

"George Oliver, double name, hate it, live with it, deal with it, go to bed with it. Pleasure to make your acquaintance," he stretches his hand out to you and you shake it.

You introduce yourself to Sloan's friend and find it hard that this guy played a terrible evil character who broke the hearts of so many women of a small town. He's giddy and over the top, more suited to play a character like Cody, the happy son of the mayor let's solve this curse kind of guy.

"I see you're back at it with playing the bad guy, I thought you were tired of being evil," Sloan asks George.

"Yes but I'm so good at it. What can I say, I love being hated and everyone loves to hate the characters I play. It's a win-win for me," he smiles.

You ask George a bit about his acting and Sloan inserts some stories from highschool here and there, adding to a fond memory of the two being a couple of dumb ass teens doing stupid stuff in theatre.

"I shan't keep you much longer, mostly because Rynan will rear his ugly head any minute now asking where William is," George sighs.

"You have my condolences..."Sloan lowers his head and puts his hand together as if to pray.

The two playfully banter and jest about Rynan until he actually appears and drags George away.

"He seems nice," you smile.

"He's a fun guy, and one that's gotten my ass out of trouble just as much as he's gotten it in it." he shrugs then stretches. "Hungry yet?"

To be honest you've been super hungry for most the day. The little snacks here and there helped but you needed an actual mean.

"Yes, and you?" you try not to see to desperate to leave and go eat, but the hunger zombie that is your brain wants food.

"Staaaaaaarved," he grumbles.

Sloan and you take the lawn chairs back to the front and he calls for a cab since his car is parked on the other side of the park and it's a bit of a walk.

After a short drive and Sloan pointing out a few of his favorite food trucks you reach Gianna's. You had no idea what to expect but it certainly wasn't this. Liz had played up the place to be super high end but that was an understatement. It's clearly reservation only and it seems that some of the staff know who Sloan is.

You start to feel a bit nervous being at a place this nice but you try your best to hide it. Sloan asked for a place that is secluded and very much out of the way which helps calm you down a tad. He orders a bottle of wine as the both of you settle into the booth, the waiter eyeing you with disparaging curiosity.

"The food here is amazing, I hope you like it," he smiles, reaching his hand across the table and taking yours.

"I'm sure I will," you smile, still hoping that he can't see how nerve wrecked you really are.

After a few minutes the waiter comes back with the wine and menus. Sloan goes ahead and orders a few appetizers and the waiter is all smiles but when you try and ask about something they completely ignore you and leave. Not wanting to make a scene you just take a deep breath and move on.

"I must say I thought you up and disappeared with how absent you've been," a tall and well dressed tiefling rounds the corner, crossing his arms as he gives Sloan a devilish grin.

"Hello Seth," he gives the man a flat smile.

"And I see you've brought a-" Seth pauses and looks at you and then at Sloan.

Here we go again, you think as you sip on your wine.

"Lover?" he asks with a shrug.

You nearly choke at his guess but it's a lot better than 'friend'.

Sloan turns to face him, his expression unreadable, "Yes and no, but that's neither here nor there. Is there something you wanted Seth? As you can see I'm-"

"No no, I just wanted to see how an old friend of a friend is doing. I know there's some hard feelings there but I hope that won't continue to keep you away from my family's establishment..." he pauses then turns to leave... "After all where would any of this be without that generous donation."

Sloan attempts to hide his disgust until he leaves then rakes his fingers over his face with a grunt.

"I'm not even going to ask what any of that was about," you hold up a hand while sipping on some more wine to get the sour taste that experience left you with. He takes a few deep breaths and you can see that he's having a hard time composing himself.

Not knowing what else to do, you reach in your bag and press the little button on the fob. Sloan jolts and nearly bangs a knee against the table.

"What are you doing," he whispers, leaning over the table.

You smile and take a sip of wine, "helping."

Sloan settles back down, less upset and more distressed with what's going on in his pants. You slide your foot up his leg, happy that the table cloth hides any indecent behavior. He tenses up and shifts a bit in the booth, then loosens up after you pet his leg a bit more.

"I hope you know what you've just started," Sloan leans onto his hands, his eyes focused on you in a way that makes you feel completely naked.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," you roll your eyes and act like you're completely enamored by the paintings on the wall.

"That's fine, I'll just have to explain it to you later...In the car, then on my couch, on the kitchen counter, possibly on the dryer, and then on my bed," he smirks.

You're used to his teasing but this is different. Is it because this is your first date or perhaps it's because you're now officially dating? You're not quite sure. Legs shift under the table and now he's lightly petting your leg with his.

"Hey, look at me..." he asks, his voice is soft and sweet.

You turn back around and there's an air of concern around him. He looks like he's about to say something but right as he does the waiter comes back around with a full tray of appetizers.

His face looks a bit nerve wrecked for some reason, his smile twisted as he looks back at you.

"Are we ready to order or do you need some more time?" he asks.

You try again to ask about the dish from before and they quickly answer without hesitation. You decide to order it and Sloan orders something you've never heard of nor want to attempt to pronounce at the moment.

"Very good, we'll get those out to you a little after you've finished your appetizers. Any desserts?" he looks over at you but Sloan tells him to make it the chef's choice.

The waiter scurries off then and to your surprise Sloan's look of disgust is back on. He eyes the entire establishment as if he's looking for something or someone, the food on the table getting cold.

"Uh Sloan is something-" you stop midsentence feeling as if getting his attention this way wouldn't work.

You reach into your purse and turn off the cock ring and instead of the jolt from earlier, Sloan turns around and with this expression that you've never seen on him before.

"I uh..." he starts before barring his face in his hands.

There's several moments of silence and it feels so heavy that you can hardly breathe.

Did I do something wrong? Should I...Should I go? He's not saying anything, he won't even look at me...What did I do wrong?

Your chest feels tight and your stomach feels queasy and before you can say anything your standing and walking briskly towards the bathroom leaving Sloan at the booth.

The bathroom is cool and quiet, leaving you blissfully alone to deal with your nausea. After a few minutes and a quick rinse you feel somewhat better. You decide that anxiety and alcohol should never be in the same room again after that.

That being said though, you're not too thrilled about going back to the booth. You have a million questions for Sloan but you're not sure if or when you should ask.

Should I really try dating someone who I can't even talk to? I feel...I feel like this is Marcus all over again...

And there it is, your biggest fear playing out again. You made yourself small in that moment. You try looking in the mirror, hoping to see what Sloan sees in you. Your makeup is smeared, your hair is a mess, and your eyes are a bit puffy from crying in the stall.

There's nothing loveable about this...

One of the wait staff walks in and makes a sound of relief.

"Ma'am, Mr. Sloan asked me to come see if you were alright," her voice is soft and sincere.

You don't know what to say, right now you just want to run out the building with inhuman speed but that won't solve anything.

She tip toes a bit closer and you hear a gasp. You finally look up and you feel relieved when you recognize the person in front of you.

"Carrie?" you sniffle. She was an old coworker from when you both were waitresses at a diner near your home.

"You're a mess," she shakes her head.

You laugh at her bluntness, something that you'd admired about her.

"I feel like a mess," you say.

"Care to talk about it or do you want me to help you with all this..."she circles her finger in the air, pointing at your messed up hair and makeup.

"Maybe a bit of both," you smile weakly.

Carrie leaves and comes back with her purse and helps fix your hair and makeup while listening to your concerns. You hated feeling like you couldn't talk to Sloan and you hate how you feel like there's this weird wall between you. He's got so much history and you don't know when or if you should ask him about it since you just started dating. It feels so overwhelming.

"So he's basically info dumping his life on you without realizing what he's doing and it's stressing you out?" she points.

You hadn't even thought about it that way but it's more or less true. Both you and Rynan did say that Sloan has those rose tented glasses.

"This is a disaster," you grumble, wiping off the eye makeup.

"It is, but are you going to let it keep being a disaster is the question?" she asks.

You grumble again and look back into the mirror. Your face is cleaned up and your hair is fixed, your eyes are still a bit puffy but they'll smooth out soon. You take a deep breath and force back anymore tears.

Tonight has had its good points, its weird points, and now its bad points. And now you're looking down on yourself in a bathroom while an old friend is trying to console you.

Carrie gives you a few more words of wisdom and her phone number to text if things go south again. She leaves you to go back to work but suddenly your slapped with confusion.

How did Sloan know I was in here?

You shake your head and take a few more deep breaths trying to muster up the courage to go back out there. It takes a few minutes to boost yourself up, that and the girls who walk in...After all nothing could be more embarrassing in this moment than giving yourself a pep talk in the women's restroom.

Walking back to the booth you do your best to look straight forward and not to think about anything else but just getting there.

One thing at a time...

Sloan is sitting there and for a split second he looks your way then back at the table, his eyes darting around. You stand next to him and when he looks up you loose all restraint and grab his face and kiss him long and hard.

"I uh...wow," Sloan sighs, his eyes blinking in disbelief.

"Stop going dark on me and start talking to me, it's messing with my head," you tell him, inspired by Carrie's bluntness.

He starts to pout so you pinch him, "Listen I know you wanted this date to be perfect but nothing in life is. Que será, será. I've had an amazing time so far and yeah some of it's been weird and this just threw a wrench into it but are we going to let it ruin the evening?"

"You're just too good to be true," he smiles as he nudges his face in your hands.

"Are we going to quote from oldies now?" you laugh, taking your hands back so you can sit back down.

Sloan straightens up with a grin, "You started it."

After that little snafu, the date goes back to normal. Sloan orders more food, even more hungry after being emotionally distressed. He opens up a bit more to which you're delighted. He explains that he was hesitant to talk more about himself since in the past the people he dated didn't really seem to care.

"I know you're nothing like them and it pains me that I'm being this guarded around you. I don't want you to find out that the real me is just this pile of garbage that only looks nice because it's been dipped in gold," he grumbles.

You pet his leg under the table and he lets out a long sigh.

"But I guess that's not fair to you. I might think of myself as garbage but when you said that I'm nice and funny and all that I felt that if I opened up anymore you'd find stuff about me that you wouldn't like," he admits.

"Oh but I already do have stuff about you that I don't like you dirty blanket thief," you smile.

Sloan softens up at that, "I've asked you to let go of some of your baggage, I guess it's only fair that I dump some of mine."

You reach across the table and take his hands, "With time and trust."

He nods his head and picks you hands up and kisses the tips of your fingers.

The waiter from before comes back with Carrie in tow. They set down a lot more food than you think you can handle but Sloan looks like he can't wait for them to just leave so he can start shoveling it into his mouth.

The food is amazing and despite your emotional hunger you're only able to pick at some of the appetizers or else you won't be able to eat the entrée you ordered. Sloan however has nearly cleared the table.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to how much food you can put away," you laugh.

He pets your leg under the table, "Does my hunger impress you that much?"

You roll your eyes and give him a light punt back.

Dinner comes and goes and you're happily stuffed by the time you're out. Sloan hails a taxi that takes the both of you back to his car. He still wants to take you to the movies and bakery but you both agree after looking at the shows that there's nothing good out.

"I should have checked before putting that on our schedule," he laughs.

You shrug, "Is there anything else you want to do?"

"Aside from the obvious?" he gives you a devilish grin.

"And what's that?" you ask.

He leans down and licks your ear, "Ravish you till you can think of nothing else but me. Have you scream out my name until you've forgotten your own. Bring you endless pleasure till you beg for mercy. I want you to scar my back with your nails, I want your voice to be the only thing I can hear, I want to taste you because I crave you."

You feel your heart beating a mile a minute and your cheeks growing oh so hot.

Proud of himself, Sloan kisses your cheek and leans back into his seat.

"So aside from the obvious, I'll have to think about it," he brings out his phone and starts to scroll looking for something to fill in the gap.

You fidget in the car seat, very hot and bothered and all too frisky. Reaching into your purse you turn on the key fob again and hear Sloan jump.

In no time at all Sloan is leaning over again and kissing you with no regard to the fact that you're still in a public parking lot. His hands start to trail up your dress but you cross your legs.

"Not here," you try and catch your breath but he keeps at.

"Now, I want you now..." he nips your neck and you make a sound that you didn't think you could.

"Dammit! Ok..." He quickly calms himself and starts out of the lot. You have no idea where he's planning on taking you but you're excited. He starts driving around then stops right outside a small strip center.

"What is-"

"Come on, I'll explain later," he's already out of the car and opening your door.

He leads you to a door that's spot has no signs. He unlocks it and turns the alarm off and the lights on. It's a small studio with bare walls and some furniture.

As you look around a bit more you hear Sloan lock the door behind him.

"Will this work?" he asks, pulling his jacket off and tossing it to the side.

"As long as you tell me about this place afterwards," you smile.

He pulls you up against him and kisses you with so much hunger you can hardly stand it. Your hands start to work at unbuttoning his shirt and you feel his reach down and start to tug at your panties.

After tugging and pulling at each other's clothes, Sloan pushes you down on one of the couches and puts his face between your legs. He growls against your pussy and tugs the lingerie aside with his teeth. You grab the back of his head and guide him further in, needing this sweet release.

He's ruthless as he brings you over the edge, he growls and grunts against you and the vibrations are absolutely delicious. When you finally come he doesn't stop, he keeps going and you nearly lose it being overstimulated. When he's finally done he stands and unzips his pants, releasing his hardened cock.

You sit up with what little strength you have and he brings his cock close to your face, but you have other ideas.

"Pick me up," you smile.

Sloan pulls you up and into his arms and kisses your neck, "Are you sure?" His voice is husky and full of need and yet he's still holding back.

"I want you to fuck me, right here, right now. Prove to me how bad you are," you hiss as you pull on his braid enough to elicit that growling you've grown to love.

There's no more words after that, only Sloan lowering you carefully on his cock before he presses you against the wall. At first he takes his time with you, slowly feeling your tightness around him. He hits all the right places and you have to do everything in your power not to scream out, but it becomes harder and harder when he speeds up.

His hot breath tickles your ear, sending shivers down your body as he keeps thrusting into you. You're a mess and you absolutely love it. He bites down against your neck making you cry out in surprise and tighten even more around his cock.

Sloan pulls you off of him as quickly as possible and cums long and hard all over you. He growls as he watches his cum drip along your lingerie, proud of his work. Your legs feel like pudding when he sets you back down on the couch.

"That was...amazing," you're still catching your breath as you lay against the couch.

Sloan hovers over you and his eyes burn into you, hot and heavy. There's something wild in the way that he's looking at, as if he's lost all sense of reality but you can't help but to enjoy being caught in it. He sits down beside you then starts to crawl over you, pinning you to the couch, "If you think we're done here, you my angel are sorely mistaken. You've given me full on permission to misbehave and trust and believe by tomorrow morning you'll know why I'm a bad boy."

You smile and pull yourself up to kiss him, "I better not be able to walk in the morning."

"I promise, but for now coffee and dessert. We're going to need energy for the things we'll be doing tonight," he kisses your forehead and gets up.

For the next few minutes the both of you clean up and get dressed, Sloan practically bouncing out of his skin to leave and get to the next place.

After locking up and leaving Sloan takes you to the late night bakery well known for its strong brew and donuts. You're both a little overzealous, ordering whatever sounds or looks good and leaving with practically a pot of coffee to go.

When you arrive back at Sloan's apartment with bags of goodies and foods, he makes the 'one trip only' move and grabs everything but your purse. You have to help him open the door and he nearly drops everything coming in but he makes a graceful rebound as he trips into the kitchen with all the goods.

Once everything is put up, you and Sloan sit down on his rather large and ridiculously comfortable couch with your coffees and some pastries. He takes a sip of his and sets it down on the table, "Now then my angel, are you ready?"

<Previous Pt. 5 Next 6.2 Final>

[mypoisonedvine]

Reader and Steve end up exposed to something on a mission that cause them to body swap. It would be hot as hell if one of them was seeing Bucky too and he decides to have fun with their misfortune.

(okay so this is kind of a crack fic so im sorry in advance asgjakhsagdj this is the WEIRDEST SMUT I’VE EVER WRITTEN... very nsfw and a slight touch of dubcon beneath the cut.)

you’d only been in Steve’s body for a few hours when you began to understand how deprived this man was.

you hadn’t gotten his memories.  you didn’t really understand how this had happened at all but you knew that for sure, because you distinctly recalled being you yesterday and now you were him.  and he was fucking horny.

maybe it was you, a little bit, but this was definitely his body acting of its own accord more than it was your mind inside of it.  it felt different in a guy’s body, for one.  it felt so different to have need like this, so much more all-encompassing than the subtle tingling in your gut that you normally felt when you were turned on.  damn, is this what it was always like for men?  you weren’t sure how they ever managed to get any work done.  maybe they don’t.

my cock is hard, you thought to yourself, trying to wrap your head around the concept.  you tried not to look down at it as you leaned back in your chair-- his chair, actually-- but you could feel it, not just the arousal coursing through it but the head curving back and digging into your hip.  

I can’t touch it, you decided, it would be invasive.  he’s not here to consent to me touching his body.  and you firmly believed that logic, and yet you felt your hand-- his hand-- reaching into the waistband of his uniform and pulling it out.  you whimpered just to feel warmth on it, though the sound was foreign to your ears as you realized you had his voice.

you had never been good at handjobs, but it was like instinct was guiding you as you stroked the cock you found in your palm.  his hands were sort of rough, something you normally liked but was not well-received in this body.  but it was enough-- it was just enough to satisfy this desperation that burned in your chest.  you could tell it had been so long since this cock had gotten attention from anything but this hand, you could feel how much he needed more but you, as his friend, understood why he didn’t get it.  he always told you he was too busy for dating.  frankly, if you got to this point, you wouldn’t really be worried about “dating” so much as “hooking up” but he was, understandably, not the type.

your head fell back as you bucked up into your hand, biting down on your lip-- and you’d always dreamed of tasting his lips, just not like this.  “fuck,” you hissed, the sound of his voice mundane to his body but driving your mind wild inside his stupidly beautiful head.  there was an urge to moan your own name, just to know how it would sound if he said it like this, but the idea was too weird for you go through with it.

then again, you were stuck in Steve’s body and jerking off so, ‘too weird’ was kind of a moot point.

you were jolted out of your rhythm when there was a knock at your-- his-- door.

“wh-who is it?” you stammered.

“it’s me!” you heard from the other side of the door. “or, well, it’s you!”

“shit,” you mumbled as you rushed to redress, running to the door-- you were so much faster in this body, unsurprisingly.  you weren’t really psychologically prepared to open the door and see yourself there.  you weren’t ready to be pierced by your own gaze, your own arms crossed in confusion.

“do you always get wet when you look at me?” Steve asked you suddenly.  “or is this just me... knowing it’s you?”

you swallowed, feeling an Adam’s apple bob in your neck-- what an odd sensation.

“does my voice always sound like that?” you asked when you heard his words from your mouth.

“we need to fix this before Bucky finds me again,” he demanded, “I barely managed to toss him off me.”

“... so I guess you found out about us too?” you winced, your secret fuckbuddies relationship now out in the open.

“more than I ever wanted to know,” he frowned.  his expression shifted as he looked up at you again.  “what were you doing?”

“what?” you asked, and you heard your own breathlessness.  “I wasn’t doing anything.  you always breathe like this.  don’t you have asthma?”

“I used to have asthma,” he corrected.

“yes, and now you have a vagina-- my vagina!-- so maybe we should focus on that and not you giving me this random third degree here?”

“whatever,” he scoffed, brushing past you to step into the room as you shut the door.  

“you didn’t... look, did you?” you asked nervously.

“uh, no,” he answered quickly, “did you?”

“I made a specific point not to,” you announced proudly.

“oh...” he mumbled, “good...”

“sooooo...” you changed the subject awkwardly, “any plans on how to fix this?”

“I was thinking we’ll start by trying everything we can think of, and work from there,” he offered.

“good plan,” you decided.  “maybe.... maybe, uh... we have to... go... somewhere?  or do something?”

“go somewhere and do something?” steve repeated incredulously. “you’re a real genius.”

“don’t make that face at me, you’re gonna give me frown lines,” you sneered.  “I can’t help it, okay?  I can’t think!  I’m distracted!”

“by what?”

“by... by stuff!” you defended, scratching the back of your neck-- it was your nervous habit, rendered entirely different by his short hair.

steve sighed, your chest rising and falling with his breath.  “it’s hard, isn’t it?”

“well, yeah, switching bodies is hard--”

“no.  it’s hard... isn’t it?”

your eyes went a little wide.  “ohhh. uh, yeah, it is.”

“god, I’m sorry,” he groaned, hiding your face in your hands, “it does that a lot.”

“how do you do anything?” you squawked.  “it’s like all I can think about is... is how bad I just need to be in something, something... warm!”

“welcome to my world,” he shrugged.

“you have to let me...” you began, but stopped yourself.  “no, no, we-- no.”

“what is it?” he asked.

“you have to let me fuck you.  me.  you have to let... you fuck me...?”

“won’t that be, you know... scarring?” 

you nodded.  “but I’m not sure we have a choice, please just-- just let me-- I know I want it.  I mean, I know my body wants it.  didn’t you say I’m wet?  I’m probably drenched by now, huh?”

he stammered a bit before answering. “um... I think so...”

“it feels warm, right?  warm and sensitive and like you need to be filled with something?”

“...kinda...” he replied hesitantly.

“please,” you groaned, “don’t tell me I’m the only one that’s ever thought about it.”

“no,” he answered, quicker than ever, “no, you aren’t.  you’re... you’re sure it’s okay?”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you finally admitted, “not like this, but I’ll take what I can get--”

“fuck it,” he mumbled before pulling you into a heated kiss, and with your eyes closed you couldn’t really tell the difference of who was who anymore, you just knew that it was him touching you and you didn’t really care that his hands were smaller and that his lips were softer.

you undressed each other at lightning speed, and there was a hand on your cock-- clearly he was pulling from his own experience with his own cock, because wow, he knew exactly how to touch it to make you gasp and whimper.

“you can look,” he offered to you when he pulled back from the kiss, “I know I did.”

“did you like what you saw?” you asked hesitantly.

“better than I ever imagined,” he grinned.  “I even put a finger inside you.  I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I’m gonna fit.”

“neither am I,” you sighed as you looked down at the thick member your own slender hand was wrapped around.  “fuck, steve... it’ll probably hurt you.”

“let’s just hope we can fix this tonight and you get to be sore tomorrow, not me,” he chuckled a little.

“k-keep stroking it, please,” you sighed, “I’m already-- I think I’m close.  I can’t really tell...”

“you should be able to feel it here,” he explained as he slipped his touch lower to cup your balls--

“oh,” you breathed, “this is... new...”

“oh please, it’s nothing compared to a clit,” he laughed, “that thing is sensitive.”

you realized that steve was taking much better advantage of this than you were-- while you had his body at your disposal, you needed to test out the superhuman strength.  it took you almost nothing to lift your own weight onto the desk, grinning as you saw him gasp at the show of strength.

“been a while since somebody lifted you?” you asked him with a smirk.  he didn’t reply, just spread his-- your-- legs and let you grind against him, just the warmth of a body enough for now even if you weren’t inside of it.  you kissed him again as you pulled him closer, thrusting to let that poor, sensitive cock slide over the delicate skin beneath you.

“well, well, well,” a voice echoed from the doorway.  you sat up and spun around to find Bucky, leaning around the wall with crossed arms and a satisfied smirk.  “it was just a matter of time before you two got together-- we all knew it.  no wonder you ran off so fast, babygirl... you had another engagement to attend to.”

“Buck, hold on--” Steve began.

“Bucky, this is not what it looks like,” you interrupted.

“then what is it?” Bucky asked with faux innocence.

you and Steve looked at each other, neither of you sure exactly how to answer that.  “it’s complicated,” you answered in unison.

“don’t worry about me, I’m not jealous,” he explained.  “we never said we were exclusive, no hard feelings,” he addressed Steve-- but he was talking to you.  well, he was trying to talk to you, but he didn’t know he was looking at Steve.  well, he was looking at you, but just your body-- oh fuck it, even you couldn’t make sense of it. “but Steve?” he chuckled. “he doesn’t even know what he’s doing.  he can’t make you feel as good as I can, I know it.”

he was like a blur as he pounced on you-- your body, at least, but it was Steve that was arching his back and moaning as Bucky licked and sucked at your neck, slipped his metal hand into your shorts and apparently found your most sensitive spots instantly.  Steve was already bucking up into his touch, your own moans echoing over the walls even if you weren’t the one making them.

“B-Buck, wait,” Steve protested, but he was too weak now to push him off, and too far gone into the pleasure to want to.

“feels good, hm?” Bucky purred, throwing a stray glance at you.  “are you jealous?” he asked you tauntingly.

“yes,” you admitted.

“jealous cause you know how good it feels when I make you come like this?” he pressed, and you froze.  

“do... do I?” you asked Steve anxiously.

“don’t look at him, look at me,” Bucky corrected firmly.  him? you wondered, but before you could ask, he answered your question, turning to address Steve pinned under him.  “I know it’s you, Steve.”

“what?!” you both gaped.

“she would never call me ‘pal’ like you did earlier,” Buck explained, “and she would never say no to me like you also did earlier.”

“hey!” you protested.

“and you,” he laughed, “I’d know that deer-in-the-headlights look anywhere, even on a different face.”

as embarrassing as this whole situation was, it was sort of nice to have someone else acknowledge it.  it made you feel less crazy.

“I can’t keep track of this conversation while there are fingers inside of me,” Steve shivered.

“it’s weird, isn’t it?” you smiled at him.  “good weird.”

“very good, very weird,” he agreed, breathing heavier as Bucky’s arm flexed from pumping his hand back and forth.

“she usually comes in just a few minutes from this,” Bucky explained to Steve, making you feel oddly exposed-- and not just because you knew they could both see the achingly-hard cock threatening to burst from the hastily-zipped pants.  “I know it’s you in there, but it’s still her body... so it should still be the same, right?”

“I-I’m close,” Steve replied, making Bucky laugh.

“oh, you’re even faster, damn.  go ahead and come for me-- don’t you wanna hear how she sounds when she comes?”

“yes.”

“don’t you wanna see that pussy cream all over my fingers?” 

“yes.”

“then beg me not to stop,” Bucky demanded, and instinct took over.

“please don’t stop,” you found yourself saying before Steve could answer, making them both turn to you.

“I’ve got you so well-trained,” Bucky grinned before looking back down at Steve beneath him.  “just like that, doll,” he repeated his instruction.

“don’t call me ‘doll,’” Steve barely managed to protest between loud moans.

“okay,” Bucky relented, “beg for me just like that, Stevie.”

“please!” Steve shouted instantly.  “please... please don’t stop.”

“one more time?”

“damn it, Buck, don’t stop!” he sobbed, and you wondered if you always looked like that when you came or if it was Steve’s expression painted on your own features.  Bucky, as always, wasn’t content with just one, and Steve’s eyes shot wide open as he realized that this could just keep going, over and over.  

“you’re-- you’re really not gonna stop,” Steve gasped.

“he’s mean like that,” you explained with a little smirk.  you were looking forward to getting back in your own body just for the multiple orgasms alone.

“how’s it feel, Stevie?” Bucky asked proudly.

“s-so good,” he answered dutifully, “so good it almost hurts.  fuck it hurts... but I want more, I wanna come again.”

“mm, so greedy,” Bucky praised.  “just one more, then we need to give our lonely friend some love... I bet she’s ready to make a mess in your pants just from watching me finger you--” he turned to you suddenly-- “isn’t that right?”

“yes,” you answered quickly.  “p-please, Bucky, I feel so... I need you.”

“I know, babygirl, it won’t be much longer,” he promised, “I can feel your cunt clenching on me already-- come on over here and feel for yourself.”

you hesitantly stepped closer, hissing a little as Bucky’s free hand grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand closer.  “see?  just put your finger in beside mine, I want you to know how tight you get when I make you come.”

you took a shaky breath but did as he asked, hearing Steve’s gasp as you inserted his thick finger into your slickened channel.  it definitely felt different than when you put your own fingers in yourself-- for him and for you.  it was different to feel your pussy around your finger when you couldn’t feel the finger in your pussy... if that made any sense.

“three’s too many,” Steve complained.

“and yet, here we are,” Bucky winked.

“I can’t,” Steve clarified, “it’s too big.”

“aw, she always says that but then she changes her mind... you will too,” Bucky decided.  “now just move like this,” he explained to you as you started to move with him, feeling the way your body responded instantly.  it built up so fast as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s pace, watching Steve cry out at the same time as your walls tightened around the assortment of fingers-- Steve and Bucky’s, flesh and metal-- inside you.

“you’re close,” Bucky informed both of you.  “feel the way that pretty pussy is getting so wet, holding on so tight?”

“y-yes,” you shivered, trying your best to ignore the pangs of need coursing through the cock you still struggled to acknowledge as your own.

“go ahead and come, Stevie,” Bucky encouraged, and that was all it took; Steve cried out as your whole body spasmed-- not just your body, but the body you were in.  You were coming, much to your dismay, without even being touched, ropes of hot come creating a wet patch on Steve’s uniform, and you couldn’t bit back the groans of pleasure as your gut flexed with each wave of the orgasm.

“oh, now look at that,” Bucky purred as he looked back and forth between Steve and yourself.  “you two both made a mess.”

“aw damn it, my uniform!” Steve protested as he looked at you.

“I think you need to help our girl clean up that mess,” Bucky cooed as Steve shot him a look.  “it’s been too long since you got your dick sucked... and I’ve always felt it’s your responsibility to solve your own problems.”

“I... I don’t know how,” Steve protested.

“I’ll show you,” Bucky promised as he guided Steve to kneel in front of you, helping you push down your trousers.  “just lick up some of that come first, nice and slow.”

you gasped the second you felt a warm tongue against your skin, your hands reaching out and finding a comfortable place to grip on your own hair-- and Steve moaned when you pulled on it.

“you like the taste of your own come, Stevie?” Bucky purred. “now put it in your mouth-- just the head, you might not be able to fit much else.  suck on it like a popsicle.”

you bit back a moan that wouldn’t been embarrassingly loud when you felt a warm, slick mouth wrap around where you were now much too sensitive.  

“look down, babygirl,” Bucky whispered to you.

“I-- I can’t,” you denied, “I can’t look.”

“but you look so pretty when you suck cock, doll, haven’t I told you a million times?”

you sighed but obeyed, opening your eyes and looking down at Steve looking up at you, but with your eyes, and with your lips stretch around his thick shaft.  “I... I do look pretty,” you agreed nervously.

“did you always wonder what Steve looks like when he’s getting his cock sucked?” Bucky asked you as he knelt down beside your body where Steve was using it for the moment.  “The answer is... very confused.”

“that might be unique to this situation,” Steve explained as he pulled away from you.

“keep sucking, whore, I didn’t say you could stop.”

that language made you both moan softly, but Steve obeyed.

“oh, we are going to have so much fun,” Bucky chuckled excitedly, and you already knew that you were in for a very long night.

[sniper-childe]

Hello! I’d like to share some of my notes if I were to Beta-read the most recent Archon Quest. I will be going through what worked, what could be taken out, and what could’ve been better. Note that I’m looking at this through an editor’s lens so I’m going to try NOT to change the plot we were given no matter what my opinions are about it BUT some of the said opinions may slip out.

Also, a bit of a disclaimer: I know that Genshin isn’t an actual literary work but miHoYo is known for its writers’ great storytelling and I’ve always loved their work so it really came as a surprise as to what happened to the mess that is Inazuma Act 3. So yeah.

Contains:

1. What was foreshadowed about the characters and why the payoff of their portrayals felt cheap.

a. About Kokomi and the rebellion.

b. About the Fatui, the James Bond villain wannabe.

c. About Ei and the Raiden Shogun.

2. How Chapter 2, Act 3 could have been the turning point that would have us, as the Traveler, cement our perceptions of the Archons and Gods of Celestia OR what I think the death of Signora was supposed to be but was undermined by this one tidbit.

BONUS: I wrote this before Kokomi’s story quest was released but decided to wait for it before posting. And guess what? I think Kokomi’s Story Quest works better as an Archon Quest. At least, some parts of it.

miHoYo teased us this intelligent leader of the resistance that is well-versed in the Art of War. The end of Ch2: Act 2 showed us a powerful Kokomi. So why was she sidelined all throughout the act?

I actually like the idea of the resistance asking the Fatui for aid. But miHoYo chickened out and made it so that they did it unknowingly. To which I say: how? If Kokomi was so smart she should’ve known better. I figured it was the Fatui within a single sentence, so why didn’t Kokomi?

They should’ve stuck with the concept of the underdogs – or in Kokomi’s words, the little fish – of war in an act of desperation. They could’ve shown a calculated Kokomi “making a deal with the devil” and will do anything to win the fight against the Shogunate.

In her Character Teaser, she was willing to burn the enemies’ supplies – to starve the enemy. She can be ruthless, that’s why Kokomi actively giving Delusions to her foot soldiers would have made much more sense to cause the Fatui to be involved rather than the whole “the Fatui orchestrated everything” schtick.

Which brings me to my next point: when did the Fatui turn into a James Bond villain? I hate that trope so much. It’s like the Deus Ex Machina of villainy. It’s lazy. And it doesn’t even fit the Fatui’s modus operandi.

In the prologue, the Abyss Order corrupted Dvalin and the Fatui was just there waiting to steal Barbatos’ gnosis while the Knights are distracted. Morax decided to retire one day so the Fatui swept right in and offered a test of Liyue in exchange for his gnosis.

The last two locations had their own story to tell while the Fatui was just in the background like the opportunistic antagonist that they are.

It also would have been a stronger plotline to have the already set lore – like the tenuous relationship between Watatsumi and Narukami – be the driving force of the Inazuman Civil War.

The prologue and chapter 1 also delivered what we are told we’re going to get in the Story Preview. That’s why they are satisfying. However, with chapter 2, the way it ended turned out to be more about the Fatui rather than “what do mortals see of the eternity chased after by their god.”

Sure, we got the consequences of the war in the World Quests and some of it in the second act. But making the Fatui the Big Bad in the end takes value away from the actions of the characters that are supposed to be the main feature of this chapter.

How much of the Eternity the Raiden Shogun is pursuing is directly from Ei? How much of it is its own understanding of eternity, coupled with Ei’s memories, and its own response? How much of it is the Fatui’s influence?

I have to say though, I’m fine with the puppet actually. Believe it or not. I have had kinda figured that out with the weird shifting of emotions in and out of the puppet. And the dead glowing eyes. So kudos to the design and animation team for that foreshadowing.

It was also said that the current Electro Archon lost someone dear to her and, while I didn’t think it was a twin, I did figure that the current Electro Archon wasn’t the real Electro Archon. So the whole Baal and Beelzebul backstory didn’t really surprise me. So I guess that was foreshadowed too? But my friends didn’t feel the same way so I don’t know. I’m not touching that.

But I do agree that all of the new lore got info-dumped to us by Yae rather than have us find out about them. To be honest, I would have wanted the backstory of Ei to be in her story quest rather than it be in the Archon Quest. A World Quest could work too.

I just feel like the 2.1 Archon Quest ended up cramming so many themes and subplots when it should’ve been focusing on what was promised: the darkness that is brought by their god.

They already had set up the Visions are people’s motivations/ambitions and that taking them away also takes away their agency.

Then they could’ve played with the idea of the people of Watatsumi looking up to Kokomi as their pseudo-god in-place of Orobashi and so with her actively giving Delusions could fit well in the said theme.

They could’ve made Ei and Kokomi character foils of each other and have the final showdown be about them.

And then it’ll all, of course, end up with the people of Inazuma learning how to work without their “gods” or something like that, which is the overarching theme of the whole series if you think about it.

But as I said, my opinions about the plot shouldn’t matter and I’m only here to make what was already written better.

So let’s talk about something that the puppet has done which didn’t make any sense on the surface level but could’ve been clever if it was done right. Killing La Signora.

Okay. So there is a pivotal moment at the end of the first arc of a three-act story where the main character experiences something that will leave them no choice but to move forward. This usually is a physical thing like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. But it can also be a mental or emotional situation.

Over at Honkai, the first arc ended with the death of a beloved mentor and a shattered world (both external and internal). The characters had no choice but to step up and “to stay alive, bravely” (yes, I won’t stop using this line ever). It was so very well done and even after so many years it still hurt no matter how many times you reread/rewatch the scene.

This reread value is what shows how much a twist is well written.

And that is what miHoYo is known for. So I had high expectations with the plot twist (technically this pivotal moment is called a plot twist because it twists the feel and/or pace of the story). Chapter 2 is the perfect spot to end the first act of a seven-chaptered story. So I’m really preparing myself for the inevitable twist.

But then we ended up with Signora’s death.

Okay. So. They could have used that to show us, as the traveler, how Archons and Celestial beings are unfeeling and not to be trusted. We were told this repeatedly by Dainsleiff and by the Abyss Twin. But it is only textbook writing 101 to show NOT tell.

And Signora’s death could have been this portrayal. Although, to be honest, it would have been more impactful if the one who died is a friend of the Traveler.

Them seeing someone die at the hands of an Archon could have their idea of gods shift. Because there is no turning back once you see the proof right in front of your eyes.

But instead, the puppet did it. So what was the point of Signora’s death if not just a power demonstration? We already knew that the Raiden Shogun is powerful. So why did Signora have to die?

Sure, one can argue that the puppet was enacting the Ei’s will so maybe there was a point. But! In Ei’s story quest, we were told that the puppet would have no hesitation when it comes to killing whereas Ei can show mercy.

Which begs, again, the question: how much of the Raiden Shogun’s actions is a reflection of Ei’s will, and how much of it is a logic response of an artificial intelligence from Ei’s memories?

Honestly? I don’t like that they killed off Signora. It doesn’t feel right. I would’ve taken Beidou’s death over Signora’s no matter how much I love Beidou. There was just no build-up to it and it feels weak. I… didn’t feel anything besides confusion. The anger only came later because of the wasted potential.

But overall, I do think they could’ve made it work if it were actually Ei doing the killing.

--

So I just did Kokomi’s Story Quest and man. The soldiers wanting to continue the war is what they really should have made the motivations of the actual war rather than have it as a post-war response and then have Kokomi fix their mess.

Seriously. While it was really interesting to see the usual trauma response of soldiers who had only known war their whole life, they wasted this idea, man.

Before doing the Archon Quest I had thought that the Watatsumi had a hand on the Vision Hunt Decree. Because if I were a tactician, I would have made something to anger the people of my enemies and have them have their internal issues. And while the Shogunate is weak, that’s when I will strike and claim Inazuma for my people and my god.

Then Orobashi will rise once more.

Yep.

Obviously, I really wanted Kokomi to be a more active character in the Archon Quest.

Anyways. If you reached the end, thank you for reading this ~1.5k words of musings. Tell me what you think. Or don’t. You do you.

[missymurphy1985]

The Writer (part4)

Warnings - Angst

Request? Yep

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

You woke alone - checking the clock on the dressing table you darted out of bed. 6:45am, Tommy said his driver would be taking you home at 7. You rushed as quickly as your sore thighs would allow you back to your bedroom so no one spotted you run across the landing completely naked.

Pulling your clothes on, gathering your notepads and stuffing them in the small bag you had brought, you turned and nearly jumped out of your skin as a young woman of maybe 22/23 stood in the doorway. You vaguely recognised her as one of the maids who made your tea the night before. She had a strange look in her eyes that made you feel uneasy.

"I believe Mr Shelby has arranged a car for me this morning?" You asked, ignoring her gaze.

"He has. It's outside. He gave me this to pass onto you." She smiled wryly, handing you the envelope. You thanked her, and left the room heading down to the waiting car.

You opened the envelope once you were en route. Two £1 notes fell out, alongside a letter. Your heart froze in your chest as you read it, feeling like a complete fool.

Ms. Y/L/N,

Since you enjoyed being treated as a two-bob whore, I suppose it's only fitting I pay you for your services.

The article can proceed, but I'd prefer if someone with more professionalism could attend next time.

Yours,

T. Shelby

The tears were falling from your eyes as you pulled up outside your apartment. How could you have been so stupid... A millionaire like him shacking up with you? A penniless widow with more debt than you cared to admit to.. trying to make a name for yourself in a man's world. He clearly thought you were nothing more than a whore. You left the money on the back seat and exited the car, your heart shattered as you unlocked your door and stepped inside.

************************************************************

"So how did it go?" David asked as you sat opposite him in his office an hour later.

"Honestly? The interview was difficult. He wouldn't reveal much about himself."

"Laura said you didn't come home last night." Laura was your roommate, she was also dating David. You should have known she'd tell him. He raised an eyebrow at you, smirking.

"The storm." You voice caught in your throat, emotions threatening to spill over. David quickly stood and closed the office door, kneeling in front of you.

"What happened Y/n? Come on, don't cry..." You fell into your big brother's arms and you let yourself cry. The only man you allowed to see you like this. You told him about the night before, in not as much detail, and then the note this morning.

"Fucking asshole... I never should have sent you to him!! This is all my fault... Oh sis I'm so fucking sorry, come here...." He held you tight. "Go home. Run a bath. I'll send Laura over with a bottle of wine. Just get him out of your head. God I sent you right into his filthy little hands didn't I..."

"David this isn't your fault. I wanted it as much as he did okay? He was just so different last night.. he asked me to stay, he put me into his bed, he held me.. then that note. And the money.. the fucking money?! Like a fucking whore!"

"Y/n go home. That's an order. You're not to go back again. I'll send Frank, he can do the article."

"No you won't! This is MY story and I will be the one to tell it! That halfwit doesn't even know which end of the pen to use!"

"He's already demanded someone else, you saw it for yourself. Now go home, I'll let Laura know you're on your way."

************************************************************

It was a week later that you finally felt strong enough to leave the house. Your confidence at an all time low, your heart completely broken, but your cupboards were empty as your soul felt and Laura was away for a few days with family back in Scotland. You had no choice but to face it and go to the store in the next town. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you took a deep breath and headed out.

Waiting in line, you felt a tap on your shoulder. A dark haired woman with hard but kind eyes stood behind you.

"Are you Y/n?" She asked. You nodded, before quickly realising who she was.

"Polly Gray?" You gasped, and she nodded, pulling you into a huge hug.

"Oh y/n... It's been so long!! My goodness how you've grown!!!" You hugged her back, she'd always been so kind to you as a child knocking about with John. She was the only member of the family that knew you were close to him.

"Come for a drink! The Garrison is only down the street!" She grinned, as you paid for your groceries. You were about to answer before she linked arms with you and was almost frog marching you down the road. To be honest, you didn't mind. She clearly didn't know about your liaison with her nephew a week earlier, and a drink sounded very appealing.

Sitting in the small side room as she went to the bar, you felt yourself relax. She doesn't know, you won't tell her, it's one drink, no harm done.

"Perks of Arthur owning the pub - Peaky women get served at the bar without question!" She grinned, placing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses on the table in front of you. So much of one drink....

You both knocked the first one back quickly, before sipping your second a little slower. She enquired about your life up to now, squeezing your hand gently as you told her about Jack and his death. She smiled as you told her about your work, confessing to her your pen name in the Herald which made her howl with laughter.

"They're always my favourite articles in that newspaper!! I always felt they had a woman's touch to them, so well written! If only you could use your own name eh? Bloody men, ruin everything for us women."

"Yes. Yes they do." You eyes glanced out the window and she noticed them misting up slightly.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, nothing, I'm fine. Just being silly."

"There's a man, isn't there? A new man?"

"Pol..."

"And he's hurt you, hasn't he? I'll rip his balls off... Let me guess, fucked you and fucked you off?"

"Pol, it's fine honestly."

"Your eyes tell me it's not fine y/n."

"It was a silly, drunken mistake. On both parts. It won't happen again."

"No one hurts my y/n and gets away with it. Name." Her voice was forceful now. She was angry, you could see it in her eyes.

"Polly please! It was a one night thing that shouldn't have happened in the first place! Just let it go, okay?"

"Y/n, when my daughter was taken away, you were closest thing I had left. I was heartbroken when you moved away. I can't allow some nasty little shit to break your heart after what you've been through!"

Your resolve was breaking, your patience was being tested, and your emotions were about to spill over, when the door to the room opened and your heart stopped.

"Tommy!!! Look who I found in the store down the street!" Polly exclaimed, and his blue eyes met your watery ones. He smiled, you scowled. Polly looked between the two of you, and you could honestly have heard a pin drop. You gathered your shopping up and stood up, still glaring at Tommy who never took his eyes from yours. You scoffed at him, thanked Polly for the drink, and hurried out the room.

"Oh Thomas... Thomas Shelby you have some fucking explaining to do!" You heard Polly shout from behind you but you didn't stick around to hear anymore.

[scintillasofbeomgyu]

˚ · . 𝘁𝘅𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻! — 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙨/𝙤

pairing: txt x gn!reader

genre: fluff; crack

word count: 725

warning(s): none

a/n: this is written with the members being able to drive, but like i don't think any of them can 😔🙏🏻 also, they’re driving a whole ✨manual✨

᠃ ⚘ choi yeonjun:

as in anything, would be hyping you up the entire time

“they wish they could make turns like my baby!”

even though he had explained 2828288 times and you actually just cannot make proper turns to save your own life

might actually be scared, but will constantly tell you that you’ve got this and that you're doing great– pretty much trying to convince himself too LMAO

does breathing exercises with you when you hard-break after nearly hitting someone (for his own sake too 🤧)

“a deep breath in, and out” gestures towards the chest “in and out. i'm okay, you’re okay, they’re okay, you’ve got this. we can try again.”

pecks your lips when you return safely to the yard, and is going to brag to the members about his talented yn

᠃ ⚘ choi soobin:

we all know this man is going to baby you, be honest

is going to instruct you with a very calm, gentle tone, but will also hype you up whenever you get something right

when you finally managed to pull straight into the parking bay, would clap excitedly, “that’s my yn!! you did such a good job i’m so proud of you!!”

when you pull out of the parking lot and onto the road, he’d constantly be reassuring you— even when you jumped 3 redlights in panic and the car keeps rolling back at stop streets 😭

“shh, it’s okay babe. you’re doing just fine. focus on the road infront of you, breathe.”

your wheel goes up on the pavement when you make a left?

“eyy, it’s all part of the road anyway, you’re ‘slaying’ as they say!”

᠃ ⚘ choi beomgyu:

puts his seatbelt on, says his prayers, tells you where his will is and says that he just wants you to know that no matter what happens, he loves you

except you haven’t even turned the car on yet

but don’t get him wrong, he has the utmost faith that you’ll do a good job !!

and even though you’re going 30 in a 60 zone, he will tell you to ignore them and focus, then turn around and shout at them from his window in your stead

a loud™ car ride; he’s supposed to be instructing you but he isn’t

“yn yn yn watch out for the cat!” “woohoo good job on that turn!” “OH MY GOD BE CAREFUL YOU ALMOST HIT THAT GUY” “wAIT YOU NEED TO BREAK SOONER” smh. but headpats when you safely return to the yard 🥺

᠃ ⚘ kang taehyun:

is about to be the best driving instructor you have ever met; he is now an instructor before he is your boyfriend

bet he studied the entire manual before your he took you for your first lesson

makes extra sure your seatbelt is fixed properly, shows you how you should set the rearview mirror and reminds you to do your checks

is very calm, guides your hands in the steering wheel to assist you

“yes, good. very good, angel. just take your foot a little slower off the clutch? there we go.”

is very patient !! when repeated attempts at parallel parking frustrates you (as it would anyone tbh 😔), he’ll give your cheek a squeeze

“take it easy. rome wasn’t built in a day. here, i brought some water and snacks.”

᠃ ⚘ huening kai:

would try to cover up his worry with excitement so that he didn’t make you any more nervous, but he’s pretty easy to read so 😭

would panic like beomgyu, but would also be as reassuring as soobin !!

instead of really instructing, he’d go “ah, don’t you want to speed up a little more before changing gears? oh, i think you should keep a little more to the middle of the road, jagi!”

life flashes before his eyes when you encounter a circle on your trip

“no, no, it’s going to be okay !! AHAHAHA THAT CAR ALMOST HIT US! but that’s totally okay, you’re doing so well!!”

breathes again when you make it back to the yard, and claps his hands excitedly “you’re going to ace this test, yn! you’re an even better driver than me!”

[nad-zeta]

Vincent - Better together

Fandom: Ikevamp

Pairings: Vincent x Reader

Genre: Fluffffff

Words: 1100+

Comments: Eeeeep so ill let yall guess who this is for hehe! Eeeek so excited! Whooop Whooop! //dances around ❤❤ ❤😳🥺! 🥺😳❤🌈

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:

Oh, how you were truly a sucker for getting roped into all sorts of time-consuming tasks. You were too kind, honestly, and you worked far too hard. Your latest task? To grade the various exams of the learners attending the makeshift school founded by Napoleon and Isaac. To be honest, it wasn’t even your task to start with; it was fostered onto as the result of a bet lost.

Lessons had been learned the hard way, NEVER EVER challenge Arthur to a friendly wager, as you would be so lucky to leave with more than the socks on your feet. Regardless, the task allocated to him was now shifted to you, unfortunate really, but alas, what were you to do.

You sat at your writing desk burning that good ol midnight oil, clock tick ticking away. Naturally, neither Napoleon nor Isaac wanted to grade the students’ papers as that would be too biased—or that was the lame excuse they used—but you knew the truth.

Not that you minded this kind of work, it reminded you of your part-time job back home, the fond memories washing over you of helping out lecturers and students alike.

But this, this was different, this was hell! You must have read the first paper over and over, hells if you could only understand what was written. Chemistry, math, and the theory of relativity. Just how old were these kids, heck you studied these subjects at a university level and still, the words seemed like gibberish?

After the third paper, you were practically banging your head on the table in frustration; the least they could have done was given you a decent memo to follow. Losing all hope and succumbing to the darkness, it appeared as though the universe had heard your silent prayers and sent to you your very own ray of sunshine.

The soft knocks at the door were like a God sent, with Vincent peeking into your room, gentle blue eyes finding your own, ”oh, if you’re busy, I can always come back later,” his soft voice spoke with hints of hopefulness. 'NO NO NO, don’t leave me alone with these papers. I might just go mad', you wanted to shout out in desperation, but instead, you shot a weak smile over in his direction, gesturing for him to come inside.

“Nah, I’m just grading these papers, but if you are not busy, I’d love the company,” you offered, hoping, nay, praying he would stay. It had been a while since the two of you had spent some time together, with him being busy with painting and you, well, we all know Sabastian is a slave driver.

You mentally danced for joy when Vincent indeed did take up residence beside you, curious china blues gazing at the papers sprawled before you. “Need some help?” he offered, picking up one of the papers to examine the contents.

“How much do you know about maths and science?” you prompted

Vincent scratched the back of his neck, blue eyes never once losing their sparkle. ”Nothing! But I’m willing to learn or help out any way I can,” he affirmed cheerfully, tilting his head to the side, trying to decipher the string of numbers and letters.

His sunny features clouded over the longer he looked at the paper, and you could tell he was just as much out of his depth as you were.

Just then, an idea popped into your head, ”oh, I know! How about I mark, and you count them up and write the final score!”

“I can do that!!” he exclaimed happily, clouds dispersing and sunshine illuminating the room once more.

And so you marked and Vincent... drew?

You watched Vincent from the corner of your eyes, counting up the marks and charting them down in a little circle. His brows furrowed in concentration, voice barely above a whisper, letting go of a little sigh, “oh, this won’t do.” Honestly, his hands moved to their own accord sketching out cute little doodles next to the circled score.

You noticed he had been taking a while with each test handed to him, but you assumed he just double/triple checked his counting and final tallying of the scores. Not thinking much of it at the time, it was only after the last test was marked and handed off to him that your eyes dared to drift across the table to see what he was up to.

They widened slightly in surprise as you struggled to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Cent? What are you drawing,” came the curious question, after watching him doodle out the smiling sunflower with the words’ Good Job’ neatly written beneath

Vincent’s face bloomed into a bright smile as he proudly held up the newest motivational doodle, “well,” he started to trail off, “you know how some of the students did really badly?”

You nodded, humming thoughtfully as you urged him to continue,” I just thought it would make them sad to see they did so terribly, so I decided a little sketch might cheer them up.”

Oooh, bless his little angel heart, for only Vincent could be so sweet. You smiled back at him, eyes falling to each of the papers to take in the various little motivational sketches and messages left for the students to find. Although soon, your eyes found one test in particular that piqued your interest.

A test in which the student managed to score a near-perfect score, you held up the paper in confusion, “but, what about this one?”

“Ah, well, you see, I thought it would make the students who achieved top scores happy to receive a little sketch in acknowledgement of their hard work,” he continued to beam with pride.

You chuckled, shaking your head, “so what you’re saying is everybody gets a doodle?”

“Jip”

You almost had to laugh; it reminded you so very much of an Oprah show. You get a sketch; you get a sketch; everybody gets a sketch. “You are honestly too cute, Vincent,” you beamed at him, collecting the paper into a neat pile, shaking your head with a chuckle.

Vincent returned your smile with a sunny one of his own, taking your hand in his and squeezing it affectionately. “You are the cute one,” he said in all seriousness, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.

You rested your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and simply enjoying the moment. After a few seconds, you peeked your eyes open to gaze up at him, “hey, vincent? Thanks so much for helping.”

With a brush of his soft lips against your forehead, he spoke tenderly, closing his eyes as he reaffirmed his love for you. “I promised you, didn’t I? Whenever there is a problem, I will always be there to help find a solution together.”

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 1 - Meet the Players

Marinette originally came to the IKEA an hour outside of Gotham to buy twinkle lights for her new living room. She eventually extended her trip into obtaining new dishes since all she had right now was empty takeout containers she kept rewashing. She would have been very content getting what she needed and being on her way, (no, she wasn't lonely Plagg, she had two dozen mini-gods to keep her company, shut up) but halfway between the bedding and lights sections, Marinette’s life changed forever. 

For the better, if she was being honest. 

She never would have realized it if she hadn’t ducked into a showroom to test out a couch. She settled against the fluffy folds, knowing it would be destroyed within minutes if she ever brought it home when she noticed him. A boy, no man, about her age, hiding behind a desk looking for all the world as if he were plotting world domination or someone’s demise. 

They looked at each other in shock for a moment. 

“Are… are you ok-”

“Shhh!” his green eyes narrowed, and boy, Marinette had been on the receiving end of death glares before, but this one had to take the cake. 

“Sorry,” she whispered. 

He rolled his eyes. “Do you see a group of dark-haired obnoxious idiots out there?” he asked. 

The request was an odd one, but Marinette rose from the couch and glanced around outside of the showroom. She didn’t see anyone fitting his description. She shook her head. 

He smirked. “My idiot older brothers dragged me along for a “family bonding experience”." He made the little quotation marks, and Marinette never thought anyone could look cool doing that, but somehow this person nailed it. "Tt. I’ve successfully avoided them for an hour. Didn’t know when the coast would be clear though.” He rose gracefully from the ground, looking all the more like a prince, rather than a crazy person hiding from his family. 

It was absurd. 

Marinette found herself instantly amused. 

“I have friends exactly like that, I totally get it,” she said, thinking how Adrian would be beside himself when she told him the story later. The pang of loneliness that had been present since she’d left her friends in Paris, for college in America re-emerged. She shook her head of the maudlin thoughts. 

The Kwamis would have had a field day with this idea too, thankfully she had left them in her severely under-furnished apartment for the day in order to avoid the squabbling that came with only taking a few of them out of the house.  

Marinette looked back out at the hallway again, wondering if the man's brothers would soon appear, finding herself invested in what would happen. “What are you going to do now?” 

“Well, Drake has the keys, and those idiots will be at their shenanigans till the store closes, so…” he shrugged. 

“Are they like… furnishing a whole house?” Marinette didn’t know how you could spend an entire day here. Sure, it was big, but… 

“No. We’re engaged in a no holds barred game of hide-and-seek.” Marinette’s mouth dropped open. “If one of them catches me I become the seeker.” 

“Why?” 

He smirked, “Because I’ve held out the longest.” 

"No, I mean, why are you playing hide-and-seek?" It seemed an odd choice for a bunch of adults. Well, Marinette and her friends would do it. But they also willing became superheroes at the age of fourteen so their judgment was already in question.   

He shrugged. "My oldest brother thought it would be fun, and our father is... out of town at the moment," he said with a bit of hesitation. 

“So, you’re just going to hide in this showroom till the store closes?” 

A devious smile spread across the man’s handsome features. “No. I intend to troll them. If Grayson wants my participation, I'm going to make him regret it.” 

It was at that moment she crossed the point of no return, not that Marinette knew it yet.

Throwing away any idea of finishing her shopping today she returned his smirk. “Any chance I could join you in your crusade?” 

The guy looked her over suspiciously. “Why should I allow a stranger to join me and potentially ruin my chances at victory?” 

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, your brothers know you well?” He nodded. “Then they likely know what you’ll do to avoid and troll them. You need a fresh perspective. Plus, I can operate out in the open, I’m not officially a part of the game.” 

“Hmm...” his face was impassive; Marinette couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You make some good points, but I’m not fully convinced.” 

Marinette huffed, “I also grew up in Paris without being akumatized.” 

He looked at her oddly. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Paris had a terrorist for five years that turned people into monsterized versions of themselves if they felt negative feelings. They were called Akuamas. Everyone in my class had it happen to them at least once. More for some particularly loose cannons.” 

The guy looked bewildered. “Why didn’t anyone hear about this?” 

Marinette shrugged, trying to play off her knowledge as what a normal civilian would know. “Combination of corrupt politicians, social media blackouts, and magic. People died during these attacks, but everything was put to rights at the end of every fight due to the superheroes powers.” 

His mouth dropped, but he recovered quickly looking contemplative. “I want to know more about this at a later time, but if what you say is true you can control yourself better than the average peon. But my brothers and I are a combination of street orphans, circus brats, gymnastics freaks, and geniuses - are you sure you can keep up?” 

Marinette nearly laughed at his description but managed to keep a straight face. “Positive.” 

“Alright, I'll do whatever it takes to win.” He offered her his hand. “I’m Damian.” 

She took it, feeling a slight shock as her fingers touched his. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you, Damian.” 

“You won’t be saying that soon enough,” he said with a slight smirk. He looked over her shoulder. “Shit.” He dove beneath the desk he’d been hiding behind earlier. “Tall guy with the white streak in his hair.” Marinette turned to look. “Don’t make it too obvious,” he hissed. 

Marinette grabbed her phone and leaned against the desk. With small side glances, she saw a man probably mid to late twenties with two-toned hair. He wore a leather jacket and seemed to be searching for something, or someone. 

“Who’s that?” she asked quietly. 

“Second oldest brother, Jason Todd - arguably the most and least dangerous.” 

“Why both?” 

“He did not want to participate initially, so he’s reluctant, but at the same time, he hates losing.  He’ll hang on to the bitter end. More resourceful than the other two, and more violent, although less sophisticated.” 

Jason moved closer to their showroom. 

“Hush, he’s headed this way,” she whispered. Damian remained quiet and Marinette tried to make herself look busy. 

“Quick question miss?” Marinette glanced up from her phone. Jason stood at the entrance to the showroom. 

“Oh, uh, oui? Non, non, I mean yes?” Marinette said in an exaggerated accent, playing into the oblivious tourist stereotype always came in handy. 

“Oh French, shit, haven’t spoken that in a while,” he muttered. “Um...” 

“Non, it iz okay, I speak English well. Can I help you?” She batted her eyes just a bit. Marinette had long since grown from the days of not using all her advantages - courtesy of forced confidence from Chole. A friendship no one had seen coming but had grown quick and strong once they reached an understanding. 

“Oh, I’m looking for my little brother, about yay high, black hair, green eyes, permanent scowl. Have you seen him?” 

Marinette pretended to think for a second. “Non... I do not theenk so, perhaps help desk at zee front?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jason said, Marinette could see he had already written her off as useless. “Thanks, anyway.” He walked away quickly. 

There was a minute of silence. “Coast is clear,” said Marinette once Jason was out of sight. 

Damian popped up, a gleam in his eyes. “Your lying skills are adequate; we may just win this yet.” 

“I’m glad to meet such high approval, monsieur. Let’s get going.” 

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 

Chapter 4

[cjsinkythoughts]

A History Lesson

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4741

Warnings: Vulgar language, I think that’s it (it’s mainly fluff like Bucky’s)

Summary: You never were fond of history...but if history gives you a man like that? Maybe you could deal with it.

A/N: Here it is! A little later than I had hoped, but my brother is visiting, it was his birthday this week, work’s been a bit hectic, and I ended up writing a little something for Bucky’s birthday on Wednesday, which I didn’t mean to. I got it done, though! First Date with our dear Cap’n Spangles! I have all the First Date ideas for the other Avengers lined up, but I think I’m gonna put this on hiatus for now. I’m gonna try focusing on my College!AU at the moment. If you guys want, I’ll share my First Date plans, though. If I find time, I’ll write the next one. If you haven’t noticed, I have a fondness for collages, so I might do what I’m doing for my College!AU Project and make collages for the other First Dates before writing them. Anyways, enough with my ramblings. Enjoy the date!

You keep checking the clock, waiting for this lecture to be done. You typically enjoy school, but history isn’t a strong suit for you. You try in history, you really do, but all the information - the dates, people, places - it’s too much. You constantly mix things up, no matter how hard you study. And you don’t really get the hype. Who cares what these dead guys did? It happened, it’s done, and it’s time to move on.

“That’s all for today! Don’t forget your papers are due on Monday! You’re dismissed!”

You let out a groan at the mention of the cursed research paper. You had stayed up for hours the previous nights working on it, but so far you have squat. The essay is on the Second World War (more specifically the differences of life between Americans and Europeans at the time), and you know you should’ve done it when it was given a week ago, but your shitty memory makes it difficult to write a paper without five million textbooks in front of you and you don’t have time to go to the library every night between work, friends, and other projects. So, you haven’t done it yet.

Exhausted, mentally and physically, you collect your things and head out of the lecture hall. You pull out your phone to text your friends, telling them you have to work on a paper tonight and you can’t meet up for dinner like you all usually do on Fridays. Deciding to take a breather before working, you start out to the bench overlooking the Potomac River, which you always sat at to relax and just…be. The scenic walk through DC and the sight of the steady river flowing besides the busy city always calms you. 

You sit there for a few moments, letting the slight breeze chill the skin that’s warmed by the sun, listening to it ruffle the trees. The blush pink blossoms that appear when Spring sings her song and chases away Winter flutter to the newly grown, bright green grass below. You enjoy all the seasons, unable to help but love the unique beauty each brings, and Spring is no exception, despite the allergies and tests she brings.

And speaking of tests…

A soft sigh passes your lips as you get out your laptop. You might as well start writing, or at least researching, that paper. You never were good at relaxing when there’s work to be done.

You’re so engrossed in getting the stupid essay done and over with that you don’t notice the jogger who pauses in his run by the very bench you are slaving away on. “Savin’ this seat for anyone?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. Go ahead.” You answer distractedly, not even looking up from your screen as the owner of the deep voice sits besides you.

A few more minutes pass in comfortable silence, before you ruin it with a grumble and delete half the paragraph you just wrote. “That doesn’t make sense.” You change tabs to look over the information on the page you have pulled up again, only to furrow your eyebrows. You’re pretty sure the information is wrong. You may have a shitty memory, but you’re sure that the information given on this page is in contrast to the information given in the book you were reading a couple days ago.

“What’re you workin’ so hard on there, honey?”

You let out a huff, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. “Some dumb research paper for school! It’s on World War Two, and I can’t remember what’s right and what’s wrong and it’s a stupid topic anyways that my stupid teacher assigned! Who fucking cares about a hundred years ago? And how the hell am I supposed to know this? I wasn’t alive! You know what I…”

The words die on your tongue as you finally glance over at the stranger keeping you company.

Blonde hair that seems gold with the way the sun is hitting the strands, which are damp and in slight disarray due to his exercise. Bright blue eyes reflecting the sky above, hidden beneath long lashes that you’re immediately envious of. Pretty pink lips, matching the cherry blossoms on the trees surrounding you, pulling up into an amused sort of smile. The makings of a beard lining his jaw and littering his cheeks.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. You just ranted about how stupid history is to Captain fucking America. You just ranted about how you have to write a dumb essay on World War Two to Captain fucking America.

Ignoring the way your body heats up, starting in your toes and climbing up your legs, chest, and neck to reach the tips of your ears, a nervous little chuckle is all you can give. You clear your throat, trying to think of how to apologize. “I guess you wouldn’t know what I mean, huh?”

What in the ever loving fuck was that? That was not an apology!

You clear your throat and try again. “I-I mean…sorry. It’s not - I didn’t mean-”

“No, no. It’s fine, sweetheart.” The grin he shoots you makes you glad you aren’t standing up, knowing full well your knees would’ve buckled if you were. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he shakes his head before you can speak. “Really. It’s okay. I get it. I used to be a student too. And you’re right; it was a long time ago and there’s a lot of things that happened. Even I have a hard time keeping track of everything that went down.”

You merely blink at him, nodding slowly. Say something. For the love of God, please just say something. Anything! “Yeah. I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning.” Really? You’re sitting besides the one and only Captain America and that’s what you decide to say?

You feel yourself slump your shoulders slightly, trying to shrink down into absolute nothingness. But even that wouldn’t work because he’s got that friend of his that could shrink and he’d find you. It seems that you were destined to be embarrassed in front of one of the most beautiful human beings on the planet. Screw the universe.

Instead of teasing you or embarrassing you further, he chuckles and nods in agreement, his eyes lighting up. “You’re not the only one. My pal Clint has got the absolute worst memory. We tease him all the time for it. How he became an agent with the memory of a goldfish, I’ll never know.” You laugh at that, your muscles relaxing and your anxiety easing up.

“Yeah, well, I’ve gotta get through college before I’m in the clear.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Uh…so, a World War Two paper, huh? Need some help? I’m kind of an expert on the topic.”

Breath hitching as he scoots closer, you swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t want to bother you. You look like you’re in the middle of a run.” You gesture to the tight ass t-shirt hugging his torso that you’re sure is sizes too small for him and the joggers hanging off his hips.

Following your gesture, he looks down, before shaking his head. “Nah. I’ve already ran a few more miles than I was going to today.”

“Are-are you sure?”

There’s that grin again. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive him tutoring you if he keeps  giving you that adorable toothy smile. “Honest. I’ve got the rest of the day. We can go to the library if you want. Or we can stay here. Whatever works best for you. I don’t mind either way.”

You blink again, like an idiot, as you process his words. Whatever works best for you. What a gentleman. “Uhh…I was about to head to the library anyways, but I really don’t want to bother you-”

“Trust me, honey. It’d be my pleasure.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

You let out a soft laugh and nod at his insistence, starting to pack up your things. “Okay. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You stand up as he does and offer your hand.

“Steve. But I guess you figured that out.” Taking your hand, you expect him to shake it, but he squeezes it softly and brings it to his lips instead.

Clearing your throat, you tease him a bit to hide your bashfulness at his actions. “You’re a real gentleman, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a slight smirk, gently dropping your hand and letting it go after another squeeze. “My momma raised nothing less.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud.”

His playful eyes go slightly more somber at that, his smirk morphing into a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Giving no reply, you smile softly and nod your head to the path. He nods back before quickly falling into step besides you, asking you more about your paper as you walk to the library.

* * * * * * * *

Giggling behind your hand to stay quiet, or at least attempt to since you both had already been berated by the librarians for being too loud, your attention is once again diverted to Steve and his stories.

It started out fine; he helped you find reliable books and told you which things were true. But not even half an hour passed before Steve told you a story about the Howling Commandos after something in a book reminded him of it. Your concentration since then has been split between your paper and Steve’s retelling of his past.

“Sorry. I keep distracting you. What’s next?”

You snicker again and shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m almost done anyways. I’ve actually written down a few things you said, if you don’t mind me using them. My professor can’t exactly argue with Captain America, now can he?”

His lips pull up and his shoulders shake in silent laughter. “I guess not. Of course I don’t mind. You can quote me anytime. See?” He nudges you with his shoulder playfully. “History isn’t so bad.”

“Not when you’re telling it.” You respond earnestly, grinning up at him.

“Eh, Bucky’s always been a better storyteller than me.” He gives a little shrug and rubs the back of his neck.

You shake your head at his modesty. “Well I think you do just fine. You’re the first person to get me interested in history. Hey, can you read this over for me? I just need to finalize this paragraph and do the conclusion.”

When you receive silence as an answer, you look over at the blonde with an eyebrow raised. The ocean eyes scanning over you make you a bit self conscious, so you shift slightly in your seat, making him come back from whatever thoughts overtook his mind. “Sorry. Of course I can, honey. That’s what I’m here for. Let me see.”

He gives you a few pointers on what to add and what to get rid of, before you finally finish, saving your work and closing your laptop with a huff. 

“What a mind workout. I’m sure my brain’s got abs now.”

Heads swivel towards you two as Steve guffaws, a lady a few tables down shushing him. He apologizes, still snickering. “Abs, huh?”

“I mean, not as good as yours but…” You freeze, inwardly facepalming. And you were doing so well.

He gives you a cheeky grin. “I’ve got good abs?”

“Oh don’t give me that!” You hiss out quietly. “You know you have good abs. I’m just stating facts is all.”

Another soft chuckle leaves those pretty lips and he twists in his seat to crack his back before standing to collect the books you both got out. “When’s the paper due again?”

You stand to help him, but you get a case of the butterfingers just as you go to pick the books up, making the pile tumble to the floor. “Ah shit.” Steve smiles gently at you as you huff and give him an exasperated look. “My bad.”

He snickers, bending down to help you despite having his own books to carry, like the gentleman he is. “So? Due date?”

“Monday.” You answer with a sigh, straightening up. You carefully set the books on the table to pile them better. “We should get the grade back by Friday.”

He hums, taking a few more books in those strong arms of his. “Ah, well, you’ll get a good grade. I believe in you.”

You smirk at him as you shift your bag so you could carry books under your arms. “I’m sure I will with your help, Captain.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes at your teasing manner. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Of course. I had a good time.” He sends that stunning smile your way and this time you are standing. Luckily you have a table to lean on casually instead of falling on your face. “Plus, now you’ve got a free weekend.”

“Ugh. I wish.” You shake your head. “This is my final semester before I graduate. There’s loads to do. But this makes it easier.” Heading through the aisles of the library, you catch sight of the time on a clock on the wall and your eyes widen. You’d been there for a little over three hours! “Damn! I’m sorry I took up your Friday, though. I’m sure there’s things you want to do before you have to go back to New York, huh?”

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he runs a hand through his golden locks and drops the books he had in his arms on the desk for returns. “Not really. I’m here for the next couple weeks, actually. Meetings and stuff. Plus, it doesn’t even take me an hour to get here, so I can really come whenever I want.”

“That’s nice.” You follow his lead and set your books down, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I wish I could go to New York whenever I want. I’m way too poor for that.”

He chuckles again. You’ll never get tired of the sound of his laughter. “I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

You shrug half heartedly, not really believing him. You’re barely making it in DC. There’s no way you could make it in the Big Apple. “Sure. Someday. I’m serious, though. I’m sorry you wasted  your time with some stressed out college student instead of enjoying time with your friends.”

“I’m serious too, honey. It’s no problem; I enjoyed it. And it’s not a waste of my time. Not as long as you get a good grade.”

You laugh as the two of you head out of the building, stopping on the steps and facing each other. “How will you know if I get a good grade?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Meet me at the bench next Friday.” He finally said, his eyes sparkling. “Then we’ll see. Until then, Y/N.”

You grin, taking the large hand he offers you, firmly shaking it before he can kiss your knuckles, making him snicker. “Until then, Steve.”

* * * * * * * *

Feet pounding against the concrete, you practically jump when you spot the man already sitting at the bench. “Steve!” You shout happily, waving your paper in the air. The blonde shoots up, a brow raised in curiosity. “I got a 97!”

You come to a halt in front of him, but it’s too quick, so your clumsy feet trip over each other. Before you can fall, he catches you with ease, smiling down at you in amusement. Small pants leave your lips as sweat trickles down your spine. Where’s that breeze when you need it?

“Uhm…oops?” What the hell was that?! That was embarrassing, that’s what it was!

He chuckles, straightening you up. “You were saying?” 

With pride lifting up the corners of your mouth, you shove the paper at his chest, once again grateful that he ignored your blunderings. “97%!”

“I told you you’d be fine. And I knew it wasn’t a waste of my time.” Steve looks up from the paper to give you a toothy grin.

“Thank you again.” You take the paper he hands back to you and shove it in your bag. “I probably would’ve failed the class without this grade. Is there really nothing I can do to pay you back for your time?”

He taps his chin in faux-thought, before tilting his head innocently. “You can loan me some of your time on Sunday.”

You purse your lips, confusion written over your features. “My time? On Sunday? Oh!” You light up, figuring he just needs help with something. “Yeah, duh. Okay. What do you need help with? I can promise I’ll try my hardest, but I might not-”

“No, no. Honey, that’s not-” he laughs, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to make you stop rambling. “I’m askin’ you out.”

“Out?” You pause, registering what that meant. “Like…on a date?” Is he serious? There’s no way he wants to go on a date with you. You pretty much called his life story boring, to his face, and then made him spend three hours on a Friday evening at the library working on a college paper with you.

He snickers with a nod. “Yes, on a date. So whaddya say, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You blurt out without thinking, before you shy back, feeling yourself heat up as you tend to do around this God of a man. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d love to. Sunday. I can do that.”

He beams adorably, like a child being allowed to buy his favorite candy bar. Or a puppy with his favorite toy. Yeah…he reminds you of a puppy. Which only makes him that much cuter.

“Awesome! Meet me here at noon. Does that work?”

You nod vigorously. “That works perfectly.”

“Perfect.” He repeats, before taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips once more.

* * * * * * * *

You’re sitting on the bench, tapping your toes nervously and checking your phone every minute. He said noon and it’s only eleven thirty. It’s a bit inconvenient, to say the least, when the place you go to relax is the place you’re meeting the person making you anxious. You could barely sleep the previous night, too many doubts lingering in your head. You seem to always be making a fool of yourself in front of him, but he was the one who asked you out, so that had to count for something.

You try not to think too hard about it, instead thinking back to last Friday in the library and how his features lifted when he told stories of his childhood and the Howling Commandos and the grin he got when he told you about the things they used to do that would get them in trouble.

“But I’m Captain America, and who’s gonna say no to this face?”

A little giggle leaves your lips as you remember his words, before you’re startled back to reality as a familiar smooth voice sounds besides you.

“Whatcha giggling at, honey?”

You whip over to see Steve grinning in amusement, leaning on the back of the bench. Your eyes drag down his figure. Another too tight t-shirt showing every ridge and curve on his torso, a jacket over his broad shoulders along with a casual pair of jeans. You had seen a meme about Steve having the proportions of a Dorito and, looking at him now, you can see how true it was. It almost makes you laugh again, but you remember what exactly is happening, and you suddenly can’t find anything funny.

“Sweetheart? You alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes. Yeah. I’m fine. I was just…thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking and leaning his forearms against the back of the bench next to where you’re sat. “And those adorable little giggles?”

There’s that familiar flush that you’ve learned to ignore, praying to God he didn’t notice your heart skipping a beat. “Uh, I just remembered something. That’s all.”

He gives a little hum, before hopping over the back and landing besides you. “Seems like we both had the same idea. Gettin’ here early.”

“If you must know, I was just…” You shrug. “To be honest, I’m a little anxious.”

“I’m not that scary, am I?” He teases, nudging you gently.

You roll your eyes and give him a look. “I don’t think there’s a bone in your body capable of being scary. I’m just…I’m nervous I’m gonna embarrass myself…again.”

Steve shakes his head, looking at you earnestly. “You’re not gonna embarrass yourself.”

Picking at the hem of your shirt, you scoff, shaking your head. “I already have. The amount of times I’ve tripped or said something stupid or rambled, which I’m doing right now, or-”

“Honey, honey. Slow down.” The blonde chuckles. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find all of those things endearing. Now, the amount of times I’ve seen my teammates slip and fall on their faces while chasing an enemy? That’s embarrassing. Just the other day, Buck tripped on the roof of a car. Sam has it recorded.”

You let out a laugh at that and nod. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all insecure on you-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Steve insists. “Now,” he stands and offers his hand. “Let’s go get some lunch, yeah?”

You look at his hand before looking up at him and taking it without hesitation. “Okay.”

* * * * * * * *

After rounds of questions during lunch, Steve took you around the Smithsonian to all the different museums. Just like history, you had never been overly fond of museums. You typically walked around for a little bit, never really reading the information, only enjoying the pictures.

It’s different with Steve. Just like how it was different writing the research paper with him. He makes everything interesting, telling you his own facts and stories. Especially once you get to his exhibit in the Air and Space Museum.

Once you arrive, he puts on a hat and ducks his head, trying not to bring attention to you both while on a date. You tease him a bit, swinging your linked hands as you walk in with a cheeky grin. He nudges you with his elbow, his own smile painted on his lips.

You can’t help but listen and hold onto his every word, as if you’d die if you forget a single sentence. The light in his eyes as he talks about his past, showing you the pictures and plaques excitedly. Like a child during show and tell, he’s practically skipping from exhibit to exhibit, dragging you along behind him.

Giggling at his elation, you eagerly, and with no resistance, let him take you through his story. “They keep updating it.” He explains as you leave the area with World War Two and the Howling Commandos, entering through a corridor with modern pictures of him and the Avengers. “Every couple years or so they call me and tell me they’re adding another thing.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying?” You wonder, reading a wall about the Battle of Manhattan with interest. “Your whole life being put on display for everyone to see?”

Steve shrugs. “I dunno. I’ve never really minded. They don’t put in personal things, so it’s not too bad. You could learn more from the internet about me.”

You nod, knowing how true that really was. “You’ve got a point. Still. It must be a bit weird being a national icon.”

“I’ll admit, people stopping me on the street is getting a little old. I used to wish to be someone who changed the world. Now I have and sometimes I wish I could be normal. But I wouldn’t change what I’ve done. Who I am. Not if people can learn from it. Not if I can keep people safe.”

Turning away from the wall to glance at Steve, who has his hands in his pockets studying the wall, you smile and tilt your head. “You’re a good man, Steve Rogers.”

He turns to you, his lips pulling up. “That’s all I hope for.” His voice is quiet, earnest, before it becomes lighter as he gestures back to the wall. “You know the first thing we did after winning was go out for shawarma? It was Tony’s idea.”

“No way.” You laugh. “All six of you?”

“Yeah! We go there for every Battle of Manhattan Anniversary, now. I’ll take you some time. It’s a nice place.”

“Is that a promise?”

He smirks at your teasing tone. “Absolutely.”

* * * * * * * *

After your museum hopping, he takes you to Arlington Cemetery to show you a few friends and fellow soldiers he met all those years ago. It’s such a personal intimate thing that he shares, and you think you shouldn’t be there to witness it, but he’s quick to reassure you that’s not the case. That he wouldn’t have anyone else by his side, listening to his stories.

By the time you get back to the city, it’s getting dark, so you two head out for dinner before Steve takes you up the Washington Monument to look at the city lights. He makes sure you have the top all to yourselves; there’s perks of being an Avenger - especially one of the leaders.

“Alright, alright.” Leaning on the rail, you turn to him with a smile. “So maybe history isn’t as bad as I originally thought.”

“Yeah? I convinced you, did I?”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Maybe a bit. But only when you’re telling it. You think there’s any way you could come to history with me?” You joke with a laugh, feeling yourself flush at the chuckle and grin he gives you.

“I wish I could, honey.” He spoke softly, running a thumb over your knuckles. “Unfortunately, I’ve got work to do. I’m heading back to New York tomorrow. I’ll be back on Friday, though. If you would want to-”

You beam and nod energetically. “I’d love to go out again, Stevie.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he beams back. “Fantastic.” He looks back out to the window and gives a little sigh. “It’s gettin’ late and you’ve got class tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I should probably get going. Do you, I mean, would you mind walking me home?” You blink up at him through your lashes hopefully.

“Of course!” His eyes - which you found throughout the day weren’t entirely blue, but had some green hues to them - lit up as you two start towards the elevator. He tucks you under his strong arm, pulling you close. “You wanna get ice cream or something on the way?”

“You read my mind, Captain.”

* * * * * * * *

By the time you reach your door, you’ve both finished your ice cream and he’s telling yet another story while you laugh, once again swinging your linked hands. 

When it comes time to say goodbye, you can’t help but wish your hand could stay in his for a while longer. Knowing that you’d be saying farewell, you hold on a bit tighter. “Pick me up on Friday?”

He nods, squeezing your hand before letting it go and brushing his fingertips along your cheek. “I’ll call you later too, alright, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” You agree eagerly. “You gonna kiss me goodnight now, soldier?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles softly, before gently grabbing your chin. Using his other hand, he pulls you closer by the waist, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet and perfect, just like him, but it ends too quickly for your liking. He pulls back, nudging his nose against yours, and murmuring against your lips. “Sleep well.”

You smile, leaning your forehead against his. “Good night, Stevie.”

Stepping away, he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “G’night.”

You stop him before he could turn all the way. “Steve?” He pauses to look over his shoulder at you with an eyebrow raised. You have a question, and you can’t help but ask it, it having been on your mind for days. “Why’d you stop your run just to sit by me?”

“And leave a beautiful dame like yourself before I could get your name? I may be a super soldier, honey, but I’m still a man. Abyssinia Friday, Y/N.”

[k-s-morgan]

The Evolution of Will Graham’s Darkness

This meta is mostly written for new viewers who find themselves confused by Will as a character. I’ll incorporate some bits of analysis I’ve written before into it. Let’s start with a thesis of a sort: Will is a dark character who had this darkness from the very start, even before his encounter with Hannibal: he was terrified and disgusted with it, but after meeting Hannibal, slowly, he began to embrace himself, getting bolder and bolder in his violence.

**Before the show**  

Will initially tried to get into the FBI but he didn’t pass the tests. It’s revealed in E1 of S1 when he’s ambushed by Beverly.

Beverly: Never been an F.B.I. Agent?

Will: Strict screening procedures.

Beverly: Detects instability. You’re unstable?

At the same time, Will became a police officer, working in the Homicide department. These decisions show that he's been stubbornly and rather hopelessly drawn to darkness, seeking ways to interact with it while remaining on the side of law. However, he had to leave the police, too, because he was incapable of pulling the trigger even when his life depended on it. He preferred to allow himself to get stabbed rather than to fight back and kill someone, which points to him having very serious issues with his violence. He knew that once the door in him opens, it might not close again, that if he kills or harms another person, he might be unable to stop (this is proven when he shoots Hobbs and then immediately tries to kill Stammets).

And still, Will chooses to stay close to darkness, only in safer ways. He becomes a teacher in the FBI Academy, letting himself delve into the ugliest cases from a theoretical perspective. This constant pull and struggle leave Will lonely and hostile to everyone. He avoids eye contact with people; Jack’s first impression of him was that he’s rude and arrogant (when they clashed about the name of the museum). Will is rude and haughty with his students, too – but more about it later. Alana refuses to stay alone in the room with him, thinking his instability is too fascinating and she might want to dissect it. Will has no friends; he lives in isolation with his dogs, someone who would never judge him. There are a lot of rumors about him going around, and most people don’t like him (based on Price’s and Zeller’s initial reactions as well as their later conversations on this topic). Will is lonely and pretty miserable.

S1

The first real words we hear from Will are:

Will: Everyone has thought about killing someone.

It is very demonstrative of his personality. We also get evidence right here that Will is drawn to darkness primarily, not to the idea of saving lives (although the latter helps him feel better about his urges). He delves into the minds of killers even when he isn’t involved in the investigation. He had no other reason to explore the Marlows’ murder like he did at the start of the episode, when he was simply teaching students. It’s proof that he willingly craves contact with violent and disturbed minds — it’s not like he actually tries to solve this case for real, he just imagined himself there.

Will’s first conversation with Hannibal speaks volumes about who he is — because Hannibal senses it seconds after meeting him.

Hannibal: Do you have trouble with taste?

Will: My thoughts are often not tasty.

Hannibal: Nor mine. No effective barriers.

Will: I make forts.

This exchange has Will confess that his thoughts are often dark and that he dislikes it. To hold this darkness at bay, he literally builds forts around it, not letting it spread to other parts of his mind.

Hannibal: Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.

Hannibal almost directly calls Will out on his struggle with his inner darkness. He’s saying that he sees it, that he knows it’s there, in Will, in his mind, and Will is very disturbed by this — because Hannibal is right. The script even explicitly backs it up:

Hannibal has just described Will Graham to a letter.

Will is immediately wary and hostile, and he ends the conversation with snappy,

Will: Please don’t psychoanalyze me. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed.

What does it mean? It’s simple: Will assumes that Hannibal is a typical psychiatrist who wants to dissect him, so he says that once it happens, Hannibal won’t like what he finds (darkness and ugliness Will carries inside).

His hostility to Hannibal lasts up until the moment when Hannibal acknowledges him as a predator and shows approval of it. This is how it happens: Hannibal tries to subtly tell him that it’s all right to be who he is, hinting that they are the same.

Hannibal: You and I are just alike. Problem free. Nothing about us to feel horrible about.

He’s obviously talking about their darkness, but Will doesn’t react, so Hannibal continues. He tells him that Jack views him as a fragile tea cup, and Will genuinely laughs, amused by this (which is also very telling). Then Hannibal says:

Hannibal: [I see you as the] mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by.

Will grows quiet after this, and then his interactions with Hannibal become much more relaxed. Will takes him to search the property and even bothers to explain how they reached their conclusions and what they are about to do. Him grumbling, “What are you smiling at?” shows a much higher level of familiarity they now share. Something in Hannibal’s words made Will open up a bit, and everything indicates that it’s the acknowledgement of his predatory nature that played its part in it.

Will kills Hobbs by shooting him 10 times. This is his first kill, one he’s been trying to avoid for so long, ever since his police work. It’s not surprising that Hobbs haunts him later because his death became a breaking point for Will. A door did open in him, and he was unable to close it again.

In E2, Will is distraught. But first, we get a glimpse into how rude and insensitive he generally is. Look at how he treats his students. He tersely thanks them for clapping and then snaps for them to stop. He devises a little malicious test for them.

Will: It’s [Hobbs’] resignation letter. Anybody see the clue?

A few hands go into the air. Will ignores them.

Will: There isn’t one.

He looks so long-suffering with them, as if they are idiots. The fact that he asks a question, waits for people to think and raise their hands, and only then he tells them there is actually no answer is petty at best. He also admits to Jack that he doesn’t consider lessons socialization because he doesn’t have to actually talk to students, he talks at them. Not good for a teacher or even for a person who works with other people like this.

But Will has more serious problems. He keeps imagining Hobbs, and after his messy kill, Jack becomes worried about him. He makes Will go visit Hannibal for one-time evaluation. Will is naturally not fond of the idea, but he and Hannibal have a pretty personal talk. Hannibal ends it with an even more explicit hint at Will’s own darkness:

Hannibal: And Will… the mirrors in your mind can reflect the best of yourself, not the worst of someone else.

Hannibal is talking about Will’s personal brand of violence again. He’s trying to tell him that it’s fine to be a murderer in every way he can, that Will’s darkness might be the best part of him. He also gives him a fake official approval to work in the field, showing that Will can trust him. But their obligatory session ends and Will leaves — only to return after he tries to kill Stammets and misses (their talk about it was cut from the episode but is echoed in the conversation below).

Hannibal: [You are here to] prove that sprig of zest you feel is from saving Abigail, not killing her dad.

Will: I didn't feel a sprig of zest when I shot Eldon Stammets.

Hannibal: You didn't kill Eldon Stammets.

Will: I thought about it. I'm still not entirely sure that wasn't my intention when pulling the trigger.

This is a huge evidence of Will struggling with his violence. It proves that he had it before becoming actively involved with Hannibal — all Hannibal did was recognize it and coax it to come to the surface. Will has always been like this, and after finally killing a person, he found himself unable to stop because he liked the feeling too much.

Hannibal: It wasn't the act of killing Hobbs that got you down, was it? Did you really feel so bad because killing him felt so good?*

Will: I liked killing Hobbs.

Hannibal is pleased to receive the confirmation of what he sensed in Will. Seeing that Will is terrified about his own confession, he comforts him.

Hannibal: Killing must feel good to God, too. He does it all the time, and are we not created in his image?

Let’s be honest, every sane person would have run for the hills after hearing this. Hannibal literally justifies the fact that Will liked murder by drawing a parallel with God. That’s such a narcissistic, serial killer thing to do, and yet Will welcomes it with open arms. He’s happy to find someone who doesn’t think he’s a monster — he’s relieved to be able to finally discuss his darkest impulses freely. This is the reason why Will started coming back to see Hannibal on a constant basis, to Jack’s surprise.

The next huge proof of Will’s ever-present darkness is found in E5 (actually, every episode has some bits, but I’ll cover only the major ones). The Angel Maker, a killer-of-the-week, has a unique gift of being able to see if a person is good or evil. First, Hannibal tries to tell Will that he doesn’t have to self-destruct because of his darkness like he’s been doing.

Hannibal: Angel Maker will be destroyed by what’s happening inside his head. You don’t have to be.

When Angel Maker dies, Will suddenly sees himself through his eyes. And he sees a demon. He sees himself as evil. It proves that Will’s darkness is inherent since he hasn’t done anything really bad at this point. It also proves that he’s perfectly aware of who he is and the darkness he has. He has the following conversation with the imagined Angel Maker.

Angel Maker: I see what you are.

Will: What do you see?

Angel Maker: Inside. I can bring it out of you.

Will: Not all the way out.

So, Will acknowledges that his darkness is rooted so deeply inside him, it can’t even be extracted fully. It’s an inseparable part of him.

Will is shown admiring the Ripper’s murders, calling them elegant and referring to them as art. Meanwhile, he’s trying to half-heartedly flirt with Alana, but they don’t have a meaningful connection because Will can’t be happy with a person who doesn’t know him. He wants to be normal but he just isn’t. If you’re interested in my opinion about their relationship, it’s here.

Will’s next morally gray action happens when he agrees to cover murder for Hannibal and Abigail in E9. He agrees quickly and then he’s shown being fiercely devoted to it. He doesn’t seem to care that Abigail killed someone much — in fact, he basically threatens Freddie, another person who sees him for who he is, to make her write a book favorable toward Abigail.

In E13, Hannibal says what he wants from Will directly.

Hannibal: If you followed the urges you kept down for so long, cultivated them as the inspirations they are, you’d become someone other than yourself.

Will remembers this phrase (he later throws it back into Hannibal’s face), but for now, he’s too angry and bitter to listen.

S2

Will is healthy again and he struggles with realization that Hannibal betrayed him. He starts a dark game of his own: he pretends he’s vulnerable, moving Alana to tears in the process, and asks Hannibal for help. He’s still drawn to him, but he also wants to take him down — for himself and for Abigail.

In E1, Hannibal tells Will the purpose of all their past meetings, how they were aimed at helping Will Become.

Hannibal: Our conversations, Will, were only ever about you opening your eyes to the truth of who you are.

Alana tries to hypnotize Will to help him remember what happened.

Alana: Imagine yourself in a safe and relaxing place... safe and secure here, safe to relax completely...

What does Will imagine? He sees Hannibal’s room and them sitting at the murder table together. He’s freaked out by it, but it proves how twisted his perception is: regardless of the betrayal, a part of him understands that Hannibal is the only person who’s ready to accept him, and he feels safe with him. @bloodsmile wrote a great meta about it here.

Will coldly manipulates Beverly, refusing to help her save lives unless she helps him as well. In E5, he engages in yet another manipulation. He gets Matthew Brown to try to kill Hannibal. This is the first premeditated murder attempt Will is responsible for. That is why we see him growing horns, that is why he sees a sink full of blood — his darkness starts progressing in noticeable ways. By E7, Will has figured out that Hannibal really did everything to open his eyes to the truth of who he is and that he wants to be his friend, but as he still wants revenge, he decides to honey-trap him with Jack.

In E8, Will is dealing with his complex feelings for Hannibal and explores his darkness further. He admits that Hannibal made him feel less alone and that he doesn’t hate him, no matter what; that he has no idea what he feels for him. Then Will tries to kill Ingram in cold blood as revenge for Peter. He asks him to pick up the hammer, indicating that he plans for the murder to look like self-defense. Hannibal tries to talk him out of it, but Will still pulls the trigger. It’s by a miraculous accident that Hannibal manages to stop him. This is the second conscious murder attempt by Will.

In E9, Will has a dream about Hannibal, love, and darkness.

Dream Hannibal: Must I denounce myself as a monster while you still refuse to see the one growing inside you?

Meaning: Will is fully aware of both the presence of this monster inside him and his attempts to ignore it since this is his dream.

Dream Hannibal: No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them. By that love we see potential in our beloved. Through that love we allow our beloved to see their potential. Expressing that love, our beloved's potential comes true.

So, a part of Will realizes that Hannibal loves him, and that he really wants him to Become, to realize all his potential.

Will is shown as feeling bitter at Hannibal for not letting him kill Ingram.

Will: I regret what I did in the stables.

Hannibal (thinking Will means murder attempt): Then you were lucky I was there.

Will: Being lucky isn't the same as making a mistake. Mistake was allowing you to stop me.

Hannibal: So it’s not pulling the trigger that you regret. It’s not pulling it effectively.

Will: That would be more accurate.

Hannibal: I want you to close your eyes, Will, and imagine a version of events you wouldn't have regretted.

Will obeys, and he sees himself murdering Ingram. It proves that every word he says to Hannibal is true — he really does regret not killing him. But there is an even creepier dialogue ahead.

Hannibal: What did you see?

Will: A missed opportunity… to feel like I felt when I killed Garret Jacob Hobbs. To feel like I felt when I thought I killed you … a quiet sense of power.

This is disturbing. It proves once again that Will isn’t just a righteous killer, he enjoys the act of murder itself, and like many serial killers, he craves the feeling of power that comes with it.

He and Hannibal talk about the intimacy of murder, how Will was hiding behind a gun when he tried to kill Hannibal back in E5. Will takes note of it. Hannibal, remembering Will’s complaint about a missed opportunity, sends Randall to him as a gift. When Randall breaks into Will’s house, Will is shown thinking and then deliberately throwing the gun away. He doesn’t want to hide this time — he attacks Randall with his bare hands. This isn’t about self-defense or justice, this is about Will trying to experience a more intimate kind of murder. He beats Randall up until he’s incapacitated and then he snaps his neck, even though there was no reason to do it. He could easily call Jack and have Randall arrested at this point (since he was barely conscious and not fighting back). This could help him in his plan to catch Hannibal. But Will isn’t particularly concerned about it, he’s more interested in realizing his darkness.

He takes the body to Hannibal. This moment got deleted, but Will actually had to stick a note to it:

A piece of paper is pinned to his chest. On it is written: "Return to Sender."

Which excellently shows Will’s dark humor. He laughs with Hannibal a little as they talk about murder right above the corpse. Then Hannibal is treating his hands, and he says:

Hannibal: Stay with me.

Will: Where else would I go?

Nowhere — because Will understands that Hannibal is the only person who can understand his darkness and accept him for who he is.

Will: I've never felt more alive than when I was killing him.

This is, once again, huge. Will is a murderer who can get dangerously high on the act. The moment when he felt most alive is the moment when he took a life from another person — and he was vicious about it. Will is very, very dark in these scenes — and it’s going to get worse.

Will mutilates the body and places it in the museum. He keeps Randall’s suit in his house as a trophy, and he keeps his butchered parts of meat in his fridge. In the following discussion, Will confirms that he enjoyed doing all that. When Hannibal suggests that Randall’s killer felt disdain for him in front of Jack, Will disagrees.

Will: He isn't mocking him. This isn't disdain. He's commemorating him.

Hannibal: This killer has no fear for the consequences of what he's done.

Will: No guilt.

Then Will retreats into his mind to talk to Randall’s corpse.

Will: Hello again.

Randall: Come closer … Can you see you?

Will: Clearer and clearer.

This proves Will’s honesty in all his discussions with Hannibal. He really is exploring his violence, not just pretending to do it, coming to the realization of what kind of monster he is.

Will: You forced me to kill you.

Randall: I didn't force you to enjoy it.

This takes place in Will’s head, so every word is genuine.

Will: I gave you what you want. This is who you are. What you feel finally matches the reality of what I see.

Randall: This is my becoming. And yours.

Will shakes his head, this is not his becoming.

Will: This is my design.

So, what do we have here? Will calls murder, mutilation, and storage of Randall’s meat his design. It’s not his Becoming, not yet, Will isn’t ready to fully embrace himself, but this is a start. He understands his design now.

In the same E10, Will attacks Freddie when she discovered his trophies. We know he didn’t kill her, but would he have done it if she hadn’t called Jack? We can only guess. Will sure took his chance to be creepy and physically violent with her. At the end of the episode, he brought Randall’s meat to Hannibal and they cooked as well as ate it together. This was not about getting Hannibal to trust him. Hannibal already did, especially after thinking Will killed Freddie, so there was simply no need for it. Bryan Fuller confirmed Jack had no idea this happened, so Will was acting on his own, out of his genuine curiosity. This is where he willingly became a cannibal.

In E11, Will dreams of burning fake Freddie and hears himself screaming. It’s easy to interpret this dream: he feels guilty for betraying Hannibal. Alana comes by and Will is being deliberately creepy again. He gives her a gun for protection, but later, it almost becomes her undoing. Will is equally creepy during the funeral. He enjoys being dark, and he feels free to act like this because technically, he has an excuse.

In E12, Will is freshly angry at Hannibal. He fantasizes about murdering Hannibal in the most violent way possible. Then he makes three deals. The first one is with Mason: they agree to kill Hannibal together. The second one is with Hannibal: they tentatively agree to target Mason together. The third one is with Jack: they agree that when Hannibal tries to kill Mason, Will is going to arrest him. Will goes with his and Mason’s plan at first. Hannibal is kidnapped and presented in front of Will just like in his fantasy. But instead of acting on it, Will chooses Hannibal and frees him, getting all Mason’s people killed in the process. Later, he watches Hannibal mutilate Mason, approach him to kill him, and snap his neck. He does nothing: he ignores his deal with Jack completely and covers for Hannibal. Yet another proof that Will is siding with Hannibal more and more, and that his initial honey-trapping plan is almost a formality at this point. At the end of the episode, Will offers Hannibal to kill Jack.

In E13, Hannibal and Will are getting ready to kill Jack while Will and Jack are getting ready to arrest Hannibal. Will doesn’t seem to know on whose side he is until the end. At the same time, he lies to Jack about where the attack is supposed to take place. He helps Hannibal burn all evidence, even though he could have easily preserved some of it to use it later. He burns the evidence related to himself as well. Will doesn’t take Hannibal’s chance to run away before dinner, but he does hesitate and wonder about it. When the final moment comes, he calls Hannibal to warn him — he chooses him above everyone. Justice for Abigail, justice for himself, the desire to save other people — none of it matters to Will now. He made his choice, he chose his side, but he did it too late. When he goes to Hannibal’s house, Alana tells him that Jack is still inside, and Will takes out his gun. He doesn’t even try to point it at Hannibal. When Hannibal accuses him of lying, Will implies that he’s wrong.

Hannibal: I gave you a rare gift… But you didn't want it.

Will isn't so definitive.

Will: Didn't I?

Because yes, Will wanted it. He was ready to accept it. But he did so too late.

S3

Will’s thoughts are only about Hannibal and Abigail. He breaks into Hannibal’s empty house and sits there in silence. When Alana comes to find him and tries to talk to him, he coldly sends her away. He’s repairing a boat to go after Hannibal. When Jack comes to him to ask about his motivations, Will is very open — he doesn’t care about hiding any more.

Jack: Do you remember when you decided to call Hannibal?

Will: I wasn't decided when I called him. I just called him. I deliberated while the phone rang. I decided when I heard his voice.

Jack: You told him we knew.

Will: I told him to leave. Because I wanted him to run.

Jack: Why?

Will: Because he was my friend. And because I wanted to run away with him.

In Italy, Will is full of regret over his actions. He blames himself for what happened, admonishes himself for lying to Hannibal. E2 shows his state of mind perfectly – Hannibal is his everything and he admits he wants to be with him. He doesn’t care about justice at all.

Will: I do feel closer to Hannibal here. God only knows where I would be without him … He left [me] his broken heart. He misses [me]. [I] still want to go to him? Yes.

He admires the corpse twisted into a heart, touching it and then lying at the place where it was located. He intimidates Pazzi who tries to talk sense into him and indicates that he’s not here to catch Hannibal.

Will: You couldn't catch him when he was just a kid, what makes you think you're going to catch him now?

Pazzi: You.

A small, polite scoff from Will, unable to take his eyes off the small stairwell to the catacombs.

Will: What makes you think I want to catch him?

Later:

Will: You shouldn't be down here alone.

Pazzi: I’m not alone. I'm with you.

Will: You don’t know whose side I’m on.

Pazzi stares at Will, cautious.

Pazzi: What are you going to do when you find him? Your Il Mostro?

Will: I'm curious about that myself.

Pazzi: You're already dead, aren't you?

Other people realize how dark Will is, too.

Then we move toward Will’s trip to Lithuania in E3. His reverent attitude to Hannibal begins to change once he meets Chiyoh, but he admits the following:

Will: I’ve never known myself as well as I know myself when I’m with him.

Will learns that Chiyoh has been staying here for all these years because she doesn’t want to kill another person. He notes that they can’t be sure whether her prisoner really killed Mischa because Hannibal is the only person who knows the truth. Despite all this, Will sets Chiyoh up to kill or be killed, releasing her prisoner secretly. Chiyoh rightfully accuses him of it:

Chiyoh: You said Hannibal was curious if I would kill. You were curious, too.

He was, if he is honest with himself.

What Will did was cruel and violent. Hannibal just left Chiyoh be, he openly and boldly risked her life, not caring about her safety or about whether her tortured prisoner deserves this. Will stays behind to make the body into art in Hannibal’s style, in accordance with his own design from when he killed Randall. This Will is dark and confident, and very in touch with his dark side. He dreams of killing Chiyoh and keeps asking her whether she saw what a monster she was, unable to accept the idea that only he has real darkness while Chiyoh doesn’t and that murder didn’t make her feel good. He repeats to Jack that a part of him will always want to be with Hannibal. Sadly, he then sees Bedelia as his replacement, grows even bitterer, and tries to attack Hannibal with the knife.

In E7, Will bites into Cordell’s cheek and tears a piece of meat out of it. Then he looks at Hannibal to see his reaction, waiting for his pride. He shows zero reaction to the news that Jack is alive — he doesn’t care about it. He rebukes Alana and shows that he still sees himself and Hannibal as a team, referring to them as “we”.

Will: You helped Mason Verger find us.

Alana: I helped Mason find Hannibal. We followed Bâtard-Montrachet when we should have just followed you.

Will: Almost as ugly as what Mason wants to do to us is the fact that he can do it with the tacit agreement of people sworn to uphold the law.

Alana: I was trying to get to Hannibal before you. I knew you couldn't stop yourself. So I had to try.

Will: By facilitating torture and death.

Alana: I can abide the thought of Hannibal tortured, not necessarily to death. I'd say he has it coming, wouldn't you? Or maybe you wouldn't.

Alana can no longer deny Will’s twisted morals. Will tries to push Alana to a darker side, manipulating her into releasing Hannibal, by telling her almost exactly what he and Hannibal were discussing in S2.

Will: Then you have to evolve, Alana. You have to spill blood. By your own hand or someone else's.

After the escape, Hannibal says the words that define Will perfectly:

Hannibal: You delight in wickedness and then berate yourself for the delight.

This is exactly what Will does — he acts on his darkness again and again, but then he gets scared and makes two steps back. He’s not ready to fully let go of the idea of a normal life yet.

Will sends Hannibal away. When Jack arrives, Will doesn’t even bother to pretend he tried to arrest him — he just says that Hannibal is gone. Jack clearly has zero trust in him at this point since he sends people to break into Will’s house without asking his permission. Will has completely discredited himself, proving himself as someone dark and twisted.

But Hannibal gives himself up and 3 years pass. After the epic Europe failure and his new insecurities, Will tries to retreat again. He decides to try being normal one more time, despite his previous failures at suppressing his darkness and his feelings for Hannibal. So he marries Molly, and it goes as well as expected. Their relationship is shown as weak from the start. The first time we see them, they are apart: Molly and Walter have gone fishing, which is what Will loves and dreamed of sharing with Abigail, yet he stays behind. He didn't let go of the past. He subtly manipulates Jack into talking Molly into urging him to come join the investigation — he deliberately leaves them alone under a weak excuse, knowing very well what Jack is about to do. Will is bored with his normal life and he misses Hannibal, even if he isn’t ready to fully admit it yet.

His treatment of Molly deserves a separate mention: this is the woman he lies to through his teeth, the woman whose “I love you” he doesn’t bother to return and who he doesn’t want to interact with the second she raises the topic he finds personally uncomfortable, someone he leaves her at the first opportunity. He never told her the truth about himself. The way Molly tries to joke about him having a criminal mind proves that she knows nothing of Will's dark struggles, and the way Will immediately shuts down demonstrates their incompatibility and his unwillingness to be honest and open with her.

On the very first day, Will demands to see Hannibal, lying about having to restore his mindset. We know it’s a lie because we’ve just seen him reconstruct Francis’ murder perfectly. He just wanted to see him because he missed him, and both Hannibal and later Bedelia call him out on it.

E9:

Hannibal: You just came here to look at me. Came to get the old scent again. Why don't you just smell yourself?

E10:

Bedelia: Have you been to see him?

Will: Yes.

Bedelia: Haven't learned anything, have you? Or did you just miss him that much?

This is what Hannibal says about Will’s marriage — and another reference to his darkness:

Hannibal: How did you choose yours? Readymade wife and child to serve your needs. A stepson or daughter – (off his look) – a stepson absolves you of any biological blame. You know better than to breed. Can’t pass on those terrible traits you fear the most.

This is very accurate and Will doesn’t bother to deny it. He’s more concerned about stalking Bedelia and asking her about her relationship with Hannibal than anything else. He makes zero efforts to preserve his family, which shows how irrelevant they are to him. This makes him a very cold and cruel person. Also, the way he acts with Bedelia is very different from how he acts with others. With her, he can be himself. He’s dark, relatively confident, and dangerous — which is likely why he keeps coming back to her. With others, he still puts on a rather meek mask.

There is quite a solid idea that a part of Will knew Hannibal might target Molly and Walter and send Francis after them (it’s up to interpretation, though). Hannibal gives Will very clear hints.

Will: Tell me who [the killer] is.

Hannibal: I don’t know who he is. When you close your eyes, Will... is that your family you see?

[Will scoffs at this.]

Will: Do you know who they are?

Hannibal: Yes. 

Will: And you're willing to let them die.

Hannibal: They're not my family, Will. And I'm not letting them die. You are.

These are huge hints, and since Will is supposed to be an excellent profiler — more than that, a profiler who understands Hannibal intimately, it’s strange that he didn’t even suspect anything. Maybe a part of him subconsciously wanted proof that Hannibal is in love with him — since he goes to Bedelia with his question right after the attack. Maybe he wanted reassurance that the passion is still there. Maybe he even wanted an excuse to abandon Molly and Walter (and he does it very easily an episode later).

Ultimately, Will seems genuinely infuriated by the attack, but it’s possible that “the enemy inside him” secretly hoped for such outcome. He spends about a minute being truly angry at Hannibal — then he becomes concerned that he’s competing with Francis for Hannibal’s attention, which underlines the irrelevance of his family to him once more. When talking to Walter, Will doesn’t try to hug him or actually comfort him. They are like strangers, and Will shows resentment about having to explain some facts about himself to Walter later.

Will: He read about me in a Freddie Lounds article. I had to justify myself to an eleven year old.

Not “to my son”, but an indifferent and impersonal “11 year old”. Another reminder that Will is a cold person.

This attack made Will realize Hannibal is in love with him, and it finally started the process of his Becoming. Will is shown as full of resentment toward Jack and Alana. He callously sets up Chilton, an innocent person, for torture and death in E12. He explicitly says that he did it deliberately and doesn’t regret it.

Will: Damn if I'll feel … The divine punishment of the sinner mirrors the sin being punished. Chilton languished unrecognized until Hannibal the Cannibal. He wanted the world to know his face.

Bedelia: Now he doesn't have one.

At first, Will makes a half-hearted attempt at denial.

Will: I put my hand on his shoulder for authenticity.

Bedelia: To establish he really told you those insults about the Dragon? Or had you wanted to put Dr. Chilton at risk? Just a little?

Will: I wonder.

Bedelia: Do you really have to wonder?

Will: No.

Bedelia: You were curious what would happen, that's apparent. Is this what you expected?

Will sounds very ironic.

Will: I can't say I'm surprised.

Bedelia: Then you may as well have struck the match. That's participation. Hannibal Lecter does indeed have agency in the world. He has you.

Considering the timing, Chilton looks like Will’s courtship gift to Hannibal. This is the second time Will harms an innocent person, which makes him far darker than a righteous killer should be. And why? Just because. His darkness is really evolving.

When Will visits Chilton with Jack, he openly lies to him (Jack) and tells him Hannibal is responsible for what happened.

In E13, Will stages another deadly game. He plots with Francis to break Hannibal free — the immediacy of his plan makes it look like Will has already been thinking about it before. He lies to Jack and Alana. He hides the fact that Francis is alive from them, and when they discover it by themselves, he offers a plan: to use Hannibal as a bait and stage his escape. Jack begins to plan everything. If Will had actually followed this plan, it would have gotten Hannibal and Francis killed. But Will doesn’t care about justice — he wants Hannibal free and he doesn’t give a damn about the consequences. He shares his true intentions with Bedelia and threatens her.

Will: I don't intend Hannibal to be caught a second time.

Bedelia studies Will. Sensing where he might be going. Hoping she is wrong. A flicker of alarm plays in her eyes.

Bedelia: Can't live with him. Can't live without him. Is that what this is?

Will: I guess… this is my Becoming . I'd pack my bags if I were you, Bedelia. Meat's back on the menu … Ready or not… here he comes.

This is a crucial moment because while in S2, Will called Randall’s murder his design, now he’s finally Becoming. It’s the climax of everything. He leaks info about Hannibal’s transfer to Francis (who, if you recall, has attacked Will’s wife and her son). He gets many officers murdered by proxy; he sets up Jack and destroys him professionally again; he endangers Alana and her family as well as Molly and Walter. Without showing even an ounce of regret toward the dead officers, Will climbs out of the car. We don’t get to see it, but this is what he does according to the script:

Will takes the gun off the dead cop.

Still with no care, he watches how Hannibal throws another body out of the car and offers Will to take a seat. Will looks long-suffering and fond, even though he has just gotten about 5 people killed. He goes with Hannibal.

In the cliff house, he admits he’s not sure if he can “save” himself by killing Hannibal.

Will: I don't know if I can save myself. And maybe that's just fine. 

He intends to try, though, but when Francis attacks, Will naturally chooses Hannibal because he can’t see him killed. He reaches for his gun and the fight begins. Seeing Francis strangling Hannibal, Will pulls out the knife from his body and rushes to protect him. He and Hannibal kill Francis together, and Will plunges the knife into him with obvious relish. Then he admires the way the blood looks on his hand.

Will: It really does look black in the moonlight.

This is proof of how Will remembers everything Hannibal has ever said to him. He reaches out to embrace Hannibal, finally allowing himself this weakness, finally accepting that this is who he is and that there is no way back.

Hannibal: See? This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.

Will: It’s beautiful.

These words have a tremendous worth. Hannibal’s dream for them, the one he has been hoping for since early S1, has just become realized, and Will found it beautiful. The script confirms it additionally:

A moment as Will considers the brutal pack hunting he shared with Hannibal Lecter. He genuinely feels it is beautiful.

Upon this realization, Will gives the fate the last chance to stop himself and Hannibal, knowing that if they live, they’ll unleash their mutual darkness on the world. He pushes them off the cliff that has been confirmed to have no rocks by Hannibal, giving them a chance to survive. And they do — and they stay together and hunt. Will threatened Bedelia with being eaten and he kept his promise. The deleted epilogue to the series shows him and Hannibal in perfect harmony with each other.

Note that this is far from the only moments and details of Will’s long Becoming. There are many more, but if I addressed them, this meta would be even longer. However, here’s a quick analysis of Will’s softer sides — because they also aren’t as simple as it might seem at first. Will seems to sympathize only with people he can relate to personally, who remind him of himself in some way, and most often, they are murderers. He’s bitter about not being able to save killer-children in E4 because like them, he struggles with understanding what family means; he feels close to Georgia because he also thinks he’s losing his mind and no one can understand him; he’s gentle with Peter because he sees him as his fragile mirror; he’s soft with Reba because like Bryan said, they are both people in love with serial killers. With everyone else, Will is indifferent or cold. These traits were less visible in S1, but after he started to Become, they began to come to the surface. His softer sides still have a degree of selfishness to them.

So, Will has always had darkness in him. He has always been a rather cold person despite his genuine struggles, confusion, and the desire to be normal. Hannibal changed his life, helping him embrace himself and find unconditional love and acceptance. Will’s journey was very long, it had many setbacks, but in the end, he made it. They both did, and now they are free to enjoy their new life together.

Tagging some old fans who might be interested! @typicalher @hannibalized @bloodsmile @victorineb @he-s-dead-jim