#it's okay if he's arrogant in his power as long as he's dead certain no one will ever love him and needs to be convinced otherwise

[wbficaholic]

Bad Boy, a SessKag Fanfiction

Written for @gilded-sapphire's SessKag Fest 2023! -> Read on Ao3

Summary: He was the type she never knew she had, the type she couldn’t resist.

Excerpt:

It had been there from the beginning, if Kagome thought back on it. From the first time she’d seen Sesshoumaru smirking down at her from that monstrous oni’s shoulder. From the first time he’d disdained her as a ‘creature,’ and then, still looking down his nose at her in disbelieving contempt, had the gall to demand of her, ‘What are you?’—even after she’d done what he couldn’t and pulled Tessaiga from the stone.

It had been there later, when she’d shattered the spiked pauldron of his armor with her sacred arrow. When he’d plucked her next shining shot from midair and slanted his golden eyes toward her in a glare that could have scorched through solid stone. When he’d phased from view with a flicker only to reappear just before her, looming over her in open menace, and she’d met his searing eye dead-on—and if it hadn’t been for Inuyasha coming to her rescue, she didn’t know even now just what might have gone down between them.

She had the sense she wasn’t the only one who still wondered darkly about this.

Because it couldn’t just be in her head—of that, she was becoming increasingly certain. It was too tangible, too electric, this shared current of scintillating animosity that sparked to life between them whenever they were near.

It was something that went beyond the frisson of youki and reiki, something more primal, more raw and visceral than that kind of elementary clash. Something deeply personal.

He knew her name, and he called her ‘miko’ anyway. How could she not take that personally? The more their paths crossed, the more he chafed at her. His arrogance, his demonic condescension. He thought he was so powerful, so high and mighty. With flashing eyes, Kagome traced the smug, aristocratic lines of his inhuman face, and felt his own slit-pupiled stare scoring over her mortal self just as keenly.

No one else noticed these unspoken, heated exchanges. This was a private cold war they were waging, though why and to what end remained unclear. But the focus seemed to sharpen a bit more each time they crossed paths, pointed glance on pointed glance.

He’d taken in a little orphan girl. He'd stopped trying to wrest Tessaiga from Inuyasha. By and by, he’d turned his bloodthirst on Naraku instead. Sesshoumaru wasn’t a total monster. But he was still an infuriating prick. He made her teeth grind in indignation when he spoke about her to others as if she wasn’t standing right there. He made her blood boil with his cool glinting looks and scathing half-smiles.

The worst of it was, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

He made her furious, and it made her even more furious that she was so furious in the first place. She resented that just by being a jerk, he’d hijacked her emotions in this nefarious way. It was maddening. The only silver lining to her internal fuming over him was that it distracted her from the fact that Inuyasha was still hung up on Kikyou.

Kagome didn’t even realize he’d gone off again to meet up with her until she and her friends were sitting around the campfire, and she felt everyone’s eyes resting uncertainly on her. She’d been scowling again without realizing it, re-hashing the last time Sesshoumaru had gone out of his way to subtly antagonize her. She could only imagine the dark stormclouds that were shadowing her features and disconcerting her friends, who could only assume she was ruminating over Inuyasha and Kikyou.

“Oh,” she said suddenly, dispersing her thunderous expression with a smile and a wave, “sorry—I’m okay.”

“Are you sure, Kagome-chan?” Sango asked, frowning.

Kagome nodded, beaming back at her. “I was just lost in thought, that’s all. We’ve had a long day, haven’t we?”

Over the course of dinner, she managed to reassure her wary friends. The last thing she wanted to do was worry them, especially over something she couldn’t begin to put into words anyway. 

This ratcheting whipcord of tension between her and Sesshoumaru—

Kagome felt there was nothing for her to do except to wait for it to break.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆  Read the rest on Ao3!

Photo by Ilias Chebbi on Unsplash

[purposefully-lost]

More thoughts on the ghost guy??? I haven't decided yet what like.. decade he died in or anything, but it's definitely been less than a century. He died maybe in his mid-20's, and he died arrogant. Enough so that at the moment of his death, a demon approached him and knew for certain that he would make a deal.

I'm thinking he got involved with a bad crowd as a kid and spent his life as something of a criminal. Nothing notorious, he never made a name for himself, but he and his small crew were part of a number of robberies and maybe once or twice, acted as hit men.

He died in some kind of confrontation with either the cops or a rival gang?? He was with his best friend of several years (who he was maybe in love with) and died from a bullet wound. Initially, as he was bleeding out, he'd believed they survived, and that partially factored into why he made a deal to keep going. It was a huge slap in the face to get up and realize they were long gone, maybe even before he'd gotten hit himself.

He's mellowed out in the years since and hasn't really decided if, or what, he regrets. He exists in that kind half-tangible state; on a regular day, some people can see him and some can't. Some can, but their minds kind of.. wash over him, replace the memory as soon as he's out of sight. He needs a lot of energy if he really wants to make an impact or do something particularly grueling, which is when either people around him start getting cold and tired, or the power starts going out. Not a lot of that these days, though. Most of his poltergeist-y moments came when he was still freshly raised from the dead and throwing tantrums about his new situation.

I'm,, thinking I'm calling him Oscar okay thank you fbdbCNDN

[needtogetitout]

Okay so the new characters that I already mentioned already have one of my favourite dynamics.

Scout and Fern.

Scout, a Llune Bard, travelling the world and, in his words, „gracing the people with his voice and music".

Fern, an otherwordly being, manifested as a star skinned girl, whose presence seems to have a enormous effect on artists. Some people call her a muse.

Their relationship will remain purely platonic and is going to have more of a brother-sister or best friends dynamic, both of which will result in major developments for both of them.

At the beginning Scout is somewhat of an arrogant, egoistical character, only thinking about what’s best for him and his reputation. Due to him being a bard, he travels across Kestramoore, singing the tales of old and forgotten heroes and hoping that someone will do the same for him when he's dead. He strives to be an immortal memory.

Although Scout's seen as one of the most popular and talented bards of his time, he hates competition with a burning passion. So when another bard rises to fame similar to his, he doesn’t shy away from trying to compromise his rival. While doing so, Scout discovers that he‘s accompanied by a girl with starry skies for skin. He thinks nothing of it but when his rival dies by being ambushed by bandits and the girl manages to escape, he approaches her and offers to take her to the next city where she would be safe. Due to the long way ahead of them, they spend one night together and Scout experiences an inspirational boost like never before.

It doesn’t take him long too realise that the girl, Fern, is the source of that feeling. He starts writing new songs, plays them in front of crowds and the result is astonishing. The people are absolutely loving them and his performance is even better. Scout, although not entirely out of pure kindness, convinces her to stay with him. Ever since Scout and Fern are a duo, him performing songs and her providing him the inspiration. All while Fern is trying to figure out the reason for her existence and why feels both drawn to the city Ravaryn and afraid of it at the same time.

I'm not exactly sure when it comes to the backstories of both of them.

Fern is a fragment of Helier's power that manifested as a person? And in order for Helier to restore his complete power and fight Sylleth, he needs to absorb her?

Scout was originally part of a cult that worshipped Sylleth, hence the markings on his face, but managed to escape and lost his memories along the way? Or he’s just repressing those memories because of all the horrible things he was forced to do? This could implement both of them in the story, as soon as the main characters find out the truth about Helier they set out to find a way to restore his power and search for Fern, who at this point developed a close friendship with Scout and doesn’t want to leave this world just yet. Same goes for Scout, he starts treasuring Fern as more than a muse for his work, he sees her as a friend and is not willing to let anyone get to Fern. While the main characters try to resolve that conflict, they trigger or unconsciously remind Scout of his past and he offers them his help and knowledge of Sylleth he was taught in the cult. Maybe in exchange for leaving Fern alone?

But from what I’m feeling right now, Fern would probably sacrifice herself anyway to save the world.

Scout is a red skinned Llune, with even darker short, red hair, out of which two horns stick, just above his forehead. He’s relatively fit, but rather on the slender side of the spectrum and is 1,85m. His piercing blue eyes contrast with the rest of his rather red colour scheme. He looks like he’s around 24/25. Black marks cover his face and his neck, one might just say it’s a tribal thing, however only people who are skilled at recognising religious marks realise that those are ritualistic marks, symbolising one‘s joining of the cult worshipping Sylleth. This certain cult is not known to many and they usually try to keep on the low. What little things people do know is that once you join that cult, there’s no easy way out, if at all. You sign up for a whole life of devoting yourself to Sylleth, part of worshipping them also includes humanoid sacrifices.

Vincent Frawley, Scout's real name, grew up in the cult, and from the day of his birth everyone told him he was destined for greatness. His existence was unfortunate to begin with because cult members aren’t actually allowed to have children, however his birth was seen as a sign. He was to become the vessel of Sylleth, the very god they worshipped and he would save them all, or rather his sacrifice would. While it was an honour for everyone around him, including his parents, Vincent did not quite like the idea of being used as a tool by a god. He was interested in arts and music and wanted to pursue his passion. But I’m order to not disappoint his parents he vowed to obey. At least until the fateful day it would happen. Reluctantly he endured the ritual but something went wrong and he was not, as originally expected, possessed by Sylleth. Instead nothing happened. What he and the cult didn’t know was that Sylleth sought out to find another vessel and was successful. He chose four year old Quinn who was as good as dead. From this day kn Vincent was neglected, seen as a disgrace and disappointment.

He formed a friendship with a fellow cult member who also developed a certain resentment against the god they were supposed to worship. Together they plotted their escape, they'd fake their deaths and conjure illusions that looked like their corpses. (?) When he was 20, their plan was successful and soon they parted ways, both agreeing that it was safer this way. Vincent took on a new name and finally pursued his dream of being a musician. He was surprisingly successful and while the rising popularity also worried Scout that someone might discover that Vincent was still alive, he enjoyed the fame way too much to do anything against it. Still, he's always wary of the people around him and is careful not too tell people too much about him and perform in cities of which he knows that there’s a certain religious tendency. But he covers it up with a never ending sense of humour and charm, playing tricks on his crowds and without a qualm to steal somebody blind. Fern is sort of this balance to his flamboyant attitude, he becomes more calm throughout their friendship and starts questioning his own morals more and more as he catches himself not wanting Fern to have the same moral compass as he does.

Part of the reason he became a bard was his desire to not be just one of many, part of the masses, no he wants to be an individual, make his own destiny and be remembered for what he did and he alone. Been rewatching the Pirates of the Caribbean movies and in a way Jack Sparrow reminds a lot of how I imagine Scout to be/behave. I guess you could say the are kind of similar.

Fern looks like she’s about 18 or 19, if you ignore her skin that looks like a dark night sky full of stars. The stars, you might even think of them as freckles, always seem to glitter in a bright white light, similar to her short white hair that reaches her chin. Her eyes are both pupil and irisless and instead shine in a soft, bright purple light and are usually a bit covered by her fringes/bangs. Judging from her physique, she looks like a Mey'Thes since her ears are pointy but seem just a bit too large. There’s an otherworldly aura about her, that just makes you wanna stare. She's relatively quiet, mostly just observing her surroundings, sometimes it seems like she’s learning and taking in the people socialising. Sometimes if she does speak, she does so without thinking as her remarks might come across as rude or a little too honest. She’s just curious though and wants to learn. While spending time with Scout she starts getting a better grip on social concepts.

I think in a way both of them help each other understand and explore their own morals.

[reachexceedinggrasp]

What have you been enjoying recently? I really enjoy when you dissect or talk about things that could be better about a lot of media, but thought you might like an ask about something else! I found a new ride-or-die ship to write about recently and I've been having fun doing that, it involves a villainess and a male healer. Do you always strictly like male characters in an antagonistic role and heroines? Hope you have a good day!

:) thanks, anon! Glad to hear you're having fun with a new otp!

I'm working on a self-indulgent one shot about my Clannibal-esque ship from Tell Me What You Saw that I posted a rec about, so I'm still on that show. I kinda love it more the more I watch it because, while it's definitely got some big flaws, it never betrays its themes or its lead characters and has a very satisfying, optimistic ending. It believes its characters can heal. I'll take a sensical, positive emotional arc and my favourite ship dynamic over a tight, realistic mystery story any day. Slightly silly plot twists aren't a dealbreaker for me when the things I care about are done well. Also I'm still trying to get the last couple chapters of my Lokane fix-it fic that I've been writing for aeons done, the guilt is unbearable.

Do you always strictly like male characters in an antagonistic role and heroines?

No... and I actually don't think I would even say I like it more often than not? I guess it heavily depends on how you define 'antagonistic'. I don't often go for what I would consider genuine enemies-to-lovers, liking a ship that fits the strict definition of the term is fairly rare for me. I don't like violence as sexual tension and I don't like romance to have any element of personal hatred. If they hate each other after getting to know each other and/or try to kill each other after they have some kind of connection, I'm not into it. I really, really dislike aggressive rivalry pairings or 'thin line between love and hate' type pairings. I don't like anything that easily fits the 'sexy bad boy' or DFP archetypes at all. No frenemies, no shounen rivals, no 'stupid sexy villain'.

The dynamic that I like is that there is a deep divide which needs to be crossed in order for the characters to connect, but that the divide is caused by not knowing or understanding one another. It's about misjudgement and the need for compassion, to see others as fully human with human motives despite surface level incomprehensibility. If you'd call a purely ideological divide e-t-l, then more of my ships would qualify, but they're not usually characters who are actively at odds. More like characters who share a common goal but have prejudices or moral disagreement or bad behaviour between them to overcome. Beauty has to see past the Beast's monstrousness to his humanity, but once she does she will never see him as a monster again and cannot hate him. She now knows where the monstrous outside comes from and what it conceals. There is fear and tension in the beginning, he can seem like a potential threat, but he isn't actually playing the role of a villain. He's not someone to be defeated, but someone to be understood.

I like stories where people learn that things aren't what they seem and where the writer really has to do the work to get the characters to fall in love. They have to talk and discover the truth about each other in order to find common ground and sympathy. This is why I'm so big into arranged marriage/soulbond/magical trap type plots, where people who would never have voluntarily spent enough time together to ever recognise each other are forced into cooperating and end up realising they're incredibly compatible and/or complementary. I live for that 'you're not who I thought you were' kind of epiphany, for finding beauty where none was suspected to exist. Surface contrast versus deep simpatico. Learning to have empathy and to appreciate hidden strengths, to not assume you know someone's whole story.

I don't consider myself a villain fan. I do enjoy a flat-out villain, they can be very fun characters, but they're not characters I'll spend a tonne of time engaging with. Unless it's ott and kinda camp, evil without conflict or pathos is boring. My only dyed in the wool, no caveats, villain ships are Jareth/Sarah and BTAS Joker/Harley (both very tame). Erik/Christine is villain/heroine in the original novel, but to me primary canon is Susan Kay, in which Erik is the protagonist. The vast majority of my Problematic Favs are characters who are anti-heroes, tragic heroes, or deuteragonists; they cause conflict and may do very bad things but they are not villains in the technical sense.

There's a lot of characters who are borderline or arguable, but that I would still not classify as villains, personally. Like sure, OUaT Rumpelstiltskin is 'a' villain, but he primarily functions as an anti-hero and plays a lot of ambiguous roles in the narrative so it's kinda reductive to call him that. Dr Lecter isn't a villain at all despite pop culture's insistence on calling him one. Bang-won moves from being a mere catalyst to being a deuteragonist to being a tragic hero, but the show was a mess and I don't think that was planned; I think he was such a strong, dynamic presence that he completely outgrew his original role in the story. It's easy to argue about how to define him since the structure he exists within is so sloppy and the lead characters are so weak. Maybe he was intended to become a villain, but I don't think he did. He's comparable in almost every way to Shakespeare's Prince Hal/Henry V and no one would suggest Hal is a villain. These are all sympathetic characters with complex motives who are not primarily figures of opposition for a protagonist to defeat or ideologically overcome. When a character's actual purpose is to oppose the heroes (to which any arc of their own is secondary), I don't usually get into that character.

So like... it is often the case that I like dynamics where the man is in a somewhat antagonistic role and where he is pushing the heroine to growth by challenging her or presenting a spiritual obstacle for her, but he's not The Thing to Be Defeated. He doesn't have malicious intent towards her, or at least doesn't have it for long, and isn't fundamentally opposed to her goals or beliefs. Even in the case of Jareth, who is legitimately the villain to Sarah's hero, he isn't actually hostile to her, just to her mission. It's a game and a seduction to him, he can be callous in pursuit of winning because he's childish and amoral, but he does love her. He does want her to be happy. The power dynamic and moral conflict between them is multifaceted, she's not innocent (she herself created this situation) and he's not just a bully who wants to possess her; their relationship is more complicated than that. Jareth is not evil and the temptation surrendering to his will represents in the labyrinth was about choosing immaturity and rejection of responsibility more than anything else, there's still a place for him in her life after she overcomes her childish selfishness. He doesn't need to be banished, just set within boundaries.

If you compare it to the movie Legend, where Darkness takes a shine to Lily, I don't ship that at all. He revels in darkness, enjoys it, and wants to corrupt her so he can have her for himself. That's real covetous villain with a crush, dark seduction of the ingenue stuff and I do not want her to fall for it. I want her to end up with Jack. I'm into the fairy tale prince and wholesome healing true love, not acrimonious or 'dark' shipping, I just like a super powerful prince who is lonely and tortured and in need of emotional rescue. Angst with a happy ending, basically. I like these characters so much because to me it's obvious they are profoundly sensitive people with highly developed consciousness of justice, but they're suffering under broken worldviews or from blinding fears which lead them to make bad choices. A villain who isn't suffering, who fully understands what they're doing is selfish and feels no guilt or conflict, just isn't appealing to me. Someone who enjoys being bad is not someone I find emotionally compelling. A boy has gotta be soft at heart no matter how much cynicism he's cloaked himself in.

Such as, imo Loki in Thor1 is a tragic hero rather than a villain. The film has three protagonists with equal, intertwining arcs (Thor, Loki, and Jane) and no real villain apart from human frailty. In Avengers he is a villain and that transition has a lot to do with why he's way less interesting to me in that film. A personality transplant wasn't necessary to have him play that role, but that's how Joss did it and the result is a character I would not have been very into and would not want to ship with Jane if this were his first appearance.

If you mean 'what if the sexes are reversed?', I have certainly liked this same dynamic genderswapped before, just less often. Not, I think, solely because it's rarer to find it the other way around, but also because the more straightforwardly heroic character is usually our main pov character and I much prefer a female pov in my reading. When I have male-hero/female-problematic-fav ships, it's usually a tv show or film where the influence of pov is less all-encompassing and if I read fic it's from the female character's pov. And, as I've talked about before, for emotional reasons I really prefer that the monstered character in the B&tB dynamic is always a man.

[nmikaelsonimagines]

The Upper Hand, Part One: A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Request from @badbussylol​: HEYYY i saw on ur to do list ur requests r on idk if they still r but if they r can you do an imagine  where the reader traps klaus in wolf form? preferably a fem!reader ur such a good writer

I know you sent me a few ideas, but I went with this one, so I hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x 

Want to see more? Find the rest of the series just below:

The Upper Hand

Y/N refused to believe that Klaus had won. So he was living back in his house, so he had killed plenty of Marcel’s men, so he was supposedly in charge, so what? Y/N refused to believe that this was it, the time to admit defeat as Marcel had. 

New Orleans wasn’t Klaus Mikaelson’s city, it was Marcel’s, it was hers, and the young witch was certain that she was going to give it back to its rightful owner. 

Okay, so Marcel’s rule hadn’t been particularly great for her people, but Y/N had been allowed to do magic, helping Davina Claire to control what the Harvest had given her. She had never believed in the ritual, and had been grateful to Marcel when he had stopped it, when he had put a ban on completing it.

And then Klaus Mikaelson had come back to town, and what Y/N thought was safety, contentment, power, had been turned on its head. The hybrid thought he had the upper hand now, thought he had the ability to control anything and anyone that had been Marcel’s. 

Y/N was going to show him just how wrong he was. 

She jumped when her phone rang, too absorbed in the spell she had found. Elijah Mikaelson had given Davina some of his mother’s grimoires, and with those came some of the most complicated magic Y/N had ever seen. Being Davina’s friend, Y/N had managed to sneak a look, and her eyes had rested on a binding spell, one to bind the werewolf side of a vampire. 

Well, one vampire in particular. 

Y/N thought there had to be a way of reverse-engineering it - to bind the vampire side instead of the wolf - and she was in the process of figuring that out, ignoring her phone, when it rang again. She looked at the screen, and smiled to herself when she saw the name of her victim. 

“What do you want, Klaus?”

“Where are you?”

“At home.”

“Get here. Now.” 

The phone went dead. God, Y/N hated him. She hated the sound of his voice, the way he demanded things as if she were born only to serve him. She didn’t belong to him, didn’t want to follow his rule. She wanted him to pay for the way he had disrupted her life, and she knew that the spell in her hand was the way to do it. 

Well, there was no time like the present. 

Y/N strolled into the Mikaelson compound, feeling particularly smug. Today would be the day she would finally make Klaus Mikaelson fail, the day he would learn that he didn’t have all the power. 

“There you are.” The hybrid looked stern, arrogant as ever. “Look, Y/N, I know - ”

She didn’t give him time to finish his sentence before she had him against the wall, hand outstretched as she kept him in place with her magic. Klaus looked angry, and Y/N tried to contain her fear as blue eyes bled into yellow, black veins crackling on his skin. She couldn’t be afraid, not now, not ever. 

“Sorry, Klaus. I’d say it wasn’t personal, except it wouldn’t be true.” Another blast of magic, and she heard his bones begin to break, cries of anguish escaping his lips. “And I was always taught not to tell lies.”

Y/N knew that if Klaus could speak, he’d be asking her what the hell she thought she was doing. But it wasn’t long before instead of a human figure, there was a wolf in front of her. She expected him to snarl, to attack, but Klaus only looked at her, and for a moment, she could have sworn she saw hurt in his eyes. 

She pushed it aside, smiling. “Now who has the upper hand?”

“Y/N, what the hell happened?” The witch turned at the sound of Marcel’s voice. She was surprised to see that he looked horrified at the sight in the courtyard. “Is that Klaus?”

“Just fancied making the mighty king fall.” She expected Marcel to be pleased, confused as to why he wasn’t. 

“You need to turn him back.”

“Why? You can get the city back, you can be king again if he’s like this.”

“Y/N, you keep him like this, you’ll have Elijah after you, Rebekah, and then maybe his daughter when she’s old enough. You really want that? A life with a bunch of Mikaelsons wanting you dead?”

Y/N considered Marcel’s argument. Regretfully, she realised he was right. Of course, turning him back meant that Klaus would probably kill her too, but at least it would be quick, and maybe Marcel would back her up. “Fine. But it’ll take some time for him to change.”

“Well then you’d better be gone when he does.”

Y/N took one last look at Klaus, at the wolf who still wasn’t attacking her for some bizarre reason, before nodding and running home. She would perform the spell there, and then make sure that she was gone by the time he changed back.

It was a few hours later when Klaus Mikaelson found himself back in his human form. He stood, shaking his head as he marvelled at Y/N’s bravery. She really had had the upper hand there for a moment, and he should have killed her, but he couldn’t. 

Not when he thought she was so beautiful. 

Klaus made his way back to the dining area of the house, picking up the flowers in the middle of the table where a now cold dinner sat. Today was supposed to be a chance to make peace with Y/N, perhaps a little more. 

Tomorrow then, he would try again tomorrow. 

He wouldn’t stop until she was his.

Masterlist

[tenthgrove]

Hey can I request La Squadra with a teammate who was though dead but was found again but they lost their memory?. Like it was a mission gone wrong with everyone thinking the teammate was dead till boom they one day run into them on the street but they don’t remember pa squadra at all?

A Second Chance

La Squadra x Reader, Platonic/Romantic (Interpretable), SFW

They had loved you, and they had mourned you. They placed a candle in the living room, with a bouquet of fake flowers and your photograph. A shrine to the one they had lost. For three long months, they mourned. The joy of their home seemed to fade with your absence, but little by little they healed. Three months to the day of your loss, they honoured you with a trip to their favourite restaurant. And there, on the other side of the window, you stood.

Formaggio- You may have been associates in murder, but you were also good friends. When you were lost, Formaggio felt his grief every day when he looked for someone to go to a bar with him, or sit down for a night of games. He missed your smile, and your laugh, but even as you stood blankly in the bus station, he recognised you at once. He was the first one to dart up from the table and run for you, calling your name even as you jolted in panic at the sight of this stranger. As the others caught up to him, it slowly dawned on him that you could not recall who he was. He felt his newfound joy melt into sadness. Would he ever see your smile again?

Illuso- He wished he had been kinder to you. You deserved better than a bunch of arrogant loudmouths as teammates. He knows deep down he never offended you with his rudeness, but that doesn't make him any less guilt-ridden. He couldn't believe it when you failed to recognise them. How? You'd lived together for years! Is somebody forcing you to pretend you don't know them! As his interrogation becomes increasingly angered you make your excuses and try to leave, thinking nothing good can come of lingering around these strange men. Illuso grabs your wrist and begs, begs you to hear them out. He's sorry for getting heated, okay? He just- he can't lose you again.

Prosciutto- He doesn't understand how they could have lost you. You were one of the newer ones, yes, but your talent and potential was unrivalled. With time, Prosciutto was convinced you would have gone far. Then you died. And then they found you. The others were quick to panic at the sight of your lost memory, but Prosciutto was not deterred. It was his gentle charisma that convinced you to go home with the group in spite of your amnesia. From there, they can begin to show you who you were to them. He guides you softly as you look through the pictures and possessions, calming your sorrow as the twinges of memory gnaw at you. He will help you through this.

Pesci- La Squadra's apprentice never saw himself as deserving of his place in the squad. But with you, he never felt the sensation of not belonging. Prosciutto may have done what he had to to prepare him to kill others, but you taught him to love himself. With you gone, there's nobody to fill that void. He is silent as they found you on the street, silent as you walked nervously around your old home with the vaguest, vaguest hint of recognition in your eyes. He tells nobody that he is fighting back the urge to cry. When the others leave you alone for a moment he brings to you the friendship bracelet you made together, not long after you first joined. As you feel the beaded letters of his name and yours bound on the string, you cry. Pesci does too.

Melone- Unlike the others, he had always held hope deep down that you might be alive. The logistics just didn't add up. The target's stand couldn't obliterate a body entirely and they'd searched for your corpse for hours. The meetup at the restaurant was sobering for him. For the first time in months, he felt like he could accept your death. That was just seconds before they saw you. When you are home with them, he wants to examine you. He scrutinises your old wounds and concludes this form of amnesia is perfectly reasonable as a result of them. Furthermore, you have some clear lingering impairments that will need a few more months to heal. He announces with a sigh that whoever is taking care of you now clearly isn't doing a good job of it, if they were making you go out for things yourself.

Ghiaccio- Ghiaccio doesn't mourn openly. He lashes out, shouts and rants and kicks even more than he usually does, but never will he admit it's because of the grief. He didn't think he could ever quite feel the same again after you died, and now he has you back with him, he just has to accept your knowledge of your bond together is just gone? When you ask to go back to where you were staying after your first visit back to the base, he insists on driving you. He takes you down the routes you used to drive together when he needed to call off, and tries to reinitiate past conversations. He doesn't miss the way you rush to correct yourself after mispronouncing the name of a city he mentions visiting. He realises with a hopeful heart, that your memories might not be gone entirely.

Risotto- He supposes he should have always known he'd lose a teammate eventually. It didn't hurt any less when it finally happened, and Risotto blamed himself every day for sending you out on such a dangerous hit without more help. When you were found his joy was soon replaced with sadness as he noticed at once the signs of confusion on your face. You did not remember them. Lying in bed after you have returned to your accommodation, he is shell-shocked, but he will not give up on you. He arranges at once for you to meet up again, and once you are certain you can trust them, helps you get your affairs in order so you can move back in with them. Even if you still don't remember them, it's clear they'll care for you better than your current guardians. He watches you from the doorway as you settle back in to your old bedroom. Inhabited, once more.

Sorbet and Gelato- Death pervades in everything they do. They're lucky to go a week without seeing it. But with you, it's different. You were special to them. They'd watched you blossom from a frightened novice into a powerful killing machine, and when they lost you, it hurt. As you settle in gradually back to their base, they can do nothing but watch passively, butting in every so often to ask if you want help with anything, as you struggle to untangle your confused memories. A month later you knock on your door late at night, the couple getting up quickly in anticipation of you asking for more of your medicine. But then, shaking in your skin, you have a different announcement. "I think I remember you," you tell them. The three of you almost fall to the floor in the tightness of your hug, on the verge of weeping in joy as you spill out your newfound memories.

[ac3id]

Plaything | 18+ | part i

plaything 1/ ?? | part 0

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 1: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation, masturbation, filming w/o consent, boot grinding, a little bit of bakusquad + reader....this is filthy :D 

summary: by luck you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt and powerful brats who just seem to hate you and among them, a certain red eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 1: you bump into bakugou by accident, dropping your vanilla ice cream all over him, you try to apologize and run away but wants more...oh wait why are his friends standing there recording everything too? 

wordcount. 4k+

a/n: sooooo, it’s finally out! huge thanks to @sawamooora for proof reading this! helped me out a lot <3 sorry for making u sit through that mess x[

 this scene was inspired by that one episode of boys over flowers where the mc’s best friend drops ice cream on the main guy’s shoe and he asks the mc to lick it off...obviously that didn’t happen in the show but it really got me thinking...... 

alsO the netflix show elite,,, i just saw it and knew,,,,

taglist: @mocha-focha​, @erenyeagersbasement​ , @haribo-pop, @sunshine-fangs​, @kuremis​, @amazing-fandoms​,

dm/ inbox/ comment to be added/ removed. 

—navigation

It was a great opportunity. Never in your life would you have thought you’d manage to land a scholarship at the prestigious U.A Private Academy. 

The school was a dream, the best in your city, and only affordable for the rich. Graduating from such a school could have helped you with life in so many different ways. Not only would it open doors you could never touch before, but it would help you to form connections which would make your life undoubtedly easier.

Graduating from U.A. was a blessing, but obviously, it did not come easy. It was rather unfortunate. After your previous school building had collapsed, due to some accident, the board announced its year-long closure.

At the time, you were beyond lost and understandably frustrated - it was your last year before college and you simply couldn't risk waiting the year out. The whole situation was nerve-wracking, looking for decent schools which would allow you in. 

Honestly, you had no idea what you would’ve done if U.A. hadn’t called you that night. 

It was the last day of the summer holidays, a week after your school building had collapsed. Luckily, no one was hurt - but the damage on the campus was severe. 

You had been talking to your friends when your mother rushed into your room with exciting news. Apparently, the chairman of U.A was feeling generous. He had decided to offer four excellent students from your school a scholarship to U.A. 

You were overjoyed being one of the students along with your two other friends; Shinso Hitoshi and Izuku Midoriya. 

At first, the thought was a little scary - going into a completely different world than you were accustomed to. The kids there would be much different than you, you didn't want to be the   laughing stock, you didn’t want to be their silly little entertainment... The thought made you nervous, but when your best friend, Izuku, called you the next night explaining how he also won the scholarship; followed by Shinso, you were relieved. 

Yes, you were stepping into a whole different world but you at least had your two friends with you. 

And that brought you to the first day of school. 

You stood outside the huge gates of the even enormous academy all alone shaking in your little, expensive skirt they forced you to wear as the uniform waiting for your friends. You promised the two boys you’d wait for them, and besides, you weren’t planning on entering the building all alone. 

Your friends, Shinso and Midoriya, lived close to each other. They were supposed to meet you at the gates of the school that morning, but they were running late. Your anxiety grew the longer you stayed there, with students filling the place- arriving in their fancy cars with their expensive bags and accessories. It easily made you feel out of place.

“Hey,” you heard someone before someone tapped on your shoulder. You quickly turned around to greet the voice. Staring back at you was Uraraka Ochaco.

You remembered she was in your school too, Midoriya has a huge crush on her. 

“Yes, Uraraka? Right?” You weren’t close to her, nothing but mere acquaintances. But seeing her face - right here, right now - it made your day. 

Uraraka was dressed in the same uniform as you, there was no doubt that she was one of the four kids who won the scholarship. Both of you talked while you implored her to wait for Midoriya and Shinso. You didn’t fail to notice the way her cheeks turned pink when you mentioned Midoriya. The two of them were so obvious. 

Your friends arrived, they were late, but they came. 

Apparently, there was an accident that forced them to stay back a little longer, but they managed to make it before the first bell. 

“I actually have an old friend who goes there now,” Midoriya confesses out of the blue as the four of you enter the gates. You look at him in awe. 

During the three years in high school that both of you had spent together, he had never mentioned any friend of his going to the U.A. academy ever. 

“Why did you never tell us?” Uraraka asks. 

“well, we’re not on good terms. He used to live in the same neighborhood before his parent’s business took off. He left after middle school.” Midoriya says, a slight frown forming on his face.

“Who is he?” Shinso asks. 

Midoriya pauses briefly before explaining his entire history with a temperamental and rude blonde. Bakugou Katsuki, he calls him. His childhood friend. But from what you managed to gather, Bakugou was anything but a friend to Midoriya. 

Bakugo was once just a simple boy, living a simple life, destined to do great things - but once his parent’s clothing line ‘Dynamite’ blew up and became mainstream, he started drowning in wealth. Bakugo moved out of his old neighborhood at the starting of high school before enrolling in U.A., just like all his rich friends.

“Maybe you should say hi,” Uraraka suggests. Midoriya’s expressions turned sheepish.

“About that…” he started. “I called him yesterday, got his number from mom, and-” he stopped. 

“What did he say?” Shinso asked.

“He told me to get lost and die,” Midoriya said with a slight frown on his face, looking down. 

That was your first impression of Katsuki Bakugou. For a man you had not even met, you sure loathed him. 

School went smoothly for a week, everything was going great. The four of you kept your profile low, didn’t talk until spoken to, kept your distance, and everything was okay. 

People often starred and whispered amongst each other when they saw you in the hallways, but that was about it. Everyone seemed to be decent but… there’s always a but. 

Everything took a turn for the worse when you managed to piss off the wrong person, Bakugo Katsuki himself. 

It was an honest mistake, not even that big of a deal - especially for his standards Yet, for some reason, Bakugo wanted to get under your skin. 

It happened after your lunch break, you were on your way back to your classroom with an ice-cream cone fasted tightly in your hands. You mindlessly dashed through the hallways, trying your best to get back to class as fast as possible - you don’t want to be late. It’d earn you a bad reputation. You don’t need that- you don't want anything which could jeopardize your scholarship. 

You walked straight and took a turn. Just by fate, you bumped into a stiff, hard chest making you wobble on your feet and sending your ice cream from your hand flying straight to the ground.

“Shit,” you cursed, looking down seeing what you had to work with. 

The ice-cream cone splattered on the floor, the white creamy liquid flushed all over the floor along with staining an expensive-looking, black leather boot. A snarl comes from above you along with a group of chuckles. More expensive shoes come into your line of view as you realize you’re not alone. 

You slowly bring your gaze up, ogling at who you just pissed off. 

Staring back at you is a furious blonde, glaring at you with such intensity that it makes your stomach drop. It’s the infamous Bakugou Katsuki, you don’t want to deal with him. 

-

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you don’t give him a chance to complain as you take your flight. Quickly, you try running away but a large hand grabs your forearm, stopping you dead in your tracks. 

You look to the side, deep red eyes stare right back at you. 

“Where are you running off to? Don’t you think you owe my friend here a proper apology?” Kirishima says, his grip on your arm growing tighter. He towers over you, his huge body trapping you with intimidation.

Going to U.A for over a week there’s a thing or two that you’ve learned about the rich, snobby brats who own the school. Not everyone is bad, a few of them are actually but the rest are just bad. 

Bakugou was the worst. From how Midoriya described him, you knew for a fact he’d be a horrible person. But hell, he managed to prove himself even worse. 

He was crude, mean, downright arrogant, and ignorant. Always screaming unasked opinions on top of his lungs, and gets mad whenever someone disagrees. He acts like the world revolves around him.

 Bakugo had a bunch of friends who he called his “followers” and they weren’t any better.

They just watched while Bakugou ruined everything, they were there to support him. 

Kirishima Eijirou the redhead, he was captain of the football team. He was a jock, brawns over brains kind of person. Girls cooed over him and his overly attractive, hot body. It looked as if he was sculpted by God himself. 

Next was Kaminari Denki. He was in the school band, dating the lead singer. And yet, he managed to find time to flirt with other girls. He was the goofball of the group, dumb and stupid But he always knew what he was doing. Even though it was barely noticeable, you could always see a devious glint in those amber eyes of his. 

Sero Hanta was famous for a lot of reasons. Most notably for having brought illegal drugs on the campus and skipping classes to go down to his junkie hangout spot to smoke weed. The man had no shame. Sometimes, he’d walk into the classrooms high as fuck. The teachers couldn’t do anything even if they tried, his parents practically owned the school; he owned the school. There was no going against the tall, lanky man who looked like he couldn’t even smash a bug. He held the most power and his friends sure knew how to abuse it. 

Last but not least was Mina Ashido. The one and only girl member of the self-proclaimed ‘bakusquad’. Sometimes, Jirou Kyouka, the lead singer of the school, would hang out with the boys and her boyfriend, but she wasn’t a permanent member. Mina was. 

In your opinion, Mina was a nightmare dressed like a daydream. With her short, pink hair and bright smile, she seemed like an angel. But she was the devil. Worse than even Bakugou, perhaps. 

She knew everything about everyone, she had leverage galore: screenshots ready to leak, videos ready to ruin lives. She had them all, and frankly- she scared you the most. 

Kirishima pushed you back, and Bakugo caught you by your shoulders. 

“That was fucking rude,” he growled, biting his fingers into your shoulder blades tight and hard making you squeal. “Are you fucking blind or something? Fucking extra.” 

“I said I’m sorry, let me go will you?” Even in such a terrifying situation, you try to remain calm.

“What do you think, Sero?” Kaminari began. Your heart sank, including Sero into anything was never a good sign. 

“She ruined Bakugou’s new shoes,” he continued. Bakugou’s hold on you tightened and you winced, turning back to him and returning his glare. 

“Okay, what do you want?” you give in, finally. A mischievous spark lights up in his crimson eyes as flashes a cocky smirk to his friends before turning back to you with a frown. He pushes you towards Mina and she catches you with an arm around your shoulder. 

“Those were expensive, right?” she looks at you and then back at Bakugou. He grunts, nodding. 

“Fuck yes, I’m pissed as hell. Some fucking extra managed to ruin it.” 

You look back down to steal a glance at his heavy, leather boot. The small, white stain melted away. 

“What will you do to make up for it?” Mina whispers your name and you cringe. They were teasing you. For their fun, they were making fun of you. 

“What can I do?” you say, sarcastically. Prying yourself away from her hold. The crowd goes dead silent before speaking. Sero is the first one to talk. 

“Lick it off.”

There’s a pause, no one speaks. Your stomach drops and your face pales at the look the five of them are giving you- it’s serious. Dead serious. 

Kaminari bursts out laughing followed by Sero and the others. The four of them get a great laugh but Bakugou stares at you head-on with his grave expressions burning through your soul. 

“Whatcha looking at? Do it,” he commands. 

The laughing dies down and Kaminari speaks, “are you serious? You want her to lick your shoe,” he can’t control his laughter, a chuckle breaks with every word. 

“Yes, I’m fucking serious. Besides, Sero recommended it,” he smirks. “Do you really want to say no to him? I don’t know so much about this but-“ he leans down close to your face, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, “it might complicate your scholarship.” 

There’s a twisted rhythm in his voice. He’s enjoying tormenting you. You still want to believe that they’re just messing around. That they’ll have their laughs and let you go, but the way Sero stares at you says otherwise. 

“You don’t wanna do it?” Bakugou asks. 

“Of course she doesn’t! That’s gross, oh my god.” Mina exclaims, earning a chuckle from the rest of the boys. 

“Hey, let’s hear it from Sero himself.” Kirishima pats Sero’s back, pushing him forward. The five of them have circled around you, coiling you inside their venomous nest with you in the center. You turn to Sero with pleading eyes, looking up at his huge form, begging. 

He smirks looking down at you, you look so tiny beneath bim. He wants to mess with you, even more, you look like a nice toy to him. He wants to play with it until he can’t. 

“I guess, I did say that-” your blood runs cold, heartbeat picking up in nervousness. “-but you don’t need to do it.” He finishes. Your face lights up while the others groan in disappointment. Bakugou looks livid. 

“Just know that, you’re the one who dropped the ice cream on Bakugou’s shoe and now you’re not even helping him out. That’s not very noble, is it? I don’t know if I even by mistake slipped that info back home- my parents might reconsider whether you truly deserve to be here or not. They don’t really like disrespectful kids who comprise the school’s name.” 

Sero ends his speech with a wide, ear-to-ear grin, followed by a pat to your head. 

“The choice is yours.”  

You pause for a moment and think. Where they were really going to make you do it, where they were really going to humiliate you like this. They were. But were you willing to do it? 

From Sero’s threat, you could tell he was serious, this was legit. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time the school expelled someone who had beef with Sero, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. They don’t care about anyone but their loving son. They wouldn’t even think once before expelling you.

“What’s your answer, princess?” Kirishima teases.

 Mina and Kaminari once again break into fits of laughter.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t have a choice here, kneel you extra.” Your heart hammers in your chest as Bakugou gestures you to kneel. You stop for a second, breathing unevenly- thinking. After a long, thoughtful sigh, you answer. 

“No, I am not going to do it.” Your voice is meek yet clear. Even though you’re trembling under the heavy gazes of five snakes, you choose to stand your ground. 

Bakugou glaring at you while the others boo. 

“Aw, c’mon you don’t mean that.” 

“Don’t be a little brat.” 

Bakugou stays silent while the others continue to throw insults at you -  calling you names and trying to make you regret your decision. You look straight forward into Bakugou’s cold, red eyes, searching for his next move. Your heart beats even harder in your chest with increased anxiety. After watching your torment for more than a few minutes, Bakugo decides he’s had enough of this game.

“Hey, shitty hair,” Bakugo starts. “Punch me.” 

“What?” Kirishima asks, vividly shaken. “Why do you want me to hit you, Bakubro?” 

“Punch me real hard, give me a black eye.” The confusion grows greater on everyone’s faces. You stare at him in awe, wondering what angle was trying to play. 

Kirishima raises his hands in defense. “Woah, dude slow down there. I’m not just going to punch you.” 

Bakugou clicks the roof of his tongue, letting out a sound of irritation. “You all are just dumb,” he starts.

“Imagine if this punny, little,” he leans down closer to you till his lips touch your ears and whispers your name with a crude chuckle. “Were to drop all her food over me, not apologize, punch and me then run away, that’d bring her into a whole world of trouble. Wouldn’t it?” 

Bakugo’s words are calculated and sly, he knows exactly what he’s getting at when he starts. His voice fills you up with dread as he makes his accusations public.

“She would be expelled on spot and Kacchan could also raise charges,” Kaminari adds. 

Your eyes widen in fear. 

“Yeah, I’ll fucking do that.” Mina giggles. “That would succck,” she cheers. Your lower lip quivers as you stare at them in disbelief, your eyes open wide only to be covered with fear. 

“Hey, c’mon, why are you doing this to me?” You feel them inch closer to you, their warmth leeching onto you the longer you stay surrounded by them. 

“Because you have no fucking manners.” Bakugou snarls. 

“Kiri, punch him. What are you waiting for? If you don’t wanna do it I will!” Kaminari cries, growing impatient. 

Kirishima laughs before he charges Bakugou. Your heart hammers in your chest. 

You think about your family, your future, and how disappointed everyone would be with you. Your dreams and aspirations, all were rooted in this school. 

It was honestly sad, pathetic even. Your entire future was just a joke to these spoiled kids. These kids who could control you, and everyone else,  with just a flick of their fingers. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the price to pay for a piece of the beautiful cake known as U.A... You resign yourself to your fate.

A piece of your mind. 

“N-no, don’t do that. I-I’ll do it,” you murmured, your voice timid and weak. The five paused looking at each other with an ominous glint in their eyes. Bakugou was the first to speak. 

“Well, then fucking get on with it. On your knees.” Obediently like a trained puppy, you got down onto your knees, not letting your eyes fall from Bakugou’s face. His red, fierce eyes barked at you with an unknown look, keeping you lost. 

“Holy shit, she’s actually doing this,” Mina squealed watching you lean forward, bringing your face next to Bakugou’s expensive boots.

“Kaminari, record this.” Sero taps at the energetic blonde, forcing him to take his phone out and hit ‘record’. As you lean further to the ground, your short skirt rides up behind you, giving the audience a clear view of your round ass and pastel panties. The sight brings a smile to Bakugou’s face as he scoffs. 

“Cute panties,” he remarks. 

You jerk, trying desperately to sit back, but Bakugo stops you. Smashing his other foot on top of your shoulder, he holds you there facing the ground.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” he growls.

You squirm, almost falling under his weight and as much you hate to admit it, a tingle of excitement runs down your spine. This was turning you on.

 A row of whistles flood in, the boys start teasing you and praising Bakugou. 

“Lick it off,”  he commands. 

You look down at his leather boot, the ice cream almost melted. There’s still a bright white spot of the sweet now liquid splayed out. Even though it’s not a lot, it still makes you cringe. You peek your shy, little tongue out timidly, forcing yourself to do the heinous deed. 

Bakugou watches you hesitate and pushes on your shoulder harder making you reach towards him. 

You give in after a final attempt, diving into his wishes. Your wet tongue touches the rough, cold leather. You cringe after a single touch, closing your eyes and scrunching your nose at the salty taste. “Clean it all off,” he commands.

You dive back in, this time letting your tongue glide across a larger portion. The humiliation burns through your body. It makes you uncomfortably hot, mostly from anger and but a little bit of arousal.

“Nice ass.” 

There it is. The excitement comes back the moment they start making suggestive comments, the attention riles you up and it’s horrible. 

“Kaminari are you even supposed to be here? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Mina asks at the blonde pervert who was currently zooming on your ass. 

“Oh? We’re cool as long as I don’t stick my dick her,” he points to you. “That’s hella fucking tempting but I’m in love, dude.” He chuckles to himself, thinking about his girlfriend. 

They treat you like an object, talking about you like you were some sort of a toy. 

“Bet her pussy is tight,” Sero says. 

Kirishima turns to Bakugou, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Yo, Bakubro, can we touch her?” 

Bakugou looks on from watching you lick his boot and turns to Kirishima. A dark, unsettling gaze falls across his eyes as he speaks, “No. This one is mine.” he stares down at you. 

You stop lapping on his shoe and stand back on your knees, buckling your knees you try to get up but Bakugou harshly kicks your shoulder, throwing you back and making you cry. 

“Why did you do that?” you squeal, holding onto your bruised shoulder, glaring at him intently. 

The rest of the group goes quiet at the display of Bakugou’s sudden violence. 

He stands between your thighs, lazily resting his foot atop of your soft thighs. 

“You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” the angle you were spread out in had your skirt flipped over hips, displaying your pretty, pastel panties to everyone in the room. 

Even though it’s subtle, masked by everyone’s fear of what Bakugou was planning, you still feel everyone’s gaze focused right on you and more specifically at your clothed cunt. Bakugou presses hard on your thigh making you cry. 

“Useless Deku’s friends are just like him. The fucking second you walked in here, I knew you were just another useless insect for me to stomp on.” He pauses, smirking, pressing his foot onto you even harder, twisting his ankle to increase the burning sting surging across your right thigh. “And I’m doing just that.” 

He steps off you for a moment, letting you catch your breath and recover from the burn. His eyesight travels lower down to your panties. He admires the cute pair you had on. Normally when he’d see girls naked, they’d dress themselves up the most luxurious to match his standards. But that’s not you, that could never be you. 

He rejoices at the thought of seeing your flushed, tear-stained face breaking down under him. You’ll never be like those girls, always a step behind. He can build you up and break you however he likes, you’d have no say in it. 

The power trip drives him crazy. 

He presses the tip of his boot over your clothed clothed cunt, pushing the hard material right over your sensitive clit. 

You gasp at the feeling, looking up at him with terrified eyes. He smirks down at you, moving his foot in a steady rhythm, rubbing the fabric of your cotton panties against your little pearl. 

“This turning you on? What a freak.” The rest of his group basks in shock. They watch intently as the scene spiraled out for them, too captivated to make any comments. They just keep quiet and stare. 

The way you squirm under Bakugou as he plays with your cute clit so unforgivingly makes them hot with excitement. Kaminari feels a little guilty but he blames it on his nature as a man.

Sero feels a little bad for you, they all do. But then again they wouldn’t waste the opportunity to be in Bakugou’s footsteps- literally. 

“You’re a little slut, you know that?” Bakugou sneers. 

Your gasps turn into whimpers as his simulation becomes harder. You clench your fists, desperately wishing it to be over. Tears brim in your eyes at the sheer humiliation of your corrupted form. This was just too much, too much for you to handle. 

“Please, stop,” you beg, knowing he wouldn't listen. “I’ll report you,” you cry.  A roar of laughter starts, shutting you up. 

“Go for it, you do that.” Mina comments. Kaminari walks closer to you, bringing the camera down to your face recording your horrified expressions. 

“We’ll just go ahead and post this online.” he threatens. 

A drop of tear falls down your waterline following a waterfall. You cry, leave all of your dignity behind and cry. You beg them to stop but as your pleas mix with your moans, it’s hard for anyone to understand what you’re saying. It’s not like they don’t know what you’re asking them for, they just turn deaf, simply because they can. 

Bakugou stops, he takes a step back, leaving you alone. You let out the tiniest cry when he leaves, ditching you just when you need his touch the most. 

“Feels like I’m doing too much of the work, if you want it so bad, do this yourself.” He says. Your body still burns with desire, your clit still hard and cunt salivating, you are nowhere close to being done... 

It’s as if something takes over and you are possessed by the dire need to cum, you do exactly as he says. 

You snake your fingers down your panties, deliberately rubbing on your swollen little clit before pushing your finger into your drenched cunt. You cry out as you clench around your finger, the pleasure becoming unbearable. Your legs shake and you close your eyes shut. 

You stay there on the floor, fingering yourself in the corridor, without any shame, while Kaminari records all of it. 

“She’s gonna give me a hard-on,” Kirishima says and you moan.

“She really is a slut, huh?” Sero comments. 

“She’s cute,” Mina adds with a smile. 

Bakugou scoffs, “does Deku know how much of a whore you are?” He asks. 

You don’t pay any attention to what he says, too busy bringing yourself to your climax.

“You’re getting all this right?” Mina looks over Kaminari’s shoulder and onto the phone screen which captures you beautifully losing yourself for everyone to see. 

“You close?” Bakugou asks as you feel yourself clench around fingers tightly, he bends down on his and pulls your panties down your hips, admiring your precious cunt. 

“Cute pussy,” he remarks before flicking your sensitive, hardened clit.

A rush of pleasure washes down your body as you cry while cumming. Bakugou pushes you right over the edge, a nasty grin screaming atop his face as he watches you. You curse at yourself for letting him see you like this, but there’s not much you can do but cry while you feel your juices gush around you before sliding down your thighs and onto the dirty floor. 

It takes a second for you to calm down and when you do come to your senses, dread fills you up. Tears shamelessly fall down your face as you realize what you just did. The others laugh at you, without feeling any remorse. 

Bakugou continues to stare at you with an unsettling look, while the others discuss the heinous crime you’ve just committed. 

Sero looks down at you and you catch his dark eyes staring at you. A toothy grin scavenges his face as he speaks. 

“Awesome,” he says as if he just finished some mediocre movie. 

Finally, you find the courage to get up and run. 

This was totally not awesome. 

[confused-as-all-hell]

Rowan Whitethorn

“You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you've committed. And I know this because I've been doing the same damn thing for two hundred years. Tell me, do you think you will go to some blessed Afterworld, or do you expect a burning hell? You're hoping for hell--because how could you face them in the Afterworld? Better to suffer, to be damned for eternity.”

Rowan Whitethorn, arrogant and powerful and fierce. The Fae Warrior, Prince of Doranelle, King of Terrasen. A male who had held death in his arms, who loved a queen without her crown, who had a laugh like midsummer thunder.

He was by no account perfect. His love was scarce, his warmth thinner still. His tongue was edged in steel. His temper is rivaled by none.

Rowan has his faults, but the primary source of his hatred is his appearance. People pick on him for being white and for being muscular, as if being either of the two is awful. I understand how several white characters might spark frustration, but (I say this as a woman of colour, myself) that is a fucking bullshit reason to hate him. He did not rummage through a box and draw out the label reading “white.” This is how Sarah J Maas chose to write him. 

Rowan might have a more muscular build than average, but that’s literally the entire point. We are shown he trains and works out strenuously, as well as eats certain food to keep himself fit. He is careful with himself, and genuinely puts in the necessary work to retain his muscle. He is a trained warrior that has lived for hundreds of years, of course he’s going to have accumulated strength. Do not attempt to dissuade me on this topic, as I know from personal experience the effects of working out.

Yes, he is out of the ordinary in terms of his looks. Silver hair, green eyes, skin made tan by the sun. But he is always described as handsome from Aelin’s point of view, and have none of you ever been in love? Your boyfriend or girlfriend or significant other is always staggeringly attractive through your lenses. His face is never written as angelic or perfect, however, and Rowan is thought of as extraordinary but not impossible. 

Allow male characters to be stunning without detesting them for it, as you would females. I have too often seen people (the same people who praise Nesta or Gwyn for being beautiful) write long-ass posts on why Rowan just isn’t realistic. Maybe it isn’t. But if you opened a fantasy novel expecting realism, I will find myself amused. Rowan is fae, for fuck’s sake. Sarah J Maas wrote them to be attractive.

Another point of speculation is Rowan’s initial dislike of Aelin. He is thought of as abusive, which I will blatantly disagree with.

When Aelin first arrived in Mistward, she and Rowan were not friends. They were not associates. They were two grief-stricken, trauma-ridden characters with awful coping methods and no hope to be seen. Over time, they began to work together, and that begrudging respect blossomed into friendship.

Did they detest one another? Yeah, they did.

And then they realized the full extent of their comments, how wrong they were to be so awful, and they made their peace with it. The point of that dislike was to give them both character arcs, to show they grew from the furious, miserable, bleeding shells of themselves.

They grew from that pain. 

Hatred became acceptance, acceptance became respect, respect became friendship, friendship became love. They did not love each other instantly, nor should they have. It was slow, and they learned from the mistakes they made, they apologized for them.

Their romantic relationship (nor platonic) was never toxic. It was always mutual communication and understanding and “I will be here for you, but I will not dive in to fix all your problems.” It was concern and support and admiration. It was “I will sit with you, and I will light my lamps to banish the dark.”

Does Rowan worry after Aelin often? Yes, of course.

But have none of you ever been in love? During times of strife, of terror, you’re always calling in to make sure they’re okay, they’ve dealt the day’s cards. Rowan worried after Aelin, but he never, ever suppressed her. He allowed her to go about on her daily business, he just wished he could accompany for the more dangerous activities. It was not coddling or stifling her, it was wishing for her safety. 

Let Rowan worry over his best friend (now wife) without being detested for it.

Had my own best friend put herself in danger, I would have her head for it. I don’t know who told you only friends can worry over your safety, but they lied. Rowan is entitled to being angry at Aelin when she leaves in the dead of night and comes back drenched in blood. 

If it was Aedion who was furious, would you have such a problem with this?

For fuck’s sake, a significant other is just your bestest friend who loves you romantically rather than platonically. 

Rowan proves time and time again he will always stand beside Aelin; when he pleaded for his cousins’ aid in the war, when he was prepared to give his life for her during QoS, when he was always, always, always there to lend a hand.

He extended a hand... but she was always the one to take it.

He was respectful and courteous of her every boundary, and she his. They never waded too deep into each other’s pasts, never pried or tried to lift that barricade. They gave each other space, understanding.

Yes, I heard you, they didn’t have the best start. But the point of character arcs is to start in a bad place and haul oneself out. It wouldn’t have worked if Rowan was this sweet, gentle, warm character from the very beginning who kissed Aelin’s ass.

Rowan’s wife and unborn child had died, and he was forced to shoulder that burden alone. He was forced to deal with his war trauma alone. He was made into a monster, and he felt he deserved nothing less.

Rowan acted harshly towards Aelin because a few of her comments were triggering and insensitive towards his trauma, and if we can find it in ourselves to forgive Nesta Archeron (who I love very much, don’t attack me) we can forgive him for dealing badly with his issues. 

Just because he is a male, and he doesn’t cry or scream or outwardly show his hurt, we have seen from his part of view that he loved Lyria, and Aelin is so different from her, but he loves them both and his guilt is awful.

 His being protective over Aelin is a product of his trauma. He left his wife alone, and she was promptly murdered, alongside his unborn son or daughter. Don’t you think it still frightens him to leave Aelin be, especially in their current war state? Even still, I can think of around two occasions where he was protective, and not one more.

What I’m trying to say is, Rowan is allowed to be flawed and PTSD-ridden and hurting.

What I’m trying to say is, he can make mistakes and fuck up from time to time.

What I’m trying to say is, he is worthy of love all the same.

[dancingintheraindreamingonday]

Trouble in paradise - Part 4

Summary: This part takes place 5 months after the blip. Things get difficult when you and Bucky get a guest.

Warning: non; just fluff

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x angel!reader

Author's note: Took me ages to write that. I’m introducing you to two new characters. ;) Thanks again for everyone who is reading my story. English is still not my first languages

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3

Bucky felt weird, deprived. It has been 5 months since the blip and now everything was different. He wasn’t in Wakanda anymore, reading all those letters you wrote to him.

Steve wasn’t there anymore. He stayed in the past and Bucky knew the reason. Steve loved you so he couldn’t stand to see you happy with Bucky. He fled from the painful reality into a past where you weren’t present. 

You and Bucky moved in together one month after the big war. It should have been awkward to move in with someone you barely knew but it wasn’t. Everything with you was easy and harmonic.  And Bucky enjoyed the levity. 

5 years ago, after the snap, you started to work as a teacher. It didn’t matter that you had no qualifications. The schools were so desperate because of the sudden disappearance of several teachers and you were fantastic. You still work there and to everyone else you and Bucky seemed like a normal couple. 

Bucky just finished therapy when he noticed a person with a hoodie who was following him. 

He slipped into an empty alley and ambushed for the person to come.  Bucky didn’t need to wait long for it. 

He attacked the hooded figure pressing it to the wall. A soft squeal left the mouth of the person. 

„Who the hell are you and why are you following me?“ 

„I… I mean no harm.“ The voice of a woman spoke, timidly and softly. 

The figure raised both hands to the sides of her hood and pushed it a little bit back, but it was enough for Bucky to be stunned. He could see the (y/h/c) hair shining under the afternoon sun. Her hair reminded Bucky of yours. Glossy, soft and so slick, that the fabric of the hood went slithering down. This girl in front of him looked like you. The same (y/e/c) eyes and the same small nose. Just the lips had another shape-they were slightly thinner. Without doubt, the girl looked like  she could have been your sister. 

„Who are you?“

„My name is Charlie and I’m here because I really need your help.“

„Why do you think I’ll help you?“

„It’s HYDRA, and angels. They are targeting my family.“

„I don’t believe a single word you say. HYDRA doesn’t exist anymore and why would I even care for your family.“ 

„Because… I can’t believe I’m telling you this. You are my family. You are my father.“ Bucky let go of the girl like he got burnt. 

„I’m not a father. I don’t have a child. You’re completely mad.“ 

„Yeah, you’re right. You are not a father and you don't have a child yet but one day you will and that kid will be me.“

„So you’re saying you're from the future? You’re out of your mind.“ Bucky started to walk back to the main street, leaving her alone.

„I can prove it.“ Charlie hurried after Bucky. 

„When you can’t sleep at night, mum makes you hot chocolate and reads a book to you. And every time I have a nightmare you do the same procedure.“

„That doesn’t prove anything.“

„Two weeks after the blip you bought an engagement ring for mum. You carry it in your pocket and you wait for the perfect day, the perfect moment to ask her. And you told me that one day you woke up and just knew that this particular day would be the one. Here.“ The girl was searching in her bag. She pulled out a picture. 

It was an indescribable strange feeling to look at a picture of something that hasn’t happened yet. The picture showed you and Bucky on your wedding day. You both were kissing each other. It was a soft yet freeing kiss. All these years of waiting and longing were put into this kiss. Bucky wasn’t sure if others would interpret the same thing or if this was just his current feelings; still waiting impatiently for the to come. In the background he saw Sam and Pepper and another woman who he hasn’t met yet. The laughed and clapped happily their hands. 

Bucky sat down on a bench, that was nearby.

„Am I… am I a good father?“

„Of course you are. You are the best.“ Charlie lay her hand reassuringly on Bucky’s.

„So what’s going on in the future?“

„A lot. It’s pure chaos. The war of the angels isn’t up there anymore. They now live on earth, they are fighting on earth. And they have multiple allies.. HYDRA or SWORD. They are after us. You and mum are desperate and helpless because you both don't know how to protect our family. So mum thought about sending me to Olympia… to Ikaris.“

Bucky snorted. He didn't like the Eternals and especially Ikaris, who was a handsome and powerful man. But it was his arrogance and his closeness to you that made Bucky despise him. Every time Ikaris came to visit you, which happened on a regular basis since the Blip, Bucky felt minor in his presence. Like a loser. Even Sam and Steve didn’t like Ikaris. They met him when he came to warn you about Thanos upcoming arrival. „He’s the Prime Eternal“, you always said to Bucky. „Of course he’s a bit arrogant but he’s also sincere, loyal and fair. I’ve known him for so many years, I’ve stood side by side in his war against Apocalypse. I trust him, and you can trust him too.“ 

„Wow, even in the past you can’t stand him. Anyway, we didn't make it to Olympia. They knew we were coming, Michael and Rafael were already waiting for us. So you and Mum had no choice but to fight. You gave Capt… I mean Sam the stone and just said 2023 and that I should look for a prophecy? And then Sam and I tried to flee but they were everywhere, so he gave me the stone and suddenly I’m here.“

„What stone?“

„This one.“, Charlie showed Bucky a small green stone. 

„That’s an infinity stone! Where did you get this?“ 

„Don’t ask me! You gave the stone to Sam. I don’t know where you got this. But mum can’t know about this. She thinks, angels shouldn’t time travel, because we could misuse this power. “

„Put that away. If someone sees you with this you’ll be in danger.“

Bucky met Charlie every week this week which didn't get unnoticed by a certain person. 

On the first day, it was a coincidence that you were there as well. You just picked Morgan up from Kindergarten. Morgan Stark was the daughter of Tony and Pepper and even thought you never were really close to them, one day changed this. You visited Tony and Pepper and suddenly Pepper went into labour. Complications came up and Pepper had to fight for her and for her baby’s life. But it had been your angel powers that saved both of them. Tony never forgot this and he made you the godmother of Morgan. You hated this name. According to you, no angel should be called a godmother or a godfather. 

The first time you saw Bucky and her you didn't really think about it. But you were confused that Bucky didn't mention the woman he met this day and you couldn’t help but to be suspicious.

The next following 3 days you saw Bucky and this woman sitting too closely for your liking on a small bench and talking vividly with each other. 

„Is that Bucky?“, Morgan looked at you as she pointed with her small pointing finger in the direction where Bucky was sitting. 

„I think you’ll be the next Sherlock Holmes. C’mon, lets say hi to Bucky and his friend“

You were nervous and an uneasy feeling spread in your body. 

„Hey, Buck.“, You grinned at him, recognizing how surprised he looked.

„What are you doing here?“

„Picked Morgan up.“ A strange silence grew between the two of you. That's why how you started to observe the woman, that was sitting on the bench. She was truthfully gorgeous. A fact that you didn't appreciated at all. 

„Hi, I’m (y/f/n).“ You extended your right hand.

„Hi, I’m uh.. Charlie…“

Her hand was shaking and sweaty like she was nervous and when you touched her hand you felt her powers, her angel and you didn't like it at all. You pressed your lips together and faked a sweet smile. „Nice to meet you.“

You looked away from Charlie and into Bucky’s deep ocean blue eyes.

„So, how do you met each other?“

„Well… we… met… in therapy.“ Bucky stuttered.

You nodded slowly your head. „Are you sure or do you need another minute to come up with a better lie.“, you whispered.

Bucky ignored this and pulled you slightly away from the bench. 

„I want to ask you something.“

„Okay?“, Morgan was still sleeping in your arms and you were afraid, that she would wake up from your fast heartbeat. 

„I wanted to ask if you’d be okay with Charlie staying with us for some days. She doesn’t have a home and…“ Bucky was scratching his head as he looked unsure.

„Absolutely not.“

„Why not?“

"What did she tell you? What did she tell you to gain your trust, because whatever it was, it was a lie.“ A pause

„Did she tell you that she’s an angel? But she isn’t a normal one, she wasn’t created by Him. She was born, but she isn’t a Nephilim either.“

Bucky looked confused, not knowing what a nephilim is.

„A nephilim is the offspring of an angel and a human. They are half human, half angel and they are really annoying. But she is a real born angel which leads me to the conclusion that one of her parents must have been a really powerful angel… like an archangel. Bucky, I know every archangel and none of them has a child. She can’t be trusted and there is no angel who doesn’t want to see us dead… with all the chaos we provoked.“

You starred into Bucky’s face. No sign of surprise could be seen.

„She told you. You aren’t even surprised. Since when do you trust angels?“ Shocked about his sudden trust, you opened your mouth slightly.

„Well, I trust you, don’t I.“

Bucky regretted this sentence immediately as he saw your hurt in your big (y/e/c) eyes.

„I didn't mean it like that. I just… this girl has no one, no family, no friends. And I feel bad for her. You of all people know how difficult those times are.“

As a teacher you saw how desperate parents and kids could be. You knew that for several families the blip didn't make it any better, if anything it just made it worse. 

„Don’t compare her life to those who really suffered, Bucky. She is not innocent. Angels are never innocent… I… Who is this girl? Who are her parents? Did she tell you anything about them?“

„She is scared and helpless. She’s still traumatized and doesn’t talk much“ 

You snorted.

„We can get her a hotel room for some time but I won’t let her into our home. That’s my final answer.“

You kissed Bucky on his cheek and walked with Morgan on your arms home. 

„She will kill you.“ Charlie told Bucky as they both walked upstairs to Bucky’s and yours apartment door. „Probably.“ 

Charlie lay her hand on Bucky’s underarm which caused him to look into her face. 

„Please, don’t get killed. Without you, there is no me.“ Even though she just said it jokingly, a warm and pleasant feeling went through Bucky’s body. 

He opened the door and heard you preparing dinner. 

„Hey Buck, I hope you aren’t upset…“, You stopped your sentence when you saw who Bucky brought with him.

„Oh for god’s sake. You’ve got to be kidding me.“

„I know you’re angry with me but I couldn’t just let her stay there in the park.“ Bucky tried to calm you down.

„Please, Bucky. Don’t let her into our home. She has more secrets than the Vatican“ You begged him. 

„It’s just for a couple of days, yeah?“

You shrugged

„Well, you already made this decision on your own and I have no choice but to accept it.“ Bucky leaned down to kiss you but you turned your head away. 

„You’re probably hungry. Sit down, please.“ You offered the girl a seat. Charlie was starving and it had been weeks since she ate a proper meal. 

„What about you?“ Bucky asked worriedly.

„I lost my appetite but don’t worry, I won’t die out of starvation.“ 

You opened the door to a small room. The walls were painted in light blue and small and bigger yellow handprints of you and Morgan could be seen. 

„Is it already morning?“ She asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes with her tiny hands.

„No, you just get an upgrade. Go back to sleep.“ You whispered softly as you carried her to your room and left some minutes later with a pillow and a blanket which you put onto the couch.

„Charlie, you can sleep in that room and you“ You turned your head towards Bucky.

„You can sleep there.“ With your head you're nodding to the red, comfortable couch.

„You’re kicking me out of our bed?“ Hurt and disappointment could be heard in Bucky’s voice.

"Did you really think that after everything you’ve done today I want to sleep next you? 

Good night.“

Two weeks had passed and Bucky was on edge to the therapist’s sorrow. Charlie was still living with you. 

„Trouble in paradise?“ Ikaris saw the blankets on the couch as he entered your apartment. Since the blip the Eternals were at war with the Deviants again. Ikaris used his getaways to meet you, asking for your support in his war.

„Don’t get me started. This woman just infuriates me.“

„Tell me about it.“ Ikaris sat down, watching how you prepare dinner.

„Well… 2 weeks ago Bucky brought this girl home because she’s helpless and innocent.“ The last part of your sentence is full with cutting irony. 

„But you don’t believe it?“ Ikaris dug deeper.

„How can I. This girl is an angel.“ You put a glass of water in front of him.

Ikaris eyes widen due to your confession.

„And not just a normal angel… she has a soul... I felt it when I touched her hands.“

Ikaris swallowed the water and snorted.

„How is that even possible?“ He asked when he gained back his control of his breathing.

„I have no idea and I don’t think that this never existed before. That makes her kinda dangerous. And to be honest, I don’t like how close she and Bucky are.“

„So, you see her as a threat of your security or your relationship with James?“

„I don't know. Even though she is powerful she can’t kill me with her powers, but she has Bucky wrapped around her finger with her annoying angel charm. And that will eventually kill me.“

„Maybe she has the same friendship like you had with Steve. You told me, that in the beginning none of the avengers trusted you, except Steve.“

„That was different. I was always honest.“ You said defending yourself.

„But they didn't know that. You are extremely strong, immortal and gorgeous. You had Steve wrapped around finger.“ 

You crossed your arms, not liking Ikaris’ reasons.

„Here they come“, You mumbled as you heard the apartment door to open.

„Hey, James!“ Ikaris greeted cheekily Bucky 

„Ikaris.“ Bucky nodded

„So, where is the wolf in sheep's clothing?“

„Ikaris, I swear I’ll k…“ You were masaging your temples.

Ikaris swallowed again 

„Damn woman, you didn't mention that she looks exactly like you. Are you both related?“ 

„As if, I’m definitely not related to this.“ Your voice was cold, which earned you an annoyed glance from Bucky

„So tell me, where are you from?“ Ikaris looked interested and attentive. 

„I don’t know, I can’t remember.“ Charlie's cheeks blushed as she shrugged. 

You snorted

„See, I told you. The worst liar on earth.“

„I thought out of all angels you would understand me not remembering my past.“ It was the first time that Charlie really spoke with you and it surprised you as much as it angers you. 

„Are you trying to compare your stupidity with me getting my memories burnt out in the most agonizing pain? You do remember, you're just not telling us. That’s a damn difference.“

Tears welled up in Charlie's eyes as she ran into her room. 

Bucky looked at you reproachfully and went after Charlie. 

„I’ll better go.“ Ikaris stood up. 

„What? No, please don't leave me here. At the moment, you are the only sane person here.“

„If I want to eat with this much tension I’ll just eat with my ex-girlfriends.“ He chuckled. 

„Talk with him. You both love each other, you will find a solution. And maybe trusting her… just a tiny bit would make her more talkative.“ Ikaris kissed you on the top of your head and left.

Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at you. 

„Why are you so mean to her?“

„No. The question should be: Why are you so nice to her?“

Bucky walked slowly into your direction

„You want to know the truth? She reminds me of you. She’s smart and strong but also extremely vulnerable. And because of that I feel the need to help her, to protect her.“ His voice was deeper than usual. 

Moments later Bucky stood before you and put both his big rough hands on the wall on each side of your head. He cornered you against the wall. 

„I’ve been deprived of you. Of your kisses, of your touches“ Bucky murmured in your ear, his lips slightly touching earlobe. He could smell your sweet, fruity fragrance that made him dizzy. 

„Promise me, that no matter how angry you’re with me, never stop kissing me. I need those. They're keeping sane.“ 

„I promise“

After hearing this, Bucky pressed his cold lips onto your soft and warm ones. His urgent tongue was invading your mouth, as he was pressing himself closer to you. Your hands were in his brown short hair trying to pull his head even closer to you. 

Bucky groaned.

You both tried to catch your breath when you both heard a woman’s voice straight out of the tv.

„Did you know Steve Rogers?“ 

„… I followed his career very closely as an Avenger. I like to think that I modeled my work after his. I liked that what I was doing would make people feel safe. Steve Rogers was the kind of guy who could do that, he gave me hope. Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother.“

Bucky clenched his jaw, not believing what he sees. You covered your mouth with your hands, shocked to see a new Captain America. 

@jessyballet​  @geek-and-proud​ @xlostinobsessionsx​ @cataves​ @intothesoul​ @beminetokeep @ebxny27 @ceo-of-daichi​ @bluemoon-icecream-blog​ @peterbparkersbae​ @bbl32​ @stormi-ames​ @intothesoul​ @avoxzy​ @ferxaniti​ @daughterofthemoon92​ @bebudaful​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @harrystylesandthegoobs​ 

[the-angriestpineapple]

liability // villain!sero hanta x femreader

Rating: Explicit Characters: (Villain) Sero Hanta Inspiration: My piece for the Citrus Dome Discord server’s Hero/Villain Redemption Collaboration. Okay listen, I love Sero Hanta and this boy does not nearly get enough credit for what a good boy he is. Get ready to thirst for a tape dispenser folks. Prompt:  You’re captured by a villain/hero. This is a double whammy! The character you pick must be written with the opposite alignment. So, if they are heroes, they must be portrayed as villains. If they are villains, they must be depicted as heroes. On top of that, you (reader) or they must try and corrupt or redeem the other character! Tags: Villain!Sero Hanta, bondage, shibari, overstimulation, oral, vaginal sex,  abuse, talk of sexual assault. (The last two are not Sero and only last like, a paragraph or two.) Word Count: ~6.4k Collab Masterlist here

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The museum was dead silent with the exception of your brush making slow, careful strokes on the painting you were working on. Of course, it was expected that it was dead silent. You were at work near in the middle of the night. It wasn’t that the restoration department was noisy during the day, but there was always some sort of audio. Someone talking, other people working, someone sipping tea. And for this specific piece, you wanted absolute silence to concentrate. Not even music. Dead silence. It was the first time you’d found a piece by your absolute favorite artist and you had begged to be the one to restore it. But in order to concentrate as much as you felt you needed to, there had to be no noise. So you’d gotten permission to stay late, after the museum closed. And you were grateful. This was going to be the absolute highlight of your career. You pause to dip your brush into the specialty varnish remover and hear a noise. You pause, and glance at the clock. It wasn’t time for the security guard to make the rounds. You immediately feel on edge. No one else is supposed to be here. Maybe… maybe something just fell over in the artifact room.  You grab your cell phone, trying not to think about how utterly impossible that is, and turn on your flashlight app. You exit your offices in the restoration department and head to the next door, where the artifacts not currently on display are held. It’s possible that the security guard made rounds early. Likely more possible than something falling over. Especially since the door to the artifact room is ajar. You’d go in, see the guard, and then maybe it was time to head home. You make it only a handful of steps in before you hear something that sounds vaguely familiar, and you’re quickly wrapped in some kind of tape. You immediately struggle but lose your balance, falling to the ground. Your phone skids away from you and slides directly under a shelf. You stare at the spot in dismay and when someone speaks up behind you, you freeze at the voice.

“Hm. This won’t do. Intel said there’s only one security guard and I already took care of him.” A booted foot pushes on your bound torso to roll you over. You look up, and your captor’s eyes widen the same time that yours does. He breathes out your name in surprise. Immediate glee rises in you. He recognizes you. Sero Hanta, love of your life from middle school, recognizes you all these years later. But that giddy schoolgirl elation is shoved down when you remember that he’s a villain and is obviously here to steal from your museum. His mouth curls into a grin just as yours falls to a frown. “What are you doing here, Sero?” Not that you don’t already know. Your museum might not be the Tokyo National Museum, but it held some pretty priceless artifacts. “I would think that’s obvious, if you recognize me. How have you been?” His head tilts to the side and your frown deepens. “You look good.” I look good? Part of you feels your heart skip at the compliment. Part of you flares up in indignation, wondering how he has the absolute gall to say that to you when you’re bound from shoulders to hips in tape, on the floor of your place of work that he’s about to rob. Though if you’re behind completely honest, he looks good too. You’d always been partial to his angular face and wide smile, but now he had lean, powerful looking muscles. His hair was still long but pulled back, and the underside of his head shaved. His outfit was a parody on his hero costume, a skin-tight body suit of mostly black with white and yellow accents. He didn’t wear a helmet anymore, but did have a black face mask. Like the kind you wore when you were sick. He had an air of confidence around him that was undeniably attractive. But you guessed that one would become a bit arrogant with as many successful heists as he’s pulled off. He’d never been caught once, even though he had former classmates that were specifically looking to take him down. And now here you were, throwing a wrench in and possibly fucking it all up. As far as you knew Sero had never actually murdered anyone, but there had been a lot of thefts with no witnesses. What if there were, and he just disposed of them? What if he did that to you? Your breath catches in your throat, and you flinch away from him when he crouches down. He still has that grin on his face. “So, if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to it and figure out what I’m gonna do with you later.” He taps your nose and rises again. “You’re just going to leave me here on the floor taped up like this?!” You start to struggle again, but his tape is strong. You can barely move.  “Afraid so,” he says with a sympathetic look. “This is an important heist, and I can’t have you fucking it up for me.” He starts perusing the various artwork. You’re not sure if he is looking for something in particular, since right now he looks more like he’s shopping than about to rob the place. You watch his movements carefully, cataloging all the pieces he touches. At least, that’s what you want to pretend you’re doing. You know that you’re watching the fluid motion of his muscles through his skin tight costume. The way his eyes light up at a particularly valuable piece. The wide, friendly smile that you remember from middle school is surely under that black mask. He’d been playfully teased by your classmates for that smile, but it had always made your heart flutter. Despite his looking, Sero doesn’t seem to be finding anything of interest. He’d even picked up some very expensive pieces before putting them back down. It doesn’t take long for your curiosity to get the better of you. “Um, are you looking for something in particular?” Sero looks at you with an expression of mild surprise. It’s only a split second though before the confident grin is back on. “Why, you willing to help me out?” His eyebrow raises and you flush a little.  “Of course not,” you fire back immediately. You’re just curious if he is looking for a certain item. There’s a few things that he can think of that he might be looking for. But Sero hasn’t turned away from you.  “You know, for a small museum this is a rather large room. You might just be useful to me.” He only now shifts back to continue to peruse through the paintings. “I am looking for a piece in particular, as you said. The original Hinakuawa pond painting. I saw that it was taken off display.” It’s a good thing he’d turned away from you, because he missed the moment of your eyes widening before you forced a neutral face. That painting was taken off display because it was on loan to another museum, one hours from here. “Ah. Lotus Daydream. Yes, that painting is kept in this room when it is not on display.” Luckily the bulk of your artwork was flat pieces, so this was the largest storeroom. Maybe you could keep Sero distracted while he searched for a painting that wasn’t there, until your security guard woke up and signaled the police – and the heroes – to come save you. It was as good of a plan as any, and considering your current predicament… the only plan you really had. He glances at you when you don’t willingly point out where it is, then shrugs and keeps looking himself. He doesn’t seem inclined to keep talking. The silence gets to you after a few minutes. “So, um… it’s been a long time. I… see you on the news a lot.” You wince inwardly. What a stupid start. But Sero doesn’t seem to think so apparently. He gives you a side smirk. “Yeah? You watching me on the news?” The teasing in his tone was obvious and you flush again. “You’re on it a lot, to be fair.” Which wasn’t incorrect. Sero Hanta was on the news a few times a week with another successful theft. He infuriated the police and the heroes, especially the ones who used to be his friends. “What can I say, I’m good at what I do.” He winks at you and turns back to examining the artwork. I bet you are. The thought comes immediately, and your breath catches for a moment. It’s almost funny. The Sero you knew, that you had been hopelessly in love with, had been awkward. He smiled a lot, and he was laid back, but he didn’t have this confidence that seemed to be oozing out of this Sero. Your Sero had been lanky. Long-limbed and almost spider like. But his kindness and thoughtfulness had been what made you fall first. You had also been awkward, and very quiet. You didn’t even know if he’d known who you were. You’d been partnered with him for an English project once and you’d barely been able to communicate with him for it in person. He’d been so sweet and patient. And now… now he was the most notorious thief in Japan. With the body of a god and confidence of a rock star. It makes you squirm a little in your restraints. “And you, I didn’t expect to find anyone here, much less someone like you. Is it normal for you to work this late?” You know it’s probably just him trying to case the museum, to see where he made an error, but you shake your head anyway. “No, I was working on a piece that is very important to me.” You see an eyebrow raise, and hurry to continue. “Not Lotus Daydream. It’s another artist, one much smaller. It does not have a lot of monetary value, but he’s my favorite painter.” You get a soft look on your face when you think about it. Sero gives a tiny, indulgent smile. “Sounds important to you.” “Yeah, it is.”  “Any particular reason?” Hm. You can’t think of a good reason why he would ask that question to benefit him. And telling a story is going to take up time. You look away from Sero, focusing instead on an old painting of a rice paddy in the corner. “Well… I didn’t have a lot of contact with my father when I was younger. It wasn’t until I was in high school that I was able to talk to him at all. My mother hated him, and hated that I was just like him, so she kept me from him while telling me that he didn’t want to see me.” It didn’t bother you anymore. It did back then, but you now had good relationships with both of your parents. You’d forgiven your mother long ago. “My father is an art collector. Talking to him got me interested in it too, and my interest and skills landed me in an art restoration career.” You pause, looking up at Sero. He’s looking at you curiously. “That artist had a small exhibit near his house, and that was where my father took me as an outing the first time I’d seen him since I was five.” Sero tilts his head slightly as he digests this information. “Oh. Yeah, I can see why that’s important to you. So you didn’t have an interest in art in middle school? I always saw that you were reading, but I never saw what.” He leans against a glass case, now more focused on you than what he’s looking for. “No. I, um, I wasn’t very outgoing. I preferred to be in the back of the room with a book. I wasn’t teased or anything like that, and I was more or less happy. I just didn’t know how to talk to my classmates the way the popular kids did.” You give a small, wry chuckle. “It was even worse when it came to you, since I liked you.” What??? Your eyes shoot wide just as one of Sero’s brows raise. “You liked me?” He pulls his face mask down and now you can see as his wide mouth curls up into a grin. As much as you don’t want to dive into this topic, you do notice that all of his attention is now on you instead of the artwork surrounding you both. So you decide to play it up a little.  You lower your eyes for a moment before shyly looking up at him through your lashes and nodding. You still did, if you were being entirely honest, despite his criminal record. His grin widens even more and he pushes off the case, sauntering over to where you’re sitting. One elbow crooks and he shoots tape at the ceiling. It sticks around a beam and holds, and he tears it from his elbow only to shoot another from the other one. You’re silent as he hoists you up to a standing position and adheres the pieces to the tape on your back. Keeping you there on your tip toes, off the floor just enough that you couldn’t put your feet flat on the ground. “And you didn’t say anything back then? I would have been thrilled to know that you felt that way.” Your breath hitches. Really? Had you wasted your chance back then? And is that what you’re going to think about right now when he’s here in the middle of the night attempting to rob your museum? But Sero’s moving in closer, and your eyes widen fractionally as your toes scramble a bit in an effort to back up. He notices and smirks. “And how about now? Is what I do a turn off?” His eyes are staring into yours, his voice dropping low. “Or… is it a turn on?” Your breath hitches, and your heart is beating so hard you’re sure he can hear it. He’s so close, and you can’t get away. Though… you know that you really don’t want to. He exhales slowly, his breath ghosting over your lips, before he closes the distance between your mouths. His lips are thin and slightly chapped, but he obviously knows what he’s doing. His mouth moves slowly, almost teasingly as he coaxes your mouth to move with his. He presses in closer to place one hand on the middle of your back and slide down to the small. You aren’t sure what exactly it is – the fact that you’re bound, the fact that you’re at your job, the fact that you liked him, the fact that he’s a criminal, or maybe all of them – but this is the most amazing kiss you’ve had in a while. If ever. There is the beginning of a knot of heat in your core as his tongue licks your lower lip, your mouth immediately opening to allow him entrance. You whimper slightly into the kiss, the noise turning into a soft whine when he pulls away from you. You open your eyes to see him smirking down at you. He’s still holding your body pressed to his, and you can easily feel without your hands how firm his muscles are. How strong he is. He has to be, really, to be able to swing around on his tape as fluidly as he does. But Sero had always been strong. You remember seeing him in the Sports Festival back when he went to UA High School, remember him during the cavalry battle. How he had easily caught a young Ground Zero in mid air with one arm and tossed him back on top of their group. You’d had that in your mind for months after the fact. “I guess it’s a turn on,” he murmurs, one hand going up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “So now the real question is… how much of a turn on is it?” He leans close, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You gonna let me get into that dress? I’d like to know what you taste like.” Your breath hitches, a shiver going down your spine. You want it, so fucking badly, but are you bold enough to let him? Well, it’s not like you have much of a choice, you reason with yourself. Sure, it’s probable that he won’t touch you if you say no, but you’re bound. Helpless. At his mercy. You hold your breath as he pulls back just far enough to look into your eyes, and you give the slightest nod on the exhale. His mouth curls into another smirk and he lets you go to back away. You look at him in confusion until he shoots more tape at the ceiling – two strands, that he attaches to your ankles and uses to keep your legs yanked into the air. Your dress hikes up to your hips when he pushes your thighs up and ties his tape to each one. This leaves you splayed open, suspended in front of him. On display for his dark eyes to rove over. He steps close to you again, both hands running on the outside of your thighs until they reach your hips. Then he moves to his knees to put himself at face level with your core. “Mm. Already wet for me, I see,” he says in a husky, teasing tone. Before you can formulate a quippy answer the hands on your hips dig in and he pulls your forward to his mouth. His wide, flat tongue licks up your damp panties and your breath is ripped from your lungs. He lets out a pleasurable groan. “Delicious. Just like I thought. But I’m sure it’d be better without these in the way.” Sero hooks his thumb into your panties and pulls them to the side before repeating his tongue drag. This time it pulls a strangled moan from you. He lets out another groan in response and pulls back just enough to look at you from between your legs. “That’s it, make more of those noises for me.” And he pulls you back in. You’d had oral sex before, sure. Roughly half of the guys you dated did it, and a decent number of them enjoyed it. It had always astounded you how much a guy wanted your mouth on his dick but didn’t want to return the favor. Sero Hanta, on the other hand, ate you like he was starving and you were the most decedant thing he’d ever tasted. His hands kept you pressed tightly to his face to the point that you’d probably be concerned for his ability to breathe if you could string a thought together. He seems like he’s everywhere at once. His tongue lapping up your sex before dipping inside of it, back out to drag up and circle your clit. Now and then he’d suck or gently bit it, causing a sharp increase in the moans he was pulling out of you. He had you strung up in a way that you really could only see the top of his head as he worked you over, so you could never quite tell what was coming next. You let out a noise of surprise that tapers into a moan when his first finger breaches you. “Look at you,” he breathes as he presses kisses to the insides of your thighs. “Opening right up for me.” He leans back far enough to be able to catch your eyes. “Such a good girl.” He curls his long, dexterous finger up to press against the small, spongy spot inside you that has you bucking in your restraints. He grins. Sero knows exactly what he’s doing. He slides his finger out only to press two back in as he leans forward. “Cum for me, babe?” he breathes out across your sex before wrapping his lips back around your clit. The sucking sensation coupled with the press against that spot inside you has you crying out and coming apart around him. He rolls his fingers as you ride through it while gently licking at your clit, your hips jerking and trying to get away from the over-stimulation. You’re slightly dazed as he rises up, grabbing your hips again and pressing his bulge into your soaked folds. Despite how sensitive you are, you can’t help but buck back into him. “Can I use your mouth, babe?” He tilts his head slightly, grinning when you enthusiastically nod your consent. You can’t quite find words, so… body language. Sero pulls a blade out from somewhere around his hip and cuts the tape to let your legs down. More tape shoots off, more tape is cut, you don’t really have the capacity to follow what he’s doing. Then you’re being moved. Sero tilts you forward until your face is level with his hips, but your toes are still just skimming the floor again. He has your hips bound up a little higher than your head and you look at him from under your lashes. He reaches out to skim fingers down the line of your jaw. “Beautiful,” he mumbles. Your heart swells with the praise, and you bite your lip before opening your mouth, sticking your tongue out, and looking back up at him. He curses under his breath and flicks his fingers under a nearly invisible seam at the crotch of his suit, revealing a button and long zipper. How convenient, you think as he undoes both and pulls his cock out through the hole. He immediately drops it so the head bounces on your tongue, hissing at how warm your tongue is. His cock isn’t particularly wide, but it is long and slightly curved upward. And he tastes so good, you really want to close your mouth and get to work, but you wait. He rocks his hips marginally to let the head slide a few centimetres and bites his lip.  “Fuck. You are a good girl. Go ahead and close your mouth, babe.” You happily oblige, feeling a thrill at the way his head tips back when you swirl your tongue around the head. He drops a large hand on your head but instead of guiding your head further down like most of the guys you’ve been with, he winds his fingers gently in your hair. His thumb starts rubbing soft circles on your head as he rocks his hips into your mouth. You want more. You’re very confident that you can take him down to the root, and you want to try. You try to push forward but it’s very awkward with your toes scrambling on the floor. He notices once you whine a little, and looks down with a chuckle. “You want more?” He steps forward a little, letting more of his length slide in until he bumps into the back of your throat. You let out a small moan and let your tongue dance around his underside to show your approval. He makes a guttural noise and starts to rock his hips into you faster. Harder. You hollow out your cheeks as you look up at him and he moans.  “Shit, I’m not gonna last if you do that,” he rasps out with a slight laugh. He manages a few more thrusts before he’s pulling out of your mouth. He’s panting a little and looking at you with a lopsided grin. "Damn babe, you're good with that mouth." You flush a little and smile. You’d been told that before, but somehow it was so much better coming from Sero. "Thanks. You're um, you're good with your tape." Sero’s face brightens, and his mouth curls up to a wide grin as he tucks himself back into his suit. "Yeah? Think so? You haven't seen the half of it.” Before you can question what he means by that the switchblade is out again. He cuts you down and lets you find your feet. The blade gets positioned at your hip, then Sero’s wrist flicks up. It cuts you out of the tape… and out of your dress.  “Sorry babe,” he murmurs with no real remorse in his voice. You open your mouth to protest your ruined dress but Sero pulls you close, pressing your bare chest to his body suit clad one and kiss you into silence. It’s not important. You have a dress in your locker. It’s fine. As you’re kissing you feel his fingers caress the line of your panties, along your hips, before he pulls on them slightly. He’s testing to see if he can remove them, you assume. You quickly pull them further down.  He chuckles into your kiss and swiftly crouches to help you out of them before tucking them into a nearly invisible back pocket. He gives you a cheeky grin and quickly removes the tape from your ankles. Technically you’re free now, but the thought to run doesn’t even cross your mind. You just wait until he straightens up and moves back in for more kisses. After a few moments you hear his tape shoot out again three times. He pulls back as he shoots a fourth. It binds around your bare chest, just under your breasts. “The anchor,” he says with a wink.  You tilt your head in confusion, and he pulls his arm back to rest his hand on the back of his neck. He pulls more tape from his elbow, a sizable piece. He starts to twist the tape and wrap you up. He attaches the tape to the front of the strip already on you, threads it up through your breasts, and attaches it at the back almost to your hip. He repeats that on the other side. He keeps making and twisting tape, wrapping around your ankles and wrists. He steps behind you and presses your wrists together, crossing them, and quietly asks you to keep them there. You do. His fingers skimming over your skin as he works you over it so erotic. He wraps tape around your elbows, not twisted, to keep your arms straight out. Sero takes one of the tape strands attached to the ceiling and attaches it to the tape on your back. Now you kind of understand what he meant when he said it was an anchor point.  “I’m gonna lift you up, okay?”  You exhale, already shaky. “Yeah. Yeah that’s fine.” He smiles and grabs your chin, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. Your heart skips a beat. He makes another tape rope and crouches down to affix it to your ankle. He runs fingertips with a feather light touch up the side of your leg as he rises. Then he pulls, your ankle coming up. He keeps pulling higher until your thigh follows. He binds your ankle to your wrist, then ties your lower thigh and upper leg together. The position keeps your leg up and folded in. He quickly repeats this with the other side before attaching the last two tape strands he shot off at first to your ankles. You’re suspended by your ankles and the middle of your back, arms stretched out and held in place behind you. Because your ankles are also attached to your wrists, if you shift or move one of them the others move too. You bite your lip as Sero walks around to your front. He traces fingers along your jawline again but this time he doesn’t stop, tipping your face up to his by your chin. “Gorgeous,” he breathes, reverence in his voice. Your face flushes, because he’s looking at you like you’re the most breathtaking thing he’s ever seen. He runs his thumb over your lower lip and your lips automatically part. He gives you a slight smirk and crouches so he can be face to face with you without removing his fingers from your face. “Now, I’d really like to fuck you. But if you don’t want to, I can use my mouth on you again instead.” His voice was soft, eyes watching your face for your reaction. You swallow, and nod. He chuckles a little. “I gotta hear you say it, babe.” “Yeah, yeah please. I want you to fuck me, Sero,” you gasp out in a rushed breath. He leans in and softly kisses your lips. “Good girl,” he whispers against your mouth and rises. You shiver in anticipation as you lose sight of him when he moves behind you. You’re straining to hear what he’s doing, and you hear the rustle of his clothes, the tearing of a wrapper. Your eyes widen as you feel his blunt head sliding along your still soaked folds. The tease is too much and you whine again, but you can’t push back against him. He’s taken all of your possible leverage away and now you really were entirely at his mercy. Large hands grab on to your waist as the first inch sinks in. You inhale and Sero quietly asks if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” you say with impatience in your tone, “Just waiting.”  Sero chuckles behind you. “Well, who am I to keep a lady waiting?” Air is punched out of your lungs as he sheathes himself in one thrust, then slides back out. One more hard thrust, a soft groan from him, and then he’s railing into you hard and fast. While he’s not the thickest man you’ve ever had, he is still a good size and the drag of his cock on your walls is making you cry out as it rubs against the small bundle of nerves inside you. And his length is incredible. He’s bottoming out with each thrust, and his leverage on your hips has him pulling you back as he pushes forward. Hard, deep, and driving you to a second release faster than you thought possible. Sero groans again and picks up his pace. “Fuck, yeah, that’s good baby. Look at you, sucking me in like this. You feel so good around me. Can’t wait to feel you cum on my cock.” His voice is so low, murmuring the words to you, and you clench around him. He hisses at the feeling, moaning out on his exhale. “That’s right, cum on my cock baby. Just let go.” One of his hands leaves your hip and he steps closer to you. You’re bouncing on him a bit more due to gravity than his grasp, and the free hand snakes down to rub sloppy circles on your clit. Five swipes and you’re done for, crying out loudly as your walls clamp down around him. He stops moving in you, still all the way inside, gently and slowly rubbing your clit as your ride out your orgasm. He doesn’t stop though, even as you come down and the pleasure starts to be too much. “S-Sero, I can’t-” “Sure you can, babe. I know you have one more for me.” He rolls his hips fractionally, barely an inch of his cock sliding in and out of you as he keeps his attention on your clit. Your thighs pulled back as far as they are prevent you from closing them to stop him, and it only takes a few minutes before you’re sobbing as another orgasm rips through you. Only now does he pull his hand away and moves so he is standing like he’d been. His hand returns to your bare hip. “See, I knew you had it in you. So fucking good for me.” You barely have time to process his words before he’s fucking into you hard again. He’s chasing his own orgasm now, and you desperately want to give it to him. You can’t touch him though, and you can’t wrap your legs around him to pull him closer. The only thing you can do is flex your walls, make the hole he’s fucking into tighter. It earns you a moan of appreciation that makes you giddy. “Shit, babe, I’m gonna-” He cuts off into a drawn out moan as he slams into you one more time, hard. Then a few softer thrusts. Then he’s done, and you’re both just panting. Desperate attempts to fully fill your lungs. It takes a full minute before Sero pulls out and starts to move. “Well… I must admit that I wasn’t expecting this particular type of art when I came here.” Sero huffs out a laugh and you blink in your post orgasm haze. He peels the condom off and pulls a small bag from his pocket to drop it into. The bag gets closed and shoved back in his pocket. Right, he doesn’t want to leave any evidence that he was here. You bite your lip as you try to stare at him over his shoulder. “Lotus Daydream isn’t here.” Sero looks at you in surprise when you blurt out the words. “It’s on loan to another museum. It’s been gone for three days.” He blinks in disbelief, and then bursts out laughing. “You sneaky little thing.” But he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds amused, even impressed. “I guess that theft-wise my trip was a bust.” Sero runs a hand over the side of his head, smoothing back some stray hair strands. He looks at you still hanging on display as if he’s trying to figure out what to do with you. You bite your lip in consideration. “I won’t say anything about you breaking in if you just leave. Since the piece you’re after isn’t here anyway.” It’s a long shot but worth a try. He frowns a little as he studies your face. You really wish that you could at least close your legs, if not actually get back onto the floor. “Yeah. Alright. You have a deal. You don’t say anything about me being here and I’ll let you go.” Your face brightens and his grows more serious. “But if I do find out that you said something… I’ll be coming after you. And you will desperately wish that you hadn’t. Do you understand?” “Yeah. I understand.” You’re proud that your voice is firm, and the frown turns back up to his wide, trademark smile. He pulls the switchblade back out to cut his tape, gently lowering you to the floor. Only now does he remember that he shredded your dress when he cut you out of his initial containment.  “I have a spare dress in my locker,” you say quickly. Sometimes – almost daily - you get the varnish on your clothes. Most days that doesn’t matter. You don’t really leave your office. But you do try to make sure you have a spare outfit in case you have to meet someone important. You blink as he says that he’ll grab it and he heads off. Somehow you aren’t surprised that he knows where the lockers are and that he can apparently pick your lock. He returns in moments carrying your dress draped over his shoulder. He carefully peels the rest of the tape off of your bare skin. His gentleness is surprising and makes your heart flutter. He’s going slow, careful to not hurt you. He lets you dress, comes with you to pick up your bag, and walks you to the door. He looks out over the street once you’re outside. “The video feed is on a loop. I put your guard to sleep, he’ll wake up without any knowledge that he was knocked out.” Sero gives a bright grin and a small two-finger wave, then shoots his tape up, retracting it to propel up and disappears onto the roof. You watch him go in awe. Sero was amazing in your mind back when you first met him but he was just stunning now. You glance at your watch to check the time. It’s late, the trains have already stopped. You don’t live that far from the museum though, maybe a twenty five minute walk. So you set off. You get three blocks before you hear a low whistle. “Hey baby, what’re you doing out by yourself this late at night? Wanna come party with us?” Your blood runs cold at the trio of men lurking at the alley entrance to your right. The smell of cheap sake invades your senses. Your hand goes to your pocket for your phone and a cold sense of realization washes over you. It had been knocked from your hands and was currently under a shelf in the artifact room. As you’re preparing to run a rough hand grabs you and yanks you into the darkened alley. A different hand clasps over your mouth, but drunks don’t have the best coordination or reflexes. You’re able to bite down hard on one of the man’s fingers. He yells and yanks his hand back, and you take the opportunity to let out a scream. One of the other men growls at you to shut up and smacks you hard upside the head. Your head snaps forward. It dazes you, and your head rolls back. You’re dizzy and can’t seem to focus on any of them. The third man laughs. Three different voices blend together, talking about what they intend to do to such a pretty little thing like you. You’re shoved and pinned up against the rough brick of the alley wall while they argue about who goes first, who goes where. You close your eyes, waiting for the touches you don’t want. But they never come. The hands pinning you leave you and you slide down to the ground. You hear shocked shouts, and when you open your eyes and your vision starts to clear you see a black, white, and yellow figure swinging from a rope – tape! - and kicking one of them drunken men in the face. They try to fight back, but three wobbly drunks are no match for Sero Hanta. He’s too fast, too agile, too strong. Your attackers are all out cold in the alley in under two minutes. Sero, not even breathing heavily from the exertion, lands gracefully on his feet turns to you. With a frown he gently gathers you up in his arms and brings a hand up to touch where they slammed you in the head. “...I heard you scream. Are you alright?” You don’t answer right away. Instead, you bring up a hand and cup his cheek. “You saved me,” you breathe out. Sero’s face softens, and he smiles. He brings you closer and leans down until your foreheads are touching. “Yeah,” he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I did, didn’t I? Let me get you home.”

[firerose]

The sea

Feedback is apprechiated ;)

Percy was happy. The giant war was over, he was studying with Annabeth so

they could move to new Rome soon. He was happy….. until it happened. 

The thunderstorm should have been a warning, a sign that the lord of the sky was angry but unfortunately Percy was tired of having to deal with the gods so he chooses not to notice it. He cursed himself for that later. 

He had stood up early that morning, awoken by another dream about the hell he and Annabeth had gone through. His mom had already been in the kitchen and he was greeted by her with a warm smile.“ Bad dreams?“, She had asked softly. Percy had only needed to nod and she pulled him into a warm hug. He loved her hugs, he loved that she had forgiven him for being away for so long, he loved his mother for everything. She was the reason the sea inside him was calm.

“Thanks, mom I just wanted to get some fresh air.“, He had told while departing carefully. Percy was grateful for her but he still did not want her to worry too much. If he had only known that this was the last time his mom would hug him, he would have stayed in her arms forever. 

Percy had taken his jacket and walked outside and then………

Thunder, a white light crashing down behind him throwing him forward with the price.

He lay still on the street while people around him ran out of their houses screaming in panic. 

Percy‘s body was burning, he felt blood running down his forehead but all he could think about was his mom who had been exactly where the explosion went off.

The police later assumed that a lightning strike had hit the apartment by accident but Percy knew better. He was brought to a hospital even though his burns were only small. 

He had insisted that he wanted to stay.“Please I have to see if my mom and my stepdad are okay!“, He had begged the paramedics but they did not stop their attempts to get him on the stretcher.“The fire brigade will find them kid. Everything is gonna be okay“, One of them promised but Percy saw in her eyes that it was a hollow promise. His heart ached in despair and when the doors of the ambulance closed tears fell down his cheeks. 

The proof came when the police visited him after the doctors had checked him. They looked devastated, of course, no one wants to tell a son the message that his pregnant mother was dead. Percy took the news with a small nod. He could not do more not even cry. He had been through so much that maybe this last thing had broken something inside him. He could not believe that they would do this, that they would kill his mother after he saved them. His thoughts wander to Paul and his unborn baby sister that he has lost as well and the sea in him slowly starts rising. 

Annabeth soon heard about his suspicion  She stormed into the small hospital room, her face tear-stained. He immediately wrapped her in a hug like it is her that is going through this tragedy.“Percy…...I…..I‘m so sorry.“, She sobbed.“It is not you fault wise girl….he did this.“, Percy claimed and he is surprised by the deadly calmness in his voice.

Annabeth looked at him in confusion but then she understood. Her eyes widened in shock.“No…... Percy……..he wouldn‘t……..“ She tried to say but her unbelieving in her own words stopped her. They both know Nico Di Angelo and they both know his mother died. Percy felt the waves crashing again his chest, he felt them threatening to burst out and so did his rage.“ Come on Annabeth you know Zeus. He is an arrogant asshole who just cares about himself! I fought years for the gods, I went through hell for the gods and now they… they.“, he wasn‘t able to speak anymore, there was too much rage boiling up inside him. He finally processed what happened and the sea in him roared with a desire. A desire for revenge. Annabeth pressed herself closer to him in comfort. She is scared, Percy‘swords scare her and yet she knows that there is nothing she can say to help him. She just hoped that she wasn‘t about to lose him. 

Percy was grateful for his girlfriend but he knew that he couldn‘t stay. The longer he stayed, the more his body was trembling and the sea roared louder.“ I want to talk to Zeus. Now.“, He told Annabeth could. She let him go her eyes full of something he never saw in them before.

Panic.

“ No Percy that is not a good idea! If he is targeting you then yelling at him would be a great excuse for him to…….. hurt you.“, She answers logically as always but her tone fearful. Percy can‘t help but feel angry at her words.

“I‘m not scared of Zeus and if he wants to kill me he is welcome to try! My mom did not deserve this you know that as well as I so don‘t try to stop me!“, He nearly yells and he departs from her quickly. The storm in him screams in agreement and he looks forward to setting it free, Annabeth hated herself for making him angrier. She loved Sally too so why doesn‘t she support Percy? What did Zeus or any other god ever do for her? A small voice whispers that she just wants to keep him safe but she can also do that against the gods. She gently grabbed his hand and gave him a weak smile.“Okay just let me come with you.“, She pleads and Percy feeling a warm thankfulness for her calming his waves a bit, smiled back. 

The man behind the desk looks at them in shock when they enter the building..“You shouldn‘t be here.“, he claims, his voice sounding a bit concerned. Percy felt cold amusement washing over him.

He killed scarier monsters than this old man. He takes out his sword without a second thought.“ We are exactly where we need to be now let us talk to Zeus or I will try my sword out on you.“, He threatened and did not notice Annabeth‘s worried glance.“You should listen to him! He once took down giant you are no match for him!“, Annabeth‘s voice sounded just as dark as his but she just wanted to keep Percy from doing something he would regret later. The man‘s eyes were stuck on the blade then wandered to Percy‘s eyes as if those could burn him.

He moved back a bit uncomfortable.“ Alright I‘ll let you up.“

Percy felt a sense of victory letting the water rise again. It pushed through his veins and when they entered the small elevator his body tensed from the power it made him feel. The gods would pay for taking his family. They would see what happened if someone pushed him too far. Maybe some days ago he wouldn‘t have felt this darkness but a few days ago he also had a mother. He was overtaken by memories, of her soft voice, her laugh and her hugs. He wondered if it would make her sad to see how angry he was but she certainly was also sad to be killed there was no difference anyway. The memories hurt but they also foiled his anger. 

Percy and Annabeth walked down the way to the god's council in silence. The minor gods and nymphs whispered and pointed at them, their eyes worried some even pitiful. They all knew Percy‘s story and they all feared him.

Only Zeus and Hera were in the throne room  When Percy walked in his eyes immediately landed on Zeus who glared at him in outrage.“HOW DARE YOU COM HERE?!“, The Lord of the skies shouted in fury but Percy did not even wince.  Instead, he glared back.

"How dare you kill my mom?!." Percy spat back. Zeus only looked annoyed but the others gods looked at each other uneasily. Zeus shook his head like he wanted to get rid of a nasty fly.

" My boy, there are things that you don't understand. I'm sorry about your mother but sometimes cruelty is necessary to prevent worse.", Zeus explained and Percy felt as if he had been punched in the gut. How could this all immortal god talk about an innocent woman death like that? He felt disgusted at Zeus rising and Annabeth spoke it out.

"Sally Jackson was a mortal woman! How could she have been any danger to you?", Annabeth asked her voice full of angry disbelief."Well it was more about her child than her, "Hera responded and maybe there was a hint of regret in her voice.

" Silence wife!", Zeus told her harshly but Percy's blood already froze."You.....you killed her because of me?", He asked fear numbing his fury. He hoped that he had just heard wrong but he was the only child of Poseidon so they could only mean him. Zeus sighed as if this whole situation bored him."Apollo gave me a prophecy that said that she would have a child with Poseidon that could end my sign that is all you need to know." Zeus said defensively and a dam in Percy that held back the growing stormy sea finally broke. Zeus had killed his mother because of a prophecy? 

Of course, gods always sed prophecies to harm others,

Percy balled his hands into fists his ears ringing." That is your excuse? you were scared so you just killed my pregnant mother in front of me? She was going to have a baby. She was happy and you killed just because of your god complex!" Percy accused Zeus, his voice trembling with anger. The waves were rushing through his veins and he can feel it in the veins of Zeus and Hera as well  Not as much but it was there flowing through their veins like calm waves. "I told you you would not understand now leave before I make you Perseus.", Zeus commands but that only makes Percy turn to him. 

Persues...

His mother called him that because she wanted him to have a happy life...

Percy slowly opens his hand his senses searching for a certain source of water. When they find it Percy feels a tug in his fingers. He smiles darkly at Zeus."I think you underestimate what I'm capable of my lord. you really should have killed me instead of my loved ones.", Percy muses and he follows the tug by moving his hand forward, pushing back the waves in Zeus body. The god looked stunned for a moment even confused but then his body god thrown back so that his head smashed against his thrown. The stone cracked and Annabeth gasped in shock together with the other gods." Percy!" Annabeth yelled terrified at her boyfriend's power. Percy couldn't hear her. He could only focus on Zeus and how he was held in place by an invisible force his force. He wondered how much he could hurt a god.

He moved his hand to the side and Zeus growled in anger as he tried to resist the painful control he was under. Percy took a deep breath he was not sure what too now should he let Zeus go? Should he show the gods mercy? Then he remembered his mother and how she had died in a fiery explosion. He looked into Zeus blue angry eyes and he calls for the water in the god's throat, His hand makes a gesture like he was strangling someone and immediately Zeus grasps his own his gasps for breath was music in Percy's ears. He feels Annabeth shaking him begging him to stop with sobs in her voice. Hera watches the situation as if it was a very interesting movie. She was not at Percy's side but seeing the man who cheated on her so often be choked to please her too much to interfere.

Percy loved seeing Zeus so helpless, he loved when his other hand made the gods nose bleed with golden blood. Zeus looked in much pain and Percy loved every second of it." Now you know what it feels like to be a demigod. It's painful and you wish that the suffering would end but it never does. How do you like that?", Percy jokes and closes his hand a bit more. Zeus face turned red his eyes nearly popping out of his skull."Percy stop....please stop." Annabeth pleads and there is something in her voice that makes him hesitate." Sally would not want you to do this!", Annabeth said her voice shaking in horror. The words echo in Percy's mind and painful guilt helps to dim his inner flame. What would his mother say if she could see him right now? He was harming others with his powers just like Zeus had. 

His rage dies down like the sea after a long storm. He opens his hand and lets go of Zeus blood. The god nearly fell off his throne as he gasps for air. Percy still felt satisfaction at that sight. He turned to Annabeth who held onto his arm, her face pale from what she had seen." I'm sorry Annabeth.", He said and he really meant it. He shouldn't have scared her like this, he should have just told her not to come with him. Annabeth gently squeezes his hand. She understood Percy#s anger and she even shares it but she still prays that he will never lose himself to his power ever again. Zeus had regained his strength and his eyes blazed with electricity." YOU WILL DIE FOR THIS!", Zeus yells but Percy only felt a surge of frustration at those threats. After all that had happened to Zeus, he was still a god that was full of himself and would not learn anything from this. Percy looked at him coldly." No, I will not. Haven't you learned what happens when you make me angry?" Percy asked dangerously calm. He felt tired of all this talking and especially Zeus. He took Annabeth's hand and left as he suspected no one tries to stop them. The sea in his body has calmed down again but Zeus who is watching him from his throne can tell that he has changed. The sea can start raging again any moment and maybe it was Percy that the prophecy referred to. Maybe he  will be the end of the gods after all.

@emilydaughterofapollo @perseusjackson-jasongrace @incorrectinfinity, @reading0mens @fictionalnormalcy

[dontcallmecarrie]

continuation of this, because why not:

.

“Oh, this is fun,” Loki hadn’t realized just how irritating his voice could get until now, was this why the Soldier kept throwing knives at him? 

“I am only dragging you along because our interests align for now, do not expect this to continue.” He snapped over his shoulder, keeping an eye out for any potential attack even as the alarms continued to blare. He was lucky his counterpart was in such poor shape; had he even had a fraction of his usual power available, this entire enterprise would be much, much more difficult. 

As it was, Loki was faintly impressed his counterpart had accomplished as much as he had when he was running on fumes. When he wasn’t sneering at the sloppiness of his plans, anyway. Magical compulsion or no, what kind of idiot went and paraded about proclaiming their intentions for subjugation?

“Come now. Do you honestly expect me to believe this isn’t to your advantage? Unleashing double the chaos.” 

It was a pity breaking the magical compulsion had done nothing for his counterpart’s mental state. On a number of levels— he was a stone’s throw away from madness, all jagged pieces aimed outwards and it was uncomfortable to look at for too long for reasons Loki preferred not to dwell upon. 

Well. At least he could use it to his advantage. 

.

Victor was not a happy camper. 

First had been the discovery that, as he’d suspected, that damn gun had landed him in another universe. 

Second, said universe was quite possibly his worst nightmare.

Because his country didn’t exist, hadn’t existed for decades now: the Latverian civil war in this world had decimated its people in more ways than could be named, neighboring countries had snapped up just about every scrap of territory his men had fought and died for and goddamn HYDRA was using war orphans for their experiments.

...had he been a bit hasty when he’d taken out the first base he’d encountered? Sure. Sorting out the logistics for taking care of all the victims he’d encountered was a major pain in the neck, and this accelerated his plans for establishing himself in ways he hadn’t entirely expected. Klaue was as annoying as ever, and, if possible, even more of an arrogant bastard to deal with in this strange world.

Did Victor regret it? Absolutely not.

Especially when it resulted in his encountering his first ally in this hellscape. 

...though this ‘involuntary twin’ thing would get old fast, he just knew it.

“Hello, Winter.” Victor greeted with a smile. “Looks like you’ve been busy, too.”

.

The Winter Soldier could not believe that Justin’s stupid self-help books had been good for something, but here they were.

Him, and the poor bastard who shared his face and was now stuck in that incredibly awkward stage between ‘living weapon approximately three seconds from Murder’ and ‘going through deprogramming’, smack-dab in the middle of what had used to be a HYDRA stronghold but was now a bloodbath because somewhere in between fighting himself, and everyone else coming at them, the other Winter Soldier had started breaking through his programming.

He hadn’t realized just how much progress he’d made, until now. 

“What do you want me to call you?” He asked again with a tired sigh.

“The Asset does not nee—”

“Oh, fuck no. Pick something else, you’re a human being, you have value.” ...goddamn it, he sounded just like Justin. 

Ugh. Justin could never, ever know, he’d never let him live it down...okay, the worst part is that he would, not that the idiot with a death wish needed any encouraging when it came to this sort of thing.

The man’d had a knife to the neck, and still offered him food, offered him help. The Winter Soldier gave his counterpart a dubious glance, and fought back a shudder. 

As much as he sympathized with the guy— he’d been there, literally— the idea gave him chills.

Though...he could almost see it, now. If he squinted, he could see the tiniest speck of self-determination that HYDRA had tried its best to crush into oblivion, the ghost of a hint of personality in the twitch of his right hand, the way his left hand curled. 

“Right, okay.” He sighed. Again. He probably sounded like a goddamn teakettle, but fuck it, he was at the end of his rope here, dealing with people was Justin’s thing, he was much better at punching people. “If you’re anything like me, you’re going to have some serious migraines in the next few months, and no, aspirin doesn’t do shit. You have questions, means your personality’s coming back up which is good... oh, you’ll probably want to stick around for answers because I’m about as confused as you are.” 

Because this is what happened the one (1) time he tried to be nice and check up on Justin’s friend group. He could’ve been chasing down that lead in Argentina, but no, he was stuck here instead. 

Ugh. 

.

Ivan was running on spite, caffeine, and not much else. 

Living on the streets was a pain in the ass, exacerbated by the fact that he was apparently supposed to be dead and...buried? Cremated? He wasn’t entirely sure, none of the sources he’d found had been able to specify and to be completely honest, he hadn’t tried too hard to look.

Just seeing his own name in the articles had been disturbing enough, the realization that a version of him had apparently gone through with his suicidal plot was...something. Not great. His vodka stash back home was going to take a hit as soon as he got back. 

As disturbing as reading his own death had been, it’d still been no match for what he’d been able to find on the man who’d given him another reason to live. 

Because this world’s Justin Hammer was still alive and well, and locked up in an unspecified supermax for the foreseeable future, and...

An incompetent idiot with far more money than brains, apparently.

Which was so far from the man he knew it was hilarious, because Justin’s charisma had been enough to get a dictator of a sovereign nation wrapped around his finger without even trying, had the boogeyman of the intelligence world on speed-dial and an alien god as his bodyguard-slash-PA. He was untouchable on a number of levels, so when Ivan had first read that article?

He hadn’t believed it, at first. 

Had been certain it was an imposter, and while he probably should’ve spent that time researching how to get back home, he’d instead ended up down a rabbit hole of what kind of man Justin Hammer was in this world.

Call it morbid curiosity, or whatever— but Ivan had to know.

It wasn’t like he was making much progress on his own, anyway, not when his resources were staggeringly limited.

And then. 

A sleek car pulled up by the overpass where he’d been sleeping, and the window rolled down to reveal a face Ivan was inordinately glad to see. 

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping.” Loki called, and Ivan didn’t even question why there were two of him. Or why his twin looked like a grad student during finals week.

“Mean Girls? Really?”

“He was correct in calling it a classic.” Loki replied with a haughty sniff as he pulled away from the curb. “Besides— from what I’ve seen, I also know more about this world’s culture than their Captain.”

His twin looked lost, as he stared between them both and whoops, that was probably a terrible first impression. “Is this one of your allies?”

“Yes.” Ivan said, even as Loki spoke.

“When he’s not blasting us all to other dimensions, certainly.” 

“It was an accident!”

It was a good thing Loki had so much practice driving, because he would have gotten very nervous by the way their eyes met in the rearview mirror otherwise. “Oh, I know. I’ve told you—”

“There is no innovation without risk—” Ivan defended, only for Loki to snort.

“Have fun explaining that to Victor.” 

Ivan froze for a moment, breath stilling in his throat. On a good day, Victor was the epitome of a type-A personality...

“He’s here too?”

“Oh, yes. Not sure where exactly, but how do you think we found you?”

“If you say magic—”

“Are all your allies mortals?” Loki’s twin asked with just the slightest hint of a sneer, and just like that all levity was gone and Ivan didn’t even need to meet Loki’s gaze to know his answer.

“If you have a problem with that, feel free to leave. Right now.”

“Come now—”

“Ivan here blasted us all across space and time, without tearing open any paradoxes or destroying any timelines, entirely by accident. Victor? Is the ruler of a sovereign nation feared and respected throughout the realm. I do not know your approach to such things here, but any insult to my allies is an insult to me.”

.

Ivan...probably shouldn’t have been too surprised to discover that Victor had not only amassed a following of rabidly loyal minions, but also managed to meet up with the Winter Soldier. Er... two Winter Soldiers.

Man, this was going to feature in his nightmares for months.

“Where’s Justin?” Was the very first thing Victor said upon seeing them, and he cringed as the rest traded looks because of course the one who’d introduced them to each other was the missing link now. Justin was hands-down everyone’s favorite, and if Ivan was stuck being the one to break it to them after having spent hours hacking just to get a name?

Man, this was not going to be pretty.

“First, you have to promise not to get mad.”

“What.”

Ivan told them.

...suffice it is to say, nobody was happy to hear the answer.

.

“Okay then.” Victor said, face impassive save for the way his eyes gleamed. “It’s been a while since I did a prison break, anyway.”

[purposefully-lost]

More thoughts on the ghost guy??? I haven't decided yet what like.. decade he died in or anything, but it's definitely been less than a century. He died maybe in his mid-20's, and he died arrogant. Enough so that at the moment of his death, a demon approached him and knew for certain that he would make a deal.

I'm thinking he got involved with a bad crowd as a kid and spent his life as something of a criminal. Nothing notorious, he never made a name for himself, but he and his small crew were part of a number of robberies and maybe once or twice, acted as hit men.

He died in some kind of confrontation with either the cops or a rival gang?? He was with his best friend of several years (who he was maybe in love with) and died from a bullet wound. Initially, as he was bleeding out, he'd believed they survived, and that partially factored into why he made a deal to keep going. It was a huge slap in the face to get up and realize they were long gone, maybe even before he'd gotten hit himself.

He's mellowed out in the years since and hasn't really decided if, or what, he regrets. He exists in that kind half-tangible state; on a regular day, some people can see him and some can't. Some can, but their minds kind of.. wash over him, replace the memory as soon as he's out of sight. He needs a lot of energy if he really wants to make an impact or do something particularly grueling, which is when either people around him start getting cold and tired, or the power starts going out. Not a lot of that these days, though. Most of his poltergeist-y moments came when he was still freshly raised from the dead and throwing tantrums about his new situation.

I'm,, thinking I'm calling him Oscar okay thank you fbdbCNDN

[bookaddict24-7]

I said at the beginning of the year that I would share my reviews more on my blog instead of just on Instagram and Goodreads. I’ve been reading a lot so far this year, so my reviews will be delayed on here.

Friend me on Goodreads here to read my reviews in real-time!

___

107. Amari and the Night Brothers by B.B. Alston--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Wow, this book had more of a punch than I anticipated! I think books like this one are super important--not just because of the content, but because of the audience it's geared towards. Young readers now are learning more and more about society than a lot of us did at their age, so I think it's perfectly fitting that a book like this one is out there for kids to devour. One of the things I liked the most about this book was the allegory of racism in a magical community. Usually in fantastical novels for kids (older ones, anyway), there's this belief that no matter what you look like, the moment you go to another magical place all of your worries about racism goes away because MAGIC. But in this one, not only did our MC have to contend with the racism in her normal life, she had to face more racism in her new life, just with a new title. So many of the actions taken against her by those around her, and the comments (like putting her brother on a pedestal because he was the star of the school and calling him the exception to the rule, or one girl actively telling her that "You can take the girl out of the ghetto, but not the ghetto out of the girl) really made me think that this poor kid went from one ignorant situation to another. Not only is she trying to find her brother and solve the mystery of his disappearance, but she also has to deal with racist and ignorant people around her. Imagine calling a child evil because of something they can't control. Imagine going out of your way to ensure that they fail. Imagine you or your child hearing the things this child heard while trying to just do her best in a system that's always been made to be against her, both in the human world and in the magic world. Imagine, imagine, imagine. Another thing I loved about this book was her resilience. She is brave, and smart, and has such a big future in this new world of hers. I'm so excited to read the rest of this series as it comes out. This book was POWERFUL and I highly recommend it. Not just for the young readers in your life, but I think parents and other readers would highly benefit from reading Amari's story.

___

108. Mindy Kim & the Yummy Seaweed Business by Lyla Lee--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Okay, this book was ADORABLE. I haven’t read a 6-8 book in a long time and I’m thankful to my friend on Instagram who recommended these books! Mindy has to deal with not only her grief about losing her mom and her dad’s busy schedule (as well as his own grief), but she’s also at a new school in a new State where she is the only Asian student. I’ve mentioned this in some of my most recent reviews, but I love that these important topics are being discussed in children’s books. We see moments of racism in this book where Mindy is left upset, even if she doesn’t fully understand just why certain comments and actions are so hurtful. And even if she doesn’t dwell on it, a parent reading this with their little one would notice and hopefully learn if they see their own behaviours mirrored in the actions of some of these adults. But we also see moments of kindness and love as a young girl tries her best to find ways to make her dad happy. Despite the heavier undertones in this book, there was an overall feel of sweetness and childhood innocence. The ability to apologize when you know you’re in the wrong, the innocence of emotions getting away from you, and the sweetness of a daughter loving her father. This was a great read and I highly recommend it for everyone, but especially the little ones in your life who will be entering situations where books like these and their lessons are really important.

___

109. The Dead Zone by Stephen King--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one, I felt, held more of an emotional punch rather than a creepy feeling. I really enjoyed it! I loved the psychic angle and the MC proving the people who didn’t believe him or mocked wrong. Also, this was a King book that actually made me want to cry at the end. I didn’t give it a 5 because of some really slow moments. While I love that his stories always have a way of coming together at the end, certain scenes sometimes feel long, boring, or confusing. I’d recommend this for anyone who wants to read a King book that isn’t scary and if you’re a fan of 11/22/63!

___

110. Takane & Hana Vol. 1 by Yuki Shiwasu--⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one took me a while to read. I found that I wasn’t really in the mood to read it every time I picked it up—which is so different from when I pick up a manga I really want to read. The story had some funny bits and the artwork was gorgeous, but it really bugged me how every new chapter re-introduced the love interest. Over and over and over again. I get it: he’s rich, arrogant, and an asshole. Can’t you trust us to remember these key personality traits? But it wasn’t even just that. We were constantly re-introduced to the premise of the story. I don’t know how common this is WITHIN the same volume, but I haven’t encountered it yet—and if I have, it wasn’t as annoying as this one. I’ll keep reading the story because I’m curious, but this first volume was a bit of a rougher read for me.

___

111. You Have A Match by Emma Lord--⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

I think the thing with this book is that the cover tells a different story than what really matters in this book. Yes, there’s a friends to more relationship in this, but the main storyline is about two girls who find out they’re sisters and are trying to solve that mystery. This isn’t a romcom—the romance is a super side story to the main storyline. And to be honest, I really enjoyed it. I wanted to see why these two sisters lived their whole life separated. I enjoyed the process and the friendships created along the way. I felt for the parents, but at the same time, I felt more for the girls. There were instances where I wanted to yell at the parents because they kept putting the reveal off. This was enjoyable overall—a great summer read. Not particularly memorable, but it does what it sets out to do: makes you question the strength of friendships and what they can overcome. Also, Instagram.

___

112. Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

When my friend raved about this book I was both excited and intimidated. I usually try to avoid hypes surrounding books because I go in with too-high expectations and a lot of the time, the expectations crush me while I’m reading. Thankfully, the hype is very well-deserved with this one. For me, the most important aspect of this book that stuck with me wasn’t the mystery surrounding the MC’s cousin’s death, but the character growth the MC himself experiences during the time of his investigation. Identity sounds like a pretty clear cut thing sometimes, but it’s a lot harder to know your own when you’re the child of an immigrant family. You live in a new country, get accustomed to new expectations and customs, and inevitably feel a culture shock when you’re re-introduced to the culture your parents grew up in. I saw myself so much in this MC. From my childhood to my current adult years, people have thought that they could define me and who I am simply because I say I’m this or this. But while others make a quick judgment, they don’t see the internal struggle. They don’t see you questioning yourself on whether you’re enough of this, or whether you’re enough of that. I think teenage me would have loved this book even more. The MC is constantly faced with criticism about his father choosing to move them to the States from the Philippines. The judgments and the preconceived notions of him and his family make him not only weary because he recalls how his uncle treated his father the first time he visited, but also wary because it sets him down this road of self-reflection. I haven’t read many (if any, unfortunately) books where a character goes to the Philippines. I’m so thankful to this book. I learned so much about the culture, the foods, and the struggles faced not just financially, but politically as well. I remember reading about some of the topics brought up in this book and it was extremely eye-opening. It’s so easy for us to look away because we have that privilege, but this book says, “No, look at me. I exist.” The MC, in his journey, also learns to speak up and use his voice. Not just against ignorant friends, but an annoyingly smug and verbally abusive uncle (who I hated to all hell). He also learns to listen. He learns that though not every story is perfect, they still have power. I think this is a great read for those who have one foot in two different worlds (hands and arms can be in other worlds, too). Especially if you’re trying to understand this part of you that wasn’t developed as you grew up. I’d also recommend it to readers who want to learn more about this struggle, learn more about a different culture that is more than its stereotypes, and/or want to read about a young teenager trying to come to terms with his grief and guilt.

___ Have you read any of these books? Would you recommend them?

___

Happy reading!

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

I am so living for your angst right now, if you're feeling up tonite, could you do something where the boys poly neglect their mate, she breaks away from them and finds someone new and despite the boys reealizing shes distanced, they try to claw their selves back in, it doesn't work? Or it can be a makeup type thing, I'll leave that up to you

Okay, so this is definitely gonna be angsty. Also, I’m using the “someone new” to basically include Michael in this. Sorry not sorry. I hope you enjoy!!

Exploring My Options (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader, Michael x Fem!Reader) fic

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 2540

They hadn’t meant to neglect you. They really hadn’t. You had been with them for so long, they’d just become too used to you. You were a constant background, and, usually, at least one of them would be paying attention to you. Not that night, however. But, then again, this wasn’t the first time this had happened.

You were used to them flirting with other women. Even sleeping with them. How could you not be? You all had to eat, and pretty, young girls were easy pickings for your boys. Just like drunk assholes were for you. You knew that they hadn’t meant to ignore you. If you brought it to their attention, there would be a flurry of looks and blame. David would probably look at one of the blondes, and there would be a quick exchange of, 

“Wasn’t it your turn tonight?” Or Dwayne would apologize and stick by you until the two of you had to feed. Paul might even drag you away for some attention, some ‘loving’ of your own. Marko might tease you and tell you to cheer up. He’d say,

“Is someone jealous, babe?” With his usual smile etched across his face. It would be over as quick as it had happened, but you didn’t feel like bringing it up to them. Pointing it out. Why did you have to? You’d done it before, yet it always seemed to happen again. So, instead, you decided to see how long it would last. That had been two hours ago, and now you were starting to get pissed. You left their sides, secretly hoping that one of them would notice the fact that you had completely left. But none of them called after you. Not one of your mates seemed to care.

It made tears prick in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. Whatever. It was fine. It wasn’t like you had been with them for nearly half a century. If they wanted to focus more on their food, they could. The bastards. 

Anger was brewing inside you with each step you took away from the four. The farther you wandered, the more it hurt. Whenever you felt a brush of fingertips or heard a voice similar to theirs, part of you sparked. But, when you looked over your shoulder and none of them were there, it was snuffed out just as quick. It had been three hours in total. You’d been away from them for hours, and none of them seemed to notice. Finally, your heart started to crack. 

Could they really forget you this easily? Could they go on same as always without you there? As if you’d never been there at all? Did any of them even care about your bond? 

You could feel tears brimming your eyes, and you had to quickly wipe away a stray tear. You didn’t want to cry in public, and if you started you wouldn’t be able to stop. So, you turned towards the nearest distraction. There was a live show playing right on the beach. Usually, Paul would take you. But that was only when some heavy metal band was playing. The guy on stage had a saxophone and was oiled up so much it was almost comical. But there was electricity in the air, and it was the opposite of what was settling inside your still, cold heart. So, you descended down into the sand and wormed your way into the crowd.

You were used to catching attention. It was just what happened. Usually, it’d be a drunk surf-nazi who was more content with just fucking your brains out instead of actually finding out your name. But a boy, one that you’d never seen before, was staring at you. You caught his eyes. They were blue, like two of your lovers. But not ocean or crystal like their’s were. They were dark, and almost grey. His hair was curly and brown, and his jaw was angular and square. You didn’t have a single boy like him. He smiled at you, but you didn’t smile back. Instead, you turned and walked out of the crowd.

You hadn’t meant for him to follow you, but there he was. You knew you were heading back towards the boys. You could feel their pull, your bond guiding you back to them. But, perhaps, you didn’t walk as quickly as you could’ve. You knew he was getting closer, and you only slowed just a little bit more. So, he was right behind you. A hand grabbed your wrist, but only to grab your attention. It dropped the minute you looked over your shoulder, and you saw the boy from earlier. You had been wishing for one of your boys to do the very same the entire night, and the action made you decide something. If your boys were so concerned with their meals, then you’d amuse yourself with other pleasures just the same. 

“Hi. What’s your name?” He asked, and you gave him a small smile. You gave it to him, and he quickly supplied his own. “I’m Michael.” After only a short conversation, he was leading you to his bike. It wasn’t too far away from where your boys were, and you knew that they were probably close by. All on their own set of wheels. You chuckled to yourself when you saw it. It reminded you of your boys, and, for a moment, you thought that he wasn’t so different from them. “You wanna grab something to eat?” He asked, and you smiled. You tilted your head, and you debated eating him. He was pretty. Almost unfairly so. It’d be a pity to waste such a face.

You felt a mental tap, and you didn’t have to look to see where it’d came from. The boys had noticed your absence, and who you were with. You shut it out. Shut them out. If they wanted you, they should have done something about it already. Now, you had someone else to amuse yourself with.

“I already ate, but you said you’re new, right? Maybe I could show you around Santa Carla.” You offered, and he gave you a wide smile. It was petty, you knew. You were telling the others exactly what you planned on doing with this boy. He wasn’t a meal, at least not tonight. He got onto his bike, and said,

“That sounds great.” And then there was a roar of bike engines all around you. You rolled your eyes when you heard David’s voice behind you, and you gave him a flat look. He tilted his head and asked,

“Where you goin’, y/n?” He asked, and the same anger from before flared up. Oh, he had nerve. He’d ignored you, all of them had, for practically the entire night and, now, he was interrupting you? You frowned at him. David didn’t scare you, none of them did. You were their mate. The only one that had to worry was Michael.

“For a ride. David, this is Michael. I was gonna show him around.” You said, and your boys didn’t seem pleased. They had circled his bike, preventing him from driving off. Even so, he reached for your hand and quietly said,

“Let’s go.” And you gave the others a pointed look. David frowned, as did the rest. Well, except Paul. He had an easy smile on his face, but his eyes were sharp. Trained on the brunette, and sizing him up.

David called your name and raised his brows. You knew what he was doing, and you could hear his voice in your head. What do you think you’re doing? He asked. You gave him a small smile, and you tilted your head. Exploring my options. You replied, and you gave Dwayne a look. You silently told him to move his bike, and his face hardened. Dwayne stared at the other brunette, and then he looked at David. David was their leader, but you were their mate. The only girl in their pack. It gave you a certain unspoken power, to hold all of their hearts in your hand. None of them ever wanted to upset you, but that was exactly what they had done. Silently, Dwayne moved his bike to the side, giving Michael barely enough room to leave from where they had trapped him. There was a flurry of thoughts in response, but Dwayne stared at you. He knew that if they stood in your way, you’d only widen the gap that had developed between them. As angry as David had been in all of your heads, you knew that he knew the same.

It’s why Michael wasn’t dead the next night, or the night after that, or the night after that. They didn’t know what you were doing, but you were giving them a taste of their own medicine. If they didn’t want to pay attention to you, then you didn’t have to pay attention to them. It didn’t matter who you arrived with. You always left the boardwalk with Michael. He was sweet. He reminded you of when you and your boys had first started dating. He was completely enamored with you, and he followed you around like a stray dog. He begged for any scraps of attention, and his devotion would always make a smile creep across your face.

Your boys were becoming restless. David was tightening his grip even time you drifted further away. He was determined to keep you, but he let Michael have you in the meantime. He was going to wait until you got bored or hungry. A more arrogant part of him thought that it would be over soon, but that certainty became more and more fragile the longer he lasted. He was becoming angry, and he had once made a comment about ‘turning him if you like him so much’. But you knew David would like nothing less. Instead, he settled for icy glares and sharp words in passing.

Paul was impulsive. He tried to draw you back with affection. He kissed you longer and harder before you left the cave, and his attention barely left you. You were the one that always left them. He held your hand ever so tightly before he was forced to drop it, and he practically dragged you to your nest every time you came home reeking of the blue-eyed brunette. You never did anything with Michael, but it drove him just as insane as if you did. He’d scent mark you for hours, and he didn’t try to hide his displeasure when you didn’t return the gesture. He whispered, 

“Why are you doing this? Don’t you want me anymore?” But you’d always assured him the same way he had assured you. You told him that he was your mate, that you’d never not want him. But you knew how empty those words felt on that side of them. How they barely helped.

Dwayne was a silent storm. He watched every move Michael made. He watched how you barely entertained them. He was silent, and he never made a comment to him. Instead, he’d kiss you before you left. Always on the forehead. It was a silent reminder, to both you and Michael. You were his. You were theirs. He’d tilt your chin up afterwards. He was waiting for the day that you would lean up, press a kiss to his lips and finally decide to end whatever game you were playing. Waiting for the same exact day that David was. He’d stare down at you, but he wouldn’t even speak to you over your mental link. When you slipped out of his grasp, he let you.

Marko could barely stand this. He wouldn’t get off his bike when Michael approached to draw you away. He’d grip the handlebars so hard you were sure one day he was going to break them. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were alight with anger. He glared at Michael, almost just as fiercely as David did. You’d heard his thoughts on multiple occasions. Just say the word. He’d thought once, and you’d given him a glare right back. He’d scowled the moment your eyes met, and he’d clicked his jaw before he’d driven off. He was the most hotheaded of the four, and he would do something you’d make him regret if he lost his temper.

They had no intention of letting you go, and they each tried to claw their way back in. They tried to win you back by letting you do what you wanted. When you failed to grow bored, they took Pauls route. They layered on the affection, even if their growing anger tainted it. Finally, after nearly four weeks, Marko snapped. He kicked over a lit barrel, spilling the flames onto the cave floor. You hadn’t even gone to the boardwalk yet.

“That’s it! I’m killing him.” He said, and he headed straight for the entrance of the cave. As if he was going to do it as soon as possible. You snatched his wrist and he ripped it right out of your grasp. It had been the tipping point for the both of you. Words had been screamed between you, and the others didn’t know whether to join or stay out of it. They decided that was their own choice to make. Dwayne ended up being the only one sticking to the sidelines as the four of you screamed at eachother. It had taken hours for the fighting words to finally be put aside and for them to get out why you were doing this. 

You’d felt ignored. Not just that night but several nights for years. It had been growing. A doubt that had wormed it’s way into your heart and head. That night had just been particularly bad. That night had just been your tipping point. You hadn’t even slept with Michael, barely grazed the tip of the iceberg of what they’d done with other women. You wanted someone that would pay attention to you. Someone that followed you around like you were everything they ever wanted. You admitted it as sobs escaped your throat, and you pushed them away when they tried to hold you close. They ignored your attempts, and you were pulled into a hug by all four of them. You tried to struggle, tried to stay mad. But it was useless. Their scent always calmed you, and you’d barely gotten to hold or be held by them in the past few weeks. You relaxed and sobbed, and David held you to his chest. They each whispered soft words to you, and your chin had been lifted to press even softer kisses to your lips. Words of assurance and affection had been passed between all five of you. How you would never truly leave them, and how they only ever wanted to come back to you.

They didn’t bother taking you to the boardwalk that night, and the next time they did you’d convinced them not to slaughter Michael.

“You know, he really isn’t that bad. You might even like him.” You told them, and they all scoffed and rolled their eyes. Yeah, sure, they would.

[mercuryislove]

Don’t hate me but… I kinda want you to answer all of the deep dive WIP asks 🥺 if that’s unreasonable tho, just 2, 9, and 10 please!

I am SORRY for the delay!!! i answered every question for BOTH projects so you're in for like.... several thousand words of shit that makes absolutely no sense, but i hope you you enjoy it! :)

1. Who are two characters that don't like each other? What do they reveal about each other to the readers? Will they ever learn to put aside their differences?

White Crane: okay this is hard because like. so many people do not like each other. (I know I made a post once about how terrible it would be to be one of twenty-eight people that have the power of dead gods but are trapped in stupid human bodies and you're all a thousand years old and hate each other so so so so so much because you all SUCK.) But for the sake of simplicity, I will talk about Ciaran and Sihla who never got along but only played nice to keep Anwei happy. They absolutely do NOT put aside their differences lmao once everything kind of, um, blows up between the three of them, all they want to do is KILL each other. She makes it her life's goal to make him suffer, and he basically loses his sanity in the process of trying to find a way to kill her for good. The beef is unbelievable. ANYWAY, what they reveal about each other is that Ciaran is not nearly as innocent in anything as he likes to pretend and Sihla is not as guilty as everyone says she is. I mean, she is still a terrible person in many ways, but that does not excuse the things he did to her all those years ago. She hates him for many, many good reasons.

Old Blood: Andhira HATES the entire Ekion family, but specifically the oldest son (who does not have an official name yet.... oops). He doesn't much care for her either but is usually too busy trying to better his social standing to worry too much about her. Except when they're in the same room together (which happens semi-regularly because her brother is kind of in love with him lmao). They hate each other for the exact same reason and it's that they're both SO arrogant. They look down on everyone around them (which in Andhira's case is like. fair. She's the firstborn of the two most powerful people on the planet, and the only person that comes close to that level of power is her twin brother who was born a mere fourteen minutes after her) but think the other is completely unjustified in their actions. Really all it reveals to a reader is that they both kind of suck and need to get over themselves because all that behavior does is make people resent you. They only put aside their differences because she does kind of need his help once or twice, but they would gladly spit in each other's face and/or push each other down a flight of stairs in the name of pettiness.

--

2. What do you hope your readers will take away from your wip? Is there an intentional theme to the story?

These can be answered together! I started writing these stories because I wanted to have fun but they've both kind of morphed into a long-winded way of saying that like. it's okay to be messed up and hate yourself and have major internal struggles because there are people who still love you. I KNOW it doesn't sound like that from uhhhhhh literally everything I've ever said about this stuff but bear with me. The BIG theme is that love is EVERYTHING. All kinds of love. It's the reason to keep on going. You are never alone, even strangers can love you in their own way, etc etc etc etc. Also gay love fucking prevails always and forever.

--

3. What do you love most about your protagonist?

Yixing is funny and weird and definitely a horse girl and he kind of sucks sometimes because he's stubborn as hell and has terrible people skills and maybe also a drinking problem, but he is kind and empathetic and despite the absolute hell he's lived through, he still sees the good in people and knows that it's easy to make mistakes and that most people deserve second chances in life. Also I like him because he is without a doubt the ideal man and I made him that way on purpose. And god I wish we could drink together. I'm talking stumbling drunk, crying on the bathroom floor, please-hold-my-hair-i'm-about-to-throw-up kind of drinking. We would have a great time being stupid together I think.

Vera is resilient and mean and stubborn and cold and off-putting and hard to get to know, and she sucks for those reasons but it's also why I love her so much. She has also lived through hell and it didn't make her try to see the good in people like Yixing does. It just made her bitter and resentful. She warms up over time, but she fights tooth and nail against it. I also love her so much because she is the archetype of like. the washed up former prodigy that has to return sort of against her will to her old life, and she realizes that she misses it in some ways but also remembers exactly why she left. I would Not want to drink with her (because she doesn't drink anymore), but I would love to take one of her art classes.

--

4. Is there anything in the story that is implied but not directly stated? Will this become more relevant later on? How perceptive would a reader have to be to pick up on this?

White Crane: This is hard because I'm so invested in my own shit that it feels obvious to me, but I try to lay out a little candy trail that tells the reader that Ciaran and Anwei are Not What They Seem right from the start. It’s hard to explain without specific examples but it’s in the way they talk, they way they interact with other people, the way certain things they say don’t line up, etc etc etc. And there is a Big Hint of what will happen to Ciaran in the second and third installment, but idk if that counts. Also there are definitely implications that Yixing is trans but that's neither here nor there (honestly I’ve gone back and forth on whether or not he should be explicitly trans or if it should be left to reader interpretation because well... I don’t know if I'm capable of writing the nuance of transness because I'm not trans despite my complex and confusing relationship with gender but I'm also not a thirty-something year old Asian man NOR am I a god NOR am I a former vampire hunter NOR am I like. any of the things I write about other than a mean lesbian so. who knows?)

Old Blood: TRUE FANS already know this one, but regular degular readers that haven't participated in funny question friday or read my random late night posting would not immediately know that Josef and the Sovereign were once involved. Basically the only characters in the story that know are Josef, Luka, the Sovereign himself, and Tahire. But there are definitely some hints peppered throughout conversations and perhaps some photos and trinkets that Josef has kept after all this time... It has like no weight on the events of the story but I just think it's fun. Once again I am way too invested to know if it's easy to pick up on or not but I think it takes some theorizing about maybe? Other than that there aren’t any significant secrets.

--

5. Which character has the most intricate backstory? Is this backstory common knowledge from the start, or is it revealed later on? How does the backstory affect the narrative?

White Crane: this is unfair because some of the characters are almost a thousand years old and some of them are like. 35. I DO have a full timeline written out of the thousand years of history that Ciaran and Anwei have lived through, if that counts as an answer. Like it doesn't have every single day and year, but it has all the big events for sure. Barring that, Yixing definitely has a pretty complex backstory. The man gets around lol and I try (and maybe fail?) to make him seem not too complex initially but then things get revealed and you learn more about him and are like “oh my god no wonder this man has Problems.” Also if he was like. “normal” and perhaps “well-adjusted” the story would not exist at all because he is the way he is and makes some of the stupid decisions he does because of his weird little life.

Old Blood: ONCE AGAIN, this is unfair because the Sovereign is like older than god. And Vera is 37. But like. I haven't fleshed him or any of the old ass vampires out nearly as much as Vera so there's your answer I guess? And I guess the important things are known from the start (that she was a prodigy, that she retired because terrible shit happened and she couldn't handle it, that she suffers from significant ptsd because of it, etc), but there is a lot of detail that doesn't come out until much later when she has to confront her Feelings (ewww feelings). Uh... the backstory affects the narrative because it wouldn't exist at all if Vera wasn't plagued by her fucked up blood nightmares lol

--

6. Which two characters have the most complicated relationship? How does their relationship develop over time?

White Crane: Ciaran and Anwei totally. They love each other because they're brother and sister and were all the other had for a VERY long time (and even when they were still uh mortal, they relied on each other constantly), but also they hate each other because they're brother and sister. You know how it is with siblings. I love my brother and sister to pieces but I can't imagine being immortal and having to put up with the both of them for all eternity (sorry guys if you are reading this somehow.... I love you but we are all so annoying god bless). They handled their newfound godhood very, very, very differently and it kind of colors their relationship for the rest of time. There were times where they were extremely codependent and other times where they didn't speak to each other for DECADES. At the start of our story, they're on much better terms and have buried all their hatchets, but it doesn't take much for that to change....

Old Blood: Probably Vera and Andhira? They're only brought together because of their shared fucked up blood nightmares, and neither of them like that thought. They both resent the other for everything they are, and Vera is pretty much completely hostile to Andhira about it for a long time (and Andhira is only just barely cordial lol), but obviously a significant part of the plot revolves around them like. falling in love so they DO get over it after a while :)

--

7. What is the most heart-wrenching scene in your wip? Why?

White Crane: When Yixing fucking DIES. I feel like this one should be self-explanatory. But I mean if you would like further explanation, it's unpleasant and slow and agonizing and nobody can do anything to stop it (haha....... unless?) so Ciaran gets to hold him for a long time and feel really bad about it lol

Old Blood: idk if there are any really heart-wrenching scenes but there are definitely some miserable and uncomfortable scenes like where Vera relives in vivid detail the days that she witnessed the gruesome deaths of her young apprentice and her last lover. They're upsetting because those are the two days that basically ruined her life (and one was the final straw that sent her spiraling completely out of control) and it's painful to watch her have to live with the guilt of what happened even if it wasn't her fault.

--

8. What is a song that you associate with your wip? Explain.

White Crane: not to be basic but absolutely without a doubt in my stupid mind “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” by Tears for Fears lol it's because uh. well. Everybody wants to rule the world right? Basically way back in 2019 when I was crafting the ideas for the dnd campaign that became this thing instead, I was definitely having a metal gear moment (honestly I’m about to have a metal gear moment NOW lol) and was listening to a lot of like. mgs adjacent music and latched onto this song (and also promises, promises by naked eyes lmao) as some like thematic element. Like my brain making amvs. You know how it is. ANYWAY the point is. The concept was originally way different and was supposed to be more about the immediate aftermath of the so-called end of the world (yes Yixing was still there and yes he was still just some guy), and it focused a lot more on power struggles between all of these insane people that were granted godhood in the wake of the dying world. Which........ is something I'd like to write about at some point because it's intriguing in its own way but at the time I was unequipped to write about that when I really just wanted to write about people who are, for all intents and purposes, quite average getting caught up in the batshit drama of higher powers. (fun fact: Ciaran was supposed to be a tyrant king that ran a death cult and Anwei and Yixing were working together to figure out a way to kill him. Which is. Kind of what my dnd campaign is like now lol BASICALLY he's like if Big Boss was unkillable and could also rip souls out of people's bodies and eat them. I absolutely do not remember what this question originally was. Something about a song?)

Old Blood: THIS is the reason it took me so long to answer this whole thing. I thought long and hard and looked through all my playlists and listened to random songs that came to mind but it turns out the song I was looking for was right in front of me the whole time. DUH. It's “Golden Light” by Twin Shadow :) In my humble homo interpretation, I think it's a song about being afraid to fall in love and. Well. That's the whole point. Also #spoilers but the first time Vera sees Andhira and is like “oops I think I have feelings” is when they've just arrived at Andhira's home and the sun is rising and she looks over at her as they stand at the top of a hill and she has her eyes closed to the sun and she's bathed in golden light and OOUGGGGHGHHH poetic cinema. (honorable mention goes to “Groove is in the Heart” by Deee-lite because it’s quintessential early 90s music that Vera would be super into)

--

9. What does your protagonist want most? What would they do to achieve this? What is something they wouldn't do to achieve this?

White Crane: Yixing wants to be happy for once. Like actually really happy instead of just. getting by. There's a scene where they're making wishes for the next seasons during the summer solstice and someone asks what he wants and he's like “uh I guess I want to still be alive at the end of the year?” and the other person is like “isn't that what everyone wants? Raise the fucking bar please. What do you REALLY want?” and he's stands there for a really long time and thinks about it before finally saying “I think I just want to be happy for once” and everyone else is like. wow. Way to kill the fucking mood dude. Anyway. He has had fleeting moments of happiness in his life but wants nothing more than to feel that way forever. It's kind of hard to say what he wouldn't do for that because like. there's not really much you CAN do in the first place, so I feel like there's even less you couldn't do. I guess he wouldn't like sell his soul to the devil or something lmao (though by being involved with Ciaran he's pretty much halfway there)

Old Blood: to be left alone. Vera just wants a normal life. She really truly does want to pretend that none of the horrible shit happened to her and that she was never a world-famous hunter. And she wants to teach art classes and live a quiet life!!! I mean, she is already mostly doing that exact thing when we first meet her, but obviously she has some hindrances (aka fucked up blood nightmares). She is begrudgingly helping Andhira because she assumes that will fix her problem and that she'll be able to get to that quiet living as soon as all is said and done. The only thing she really wouldn't do to get what she wants is like... live somewhere far away from Josef and Luka lol She likes having them close by more than she wants to be left alone.

--

10. Within your story's world, were there any events that impacted every character (or most characters)? How would they be different if this event never happened? (Alternatively, erase an important even from on character's backstory and imagine where they'd be now.)

White Crane: well. If the stupid old gods didn't all kill themselves and almost end the world then I guess none of this story would exist lol But the actual answer is like. If Yixing had never run out on his girlfriend of ten years then he wouldn't have moved across the continent to Jengmi and wouldn't have made a name for himself way out there and wouldn't have been scouted and recruited and wouldn't have met Ciaran or Anwei and wouldn't have gotten in the middle of the batshit grudge between a bunch of ancient petty gay people and wouldn't have DIED and wouldn't have made one of the ancient petty gay people in particular lose his grip on his humanity via a lust for power in a desperate attempt to guarantee his safety and wouldn't have been the reason that tens of thousands of people die in his name and wouldn't have accidentally set off a chain of events that resulted in him having to hunt down and kill the Actual God that started it all in a fit of jealous rage. So like. maybe he should have just gone through with the wedding. All things considered, his life would have been way less stressful.

Old Blood: uhhh, that's tough because the stuff that happens only really has any effect on the mortal characters (I mean yeah people still try to kill the Sovereign but they're too dumb to know the ACTUAL way to kill him.... haha unless??), so it would be more like a what if Vera didn't witness the violent deaths of both her apprentice and her lover and have a full blown nervous breakdown and abandon her career? Well...... I think most things in the plot would transpire more or less the same, except she would be WAY less pissed off about it. In fact, she would probably be hyped as hell to get the chance to make the acquaintance of the Sovereign's family like Josef had before her. The thought of Vera being upbeat and not a sleep-deprived asshole that hates being dragged back to her old life..... ew. Not that I enjoy her suffering but you know what I mean. It just wouldn't be the same.

--

11. What is something from your wip that you just really want to ramble about?

Are you sure you're ready for this. This is going to be so so so so long I'm sorry in advance. It's Saturday night and I'm alone and kind of sad so I'm just going to let loose.

As I hone down plot elements for next two installments in my little trilogy, I have kind of become obsessed with the passage of time and how different it must feel to someone that, well, lives forever. One of the ways I'd written (that has since been kind of changed) for Yixing to start to figure out what Ciaran really is was that he would casually be looking through his bookshelf and find an old photograph of Ciaran, Anwei, and their mom standing backstage together after one of his performances. And when he eventually asks Ciaran about it, he gets upset because how dare you touch the one thing I have left to remember my mother? To remember what my life used to be like? There are so many names and faces and places and foods and sensations that I've forgotten in the 940 years I've lived like this and I would give anything I have to see any of it just one more time because I didn't know that the last time I would ever speak to my mom we would have an argument on the phone about how I need to go to the temple and pray for good fortune on my birthday, or that the last time I would ever see my best friend would be at 6am when we both came into the studio to practice and he asked me to go out to breakfast and I said no because I thought a nap would be more important. And there are so many people that I've watched die whose names I never learned and whose faces I forgot the moment I turned away, and there are so many others that I loved so dearly that I had to leave behind because they grew old and I didn't. And I have lived lifetimes in solitude to keep myself a secret from other people and I have died more than any person should ever have to die and I have witnessed atrocities no one should ever witness and I hate everything about this life so much but I love everything about this life so much and I wouldn’t trade it for anything but I think I would give it all away in an instant if only to remember the scent of my mother's favorite perfume and I think I would give it all away in an instant if it meant I didn't have to watch you turn to dust in my arms.

ANYWAY. I think a lot about the agony of loving things that aren't permanent and how it really DOES drive you mad because lately I have been unbelievably nostalgic for certain things that weren't even that long ago but..... I didn't appreciate them at the time and I feel so guilty about it. (And like. I too would give up my entire life to be able to remember the scent of my grandmother's favorite perfume.) And all my pent-up sadness is for things that only happened in my childhood. I have pictures and videos and other people to share those memories with, but what does it feel like to be one of very few people that watched the entire world fall apart and rebuild itself and have nothing to hold onto from that time? What does it feel like to foster dozens of generations of children and outlive every single one of them? What does it feel like to have only fragments of memories of entire lifetimes? How lonely is it? I mean, Ciaran and Anwei have each other and that makes a difference but it still has to be the most isolating feeling. And then there's the pain that comes with memories that have faded or otherwise become hazy. I doubt either of them remember their father's face. They hadn't seen him in years even before it all happened. If it wasn't for that single photo he has, they wouldn't remember their mother's face either. Do they still remember her name? Or her birthday? Do they remember anyone else? Cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, coworkers? If they do, do they even want to talk about it? One thing I worry about in my own life (and this is how I know I have Problems) is that I'm so afraid that talking about memories will alter them somehow. There are so many things that I don't even like to share because once the words are spoken the little vhs tape that has all my memories has been recorded over, even if it's just by a single frame. Something about it has been changed forever each time I talk about it. Do they feel the same way and keep things to themselves instead of sharing the sadness? I think maybe they used to talk about the “old days” or whatever much more often back in the past, but as the years went by.... they just learned to keep it to themselves.

I think maybe I have a lot of anxiety about the passage of time and of being forgotten!

Anyway again. The passage of time drives me insane. And I think it would make me even more insane if I had been chosen to carry the mantle of a dead god and would live forever. My dog died a year ago and I still cry like every single day thinking about her. If I was doomed to live forever I don't know how the sadness wouldn't swallow me whole! No wonder all the people in this book are fucking CRAZY!!

And don't even get me started on the Sovereign lol he's like “oh boo-hoo you've lived for not even a thousand years? Bitch they hadn't invented fucking GLASS yet when I was born. The horse wasn't domesticated yet. Cry harder!!”