#like i fail to see how its better then the leaks where we see him older and with the 'bad future' design

[thetimelordbatgirl]

I really do not get how people keep insisting the ending of Channel Chasers is a good outcome for Timmy in the future in wake of leaks from the pilot for the new show that shows older him. Timmy literally in that future continued his parents shit parenting to the point his kids are so miserable they need fairly god parents as well and is as oblivious as his parents to their misery, especially when he hires them a babysitter that is literally robot Vicky who tortures them like Vicky tortured him, but he does nothing about it. If anything, that's a pretty bad outcome??? Literally showing the main character just continuing the cycle of abuse???

[wakeup01]

Two Twinks, One Wish

“So Charlie, what did you wish for Christmas?”

“Really? Can we just watch the movie?” I say, annoyed.

Daniel had been my boyfriend for about a month now and had recently moved into my flat, just in time for Christmas. Since then things had been a struggle, he would continually whine about my inadequacies - how I didn’t tidy enough, didn’t appreciate him and most of all how I was a terrible top.

See, the problem was, we were both twinks. We had the same skinny body type, with barely any muscle definition. The only real difference being he had the better ass. Admittedly, I had a severe lack of confidence in the bedroom, frequently failing to get in the mood. Daniel on the other hand was very particular about what he liked and what he expected.

“Come on! You must be able to think of something. God knows there’s enough things you can be better at…” Daniel chastised.

Even now he had turned a harmless movie night into another chance to take petty digs. We were on the couch watching some cheesy xmas film, where the protagonist makes wishes that magically come true. Now he was insisting for me to make some stupid wish.

“Why don’t you go first? You seem to have a lot of ideas in mind.” I shoot back, not taking my eyes off the screen.

“Hmm, I got the perfect one! Charlie, I wish… you were a better top!” He laughs and nudges into my shoulder.

I roll my eyes, of course, I should of guessed this is where things were heading. Ugh. Out of nowhere I feel a chill wash over my whole body and a tightness take hold in my chest. After a moment the feeling subsides.

“Very funny. Have you been thinking that one up all night.” My voice dripping in sarcasm.

I shift in my seat slightly, a dull warmth emanating from my crotch. I must be feeling unwell, I’m definitely not being turned on by his degrading remarks. But the heat doesn’t fade, in fact it only grows in intensity. I get the impulse to grope at my growing bulge, the tightness straining against my jeans. Daniel would never live it down If I did, but it was becoming rather uncomfortable.

“You look a little flustered there… ah. I see. Are you really getting horny from this? Christ, you’re pathetic.” Daniel scolds, reaching his hand down.

Before I can object he unzips my trousers and pulls down the waistband of my briefs. My cock bursts forth and slaps against my chest, pre already leaking from it’s tip. Except it’s not my cock, this monster is almost twice my normal size. And my balls are inflating in front of my very eyes.

“What the hell?” I shout.

“Woah, oh shit, it’s working. It’s a Christmas miracle!” He exclaims in barely contained glee.

“Daniel, what did you do!” My voice cracks.

My dick continues to snake up my torso, going from 5 inches, to 7 then to 8. As it grows, so does my hornyness, overpowering my head as I fall into a drunken stupor. This is the most intense erection I’ve ever felt. My hand rubs up and down the entire length and I attempt to wrap my fingers around it, before discovering its girth is now thicker than my hand.

“Nice cock ‘bro’. Good tops are well equipped downstairs. And now, you are too. Hahaha” I look over and see him smirk at me.

He’s enjoying this far too much for my liking, but I’m in no position to fight back. Why did he make that stupid wish, I better not be stuck with this forever. At this point I don’t think my cock would even fit into any underwear I own. How exactly can I walk around with this thing swinging between my legs.

“You know who makes good tops? Jocks. That cocky attitude and carefree nature, coasting through life without thinking.” Daniel suggests, wistfully.

Jocks are also narcissistic morons. And I’m certainly not going to be one just to be a better ‘top’. I’m suddenly distracted by a chafing from my rear, a pair of straps seem to be cupping the cheeks of my tight butt. Below my balls now sits a stained pouch, the smell of musk rising from it hits my nose and I recoil.

“I think it’s jockstraps only from now on Charlie. And woof, sweaty ones at that.”

All of my senses are being overpowered, it’s like my head is in a vice that keeps on tightening. The film in front of me becomes a blur, my focus shattered by the intense pleasure from my new cock.

“Cock.” I blurt out.

I hear Daniel laughing from out of view.

My head is starved of oxygen as all the blood rushes to my groin, I’ve never been this horny before. I feel the strangest sensation as my brain thickens, filling up with throbbing meat. All the space padded out until I’m holding up a heavy dumbbell on the end of my neck. My thoughts were still there, somewhere, but it took so long to find them. It was quicker and easier to just embrace jockdom, stop worrying so much and just go along with the flow. If I was unsure of what to say then bro, I’d just say ‘bro’! A bro can fill in sentences with ‘bro’ and everyone will know what a bro they are. And bro? Being labeled as a dumb bro means no one expects anything meaningful from me. Brawn over brains is the mantra of my life dude.

“Jock’s also like to wear their bro-hood on their sleeves, and in your case, quite literally.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth I feel a sharp pain, as if a hundred needles are stabbing down my arm. I brace myself before glancing down. And there it was, 🍖 the meat emoji tattooed on my left hand. Huhhuh, awesome bro. Branded a meathead for life.

“Bro?” I ask slowly, my voice now considerably deeper.

“Yeah ‘Chad?’” Daniel emphasises.

The name immediately sticks to me like glue. Chad. I am such a Chad. I have some distant recollection of being someone else, but I can’t be bothered to search my brain for it. There’s a more pressing concern.

“Bruh, I need to empty my balls.” I grunt. The pressure from my engorged member becoming unbearable.

“Then you know what to do. Good muscle tops have their cocks milked every day.”

I grip my cock and begin pumping in earnest, my jaw hanging open. As I masturbate, my hands and arms bulk up with muscle. I see my veins very noticeably pop out. I feel a desperate urge to flex, letting one hand go from my dick. I ball it into a fist and raise it to the side of my head, squeezing my biceps. My arm pulses with meat, sending a vain satisfaction to my pleasure center.

“Good dumb tops spend all their time in the gym or on the field. Sculpting their body into the perfect chiselled shape.” His nasally voice instructs.

Muscle continues to form all over my lithe frame; my shoulders broaden and my chest ripples into a tight 6 pack. My clothes are loudly ripped to shreds. Memories enter my head of spending hours working out, of hanging with the other jocks and forming a vacant facade of a personality. Sweat drips from my hairy armpits, staining the couch under me. The room quickly starts smelling like a gym, my rank feet tearing free from my socks. My face cracks as it squares out into a more defined outline, brow growing heavy above my distant eyes. My body is now taking up most of the couch as Daniel budges over to the side. I quicken my pace, pumping now with both hands. My balls tighten.

“Fuck yeah brah.” I roar, reaching climax.

My cock spurts rope after rope of musky cum directly at my face, I’m left covered in my own seed. Daniel leans over to me and begins to eagerly lick at my face. He savours my taste on his tongue before swallowing. The sign of an expert bottom, huhuhu.

“Mmm. Great Tops know how to take control. And you’re a great top Chad.” Daniel moans in lust.

He’s right.

“Dude, this film is fucking dull. I’m changing to the sports channel bro. There’s a sick game playing today.” My hands take the remote and switch to a noisy football game.

I grab Daniels’s tiny little body and force him onto my lap. I flex again and push his face into my armpit. His tongue drags along my wiry dank hair. He moves his hand between my legs and starts passionately fingering his hungry ass hole, using my cum as lube. I hear him panting heavily like a dog. Man, my boyfriend is such a whiny brat…

“Bro, it’s my turn.” My cocky voice booms.

“What?” I hear his muffled voice cry out.

“Uhh… I wish… I wish you were a Bro like me, Bro.” I smirk.

“Wait, noooo!” He screams.

His body shudders and contorts as I hold his face to my pits with my newfound strength. He packs on pounds of muscle in a matter of seconds. Dan’s moaning turns to grunts. He’s going to make for such a Good. Arrogant. Dumb. Bro.

I watch his dong stretch down his leg, his balls sagging between his thickening thighs. The head of Dan’s veiny cock leaking like a faucet. A pair of juicy pecs push out from his chest and his adam apple swells. I pull away the remains of his clothes, letting them fall to the ground.

Dan’s dainty feet beef up to a size 12, sweat gathering between his toes - smelling like a real man should. I feel his previously fat bubble butt tense with lean muscle on my lap. With a squeak, his thoroughly abused fuck hole tightens shut, never to be stretched open again. He only tops after all, like me.

I release my grip on him and he pulls away, my sweat covering his square jawed face. He stuffs his junk into a jockstrap, looking barely concealed as it throbs with need. His messy hair has receded into a clean as fuck buzzcut. We now look almost identical, except that his meat emoji 🍖 tattoo is engraved on his right hand.

“Bro!” Dan’s voice deepens.

“Let’s go find some sluts to breed, bro.” We both smirk at each other and flex.

[ironunderstands]

Dr. Ratios predictions, theories and ideas I have for his lore BECAUSE SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED AND I AM INSANE ABOUT HIM AAAAAAA

‼️INCLUDES DISCUSSION OF LEAKS SO BE WARNED‼️

So, I’m sure if you like Dr. Ratio even a little bit or have kept up with what leakers are doing, you have heard of a little something.

That little something being our new planet in coming in 3.0 is Ancient Greece inspired 

Oh boy.

And oh it gets better, thanks Sparkle for playing genderbend Ratio during Cosmoddesy because 

Yup, this is his planet.

I’m well aware it will be like 7 months before we start getting proper leaks about this place, but for now, let’s do some speculation shall we, because if there’s anywhere we are gonna get his backstory/lore/a story centered around him, it will be here.

So let’s begin 

Whatever the hell I think is gonna happen during 3.0

A) He will serve as a guide for the Astral Express in navigating this planet 

I don’t think he will immediately go to them to help, or they will immediately seek out him, but rather coincidentally or through the connivence of circumstance he will end up helping lead us around, at least partially until we really get roped into a conflict.

Or, it’s the other way around, where we kinda are left to our own devices a bit and then something happens and either by his own decision or something that’s forced upon him, Dr. Ratio now has to supervise from now on.

Personally I find the second option way more interesting and I think it has way more potential for angst so I’m going with that one let Ratio be dragged around by a malicious entity or his own experiences I’m so here for it. 

B) Something happens.

Wow, descriptive. 

Ok, what I really mean is that something bad happens like a prophecy comes true or the express breaks something or a stellaron comes to eat people’s grandmas and Ratio is implicated in it. 

And this is where the fun begins, as the nature of what this something is can completely shift the story in very interesting ways.

Perhaps he was prophesied to doom Amphoreous’s civilization with his presence or something, and was abandoned by his parents on another planet?

Perhaps he has connections to the leaders there who desired for him to be their puppet/tool, so he left to find his own path and now they are trying to force him back.

Perhaps he failed at a test of theirs when he was younger, some universal trait on the planet that he couldn’t live up to and was exiled because of it. Now that he’s back, they blame whatever bad thing happens on Ratio. 

I actually really like these particular theories as Ratio has a lot of themes about creating your own destiny, so seeing him resist one forced upon him would be compelling. Moreover, I feel as though an arc demonstrating how exactly he wanted to become a Genius/where he got all his insecurities and motivations from is not only necessary for his character but would flesh out the way we see the path of Erudition in general, even if I already really like the way they have gone with it so far. 

C) Resolution/Self acceptance 

I doubt they will permanently kill him, it just doesn’t suit his character at all.

However, do I think is he gonna get messed up by whatever that “something” is? Yes. 

If the story centers on this remains to be seen, honestly, I doubt it will considering we have the entire cast of the planet and its own lore to meet and learn about, but I do think Ratio will be a major player and I hope how he feels gets some of the plot’s focus as we have quite literally only have 1 full scene of him where we see who he truly is, and it’s all the way back in 1.6 (Ratio-Screwllum conversation my Roman Empire). 

Like guys I needed this man bleeding out screaming dying crying throwing up clutching his wounds looking up at the screen like a kicked puppy losing all hope in himself and others YESTERDAY 

I NEED SOMETHING BAD TO HAPPEN TO HIM FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND BECAUSE RATIO IS SO HIGH STRUNG THAT ANY AMOUNT OF PRESSURE WILL CAUSE HIM TO SNAP SO PLEASE HOYO LET HIM BREAK!!!

He needs another scene where he’s being sincere, he needs a scene where he’s being vulnerable, Ratio’s marble facade needs to crumble to reveal the man underneath and I need that man to pick himself back up again knowing he can allow himself to be human as well AAAAAAAAAA

His connections to Acheron 

If you have seen my other posts I have already talked about this at length, however the brainrot for this particular detail is all consuming so let me just demonstrate:

Dr. Ratio has the same philosophy as Acheron, an emanator of Nihility.

Look.

Essentially, they both believe that only in desperate situations will humans reach their full potential and begin to truly live for themselves. Moreover, they also both try and offer the tools to help people save themselves, Ratio with knowledge and Acheron with destroying the dreamscape, and that even if people can only become their true selves through struggle, it is the guidance and love of other people that will allow them to pick themselves up. 

Interestingly, pre-2.2 I also believed Ratio was walking the path of Nihility, due to how he engages with knowledge. That very viewpoint spawned from the 1.6 conversation I just showed you, as Ratio demonstrates to the audience that he does not care about knowledge in of itself, but rather the value it can bring to people.

Now, this sets him apart from the Genius Society members, who believe knowledge is inherently valuable and that it is what brings the universe meaning to them. Every person Nous has acknowledged has expressed this belief, which is why they were acknowledged and Ratio isn’t.

Before you say it, no, it’s not that he isn’t smart enough, quite the opposite actually.

Screwllum himself acknowledges his genius and time and time again are Ratios myriad of accomplishments brought up. In universe plenty of people believe he should have been instated into the society by now as well:

These are just the ones that implicate the society directly, as so many of Ratio’s character stories also mention just how accomplished he is.

Moreover, in 2.3 we are getting a new Sim Uni update made by Ratio himself, centered on humanity because of course it is, therefore he’s even smart enough to do the same things the GS members do, even collaborating with Screwllum to work on their favorite pet project.

So, what does this have to do with his lack of acknowledgment, and the path of Nihility?

I have established Ratio is smart enough and that he doesn’t view knowledge in the same way the other member’s do. Therefore, this difference in mindset is why Nous has never acknowledged him, because as much as Ratio thinks he is walking the path of Erudition, his personal philosophy and behaviors have never aligned with that, even if he thinks they do.

I mean, the man says it himself, even if he doesn’t realize the implications of it:

“The Path of Erudition has neither reason nor logic. While geniuses wander among the stars, the ordinary can’t even trace their footsteps.”

That is the path the Genius Society members walk, the path Ratio is criticizing in this sentence, the path he refuses to travel along himself, because what defines Ratio is that he will never leave the ordinary behind to stumble alone.

That is the path of Erudition.

And Veritas Ratio does not follow it. 

So what does he believe in?

Finding your own path. Forging your own future, in the face of a meaningless universe, that is the only thing we should do, the only thing we CAN do. 

“even a life marked by failure is a life worth living”

That’s what Ratio believes.

It doesn’t matter if the masses cannot escape their mediocrity, if they will never be geniuses, if their efforts will go unacknowledged, because the universe doesn’t care, therefore they shouldn’t either. There is no grand test, no final destination, no perfect goal people must attain.

Destiny is uncertain, and people’s fates are theirs to choose. 

Dr. Ratio believes people can still improve themselves, and that it doesn’t matter if people cannot reach the ceiling of knowledge, as they should still push themselves off the floor and stand up. 

He doesn’t think anything confines people from bettering themselves, and that it’s pointless to deliberate over whether one can achieve perfection or not, they should strive to improve themselves regardless and live their best lives because why not? Sure there’s nothing saying they can, but there’s also nothing saying they can’t, and in the face of a meaningless universe, devoid of purpose, one must create their own, and he dedicates his life to aiding others in realizing this.

Ironically, Ratio does not take his own advice. He can recognize the merits of the masses, but he cannot appreciate his own. Ratio is forever walking forward, but he cannot see the path ahead of him, or appreciate the lengths he has gone, the distance he has traveled, and the lives he has improved. 

Ratio spreads knowledge across the universe, believing that is what Nous desires, what the Erudition means, or rather should be, which is partly why he views himself as mundane, as a failure. 

Not just because he is as ordinary as any other person, but because Ratio thinks he hasn’t succeeded in his goal without Nous’s acknowledgement. I think he believes that he hasn’t done enough, that he isn’t smart enough, that he will never be good enough, therefore no matter what has happened, Ratio is doomed do be as mundane as everyone else, and his accomplishments will never be worth the gaze of the entity who inspired him to help others in the first place, as that’s what Ratio believes they would want.

However, helping others is not something Nous cares about, it’s something Dr. Ratio cares about. Even if he doesn’t understand or acknowledge it, Ratio’s accomplishments are meaningful, and he has walked his path further than most ever have. 

However, that path just isn’t the path of Erudition, it’s the path of Existence. 

Initially I believed it to be the Nihility, and in a way I’m not wrong, considering one must cross underneath the shadow of the Nihility to find the Existence, so in a way he is still approaching them.

However, as always, Acheron clarifies everything.

The Nihility envelops all, therefore it is meaningless. And before our final ending, our predetermined destiny (death), we have so many choices to make, therefore we should make them, as it makes both our life and death develop a completely different meaning.

As I have stated, this is what Ratio believes in, even if he attributes it to the Erudition, rather than the Nihility.

Ratio’s entire goal in life is to help others bring meaning to their lives and guide them in the right direction so they can begin to choose for themselves, using knowledge as his means to do so.

Which is exactly what Acheron does, “on the still waters of oblivion, I guide the wandering souls,” isn’t just a line she says because it sounds cool, rather, that is her goal as well. An emanator of Nihility, whose goal is to help others find their meaning in the universe. 

But Acheron doesn’t just want that. She is looking for the Existence, and to kill the Nihility (meaningless) forever.

Which is significant, because if Ratio believes the same exact thing she does, and is walking the same path as she is, then like Acheron, he is heading towards the Existence, not the Erudition.

And Nous will never acknowledge him, not because he isn’t smart enough, but because he never followed them to begin with.

In fact, we know what Ratio is, or rather, what he might end up becoming.

So far no Doctors of Chaos have succeeded in their goals, but perhaps Dr. Ratio, Dr VERITAS Ratio, will be the one to do so. After all, who else could it be but him?

How fitting that the man named after truth would be the one to find it.

That fuckass owl 

Glaux I want to throw you into a blender 

This is Professor Glaux, one of the figures from the Hanunue-Clockie Era of Penacony who did some things like bring the stellaron there, was a scholar of the Intellgenica Guild, became the first dreamweaver, inspired the paper birds, did some shit with the Nightingale Family and presumably died.

I know, horrible explanation, especially considering I haven’t even done the quest this guy is from, but hopefully that’s all the information you need for now so I can introduce you to this theory (which I did not create, sadly I don’t remember who did but it was someone on twitter somewhere so shoutout to them)

That being… Dr. Ratio is Glaux

I hate it I’m sorry. But I will attempt to explain where it’s coming from.

A) Glaux has very similar references to Ratio, aka they are both associated with Greek culture, wisdom and owls 

Glaux is the Greek word for owl and they are heavily associated with Athena, the god of wisdom.

Now Ratio has extremely obvious owl, Greek and wisdom association if you have looked at him for any longer than 2 seconds so I’m not gonna bother to demonstrate it, they have similar references, moving on.

B) The Intelligencia Guild + their titles 

They are from the same faction, and both are referred to as Professors (ratio gets called that more in the CN version I think), and at least Ratio dedicates his time to spreading knowledge, which I think is something Glaux shared.  

C) This occurrence in Gold and Gears

You know, the one where a student kills themself because Ratio thinks they are an idiot.

Well, it’s complicated because apparently the story told in Gold in Gears takes place a long time ago?? 

How long I don’t know as my brain melted in my skull when trying to piece it together, so please do correct me if I’m wrong, I’ll try to make sense of it later.

Moreover, this is also complicated by the fact that this particular occurrence was used by Herta to teach the trailblazer some mechanics of the sim uni, which makes me thing it’s not a part of the lore/timeline in it in general, and just something funny she added in anyways. Continually, there are also occurrences from characters like Argenti and of the Genius Society members themselves, so I don’t think every event is set in the distant past.

However, I think this idea comes from the other person in that occurrence, Dr. No5, but he also kills himself in it, and I can’t find anymore information on it, so I doubt it. (also apparently in the Chinese version the Ratio they refer to isn’t in the way they refer to Dr. Ratio/the one we know so idk)

Either way, what this means is that if this occurrence did take place a while ago, then Ratio must be super fucking old and he must have been part of the Intellegencia Guild during that time, like a certain owl aka Glaux, who was part of it.

D) Ratio’s weird origins

By weird origins I mean we know jack shit about his past (although we finally know the planet he’s from!) and for all we know the man could have spawned in one day, with some other theories even coming to that conclusion, like the infamous worm theory.

Essentially, if you put this all together, Ratio was once an owl-humanoid named Glaux who was from the Amphoreous, and then became part of the Intelligencia Guild a while back, which is when that occurrence happened. He then went to Penacony, did some stuff, faked his death and like came back as Dr. Ratio on that planet again, which is why we don’t know anything about his origins.

Can you tell why I hate this theory as a concept.

I find it to be dumb, nonsensical, a waste of potential and just straight up random as hell. However it is also objectively valid and could have happened within the plot of the game which is why I hate it so much because please hoyoverse do not go in this direction I will skin you.

However, I do not think Ratio has nothing to do with Glaux.

Rather,

A) The stuff Glaux did on Penacony is meant to parallel how Ratio acted there, as both served as a guiding figure for people on their respective timelines 

B) Ratio is the same species as Glaux/ they are from the same planet (Amphoreous).

Now this I fuck with heavily. Yes, Glaux is way more owl looking than Ratio is, however more human versions of his species could exist, and Ratio could just have the ability to like shift forms or something.

He also looks extremely similar to the owls on Ratios design, which I now deem it appropriate to show to you the metric fuck ton of owls in Ratios design.

(there’s a few more btw I just couldn’t fit them due to the image limit LMAOO)

Why do you have so many, and why is it the same fucking owl, same culture, same goddess referenced, same symbolism???? 

Like even if I hate the 1 : 1 Glaux-Ratio theory, they are clearly connected, and this is no accident on behalf of the developers. 

Therefore, I would keep an eye out for Glaux mentions in the future, especially on the planet coming in 3.0, as I 100% believe that they are from the same planet. There’s no way they can’t be connected in some manner, and if I am right about this I will be annoying about it for the rest of time. 

I can’t believe owl Ratio might actually be a reality. 

So uh, let’s put this all together.

We go to Ratio’s planet in 3.0, problems happen and we learn both his past and his connections to that owl species Glaux is from which likely causes even more problems. Bbg probably gets his ass handed to him in 3.0 and 3.1 and gets to make up for it in 3.2, ending the arc off more fulfilled as a person, and perhaps making some realizations about himself including that he isn’t actually following the path of Erudition. Then we skip all the way to endgame when the trailblazers are fighting Nanook and him and Acheron come in with the steel chair hopped up on Existence juice to give the trailblazer enough of a will to live as to not succumb to the Nihility because oh my god how can you defeat the embodiment of Destruction. We somehow win and Dr. Ratio gets married to Aventurine and they ride off into the sunset roll credits we all cheered. 

So, yeah.

If I’m even a little bit right about this I will be the most insufferable person on this planet. Anyways I hope you enjoyed reading this, and even if these theories don’t end up being true I do still think the speculation gives a lot of insight into his character.

[bonefall]

Bones Bones Bonesss wc Star full book spoilers already out in the wild (forums)......... Looking forward to your thoughts when it officially comes out (or whenever!) cause. I will not say. But ohhhhhh it sure was a book............ :33

You know I'll also be doing a full read when I get my grubby paws on a copy, but I do have some strong feelings assuming that the leaks are totally accurate!

The no-spoiler version of my opinion; BOY this ending is a stinker. This arc truly was a blundering mess of lost potential and wasted time. As someone who still feels the first few books were STRONG setups, from 3 onwards I feel like I've been watching a train run out of track and derail in a slow, pitiful fashion.

It's not even a FAST trainwreck. The ending was predictable insofar as they clearly had no good climax or message in mind. Infact it's kind of a marvel how utterly bloodless this arc was, and how any violence they DID show came out of left field because they failed to build up to it.

HOWEVER. I am not just a reader, I'm a scavenger. This stuff is GREAT for BB. The ending gave me the most important pieces I need, and now I know how BB!ASC is going to rework it.

But I'll not get ahead of myself; quickly, I'll just talk raw first impressions of the spoilers.

(As always, take this with a grain of salt and the knowledge that the spoilers may be incorrect. Opinions may change once I read the book myself.)

Splashstar is a garbage villain. He is absolutely bottom-tier for me.

His "amorality" comes out of nowhere and quite frankly he reads like a Chick Tract Evil Atheist.

I don't get how people can accept the way the characters call him "manipulative" when his plots are utterly brainless.

He is the type of naunceless evil that makes me want to hurl. Splash reads like a writer trying to "repeat" the evil of Tigerstar without any of the intelligence of early TPB.

Tigerstar was a RESPECTED warrior. He leveraged his standing in the Clan to secretly carry out his assassinations and forge alliances. He was established strong to begin with.

Splash is like cat-18 and able to kill-no-miss strong warriors with his Evil Jump, and then keeps the Clan in line by holding his siblings hostage.

It makes me not understand how he has ANY followers, because he has no consistent ideology or rhetoric.

Anything they did use (like claiming he'd make the Clans strong and saying tigerheartstar wanted to take over the whole forest or whatever) isn't consistent because they failed to establish these over the SIX BOOKS THEY HAD.

It feels like he was only a legitimate threat for like 2 out of 6 books

And then he's dead in chapter 13. Halfway through the story. Incredibly lame.

I want to reserve my judgement on the Frostpaw vs Splashstar battle, but it's absurd on its face. Harelight went down in 1 hit but Frostpaw musters all her strength to use his move and overcome him?

I have to see it first before I conclude if it's something I want to salvage though. Sometimes fights just come across better when you're reading them.

But on the note of battles, it's frustrating how bloodless this arc was. We started off with tigerHeartstar invading and occupying RiverClan-- yet we're looking at a total body count of 5, with one heart attack and one illness.

And speaking of deaths.

Whoever decided to give Berryheart a redemption death should get offscreen greencough.

UTTER shite. You have this whole arc with radicalization as a major theme, show Berryheart trying to brutally murder her in-law with a snake, grabbing at power desperately to the point where she CHANGED CLANS to be Splash's deputy, and decide that her ideal ending is "she would die for her baby :(((("???

Ffffuuuuuck yoouuuuuuuuuuuu

This is why we can't have good, nuanced villains, these writers trip over themselves the MINUTE they have a sad parent. It could never actually STAY about power or politics, they cant allow a parent to truly be willing to sacrifice their child for their own ends.

No matter how badly or violently they treated you, They're Still Your Parent. Hogwash. I'm sick to death of this thought-terminating cliche.

Being a parent does NOT automatically mean they'd die for you. They already did this earlier with Curlfeather, and the absolute insult it is to the theme of radicalization aside, having Berryheart repeat that sacrifical death cheapens hers.

Now it's not that CURLFEATHER is the one who would never go so far as to allow her daughter to die for her own ends, contrasting Berryheart. It's Just What Moms Do.

And furthermore if they were going to do a "redemption death," it REALLY sucks that they decided to have Berryheart refuse to kill Yarrowleaf and not FRINGEWHISKER.

It's not even indicative of GROWTH or RECONSIDERING HER BELIEFS or anything. She won't kill her SISTER.

It might have meant something to have a chance for revenge and refuse it, but nooooo. Yarrowleaf. My god. Yarrowleaf.

and don't @ me about Yarrow being ex-kin, they both joined and rejected it at different times.

All that said...

There are some things I like here!

Frostdawn and Whistlebreeze getting their names at the same time was really sweet. I like them a lot.

Sometimes a predictable choice is the right one. Icewing becoming leader is a good move. Icestar my beloved.

I'm personally excited to get to Icey's leadership ceremony in my own rewrite, the canon one was as fanservice-wanky as you'd expect of modern arcs but I LOVE rewriting those.

Though I would have preferred Froststar, I'm ok with this.

The fracturing of RiverClan is a great move. I love the idea of there being a mass exodus following these events. It's wild we haven't gotten that before.

While I bemoan the awful politics and lack of setup, I do LIKE the idea on paper of there being "ex-Splash Supporters" to cause problems in future arcs. Not that these writers know what setup and payoff is, but hey, more for me.

I liked the sort of desperate feel of Frostpaw being exhausted in StarClan and deciding if she wants to go back or not. Im a little iffy on how much other cats PRESSURE her, though.

I need to read the chapters myself but I fear that it might not read like her own choice, but another thing that she's being forced into.

Shut UP Tree why are you HEREEE

The part where they all point out that without her, RiverClan wont have a holy messenger and that's bad, fits the consistent way the writers try to portray StarClan as a good thing when they're really not... but.

I think it would have made a fascinating moment for Frosty to realize that SHE is the one who really holds the power in this situation. What spirituality is going to look like in the future of her Clan is in HER paws now.

They are absolutely going to toss this potential away, but I guess the things I like most about the ending are the ways it kinda softly threatens the status quo.

The fracture of RC and the exodus of cats, Frostpaw deciding she will return and fix RiverClan, Icestar accepting help from the other Clans to fix the camp...

It's not ALL bad, it's just that the negatives outweigh the positives and this is exactly the kind of ending I feared. I hope that this isn't just a tease of a change to the status quo, but I've learned to not get my hopes up.

And, lastly, Owlnose deputy and Nightheart's ending chapter are just straight up beyond parody. I can't even be mad, they're such bad moves they're funny to me at this point.

[mikeellee]

Ok so @bibibbon made a post about the leaks and we can all conclude how Hori cant write basic shit and gives 0 fucks. But I was reading the summary of a fic and yes its yaoi -no, no bkdk for once- and wont say the name nor ships but the summary got my attention.

"Izu was told he is useless all his life...now he is good at fucking powerful men"

No hate to yaoi here please nor the fic.

But it hit me! Hori can't write about mental abuse and how it affect your self steem.

@doodlegirl1998 and @sapphic-agent mentioned in their blogs how Hori couldn't do justice to many plotline HE introduced. Which YES but also...he can't do the basic. He cant show how abuse like this shapes someone.

Izu says since chap 1 he is useless...this is not normal.

"But Hori could have done plot X better" if he cant treat his mc better...any other plot fails.

Also this image here encapsulates MHA in a nutshell

No hate to AM here...its just...those girls dont see Izu at all? A kid cleaning a beach on his own. I get the logic here, a big celebrity overshadow everyone but...you have to admit this scene illistrates how Izu will be treated. Also....why make a secret Izu is cleaning ge beach?

Sorry it's just MHA has so many holes and mean spirit. Eri's rewind never was show to do more than rewind YOU out of existence...but she menaged to rewind Mirio to have his quirk- well, shouldn't he struggle then? If he got rewind from day 1...shouldn't he have to train again?- Hori makes everything unfair to Izu and for what?

What we, as a reader, gain?

Mustard and Izu are similar too. I agree with Bibi's post. He was forgetten by the narrative - I guess he was in the prison. He is a minor but details- as Izu is too.

The evil quirk thing happens to characters we dont have time to care. "His quirk is evil" says to a character with 4 lines and out of the story entirely...and no one changes.

Also...fuck Shig. He abandoned his comrades again.

I like Shig but...besties...Shig is not this "caring and UwU king" he would gladly sell LoV if it means his goals will reach. Same to Dabi.

He just never was in a position where it was asked him "destruction or LoV"

[milktearosethorn]

Oooh if you read MHA what did you think of the ending ?

Oh man.......... Where do I even start....

For context, I've adored MHA since season 1 of the anime first dropped. It was probably my main fandom for at least five years. The first fic I ever posted to AO3 was an MHA fic. I obsessively kept up with weekly manga leaks, and even helped translate the raw Japanese for friends in discord servers.

It was never a perfectly written manga, and I was fine with that. The writing was on the wall since the Overhaul Arc, where cracks started showing with character bloat, constant sidelining and awful treatment of female characters, and out of control power creep. I think the manga could've been a lot better if Horikoshi wasn't crushed by the brutality of the publishing demands of Shounen Jump. But I thought at its core, the story had a wonderful heart, and that was what kept me in love with it.

I fell out of MHA in around 2021 with the Deku vs Lady Nagant fight, because when she blew up from the AFO failsafe I pretty much rage quit over the fact that every time a woman got to do or be something cool, Horikoshi found a way to rip it away from us. I wasn't really feeling the story anymore, so my love for the manga became overshadowed with my frustration and I decided to move on for awhile (and then my friends got me into DSMP lol). Also the fandom was toxic AF and that was not helping. For instance, I have some criticisms of the overall writing of the Todoroki family plot, but some people chose to interpret every manga panel and line of dialogue in the worst faith imaginable, threw a fit over it every week, and it was just exhausting. The LOV were some of my favorite characters too, but that section of the fandom was a cesspool of negativity sometimes. (Of course, other portions of the fandom had their own issues too, but I wasn't around to see all of it).

I still kept tabs on the story to this day, and while I thought the final arc was heading into a rushed mess, I loved the thematic direction that the story was going in. That Midoriya, Uraraka, and Shouto were going to be better heroes than all that came before them by saving the villains.

Then, uh, we got the most depressing endings imaginable.

I could forgive the flaws of the ending and walk away from the story happy if it hadn't lost its heart along the way. It's just baffling to me that a series that began with the Deku saying "This is the story of how I became the greatest hero" ends with him failing to save the person who needed it the most. Shigaraki is the saddest character in the manga and Deku, our protagonist, who back in the Sports Festival Arc would break all his fingers twice over just to get through to a friend, had to kill him instead of saving him. It's bleak. It's a tragedy. And it makes no sense that we are experiencing this tragedy in the same chapter where somehow Edgeshot of all people survived by becoming a sentient worm on a string. Where Hawks's solution to fix a hero system that enabled domestic abusers to flourish and used assassins to 'keep the peace' is to hand out participation trophies. Like????? Meanwhile 17-year old Toga has to die of blood loss even though Gran Torino gets disemboweled on a monthly basis and Best Jeanist has no lungs. There's also the whole issue of how the story seemed to show that having a clear #1 hero and that responsibility being on one man's shoulders (All Might) was a bad thing. But then the power scaling got so out of control that the same burden was placed on Deku's shoulders 😭😭. I'm just baffled lol. It's so odd that we are flip-flopping between a bleak tragedy/cautionary tale and a cartoonishly simplistic way of looking at the world. Idek, but no matter what I wish the best for Horikoshi's health because I think it's clear that this manga took a huge toll on him.

[quicktosimp]

Look at You

Kinktober Day 18, Quaritch

Recom!Quaritch/Recom!Reader

Warnings: Mirror sex, Fingering, Dom/Sub Undertones, Alien Biology, Hurt No Comfort At The End

A/N: Don't watch something angsty while writing smut. You will hurt yourself 😭

“Now, ain’t that a pretty sight?” Quaritch dawled, a lone finger traveling over my slit.

I sit on his lap, my legs on each side of his and my arms wrapped around his neck. His large hand grabbed my face and made me look forward, looking at the image of the two of us together, the mirror placed perfectly, “Look at your pretty slit; see how it’s parting for me?” He asks.

“Yes,” I whisper as a deep burning fills me.

I watch as his finger trails up and down my slit, parting it more and more, my insides soon to be revealed to him, to us. His massive body dwarfs mine; even though we’re both Recoms, Quaritch is gigantic even compared to the local natives.

“Watch how you open for me,” Quaritch plunges in two fingers.

“Oh fuck!” I moan for the feeling and sight. I can see myself spread for his fingers, sucking them in with a flood of my slick dripping out.

“You’re needy today, darlin’. See all the slick dripping down your front. It’s gonna leak onto my thighs, making a pretty mess.” He slowly wiggles his fingers around, and I can feel my inner tendrils play with his digits, “You know, despite the whole blue thing, I gotta say fuckin’ you has been amazing. Not that it wasn’t amazing beforehand. I love your body no matter what, but this body is so much more reactive. The pleasure is stronger, and I love it when our queues tie together in that bond thing.”

“Love your cock, your spines locking with my insides, want you to force my cervix open,” I ramble on, wanting his cock now.

Quaritch laughs, shaking my body, “I just have to mention my dick, and I have you all needy; well, my Princess, you’re not gonna get it. You’re gonna take my fingers and be thankful.” He languorously thrusts his fingers, “But maybe I can give you something better,” the hand that held my face left; instead, I watched him reach behind himself, grabbing his queue, “This should be a suitable substitute, whatcha think?” His confident smirk told me he already knew the answer.

I can see in the mirror how my eyes dilate and how my body arches towards him, eager for the bond, “Yes! Yes! Give it now!” I demand, my arm straying from its place around his neck to grab my own, only for his fingers to leave my slit and slap my thigh.

“Hey now! I said you were to keep your hands there and not move them! Put your hand back and keep it there! Am I clear?” Quaritch demands.

I rush to comply, “Yes, Sir!”

“Much better, Princess.” He grunts while grabbing my queue.

His rough hands are surprisingly gentle as he handles it. I can feel my body amping itself, anticipating the feeling of us becoming one in a way we couldn’t as a human. Truly, the best part of this situation, being resurrected as a blue alien, was never part of the plan, but being able to connect and bond with my husband this way almost makes it all worth it. 

He holds our queues mear centimeters apart, the pink tendrils reaching out for each other, but Quaritch waits, grinning, “You ready, Princess?” 

“Yes, please, Sir,” I respond, knowing he wouldn't do it if I didn’t respond. When he wants to, he can have the patience of a saint, meaning when he gets to be sadistic in bed. 

Slowly, he brought them together, our tendrils intertwining and locking together, and we became one. My pupils are blown, and almost all of my eyes are now black. Quaritch isn’t failing much better, as a gasp leaves him. I can feel him. I can feel his emotions as my own. How Quaritch isn’t as unaffected as he seems; the burning in my loins is mirrored by his own. I can feel his love for me, the need to protect me, and also the longing for more. But there is still the hole in our chests, mourning. 

“Fuck I love this Princess. Love feeling you like this.” Quaritch moans, really saying, ‘I love you’, “Now where were we, Princess?” 

“You were fucking me.” I moan in reply, and I feel how those words shoot down and warm his core. 

“I don’t think I was fucking you, not even fingerfucking you.” Quaritch snarked, “But that can be arranged.” And two of his fingers plunge back inside. 

“Oh fuck!” I shout, watching my slit respond to him and feeling myself surround his digits. 

“What is with my little princess using such bad language today?” Quaritch mocks.

“I learned it from you, Colonel.” I moan while rolling my hips onto his fingers. 

“Wow, you got a mouth today, snarking me. What if I were to take these fingers out of your slutty hole and leave you all hot and needy?” His tone was teasing, but that was a threat.

“No! I’ll be good! Please, Sir! I Missed you so much!” I cry, begging for him.

My core becomes filled with warmth, but it’s not mine. It’s his. Quaritch’s love filling a hole that was blasted between us when I had died first in the war.

“Okay, Princess.” His voice was quiet to hide the wobbling, but in the mirror's reflection, I could see the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 

Slowly he thrust his fingers in and out, wiggling his fingers slowly to let my slit adjust as each tendril attempts to latch onto his digits. Soft moans leave my mouth. From the feeling and sight, I can see my inner tendrils trying to follow his fingers outside my slit but not making it far before retreating back into my slit. The feeling of myself coiling around him and the slow drag brought slow but intense pleasure, gently urging my climax near, like comforting a skittish cat. Quaritche’s face is relaxed for once, content with our closeness. But I feel the need brewing underneath his skin, the lust of watching my slit open and cling to him because he can feel me as I can feel him. We are one.

“Love you, babe,” I whisper through my moans.

The feeling of his love washes through me again, “I love you too,” Quaritch kisses the top of my head.

Quaritch’s hand thrusts deeper, slipping in a third finger. His other hand caressed my face, bringing me to face him, and our lips met. Slow, deep, and full of passion. I roll my hips with each thrust, my high getting close while lost in Quaritch’s lips, his tongue tangling with mine.

I whine into his mouth, trying to signal that I need to cum; understanding flows through our bond, and Quaritch curls his fingers a bit tighter, rubbing and squeezing my inner tendrils, creating a delicious friction. My whines keep getting louder with each thrust and curl. My slick has trailed to the floor, creating a translucent blue puddle, staining the white metal floor. My climax comes in waves of deep pleasure, not one you see in porn, but deep comforting, and warm. I grind my hips into his hand, savoring the feeling. Quaritch releases my mouth and places small kisses along my neck. 

“Do you feel better, Darlin’?” His words are soft.

“Hmmm,” I hum in response, too comfortable to think of a reply.

A quiet chuckle shakes through him as he removes his fingers. I whimper at the feeling, oversensitized from my orgasm.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, Darlin’. I’m not playing anymore.” He scooped me into his arms, cradling me to his chest.

Quaritch lays us on our shared bed, wrapped in each other's arms, our tails curled towards one another. We lay there, basking in our shared warmth, taking comfort that we were both there, but we’re still mourning.

I sniffle, trying to stop my tears, “He’s 16 years old. I’ve missed out on 16 years of my baby boy’s life. He probably hates us.” My voice cracks with each word.

“I know, baby. But all we can do is try and talk to him.” His voice was just as strained as mine.

“They raised him; he’ll hate us just for our existence, and they probably hate him just for being born from us! Your baby was alone for all of his life! I would hate us, too!” Sobs rack through my body.

“I know, baby, I know.” I don't have to be bonded to him to feel the tears falling into my hair.

[randomnameless]

I saw your post about dumb points people make so that Dimitri and the Kingdom come off as worse and to justify Edelgard invasion and I was wondering if you have heard the one about how people try to use Duscur amd Sreng as a excise?

Like they claim that the Kingdom bad treatment of both nations makes them morally evil and that they deserve to be wiped out and conquered in return or that Dimitri has no actual desire to free Duscur and is just using them.

But they always conveniently forgot that the Empire has done the same thing to Brigid and Dagda in the past or even the fact that Edelgard is openly using Brigid

Imo that also explains why Petra completely falls flat as a character, because we have the situation where she is Adrestia's hostage, and could really bring something to the table about imperialism, power (in)balance and...

We have Nopes, where, iirc, Pat tried to lolcalise the part where she wonders why Faerghus used to see Duscur as something else than a land to be conquered before the Tragedy, when Adrestia always set its sights on Brigid - but bar that?

In this situation - a character being a literal hostage of another - I would have expected more than 5 throw away lines and the insulting (Petra is a princess, not the daughter of a fisherman, you really want me to believe she never learnt the language of the juggernaut trying to invade every saturday? Apparently Brigid people know how to speak Fodlanese, if her paralogue is any indication!) trope of "doesn't know the language".

(and yet it speaks volumes about how Adrestia treated her, even if it's not realistic : the child under house Goneril's "good care" is more fluent than her even if he has difficulties to pronounce Mercie's name, whereas the commoner who was saved and cared for by the prince is perfectly fluent in both languages, and even taught him some Duscurian in return!)

But ranting about Petra will take another post altogether, especially how she is perceived in certain, hm, corners of the fandom.

Let's say people living in said corner of the fandom embraced their favourite png's rhetoric, and the famous "Adrestian double standard" even in their real life interactions (with other fans). And it when it doesn't apply, they just create it.

I remember early on after the first Nopes leaks how people tried to piece out (10k years of lore!!) how Sreng and Faerghus's borders came to be, and some "devoted fans" immediately jumped on the Faerghus BaD wagon.

But conveniently ignored Wilhelm the Sailor, writing how he utterly failed his campaign to invade Dagda, off handedly mentions how Brigid people are "savages" and prefers to die there than to face the Emperor of the time who's going to be very pissed that he didn't manage to invade Dagda.

It's more or less (10k years of lore I'm telling you!) explained Sreng and Faerghus/Gautier fight over ressources, but why the fuck Adrestia wants to "adrestianise" Brigid and Dagda? For ressources or just to spread the might and glory of Emperor Ionius III ?

Saying Dimitri doesn't want reparations for Duscur and to cleanse Duscur's name is like saying Rhea's ears are round - you have a better chance to win an argument against a potted plant than against some people who aren't even talking about the game.

[vazelbeak]

Anyways i saw the leak so heres my thoughts on it!

The beginning part is cute. I LOVE the fly dogs and wish they weren't forgotten about.

I think it would make more sense if Striker was kidnapped and brough to Crimson since he may want someone . If Crimson is running out of money and Striker is trying to get money those feel conflicting. So if he kidnapped Striker (believable since based on prior fights he seems to struggle the moment he's outnumbered.) And threatened to kill him if he failed it might give more reason to the circumstances. (And if we want Crimson alive perhaps he can't afford to kill Striker after IMP has cut down so many of his men)

Fizz and Ozzies relationship being the worst kept secret feels conflicting in a way esp if the news dropped just tofat. Like Fizz hides the newspaper (and how were they found out? Like wouldnt this be a problem?) So maybe itd help if Striker looked at that news article when being told he had to catch someone important and then moves it down where we get the shot of Fizz and Blitzø fighting. Indicating to us its Strikers lucky day because the news just broke this guy is someone Ozzie might shell out quite a bit of money for.

The backstory I didnt like the choppiness of admittedly. I hope we get a more in depth one that gives especially Fizz's backstory more time to hit.

That or maybe he tries to steal Ozzies dogs (presuming Fizz to be his dog walker and because Fizz is still holding the leashes and in a fight with Blitzø theyre both pulled up with them?).

Their resolution feels like it was missing the issue. It wasnt just that Blitzo ruined Fizz's life its that he actively walked away when Fizz was severely injured. And Blitzø's "i lost something too" thing feels like its talking down to Fizz as though he wasnt there and close to Blitzøs family. I think maybe itd work if they made each other feel bad in a way that makes each of them reconsider their view of one another like:

Fizz: You hated that I was better than you so you decided to take it all away from me!

Blitzo: It was an accident!

Fizz: Oh boo hoo. Do you want a participation medal or something.

Blitzø then grabs Fizz's shirt both with tears in his eyes and seething with anger. " I lost things that day too Fizz! Where do you think this scar came from?"

Then we get Blitzos flashback and perhaps they dont bond over "nobody told me you came to visit!" (Which why is that tossed aside and why is nothing gonna be done to keep it from happening?) But instead misjudging each other and assuming.

Speaking of that since fire seems to be different colors based on rings, if that fire isnt visually different im gonna struggle to buy Blitzø not at minimum being afraid of human fire based on appearance because this:

Doesn't help. Unless wrath fire looks similar to human fire, (meaning because Wrath is orange Blitzo should presumably be scared based on appearances.) It also would bring to question isnt the point of the fire breathing trick the danger?

I could see this being a intended swap out. That they use human fire in shows bc it looks like wrath fire to minimize injury. But this means assumably the fire from the birthday cake shouldnt be green orange or blue (colors IIRC we saw and Blitzo wasnt bothered by) its not going against canon yet. The fire color will determine that.

Btw if Stolas loves words and reading contracts youd think he'd remember a spell from his book.

Next i hope Fizz's song sounds better in the show. It wasnt bad! Admittedly tho i wish they played into Crimsons men falling into the song because I can follow Crimson and Striker confused but everyone just standing their confused i feel drags down the scene a bit. A lot of the time moments like these work well if the people watching get into the song in a way where the rug is pulled out from under them when the song ends. For examples:

You're Welcome from Moans.

Just Can't Wait to be King from The Lion King

And arguably the I Have a Dream song from Tangled.

Now as for the end my main thing is Ozzies "youll never leave the palace without protection again" before Fizz even expresses being afraid feels infantilizing. I think it overall wouldve worked better if Ozzie sent Fizz to get milk alone because he doesn't want them seen together in a domestic context.

So by the end Ozzie says he'll never let Fizz go anywhere protection to which Fizz responds that he can handle himself (he and Blitzo did work together to get out of there) but he'd love if they went places as a couple.

Ill prob do a rewrite in the future but for now I wanna see how the final product ends up before i go into that!

[heartbreakprincewille]

I don’t think Sara would throw August under the bus for things she did. I think she built an August in her head and majorly failed to realize that he wasn’t like that. Going to him in the first place was very shitty but I don’t think they can be put on the same level of shittiness when she wasn’t the only one who didn’t tell Simon. "She used him to get to Hillerska by hiding her knowledge about the video, and both Felice and Simon should know about it imo." I think the same can be said about Felice tbh. She never cared to tell Sara or Simon about August when it concerned them more or as much as it did her. She was friendly with Simon and never told him she watched the video of his face so much that she figured out who it was, and that she only figured it out to keep Sara at Hillerska and because Wille was sad. I love Felice but she doesn’t care about Simon that much, she cares because people she loves care about him. Wille didn’t want to tell Simon at first and Simon called him out on it. Sara isn’t the only problematic one with keeping secrets.

The fact that Sara tells August that he’s delusional with the horse and that she reports the crime tells us that this is truly what she wanted from the start. Again, it doesn’t excuse starting a relationship with him in the first place but Sara saw all the sweet parts of August. She thought he was changing and tbh many of us thought that too until we saw more of him. I don’t agree with most of her actions this season but from her pov? He was regretting it and wanted to change. Her pov shifted to reality like a much needed slap in the face with the gun scene when she told him that he had failed her like he had failed every single person around him. (Sorry that’s long)

I mean, Felice was made to sign an NDA (Frederika talks about it in the café scene in S2 E1) and although what the NDA was about was never explicitly revealed, it must be about her knowing that August leaked the video. I mean, Wilhelm must have told the Queen from whom he found out who leaked the video and he would have told her that it was Felice(or if Wilhelm would have refused to tell them then the Royal Court must have figured it out themselves). A NDA is a legally-bounding document, its breach can lead to serious legal consequences, and Felice must have been made to sign one to not tell anyone and frolic it around like gossip. I don't think she never cared to tell anyone, I think she must have kept it to herself on Wilhelm's request and after the Christmas holidays, the NDA.

Also about Felice not caring about Simon enough, I mean, is she supposed to? Yes, Simon is a very important person to the people Felice loves(Wilhelm and Sara), but Simon and Felice are just on cordial terms, they are not "besties", to put it more bluntly. And as much as I would LOVE to see them become besties, right now they aren't. It's just that we as the audience know and follow all the five characters closely that we often fail to see things from their perspectives. Even in real life, there are many instances where we know SO MUCH about our friend's good friends but we barely interact with that actual person. It's just very normal. Plus the same can be said for Wilhelm and Sara.

I agree so much with the last para though! It really seemed like August was changing for the better, but then.....yelp. Rest is history. It makes perfect sense for other people to think that August manipulated her, because they have seen August like that. Felice was worried for Sara because her own experience with August was shit and she didn't wanted to see Sara go through the same things. But Sara was the only one who saw the tender sides of August, his vulnerability. I wonder how she looks back upon everything in hindsight.

(also never apologize to send me long asks they literally give me serotonin boosts like no other)

[maiselyormaiforshort]

Tfp secretly Frenemies au,Putting this here because I heard Americans can't read fanfiction now(warning:never watched Tfp,mouth washing reference,I suck at writing)

Remind him to close his eyes

For the past few joors the autobots have been starting to crumble due to the energon supplies being low and the constant moving won't help it, they've changed bases for the last few minutes because its impossible to find one that doesn't have scraplets,there's only one way to solve this

The autobots need someone smar- no not smart, someone sane

HackRate RazorEzquivel's Eyes have been malfunctioning these joors,using the knowledge that he had,he healed himself,though only one eye could be restored,the other had to be removed or else it could cause an infection

"Think about it Microzus,we're solving two problems with one answer"

"No no,it's not that I don't want to punch you,it's just- leading the decepticons won't be the same without you"

"Megatron can put up with your bs,shockwave is just as smart as I am,even if you still have issues you can always call me"

"Alright alright,are you sure your okay with?-"

"MicDrop I have just as much as pain tolerance as you and CrackerJack do,it'll feel like nothing to me"

Remind him to close his eyes

They're on a battlefield,it's dusty,foggy and unsettling,but thats not what's making MicDrop Microzus head spin,Shockwave had located the autobots coordinates,there's an energon supply base,only enough for one side,though the decepticons already have plenty to last for centuries,so why are they here?

"Lord Microzus,I'm not addressing that I'm disagreeing but,i find this illogical"

"Shockwave how dare you question Lord Microzus actio-"

"It's okay Megs, we're not here for the energon,there's a big power supply in that base under all of the rubble,you could use it for"

Remind him to close his eyes

Primus,how long has she been talking for,it doesn't matter because in a few seconds he's not going to see her,not permanently but long distance calls aren't the same to sitting on her shoulder while she's doing important datapad documents

"RazorEzquivel,you calculated how much time and energy we need to get there before the autobots,am I correct?"

"of course,we brought enough supplies just enough to get In and out of the base before it crumbles"

"Then Im guessing nothing bad is going to happen"

Remind him to close his eyes

The base crumbled,almost trapping Breakdown, MicDrop Microzus,Megatron,StarScream and Skyquake under it if it weren't for Microzus,the other decepticons who stayed back were the ones who calculated and gave the others instructions where to go,Knockout only stayed because he couldn't risk scratching his paint job,there were two comms that were talking about something unrelated to the plan

"Alright when the base falls you quickly hold up the ceiling and-"

"the base is falling as we speak,we have to do this fast"

Remind him to close his eyes

They got out of the base,it crumbled just as they got out,if it weren't for Microzus's strength they would be specs of dust by now,SoundWave was comforting shockwave about the loss of the power supply,he really wanted to experiment with it,knockout is glad his Conjuixe is alive.

Remind him to close his eyes

Microzus forced herself to look angry so it would look real,hands into fists,flashing the sharp teeth, she wanted to make it look real

"RazorEzquivel,tell me why-if your plan really worked then we could've walked out there with the power supply"

"my lord I can explai-"

"Don't,you will not call me that anymore"

"I don't understand what your sayin-"

Remind him to close his eyes

Microzus gripped her servos on RazorEzquivel's shoulders so hard small leaks of energon could be seen flowing,the autobots have just arrived and are upset with the energon base being in shambles

Remind him to close his eyes

"you have failed me RazorEzquivel,you are no longer of use to me,besides shockwaves better at science than you are"

"What are you saying im-"

"Close your eyes HackRate,that way you don't have to see me hurt you"

A big bang,spilled energon everywhere,a bot on the ground with half his head blasted,terrified reactions,all so fast

"My lord,Why-"

"Don't.... Call me that,a lord would be ashamed of having a worshipper like you,you are banished from the decepticons,if i see you one more time i will permanently offline you"

The decepticons aren't the same without the small smart bit who would climb onto their leaders shoulder,the small bit who would make sure they get enough rest,the small bit who would share new information with them every day.

"Close your eyes HackRate"

The autobots are taking their time to adjust to the new member,some don't fully agree of straight away accepting him,though RazorEzquivel was never really an enemy to them as he was never part of the attackz that injured them,at least the autobots have a somewhat sane brainie now,

Ratchet is still pondering on how the frag he survived all that

[plasma-studios]

Chapter 10: everything has consequences - don’t you forget

tw: heavy injury, dissociation due to injury, near-death, fire, hurt animals (that technically aren't really animals), blood, coughing up blood, description of dead bodies, slight nausea, knocked unconscious.

As the sun trickled away from its midday position, Cross grew more and more keenly aware that the need to return was approaching soon and sooner. The thought disappointed him, but he did not protest it. It had only been only a matter of time anyway. 

At the unravelling soft rays of sunset, they were to step into the carriage once again. Vaguely, he noticed there was no coachman. The horses’ leads were made of a thick gold rope, tied to the carriage, and subtly gleaming with soft golden light. Were they propelled by magic? But, that too. The horses were strange, glassy-eyed creatures. Though they quietly neighed and pulled the carriage in their stride at an appropriate pace, their movement was almost mechanical. 

Cross filed it away and took his seat opposite Dream. 

There was a surprising lack of tension in him. In fact, there was an almost-relief in its place.

Perhaps Dream wasn’t as narcissistic as he’d first thought. Sure, he definitely delighted in the finer things in life, but his indulgence in them was not without purpose. His signature move, perhaps: pretenses. Was it his first resort? By now, it seemed almost as instinct for Dream. He was becoming predictable.

Perhaps that was why the idea of returning back into the estate’s walls with Dream did not bring him as much discomfort as before. Was it just not as dangerous, now that he knew Dream better? And Dream was not invulnerable. If he had to take up precautions and pretend, he was most definitely not invulnerable. 

That soothed the remaining urge in him that pushed him to act. Maybe that was the issue. His mission was to do him harm, but Nightmare would only approve of substantial harm and really, he could not satisfy that demand without first familiarising himself with Dream. 

Perhaps the relief was from the knowledge that his mission was not entirely impossible. He knew it with certainty now that Dream had a softness in him, a weakness. Maybe that was where his opportunity lied. For all his arrogance glories, he’d grown soft faced with… what, pitiful things? The child that had bumped into him: a failed pickpocket, likely. Cross had certainly been a mess when he first arrived here, and Dream had been nothing but gentle. Even if his Immortal qualities had been leaking through ever since, it didn’t change the fact that it was a pattern.

Perhaps even the townsfolk, to him, were somewhat pitiful. Just as a person regarded a mouse, maybe he regarded them the same way. Completely harmless, unworthy of consideration.

It could be compassion instead. He doubted it. But it’d be good if he knew exactly. Was he softer to pitiful things, or harmless things? The two were very different. 

He looked to Dream. He could test it.

“Dream?” He called out to him at a semi-softer volume. Dream glanced his way, questioningly, but not without the faintest hint of indulgence. Everything Dream was doing for him was indulgence of some sort. 

“Mhm.” 

“Do you think we should invite help?” He was testing the waters. Dream, however, gave him no reaction, his face remaining impassive. “We have the room. They might appreciate the job.”

It was too transparent. Dream would know that he was probing him for something. That was also good: he wanted to see how much Dream would let him get away with.

“No.”

That was blunt. He wore the appropriate amount of hurt on his face. “Oh.” 

Dream did not fill the silence Cross intentionally left blank. His face was still impassive.

“Can I ask why?”

His face finally shifted. Something settled in his gaze, lined with a certain sureness. “No one other than me is to step a foot in.” He paused. “Well, Blue too. And you.”

Cross silently tried to make sense of it. It was not necessarily apathetic. He hadn’t necessarily rejected Cross’ pretend-compassion, but he’d still rejected the request. Was there something of higher priority? There was something he didn’t know, evidently. 

“We’re the exception?” He kept a note of curiosity in his voice, if only to keep up the act of simple conversation they both knew was just that: an act. 

He said it simply. “You’re family.”

Family. Cross felt nauseous; his hand flew to his head. Abruptly overwhelmed by dizziness, he could not reply. Dream did not press it.

The dizzy spell lasted for a while. Like many other things, it eventually went away. 

Cross did not reopen the conversation. 

The carriage went on, rumbling as it rode over the road. The otherwise quiet was not entirely unwelcome, he found. The thrill had begun to seep away from him, and now he realised how much the day had tired him out. There was an ache in his bones he could not ignore. 

He carefully glanced to Dream. He was not looking at him anymore, instead gazing off into the distance out the window. He looked serene, but perhaps he was checking to ensure they weren’t being followed. He’d learnt by now that Dream was beautiful in everything he did, even slaughter.

Dream had taken off his mask. He realised it with a jolt. Had he taken it off while Cross was contending with his dizzy spell? 

Dream was still looking out the window. His hands were folded in his lap, his back upright. In the quiet his gaze was no longer as bright. As if, they had no need to gleam in the dark night already devoid of light. Other than stars, he realised. But his gold pupils were not that different from small stars.

Dream was beautiful.

It felt like ice in his stomach. If he did not know, he could have been fooled into thinking he was just some rich man. 

Cross’s eyes were on the floor. He was breathing, quietly. 

It was a quiet night. Eventually, he felt the weight of Dream’s gaze shift onto him. He did not lift his head to meet his gaze. For a while, they were just— coexisting. He could not hear Dream’s breathing over his own, but he did not need to.

No, he could. A rattling breath, he could see out the corner of his eye Dream adjusting. Tensing? 

He caught his eye. 

Dream’s pupils were agleam again.

“Cross,” He murmured, or called. It was urgent. 

Cross felt himself inadvertently tensing up. 

Dream was watching from the window. His eyes were alert, he was not smiling. His hands in his lap were unfolded. Were they in danger? He was still scanning the outside with the air of  a predator. Dream was, abruptly, a God again.

Suddenly Cross knew it: Dream was not certain. Whatever he had detected, he was not sure of it.

Cross breathed. Wasn’t that terrifying? There was a crackle. He heard it. A sharp noise that cut through the stillness; he looked to Dream, but Dream had completely stilled. His pupils, ever so subtly, dilated. 

There was light. A warm glow, cascading from the window. It came all too quickly that Cross only realised in the split second that Dream reached for him. Fire. 

For a moment, there was light.

Through his ribs, in his soul, like a twisting breath in his throat— there was pain. Black spots danced around in his vision, and barely, he registered the dirt beneath his knees. Sour nausea stirred in his throat, he opened his mouth and there was blood dripping from it to his hands. The ache in his bones was now a weight crushing—   he could not breath. 

He coughed wetly. No, he could. It was just hard. Through the black blotting over his vision, he could make out a silhouette of light. Dream?

They were no longer in the carriage, he realised. Had Dream teleported them out? There was something wrong. How had he gotten hurt? He felt the pain in his chest, uncomprehending. 

There was fire. The black spots were blotting out. There was raging fire all around them. It was night now, surely if he looked up he’d catch a star or two, but he could not quite move his head. 

Dream was agleam. He was— the very air around him shimmered with a sort of golden light. He had something in his hands. What was it? Cross strained to look closer though he could not move. 

There were moving figures. They were not Dream. Something in his head went off: Danger! Cross felt his magic weakly tensing up, but his vision was going in and out of focus, and fire. There was fire everywhere. There was something in Dream’s hands. He couldn’t make out its shape exactly, but vaguely he knew it was a weapon. They were in danger, he knew that with certainty, and in the hardness of his stance Cross thought, he’s protecting us.

But who are they? The figures shrouded in shadow were approaching, and— he could not move. He tried to move his fingers, but he couldn’t. He tried to stir, but all he felt was a weak flicker of magic, and vaguely he thought he had broken a rib. The panic came to him strangely, detached. He knew pain. He knew how to endure, but this was not the pain he knew.

He could hardly think. He breathed, the breath sour, and for a moment he caught the outline of a bowstring, pulled back, and then the slim shape of an arrow. He could not catch the shape of the bow, however, because in the next moment he had lurch back dizzyingly for he was suddenly choking on nothing. Was it nothing? It smelled like smoke. So much smoke

“I can’t feel anything.”

That was Dream’s voice. He knew it like a lover did, by now. He couldn’t feel? His vision was blurrily blotting over with black again, but he fought to see. The figures were no longer figures, he could see their skin, their eyes, clothes. Their clothes were torn. One was missing an eye. It hung from a socket, loosely connected by a thin vein, swinging gently. Cross froze. 

He recognised the discoloured, patchy skins. It was a dead man’s skin.

Nightmare. The thought was a whisper, but it made his head spin with the aching dread it brought. He knew these men. Nightmare’s foot soldiers. He remembered rotting flesh, dark glassy eyes, and the smell of rot. 

Did Dream mean the soulbeat of the dead men, when he said he couldn’t feel anything? 

If he had it in him, he would’ve shivered. There were always worse existences out there. Cross may have been indebted to him, but at least he was more useful alive than dead. Sometimes he thought Nightmare was over controlling. It must’ve been at some level comforting, having an army of puppets. Had they started the fire?

His hand came away from his mouth, wet and sticky. The army of the dead. That was what they called them, though they did so sparingly, as if for the sake of preserving what little morale there was left in the world.

He ought to move, to warn Dream, say anything. They were persistent things. An arrow to the head or a knife in the back would’ve meant nothing at all. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak. Was it a rib that broke? Something was broken. He was on the ground, though the sky and the earth felt as if they were melting into each other in his blurry vision.

The breath in his throat felt as thick as the blood in his mouth. - - - - - It felt all too smooth. Dream thought he’d forgotten, but it came to him like instinct. It was an instinct. Arrow nocked, bowstring back, and it tore across the air. He could imbue the arrows with Positivity, turn the arrow metal to gold, but he could not burn himself out here. Blue was away, and Cross was with him. He had more than himself to worry about.

Who were they? Were they Nightmare’s men? He certainly felt the heavy ache of Nightmare’s magic at work in the very air, undoubtedly it was his influence. But he felt no emotion. Not even a glimmer of malice. Had Nightmare lured some men into doing his dirty work? The men (who weren’t in the best condition, but were still a threat) approaching were wreathed in the faint light of fire, but though they brought with them the heaviness in the air characteristic of Nightmare’s magic (and, of course, Dream felt his soul beating erratically at the air that was like poison to him) it was as if they were not men. 

They weren’t illusions, he knew that much from the arrow sticking out of one of their skulls, but they were still moving. If his arrows stopped, it would not take long for one of them to finally get a good enough hold on their knife and use it. 

“I can’t feel anything,” He murmured to himself. 

His Empathy reached desperately, pulling at them in every direction, but there was nothing. Were the men asleep? There was an arrow in one’s head, another arrow in another’s abdomen. Surely that would’ve woken them up. Were they under a spell? But at least one of his arrows would have struck through a soul by now. How were they still moving?

Cross might’ve had a hand in it. He couldn’t forget he had one of Nightmare’s most trusted men with him. Had he led him into a trap? His Empathy split, a thin thread reaching behind him. Fear. Anxiety. It came to him blurrily, Cross was probably disoriented. But no malice.

Good enough, he thought grimly, and did not turn. There were fires. Normal fire, the type that came from struck flint. Not his Fire. He could feel Nightmare’s mockery from just that. The Sun Fire in him reared up. 

How far were they from the town? He did not want to ruin the town. His Empathy distended, reaching out further; was there life near them?

There was fire. He realised abruptly that they were trapped, fire at every corner. Nightmare knew Dream could not be hurt by fire, so why do this? If Cross wasn’t with him, he could’ve just left. But of course there was always the chance of these men escaping into the town with enough time for them to cross the distance. He could not let them go where they could hurt people.

Something caught him in the shoulder. He instinctively released another arrow and re-nocked another formed quickly in his hands. The hot-red arrow metal would’ve burned if he wasn’t who he was. The first one to reach him (or, the closest too) got an arrow in his throat, and no blood spilled out the gash when Dream pulled away the arrow-used-as-a-knife. No blood? 

Another had gotten to his ribs, a thin slice against— he pushed another arrowhead into their gut and with his knee slammed them to the ground before throwing another arrow into another’s skull. The latter merely stumbled before; the former got back up right behind him.

The one with an arrow in his gut had eyes a glassy black. There was no life in the eyes. 

Dream almost froze. Were they alive at all?

They were swarming him, and he cut down all of them, but they came back for him. The fires were burning, too, swallowing foliage and dirt alike. The once small fires were consuming more, more, more. There was too much destruction. There would be too much destruction. 

They were far enough from the town. He was well aware of the weightiness in the air and the growing ache in his bones. If he was to use his Sun Fire, he had to do it now before the ache consumed most of the vigour he still had. He might already be tiring out. 

He waited a moment more, for them to draw closer. 

In the next, Dream erupted.  - - - - - Vaguely, Cross thought he was looking at a dying star. Perhaps it had fallen down from the sky, some jewel of light, because the erupting light overwhelming his vision was so bright it could not have been from the earth. 

Something was wrong. Something, innately, was wrong. 

There was a warmth— no, heat, emitting from the light. It might’ve been burning him, but probably not. Cross felt nothing at all. 

Somehow, he thought something had broken in him. The pain came to him detached, as if not a part of his being. Or perhaps it was him that had lost his grip on his body.

He clung onto his last thread of consciousness, but it soon snapped. - - - - - Though it did not hurt, it still burned. Dream was caught between the soft heat in his soul and the warmth around him, in him, beyond him. For an instant, he was just Fire. He burned through everything: the soil, the trees, the air. He was blinded by the glare of the Fire that was his own.

He had to persist. It would not take long for the burning wood to be turned to ash by his Fire, but it would still take time. Burn away the wood, snuff out the fire, with Fire.

Somewhere, he thought: I waited too long. 

He kept the Fire burning for as long as he could, but he could not stop the Fire from dipping into Flame, the Flames into Flickers, and then on his knees (somewhere in the fire he had stumbled forward) the flickering Flames were snuffed out as if they had never been there. 

The men were ash.

Dream blinked the remaining blurriness from his vision. He shouldn’t have waited. He should’ve just taken them out earlier. His limbs felt like lead.

It would’ve been nice to curl up, and rest. His head certainly was heavy enough. He was still hot, though. The ground beneath him was a discoloured red, and the soil stuck to him like crumbling sand.

How had people working for Nightmare got in? There had to be a weakness somewhere. He had to locate it soon, or there would just be more coming in. He could not put his people in danger.

Dream, unsteadily, got to his feet. He felt like a wreck. He was a wreck. The Fire had taken a lot out of him. He had a lot to take care of, but for now, he had to return and rest. Or else, he’d just collapse like a dead thing. 

Something clung to his head insistently. Something was wrong, obviously, but he was in no condition to fix it. But it refused to back down. Something was wrong. Dream tried to shake it off again, but it refused to let go.

There was someone on the ground, not too far from him. He froze. 

“Cross.” The name came out of him like a breath. “ Cross.” It tore through him. Dream threw himself to Cross’ side. 

There was blood everywhere. Fuck, he thought desperately. Fuck. He’d forgotten. Moon-Stained souls and his magic should never mix. “Cross,” He called out again desperately. Cross was unconscious. He had to be. He couldn’t be dead. 

His hands were on his chest, searching and feeling for just a soulbeat. It could be quiet. He just needed to feel a thump. That was all he needed. 

The healing magic was at his fingertips, but— would it just make it worse? He was thinking desperately. All his magic was rooted in Positivity. Normally the little Positivity in his healing magic was negligible, would it just be the last straw now?

And he’d teleported Cross out. Then the Sun Fire. Fuck.  

“Cross!” He found a soulbeat, however weak. He nearly collapsed in relief. Then he pulled himself together, and hesitantly, adjusted Cross so that he could lift him from the ground. 

Dream’s head was throbbing, now, and all the concerns were swirling around in his head. But he had someone so close to death’s door in his arms (and, that was his fault); even if Cross had a hand in this trap, which he thought was unlikely but still possible, he could not lose him. He’d broken the decades-long (or perhaps even centuries-long) standstill between him and Nightmare for the opportunity Cross provided. He’d known the risk Cross brought, and took him in anyway.

Please, don’t die on the way, he thought. Cross’ breathing was almost entirely silent. He himself could hardly breathe. Dream almost stumbled as he carried Cross to the carriage.

The horses had been noticeably hurt. Their skins were splattered with red splotches, and some spots were more swollen than others. That was fine. They were just imitations of horses enough to pull a carriage, not real horses. He need not worry about them too. Ink would fix them when he came to visit. 

Ink. That was a whole other problem he did not feel like dealing with. So Dream put it away and just got into the carriage (still solid, but again it was made of magic not too dissimilar from Sun Fire) with Cross wrapped in his arms. He ought to put him down, but what if he knocked into the side of the carriage? He could not protect himself while unconscious.

Yet keeping him in his arms felt a tad bit intimate. And he didn’t know if the proximity would make it worse. 

Eventually, as the horses began their trot again, Dream compromised by seating Cross next to him so he’d be able to catch him if he began to fall over. 

Dream was so, so tired. But he had to stay awake. Once they got back, he’d find all the healing elixirs and whatnot. Once Blue got back, he’d have to ask him to take care of him for him. He did not want to risk being too close to Cross and worsening his condition. 

Dream let out a sigh. He knew how to act. The masks of Dream, God, and Noble were like second skins by now. But now, seated in a carriage being pulled by horses of Creation and one of Nightmare’s right hand men leaning against him, so utterly vulnerable, Dream could not help but feel the aching tiredness in his bones.

On Mercy (ao3: x)

The Council has been at war with the Emperor (more colloquially known as the King of Nightmares) for a long, long time. After defeat after defeat, they find themselves with no option but to request help from his fabled twin.

However, Dream will not help them for free; he locks eyes with Cross, and decides he wants him in exchange for the war victory. It is an easy choice to make.

But Cross is terribly apprehensive, because he his loyalty is not to the Council, but to Nightmare as a spy, and Dream is Nightmare's mortal enemy. Moreover he suspects Dream chose him knowing this, wanting information about his twin; and the issue is, Nightmare is absolutely unforgiving of traitors.

But he cannot offend Dream, for he too is an Immortal and God. He cannot forget that both Dream and Nightmare is dangerous, that any wrong move will end in his demise or worse.

(He forgets, however, that he himself is mortal.)

[OR: A Empire/Kingdoms UTMV AU, where Cross is caught between the crossfire of Immortal/Gods! Dreamtale Twins and some involvement with God!Errorink too.]

Inspired by love, in fire and blood by cicer

Chapter 1: a deal is struck

The tides would shift soon, they told themselves. Each day’s fresh defeats were a necessary evil, soon the tides would shift and they would have their victories. This war would be theirs to win. 

That was the belief of the dreamers among them. Those who held onto their hopes even as they buried their comrades day after day.

Then there were the defeated, the broken. Those who had given up their hopes for a better life and fought to survive. Sometimes they just gave up and let the ocean take them, or the earth. It would be a kinder fate than joining his army of the dead.

Even with all the Kingdoms of the World allied together, his Empire overshadowed them all. Even in their Council, even with Kings and Queens and Dukes and Countesses they all seemed to have some grasp on the truth. Some awareness of their position, of defeat after defeat.

Cross watched them debate, then argue, then lament. They were losing, they all knew it. He knew it too. Even as a lowly soldier (it was what he was best at) he knew it, saw it in the numbers they were losing and the grim lines in their faces. He didn’t say anything, however, and lowered his head as they discussed troops and strategy. 

As if he’d heard nary a word of the King of Nightmares.

There were rumours about him. He went by other names, too. The Cruel Prince, once. The Boy of the Night. There were rumours that he was a God, some that he was an immortal. (The Moon Immortal, they called him.) Some that he was just a regular mortal drunk on power. But what mortal lived for centuries?

The Council, at least in part, suspected his immortality. Perhaps even Godhood. But they did not want to, because their hopes of success were already dismal. 

But there were stories that brought them impossible hopes. Stories about his twin, the Light to his Darkness. Stories, not rumours, for the twin was so little known about him and far less about his twin. At one point the numbers had climbed too high and someone bravely made the suggestion. Could we reach out to his twin for help? First, it had been a casual remark. But slowly it made its way into the official discussion, its feasibility and possibility debated alongside strategy and supply. Not happily debated, of course, for the implication was that they had no other choice. But Cross, again, remained silent as they worked out the finer details. First, they worked out how they’d contact him in the first place; a letter, perhaps, but it would need to be published everywhere to get his attention. That meant that it couldn’t contain anything sensitive, but they could work around that.

A few sessions later (and a couple lost battles) the letter was drafted. Soon after, published world wide. Hours later, they got their response. Though they would not discover it till the morning after. His reply had been burned into the walls of their Council Chambers.

To the Council:I hear you. I agree that my brother has been excessive in his terror; I also agree that you cannot win this war without me. It is not a matter of your weakness, but rather his strength. It’s time my brother is stopped. 

However, I will not do it for free. On the Summer Solstice I shall attend your Council to discuss our terms. I sincerely hope we’ll find an agreeable compromise then.- The Sun Immortal.

At this the Council was entirely silent. There was only the sound of breathing, then gasping, and slowly they erupted. Insolence and arrogance bounced across the room: “What hubris!” “Is it hubris if he’s an Immortal?” And, of course, the confirmation of immortality. Though that was somehow the least shocking tidbit. 

The writing was oddly neat for having been burned in, Cross noted. Then how long till the Summer Solstice? and what can we offer him?; of course they hadn’t been so optimistic to assume he would help them free of charge, but faced with the confirmation they suddenly found it difficult to discern what an Immortal would want in exchange. Gold and jewellery seemed like rewards for the living, for the mortal; would such material rewards be accepted? 

What if he wanted land, instead? A crown, a Kingdom? What, then? They spent more time debating their terms than drafting the letter. But they had to come to a conclusion soon, as Asgore reminded them: the Summer Solstice was a mere three days away.

Finally they voted, and it was decided. They would ask him what he wanted in return first, and work from there. Surely if he was taking the time to discuss with them, he did want the deal to go through, and if he wanted it to succeed, he would not ask for something impossible. Surely?

However, they still prepared for all the options thought up in their hours of discussion. Rubies, sapphires and emeralds polished and stored away in trunks with gold and silver coins beneath them; carefully stored crowns with freshly gilded gold and polished jewels; cloaks and clothing made out of silk or laced with furs, etc. 

Even obscure recipes were brought out, like boiled gold soup and silver ingot bites. The food once regarded as the highest cuisine, only for the wealthiest. Not anymore, of course, but nonetheless.

Finally, the preparations made not in official Council discussion but covert exchanges to prepare a variety of beauties. Some fair-skinned, some not. Some freckled, some not. Some muscled, some not. Some more compliant, some more recalcitrant, some more aggressive.

We don’t know his tastes, and there was an undercurrent of humour in it, even. It would not be the first time someone demanded people for their war efforts.

It was a little extreme. Even Nightmare’s tastes were… ah, somewhat sane. But Cross didn’t know the Sun Immortal, so perhaps his tastes were indeed less sane. Nonetheless the day of the Summer Solstice arrived like the sun rising for each day.

Now the Council would be arriving earlier today for fear of missing the Immortal’s visit, but though they’d arrived at their predetermined time (just after dawn) there was already someone there. A stranger in light silks, asleep in one of the chairs. Arms folded, head dipped, sleeping quietly.

His breathing was quiet, but it was still there, and in the silence of their held breaths they heard it clearer than their own. No sooner had the first of them stepped over the threshold, however, did the stranger’s eyes flutter open. “Ah, good morning.” His voice was clear and light; like a drink of water in the desert. “I assume you’re the Council?” There was a silence, before CORE Frisk responded, “Yes. I assume you’re the Sun Immortal?” At that, a sweet chuckle. Still so light, sweeter than honeycomb. “Officially, yes; but just call me Dream.” At that, whispers again: but they were quickly silenced by a look from Undyne. The Council had tentatively started filling in, all the while Dream was looking at them rather curiously, a hint of amusement in his gaze yet any mocking absent from it. Just like how an adult would look at a child. Like an immortal gazing upon mortals?

Cross was familiar with that sort of look.

Dream got to his feet and tilted his head. “I’m assuming I wasn’t so fortunate to choose my seat on a guess?” “Unfortunately not, but we’ll show you to your seat?” CORE Frisk had taken a tentative step forward when he raised his hand abruptly— lazily? “No need.” He reached over and grabbed the shoulder of the nearest Guard. “You.” He smiled. “Show me to my seat.” The poor Monster was so very stiff as he led the Sun Immortal to his seat; a cushioned, grand thing, positioned in the centre of the rows of seats wrapping around it in a circle. 

Cross made sure he wasn’t scrunching his eyebrows. Wouldn’t that be obvious that it was his, a seat in the middle? And once again that sweet, clear laughter. “Oh, that’s— aha .” His fist crumpled over his teeth and mouth. “It’s just— ah, it’s almost as if I’m on trial.” He pulled his hand away from his mouth. “So, terms! What will you offer me?” And Cross swore his golden eyes, though still agleam, sharpened. 

Dream had not taken his seat.

“What would an esteemed Immortal such as yourself prefer?” Asgore’s tone had found the cadences of officiality, of usual Palace affairs or even mundane Council business. Still, it seemed to interest the Immortal (Dream, was it?) as he looked to him intently. “Such as I?” He laughed again, but this time it wasn’t as sweet. “Unfortunately, I don’t know what I want. It’s up to you to make a good offer, Your Majesty.” 

In the Immortal’s mouth, the title was like dust. But to his credit Asgore maintained his composure and answered. “I suppose I should start off with the simplest offer. Coin? Jewels?” And it was evident that he did not think Dream would accept this offer. And he was right, Dream only raised an eyebrow. “I can find jewels anywhere. Coin even more so. What else do you have?” And then the silks, the cloth. He was as unimpressed with the offer as with the first, but strangely, Cross noticed from his place against the wall, not an inkling of disappointment lined his face. Still he let them offer more, and more. Offer after offer was raised with the speed of bullet fire, flying across the space as they desperately tried to appease the Sun Immortal.

Silently, Dream raised his palm. It seemed his patience had reached its limit.

“And what if I said I want people?” Immediately the tension in the room thickened. Looks were exchanged, confused blue on repulsed green, yellow irritation on pink curiosity. CORE Frisk observed Dream quietly, but did not speak up. Dream smiled a tiny small smile.

“Well, Esteemed Immortal,” Duke Isre murmured hesitantly. "If it would please you, you may have your pick of the courtesans of my court.”

“And mine, of course!” Another hurried to protest. “The courtesans of Sere are known for their allure—” “Oh?” Dream’s eyes seemed to sparkle. “Tell me more.” Then there were a dozen, more than a dozen, speaking at once; all so eager to grasp at the Immortal’s interest. 

But that wasn’t a sparkle. Cross swallowed the sigh into his throat. It was a gleam: the gleam of amusement, of sardonicism. Dream was not interested in them, not truly.

But their offers of concubines and courtesans only continued, each one more outlandish than the first. Blue eyes like sea sapphires. Gold hair like threaded gold. Skin as smooth as a babe’s. Teeth like mermaid pearls. He had to force his eyes not to roll. Somewhere in him, however, there was the smallest shred of pity. Of irritation. If the Council failed to negotiate terms, they would lose their last hope. They were making too many mistakes; mistakes that were obvious in hindsight, but not so much in the doing; mistakes that were his job to report back to Nightmare to be exploited.

He did pity them, somewhat. He couldn’t just stand around and not see how much the common people were suffering. Starving children and cold corpses. Empty homes and unburied bodies.

But the Council was full of Kings and Queens, Dukes and Duchesses. People who’d never lived a day of hardship in their lives. People who, only a century ago or two, would’ve been delighting in tasteless gold delicacies while the people starved of famine. The generals and soldiers, he was annoyed less by. They were competent, at least. But they still could not fight a God, certainly not Nightmare. It was their deaths he felt more guilt over.

“Dream,” CORE Frisk suddenly cut in. “You haven’t accepted any of our offers. May I ask what they lack?”

Dream locked eyes with CORE Frisk. To their credit. CORE Frisk stayed unflinching. There was a moment of quiet, of tension.

Cross realised Dream was no longer smiling. “Since you’ve asked, CORE, I’m more than willing to oblige. You see,” He gestured vaguely around him. “I believe I never said anything about wanting someone to warm my bed.”

He turned his eye upon the one who had gotten the ball rolling. 

“You know, I’m beginning to rethink this,” He said casually. “Maybe we aren’t suited for an alliance after all.” There was a dead silence. And then there was nary a sound, save for CORE Frisk: “I’m sorry for any offence caused, Dream,” They began. “May I ask why?”

There was sharp laughter, in the silence. Not a single eye wasn’t upon the Immortal, and Cross unconsciously noted CORE Frisk too was on their feet. “You want me to answer to you?” Like a violin string drawn taut, like the lightning striking the earth, backs straightened and sharp, fearful gazes were exchanged. “A little pretentious, don’t you think?” His eye was on CORE Frisk. The string, taut and tauter. CORE Frisk opened their mouth, but no words came out. 

Too taut and now the ripped alliance between them. Dream still looked unbothered under the fearful and indignant glares of the Council. 

“May I ask what it is that you want?” CORE Frisk tried, ever the meditator. “Or even just what you don’t want.” Dream looked into the rows and rows of people. Slowly, he turned his gaze down the row.

“I’m beginning to think,” He said softly. “That you don’t have what I want."

Well, that was it, then. There was relief of having finally bitten the bullet. Dream wasn’t going to help the Council after all. Nightmare would be happy to hear that, right? Momentarily his eyebrows almost scrunched together.

It would be difficult to get news to him, especially news of this nature. He’d have to wait till Dust came by to pass the news: it was always risking making contact on his own.

A pity, though. CORE Frisk’s face was blank, but they must’ve been disappointed. They weren’t as bad as the rest, really. But CORE Frisk was one person and the rest (whom he had little pity for) always outweighed them. 

A pity, but a small amount of it only. CORE Frisk was blank, but probably carefully blank. 

Dream locked eyes with him. 

“You.” 

Cross stilled. Those golden eyes, bright and alert, were on him now.

“Come here.” His outreached hand was curved, fingers beckoning. Cross did not move for the first few seconds. His eyes were on Cross’; no mocking, no amusement: there was nothing Cross could recognise. 

Then, slowly, he took his first step. Then another. Then another. All the while the quiet had been broken but quiet exhales, gasps, confused rustling and carefully blank faces almost faltering.

Soon he was before Dream. A smile was pulling at his teeth. “Ah, may I ask for your name, sir?” Cross felt the welt of saliva in his throat. “Cross, Esteemed Immortal.” Dream smiled indulgently, and reached for his chin. His breath was in his throat; then, ever Cross’ saviour, CORE Frisk interrupted. “May I ask what the Esteemed Immortal wants of this Guard?” “A Guard, huh?” There was interest in his eyes, but his hand still did not let go. “I see. I don’t suppose he’s a recent one?”

On instinct, most of the Council turned to Undyne, but she was looking to CORE Frisk with a sigh in her throat. “He was recruited by CORE, not me.” “He was not raised to be a Guard,” CORE Frisk said delicately, as it was the custom. “But he was enough strong and clever to be one, and I happened upon him a few years ago. I beg your Esteemed Immortals forgiveness for any caused offence on his behalf.”

A light laugh, through the hall. Suddenly the weighted air lightened and Cross could breathe again when the hand withdrew from his chin. “No no, no offence at all. I’ve merely found my answer to your question, CORE Frisk.” Just slightly, they tilted their head with the air of curiosity. “You have?”

There was ice in Cross’ stomach. 

“I shall help you in your war. By next month you will regain your frontlines,” He said casually. “You may reveal my part in it, or you may not. This I have no concern about. But in exchange,” And his eyes turned on Cross.

Fuck.

“Will you come with me?” And his voice was so soft, so sweet. It was so different from Nightmare’s, yet exactly the same air of persuasion.

Cross’s words were in his stomach; weighing heavily. 

“May I clarify your intentions, Esteemed Immortal?” CORE Frisk carefully asked.

In turn, Dream sighed. “Why does everyone here insist on calling me that? Have I not said to call me Dream?”

“May we clarify your intentions, Dream?” The voice was just as dry.

“Isn’t it obvious? If he’ll have me,” He turned to him slightly. Cross steeled himself. “I’ll have him.”

Undyne frowned. “He is not a pig for sale. Courtesans, maybe,” And the look she sent the Court was no less disdainful than Dream’s earlier words, “Because it’s their job. But Cross is one of the Guard, not a cow to be bartered away to be a bed-warmer.” At cow, Cross almost flinched. God, that comedic timing was terrible and hilarious at the same time. Dream turned his gaze onto Undyne, who did not flinch, but subtly drew back. “I believe I have made myself clear,” He said quietly. “For him, I shall help you with your war. Without him, you die and your Kingdoms turn to dust. Simple as.”

There was a very clear swear in Cross’ head, confusion tenfold as he looked to CORE Frisk (he could do that, it would be in-character for what they knew him as) but there was conflict and no more in their gaze. 

“CORE, perhaps— perhaps it would be best. If the Immortal wants him, in exchange for victory…” The voice trailed over. Dream’s gaze was still on CORE Frisk, waiting. 

Abruptly Cross became aware of the eyes on him. The knowing gazes, the knowing eyes. Cross felt his face warm. 

“No.” CORE Frisk finally spoke, firm. “No, he is not a pig for sale. Jewels and gold, I can offer you. Land and palaces, yes. Silks and furs, yes. But I will not barter you a person who has yet to say anything on the matter.”

“But I did not ask you.” Once again his words held the air of spelling out something incredibly obvious. “I asked you, Cross.”

And once again Cross found himself at a loss of what to do when his gaze was upon him once more. “Will you come with me? For the war?” Well, I’m actually on the other side of it, Cross thought anxiously. But he kept his voice steady (or as steady as it should be for someone about to be sent away) and spoke to CORE Frisk. “CORE, if I agree, will— will it stop the war?” CORE Frisk held his gaze for a second more. “Yes, but… but it’s still your choice.”

Ha. No it wasn’t. He could feel the weight of a thousand eyes, of expectation, weighing on his very bones. It seemed Dream knew it too.

Dream and CORE Frisk exchanged a strange look.

Cross opened his mouth, little choice left. “Then I accept. I will go with you, and you will help—” He almost said them . “ Us, win the war.” He only hoped Nightmare would not see it as traitorous. 

Dream smiled brightly. “That was easy, wasn’t it?” He pulled a ring off his finger (and it was then Cross noticed the rings on his fingers, gold but the gold not of solid ingots but of the gold of sunlight) and gently took hold of Cross’ hand. He stiffened almost immediately, but Dream said nothing of it as he slid the ring on.

Onto his ring finger.

Well, a very public engagement.

“A gift,” Dream explained. “I will pay your family the rest of the dowry the next time I visit.”

The words stuck in Cross’ throat. “I don’t have a family.”

Because family did not seem like the right word for, ah, Nightmare’s right hand men. 

Dream blinked slowly. “Oh?” But he did not soften. “Nonetheless, I’ll come by soon.”

Cross, almost imperceptibly, nodded. It was all Dream needed, it seemed. With a rustle of silk, a gleam of light, he was gone.

And Cross was alone in the middle, a thousand eyes upon him. 

“Is there anything else?” Undyne said sharply. Angrily, almost. Cross kept his gaze on the floor. He would not know how to act if he locked gazes with anyone else. There was a silence. But Undyne did not speak again. Still there were a thousand gazes on him.

Cross feet turned and he left the Council chambers though it was against protocol. He knew no one would blame him for it; there would be no point, and far too risky to lay a hand on an Immortal’s betrothed. 

Just before he passed the doors, however, he had faintly registered that the burned-in words on the walls were gone.

Cross prayed that Dust would come by soon, so they’d hear the news from Cross’ own mouth and not rumours spreading quicker than wildfire. Not Horror, the hole in his skull too recognizable, and certainly not Killer with his messy dripping eyes. Dust was always the one sent by Nightmare. So Cross left the windows unlocked, staying awake for hours at a time. But, it seemed his prayers did not hold that much weight at all. If ever. Dust did not come the next day, nor the one after. He had the feeling something was going on behind the scenes, why else would an Immortal choose a random Guard? But he could not confirm his suspicions, for there was no one to talk to. No one came for him.

[miiyuki]

scenes like this

— pairing: eren jaeger x f!reader

— summary: you and eren have an encounter in the kitchen

— warnings: kitchen sex, oral (f!receiving), one (1) use of "princess", creampie

— wordcount: 1.4k

finals had been killing you. eren wasn't free often, always at the library studying with armin or he's in his room studying. study, study, study. that's all it felt like you guys did nowadays.

with the weather heating up lately as it's just in the middle of summer, it felt like you could feel every bead of sweat drip down your neck and down your back. it was hard to focus on anything like this. unable to concentrate, you stood up from your desk and decided to get something cold to drink. if not cold, just anything at all to drink.

walking into the kitchen, you put your flashcards down and look into the fridge. bending over, you reach for the bottom drawer and peer inside. hmm.. you wonder, lemonade or that fruity drink eren made the other day..

suddenly pulling you from your thinking, you feel a pair of hands grab the flesh of your hips. shocked, you turn around quickly.

"mm, what's wrong? it's just me." eren smiles.

eyes softening, you admire him. he looked stunning with his hair messily tied back – small pieces of hair left in front. even more eye-catching, you slowly look down and admire the small tent in his pants. "was it that nice of a view?" you say with a giggle. "don't mind that, what're you doing?" eren says, changing the subject and putting his hands back on your waist, playing with the waistband of your shorts.

"better question, what're you doing? weren't you studying with armin? didn't expect you to be here so early.." you say as you slowly back up – his hands still on your waist – and close the fridge. "ehh, we finished early since armin had to go home and do something. were you studying?" he asks as he presses kisses to your neck.

"yeah, it's so hot in here though. i left the room for a drink." you say, head falling to his shoulder. "school's been so much lately. if only i could take a real break, you know?"

eren nods and places his hand up your shorts –holding your ass in his large hands – gripping the flesh. "are you always horny? you could just ask y'know." you laugh.

"mmm, yeah. i know." he stops. "you're wearing such thin panties; this wet already?" he says as he traces a line over your panties where your slick seeps out.

you glance away, flustered. eren kisses your neck softly while you attempt to hold back a moan, considering that you're in the kitchen with the windows open.

eren pushes you against the counter and kisses you deeply, tugging at your soft, plush lips. he pulls away and looks at you, eyes asking for consent. you nod and he continues, pulling your shorts down in a swift movement. he watches you as you reach your hand down and take your panties off, slick connecting in a string. he grabs the panties from your hand and stuffs them into his front pocket. you glare at him and he responds, "for later activities..."

he lifts you up over the counter and pushes you back, holding the backs of your knees. he feels his pants growing tighter as he looks down and sees how wet you are, his mouth watering. he gets on his knees in front of the counter so your pussy is on his display, glistening from your wetness. eren pulls your cunt closer to his face and places a kiss on your clit. he sees you clenching around nothing, making him grow impatient– and in other places, but he keeps calm. he's gonna take this slow.

"needy, are we?" eren says before he starts kissing the inside of your thighs, placing a kiss close to your wetness, but not enough.

"please, eren..", you whine. "please.. i want it.."

in the usual situation, he would give in and reward you, but he hasn't felt you in almost two weeks. he wants to keep this going slow as long as he can.

"want it? want what?" eren teases, knowing exactly what you want.

"y-your.. your fingers.. please.. your mouth.. anything. please." you plead.

the pads of eren's fingertips lightly brush your clit, not being anything close to what you're wanting. "like this?" eren sneers making your brows furrow. before you can whine or plead any further, he spits on your entrance, making you even wetter than before.

he slowly inserts a finger into your cunt, falling into the warm, wet feeling. "i've missed this.." he says looking up you while he adds another one of his fingers. "me too..", you're cut off when he starts sucking sloppily at your clit and you cover your mouth in an attempt to block out the loud moan you let out.

"what're you so shy about, pretty? the neighbors? i wanna hear your pretty moans, its okay." he says as he pops away from your clit with a sucking kiss. it's all too much for you. at this rate, you'll cum fast.

he goes back to lapping at your folds while fucking you with his fingers, whimpers leaving your lips and your hands finding his hair. he moans into your pussy as you yank and thread your fingers through his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

"mmm, fuck 'ren.." you moan out as his tongue swirls slowly around your clit, clenching against his face. " 'm gonna cum", you whisper out, making him slurp away sloppily at your clit.

with a loud moan, you cum on his face, thighs threatening to close around his head. your hips move up and try to move away from his face but he follows after, working you through your orgasm.

your chest heaving and legs trembling, eren lets out a hum of delight– getting up and kissing you. you could taste yourself on him, making you smile.

" 'ren.. i want you.. p-please fuck me..", you whine, looking up and pawing at his bulge. "need it.."

eren unbuckles his pants and pulls them down, revealing his hard-on. you pull his boxers down and his cock springs out hitting his stomach, pre-cum leaking from the tip. his size never fails to make you drool, always wondering if it'll even fit. he lifts you up, turns you around, and presses you between him and the fridge, holding your legs open and letting your slick drip down. you wrap your arms around him as support and leave marks on his neck as he finds a way that you're both comfortable and rubs the head of his cock around your slicked entrance before slipping in – letting out a moan.

despite how wet you were or how used to it you were eren always stretched you out. he pulled out slightly before he stuffed himself back inside of you.

"fuuuuck.. you're so wet.." he mutters as he starts rocking forward, hitting spots you could never reach with your fingers. a string of broken moans matching his thrusts leave your swollen lips as he picks up the pace and fucks into you roughly.

eren kisses your neck messily – just how he likes it, as he whispers praises into your ear. "you're doing so well, princess. you're taking me so well."

he's so huge. every time he thrusted into you it felt like you were getting the breath knocked out of you. you couldn't hold back any of the whimpers he was threading out of you. your brain starts to go foggy and your legs shake around his hips as you start to lose stamina.

eren pushes you harder into the fridge, getting his cock deeper and hitting where you needed him. in a matter of seconds, you're cumming again, body shaking then going limp.

it feels like forever that he's been thrusting into you, as you start to feel overstimulated – whining and tears falling as you let him use your body to chase his own release.

his hips falter and stutter as his cock twitches and he's releasing his cum into you, painting your walls with his seed and fucking it deep into you. eren turns you back around and lays you on the cold tiles of the kitchen counter, watching as his cum seeps out of your sweaty body.

"i think that was a good break." he laughs.

[sluttyhusband]

Patience Pays Off

Chris Evans x Male Marvel actor

Requested by anon: “Hi there can I request Chris evans x male reader where they are at the avengers endgame premiere and the reader decides to tease him so when they get home the reader gets punished for being a tease and not listening to chris with these two prompts "If you insist on using that mouth, I suggest we put it to better use" and "I suppose you’d like your blindfold taken off now? Too bad". You can also add edging/over stimulation to it too and after care. (and can the reader be a part of the cast). Sorry if this is too specific and if you are not comfortable with it then its cool. Thank you ❤️”

‘He looks so fucking sexy in that suit’ you thought looking at Chris as he walked down the red carpet.

You couldn’t believe it was yours and Chris’ last Marvel movie, how far the two of you have com, friends to lovers. And oh dear god the sex, absolutely unimaginable. The way he could be rough like an animal but also the most romantic passionate sex it could also be. Always an amazing man.

After some interviews you and the rest of the cast go to the theatre and you, as usual, take a seat next to Chris. “Hi honey”, he says with a smile, “Hi babe”, you say as you sit down and place a hand on his thigh.

An hour into the movie you start moving your hand closer and closer to his crotch. Seeing how he tenses and the slow growing bulge you start rubbing it. He grabs your wrist and places it back on your thigh, “Always the exhibitionist huh? Too bad honey, you’ll have to wait.”

‘Unbelievable’, you thought, still being stubborn you continued and saw him hold back a moan. “You stop it right now and we’ll be able to have fun after the movie or we won’t fuck for the rest of the month.” You knew he was bluffing, last time you tried to get it on during one your guys’ movie he tries to not touch you for a whole month and failed when he caved in and started to eat you out when he came home from a trip.

“But please sir”, you knew what calling him did that. Still, radio silence from him for the rest of the movie.

———————————————————————

The movie ended, and you still continued dirty talking with Chris, he’s just glare at you and roughly grab your then hard cock.

Now in the elevator your kissing his neck and still being a tease. Once you reached your floor Chris grabbed you and races towards you twos shared room and slammed the door shut leaving a do not disturb sign.

“If you insist on using that mouth, I suggest we put it to better use”, he says ripping off his clothes and leaving himself in his boxers with a very clear bulge. He lays down on the bed with his arms behind his back and watches you with lust filled eyes as you strip naked.

“C’mon and suck me off”, he says with a dominance in his voices that makes you weak at the knees. Crawling towards him you each his crotch and pull down the boxers and his rock hard cock bounces as it leaks precum.

“All for you baby, now get to sucking”, not needing to be told twice, you dive onto it and hear how his moans fill the room as her runs his fingers through your hair. “That’s it, oh fuck baby, always so good”, he grabs your head on makes you bob up and down as wet noises amd your gags are like music to his ears. Looking up you see he has a smirk on his face, ‘worth it’ you think.

He pulls you off and pulls you in for a deep kiss as his tongue goes into your mouth and you both moan as he gets rougher with the kiss. He pulls back and reaches over to the floor and grabs his tie and belt, “I hope you know what’s coming baby”, your cock twitches knowing what’s coming.

A few weeks ago both you and Chris found out you had a thing for being hand bound and being blindfolded, it was after a few kink tests that you tried it out and that amped up the sexual energy between the two of you.

He kiss you and stroke your idk slightly before putting his tie over your eyes and your hands behind your back and feeling the leather against your wrists as he keeps them together.

Seating you in his lap, Chris reaches from behind and starts stroking you using your precum as lube. “Feel good baby?”, he kisses your cheek and rubs you nipples as you let out tiny whines, “F-feels so fucking g-good sir”. He lets out a chuckle, “That’s what I like to hear baby, but c’mon no need to be quiet, let out those moans baby”, he grips your cock tightly as you let a high pitched moan.

A few minutes of this and you’re reaching your limit, “S-sir i wanna cum”, the grogginess in your voice makes Chris hard as he knows he’s the reason for the pleasure, Chris immediately removed his hand from your cock and only glides his hands across your nipples. A loud whine filled the room as you complain about the loss of his hand, “Aww it’s ok baby, c’mon, wanna taste how good you get?”, Chris places a finger in your mouth as it’s covered in your precum and he watches you suck on his fingers.

A few minutes of sucking his fingers he gets back to your cock and you buck your hips as he’s faster with his strokes, “I’m gonna make this last hours baby boy, hearing your whines is absolute bliss to me”, he kisses you as takes his off your cock and feel it pulse as he places his palm under it.

He kept his word. You didn’t know what time it was and you didn’t care as you were in Chris’ arms and he was stroking you. “I suppose you’d like your blindfold taken off now? Too bad”, you whine as he once again removed his hand from your cock, “P-please s-sir, w-wanna c-cum”, your voice filled with desperation. “God I love it when you beg”, he kiss your cheek and rubs your nipples as you let out a moan feeling as his cum covered cock glides in and out your hole.

You don’t know how long ago but he entered you and that made it much harder for you to keep it in. You felt him hit your prostate and felt him cum more times than you could count inside you.

“Ok baby, you’ve been such a good boy for me. You deserve a reward”, he entered your hole once again and rock hard, his hand reaching down to your slick cock and started stroking you in rhythm to his thrusts. “Gonna cum” , you breathe out as he leaves hickeys on the back of your neck, “Me too baby, cum with me”. You yell out a huge load as you’re yelling out in pleasure and Chris lets out a moan as he fills your insides again.

Falling back on Chris chest he take soft the belt and tie. “Felt good baby?”, you and and he smiles kissing you, “stay hear and I’ll clean you up”. He gets up and goes to the bathroom and brings a wet towel to clean off your body as much of the load lanes on you, Chris kissing you as he cleans you up. Laying you on your side he cleans your hole and gives it a light pat.

He gets in bed still naked and pulls the covers over the both of you and holds you close in his arms with your faces in his neck and his arms wrapped around your back and head. “I love you M/N”, he kisses your hair. “I love you too Chris”, the two of you fall asleep listening to muffled sounds of the city.

[tteokdoroki]

all the love in the world | k.bakugou.

⇝ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

⇝ word count: 5.1K

⇝ rating: 18+, mature.

⇝ genre: pro hero!au, engaged!au, fluff and smut.

⇝ summary: as hard to believe as it may seem, bakugou lives for time off, where the days begin with him waking up by your side and  end with him falling asleep right next to you, while he thinks of all the ways he can love you during the hours in between.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! fluffy domestic bakugou ( i think this needed a warning okay? ), smut ( characters aged up to 20s ), soft morning sex, fingering ( female recieving ), dry humping, light!praise, heavy!breeding kink, switch!reader, dom!bakugou.

⇝ author’s note(s): hellooo my loves ! as a celebration of me reaching 100+ followers, i bring you my very first written imagine !! i love the idea of domestic baku so i hope you enoy reading as i did writing !! special thanks to @ozzy-bozzy​ for the teddy bear bracelets idea hehe

⇝ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou considered himself to be a very lucky person.

when he was younger he’d been blessed by a powerful quirk which only lead him to exceed his classmates back in U.A. he’d graduated said school’s hero course top of his class, even if he’d failed his provisionals the first time round— nothing could stop him from becoming the best.

so when the hot headed blonde bagged the role of side kick at a top hero agency and then launched himself to the highest points in the hero charts as a pro later on, katsuki felt like all of his dreams had come true.

that was until, he’d proposed to you.

you were katsuki’s final dream, for him to wait for you at the end of the aisle— your watery smile just for him. 

that’s the vision he saw in his sleep. when you had said yes to him, the night you got engaged under the stars and amongst the roses, it was then that the explosive hero had realised how lucky he truly was.

he had loved you for a long time, katsuki had— he almost couldn’t remember the time when he hadn’t. in the time that you’d spent together; soft gazes and lingering touches, you’d taught him a lot and he’d learned through your tolerance and generosity, something that had rubbed off on him, something he’d so desperately needed to cool down his hot demeanour.

he was grateful for a lot of things, all of the things you’d taught him— but mostly the entirety of you. while you’d always said that neither of you completed each other and only made one another better, bakugou knew that his life would be complete with you in it forever.

 he knew  from the moment you’d pinned him down underneath you during training back in high school— that he was going to make you his wife someday.

“jesus katsu, why’re you up s’early? it’s supposed to be our day off,” you mumble into your silk sheets; his scent sewn into your pillows. katsuki likes the orange silk that lines your bed; mostly because of the colour and partly because other fabrics irritate his skin. with sleepy eyes, you blink up at the blonde and catch him staring mid act. like always, bakugou looks away with a heated blush and paws it away from his cheeks. “whatcha lookin’ at dummy?”

one of kastuki’s favourite things is the way you look when you first wake up, groggily rubbing the sleep away from your eyes with a pout on your lips as the sun hits your face just right— creating a halo effect around you, like you’re his guardian angel…but he wouldn’t ever admit that to you, at least not until his wedding vows. “it’s the only time i get to look at you without hearin’ the dumb shit that comes out your mouth, woman.” katsuki grumbles back, finally meeting your eyes again.  

he can clearly see the love glittering your irises and the faint smile that plays teasingly on your lips as if you know that he’s joking. unwillingly; bakugou feels himself mirror the grin that you bare and a happy warmth then spreads across his chest.

“we still have the whole day ahead for you to ogle me like that katsuki bakugou,” you hum sweetly, the tail end of your words falling into a light giggle. the ash blonde feels his heart flutter just from the sound; a candied melody to his ears that he could never get tired of hearing. 

reaching over your shoulder, katsuki uses his warm hands to roll you over onto his awaiting lap. 

your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as the sheets fall from your body to reveal yourself in one of his shirts with an old merch design and your fingers weave their way into his pretty blonde hair. 

now that you’re in his lap; the pro hero can see the smirk making its way into your face as you look down at him lovingly. “seems like you were doing more than just looking baby…”

your hips grind down against your lover’s now prominent erection that sits hidden in his dark sweats— earning a slight gasp from the man himself. “s-shut up, dumbass…” bakugou growls through gritted teeth while you move above him. 

his words stay lodged in his throat, he wants to tell you that you’re always on his mind no matter what he’s doing or looking at but instead they die down as he drops his head to your neck, leaving sweet kisses along the column of it.

early morning love making with you was what katsuki bakugou considered one of his many blessings. he loves being this close to you— feeling every dip in your skin and kissing every mark on your body, his lips work their way up from your jawline to your chin and finally attempting to land a solid kiss to your own lips.

“nuh, katsu—“ your breathless whine fills the air, sending shivers down the spine of the man below you. he moves up to kiss you again, gripping your hips tightly while your movements begin to sync. “no, morning…morning breath…”

bakugou huffs, hand finding the back of your head to tilt it down into a soft liplock— contrasting with the harshness of his earlier movements. “fuck morning breath, i haven’t made love to you properly in a fucking week so let me kiss you. fuck.” usually, katsuki would have added his salty pet name of ‘shitty woman’ to the tail end of his phrases but he bites his tongue, saving it for later.

you give into your fiancé then, falling in love with the way his lips meld against yours so passionately all over again. fingers that belong to bakugou dance underneath your shirt, finding you bare within the fabric. one hand slips between your plush thighs, smoothly rubbing circles into your swelling clit ever so gently.

your breath hitches as katsuki traps you under his touch, playing with your folds as they begin to grow slick and form a wet patch on his deep grey sweats, making him groan. 

the explosive pro pushes two of his digits past your entrance, curling them and watching with sparkling scarlet eyes as your mouth hangs open in of the prettiest moans katsuki’s ever heard— his mouth falls open with you while your head tilts back, exposing your sweat glimmering skin to the sun’s rays. “feel good baby? yeah, you like that?” he mumbles condescendingly, slowly pumping them inside of you. “yeah you do,  yeah you fuckin’ do.”

“yeah, katsu...more…” a  breathless moan escapes you with every thrust of bakugou’s hot fingers, the cheeky bastard setting off small scale explosions to stimulate you from within. he’s hot, the heat from his body filling the space between you and spreading right down to your glistening mound— causing slick to gush from your tiny abused hole. 

you can feel his cock pulse beneath you with every twist of his fingers to reach that spongy pleasure spot deep within your leaking hot walls.

katsuki’s thick fingers stretch open your tiny hole, making your mouth water at the thought of his weighty cock being the next thing press into you but your raging thoughts are swiftly interrupted by your fiancé— who pulls from you completely and sucks the two fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of your sweet nectar.

katsuki keeps his vermillion eyes locked on you, the lewd action making saliva pool on your tongue. his own pink muscle darts out to wet his lips, no doubt spreading the taste of you across them before making a move to kiss you. 

the pro is quickly stopped, your hands that once roamed his bare back and messed hair, now pinning his own above his head.

bakugou is a strong man, he wouldn’t have been a top hero if he wasn’t— he trained constantly and sparred often with his fellow heroes but he doesn’t resist when you grip his wrists in your free hand, releasing his hard cock from it’s restraints before it slaps against his well toned stomach.

milky precum leaks against his warm skin, while you prepare yourself to mount him. the pair of you let out a groan in unison as you sink down on the hero’s thick length— as if the tensions and stresses of the week have melted away just him being sheathed inside of you.

“mnnn, so fuckin’ tight baby, gonna need to fuck you open again…”

bakugou’s voice is low and gravelly from the early morning, just how you like as his hips roll up into yours— further pushing his fat cock into you. his tip barely grazes your cervix  as you set the pace, lifting yourself up and down to bounce on your lover’s length. 

the way you feel inside, your soft velvety walls and gushing pussy make him buck up into you with more fever, as his own symphony of moans and weightless gasps dance through your ears. “yeah? take this pussy katsuki…m-make it yours,” you sigh, grip on his wrists loosening to the point where you set him free.  the blonde’s hands immediately move to grip your ass tightly— smirking at you lazily while the pads of his fingers sink into your flesh.

you look beautiful to him, bouncing on his cock and dripping all over his pelvis under the early morning sun, the way the gold lights up your hazy lust filled eyes.  

the fire of desire burns brightly in the depths of katsuki’s stomach, love finds its way into each of his thrusts from then on— mind clouding with the desire to fill you up so good with his love as the leaking  head of his thick girth drags against your walls, prodding at the spot that has you seeing stars. “that’s right yn baby…fuck that cock, fuck yeah baby,” he whispers brokenly to you, chest rising and falling desperately while sweat beads on his hairline. “love you, love you s’much...”

bakugou watches your gaze on him soften at his confession, the words he doesn’t say often but shows you everyday still hanging in the thick, warm air.  “i love you katsu, p-please,” your erratic thrusts slow to somewhat of a passionate grind, two lovers pressed hotly against one another as the sounds of your moans twist with that of skin on skin.

knot in your stomach tightening, katsuki can feel your release creeping on you from the way you clench around him at every plunge deep inside your sweet hole. strong arms wrap around you, katsuki noticing how you shake from pleasure above him while he brings you down onto loving thrusts as if to draw you closer. 

“gonna cum!”

your fiancé nods into your neck, rubbing smooth circles over your back as he pulls out of your heat completely and earns a needy whine from you. your hole spasms around nothing, right on the edge of release before bakugou forces his girth back into your accepting pushing. “cum for me angel, right on this cock,” he pants, holding you close while he rocks into you. “i've got you baby, let it all out…”

“mph, baku-! oh !”

hips stilling above his, you scratch and claw at any part of bakugou’s skin that you can— shaking as your release splashes against him, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head and white spots dancing across your vision. the tightness of your heat drives the pro right over the edge, hot ropes of thick cum painting your insides white as his release reaches your womb.

the pair of you lay still, catching your breath as you collapse forward on your lover’s chest. while your breathing slows, katsuki rubs warming circles into your back to help calm you down— only smiling softly when you look up at him with clear, affectionate eyes. “did so good for me yn, fuckin’ love it when you take my cock like that first thing in the morning,” his words are soft on his usually sharp tongue, bakugou smoothing a thumb over your cheek while using a forefinger to tilt your head up into a sweet kiss

“always and only for you, my love,” you hum, eyes fluttering shut at the simple gesture even after you pull away. “and if you keep cummin’ in me like that katsuki ‘m gonna end up pregnant one of these days…”

bakugou smirks, pressing smaller kisses all over your face to make you giggle. you smile and greedily accept each one, loving the these tender moments between yourself and your fiancé.  “maybe that’s the fucking point, dumbass,”  he quips, biting on your cheek after landing a kiss there. “trying to put a shitty little brat in you.”

despite the small bite to his words, a blush still manages to creep its way onto katsuki’s face as you lay your head down on his chest with a smack to his waist. the ash blonde means every word and you know it too, he can tell by the knowing smile and slight gleam in your eye.

you fall back asleep not long after bakugou cleans you up.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy counting every mark and bite he’d left on you as he tenderly wiped between your thighs and massaged over your skin. 

but he loved how cute you looked when curled up on his chest more, your hand clings to bakugou’s shoulder as if to check he’s still there even in your sleep— giving the hero ample opportunity to play with the ‘teddy bear’ bracelet thats cuffed to your wrist. you’d made it for one of your anniversaries; matching the ‘grizzly bear’ one on his own.

prying himself from your arms is no easy task for katsuki, your grip on him like an adorable iron vice or a child with a teddy bear. after setting himself free, the ash blonde with the crimson eyes heads down to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of you— it was some what of a routine on your days off together, you always got the munchies after sex and bakugou knew just how to soothe your roaring appetite.

as he worked with the eggs and other breakfast ingredients, katsuki thought back to how much you praised him for his skills in the kitchen— he knew how much you loved his cooking and he would do anything to see you smile.

“god katsuki, i might have to start taking more days off it means i get to see my grizzly bear in the kitchen like this,” you hum from place leaning against the door frame. 

your fiancé turns round to face you with a light smirk, glimmering eyes inviting you further into the room. the explosive pro holds the sizzling pan he’d taken off the stove high above your head as you cuddle into his side, breathing in his warm caramel scent.

katsuki clicks his tongue, staring down at you fondly. “tell that to the fucking villains who fuck up the city every other day, maybe then we’d have more time to relax.” he counters, pulling a sweet chuckle from your sweet lips.

“if we start handing out your cooking, they’ll probably start turning themselves in!” you tease your lover back, swiping a bit of the pancakes from the pan above your head. katsuki grumbles and pats your ass indulgently— the supple skin peaking out from under the shirt that’s found it’s way back over your form. it’s a silent scold for eating before he’s fixed you a plate of all your favourites.

as usual bakugou pulls out your chair at the table, pressing his lips to your hairline before putting your steaming plate in front of you. your mouth waters while katsuki takes his seat opposite you with rolling eyes as he watches you tuck in to your breakfast. 

the entirety of your meal is filled with lingering gazes and hums of delight while you eat, almost as if you’re back on your first date ( bakugou spent half of the time watching you eat rather than doing so himself, but he just wanted to see if you liked the place ). 

leaning over the table to wipe syrup from your chin, the blonde smirks— quiet words falling calmly from his lips. “what do you want to do today, sweetheart?”

the birds chirps lovingly outside of your window, dancing under the sunshine— they remind you of your early mentor and often patrol partner hawks, who you needed to remember to invite to dinner soon. 

the weather is nice today and that gives you an idea. “let’s go out,” your eyes sparkle with a million dreams, each one bakugou wants to live out with you. “to the park with the roses, the pink ones where you—“

“where i proposed, got it,” katsuki smiles, the fond memory catching the tail end of his words. “i hear they introduced some new blooms too.”

you mirror his expression; stabbing your fork through a strawberry in the bowl of fresh fruit your lover had prepared for you. you hold the fork out to his lips and watch amusedly as he chomps the fruit from its place. “care to escort me, lover bear?”

“who else is going to? dumbass.”

“miss nightsky ! will ya sign my bag!”

“that’s a nice bag sweet one, you sure i can sign it?”

katsuki loves the way you are with kids, even though you’re a massive child yourself.

the pair of you decided to walk to the park; since the nice weather held up and it wasn’t too far from your private neighbourhood— even though it took a little longer to get there than expected. 

not that either of you minded, but many curious fans stopped to talk and ask for pictures; some even asked for autographs which you happily gave them. while the mighty ground zero was slightly grumbly about it, he adored how kind and patient you were with everyone you met no matter how old they were.

his vermillion eyes, though brownish looking under golden light, sparkle as you ruffle the little kid’s hair and wave politely to their awaiting parents. bakugou wants to have kids with you one day. 

it was something he hadn’t really thought about until recently, he knew it would be difficult, with both of you reaching the heights of your careers and the pair of you were still very private about your relationship as well, with word of your recent engagement already slipping into the tabloids.

there was no doubt that they’d speculate about your marriage too, no matter how private you kept it. keeping a child secret would be even harder. 

and yet; the thought of you holding a baby…his baby would, on some nights lull him to sleep.

you squeal like a little girl when the ash blonde stops to buy you an ice cream from a van by the entrance of the park; he can’t stand how much you love mint chocolate chip but buys you a towering double scoop anyways.  “how do you even eat that toothpastey shit?” bakugou grumbles, finishing off his orange popsicle as you walk into the flower garden.

“says the one who likes orange, you have no taste katsuki bakugou.” you chide but take his freehand nonetheless. the explosive pro’s thumb brushes over the back of your hand while you make your way through and he can’t help but pluck one of the pretty blooms from the bushes to tuck behind your ear.

you scold him for taking the flowers but your smile betrays you as katsuki dips you for a honeyed kiss on the lips. 

he’s never one for PDA but this was your spot, here just last year bakugou had sunk to his knees in front of you with an expensive diamond ring you were eyeing months before ( you would never say anything but katsuki always picked up on these things ). 

he would also never admit it, but his hand shook with every word that passed his lips and you were sure he had been crying harder than you were while he slipped a ring on your finger.

your secret kisses and tangled limbs hiding deep in the rose bushes are soon completely soaked by an onslaught of unexpected rain.

you shriek at the rain while katsuki grabs your hand, free arms thrown over your heads as you make a dash from the flower garden and head for the main streets in order to catch a bus.

the pair of you giggle as you stumble onto the vehicle, ringing out your drenched clothes and wiping at your wet faces as it heads home. bakugou pulls you into his arms, head resting atop yours to draw you closer— the heat from his quirk allows him to keep you warm and you get a load full of his sugary scent as well ( not that you mind ).

you stay like that on through the rustling traffic, cuddling like a cat to your heated fiancé but a tug on the bottom of bakugou’s wet shirt captures your attention. the pair of you look down to catch the innocent eyes belonging to a darling little girl. “u-uh h-hi mister gwound zewo!” the little one stumbles through her words and in the corner of your eyes you can spot the girl’s mother and give her a reassuring grin.

bakugou’s gaze softens at the curly haired girl and releases you to crouch down to her level despite the shaking bus.  his hand still holds onto yours though. 

he ruffles her hair with his free hand, making your heart warm— there was a side of katsuki the public never really got to see, where the hotheaded pro could be tender and quiet and often quite reserved. 

the media got a kick out of playing on the ash blonde’s explosive nature but moments like this let the real bakugou shine through.

“hey there kiddo, whatcha’ got there?” katsuki mumbles delicatley, noticing the girl hiding something behind her back.

“tisswue! for my favouwite hewo!” the little one says, gingerly holding it out to the blonde’s wet face for him to use. bakugou taps his cheek and cleans closer to let the little girl wipe his face with a tiny chubby hand. they chatter for the rest of the ride home— the girl bashfully twirling her hair around her fingers as katsuki compliments her quirk.

leaning your head on katsuki’s soused shoulder while you walk home, you look up at him with an adoring expression, wondering what he’d be like with a little girl of your own. “that was quiet adorable mister ground zero, you stole my hear away!” you tease, kissing your linked hands.

“yeah? well don’t get used to it shitty woman.” he says through gritted teeth and marches you both through the rain to get you home but the blush on his face tells you otherwise. if you ever had a daughter, you could only imagine what he’d be like with her.

katsuki heads straight for the shower when you get in, leaving you to pick a movie and order takeout as you’d discussed on the way home.

it was a regular routine for you both on nights off; you always picked the movie because if you left it up to your fiancé you’d end up watching some boring documentary on all might or cooking ( he was a closeted nerd at heart ). 

you settle on a cheesy romcom that you’ve seen about a hundred times because for one;  it’s your favourite and two, you’ll never get tired of seeing bakugou cry towards the end of the movie.

“take out should be here in twenty!” you call to your lover, when he passes by you to enter your living room.

“got it, now go wash up before you catch a cold, stupid—“ the ends of katsuki’s words are cut off by your stream of giggles, bouncing off your cream coloured walls. your ash blonde fiancé has half a mind to curse you out for slapping his ass through his fresh set of sweat pants but rolls his eyes nonetheless. 

he finishes pulling his tank top over his head while heading deeper into the room, not wanting to answer the door without one ( as much as your regular delivery driver would like that ).

while in the shower, you manage to scrub away stains of the rain and soreness from the day— washing over sweet love marks from katsuki with pride. a temporary reminder of his eternal love for you and you only. 

there’s already a change of clothes waiting for you when you step out of the shower; one of his old shirts and a set of boxers that you slip into comfortably. your nostrils are filled with nothing but the alluring scent of burning sugar, the traces left by bakugou himself.

he’s already munching on a box of tempura by the time you’ve headed back downstairs, crimson eyes light up when they land on you and you make a dive for the couch— rolling into katsuki’s side. “did you tip the delivery driver?” you ask, watching as your fiancé dips a piece of the food into some sauce before he holds it up to your lips.

“damn right i did, i didn’t wanna though…they kept staring at my arms,” bakugou revels in the way you laugh around the piece of food he pushes into your mouth. you chew with a grateful smile, the look of amusement never leaving your pretty face. “whatcha laughin’ at dumbass?”

“i think you forget how much the public loves your arms, ground zero.”

as soon as you press play on the movie, time seems to fly away from you both— the air is filled with streams of laughter and moments where you swipe from one another’s plates, picking on one another fondly. somehow by the time the film reaches it’s climax the food has been devoured and you’ve ended up huddling into bakugou’s chest. 

fingers laced with yours, bakugou twirls the diamond engagement ring you have on, around your finger, smiling at the precious reminder that you’re to be his forever and always.  “where do you think we’ll be in the future?” you question quietly, nuzzling into your fiancé’s side.

“married, of course.” crimson eyes find yours in the dimly lit room, almost rolling annoyance as if your question is the dumbest thing in the world. in response, you lean up and squish the explosive pro’s cheeks together and beam up at him while he scowls at you.

“stupid, you know that’s not what i meant,” the words despite harsh, leave your lips dreamily and a contented expression crosses your face. “i see us with kids, in a house much bigger than this one and a backyard that stretches for miles and miles—“ your words die warmly in your throat, figuring that you’ve gotten slightly carried away with the fanticies you’ve made for yourself and katsuki. 

in your mind, you can’t help but conjour up a litter of tiny bakugou’s running around a plush green garden— maybe a little dog too and your heart swells in your chest at the idea.

the hot head squeezes your hand, resurfacing you from your sea of thoughts. “you want kids? with me?” his voice is barely above a whisper, all of his vulnerabilities splayed out in the tone as he looks at you warmly.

“a whole family with you, as many as you want.”

suddenly, bakugou has you flipped onto your back and pinned underneath his muscular frame. 

his warm breath fans across your face making your eyes fall heavy with adoration. “four.” the blonde grunts, swooping down to brush his lips gently across yours, not quite kissing you much to your dismay. “i want four of those snotty little gremlins with you, maybe have the fifth by accident and then we’ll get a big fucking house for them to destroy—“

“f-five kids katsu?” you gasp out your words at katsuki starts to press increasingly harsh kisses to your jawline, settling on your neck while he licks over bites he’d left earlier today. 

bakugou murmurs something about ‘you said as many as i want’ before he’s growling at your hands that find their way into his blonde locks, tugging on them tightly as pleasure overwhelms your senses. 

he hums against your sweet skin, finding his place between your legs at the same time as his thoughts take him away from you. he’d love to see you pregnant, so full of his love and his children.

the movie is long forgotten by now as lust settles in every corner of the room. hands push beneath your shirt, groping and massaging your breasts to pull all sorts of sounds from you. 

bakugou forces a knee between your thighs, finally capturing your lips in a hungry and heated kiss— his tongue slips in your mouth after he pinches your thigh, fighting yours in a passionate dance for dominance. “gonna fuck a shitty little brat into you, yn,” katsuki almost whines as he pulls away from your inviting lips to press your foreheads together. you look gorgeous beneath him, flustered with swollen lips from each of your rough kisses and there’s no doubt in his mind you’re thinking the same about him. “gonna fill you up so good, gonna make pretty babies with you, hah?”

“ka-katsuki!” you can’t help but mewl at his breathless sinful words while you fist at his tank top. everything is hot, burning hot and you grind up into him with a newfound desperation, the friction against his hardening length sending your eyes rolling with ecstasy.. “we’re not even— mmm god, right there— we’re not even married yet!”

“gonna be at some point, why waste time fucking trying? not when i can cum in you and give you one right fucking now—“  bakugou moans heavily into your ear, diving back into a sloppy kiss as he fumbles around with the string of his sweatpants. 

you’re whimpering out for him, pulling the blonde into a lustful trance while you make a move to kick off your underwear when the sound of shattering glass pierces through the bubble of horniness you’ve both created. “shit.”

you both freeze and your matching gazes drop to the floor; a rapidly growing stain of red wine spilling onto the carpet under the coffee table your take out was on. 

the fluffy white rug had been a housewarming gift that katsuki begrudgingly accepted from your old school friend and fellow pro, izuku midoriya— so the sight of the now ruined rug makes you both burst out into harmonious laughter. you’re sure the number one wouldn’t mind. it’d make a great wedding story too.

you focus your eyes back on katsuki, cupping his face as that same love filled smile from earlier returns to your face. ”let’s start trying tomorrow, then?”

“tomorrow it is.” bakugou grins back, dotting your hairline with sweet pecks before cuddling into you.

baby making can wait for now, he supposes, for with another day off— he has all the time and all the love in the world to give to you.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Mission Shenanigans

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings | smut, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Word count | 2385

Summary | while on a mission undercover, you and Bucky are forced to share a bed. Very dirty things ensue

Masterlist

"If we're just pretending to be a couple, why do we have to actually sleep in the same bed? Do you really think they're going to break in and catch on of us sleeping on the sofa?" You scoffed, hands perched on your hips and as shook your head at the super soldier in front of you.

"Maybe." Bucky smirked, his answer short but almost full of a lingering promise of more. You rolled your eyes at him, itching to slap that cocky smirk off his face and also maybe accidentally let his cock slip into your mouth whilst doing so. Oops.

You couldn't help it, really. I mean, Bucky is gorgeous. He truly is a specimen, all muscles and cocky smirks and metal arms. Oh and the metal arm? You were dying to know how the metal felt against your skin, against your lips - your lower lips-

"You there doll?" You were grabbed from your little train of thoughts (sinful thoughts at that) by the man in front of you snapping his fingers in your face.

"S-sorry. Lost in thought. What were you saying?" You stuttered, cheeks flushing pink as you averted your gaze to a vase on the table that suddenly became awfully captivating.

"I said that we should go out and get some wood for the fire before it gets dark." Bucky drawled, rolling his eyes now when you hummed in agreement whilst nodding absent-mindedly.

You were on a mission to get some info on a potential lead on a rising HYDRA group in southern France. You were in a cabin like area near some forest that almost seemed out of place, posing as a young couple that was newly wed and wanted a honey moon abroad. So far you pulled off the part perfectly, playing the most stereotypically-American tourists in Europe you could be. You got overly excited at the smallest things, told everyone you spoke to that you adored their accent, insisted on eating at French restaurants only, and local ones of course.

It was the perfect ploy - the only downfall being Bucky's metal arm causing him to stick out like a sore-thumb. So the super soldier has been miserable in public, roasting in the summer sun whilst clad in leather gloves and long-sleeve shirts.

What you had failed to mention to him that the sight of droplets of sweat collecting along his brow and sliding slowly down his neck got you all hot and bothered. So hot and bothered, in fact, that you found yourself desperate to stick your hand between your legs to quell the growing ache blossoming there.

But you couldn't because Bucky was insisting that you both share a bed. Originally, you had just planned on taking the sofa in the other room and get yourself off but that plans obviously gone out the window.

"Right, well. We should go now." Bucky said, cutting through the awkward silence that had settled comfortably between you two. He grabbed your arm, tugging you out the small cabin and towards the woods.

So, three hours later, you found yourself full of food, groaning with the amount to had consumed. Chewing your last bite, you set your cutlery down on you plate, which was almost immediately swiped by Bucky.

"With cooking like that, you've just become my most dangerous friend, Barnes." You chided, a smile finding your face when he chuckled softly, the edges of his eyes crinkling adorably. He set your plate with his in the sink, turning on the water and drizzling some dish soap into the basin. He sipped his hands quickly on a towel before discarding it on the work surface and turning to face you.

"Well, I'm glad you liked it, doll." He smiled, arms crossing over his chest. With the hot summer heat, he'd changed into a tank top almost the second you entered the cabin, so his bulging bicep was on display as well as that metal arm that you adored. His hair was thrown into a bun at the back of his head, a few framing pieces fallen out around his face and it made him look beautiful.

"I'm gonna go shower whilst you clean up." You suddenly announced, pushing up from your chair and bursting from the room. You walked swiftly down the hall, into the bedroom to grab a towel before you were entering the adjoining bathroom.

You moaned as the warm water soothed your aching muscles, the steam clouding up the bathroom as you hummed the song that'd been stuck in your head for god knows how long. Taking a deep sigh, you massaged the shampoo into your hair, the feeling of your nails scraping against your scalp a welcome one.

After washing the suds from your hair and wiping down your body with a sponge and some lemon scented soap, you shut the water off and pulled back the curtain of the shower. Careful not to trip as you stepped out of the tub, you grabbed the fluffy white towel sat waiting for you on the counter and patted your hair until it was only damp, before drying off your body. You wrapped the cloth around you, holding it up just above your breast, clutching it there so I didn't fall down as you tiptoed back into the bedroom.

The door whined is I opened, the handle banging against the wall as you crept into the room.

"Hey, doll." Bucky smirked, lounging on the bed and resting in his palms. Your eyes bugged out of your skull, you jumped slightly, the shock of seeing him there shirtless and with sweatpants handing loose over his hips caused your grip on the towel to stop long enough for it to fall. Bucky smoothed his tongue of his lip, biting down on it as his eyes roamed your body.

You were still in shock, not moving from where you stood, towel bundled at your feet and arms awkwardly by your sides. Bucky whistled, slowly standing and taking a few strides so he was stood in front of you.

"You look even better than I thought you would." He mumbled, licking his lips again before his hands found purchase on your hips. His eyes were searching you, blue edges fading as black lust petered out from his pupils. Your breathing was heavy, mind foggy but all you could comprehend was the half-naked super soldier stood in front of your naked form, hands - one comfortingly warm one chillingly cold - resting on the bare skin of your hips.

And I just made you needy and slick with want. And that had to be the cause of the words that found themselves upon your lips. Your eyes flickered between his and his lips - his soft, plump pink lips - that were just begging you to kiss them.

"If you don't kiss me in the next three second I'm going to scream." You murmured and he breathed a laugh through his nose before his lips crashed to yours in a lustful, earth-shattering kiss. Bucky's hands travelled over your sides, squeezing your waist before going higher until one wrapped around your neck possessively, using the grip he had to walk you back until your back came into contact with the door you had entered from, his metal hand bracing against the wood for support.

Your moan let him know it was exactly what you wanted and Bucky tightened his grip slightly on your neck, a gentle squeeze to test the waters that had you groaning against his lips. He tilted his head to the side, feeling the kiss even further. It was a dirty, messy, sloppy thing - all teeth and tongue and unadulterated desire. When his lips finally left yours, they trailed down your neck, leaving open-mouthed, wet kisses over your throat and your collar bone. A hand found it's way between your quaking legs, finding nothing by slick and slippery skin as the tips brushed through the collecting wetness at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the feeling, letting his digits dance through the liquid before one was slipping into your quivering hole.

"Bucky!" You gasped, hands reaching up, grabbing and clawing at his shoulders for purchase as his thumb connected with your little bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked violently into his hand, a low and rumbling chuckle falling from those perfect, pink lips. Another finger entered you, both of them curling - curling just right, hitting that spot deep within you.

You came with a  cry and shaky legs, your body falling limply into Bucky's as he retracted his fingers, revelling in the wanton look in your eyes as he licked them clean.

"Delicious." He hummed, pulling off his fingers with a pop. Before you could protest, the brunet had scooped you into his arms, hoisting up up with his hands under your ass - groping and squeezing as he pinned you to the wall with his hips. Your arms were wrapped around his neck by now, fingers tangling into his long, brown hair as his lips never left your skin.

"Fuck, Bucky, please." You begged, but you weren't really sure what you were asking for.

"You want me to fuck you?" He whispered in your ear, a moan slipping past your lips. "You want me to fuck you in the middle of a mission like a whore?" He husked and you moaned even louder - knowing the word should offend you but it did anything but, the combined sensation of his hot breath fanning over your cheeks, his prominent bulge pressed to your folds and his hands resting on your bare sides overwhelming your senses. His hands moved down, fumbling with the drawstring on his sweats before he was pulling away slightly, pushing them and his boxers down his legs eagerly. You brought a hand down too, letting your fingers trail over his abs before you were marvelling at his cock - hard and leaking, red tip curved up against his stomach - which was now smeared with Previn that you were desperate to lick off. But he wouldn't let you from his grasp.

Instead, you both let out a moan when your small hand wrapped around Bucky's cock, Bucky shivering slightly at the coldness of you palm. He kissed you again hard, tongue smoothing over your lips before it was pushing its way into your mouth, tangling with yours and stroking over the muscle in languid strokes. You fisted his hair, relishing in the groan he let out as you tugged. You smiled into the kiss at his reaction, but pulled away to squeal his thumb flitted over your clit again.

Bucky moaned when his tip ran through your wetness, hand wrapping around his length as he lined himself up with your core. Bucky leant in, pecking your lips.

"Ready?" He mumbled and you moaned his name, letting out a loud moan when he sheathed himself inside of you in one sharp thrust.

"Fuck, Bucky!" You moaned and he let his thumb rest on your clit, teasing circles rubbed over it making the knot in your stomach forms already, blue eyes now turned black as he looked into yours.

"I want you to come around my cock, pretty girl" He murmured, forehead resting against your as he begun to thrust. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin only spurring Bucky on as his pace became slow but strong, knocking the air out of your lungs with every thrust. His breath was hot on your cheeks, eyes keeping yours prisoner and a small layer of sweat coated your faces.

The whole scene was erotic, so it only pushed your further to the edge when he began moaning and groaning, your own sounds vibrating around the room. Your fingers traced over the scars littering his shoulder, before clinging to the cool metal and moaning out at the contrast against your flushed and hot skin.

"Good girl." He moaned, the praise sending a new wave of wetness tumbling down to your core, his cock pushing in and out of you effortlessly now with how much lubrication you were supplying. Bucky's hand moved from the door, fingers wrapping a round your throat again and pushing your head back against the wood.

"This pussy's gonna make me cum so hard, sweetheart, so fuckin' hard." He mumbled into the skin of your neck, dropping his head to nip and suck at your jaw line. You knew there'd be marks there tomorrow, but you couldn't care less in that moment as your walls began to clamp down on his in a vice grip.

"C'mon, cum for me. I can feel how close you are." Bucky moaned and your mouth dropped open into a silent scream, eyes rolling back into your skull, his pace picking up as he tried to push you to your release.

When you came it was a mind-shattering orgasm, eyes rolling back and hips bucking, stomach tight and legs shaking around his waist.

"There we go, good girl." Bucky groaned, chasing his own release now as he used you for his own pleasure. "Shit, y/n." He moaned, stilling his hips as a final thrust sent him over the edge, cumming in you in hot spurts.

Your breaths mingled, the smell of sex invading your senses as you head dropped forward to lean against Bucky's shoulder.

"Fucking hell, Buck, that was-" you panted.

"Amazing? The best sex of your life?" He supplied, hand massaging your hip as you both calmed down.

"Something like that." You giggled. He chuckled too, and you gasped as he felt him thrust shallowly into you again. How was he already hard again? You figured that the serum must have affected everything. You groaned, and Bucky smirked down at you.

"Ready for round two?" He asked, walking with you in his grasp over to the bed.

"If anyone does break in tonight, they're in for one hell of a show." You smiled weakly, Bucky dropping you into the sheets and crawling over you.

"They sure are, Doll."