#now off to try to make my hawke from memory

[imagineweasley]

Puppy Love: Part II

Sirius Black x Fem reader

summary: you and your friends are fascinated by animagi and one day, decide to take a risk and become one. it proves to be an interesting experience - one day you are wandering the forest when things take a turn and secrets are revealed...

read part 1 here!

y/n: your name

y/h: your house

y/c: your color

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author's note: a valentines' day present to my valentines! here's part 2 of puppy love :) also - THIS ONE GOT SO LONG TOO! this part is a big slow but i had to cut it off somewhere and i'll try to get part 3 out sooner. buckle in!

@hellokitty-girl666

-

Y/n's POV

My task was simple. During Herbology, I'd sneak over to where Professor Sprout kept the mandrakes and sneak three leaves. Somehow, I had to get them without the bloody things screaming at the top of their lungs, so my plan was to find three fresh leaves that they might have already dropped, or else I'd have to go to plan B. I did not want to go to plan B.

We'd scoured Advanced Potion-Making the night before, reading the steps over and over again so that we could commit them to memory. Callie had wanted to write it down but Ellie and I vetoed that idea; if we got caught, one look at the list would reveal what we were doing.

Under the list of items and instructions, there was an extensive list of disclaimers:

DO NOT ATTEMPT UNLESS OVER THE AGE OF 17. DO NOT ATTEMPT UNLESS AT/SUPERVISED BY A WITCH OR WIZARD WITH ADVANCED MASTERY OF POTIONS. IF STEP 3 FAILS, WITCH OR WIZARD MAY HAVE PERMANENT WHISKERS.

We ignored those, especially the whiskers part. The others had their own tasks, of course. Callie would be collecting the dew from somewhere "neither sun nor human feet have touched," and her best guess so far was to go to the Forbidden Forest to collect them. One of us would have to go with her, of course, there was no way we'd let her go in there alone. Ellie on the other hand, would have to get a chrysalis of a death-head's hawk moth. We were stumped because what the hell is that? After some research, we realized we would not be able to obtain it ourselves, and would have to find some underground tactics. I had no idea how she would pull it off, but if anyone could, it was Ellie.

It was the next morning now, and Callie and I were headed to Herbology. "You ready?" Callie whispered to me while we hugged our books to our chests and tramped to the greenhouse.

"Ready." I kept my eyes forward, not wanting to attract attention to us.

When we arrived at the green house, we found a spot on the far end of the green house, where the mandrakes were tucked into a corner to reduce the risk of a clumsy student falling into them and causing a chorus of brain-splitting shrieks. Callie tood right in front of me, stepping on my foot.

"Ow! Callie get off!"

"Sorry!" She whispered, panic creeping into her voice, "I'm just trying to make sure no one sees you!"

"Alright students, gather around!" Madame Pomfrey marched into the greenhouse and motioned for people to come closer, "I hope you all have good reflexes, as today, we'll be studying the Devil's Snare." There were a few "oooh"s as the students gathered around the small cut of the vine and Professor sprout bent over it. I, on the other hand, saw this as the chance to snatch some leaves and backed away from the group as discreetly as possible towards the sleeping mandrakes. I whipped around to the pots for my target, heart thumping. I scanned each pot for what I needed, but it looked like the mandrakes were perfectly in order. Damn. Of course they were in perfect shape, there was no way Sprout would ever let them - hold on. A flash of green caught my eye, tucked behind one of the mandrakes. I leaned carefully over as to not disturb it, and saw two leaves. Bingo!

Very slowly, I reached my fingertips in between the plants and managed to grab the them. I breathed a small sigh of relief, but it wasn't over yet - I still needed one more.

I looked over my shoulder to see if I had been spotted, but all I saw were students' backs and Callie shooting nervous glances back at me. I shot her a look that said Turn! Around! and she huffed but listened. Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to the plants in front of me. I searched in the dirt once more for one, JUST ONE more leaf, but there wasn't any. I even scanned the ground below the table, but no luck. Disappointed, I returned to the group.

"... usually grow so large that they can trap large humans, and they try to trick you with these lovely flowers..." Professor Sprout was holding up the pot to show everyone the budding white flowers. I tried to pay attention but all the possibilities of plan B were reeling endlessly in my brain. In my peripheral I could see Callie shooting me nervous glances but I ignored her and stared as hard as I could at the plant, wishing it could strangle my thoughts.

-

We huddled in the corner of the library for a rundown of our progress.

"Alright girls, how did it go today?" Ellie blew a strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes out of the way. I sighed.

"Only two." I mumbled, and she looked slightly disappointed but seemed to push it aside. "Okay! That's two more than we had this morning!"

"Yeah, but now I'll have to do plan B." I had really been hoping that it would be a one-and-done situation.

"Y/n, you've got this!" Ellie touched my arm encouragingly, "I would help, but I have to go find Jessup Daniels tonight. I've heard whispers that he has a gift for sneaking things into school for people for a price, things that no one should be able to get their hands on except for the most shadowy wizards. No one knows how he gets them, but I figure out of everyone, he'd know where to get those chrysalises."

Callie and I nodded in agreement. "He looks like he'd know how to get things like that." I said under my breath and the girls stifled giggles, earning some very pointed looks from the students around us. "Plus, I know that James Potter has an invisibility cloak on him," Ellie patted her bag indicating she already had it stowed away, "I heard them talking very loudly about it. Those boys aren't so subtle are they?" Ellie rolled her eyes. She had the most contact with those boys than us, being in Gryffindor house too, so it made sense that she had gotten her hands on something like that.

Sirius's face flashed across my mind at hearing James's name. For a second, I saw his dark gray eyes scrunch up with laughter, I felt his fingers against mine. I imagined just what would have happened if I had let my hand linger... what it might have lead to... what else his fingers could do....

"Y/n. Y/n!" I heard Ellie calling me and shook myself back to reality. "Do you need to use the cloak tonight? Maybe we can stagger when we go to do -" I shook my head. "The greenhouse is only a little bit that way and it'll be dark, no one will see me." Ellie nodded in agreement.

Callie surprised us by saying she'd already gotten her hands on her dewdrops. She merely shrugged, saying, "I have a lot of practice in 'borrowing' things and the Potions cabinet is a sitting duck, what can I say?" I nodded, impressed.

My watch caught my eye. 8:30.

"Alright girls," I made a motion to get up, "I should start heading out. It'll be dark and it looks like it's starting to sprinkle out there." Tiny raindrops were dotting the window next to us. Ellie and Callie followed suit and nodded seriously.

"Godspeed." Callie saluted me with mock seriousness.

I saluted her back, then quickly gathered my schoolbag that I had brought with me to stuff the leaf in. My nerves had suddenly turned to excitement - I had never done anything more than getting messy drunk at common room parties, maybe smoking a joint here and there and raiding the kitchen. I had been such a rule-follower my whole life - suddenly, I was excited to get my hands dirty. Hiking my bag higher, I quickly left the library, but maybe I shouldn't have been so fast. I never noticed the gray eyes watching me.

-

Sirius's POV

It hadn't even been a day since my run-in with y/n when I spotted her at the library. She and her friends - I think their names are Calliope and Eleanor? - were in a huddle, whispering furiously. I let my eyes linger on y/n as I made my way over to the only open table behind her armchair.

I plopped my bag down on the table, internally groaning. I never came to the library of course, I have better things to do with my time, but I had gotten into a small scuffle with James in Potions because he wouldn't leave me alone about y/n and gotten myself 10 points from Gryffindor and a foot and a half on the properties of belladonna. Huffing, I yanked out my parchment and quill when the words invisibility cloak and y/n's voice caught my ear.

I could barely hear what she was saying, but if I strained, I could hear her whispering, "The greenhouse... it'll be dark..."

The greenhouse? What could she possibly need to do in the greenhouse? Not only that, but in the dark? From my years of admiring her from afar, I knew that y/n isn't one to be sneaking around after hours. I kept straining my ears to catch more of the conversation without being too obvious, but all I could hear was Callie talking about some potion. Then, they all got up and I ducked my head, mind racing with ideas of what they could possibly be planning. Callie saluted y/n, and y/n started walking out of the library. I ducked behind a shelf to watch her leave, mind still racing about what she could be doing. I returned to my table and Ellie and Callie had gone too.

"What in the bloody hell..." I sat for a moment staring at my empty parchment, trying to focus my mind on this stupid paper, but gave up. I jumped to my feet, stuffed my belongings into my bag, and decided to go back to Gryffindor tower.

There was no way I'd be able to get y/n off my mind.

[tonycries]

Brooklyn Baby - G.S.

Synopsis. Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rock star! AU, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), Suguru is sinfully sexy and in l*ve with you, Satoru is a menace, pet names (darling, my girl), Suguru has tattoos and piercings, swearing.

Word count. 3.2k (DAMN I got carried away)

A/N. Happy Valentine’s day! *throws somewhat-fluffy smut at you and leaves* 

Art by @_3aem on X.

Also, wild west! AU longfic with someone dropping on Sunday night (EST), keep your eyes peeled yeehaw.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.

You did. Your fans did. Hell, you’ve even caught your overworked band manager sneaking a few too many glances. 

And, you conclude, the groupies currently batting their lashes at him definitely did. 

You watch as they swarm to him during open rehearsal, giggling at his pretty smiles. 

Whatever, part of the job anyway.

It’s not like you two were dating. Yeah, a few fucks here and there throughout the years - but what’s one to do when on the road and in such close proximity with a guy that’s practically walking sex? 

Trying not to scowl, you turn away from the commotion, continuing to tune the strings of your trusty Fender. You’ve had your fair share of die-hard fans, so lately why did it bother you so much when Suguru entertained their thinly-veiled advances? 

“Ohoho~ Quite a look on your face there, why don’t you go and caress his biceps too?~” you hear idiot brigade member #1, Gojo Satoru, cackle from beside you. 

If looks could kill, Satoru would’ve been 6 feet under and rotting already. “I thought you stopped writing band fanfiction, Satoru.” you raise a brow. 

“THAT WAS ONE TIME.” he whines dramatically, clinging onto you and shaking you back and forth as if to knock the memory of his Wattpad tendencies out of you. “WHY ATTACK ME JUST CUZ YOU’RE JEALOUS? C’MOOON ADMIT IT.”

You were not jealous. 

Suguru knew you were jealous.

Sneaking a glance, he had to fight the urge to coo at the adorable little furrow of your brows. How unprofessional would it be if he walked off mid-conversation to kiss that pout off your lips?

He knows it’s just sex for you. But - foolishly - every time he held you he could only hope that he ran through your mind as often as you did through his. It elated Suguru to know you were getting that worked up over him. 

That is until, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Satoru draping himself all over you, whispering god-knows-what into your ears. 

The rational part of Suguru knows Satoru is a very touchy person, but why was he so…close? And why weren’t you pushing him off?

Smile tightening into something a little more artificial, he turns to the girls fawning over him. “Well, ladies, I’m sorry to say I’ve gotta go practice before Shoko yells at me again. I’ll see you all in the front row, yeah?” he lies smoothly, disappointed whines following him as he makes a beeline for your figure.

“Well! What have we here, Satoru, are you done tuning?” Suguru pops a head between yours and Satoru’s overly close ones, interrupting whatever conversation you were heatedly whispering. What was so important that you two needed to be that close to talk anyway?

He narrows his eyes at Satoru’s surprised ones, an invisible conversation taking place between them before Satoru cracks a smug grin. “Alright alright. I’ll go tune my guitar.” he rolls his eyes, heading for his electric blue Gibson. 

Your confused gaze meets the twinkling eyes now boring down at you. “Done with the meet-n-greet already?” you question, eyes darting to the group now watching you two like hawks.

The smile on Suguru’s face grows, “Yeah, remembered I didn’t do my pre-concert rituals right.”

“Oh?”

“Wanna help me with it?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Quickly setting down your guitar, he drags you out into the corridor - hand tightly in yours and pointedly ignoring Satoru’s wolf-whistles. 

Hallway sex is overrated, Suguru believes - which is why he heads for the dressing room. 

“Pre-concert rituals” his ass, Suguru just thinks he might pass away if he doesn’t get his hands on you right now. Make you feel like his.

It’s not long before the door is locked and he has you bent over the vanity, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. 

“S-Sugu! Why now? The concert- Hah-” You gasp in pleasure as two long fingers probe inside of you, ruthlessly searching for the spot that Suguru knows would have your toes curling and eyes watering deliciously. 

“Fuck the concert, darling. Barely even started and already so wet f’me.” he drawls out over your whimpers. “Wanted you to come over y’know? And save me from those groupies trying to get in my pants.” 

In your lust-hazed mind, you find the words to respond to him, “You s-seemed to - hah - be enjoying that.”

“Of course not.” he leaves a trail of kisses down your back, “Wasn’t my favorite girl.” he whispers into your heated skin.

He’s being rougher than usual, he knows. In the back of his mind he wonders what it was that he was so pissed at. But all thoughts of that are thrown out the window once he presses into that plushy spot inside your wet core, drawing a sinful whine from your mouth. There.

Pulling back to tease your folds with your own slick, he plunges into your swollen pussy once more, easily hitting that spot over and over. 

“Hngh- Suguru, more!” you grind your hips to meet his merciless rhythm, clenching around his fingers. 

You feel as if you’re losing your sanity when he adds in another finger, walls burning as your cunt stretches around his thick rings. 

Suguru was definitely losing his sanity. 

Anyone could walk by. The concert was about to start any second now. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, too focused on how his fingers were being sucked back in every time he pulls out, your pretty pussy dripping all over his numerous bracelets.

He has to hold back a moan at the way your ass jiggled every time your hips buck to meet his fingers. 

Leaning down over you, he hums lowly into your ear “So desperate for me, hm?”. Pressing the erection straining against his trousers against you, he huffs out “I’m the same, darling. You drive me absolutely mad.”

He feels the way you squirm in impatience at the large outline of his dick, raising your ass in an attempt to get more friction. Eyes crinkling in satisfaction, he pushes down on his girl’s slutty hips, cold rings digging into the small of your waist. 

“Now now…not yet.” he tuts mockingly. 

“Please, Suguru. Please let me cum.”

Increasing his pace, abusing your g-spot relentlessly, Suguru knew by your breathy moans of his name that you were getting close. 

His hand moves from your waist, leaving behind purple marks to remember him by. They wander the expanse of your body - groping your curves, and pinching your nipples through your thin top - delighting in your mewls.

God, you were perfect. He really needed to take his time with you later.

Suguru’s hands, nail polish chipped and fingers calloused from years of playing, finally rest on your face. He pushes your cheeks together, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and forcing you to look at him through the vanity mirror in front of you. Your dazed eyes meet his darkened ones. 

Suguru was so feral. The man that was usually the personification of grace and poise was falling apart at the seams. His eyes wild and grin spread devilishly as his fingers abuse your cunt never-endingly.

“Look at me when you cum.” he murmurs raspily into your neck, teeth ghosting over your rapid pulse.

You don’t know what it is that sends you over the edge - maybe it was his lustful words, or the way his fingers quirked just right inside of you. All you know is you’re cumming all over Suguru’s fingers, hands clutching the vanity table and eyes locked with Suguru’s in the mirror, mouth dropping into a gasp.

“Fuck! Suguru- Suguru!” you whimper.

Suguru watches in wonder as you ride out your orgasm, using him. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Let them see how beautifully you fall apart because of him.

Finally pulling out, Suguru inspects his fingers. “Now now. That won’t do.” he purrs. 

His tongue erotically licks up your juices covering his rings, still holding eye contact with you through the mirror. He catches the way your thighs press together at his lewd act. ‘Oh? Want some?“ he teases. 

Before you can retort, he’s bullying his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. 

The way you moan around him sends blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, he has to steel himself from cumming in his pants right then and there - that wouldn’t be very “sex icon” of him. 

You have no idea what you do to him.

Not willing to wait any longer, he leisurely takes a seat on the spacious vanity sofa. You whine at the loss of contact before catching the predatory look in his eyes. Suguru was going to eat you alive. 

“Come on, darling. Show me how badly you want me.” he grins, legs spreading and prominent bulge on display. 

You take a second to admire the view. Tousled black hair falling enticingly along Suguru’s muscled shoulders, tattooed dragon peeking through where his shirt was messed up. His eyes lustful, and locked on you. 

He was devastatingly handsome. Your mouth waters at the chance to get what so many people would kill for.

Suguru chuckles as you struggle to unbuckle his belt - did rock stars have to always wear such complicated trousers? 

Finally, you pull them down along with his boxers to expose his creamy thighs. Suguru’s throbbing erection lays on his abs, flushed a delicate pale pink.

Your pussy quivers with excitement as you press wet kisses to Suguru’s leaking head, precum dripping down his length to where you’d gently grasped him. A strangled hiss leaves his mouth as you swirl your tongue around the slit. You find yourself lost in his heady taste - he tastes so good.

“Having fun, darling? C’mon now, use me the way you want.” he murmurs, need laced into his voice.

You’ve never gotten used to how big Suguru is. Soft groans leave his mouth as you flatten your tongue and take him in inch by inch, eyes locked with his blown-out ones.

Suguru’s back arches as the heat of your mouth envelops him, hands bunching your hair into a messy ponytail. His pornographic groans echo across the dressing room as you suck on his cock, tongue swirling in just the way you knew he liked.

He can’t even catch his breath with the way you bob your head so heavenly, sucking the soul out of him. It drives him wild to think about how he’s got his lead guitarist on her knees, choking on his cock as your fans wait outside. 

Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you pop off his cock to take his heavy balls into your mouth, moaning around them as you suck on both erotically.

Shit, he was really feeling it today. 

Through the bangs now sticking to his forehead, he makes out the way your thighs grind against each other for relief. 

You were, too.

If this keeps up he really will lose his sanity.

“As much as I’d love to paint your pretty face with my cum, I think we both prefer it inside, no?” he grits out, cock twitching at the strings of spit and precum connecting you to him as he pulls you off. 

“Need you inside me so badly.” you nod, brain foggy and filled with only Suguru.

He’s quick to lift you into his lap, resting your ass against his pulsing cock, sly grin spreading at the way you’re already so fucked out. 

Suguru feels like he could cum just from the sensation of your juices smearing all over his length, pussy dripping and aching for his throbbing cock. 

“Oh yeah? How bad?” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already knowing the answer.

“Please. I want you to fuck me so badly, Suguru.” 

“Badly enough that you’d fuck me out there - where everyone is? Show ‘em who I belong to?”

“Yes.” 

At your whimper, Suguru thrusts fully inside you, a moan of relief leaving you both as you finally get what you’ve been craving for. 

“Shit, so tight. Always so good for me, darling.”

Once you start, it’s hard to stop, Suguru finds. 

It happened when he first fucked you in high school - in his car after your first show, running on adrenaline and teenage hormones. And, years later, it’s happening now as he sheathes himself in your wet cunt. 

He just can’t get enough.

He fucks you animalistically, cock ramming in and out of your hole in a way that makes it feel like you’re missing something without him. Nothing in the world other than your two connected bodies. He feels you clamping down on him deliciously, ego growing at you struggling to accommodate his size. 

“F-fuck, darling. Hah- It’s s’tight. Take it like my good girl.”

“Hngh- Suguru, faster!” you groan, fingers delicately playing with the nipple piercings peeking out of his barely-buttoned shirt, euphoric at his drawn-out moans. 

Unlike Satoru - who takes off his shirt every chance he gets onstage - Suguru was one to shy away from showing skin, slutty piercings and tattoos hidden to the world. It just makes it all the more satisfying as you lick a long stripe along the dragon on his shoulder. 

Feels like your little secret. You wanted to be the only one to see this ethereal sight.

“Ah- So good, darling.” Suguru leans back, allowing you more room to play with him as you please. Cock twitching - so close - as you bore into his eyes, sucking his flashy piercings. 

He ramps up his pace, bouncing you on his cock in a way that was carnal. It was so feral, the way his balls sting as they smack your ass, a ring of spit and precum forming around his base. 

His cock aches for release, but he wants to see you cum first. His pretty girl, cumming all over his throbbing cock.

You pull yourself off his swollen nipples and attach your mouth with his, tongues swirling sensually as he kisses you like he needed you to breathe. 

He’s almost as unforgiving with his mouth as he is with his cock. Almost.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“YOOO I don’t know if ‘pre-concert rituals’ was a code-word for something else but we’re on in twenty minutes.” the unmistakable voice of Suguru’s best friend - and occasional bane-of-his-existence - made you two jump apart. 

“The ultimate cockblock.” Suguru sighs out - his pace, however, does not slow down. Each harsh thrust makes it difficult to muffle your yelps of pleasure from Satoru, who was still calling for you two from outside.

Noticing your predicament, Suguru grins dangerously. “Oh? My poor girl finds it hard to stop her moans? Aww, better try harder unless you want dear Satoru finding out.” he mocks in your ear. 

Both humiliated and turned on by his words, your dripping pussy clenches around his cock. He lets out a choked-up groan, biting hard into the crook of your neck to stop it.

A satisfied smile spreads across your face, “Who should try harder now, Suguru?”

Ah, perfect. You were perfect, perfect for him.

As Satoru’s yells about “cutting a chunk out of Suguru’s pay” disappear across the hallway, both of you let out exhales of relief.

“Dangerous game you played there, mister.” you raise a brow, teasingly.

He chuckles out, before pulling you to him closer by the waist. Lips ghosting over your own, he whispers “Only with you, my darling.” 

Slightly more clear-headed but still dripping with lust, you meet the bounce of Suguru’s hips with your own. Eyes still locked with yours, he stuffs you with every inch - tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 

The steady slapping of skin and synchronized moans fill the room, blocking out the cheering of the audience awaiting your band. 

Yet, the air crackled with something different this time. For the first time, it didn’t just feel like just mindless fucking.

Bite mark on your neck stinging, you could feel Sugurus heartbeat thundering under your touch - synchronized with your own.

In this moment it felt like just you two in this world. 

You wanted to be the only one in his world. Not his fangirls, not some manager, not anyone else. 

Maybe that was the reason for your courage, feeling like everything has finally come to a boiling point. 

“S-Suguru.” you breathe out as you feel yourself getting closer. 

“Mhm?” brows furrowed, he looks up at you with a tenderness in his eyes that does not translate to the merciless cadence of his hips. 

“Be mine.”

And that’s all Suguru ever wanted. 

With a final hard thrust of his cock, he pulls you into a searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. He cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral - and it made you feel like his. 

Suguru’s seed drips down the side of his length, forming a white ring at his base as he fucks it deeper into you, letting you ride out your highs together.

As your climaxes bate, he buries his face in your neck, kissing softly over the mark from before. “To be yours is everything I could ever want, darling.” he breathes out, hugging you closer as if to hide this vulnerable moment. But you feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin.

Embracing him, you gather his beautiful black locks in your hand, fingers deftly taking the hair tie around your wrist to tie his long hair into a messy ponytail. 

Pulling back, you admire Suguru’s angelic features. Face flushed, lips swollen, and dark eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you in surprise.

“Wanted to see your pretty face.” you huff out a low laugh.

The expression on Suguru’s face is indescribable, such pure adoration in his eyes. 

Voice low, he murmurs words meant only for you, “I…I’m in lov-” 

“HEYYY I’m serious, stop doing the devil’s tango and GET THE FUCK OUT.” Satoru’s voice bellows once again through the door, shattering the little bubble you and Suguru had found refuge in.

“Ah- um-”

“You-”

Both of you stammer out at once, chuckling at how shy you were acting with one another even after all that had transpired in this room.

“We should probably go, before Satoru and Shoko pop a blood vessel.” Suguru jokes. You laugh out in agreement as he carries you tenderly to the washroom, his interrupted words weighing heavily on both your minds. It’s okay, you have time. 

Rapidly cleaned up and dressed, Suguru stops, a hand on the dressing room doorknob. “”Hey..” he starts almost-hesitantly, “After the concert, would you maybe want to-”

“Yes.” you interrupt, excitement lacing your voice. 

Chuckling in pure euphoria as you both exit, your smiles turn more sheepish as you’re faced with a bored-looking Shoko and an impatient Satoru tapping his foot. “You horny lil’ fuckers almost missed the show, think of my poor fans~” he exclaims, though the glee in his eyes at your intertwined hands was very evident.

“Hope the sex was good at least.” Shoko drones out, eyes flitting over your guilty flushed faces. 

‘Oh yeah, and Suguru - next time you dump your fangirls on me, I chop your balls off.“ she chirps out, pointing her drumsticks threateningly at his neck as you all head back.

Blinding lights. 

Deafening screams.

Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he was fatally beautiful onstage.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. 

But he only wanted to fuck you.

A/N. MMMMM long-haired men.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[metranart]

The sound of Hawk's voice was something you still hear when you close your eyes, undertones of something deeper, something similar to devotion... almost too caring... asking you to bare his children and become completely and irrevocably, HIS.

ft. Hawks centered, Hawks x reader, Slight! Dabi x Hawks, Slight! Bakugo x reader, Slight! Dabi x reader (in future chaps)

Hawks x UA Student! Reader (Part 14)

-

Warning tag: obsessed! Hawks, possessive! Hawks, naive! student reader, violation of trust, dubious consent, mating cycles, rut response, obsessive behavior, uncontrollable thirst for reader, manipulation, forced, thigh riding, hormonal minds out of control, sexual content, first time, cock riding, teenage fuck, Dabi's toxically interested in you, Bakugo bestie yet secretly inlove wit you, love confessions, cock-drunk, Hawks trying to be good but failing miserably, gaslighting, HEAVY plot, lots of smut.

-

Hawks felt like a glorified asshole for keeping an eye on you instead of doing his patrols. But he couldn't help it... he was just drawn to you like a magnet. Now, you were the gravitational force of his entire universe.

A loose gray sweatshirt covered up to your thighs, it was large and easily hid your identity. Those honey marbles that he called eyes, followed you closely bouncing from solitary tops of buildings, wondering where you were going in such a hurry and with so much stealth.

"What are you up to, baby bird?"

After all the commotion created in the dorms the night the Nomu attacked you, the last thing you wanted was to attract more attention.

The days to come it was difficult to find a moment alone especially with how overprotective your friends got, but you finally managed to shake them off a little, making up a credible enough excuse to go out alone even when Bakugo insisted proficiently on tagging along. 

You reassured him, and quickly claimed that your parents wanted to see that you were okay in person. Actually, this web of lies was only due to you didn’t want Bakugo by your side when going to the drugstore in search of that, vital and inculpatory, item. 

You moved at a fast pace; it surprised you how sharp you were even when had been unable to close your eyes for the last nights. The thought of already being carrying Hawks' child in your womb plagued you mercilessly.

“I'm gonna stuff you with my chicks, you are gonna look soooooo pretty all swelled and heavy…” you remembered his words, you could even feel his warm breath against your ear.

The sound of his voice was something you still hear when you closed your eyes, undertones of something deeper, something similar to devotion... almost too caring... asking you to bare his children and become completely and irrevocably, HIS.

“I can barely wait to come home to my pretty little wifey, waiting for me—” he had claimed, reverently—as if you were meant to be his most prized person, “...round belly, full of my chicks and big, pretty smile on your face,” his daydream, way too chaotic, way to visceral… “-SO ready for me to fill you again.”

Your favorite Hero had come inside you more times than you could keep count, since you stopped doing it when he reached five. 

You even remember, now like a bittersweet and faraway, fond memory…. that Hawks was your first sexual awakening, at the tender age of fourteen, it was his golden curls and his captivating, carefree smile, that had made your heart skip a beat, that had set your hormones on fire... he, alone had been the protagonist in your first sexual fantasy, your first masturbation session in the privacy of your room, your first fictitious boyfriend, your first crush with a man-.... So, was expected, that this situation should be a dream come true for you, but it wasn't…. Because you were no longer a naive and dreamy girl, and he was no longer the idealized, unattainable Hero. Everything had fallen into place in the most painful way possible.

“Here you go miss, thank you for your purchase." 

The cashier replied as dry as a martini, prejudice peeking out of her cold stare, to which you only gave a soft thank you. Without a doubt, she and her unjustified reaction was a clear example of what to expect in a teenage pregnancy.

 A heavy sigh escaped from your lips as you left the drugstore, you hated the situation you were in. The contents of the paper bag resting on your hand, your best kept secret so far, or so you thought.

Keigo’s skin crawled, the entire time you were inside the drugstore. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the winged hero felt like throwing up. He had used one of his feathers with a hidden microphone, so he could listen to what you ordered at the pharmacy, and his fists had clenched almost homicidally when heard you order 'morning-after pills' and a pregnancy test.

You were his mate, Goddammit! You were supposed to be happy and proud to sport his seed inside your tummy. Hawks sulked feeling highly wounded and offended, and not just for this… but also for yesterday's incident. That Bakugo guy was brazenly prickling at his infinitive patience, the bastard had overstepped his welcome yesterday and now, Hawks got him on his radar. 

The winged blond paced from side to side like a bull seeing red, like a lion caged… yet eventually, after seeing how miserable and slouched you looked while searching for a public bathroom to make the test, his heart softened for you. 

“I’m the worst trash that ever existed," The blond chastised himself, "nevertheless, I'm HER trash now."

Hawks didn’t even try to deny his bizarre infatuation. He, almost proudly, admitted that this was not the end for the two of you- 

He gifted you a month out of the graciousness of his heart, even when he doubted his ability to keep that promise. You were freely looming, in his mind, taunting his every thought. 

So, he kept watch, waiting for something he didn't even know what it was. Nevertheless, his watch has begun, and it shall not end until his dying breath. 

His mind had been set. You were his and he was yours, he could easily overpower you no matter how hard you tried, no matter who you ran to, what you did to try to protect yourself.... there was nothing you could do to stop him, and that simple truth was what was keeping him at ease. Granting you certain freedom from his iron grasp, from his sharp claws.

Finally, you found a public bathroom and ran in, this time the winged hero chose to give you the privacy of urinating on a stick, alone. You deserved that much. So, he patiently waited on the nearby roofs, he would then go get the pregnancy test from the garbage can, without a doubt, you wouldn't take the proof of his sin back to the dorms. So, all he had to do was wait.

You pee on the blessed plastic stick and wait. The instructions said one minute but you felt like two hours had already passed.

"God! Can't this take any longer?!" You complained loudly, nerves eating you alive. The minute passed and suddenly all your courage disappeared along with your desire to know the result.

The plastic stick left abandoned on top of the sink, you just had to take a look at it, but you couldn't move, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t fucking blink.

What was there would change your life three hundred and sixty degrees.

"Dammit!" you heard yourself curse, burying your face between your hands to massage your temple burdensomely, "...Grow a fuckin' pair and be done with it, (Y/N)-"

"-If you want, I can tell you the result."

You suddenly heard a bubbly voice say, and your hands fell from your face to reveal a girl standing there. A cute brunet with something akin to a smirk, or a very self-indulgent grin on her face.

“I really don’t mind,” she giggled, all teeth and bubbly energy, “nor I will judge you, I’ve been there myself.” Her smile twisted reassuringly, and you sighed, embarrassed at having to resource to a stranger to do this.

“You are way too kind but-”

“Don’t overthink,” the girl stepped closer, offering you her best winning smile, “I’ll look and then you can tell me if you want me to tell you the result, okey?” 

Somehow, her odd and unrequested company felt better than face this alone. You ended up, nodding stoically and she peek at the pregnancy test.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” you repeated, quizzically. “Is that a good ‘Oh’ or a bad ‘Oh’?” your voice sounded weird even to you.

The girl cracked a wide smile taking the test in her hand. “Well that depends on you, do you want to be a mommy or not?”

You heart fluttered awkwardly at the bold use of term mommy. You shook your head anxiously, and she hummed in understanding. 

“I see.” The girl conceded in a weird resignation, “too bad, you're so pretty... they would have been very cute children."

Oxygen refilled your lungs again, and you felt as if your life with dreams and hopes, was turned back on. A devastating feeling of relief washing over you.

“Thank god!” you beamed with so much relief, you even felt like hugging this opportune strange, girl. “That means, I’m not with child.”

“Nop.” She corroborated, handing you the test back, yet you refused to touch it.

“I don't want to have one of those in my hand again for a long time,” you admitted, honestly, “you can throw it away.”

“Sure,” the girl did, and after an unholy and vast blast of thank you’s, you parted ways with your anonymous hero. Almost skipping on your feet all the way out.

“Thank you again.” You screamed back, once at the exit door. “Sure, it was my pleasure...-” You left, and the door slowly swayed until it closed completely, and the girl added, “-(Y/N).”

Once alone, she reached into the trash can and retrieved the pregnancy test, giggling the whole time.

"A heroine-to-be shouldn't be so trusting." A macabre smile spread across her face, and she tilted her head at the test in her hand, "...I wonder why Dabi is so interested in Hawks' toy?" Toga wanted to rip her face off, but she had chosen one so pretty that decided to stay in costume a little longer. "Well, it doesn't matter, Dabi said he’ll pay me for this, anyway."

Still, in disguise, pocketed the pregnancy test and left without raising any suspicion. 

Hawks kept pacing on the roof, desperation clear in every stomp of his boots. He was doing his best to be patient while searching. The blond had been looking for the evidence for more than half a day, the damn pregnancy test, he sent a dozen of his feathers in search of it, but nothing... had you taken it with you? One would only keep a test if it was positive, right?! Were you pregnant with his nugget?!?... Was he really that lucky?

“Hawks, where are you? over.” His radio came to live, once again and this time felt he couldn’t dodge his Hero responsibilities anymore, “We have not had any communication from you all day, over.”

Hawks inhaled sharply before answering. “I am on surveillance, please do not use this channel unless it is an emergency.”

“It's not an emergency, but I thought it was prudent to let you know before accepting, over."

The night was already upon him, and the cleaning man was just leaving his shift. Hawks sighed, heavily. He had lost his chance to find anything. 

"Speak."

"You have to say over when you finish talking." Hawks deadpanned; he wasn’t in the mood for this.

"Speak." He repeated, sternly, patience close to its limit. The person on the other end sighed, "UA Academy is calling for reinforcements for this year's sports festival, over," the voice on the other end said and suddenly he felt very interested, "continue."

The radio biped again, "They fear an attack from the League of Villains, since yesterday someone managed to throw a projectile through the shield and break a gym window,” Hawks listened attentively, an impious smirk slowly twisting his lips up, apparently his little outburst had had interesting consequences. The person on the other side continued, “and therefore, they request the help of Pro-heroes to avoid any incident. Endeavor, Mirko, Best Jeanist and Ryukyu have already been confirmed," the voice explained, "I think It would be an overkill if you were to-"

"I accept, confirm my attendance immediately." There was an awkward silence before the radio biped again, "Are you sure? We have no intel of an attack from the League, you would be the first to know, I think they are overreacting-"

"Better safe than sorry."

Long silence, and then.

"If you say so, over and out."

The memory of yesterday's incident made his blood burn again, he knew it wasn't your fault but that of your little friend: Bakugo, that shameless son of a bitch, that made him foam at the mouth like a mad dog, it made him want to kill someone... it made him need to get even, and suddenly, the blue eyes and stapled skin of his lover in turn, spark in his brain... Dabi could take it, he'd even love it.. Hawks left the roof in a rush of crimson feathers and sent a text message.

Hawks. -

See you at the agreed place.

Dabi. -

So fast, birdbrains?

Hawks didn't answer, just heading to the agreed upon location.

-

“Give it here, Toga.” Dabi entered the room where Toga was upside down on the couch, scrolling through her cell phone. He needed to close that before meeting Hawks. "...I assume you have what I asked for?"

Toga sat up straight and stretched her back soundly, before answering. "I got it," she assured, "...where's my payment?"

Dabi took out a box of fine sweets, from the best store in town. Store that at this moment was being put out by firefighters after the sudden and unsuspected electrical short that set it on fire. If only.

"First give me the evidence and I'll give you the box." Dabi offered with a bored grimace, and Toga pulled the coveted item out of her backpack.

"At the same time?"

Dabi shrugged, unconcerned. After both snatched the precious items from each other’s hands in a quick exchange, the pregnancy test rested in his scarred hand. Without ceremony, Toga ripped the box open and stuffed her mouth, making her words difficult to understand.

"Why aw-re you interestwed in Hawks' girlwfriend?"

A pierced eyebrow rose on the dark-haired man's face. 

"How many lines for positive or negative?" the turquoise-eyed asked, openly ignoring her ramblings. 

Toga shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, I never knew how to read them." She admitted in all honesty, stuffing her cheeks with more candy.

Dabi grimaced, and luckily for him Kurogiri’s timing couldn’t be better. The dark purple mist appeared out of thin air behind the bar. Misty's hands beginning to clean glasses, absentmindedly.

"Oi Kurogiri, do you know how to read these things?"

The dark purple mist's yellow eyes stared sharply at the item in his hand before meeting his eyes for a brief minute, and then returning his gaze to the pregnancy test. "I have some knowledge about it."

Dabi stepped closer, handing him the test. Kurogiri’s eyes fixed on the stripes and Dabi’s lips pursed, unable to know if he was smiling or scoffing when he ended up saying quite politely.

"Congratulations, Dabi."

COMING SOON PART 15....

➡️ NSFW Artwork of this story

@wtvbabes @dreamlessnight @naomi1247e @alicecil87 @geniejunn @justanerd1 @bakugosgirl01 @toxicxmindsposts @kezybear

[ethereal555]

FUCK BOY PT.2

player!jude x black!reader.

“You see that purple thing on the dresser” you whisper against his lips. You notice how warm they were in comparison to the heated words they were spewing earlier.

You shake the memories from your head.

He looks towards your dresser indeed seeing the purple lace material.

“It’s lingerie Jude. I was gonna wear it for you tonight yknow and we were gonna have some fun. A lot of fun..” you insinuate with an innocent look on your face, that didn’t at all match the thoughts in your head.

He draws in a long hard breathe, his grip around the circumference of your waist tightening knowing exactly where this conversation was going.

“ A shame innit?.. Well now you can fuck Levi in them, no?” He questions as his fingers brush back your curls that were hanging over your eyes, looking intensely at them, noticing how full of passion they looked.

So jealous, you think.

“Mmm, I was thinking that earlier, it depends on what his favourite colour on me is. Yours is purple, dark purple, which is why I bought it. I’m thinking he’ll like more of - um - like a dark red on me.” You rant intentionally trying to piss him off, you knew what you wanted from him in this moment and there was only one way you were going to get it.

He clears this throat, his hard body shifting slightly. You raise your head up and from your position on Jude's chest you could the outline of his jaw bulging. The man’s neck pulled back to look at you.

It was working.

He looks so good, the lilac LEDs were bringing out the shape of his dark eyebrows, his slight curl of dark lashes and the sharpness of his now accentuated cupid's bow - You mentally slap yourself - hard. This is disgusting, they way in which you lacked a backbone; especially in regards to him. Why were you doing this right now? You knew these thoughts were ultimately a disservice to yourself and now your mind and your body were not at peace with eachother.

“We both know you’re not doing that Tianna” his gaze was intense leaving no room for argument or anymore teasing. He never played when it came to you, this was one of the rare times that jealousy looked good on him.

There was no denying that your thoughts were clouded and so was your judgement tonight but you couldn't stop noticing how good he looked with every look of caution he gave you, with every little squeeze he gave your waist and with every swallow he took -

'Mhm’ you hummed, moving your body so you were no longer on your side with your chin on his chest, but laying down on your stomach (on top of him, chest to chest) bringing you both directly face to face. He often remarked about how your eyes did crazy things to him, so you used this to your advantage trying to emulate through your eyes all the things you wanted to do to him.

He slams the back of his head down on your pillow abruptly.

“Don’t look at me like that” he moans, as if he was restraining himself. You trace your finger along the underside of his jaw, enjoying the stubble pricking on your finger. You inch forward to peck his neck.

'Like what, you are in my bed right now, you know that right..' You admire the shape and colour of his lips, it sent jolts to your vagina. And so did the goatee growing on his face.

The memories of the many nights of trauma on your vagina darken your mind making your nipples harden and your hole leak. From the way your body was slowly contorting side to side, Jude, who knew your body more than anything, was well aware of what was happening to the woman ontop of him.

'It’s getting hot in here, no?' you breathe.

You sit up to take off your Oversized Black Essentials Hoodie off. Leaving you quite literally naked. You get under the covers. Jude stayed in his same position, still, the same didn’t go for his eyes though.

His eyes hawked at the way your perky tits bounced as you removed your jumper. The curves you possessed on your waistline, your hips, your bum. He admired how you always kept moisturised and smelling delectable whether you were leaving the house or not. You were truly his dream girl. He just had a poor way of showing it.

He ravished at the arch on your back as you slithered your way under the covers.

'Close your mouth boy' you taunt, your lips bitten with anticipation. He was turned on his lips pursed, his right leg shaking something he only did when needing to contain himself. He chuckled.

'How can I love?' he expresses, his gaze transifxed on your cleavage. Your gorgeous boobs popping out from the silk sheets you wrapped around your body.

You look down at them noticing his unwavering, almost predatorial gaze. You slowly pull your sheets down, fully exposing your breasts. You laugh, not quite believing your hazy state.

'They've missed you', your rasp your voice now low and sultry - you pinch both your nipples swerling then between your forefingers 'Come feel something Jude'.

'Fuck' he gulps.

----

“You've come in here to be a fucking crybaby huh?”

He accosted as you wipe your tears fast not wanting him to see.

“Jude fucking Bellingham! Since you have nothing better to do than to torment me, I’ll give you a suggestion. Just go back to Spain and continue fucking your little racist prostitute and leave me the hell alone. I mean doesn't that sound appealing?' You ridicule keeping your voice firm.

He is irritating you again, you think to yourself. Why am I letting him make me feel these things? How?? How is he making me feel these things, even now that I'm high, a state where strong emotions are foregin to me.

Because you love him - a voice spoke in my head.

You go to your drawer getting out your papers, and roll yourself another blunt. A fat one. He wasn’t getting the best of you tonight, and you were not going to let those voices in your head influence you to do anything.

“What? you can't handle a bit of the truth so now you wanna drown me out with some fucking weed like a fucking druggie, pathetic.” He says, slamming the door shut, walking further into my room.

You walk up to him a scowl drawn on your face and before you knew it, his face swung to the side. 'You're so fucking disrespectful. Go. Now.' you spat.

You feel your eyes sting, and your knees buckle.

He knew why you smoked, you did so to numb your pain. Smoking worked better for you than taking antideppresants, and again with no remorse he threw that back in your face.

He turns his head back around, his cheeks red. I see his adam's apple move up and down, his face turning back towards me slowly. You retreat, subconsciously. Before you know it he has a nasty grip on your jaw, walking you backwards until you fell onto your bed.

'Touch me like that again. I dare you. Look at you, look at your fucking eyes' he points his index and middle finger harshly pointing into my temples.

'You’re hurting me Jude, why are you doing this to me? Physically and mentally. Why are you punishing me?' you sob, your breath shaky. '

I just want you to leave so I can be by myself, but you keep saying bad things to me and it's going to make it harder and harder for me to come to terms with all of this.'

“I’m not doing anything to you!! I made a mistake! A mistake!! You are punishing me. You know how much I love you and it’s ridiculous everyone and I mean - everyone does but you'.

“Look at the state of you, your eyes are red and swollen, you're all snotty, you're crying, you can't even stand straight. I did this to you Tianna. Me. Because you love me so much. You claim to hate me, and all this shit but I know your body and your heart are actively saying different. Stop being so difficult.”

He’s sick, you think. And you knew he had faced emotional trauma from not seeing his parents treat each other in the right way, and you understood, but this was just beyond absurd.

“See this! This! is exactly why I’ll never settle for you. Never. It riles you up to see me upset. You use, seeing me like this, as a token of my love. You sick man.” You shout through streams of tears.

“Tianna, I’m the best you’ll get and you know that. Any other rich or famous man that shows interest in you I promise only wants to fuck you or 'be' with you because of me. Because they want to be able to show the world that they could have 'Jude’s girl' to make themselves feel better about being mediocre. But knowing you, you'll take it to your head" he expresses.

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t hurt.

“…. Well then I don’t want the best I could get then. If you’re the best I swear Jude I want the absolute worst!!"

That hit a nerve, surely.

“I can’t be in a situation with a man who doesn’t think we’re equals. No.” you rebuked.

“What could I do to make you leave Jude? I’ve cried so much today alone, my eyes feel weak I just wanna sleep and call my sister and forget this ever happened. Please Jude, I’ll do anything”

Please Jude, I’ll do anything. He repeated this in his head. The love of his life as begging to be rid of him? Since when was this his reality. Facing rejection was something he experienced seldom, let alone from someone he genuinely held close to his heart.

He leans on the foot of my bed with his fists holding him up. His feet grounded, 'So I don’t make you happy anymore, you've decided you want to end this whole thing because of one fuck up?’ he says softly his face rid of any expression.

Just listening, for once.

“It’s not just one fuck up, it’s the way you talk to me, how aggressive you are sometimes, the life you live, the way you never defend me on the internet, the amount of women throwing themselves at you.. like I’m scared to put my heart in your hands.. because YOU are the weak one in this and you'll succumb to it all. It's not going to work. You won't be the one hurting when it all falls to shit, it'll be me. You have the money you'll buy the women, the holidays, the jewellry and the clothes to keep your mind off of things, I can't.".

“So you wanna go fuck on Levi, see if he can be the man you want him to be?” he questions oozing jealousy. Veins in his forehead and neck bulging.

What? you think. That's all he can think about after I've just spilt my heart out.

You’re silent. You don’t know why, whilst Levi has tried to make multiple advances towards you in the DM’s and at clubs - it was something you swore to never tell Jude about, but your silence was a dead giveaway you knew it was but you kept silent anyway. You were becoming just like Jude, toxic.

“Did you hear what I just said, Tianna?” He grits out.

You zone out again, this time not intentionally.

“I don’t know what on earth the future holds” you laugh nervously. He wasn't playing.

You lick your lips.

You knew exactly what the future held. Happiness. And if you both continued this way, he wouldn't be part of it.

This silence pisses him off, maybe smoking around Jude this time wasn’t the best idea especially due to climate of the conversations you were having, but it was the only way you could survive a conversation with him without leaving with a completely wounded self esteem and view of your life.

“So it’s a yes?” You bite your lips figuring out the most mature thing to say but instead you say..

“Fucking hell, get off of my dick. Yes, yes ok? If that’s what you think. Levi will be the man you can't be..” you scoot back further onto your bed your back hitting the headboard.

You scratch your neck, his face contorted with disgust. He kisses his teeth drawing back from his position leaning over the bed.

Another silence fills the room. His jaw clenching rapidly.

He scoffs, his palm finding his head slapping himself. Once, twice, three times, four times.

“Jude… stop.” you mumble.

He continues “Jude! It’s okay!” you voice louder.

“Well it’s not okay is it? Look at the state of ya, look at the state of me. What are we doin’? What have I done ? Why are you so quick to give up on this? he choked out. He turns around, in a fit of rage he kicks your dressers, causing a bunch of perfumes and jewellery to fall off as the dresser rattles back and forth.

“JUDE!” you shout.

He turns back around, his eyes teary. He shouts an exasperated expression on his face, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He rubs his face, shaking.

You swallow, scooting over to the foot of the bed where he stood. His forehead bruised red. You hold his hands mainly to stop him from doing that again. It scared you. He was so impulsive at times and you had no idea what he’d do next.

You wrap your arms around his waist. As much as you hated how he treated you today, you couldn’t stomach seeing him look so empty, an expression that looked out of place in your abode.

“Tianna, please tell me you didn’t mean anything you said today. You’re mine, I swear to God. We belong together, we just need to lay down and sleep. We’ll get through this shit, we can’t give up.”

“I mean everything I said. Don't get it twisted.”

“Tianna, I have to stay the night -'

“That’s not a good idea and you know that” you reject letting go of his waist, and crossing them over your chest.

“This may truly be the last time I see you so please - let me lay with you.” he pleads.

Wrong choice! wrong choice! Your brain goes off like alarm bells. But you couldn't pay attention to them, even if you tried.

Your body was betraying you.

----

Your unsteady hands fist the sheets, your mouth wide open though there was no sound. You couldn't make any.

'HMMMM' you breathed out.

Your body was being manipulated to say the least. Jude had you on all fours, your ass spread open, his nose and tongue dancing in between your thick cheeks. His slender hands had a tight grip on them keeping them open, spanking them with every inveitable jerk your body made, in an attempt to run from his devious tongue.

Your thighs kept shaking. It was truly embarrasing, your flesh moving with every thrust from Jude's tongue forcing into your vagina. He was french kissing your hole, frequently retreating to suck your now swollen clit. It drove you crazy.

'Rub yourself, baby' he muffled into your behind. Your stomach was clenched, you felt weak but with all your might you moved your left hand towards your wet, swollen clit rubbing and pulling. Your head dropped with satisfaction

“J - jude - baby” you drool your hips bucking.

“I’m making you feel good?'

' MMmmm yeahhhhugh, you - uu always doo' you moaned your teeth clenched.

'You think Levi could do you like this?' he slobbered his tongue inching up towards your second tight hole. Your blurred eyes widen. Your rub your clit faster, earning a loud mewl. Your stomach tightening, you were close”

His husky voice that was riddled with jealousy only made your gaping hole contract and relax faster around his 3 fingers.

He bites the skin between your pussy and your ass, and you scream 'judeeee!" 'don't ignore me'' he insists

He keeps lapping up your arousal fluid, it was now trailing down your thighs and onto the sheets.

'maybe...' you rasp, trying to catch the breathe he bit out of you. He growls, the vibration causing shivers to run down your body.

Jude withdraws his mouth from your area.

He stands up on his knees towering behind my weak body. He leans forward and cups my neck with his free hand pulling it towards him meeting him halfway.

'Is that what you think yeah?’ He growls possessively in my ear.

'No, no, J, please keep eating me.' You wriggle your head trying to get out of his grip on your neck , but his grip on your neck only tightened.

‘Right then, watch your mouth with me!”

The rough edge to his voice made you wetter than you already were. Your arms and hands that were keeping your body up, travel to your cheeks spreading them open wider. Your face falls to the sheets with desperation of all you wanted him to do to you; after a long day of fighting, 'makeup sex' was an idea that drove you crazy.

Your face lands on the bed with a soft “hmph”.

You wiggle your ass in the air, deepening your arch. He slaps your ass cheek, spitting on your ass hole twice. The warm spit slides down your second whole, Jude uses his thumb and glides his spit all over the circumference of your asshole. Giving you no warning as he jabs his thumb into your ass, a gasp escapes from your mouth.

You weren't able to become comfortable with this feeling as Jude swiftly swiped his unoccupied forfingers under your slippery folds, rubbing with concerntrated effort. He trails his now lubricated fingers toward your needy, pulsating hole to which you pule with satisfaction.

'Be patient' he berates as he sees your back arch further, desperately stretching your hole out infront of him. He thrusts his fingers into you and your cunt swallowed his fingers with ease.

'Oh jude' you cry.

His thumb circulating inside your tighter hole whilst he is completely obliterating the other hole, punching your insides. Your teeth find the sheets again, biting them to supress your pornographic moans.

'Rub yourself Ti.' You find the strength to rub your sensitive clit with a pace just a tad slower than Jude's rapid pace. His fingers never stop digging into you, and its when you feel your abdomen tighten that you know you're about to squirt. Your left hand reaches to grab Jude's wrist.

'Uhn uhn. No touching. Lift your head up, i wanna hear you.’ You raise your head slightly, your legs beginning to shake faster, this doesnt make Jude slow down rather go faster and faster. His thumb inching forward ever so often, going deeper into your asshole, his strong thumbs now knuckle need in your ass. Your eyebrow furrow, “whyyyy” you whisper, the fingers rubbing your clit stiffen. Your eyes roll back hard as you feel a wave of bliss washing over mind and body. You squirt screaming, hearing the impact of your fluids hitting your silk sheets.

'Shit' you hear Jude whisper as your asshole tightens around him. His finger movements in your pussy slow down. From between your legs you can see his now damp jeans and his wet wrist and fingers. Your hole rapidly contracting and relaxing dealing with the aftermath of your riveting climax.

'Jude, I want more. Something meaner'. He leans down, leaving a kiss on your spine. You loved how rough Jude was with you, especially during sex and that was what you were left craving.

'What a trooper' he remarks taking his fingers out of you. He walks towards your bathroom sticking his thumb in his mouth teasingly.

“Jude thats nasty as fuck.”

You can only just hear him over the gush of water coming from your sink

'I'd only ever do that with you, I know how clean you are'.

He comes back out, looking at you laying in the purple lights. 'We're not done' you mumble.

He smirks,

“I'm tired. This was just my way of apolgising to you” he stretches feigning a long overdramatic yawn.

'You’re being weird. You never just finger me. As a man you can't leave me unsatisified'. you bribe.

He takes his jeans off, leaving him in his black Calvin Kleins that you could clearly see his protruding peice in.

Ooo

He lays next you. He knew exactly what he was doing, leaving you waiting, wanting and needy. Jude was obsessed with you, obsessed would even be quite the understatment. But deep inside this obsession was being magnified by a fear that this could be the last night he shared with you, but him manipulating and mandhandling your body in the way he did, in the way he knew you went crazy for, would keep you wanting more. And that’s exactly what happened..

[gennemi]

𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 (𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑷𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔)

A/N: Happy New Year's to all my lovely followers! I hope you all had a safe and lovely New Year's, I love you all! ✨🖤 and thank you to my friend for helping me make this happen! 🖤✨

Includes: Dracule Mihawk, Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Sanji Vinsmoke, Buggy the Clown, Red-Haired Shanks, Trafalgar D. Water Law, and Portgas D. Ace

Warnings: Pure Fluff, mentions of Alcohol, kissing, just pure fluff, non binary reader.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒉𝒂𝒘𝒌:

Mihawk and his lover are just spending New Year's just the both of them, sipping on his favorite vintage wine, having light conversation, and cooking New Years dinner together, and even making little snacks, to snack on. The two of them were making small conversation about how this year went. 

Spending time together is all the two wanted to start the new year, no one else but them. It was basically an hour before midnight. So right now the two were currently dancing around the large living room of their castle that they called home. The two lovers didn’t need music to dance. 

He looked at the clock, it read a minute before midnight. He pulled her close to him, looking into her eyes with his hawk-like eyes. As he continued to hold them close to him, spinning them around softly, he looked back at the clock, and saw it had hit midnight.

“Happy New Year Darling, here's to another amazing year with you.”

He spoke softly, as he pulled them in to give them a New Years Kiss.

𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝑫. 𝑳𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒚:

“Happy New Year Y/N!” the straw hat captain grinned. The straw hats, with the help of Franky and Nami keeping up with time, had planned a big feast to celebrate the beginning of a New Year. Smiling warmly at their  captain trying to steal food while Usopp and Nami valiantly defending the food. Zoro was already sipping on his booze, Robin was relaxing while using her devil fruit ability to help bring food to the table. 

After the big feast, it was about a few minutes before midnight, the two went to another part of the Thousand Sunny, to spend alone time together. They had a small conversation together. Her giggling at Luffy being his usual silly self, he loved hearing them laugh. And seeing their smile.

Soon the fireworks went off, the fireworks being Nami’s idea, so they had bought the fireworks to shoot off “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” They heard their fellow crewmates shout. He poked them on the shoulder, she looked at him.

“Happy New Year!” 

He cheered out, happily as he pulled them close, giving them a New Years Kiss.

𝑹𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒂 𝒁𝒐𝒓𝒐:

For New Years he wanted to spend time with them just the two of them. Up in the crows nest of the Thousand Sunny with a bottle of sake. And a plate of food for them to eat, while their crew members partied down below, he was planning something a little special, as soon as the fireworks went off (Which were Nami’s idea)

The two were sharing a bottle of sake, while talking. All cuddled up together in the crows nest. The two were cracking jokes about the things that had happened during this year, and hoping to make fond memories for every year to come. They don’t even know the time currently. Too busy wrapped up in each other's embrace.

The fireworks then suddenly went off with their fellow crewmates yelling “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” from below them, he looked over at her softly grabbing their face, to have them look at him.

“Happy New Year babe, here’s to the new year. And plenty more to go.”

He spoke, as his lips pressed against hers. Giving them a New Years Kiss.

𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒋𝒊 𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒆:

The straw hat crew was hosting a New Year party/feast on the Thousand Sunny. Sanji and his beloved were drinking some wine together, while eating the food that Sanji prepared with their help. The couple were happy to go into the new year together. As the crew laughed, and conversated about how this year went. All the memories they made.

Sanji and his beloved were conversing about the good, bad, and funny memories they made together. As they snuggled up together, waiting on Franky and Nami to shoot off the fireworks. To go into the new year.

Soon the fireworks went off, he looked over at them pulling them close to him, putting a hand softly on their cheek. 

“Happy New Year my beloved, here's to many more with you~”

He spoke, as he leaned in and softly gave them a New Years Kiss.

𝑩𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒏:

There was a party being hosted by Buggy himself on The Big Top. It was a New Years party to celebrate going into the new year, with plenty of sake and food to go around, it was a whole feast. In their own corner was Buggy and Y/N spending time with each other, eating food and drinking sake together. 

They had planned to shoot off fireworks, as soon as it was midnight. And Buggy also had something planned to go into the new year with his lover. He felt happy to celebrate new years with them, he couldn’t wait until it hit midnight.

Soon the sound of fireworks in the sky surrounded the area, they looked up at the fireworks in awe as the crew yelled out “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” as they cheered and hollered, Buggy pulled them close to him, causing them to look at him.

“Happy New Year Doll~”

He cooed softly, as he pulled them in for a New Years Kiss.

𝑹𝒆𝒅-𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔:

The crew was of course celebrating New Year with a party, with of course alcohol being involved. Shanks had his love sitting on his lap, him being the clingy partner that he is. Wanted them close to him, as the two drank on the rum. And ate on the food that was served.

They had managed to buy fireworks for this occasion, as his love wanted fireworks. And him being the amazing lover that he is. Made sure that happened. The one keeping up with the time was Lucky Roux, he let everyone know it was almost time for it.

The time went by fast as the fireworks now went off, shooting up into the sky with different, beautiful but vibrant colors, he pulled them close to him, to get their attention. They looked at him.

“Happy New Year Love, to many more with you.”

He pulled them into a New Years Kiss.

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝑫. 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒂𝒘:

The Heart Pirates were celebrating new years on the Polar Tang, with food and snacks, and drinks to choose from, it was just a small celebration amongst the crew. Law and his lover were hanging out on the deck, just them wanting to spend alone time together. He had a watch on his wrist so he could tell when it's midnight.

He wanted to do something special for them as soon as midnight hit, he was listened to them rant about the memories good, bad,and silly that they made this year, and hoping to make the same memories with him during the new year.

He looked at his watch, noticing it was now midnight. He looked over at them, touching their face gently, causing them to look at him, he leaned in close to them.

“Happy New Year Doll.”

He whispered softly, bringing them into a New Years Kiss.

𝑷𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒈𝒂𝒔 𝑫. 𝑨𝒄𝒆:

The two were strolling down the busy street hand in hand, they wanted to come to the New Years Festival with him, and how could he say no to his lover. The two were sharing a candied apple. Looking at all the stalls open, the smells of different foods wafting in the air.

When it was almost time for the fireworks to go off, the two went to the outskirts of the town, and sat down on a small hill, where they are still able to see the fireworks go off. They were joking around, and talking to pass the time.

Soon the fireworks went off as they heard cheers from the festival below, the two looked at each other, this was his chance, he put one of his hands softly on their cheek rubbing it softly.

“Happy New Year My Flame!”

He cheerfully said, as he gave them a kiss, a New Years Kiss.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Don’t imagine MK1 men edition;

This came to me as I was listen to asmr last night. Honestly have no clue what this is. 🦦

Don’t imagine Tomas asking you out of the blue about how he smells, having just finished using a new shower jell that had you recently bought, and once you were within range Tomas then pecks your forehead with his soft lips before pulling away with flustered cheeks and a dopey smile as he sheepishly rubs the back of his head.

‘I couldn’t resist.’ He claims. ‘I saw others doing something similar with their spouses, and so I guess I wanted to do it too. Pretty silly huh?’

Don’t imagine Raiden listening intently as you spoke, giving you every ounce of his attention towards the topic of discussion, smiling softly as his unwavering gaze never once faltered from your face; whereas yours would find a hard time staying glued to his beautiful dark ones because of how deeply he looked at you, making you feel not only heard but seen too.

Even as you apologised for talking his ear off, Raiden would counter that your voice was something he could never grow tired of, for it was his favourite sound.

It was such a simple thing but it was enough for you to feel yourself becoming fidgety under his gaze. It didn’t seem to matter how many times Raiden did this because it would always feel like the first time, every time.

Don’t imagine Liu Kang trying to make up for lost time by spending whatever small amount of time he had with you to the fullest before duty inevitably calls for his attention once more.

He’s fully aware that you don’t hold it against him and that you knew what you were getting into upon agreeing to being with him, but he couldn’t help but feel as though he was in some way selfish with you, to which you were quick in disagreeing with by saying he was more selfless then selfish.

However that didn’t stop Liu Kang from helping you with your daily tasks as a way of expressing his gratitude for you, whether that be going down to the market, making the bed, preparing breakfast or something to drink. Liu Kang will do it without a second thought because who knows when he’ll have to leave you again.

So he savours every moment while he can but it doesn’t make the pain of having to separate from you anywhere near bearable.

‘No matter how far apart we may be physically, that does not mean my heart isn’t any less always with you.’

Don’t imagine Kuai Liang holding you tightly to him during the cold nights, his above average body warmth acting as your only form of comfort to combat the cold drafts that would somehow make their way into your room.

He’d thoroughly enjoyed the view of you trying to get as close as possible to leech off of his warmth, he couldn’t get enough with just how perfect you slotted against him and would often times have to pull you back into his embrace when he felt you shift the slightest bit away from him.

Kuai Liang loves keeping you close to his person, it makes him feel as though he’s protecting you with everything that he has, he loves it even more when he gets the chance to wake up before you and chooses to admire your every feature with adoration and love, engraving every inch of your face to memory; even your every imperfection that you claim to posses was engraved into his mind as to Kuai Liang, to love was to love imperfectly.

Not all love was perfect but yours certainly the most perfectly imperfect love there was.

Don’t imagine Bi-Han allowing you to take care of his injuries when he gets back from missions.

Don’t imagine Bi-Han‘s muscles tense up initially upon feeling your hands upon his injured bicep, soft hands working away at the wound in a way that wouldn’t cause him any more pain then he was already in.

Don’t imagine Bi-Han as his his sharp, observant eyes watch your every movement like a hawk, it’s not like he didn’t trust you, he was just trained to be vigilant whenever he put his care within the hands of others. He would even do it with the medics now and then but quickly came to accept that they knew what they were doing.

Don’t imagine Bi-Han slowly coming to terms with just how touch starved he was when he found himself at the mercy of your tender, caring touch, practically giving over all power to you in that situation to do whatever you saw fit. You could’ve hurt him even further for all he knew but instead you treated each of his wounds with a kind of gentleness he had never seen nor received before.

Whatever you do don’t imagine Bi-Han inspecting your work after you were done, giving a satisfied grunt, before he did an uncharacteristic thing by grabbing your hands within his own and kissing the back of them in gratitude.

[konigbabe]

mosaic of us

Pairing: plaga!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Word count: 6k

Tags/warnings: smut; no y/n; infected Leon (las plagas); p-in-v sex; unprotected sex; female gendered anatomy; rough sex; creampie; manhandling; Leon's a menace and this is yet another pure filth

Summary: Hidden in the village, Leon's condition keeps deteriorating; somehow, his kiss seems to ignite something deep inside you. Something primal — savage in its roots.

A/N: Written as part of my A to Z kinks game. R is for rough sex.

I sincerely apologize for this mess. Divider is mine.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

You notice the veins around his eyes growing more prominent, twisting and pulsing like roots searching for water. It’s as if something inside him is struggling to break free from its confines, a dangerous force waiting to be unleashed. With a sudden jerk, Leon looks up at you with an intense fervor; the sclera now twisted into a sickly yellow, the inky tendrils reaching towards his pupils, enveloping them in a macabre embrace.

The glow of the sun filters through the gaps in the wooden walls of the shed, illuminating the space with a warm, golden light. You stand there, hidden away from the villagers (who managed to overrun you not even an hour ago), as a gentle breeze weaves through the nearby trees. It's a sweet melody that accompanies the soft whispers of the diary's pages, its newfound freshness almost palpable as you trace your fingers along its surface.

The air still carries the scent of damp wood and earth, with a hint of mustiness. The shed’s been abandoned for too long, left to the mercy of the elements. Like a forgotten tomb, filled with the memories of a long-departed soul. Neglected in its wake.

Reading page after page – each with intriguing materials hidden inside its folds, you let the ink come alive, painting vivid pictures of his observations.

July 10, 2004

Today marks another day of failed attempts at finding a cure for the outbreak in this village. The scarce resources and limited materials available make it even more challenging to uncover a solution. However, after much experimentation and observation, I finally managed to identify the mode of transmission – horizontal transmission. The virus can replicate its DNA and spread throu–

The shadow of a figure looms over the creaky door, pulling your gaze away from the passage. Your hand slinks towards the gun holster on your thigh, fingers tapping the handle with precision, safety off. You stare at the door, alert like a hawk on the prowl.

With a soft thud, the diary shuts; your senses stir in anticipation as the door opens. The hinges groan under the weight of the door. Recognizing the person entering, an exhale leaves your lips.

Leon's silhouette is backlit by the dimming light, creating a halo effect around his head. His large frame takes up almost the whole space of the door, blocking out any remaining slivers of sunlight that had managed to seep through the cracks.

He swiftly shuts the door behind him, sealing off the outside world like a fortress protecting its treasure. With practised ease, he places a chair underneath the handle, securing it.

"Shit," you cuss as you snap the safety back on the gun, "don’t try sneakin’ up on me like that again, Leon."

Leon's eyes flicker up, scanning your tense frame, alert for any signs of aggression. He nods, a wordless apology for startling you, and steps towards you with a cautious gait.

Restarting the reading, you skip through the rest of the page, flicking to the next one.

–indicates that the virus' spread is heavily influenced by the host's behavior and their relationship with the recipient.

As Leon shuffles past, the air is infused with the heady aroma of his shirt, like the sweet, earthy scent of freshly turned soil. The mustiness of its faded blue is mixed with the sharp tang of his cologne, reminiscent of the crisp bite of a green apple. He runs a hand across his smooth-shaven face, the coolness of his skin a temporary relief from the relentless fever burning inside him.

Today's findings have shed new light on the behavior of the virus. My latest analysis has revealed that the virus has a peculiar ability to alter the composition of the host's saliva. Strikingly, I discovered that infected individuals have elevated levels of–

Your eyes dart across the page, scanning the words with lightning speed. The words blur together as you scan through them with lightning speed, eager to reach the end of the entry in hopes to find a way to help Leon.

The implications of these findings are tantalizing, and suggest that the virus may be manipulating the behavior of its hosts to facilitate its own spread.

"What’re you readin’," Leon asks, stepping to your side with the knife holster dangling from his grip like a coiled snake.

The close proximity of him allows your arm to brush against his chest, the solid mass of muscle beneath his shirt a somewhat comforting presence in the chaos you’ve found yourself in. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, squeezing it gently like a reassuring pat on the back as his eyes dart towards the diary.

You don’t hesitate to show it to him, its cover slightly worn and creased from your constant handling.

"It’s some kind of a diary," you watch as Leon flips through the pages, occasionally pausing to read it, "found it in one of the houses. It’s written by–I think–a scientist who was here; Doctor Javier García."

Leon's fingers trace the faded lines, the foreign letters, as if absorbing the knowledge contained within, yet the puzzled expression on his face tells you otherwise. The rustling of pages sounds like a whisper in the quiet room as he flips through them.

"It’s in Spanish," he grumbles with a tinge of frustration, his voice breaking the tranquil atmosphere. He hands the open diary back to you before rubbing his eyes wearily.

You can't help but notice the subtle movement of dark veins around his eyes, like ink spreading across a page. They're barely perceptible, but the sight still sends a twinge of unease through you.

"Yeah, that’s why I’m here, remember? Your Spanish is shit."

Leon emits a faint chuckle, so quiet that even in the closeness of your positions, it's barely audible. Shaking his head, he runs a hand through the mass of light hair, revealing beads of sweat on his forehead. Exertion fills the air around you as he moves.

"Right," taking a step back, the soles of his shoes crunch against the first floor. You sneak a peek at his arms; the veins, network of obsidian tributaries, ripple just beneath the surface of his skin, "Right."

"Did you find out Baby Eagle’s position?" you inquire, your voice echoing through the empty space.

Leon shakes his head, causing the pushed-back hair to fall back over his face, before he speaks again in a soft, hushed tone, "No; got a call from Luis. They’re hiding in the castle." His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, and you strain to hear him.

Speaking of Luis–

Looking back at the book in your hand, you remember the last passage. The first thing you read when you were left alone in this shed.

"About Luis," you murmur, your fingers deftly flipping through the pages until you reach the last inked page. Leon’s eyes follow your hands as you open the page, the words there shaky, the paper wrinkled and smudged with ink. It's like a relic from another time, something that has weathered the storm of time and come out the other side. Written in a hurry; but it’s there as you read it out loud, slowly translating the foreign language:

September 18, 2004

Today, another scientist arrived in this remote village. After a brief conversation about my project, he evaded my queries about his presence here. He divulged information about a private island facility and expressed a keen interest in developing a cure for the virus. However, I couldn't help but sense an underlying malice in his intentions towards the virus. I intend to find out more about this man.

Your eyes scan the smudged ink of another passage, attempting to make sense of the faded words, but it’s no use.

Back facing Leon, you speak, "That’s gotta be Luis, right?," voice filled with suspicion, "Two weeks ago, this García met Luis and now he’s gone. His personal belongings are all here - don't you think that's a little suspicious?"

A low groan interrupts your train of thought, causing you to furrow your brow.

"Leon?"

You turn around and watch as Leon stands a mere footstep before you. Palm resting on his forehead, eyes squeezed shut, you feel your heartbeat pick up; the veins now spreading like poison ivy, creating an intriguing mosaic. The ebony tendrils slither over his skin, covering his neck and sneaking inside the folds of his dirty shirt.

Another guttural growl emanates from his throat, so animalistic and raw that it sends shivers down your spine. Your hand instinctively reaches for Leon's blade, which was left on the table moments ago, while your other hand grips the wooden surface to steady yourself.

"Leon," you repeat in hopes to reach the man’s attention, "what’s wrong?"

Your attempts to reach him prove futile; you stand patiently, gaze firmly following his every movement–with a precise step, you stroll in front of him. Another guttural sound finds its way out of Leon as he moves his hands to his temples, pushing against the thin skin as if he could alleviate a headache.

As you watch, the veins around his eyes grow more prominent, twisting and pulsing like roots searching for water. Something inside him seems to be struggling to break free, a dangerous force waiting to be unleashed. With a sudden jerk, Leon looks up at you with an intense fervor; the sclera now twisted into a sickly yellow, the inky tendrils reaching towards his pupils, enveloping them in a macabre embrace.

"Leon!"

You take a step back as he lunges forward, his movements erratic and uncontrolled.

Anticipating a strike, you raise the knife, its point aimed at Leon’s upper body. Your heart jackhammer in your chest, you brace yourself for the attack; muscles coiled and ready for defence. But before you can make a move, Leon's hand is already on your wrist, his grip vice-like as he twists the blade away from you. You gasp in pain, feeling the sharp sting of the metal cutting into your skin.

The ground feels gritty beneath your feet as you struggle to maintain your balance, trying to free yourself from Leon's grasp. But the man seems to be in complete control, his movements fluid and effortless. Your heart races faster as you realize the danger you're in. This man could easily overpower you, could easily harm you if he wanted to.

A pained gasp leaves your tightening throat as Leon’s hot breath fans over your face. And then, without warning, his lips crash against yours.

It’s messy. Needy.

Wet.

Taken by surprise, your mind races; struggling to make sense of what’s happening. The taste of his lips is familiar, certainly not the first time he kissed you. But never like that – and never when infected.

You can taste the slight tinge of mint on his tongue as it sneaks inside your mouth. His hands, strong and calloused, grip your jaw, tilting your head as his hips back you against the table. Leon’s body easily keeps yours restrained, his body heat almost scorching you. You can feel his every move, every twitch of a muscle, every shiver that runs down his spine. It's like being consumed by a wild, untamed force that you can't resist.

The dominance in his behavior, the way he takes control and leaves you powerless and vulnerable; it all makes your mind fuzzy. A blank canvas.

For a moment, everything fades away–

–until the realization hits you.

He’s infected.

Pressing your palms firmly against his chest, your body freezes momentarily upon feeling the taut muscles of his breastplates before you push with all your might. He barely budges. Yet, when your lips momentarily separate, you manage to call out to him one more time, "Leon!"

His eyes open. Now clear, back to the blue as a tranquil ocean on a sunny day, the agitated storm within them subsided. He looks back at you.

"I’m so sorry," he mutters, his voice low and hoarse. You can see the fatigue etched into his features, the bags under his eyes betraying his lack of sleep. As he meets your gaze, his eyes plead for your understanding.

The sound of his groan echoes in your ears as you watch him crumble before you, his once-strong body now appearing weak. The taste of his kiss still lingers on your lips, a bittersweet reminder of what has just transpired. The dust swirls around him, adding to the already chaotic scene. You can feel your heart racing, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you try to catch your breath.

"Fuck, Leon," you hurry towards him.

You kneel beside him, eyes scanning his face for any signs of consciousness. His lips, bruised and swollen, part lightly as he takes a laboured breath. You can see the pain etched on his features, the lines on his forehead deepening with each passing second.

Minutes flow as you sit by Leon’s side, watching the dark veins fade slowly as he regains his strength. His chest rises and falls steadily now, the rest of his gear lying on the table alongside your gun. You take in the sight of him, his rugged features softened in the moonlight. His hair, disheveled and covered in dust, frames his face like a wild mane, adding to his already striking appearance.

You reach out to brush a strand away from his forehead, your fingertips tracing the curve of his cheekbone, tracing the areas recently covered in ebony veins.

As you sit there, the sounds of the night surround you–the chirping of crickets, the whispering of leaves in the wind. A cool breeze washes over you, the scent of earth and foliage filling your nostrils. You take a deep breath, the freshness of the air soothing your nerves.

But despite the calming surroundings, the sensation within you is like a storm raging inside, the winds tossing and turning your thoughts. Your body feels like a furnace, burning with a heat that can't be quenched. Heart beating faster, the thumping becoming almost unbearable as your body begins to ache with a deep, pulsing desire.

You try to shake it off, thinking it's just the adrenaline still coursing through your system, but the sensation only intensifies. Focusing on the sounds of the night, hoping they’ll calm down the tempest within; but even the gentle rustling of trees sounds like a deafening roar. The once refreshing gust that swept over you now feels like a tantalizing stroke, sending your nerves alight.

Confusion sets in as you start to feel an uncontrollable need for Leon, a hunger that you can't explain. You try to push it away, but the urge grows stronger with each passing moment until it consumes you completely. You begin to tremble, feeling as if you're on the brink of losing control.

You look down at Leon, feeling both embarrassed and ashamed. The urge like a vine, coiling around your body, tightening its grip with every passing second.

Hand reaching towards Leon’s, your fingers skim over his naked palm, the gloves previously protecting his hands now discarded on the table. His skin is cold to the touch, a stark contrast to the feverish heat that consumes your own body. Just as you’re about to give in to the fear, a twitch in Leon's hand catches your attention. His fingers curl around yours, gripping them tightly. His eyes slowly flutter open, revealing a deep shade of blue that glistens in the moonlight.

"You had me worried there for a moment," you say with a tight-lipped smile, elbows resting on your knees, fingers digging into the naked flesh there.

You feel like you’re burning. Hot coals pressed into your skin.

You take in his appearance, the way his hair’s matted and sticking to his forehead. Sweat beads on his skin, a testament to the fever that has been plaguing him. His skin’s still pale, but his eyes are no longer clouded with ferocity. They seem clear, focused, and alert.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs again, but this time his voice is stronger, more resolute, "I don’t know what that was."

"Don’t be," you reply gently. You try to comfort him with your words, hoping to ease his troubled mind.

"Let’s just find you a cure."

He nods before sitting up, his movements slow and deliberate. He looks fragile, like a delicate flower that might break with the slightest breeze.

"How long was I out?"

You let out a shaky breath, relieved that he's awake. "Not long," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. Your gaze returns to him, studying his features with an intensity that you can't explain. The sharp planes of his face, the way his jaw tenses as he speaks, the curve of his lips. You try to push the thoughts away, but they persist, like a buzzing fly that won't leave you alone.

"You good to get up?"

"Yeah," Leon exhales.

Dusting the dirt off your knees, you get up and reach out, helping him prop himself up, his body leaning against yours. The heat from his skin seeps into yours, soothing the burning that has been coursing through your veins–

–which doesn’t go unnoticed.

"You’re burning up," he notes. His knuckles lightly press onto the side of your neck, against the jugular vein. Heart thumping, you swallow as you feel the uncomfortable ache between your legs only intensify the longer Leon’s hand remains on your throat.

"Your heart rate’s elevated," his hand finally leaves your skin, "something’s wrong."

With a firm grasp on your upper arm and without much struggle from your side, he beckons you onto the table decorated with all your gear. Skin pricklening with sensation as he guides you onto the table – it’s old wooden surface creaking slightly underneath your weish as you settle onto its surface, feeling the rough wood groan underneath your palms.

The firm press of his hands on your ribcage is like a spark to a fuse, igniting a flame within you. The heat spreads throughout your body, intensifying with each passing moment. You bite down on your lip, trying to hold back the wave of desire that threatens to consume you.

"I’m alright," you assure him, trying to maintain your composure; yet you allow him his hands to roam over your body as if you were actually hurt.

Leon's eyes bore into yours, intense and unwavering. His sharp gaze betrayed his concern, a worry etched into the creases of his forehead. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, knowing that he was only looking out for you.

As you gaze at him, you notice the veins slowly returning to his skin; slowly faded over, the pinkish hue underneath his eyes seems to conceal them, but only from afar. Up close, you can see the delicate tracery of veins pulsating just beneath the surface of his skin.

"Are you sure?"

There’s worry evident in his voice as he rests his palms next to yours, enclosing you in his arms.

The weight of his touch’s comforting your heating body.

Your hand moves like a feather, tracing the intricate network of veins spreading across the contours of his face; his eyes flicker down, on your legs, as you stay mesmerized (and slowly being consumed by the raw power of your desire) by the way the veins seems to gain color, fill into the same darkness they were before, underneath your touch. As if they were following your lead.

Leon’s breath quickens as you continue. You try to steady yourself, to push back against the growing tide of desire that threatens to overwhelm you, but it's no use.

Leon's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and unwavering as the color regains its sickly yellow tone, thin black veins dancing inside his irises like ink on paper. You can see the concern there, the worry that something might be wrong, but you also see something else. Something that sends a thrill through you despite the situation. He's looking at you like he wants you, like he's been waiting for this moment for ages.

The air thinkens with a palpable tension as you both hold each other’s gaze, lost in the charged atmosphere between you. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the electricity in the air, the way your heart races in your chest.

"I’m fine," a faint breath leaves your parted lips when your thumb reaches the slightly wider black vein leading towards his lower lip.

Everything after that seems like a haze. As if you’re observing from afar. Watching a play unfold from the balcony. Detached.

Your lips lock with Leon’s with a wild, raw passion.

It’s fervent.

Intense and fueled by a primal yearning that’s been brewing inside you ever since he kissed you a mere hour ago. Your hands grip Leon’s shoulders, steadying yourself against the mass of muscle standing between your legs.

His kisses are searing – cardinal, almost animalistic and completely uncontrolled; fueled by crude desire that seems to consume him fully. He kisses you with reckless abandon, as if he can't get enough of you. His lips are hot and wet against yours, his breath ragged, and you can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he presses himself against you. It's like he's trying to meld his body with yours, to become one with you, and the sheer intensity of it all is almost too much to bear.

Leon’s hand roam over your body with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. Guttural, deep grunts reverberate through your body.

Hands reaching between your bodies, you tug at the shirt covering his torso – the fabric slides over his head like a curtain revealing a work of art. Taut muscles and veins ripple beneath his skin; your eyes pierce into his chest, the mosaic of black veins creating a network of rivers.

As you trace your fingertips over his skin, every nerve ending seems to come alive, humming with a primal energy that electrifies your senses. The heat emanating from his body is like a flame, casting flickering shadows across the walls of the room; his skin’s like silk, soft to the touch, but strong and sturdy underneath.

The scent of sweat and musk fills your nostrils, overwhelming and intoxicating, pulling you in even closer to him. It's like a drug, addicting and heady, and you can't seem to get enough of it. As you run your hands over his chest, feeling the muscles ripple under your touch, you can feel yourself losing control, your body responding to his in the most sensuous way.

Your shirt soon follows Leon's, falling to the ground in a heap as you find yourself back in the kiss. It's like a symphony of tangled limbs, gasping breaths, and frenzied moans, each one building on the last until you're both lost in a wild, primal dance.

"Fuck–"

Everything seems brumous.

A cloud of haze covering your brain.

Feeling the wetness pool between your legs, heart beating heavy and strong against your ribcage, Leon’s name escapes your mouth as his lips move down your neck, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses in their wake; the scrape of his teeth against your skin, nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

As Leon's fingers trace the contours of your curves, the sound of your ragged breaths fills the room, intermingling with the sound of his own. You find yourself lost in the sensation of his touch, the way his fingers seem to know exactly where to go, where to press, where to tease.

Your bodies collide with a force that leaves you gasping for air. Like the collision of two stars, sending shockwaves through the universe.

Unbridled desire. Wild, untamed dance of bodies.

No longer two separate beings, but a single entity, fused together in a frenzy of passion.

Leon's hands move with a speed and precision that makes your head spin, as he undresses you with an urgency that feels primal. His lips, soft yet insistent, cover yours in a heady, dizzying kiss that leaves you breathless.

It's overwhelming, intoxicating, and all-consuming–

–addicting.

The room spins as you lose yourself in the frenzy of desire. Every touch, every kiss, every breath ignites a fire deep within you, a hunger that can only be sated by this man before you.

His fingers find your cunt–wet, completely soaked as if you’ve already being fucked; yet he hasn’t even touched you.

"Jesus Christ," Leon groans upon the feeling of your slick walls enveloping his fingers, "you’re already soaked."

Head tilted back, your hips buck into his hand as he traces the length of your cunt, pressing his thumb against your aching clit. Pain shoots up your body, spreading like venom. It's almost too much, the intensity of it all, but you find yourself craving more, unable to resist the addictive pull that Leon has over you.

Sweet as poison.

A plague.

The tension in your muscles melts away with each inch of Leon’s fingers sinking inside you; a groan escapes your lips as sense of release washes over you; the tension in your body melts away, like ice thawing under a warm sun. Eyes closed, you focus on the sensation of Leon’s fingers pushing deeper, stretching you in a way that feels both strange and satisfying.

Your mind is clouded with a dizzying cocktail of lust and desire as Leon takes control, his touch igniting a fierce hunger that you can't ignore.

Your hand grips his hair, feeling the strands slipping between your fingers like silk. You pull him towards you, wanting to be as close to him as possible. His eyes meet yours, and you see the intensity in them, a hunger that matches your own.

"Fuck me, Leon—"

The words spill out of your mouth before you can even think. Your body has taken over, consumed by a desire that you can no longer control.

—you just can't help yourself anymore.

As Leon strips down, piece by piece, you find yourself drawn to the way his body moves with such fluidity. Your eyes take in every inch of him, from the rippling muscles to the way the light dances across his skin. Leon’s body completely covered by the system of ebony veins, your eyes following the lines for a second.

It's as if his body was made to be admired, and you find yourself doing just that.

The vulnerability of the moment is not lost on you, and the thrill of it all sends a jolt of excitement racing through your veins. Here you are, both of you completely naked, with nothing to hide. It's as if you've shed your layers of clothing and your inhibitions along with it, leaving only raw desire in its wake. The air between you is charged, electrified with anticipation and lust, and you can't wait to explore every inch of him.

Leon follows your order. Hand wrapping around his throbbing cock, your legs spread wider to accomodate his hips. Your eyes fixate on the thick, pulsating vein that runs along his length, now pitch black in color; like a lightning strike, surrounded by smaller ebony veins.

With each pump of his hand, the bulging head glistens with precum, taunting your hungry cunt.

His name leaves your mouth in a gasp as the tip brushes against your slick folds, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. His eyes meet yours, dark with desire and a hint of mischief, as he teases your entrance with the blunt head of his cock. His hips move forward, the tip disappearing inside you, stretching you wide with a delicious ache.

His arm reaches forward; guiding you down to lie onto the rough surface of the wooden table as he slowly splits you apart. The bark of the table scratches against your skin, adding an edge to the pleasure that courses through your body.

Once fully buried inside you, he stills.

Only momentarily.

As he sinks deeper, Leon's hand finds your collarbone, securing his grip. The roughness of his thumb grazes the sensitive skin of your throat as his hand sneaks underneath your knee to bring your legs higher – wrapping them around the narrow of his waist, you urge him deeper while wrapping your fingers around his forearm, feeling the muscles tense, veins darken.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare into Leon's eyes, now obscured by the black veins that writhe across the blue irises. The intensity of his gaze burns through you, stoking the flames of your desire to a fever pitch.

With a fierce growl, he ruts against you. Wild.

Leon’s a primal force, a beast unleashed, and you revel in the raw, savage power of his movements. His grip on your collarbone is almost painful, but you crave the sensation, the way it anchors you to the earth as he pounds into you with abandon.

Like an animal focused on breeding; there’s nothing but pure ferocity in the way his hips snaps against you–

– and you welcome it. Meeting his thrust.

The rough bark of the wooden table digs into your skin, but you barely register the pain as waves of pleasure wash over you.

Letting him absolute ravage you. Bring you to the brink of ecstasy way too soon. The smooth, velvety skin of his cock slides in and out of you, hitting all the right spots with unerring accuracy. You can feel the heat building inside you, the coil of pleasure winding tighter until it's all you can do to hold on.

The sight of him, his eyes dark and wild, the veins snaking across his skin like living things, only serves to stoke the fire inside you Moans mix with guttural noises; grunt, growls. Everything mixes together in one dance of primal breed.

Cock-drunk.

Fucked stupid.

That’s how you’d described the feeling when his thumb presses against the front of your throat, hooks underneath the necklace he gave you to your first anniversary.

String of curses, incoherent sentences and something vaguely resembling your name leaves Leon’s lips, painted over with black veins, eyes wide open and staring straight at you. His hand moves to toy with your clit; yet just the single flick, the rough touch uncoils the tightness inside your abdomen. Mouth open, back arched, a silent scream pushes itself out your throat.

But Leon doesn’t stop. The way your walls flutter, squeeze his cock only add to the primarity of it all. Securing his hand behind your neck, he lifts your body up, lips connecting with yours in a heated kiss as his thrusts increase.

A pathetic whine leaves your lips when he pulls back completely. Hands gripping your sides, you gasp when he single-handedly turns you around. Pain shoots through your body as he slams back inside you in one single thrust.

The table creaks and groans beneath the weight of your bodies as Leon relentlessly pounds into you.

His hips meet the flesh of your ass every time his cock kisses your womb – at least that’s how deep he feels. The air thick with the scent of sex, you groan when Leon’s hands grip your hips, forcefully pulling you towards his snapping hips to meet his thrust.

Slick with sweat, you can feel his body heat radiating against your own.

You reach one hand behind you in a feeble attempt to feel him underneath your palms. Nails digging into the wood, your fingers manage to sneak into his hair; grabbing a fistful, you force his face towards yours.

The muscles in your neck strain painfully as you tilt your head to the side to connect your lips in a teeth-clashing kiss – all while Leon’s hand sneak to tease your oversensitive clit while the other covers your hand on the table.

Meeting his thrusts, you stay in rhythm as you feel your high approaching again. Spreading your legs more apart, arching your back, the new angle allows Leon to hit deeper. To split you apart.

"Fuck!"

The pain mixes with pleasure, and you can't help but cry out in ecstasy.

"Oh my god–"

His teeth sink into your flesh, the stinging ache sends you over the edge. It feels almost as if he managed to break the skin atop. With each thrust, it felt like he was hammering against the tight seal of her womb, trying to break through it with sheer force.

The room echoes with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he relentlessly pounds into you. His cock feels like a battering ram, delivering a punishing blow with every thrust. You can feel the impact reverberate through your body, causing you to shudder and gasp for air. It's as if he's trying to breach the walls of your very being, to leave his mark on you in the most primal and intimate way possible.

"Fuck; Leon–’m gonna cum–gonna–"

You feel your cunt pulce around him, like a drumbeat racing against his teeth sinking into your delicate skin. A surge of ecstasy floods your veins, a heady cocktail of pleasure and victory that weighs heavily on your mind like an anchor.

You arch your back, pushing against his chest and whispering his name into the frosty night air as his thrusts become unsteady.

Leon's tongue traces the bite mark he left on you, hands gripping you tightly as he drives himself deeper into your slick heat. His groans mix with the sound of flesh smacking together, his balls slapping against your wetness with each thrust. You cry out as he sends you spiraling into another wave of pleasure.

As he moves inside you, you can feel every inch of him. His muscles ripple against your skin and his breath is hot on your neck. His hands grip you tightly, pulling you closer and deeper onto him.

You convulse around him, your body responding to his every touch. His groans intensify, as he thrusts even harder into you, giving into the raw passion between you. He pulses deep inside of you, filling you up with his warmth.

"Fuck!"

As he moans out your name, his lips trace a path across your skin leaving a trail of wetness. You can feel the heat emanating from his hands as he grips you tightly, branding you with his touch. His body trembles as he savors the last remnants of pleasure, and the evidence of his desire stains your insides like a lustrous sheen of polished marble.

He’s branded you inside and out.

Infected you with his venom.

Your skin is hypersensitive to his touch, as if each nerve is its own entity, firing off signals that jolt through your entire body. The dull ache of pleasure and pain radiates from the points where he grips you, leaving you feeling like a canvas painted in shades of blue and purple–

–and black.

As his weight presses down on you, you feel a dull ache spread through your body, every nerve ending alive and sensitized from his touch. You can still feel the ghostly imprint of his fingers on your skin, branding you with his touch.

His forehead is hot against your shoulder, the dampness of his breath tickling your skin as he rides out the last waves of his release. Each thrust feels like a punch to your gut, leaving you reeling and gasping for air.

The sticky wetness between your thighs is a testament to his desire, a reminder of how deeply he claimed you as his own. You feel the pulse of his spent cock still buried inside you.

Your gaze follows the lines of black veins snaking up his forearm, a stark contrast to his now pinkish skin. You watch as they slowly fade from sight, disappearing like a memory slipping away. Each movement feels heavy, weighted down by the aftermath of his passion.

After a while, Leon finally withdraws from you, a pang of loss echoes through your body, leaving you empty and longing for more of his touch. The heat of his body lingers on yours, branding you with his mark and making it hard to differentiate where his skin ends and yours begins.

You close your eyes, still feeling the ghostly touch of his lips and fingers on your skin, as if he's imprinted himself upon you forever. The room is filled with the heavy scent of sex, a reminder of the raw passion that just transpired.

[hollowtakami]

Hii! I followed you from an old account that for some reason didn't let me make requests, but now I went back to my hawks era and with it came my obsession with his fics.

Aniwaaays, me and reverse comfort are one, so I was wondering if you could show how reader (s/o) comforts Hawks after suddenly reuniting with his father or just see a photo of him. like, idk brings back a lot of bad memories for him and I would like to see some of it if it's not too much trouble <3

I love You btw, and sorry if i bother u with this

content: mentions/implications of child abuse/trauma, reverse comfort, keigo has c-ptsd, him and reader are both trying their best

a/n: hiya anon! it’s no problem at all, i will always enjoy answering asks and writing for my darling kei<3 and thank you sm, that really makes me smile to know that people genuinely enjoy my work! ^^

Keigo saw so much flash before him every time he blinked.

He remembered the way his teeth would grit when he squawked, spat; the way his hands looked before they came down crashing, a tsunami of scarred skin that would scar him just the same.

Be it physically, or mentally.

Keigo found himself paralysed by the picture, printed in black and white. It might as well have been blood soaked into the newspaper, crumbling in the hero’s faltering grip.

For a moment, the avian wasn’t sat at the table with a breakfast, made with love, laid out like a declaration. But for a second, he was a beaten fledgling who’d been plucked of his autonomy.

Keigo blinked. He was holding a newspaper, he was not there.

The poor baby bird on the floor had dared to get up, the one wing that still flapped crushed under the boot of his father.

He was eating breakfast, the sun was on his skin.

Keigo was not there, physically.

You were surfing some butter around a pan, ready to make some scrambled eggs for you and your boyfriend. Letting the butter melt for a moment, you smiled.

Turning around, you beamed, “I’m using butter for the eggs this time, not oil, just like Fuyumi told me!”

Mentally, Keigo was there.

Noticing the way your partner looked as though he had been turned to stone, your heart grew cold. You switched off the gas hob, almost gliding through the kitchen to the dining table where Keigo sat, paralysed.

“Baby?” You whispered, your words falling on death ears.

The newspaper shook in the avian’s hand, your eyes flicking to the front page. There he was, Keigo’s father; Takami The Thief.

When he was drowning under the surface of his anxiety, you knew better than to startle him. You pulled out a chair and sat beside him. Your hand gently covered his like unexpected snow. You felt how cold his skin was, be it from the morning breeze or the fear laced in his blood.

“You’re home, birdie,” you said, clearly. “He’s not here, he never will be.”

Your words were firm, and for a moment you swore you felt Keigo’s fingers twitch under the blanket of your hand.

“I- I feel like, like I can’t breathe,” was all Keigo could say.

You inched closer to Keigo, wrapping your arms around him. Careful not to touch his plumage, as to not trigger him further, you squeezed him in your embrace.

“Smell the flowers, spread the pollen,” you gently instructed, “just like the therapist taught you, yeah?”

Keigo inhaled sharply through his nose, a shaky breath leaving his open mouth soon after.

The two of you repeated these steps together, completely forgetting about your cold breakfast waiting for you on the stove.

“I promise you, Keigo,” you lifted up his bangs, kissing his forehead. “I’m not gonna let him get to you.”

[ierr]

❥# — 𝘐𝘯𝘧𝘰 slightly dirty, manipulation?, toxic relationship, stalking, choking, degradation?, cheating

☆ — 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 after breaking up with dabi, he doesn’t take It too lightly, and decides to claim what’s his again.

❣︎ — 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 finally started watch mha again. and l forgot how FINE most of these characters are 😩 but I lowkey got lazy at the end so I apologize:( but next story is going to be about shigaraki!.

this is for all my dabi fan girls 🫡.

𝑫𝑨𝑩𝑰 (𝑻𝑶𝑼𝒀𝑨 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑶𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑰) 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕

dabi was extremely manipulative. during and after the relationship. during, It had there rough moments, always arguing, jealousy, cussing each other out etc etc bit despite those bad moments you guys had happy ones too. always cuddling each other, kissing, in general being love birds that made the league gag in disgust. though the relationship was a bit toxic..it did take you some time to build up the courage to break up with him. why? well because you loved him, so much that it hurt. you would assume he was like this because of his trauma but at the same not. you couldn’t lie to yourself and say you don’t miss him because fuck you do,

the day when you got the courage to break up the relationship dabi thought you would come running back but after 6 months going onto 7..he was slowly getting Irritated. can’t lie, you felt relieved but also lonely not going home everyday to see his pretty face already there waiting for you. but during the whole time he stalked you throughout the six months, seen you've gotten a new job as a secretary at a office building with a nice paying rate, you live In a nice neighborhood now, and even got yourself a new play thing. he hated It. hated seeing you with another man that’s not him. the day you ran into him and started fucking around was the day you signed an unbreakable contract.

when your shift had ended for the day you said bye to all your coworkers making your way home. It wasn't as busy considering It's a friday night and everyone was home resting, walking freely making your way down the street. you hummed a small tune, five minutes going by making It to your door step, unlocking the door entering your home. you turned around to lock your door, dropping your bag next to where your shoes were going to go to the kitchen before you felt a warm hand on the back of your neck with a body pressing behind you, "you're still unaware around your surroundings huh?." that voice..your hands clenched together with wide eyes, no. It couldn't?. "you miss me doll?." he chuckled hearing a small gasp, you were defenseless. against him you were a dove In a hawks grip. you swallowed that giant lump In your throat, fists clenching together "what do you want." he could hear the snarl In your voice only chuckling, flipping you around harshly pinning you against the door. facing him. those blue teal eyes..haven't seen those since you've last seen him.

still attractive as ever.

he smirked seeing you eye him, trying so hard to look at him with hate but knowing you? you were easy to see through, you missed him but trying so hard to deny It. "you want me to be honest or lie to you?." you furrowed your eyebrows glaring at him. "like you've never lied to me before.." you spat, dabi raised a brow shrugging, "but you've always fell for It dove. you used to listen to everything I said to you, lie or not." your nails digged Into your palm remembering those memories, the deep memories you wanna keep locked away, "what're you getting at dabi." he hummed. "I've been watching you dove. got a new job at an office building as a secretary, moved Into a nice place..even got yourself a little boyfriend huh?." this bastard still hasn't changed a bit. you tsked. "and what If I did? that's non of your busin —!.” you choked on a gasp getting cut off from your sentence feeling his hand on your throat squeezing It but not hard enough to close your air pipe, just enough to shut you up. your eyes widened. those bright teal eyes were now darkened and serious. a look he gave you when you broke up with him. "just to get this clear doll, the day you slept around with me was the day you signed an unbreakable contract." — he leaned closer towards your ear leaving shivers to run up your spine, "you're mine and no matter how much you try to deny it baby It’s all a lie."

you wanted to argue back but..

seeing that look on your face proved him right. he chuckled moving his hand to your cheek placing his thumb on the bottom of your lip slightly opening It leaning In close, “wanna know something sweetheart?.” you grumbled. but he was going to say It anyways, “those nights where you would finger your little hole, I watched It all.” seeing your reaction he hummed, “every night I can practically hear your needy moans..legs spread open with your fingers deep In your pussy. wishing, It was me instead. Isn’t that right?.” whenever you got hot and bothered thinking too much Into the past this is the result of that, you admit. you did wish It was him Instead, of your useless fingers. the guy— ur boyfriend that fucks you everytime couldn’t provide your needs like dabi could. and you guessed you could see he realized that seeing his face. dabi laughed with a scoff, “bastard can’t even fuck you right can he?.” you groaned feeling his other hand slide between your thighs, dabi chuckled leaning in, “I’ll treat you right, bet you’re so pent up huh?.” without saying much more he placed his lips against yours. you hated how much effect he has on you.. the moment he kissed you, you kissed him back missing the way he used to touch you like this, dabi smirked Into the kiss, picking you up by your thighs whimpering In his mouth. "see?." he teased pulling back from your mouth placing you on the bed going to take off his shirt, you snarled bucking your hips up with a small moan. “shut the fuck up and jus’ fuck me already you bastard..” dabi threw his shirt off to the side going to unbuckle his pants looking at you with a lustful gaze tilting his head to the side, “trust me baby.”

“I am.”

[fireboltcrystal]

The Mishandling of Varric Tethras

How Dragon Age: The Veilguard utilized a fan favorite, only for the worst....

Just a little bit more salt. I wasn’t initially going to post anything else, but I kept thinking about all the things that have frustrated me about vg. & the one that just keeps driving me insane, is how Bioware treated and used Varric in The Veilguard. I just wanted to expand/rant a little more about my disappointment and disgust. Both in what was done to Varric and how it shows off the cracks in vg’s understanding (lack) of characterization.

WARING, SALT, BASIC CRITIQUE, WITH BIOWARE/VG BASHING + IT’S LONGER THAN I INTENDED, SORRY)

~

For consideration; first I admit fully I did not play The Veilguard, I watched a friend who is also a fan, play the game from beginning to end, alongside watching others live-stream the game. Re-watching clips and reading story summaries for clarification.

I’m not a lore expert by any means, I will occasionally investigate other parts of the series for fun. But I mostly know about the series from playing the games. Extend universe is fun but should not be necessary. Plus, I should not have to pay potentially $100+ for a game and its extended universe of comics and novels, just to talk about my opinion on disappointing story aspects.

Second, I’m not a professional or semi-professional writer. So, pardon for any mistakes.

Third, Varric Tethras is my favorite character of the Dragon Age series. My bias will be on full display.

Does this all mater, no but I want to be honest just in case other fans find this and think I am trying to ‘stir the pot’ and make people who were somehow able to enjoy vg sad.

Truthfully, I do not care if anyone reads this. I just needed to compartmentalize my feelings beyond trying to only ignore and move on. Also, if you do not like Varric, fine but please don’t waste your time commenting on how you hate him. It is annoying and pointless. I do not care, have a nice day, anyways.

Character Background:

(feel free to skip to the next part, if you don’t want a refresher)

From the song 'Companions',

Varric charms with clever words

Vender of exotic goods

Writer of salacious books

A rogue, a dwarf with ragged looks

Varric Tethras is the rouge, dwarven companion of da2 and dai. Second son and first of his family to be born on the surface. Scion of House Tethras, which once held prominence in the underground kingdom of Orzammar. Which now resides in the Free Marches, city state of Kirkwall after scandal had the family banished. Though Varric does not come off as really interested in the traditions of his family’s homeland or following heavily in the faith of ‘The Stone’.

He is ironically a deeply ‘human’ character; as cunning as he is compassionate. A merchant prince with a decent ‘spy network’ (though has a difficult time not being worried about his agents). Known for wielding his signature crossbow, named Bianca; he clashes with his elder brother Bartrand and the Dwarven Merchants guild and holds a substantial tab at the “The Hanged Man” tavern. He also to extent is Andrastian, though not as pious that is traditionally acceptable. He frames it more so as enjoying an ‘great story’. But he does speak on the life of prophet, Andraste with far more understanding than even some of the most faithful characters can. Could it just be storytellers’ intuition or maybe more…

Segway into the fact that he is also a serial novelist, who writes everything from crime dramas, epics, to romances novels. He is a deeply ‘romantic’ person, loyal to friends and those he loves, at a times to a fault. Varric is a self-described liar but it never feels deeply malicious. Only as way of obfuscating when dealing with painful memories, hiding info to protect his friends from and to optimally fuck with the Chantry. His friendship with Hawke, is so close to point that he was willing to lie to the Chantry guard, and put his life and freedom on the line to protect them.

Another major example would be in his tempestuous relationship, with Bianca Davri; a dwarven engineer of tremendous skill. Though we do not get all the details as it is part of the Bianca, the crossbows naming, ‘the one story he will never tell’.

What we do get is a very complicated affair. Were the two honestly should and in some parts have already moved on from each other. It is mature, messy, and shows a flaw in his character; that though he lives in the present, he can be weighed down by his past mistakes.

-

Game-wise, in da2 he is the unreliable narrator for the story of Hawke and a rouge companion. As his background as a storyteller, he spins a yarn to Seeker Casandra Pentaghast, about the Champion of Kirkwall. Along with has a part in the main quest that ties into his relationship and ultimate the fate of his brother, Bartand. He can potentially become either a best friend or a rival to Hawke.

In dai he is again a rouge companion, initially ‘arrested’ by the Chantry, he joins the Inquisition to help save Thedas. He has a substantial role in the story; he acts as a re-introduction to Hawke (and can affected by their potential fate later in the story) and the main antagonist, Corypheus (featured in da2 dlc). Along with he is a first-hand witness to the dangers and damage red lyrium can cause. This also includes a connecting quest to destroy lyruim deposits, to which we can even finally meet the mysterious Bianca herself. He can become another friend with high approval or he can become disillusioned with the Inquisitor if low.

In Trespasser/post-game, we learn that he has been chosen to become the Viscount of Kirkwall and though the job drives him nuts; he shows a genuine zeal for the position. In the both the power he utilizes to make genuine changes for the city that he loves and to abuse it, as an excuse to give his friends ‘free shit’. Including bestowing the Inquisitor a title, estate, and key to the city (or mechanism to control the giant-ass chains lol).

~

Quick moment of positivity before vg proper, I will say I think Varric’s new design works for an older interpretation of the marksman. He has his fundamental details, the leather coat, ring necklace, obvious flash of chest hair and of course crossbow Bianca. But the new additions like the Inquisition belt buckle and the three, crossed facial scars are nice touches to his look. Minor criticism, a little confused at hair color change, but hair can turn darker as one ages, and the gray does look great on him. A little less okay with is the beard, in part since Varric known to be indifferent to the traditions of Orzammar, like having a longer beard. Prior games his face is shaven or with very faint scruff. But I can also see it as him leaving it to the way side during the hunt for Solas. Also, he is missing his three earrings, Bioware what did you do with the man’s jewelry!

VG Prologue:

Varric’s introduction in the game starts at the beginning of new protagonists Rook. In a nameless bar in Minathous. Rook can choose to react with wordplay or violence. After which Varric, chilling out in corner (which he should, let that old dwarven man rest!) comments on how Rook handled themselves in the standoff/scuffle and how they are his second in command (woof sheesh, tough break Harding). Without any time to spare they are off to find their contact.

Fist off: The bond that Rook and Varric have; is that there's kinda isn't. Normally a player is introduced to character and we naturally grow interest with them, through game play and conversation.

But in vg there is no built up, it’s all a preset relationship. “I know your can do this, you’re the best, Kid,” blah blah. Other than a few half-baked dialogue choices that pretty amount to nothing. There is no moment to talk with him, ask him questions beyond getting the main story into motion (all go, go, go find this person, here, that, there & etc.).

Something separate I bring up, not only to Varric and Rooks ‘relationship’. But an issue that I could have actually help (a little bit) of vg’s starting issues.

Why the fuck are the devs. so terrified of the original Origins.

Because this is the game that probably needed those kinds of intros back, more than ever. Be it for players returning (or first introductions) to the world of Thedas. & no, the half-baked, faction summaries are not enough when most of them barely factor into how you build and detail out your background. Some factions like the Shadow Dragons get just a few scraps to role-play or as everyone I have seen and spoken to has said that the Lord of Fortunes might as well have been cut completely, there is so little.

It feels so hollow to have hardly any dialogue choices to help flesh out Rook as a different character. Instead, they are a carbon copy personality dumpster fire, bland in a way a single-cell hero could be. Quippy and Inhuman.

Now back to Varric; how in the world do they know each other, why did they join in with the Inquisition or what remained of it, how did Varric end up deciding on a chess themed nickname, all these question & more could have been answered with a character Origin! *hooray* (Wow, look at that!)

In this have Varric play the role of recruiter like Duncan. He will meet the players, intro into combat, have quick convos on what the hell is going on, speak to the people and to show off a part of the world.

But in this case to create the foundational bond between the new player character and now mentor, Varric. So that if there are any dramas moments, the player will actually feel, if or when an npc is in peril…

But instead, the dev. team opted to just simply have Varric already know Rook, no build up required. Just a pre-established association with no real input from the player. Which creates a disconnect, new players are not going to automatically know who the hell Varric is. Most will just roll with it, so to finally get to the game proper, but it will not add up down the line…

For returning players, the writers did something kind of nasty on reflection; they used our nostalgia to do the heavy lifting of character development. We do not get to know Varric as a new person, just as extended cameo (which happens to other characters in vg). That one we are only able to understand because of playing the previous games, who though had their own development woes, still had developers with their priorities straight when creating them, its world, and its characters.

So if you are not a fan or feel neutral about Varric. Rook has a casual-esq working relationship with him. Clean, bland, sanitized (like the rest of the game).

But if you are a fan of him, it ends up feeling like an old friend you have lost contact with and now you have become different person (literally) but with the nostalgia strangling you. Varric feels slightly the same, but older, exhausted and one who’s writers should have let gently retire years ago…

It feels sad and lackluster in comparison to how full and interesting his prior introductions were.

Da2 had two Varric intros; first with his arrest and interrogation, he becomes the narrator of the game, though under distress. It creates mystery, why is this guy being dragged around though a dungeon, what has he done, does he know something, or maybe someone…

But in-game proper, after Hawke’s failed meeting with Bartrand. Varric stops a pickpocket from running off with Hawke’s stolen coin purse, he lands a bolt into the thief, taking back the money, punching them out for the trouble and returning the coins with a flourish. They talk about his brother and their plans to venture into the Deep Roads for fame, glory but money for profit.

You get a little taste of both points, Varric brought low and also at the top of his game.

In dai slightly similar but without the framing device, Varric is fighting alongside Solas (oh we will get to you). & after sealing the tear, Varric introduces himself, there is even a dialogue choice where he compares himself to us as we are both technically prisoners to the Chantry, though his arrest by Cassandra is kind of null after the explosion. It helps build a link between him and the prisoner, later Inquisitor. For new players, you get to see peak Varric charm. But also perfect for old players ready to bond with him again, after so long and to a forge a connection with a brand-new protag.

With this we not only see that Varric still has his wicked charm, but that others also react to it, Solas chuckles (heh) with a snide remark, when we say we are pleased to meet him and Cassandra’s frustration at his arrogant charisma is so endearing, for both characters. (Cassandra and Varric, have genuinely some of the best character interactions of the entire series, I will fight anyone on that).

~

Moving ahead since more of the dialogue after meeting Harding and Neve, is mainly, taking about state of Minrathous and needing to stop Solas. We reach the ritual site in the Arlathan forest... Before confronting the Dreadwolf, can either choose to support or convince against Varric talking Solas down. Regardless of choice, he still goes on head.

Varric is a man whose friends have become his family. He feels that he must try at the very least talk with Solas. Though it does go against his reactions to Solas being an agent of Fen'Harel; back in Trespasser (but I think the team kind of forgot most of the character motivations they established…).

Regardless Varric confronts Solas while the team try to stop the ritual and hold off the demons. Though I hate the result, I kind of liked the scene at first, Varric’s cheeky grin calling Solas, ‘Chuckles’ was a great touch. Especially since the two did have slight back and forth friendship in dai.

& the reaction Solas has when he sees Varric is excellent, first annoyance at who would dare distract him, then shock with a little bit of sadness when it sees who it is, but then returns into haughty determination.

But I think this is indicative how better the characters of the prior games and the weight of established relationships are from this scene. Like if Veilguard is your first game in the series, this entire scene means practically nothing other than, a super intense moment between ex-friends (where the world is at stake).

But gravitas of these two characters, the performances of their actors and the tiny shred of decent writing. Probably tricks a lot of newcomers into thinking this will be a far deeper story than it actually is…

So, after a back-and-forth, Solas will not see reason and Varric aims Bianca and Solas destroys the crossbow (I’m still devastated at the loss of such an iconic weapon). During which the ritual is disrupted, Varric attempts to stop it further by attempting to grab the ritual dagger from Solas’s, in turn Solas stabs Varric. He falls, and we are uncertain of his fate. Ancient elves Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan escape the fade and Rook loses consciousness.

The Rest of the Game:

After the ritual Rook awakens in the Lighthouse, to see a bandaged-up Varric. He looks awful and is noticeably in pain. But something is bizarre, something doesn’t seem right, his tone is off, it’s unnatural.

Other companions, seem to speak or react to him. I kept thinking why doesn't any look at him. No scenes of characters visiting him, to see how he's feeling. Nothing.

Let me tell you before I learned the truth, I was so fucking relieved to see he was alive. After all the dodgy trailers, on which Bianca being destroyed. I was just so happy to see him alive, that I didn’t see the signs. I thought maybe we would check in on him over time and watch him heal. Maybe there would be point before the end where we see him hang up his leather duster and return to Kirkwall as Viscount accepting that his adventuring days are at end. & in turn pass on the mantle of leadership to this current party. For Rook to step out and up as the new protagonist… But we will get to the full truth later.

So from now till the end Varric has two functions in vg: narrator again, but without the same wit or gravitas of da2.

& sort of back seat hype man, he is mainly resting in a dark corner of the new base, the Lighthouse. His conversations are essentially recaps of main quests, occasional references to the prior games, what the dev. team must have thought were oh so clever hints to Varric’s death (as clever as a cinder block) and then pseudo-HR training about how “Rook is the leader, and you are a part of team, and you got to work together,” yada yada…

Ultimately meaningless moments, awkward and stilled, hamstrung by vg’s blunt force repetitive dialogue.

Now to his final part in this story, close to end game Rook is trapped in a fade prison by Solas (who fell for the dumbest trick, who also can be tricked in return, wtf) they are confronted by companion(s) that were killed during a prior quest.

And here is the big revel, that Varric had died after being stabbed by Solas at the beginning of the game.

The real Varric died at the ritual site…

So, anytime that Rook spoke to him, it was not actually Varric the man, the dwarf, the living person.

Honestly, I do not know entirely what was talking to Rook.

At first, I thought he was illusion created by Solas to fuck with Rook. Maybe a shade made from a spirit (like dai where a spirit &/or Divine Justinia helps the Inquisitor). Or more likely a figment created by Rook from their repressed grief after Varric was murdered. (Honestly this is all embarrassing, like who ever wrote this, along with anyone else who let it go to print should be ashamed of themselves and then fire their therapist...)

They have an awkward come to Jesus’ moment about accepting grief (um, ok) and a stilted, rushed good bye.

(Oh and there is one moment right before the end credits where Varric appears in the clouds like he’s Mufasa or something idk; just a final slap in face before game ushers you out the door.)

~

Final Feelings and Frustrations:

So most of his inclusion of the game was not even but a hallucination, a mere idealistic interpretation of him, always supportive, always accepting, and empty.

A fandoms interpretation, a wasteful dev. teams idea.

Used as ‘character development’ for a mediocre protagonist.

Rook is as heroic as wet rag and as interesting as a rubber dumbbell.

What a tragic waste of one of the series most iconic characters…

-

Varric being killed off and used a lesson in accepting grief, was one of the most meaningless acts of literal character assassination and emotional manipulation I have ever seen a team of writers pull in some fucking time.

I would not be surprised if that was Bioware's excuse for not wanting to write anything more complicated or interesting. That they only did it for a cheap cameo and had Varric be a sacrificial lamb to create ‘tension’ between Rook and Solas.

Which can I just say for a dev. team as notoriously ‘chronically online’, the fact that they couldn’t see how a loud subset of the fandom, who are willing to forgive literally any if not all of Solas’s actions, including being involved in the death Varric, another fan favorite, is cosmically laughable.

Solas’s could turn an entire box of puppies to stone and he would be forgiven at large; esp. if it was framed as him doing it for the sake of the Elvhenan. Like please be real Bioware, you made a sympathetic villain. Fucking own up to it, you guys could not have been this delusional (though your interviews do say otherwise).

It is sooo bizarre, like does this current team even like these characters (the series even), supposedly in the development in the prior games, Varric was constantly being talked about like his time was up (like why, you made him a charming fella, what are players supposed to do, not want to friends with the guy!). They even had very early ideas for a dlc where you could romance him (I will morn this loss forever), but that he would potentially die at the end… (fml)

Hell, even Solas in this game; that was once titled as ‘Dreadwolf’. has this constant feeling from the writing that the team both adores him but also fucking hates him. Like, “Please keep talking bald elf man you have so many fans willing to pay full retail price; but also shut the hell up and begone to the shadow dimension!”

I mean, I am not a huge fan of Solas personally, but I am genuinely surprised at how many of his actual fans could be okay with Bioware’s meager crumbs. (idk toxic positivity, maybe sunk cost fallacy)

Like at one point this guy was THE main antagonist and beyond! Elven spies, manipulating nations, sowing discord to the create the perfect environment to tear down the Veil! But nope, just nothing really. Stuck in the Fade, being a big sad boy.

Strikingly bland here, esp. in comparison to the real intensity brought forth at the end of Trespasser.

[Bonus: After her threat in dai, I would not be surprised if Bianca found a way of going into the fade just so she could beat the ever-loving shit out of Solas (and all Inquisitors) for getting Varric killed.]

~

An Idea for a Thematic Polarity:

Of clinging to the nostalgic past, how to accept a conflicted present & to move forward into an uncertain future.

Solas is a person fixated on the ideal of a post-Elvenuris past. A past that never actually came to be and desires to bring it to fruition, even if means potentially destroying world. He even dissociates from the people of the ‘Dragon Age’ because, he cannot visualize them a fully fledge people. This can change, but he still goes for it. He knows there will untold death and destruction, but refuses to let go of the world before. In a better written story, he could’ve still becoming one with the Veil. After further being confronted by the reality that you cannot return the past, not like it once was. But let go for the sake of protecting those who live here and now, to go on, learn the past and make a better world for everyone.

Varric also clings to the past; even his place as a storyteller is him dramatizing, sensationalizing events, real or otherwise. He glosses over painful memories, adjusts for the audience (but mostly himself). But he is also a man who has not abandoned the present or even the future. He lives still gathering info. for his next bestseller. He is deeply conserved for the living; friends, citizens of Kirkwall and beyond. And if there is nothing to be done, we might as well take a break for now and play a round of Wicked Grace.

The team could have done things much different in the finale to Varric. They could have Varric be (actually) injured during the ritual. After which he decides to retire, he is not getting any younger and returns to Kirkwall as Viscount. Passing the torch to the next generation of heroes and storytellers.

He has sort of given up on Solas, not his friend, (he will always care about his friends) but in the hunting of the Dreadwolf, the two Elven ‘gods’ and their double-Bight. He could continue working to make Kirkwall into a bastion of the Free Marches, improving the lives of the citizens and the city he takes so much pride in.

(well ignoring the destruction of Southern Thedas, god so pointless and vindictive on the part of the devs…)

He could have still been the narrator but from a tangible distance. Only retelling it from second hand accounts, etc.

Or maybe just a lore drop, a supportive letter that finds it's way to Rook with some words of encouragement.

But all that is for head-cannons, fanfictions and fan art.

~

So with that, moving forward I think I am going to be a little of both, I will go into the future, beyond the disappointments of Bioware and The Veilguard. To different studios and new series.

But I will still continue to always love and enjoy, Varric Tethras and the Dragon Age Trilogy.

Thank you very much, either to the void or to any one for taking the time to read this mess.

[terrarain]

seasons of love

characters: todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, takami keigo

summary: four seasons, four guys. different drabbles based on the season.

notes: reader's pronouns unspecified, swearing, it's entirely fluff! mentions of a reader with a pollen allergy in keigo's, some possessiveness in bakugou's for like one line, ticklish reader in shinsou's

word count: 4.5k

ˏˋ°•*⁀☂️ spring; takami keigo

Keigo didn't see much appeal in the rainy showers that May would bring. The rain had an unpleasant tendency to wash away traces of villain activity; it was a criminal's best friend. Activity in the streets were always lower when it was raining. People weren't as alert.

So he doesn't really get it when you're tugging at his sleeve with a cute pout that. As he stares at your jutted out lip, he has the oddest desire to bite it.

"Please. It'll be fun."

"Alright, consider me convinced, birdie."

All you had to do was say please with wide eyes and pouty lips and he was done for. Keigo's sure that Miruko would laugh her ass off at how easily Keigo acquiesced to all of your requests. Good thing for him, then, that the rabbit hero was nowhere to be seen.

And so that's the explanation behind why Keigo, the number two hero Hawks who was currently on a break, is currently walking next to you. In one hand, he's holding a well-loved umbrella and his other hand...

Golden eyes linger on the free hand at your side, swinging forward and back as you practically skip along the rain-washed sidewalk.

The hand that's not holding the umbrella twitches.

"You really like the rain."

"It's the best part about spring."

The beaming smile that you send his way makes Keigo feel all melty inside with affection. A part of him is glad that his wings have been reduced to just a few feathers at the moment. He has a feeling that, if his wings had been full, they'd be puffing up an embarrassing amount right about now.

He cocks his head to the side slightly. "Not the flowers?"

"The flowers are nice, too. But they make my allergies act up and those aren't much fun."

Keigo recalls memories of you in past springs, nose all runny and red, eyes slightly teary.

"But you're cute when you're sniffling," he teases, trying for a flirty smile. You just roll your eyes playfully.

"You won't be saying that when I'm constantly blowing snot into tissues."

You'd still be cute in his eyes. He's seen you a snotty mess before, when you got sick one time, and Keigo couldn't help but think that you looked stunning.

"You look beautiful all the time."

"Yeah, yeah, you flirt," you laugh, unconvinced.

Shit, he thinks distantly. I'm down real bad.

Keigo hadn't been saying that just to flatter you. He really did think that you were the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes upon. Anybody who said otherwise was just wrong. They'd have to be blind to not recognize your beauty.

"Seriously," he insists. A flush takes over your cheeks, faint but still there. Keigo smiles to himself.

"Anyways," you fluster, walking a bit faster. He quickens his pace as well, careful to make sure that the umbrella that he was sharing with you was still covering you. He could feel his shoulder getting a little wet, but he didn't really care.

"So," Keigo drawls, one bushy brow raised. "Didja drag me out into the rain just so we could walk? I know I'm irresistible," an eyeroll from you, "...and that you want to spend more time with me, but we could just hang out at your apartment like usual."

"You're such a homebody," you muse. "Who knew that the flashy, number two winged hero Hawks is a shut-in."

"Hey," he says, not all that offended. "Your place s'real comfy."

And nobody expects anything of him when he's in the comfort of your well-lived in home. He's just Takami Keigo in private, cracking jokes and play-wrestling with you. Just another average joe who's hanging out with the love of his life a friend.

" 'sides," Keigo continues, looking over to you quickly. "I'm out here with you, aren't I? Even though I have no clue what you're up to."

"Oh, I never told you, huh?" you muse. The look in your eyes is playful, almost childlike.

"What schemes are you cooking up in that pretty little head of yours?" he questions, eyes slightly narrowed. He moves up a bit more to walk next to you when he sees a car approaching from behind. There's no puddles for the car to splash the two of you with, but better safe than sorry.

"You said that you've never played in the rain," is your non-answer.

Keigo does faintly recall telling you this. It had been a while ago, if he's remembering things correctly. You were working your magic in the kitchen while he was sitting at the counter as he watched when he had let this bit of information slip.

Ah, he realizes. "That's what all this fuss is about?"

"You're missing out," you insist when you hear his perplexed tone. "Right now, it's raining. And you're on break. So... now's a great time to take you out."

Keigo almost makes a joke about you taking him out in a different context — for a date.

The joke doesn't come. Instead, he just says: "Chickadee, I've flown through the rain. You're actin' like this is my first rodeo out in the rain."

You let out a little (cute) frustrated huff, eyes narrowing. Your arms cross as you speak. "Put the umbrella aside. We're going puddle jumping."

Keigo cocks a brow in questioning, "Uh, you sure? You'll get—"

"—wet?" you interrupt him as you bring the hood of your raincoat over your head. "That's what the coats are for."

"If you say so," he says, giving up easily enough as he brings the hood of his own raincoat up before closing the umbrella. Keigo really can't say no to you.

The two of you stand there under the rain. It's not particularly harsh, but it's definitely not a light drizzle, either. A scarlet red feather flies up to carry the umbrella that he sets to the side.

"So, what now, professor?" Keigo says, grinning. "Please do teach me about the joys of rainy weather."

"Gladly," you say as you offer him a hand. It only takes a nanosecond before his hand is in yours, his gaze expectant. The raindrops that fall onto the exposed skin are cool.

You tug at his hand, gentle, and he follows behind you like a lost puppy. Keigo finds himself feeling glad that there's nobody out at the moment — that there's nobody to disturb this moment between the two of you.

"Just gotta find..." you trail off, eyes scanning up ahead for something. Eventually, your aimless wandering becomes directed as you let out a small 'aha!'.

You're leading him towards a recently formed, sizeable puddle on the sidewalk.

"Are we going to—"

"Yes."

"Chickadee, we'll be soaked."

"Didn't take you to be such a party pooper," you tease, stopping right at the edge of the puddle as you look over to him.

Keigo gasps, offended. "Me? A party pooper? Why, I oughta—"

You don't wait for him to finish that sentence, jumping into the puddle in front of him with a lot more force than he thinks is necessary. The water comes up and out of reflex, his arms rise in a futile defense against the liquid.

"You were saying?"

"You are so cheeky," Keigo says fondly before he joins you in the puddle, jumping into the rainwater just as a child would.

He hears you let out a little squeal as water flies up towards you and Keigo grins, kicking some water at you as a form of payback.

"That's cold," you giggle, eyes bright.

"I said it'd be cold earlier while you were trying to drag me out," Keigo replies, letting you tug him out of the puddle as you begin searching for another puddle to jump into.

"Worth it," you declare.

He tilts his head curiously. "You're having that much fun?"

Your reply catches him off guard and he almost stumbles.

"It got you smiling again," you say easily, turning around a corner. Your face lights up when you see another untouched puddle. "Not one of those safe smiles. A smile smile."

"A smile smile," he echoes with vague amusement. His heart is fluttering and his cheeks are warming. Keigo, pointedly, does not acknowledge it. "Your descriptions could use some work."

"Oh, please, you get the point," you grin. "Now, come and help me ruin our jackets and boots more, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah," Keigo says, joining you in your adventures into the puddle of water while he thinks,

Maybe the rain isn't all bad after all.

ˏˋ°•*⁀☀️ summer; todoroki shouto

"Thank you! Come back again!"

Shouto one perfectly-shaped brow slightly as he glances over to you. You're waving to the person leaving with a sunny smile. In the sky, the sun had already started lowering.

"Are you doing this again tomorrow?" he questions. The hand that's waving stills momentarily before dropping back down to the table of the stand he sat at with you.

You lick your lips. On the table, you're twisting your fingers - Shouto recognizes it as one of your nervous habits.

"Um... well, you don't have to, if you don't want to."

Shouto shifts, gaze briefly flickering over to the bucket of icecream surrounded in his ice. He repeats his question, slightly reworded this time.

"Do you want to do this again tomorrow?"

Your eyes, Shouto thinks as he returns your stare, are something that he could gaze at for hours upon hours on end.

"I do," you admit, lips upturned in a shy smile. "Are you... free tomorrow?"

Shouto's hums as he leans forward a little towards you, chin in the palm of his hand. The darkening of your cheeks makes the smile on his face grow a touch wider. "I am, indeed, free tomorrow. I presume you will be enlisting my assistance as a personal cooler again?"

The little laugh that slips through your lips is light and breathless as you nod. "Mmhm. Really, thanks again for this, Todoroki."

"It's no problem," he says, and it really isn't. Although the request had been an odd one, he didn't particularly mind.

The request in question had been related to ice cream carts - which, to his understanding, are portable stands that sell ice cream. You had told him that you'd wanted to run one - but didn't have the money to rent one out. Shouto had been on the verge of offering to rent one for you when you had eagerly tugged him over to a makeshift stand.

"So, I decided to make my own!" you had told him a few hours ago. Your previously eager smile had turned sheepish when you made a request. "But I don't really have anything to keep the ice cream cool in the heat, so I.. I was wondering if you would be willing to be a cooler? You'll get half of the money the stand makes!"

Shouto would've provided his assistance regardless of whether or not you were paying him. He had said as much, but you insisted on paying him anyways.

"You're really sure you don't have anything else to do?" you question, frowning in concern. "It can't be that fun for you, sitting around at a table in the heat for most of the day."

"The heat doesn't really affect me," he says smoothly, smiling warmly as he looks at you. "And I think it's quite enjoyable. You're very good company."

"Oh-" you clear your throat, all flushed cheeks and giddy smiles. "You're good company, too, Todoroki."

His lips downturn. "Shouto."

The look you send him can only be described as bewildered.

"Call me Shouto," he clarifies. "We are close enough for you to refer to me as such, no?"

He tilts his head when you stare at him with wide eyes.

"Then - you can call me by my given name, too," you say shyly. When he says your name out loud, you nod slightly. "That's me!"

You then shuffle a little, turning to reach for the bag of ice cream cones. He watches with rapt attention as you scrape out the last remaining bits of ice cream in the bucket and drop it onto the cone. He retracts the ice he had around the bucket, seeing as there was no ice cream left to keep cool.

"You should have it." you say after watching him. When he looks at you, you're holding the cone out for him.

Shouto shakes his head. "It's alright. You can have it."

"Shouto," you huff. "Really, you should have it instead. You've been entertaining my whims 'n whatnot the entire day, so.."

The usage of his name has him hesitating; he wonders if you'll say his name again if he keeps refusing. The small pout on your face discourages him from that, though, and he decides to opt for a compromise.

He leans in to take a bite of the ice cream in front of you. Vanilla melts a little on his tongue before he swallows the bite, the coolness of the treat lingering. When Shouto pulls back, he observes your flustered expression with some amusement.

"There," he says simply. "I've had my fill. You can have the rest."

You open your mouth to protest and he just raises a brow in a silent question. He seems to conveyed his message well, because you bring the cone to your lips and take a small bite as you look away from him. Shouto gently pokes at your flushed cheeks, eliciting a giggle.

The smile on his face is fond. Shouto doesn't really have a favourite season - he didn't see a reason to have a favourite.

But, as the sun sets in the distance, last few rays of sunlight framing you in a picturesque scene as you finish off the ice cream cone in your hand - Shouto thinks that if he had to pick one season as his favourite, it would be summer.

ˏˋ°•*⁀🍁 autumn; bakugou katsuki

Katsuki doesn't indulge people. He doesn't entertain their whims. He gives absolutely zero fucks about the desires of other people.

(A lie, sort of. Katsuki is just a little soft towards his closest friends and he lets himself get dragged into their antics sometimes. But he would never openly admit that.)

That's what he says. That's what he told you, more or less, when you had thrown his coat at him and pushed him out the door of the dormitory. Which he let you do because he's particularly soft towards you.

"Don't be such a stick in the mud," you tease him with a playful grin. His expressions sours even further, which earns him the action of you poking him in the forehead with one finger. "You'll get wrinkles early if you keep frowning so hard."

"Stuff it," he says heatedly as he swats your hand away. It's an action that he immediately regrets, but his body doesn't relax in the slightest.

You don't seem to mind, laughing good-naturedly, which pisses him the fuck off because you should mind. He treats you so roughly and it's unwarranted, he thinks. Katsuki knows that he's an asshole and he knows he's far from being a nice person.

You should be treated kindly. Should be hanging out with someone just as bright and sunny as you.

But at the same time, he doesn't want you to do that. It's an unreasonable possessiveness, he thinks, because you're not even his. You don't belong to anyone.

Katsuki has no idea why you still hang out with him.

You're all soft touches, kind smiles, playful quips — and he's rough around the edges. He's a horrible person and he's done fucked up shit in the past that he regrets so, so deeply and he doesn't get you. Or any of the things he feels for you.

You're more resilient than he would've ever thought — because while you were all soft and shit, you knew when to stand up for yourself and you never let yourself be pushed around. You're firm with him and handle yourself well around him. Something about you, terrifyingly enough, disarms him.

His classmates — friends, they call themselves — are also weirdly eager to be around him, just like you. They actively insert themselves into his life and include him in their playful banter.

But you hang out with him the most. Some people have commented on it, in the past. He had just replied to them with a dark glare.

"Alright, this is a good spot!"

Katsuki cocks his head to the side, brows still furrowed. "Hah? Whaddya mean?"

The two of you are standing in a fairly open space, a few ways away from the dormitories. It's a clear part of campus with several trees hanging overhead.

"Pretty, isn't it?" you say, not answering his question at all. Your gaze is directed upwards, so he follows. Golden yellows, crimson reds, vibrant oranges act as a natural ceiling. Bits of the blue sky are peeking through.

"The fuck we standing here for?" he asks, all gruff as he looks back at you.

In one smooth motion, you pull out two rakes and what the fuck.

"Where the hell were you hiding those?"

"Trade secret," is your playful response as you press a rake to his chest. He grabs it out of reflex more than anything. "Less questioning, more raking."

"Hah? What's this shit even for?"

There's a glint in your eyes as you reply.

"Raking leaves," you state the obvious and he rolls his eyes. "We're making leaf piles to jump in."

"That shit's for kids," he grumbles, unmoving as he watches you fly around the leaf-covered ground, starting up a small pile of multi-coloured leaves.

"You're basically just a big baby," you coo and his glare sharpen. You don't seem to react because you're somehow never affected. "So I don't see the problem."

"That's—" he flounders, eventually deciding on a snarl. "Listen up. I'm not fucking making fucking dumb piles of fucking leaves just so you can fucking jump into them."

"Is fuck the only swear you know?" you question. You're teasing him.

He glowers.

"This is unfortunate," you sigh dramatically. He watches you carefully as you pause, looking down at the pile of leaves at your feet with a forlorn expression. "I didn't think that the Bakugou Katsuki would be so terrified of a few leaves. Guess I need to go get someone stronger to help me out."

Katsuki knows that you're trying to get him to rake leaves. He knows that you're poking at his ego and it's ridiculous because there's absolutely no reason for him to get competitive over a few fuc- shitty leaves. It's dumb, really—

"Fuck you," he spits as he starts raking up a pile of his own at record pace. Katsuki misses the painfully soft smile on your face, more focused on making his pile bigger than yours.

For a few minutes, it's just the sound of two students romping around and the scraping of the steel rakes against the ground that fills the air. Eventually, Katsuki comes to a halt when there's no more leaves in the immediate vicinity. He considers going out further to get more leaves for his pile.

"Damn," you whistle and his chest swells a little in pride at your impressed voice. "That is a big pile of leaves. I surrender."

"Ha. Did you think you could beat me to begin with?"

You snort, hand wrapping around his wrist. He can feel the sweat forming on the palms of his hands and he thinks that, if the lightning dumbass was around, he'd be making so much fun of Katsuki for the sweaty hands.

Katsuki has a few swears lined up, but none of them manage to leave his mouth because you're tugging him along.

Straight towards his pile of leaves.

(He could probably plant his feet firmly in the ground, making all of your attempts at moving him around futile.)

(He doesn't.)

Katsuki is stumbling into the mountain of leaves along with you as you destroy all of his hard work with a jump.

He's a little worried that you'll hit your head against something and before he knows it, one of his hands are resting against the back of your head as the two of you lay down on the ground.

The smile on your face makes him feel all soft and gooey and shit inside.

"Look," you say, and he glances up at the sky briefly as per your request. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Leaves are fluttering down gently around the two of you, warm tones unique only to autumn painting the air. It really is a sight to behold, he thinks, as he looks at your content expression.

The leaves eventually settle and you take it as your cue to stand back up. Katsuki looks at the hand that had been previously cradling the back of your head before he stands up roughly a second after you.

There's a golden leaf in your hair.

Without thinking, he reaches out slowly to pluck the leaf from your hair in one, easy motion.

"..Bakugou?"

"You had a leaf in your hair," he grumbles, flicking it off to the side. "Dumbass."

"That's mean," you say, but the smile resting upon your face with darkened cheeks makes him feel like you aren't so offended. Katsuki thinks he likes the way you look when blushing. "Round two?"

"Your pile is still there," he huffs. "Whaddya mean by round two?"

"But it's small," you lament, gazing upon your small pile of leaves. It definitely pales in comparison to the tower of leaves that Katsuki had cooked up earlier. "It'll be a lot more fun if it's bigger. Let's collect all of the leaves up into one big pile."

"This is dumb," he says, lips turning upwards in a slight smile.

"But it's fun!" you beam.

"...Whatever," he breathes out, turning away brusquely to hide his growing smile.

Katsuki's chest feels warm as he shoves a small bunch of leaves into the growing leaf pile.

ˏˋ°•*⁀❄️ winter; shinsou hitoshi

"Fuck, don't go in there. Are you a dumbass?"

Hitoshi shifts slightly. "Probably."

In all honesty, Hitoshi has no idea what's going on in the horror movie that you had put on.

There's some screaming, probably some ghosts or something - was the movie a ghost movie? He couldn't remember - which was all very cool. Probably. But he's more interested in you.

His best friend. That he's fallen irrevocably in love with.

You take a sip from your mug of hot cocoa, eyes watching the laptop screen with rapt attention. There's some sort of noise that comes from the screen that draws his own attention over. A rather ghastly, pale creature shows up behind the movie's protagonist.

"I told you so," you mutter, like the protagonist could hear you.

"Damn, someone doesn't leave the house," Hitoshi comments off-handedly, referring to the unnaturally pale, spindly creature currently chasing after the main character.

That draws a snort from you. A sound that has him wanting to poke at you so he can hear it again.

"Like you're one to talk, 'Toshi."

Now that has him actually poking at your sides. He takes the hot cocoa out of your hand and sets it down on his desk before he starts jabbing his fingers into your sides.

You break down into a mess of airy giggles as you try to pry his hands off of you and he grins.

"Hey. My complexion is way better than that thing."

"I don't know," comes your drawl once he stops tickling you, gazing up at him with an impish grin. "When was the last time you left the house and touched some grass?"

"There's no grass to touch," Hitoshi says, getting off of you to gesture at his window. Outside, a flurry of white storms on. "There's a fucking snowstorm. Its been snowing like crazy the last few weeks. Any grass out there is long-gone."

"Sounds like excuses to me," you chirp, settling back into your sitting position on his bed. He can't help but note that you're a lot closer this time. If he moves as much as an inch, his legs would bump into yours.

Hitoshi counts to three to calm himself down.

His heart beats thunderously against his chest anyways.

"Oh, she's definitely dead," you say, interrupting his thoughts. He raises a brow and turns his attention to the screen of your laptop.

Sure enough, there's a gory mess of fake blood and organs and a lot of screaming from the girl.

"You don't say," he drawls as the screams die down. You smack his arm playfully.

"Hush."

"Technically, you're the one who keeps initiating conversation," he snarks.

The smile on your face grows and he allows himself to think that you're smiling at him fondly. "Smartass."

"You know it and you love it."

Silence.

Hitoshi panics. What did he say, again? He definitely said the l-word. He hadn't been thinking. What did you think? You had suddenly gone silent and-

"That, I do," is your whispered response.

His body locks up and he just stares at you, but you aren't looking at him. Your gaze is resolutely fixed on the screen, acting all nonchalant - but he catches the darkened hue of your cheeks.

He smiles softly and turns his attention over to the screen, half-watching.

The scene had moved on from the girl's death. There was some arguing amongst people in a dingy little room. The only safe room in the house, if he recalled correctly.

Something to his side shifts and then he feels a warmth pressed up against him. His reaction is immediate, head snapping over to you.

"It's cold," is all you offer for an explanation, drawing the shared blanket closer to you.

The heating system had broken down a while ago, so the two of you had opted to share a blanket. It was a large blanket — big enough for two people to share without ever having to touch the other. He figures it could probably fit three.

Hitoshi continues to stare.

"You're always warm," you clear your throat, pulling your end of the blanket up around you to hide your flushed cheeks.

"What am I, your personal heater?" he manages to joke, trying to ignore the heat creeping up the back of his neck.

"Yes," you declare simply.

He rolls his eyes fondly. Boldly, he slowly snakes an arm around your waist to pull you closer against him.

For the body heat, he clarifies to himself.

There's no protest from your end, so he assumes he's in the clear. If anything, you're snuggling up against him and fuck if it isn't the cutest thing ever. It's getting harder to resist the urge to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"We should do this more."

Your voice comes out quiet, tentative. Hitoshi licks his lips as he hums nervously.

"What, cuddling?" he says, half-joking.

"Yes," you say, completely serious.

Oh, fuck me.

"It's not annoying, is it?" you question, a bit of hesitation flickering about in your gaze.

"No," Hitoshi replies immediately, arm around your waist tightening a little. "Nah, 's fine."

The hum he hears from you is happy as you turn your attention back to the movie. The horror movie you had put on was just background noise to Hitoshi as he relaxes into you.

And if the two of you don't move from your positions long after the movie ends, well — that's only for you and him to know.

a/n: still not super comfy with how i write bakugou gAH i want to do the boy some justice bc he's got a lot going on,,, hopefully i'll get it with time

[magnificentstrawberryomen]

bound to break (jolly karlsson x reader one shot)

cw: just angst oops

iwas incredibly proud of him, don’t get me wrong.

i loved his dark eyes sparkling with passion whenever he hit the stage and hit the first snares of his guitar. the concentrated, serious frown and expression he carried during the entire performance, whilst i knew more than anyone how much he was beaming on the inside, like a burning sun filled with passion, radiating to the instrument he’s playing.

but it hurt as well. it hurt that he had to chose between two of the things he loved the most; me, and his career. i wish i could’ve put it differently that night when it all went wrong—wrong for my heart now still desperately aching for him, needing him. for him to come home and wrap his arms around me like a safe heaven, singing me softly asleep, as he noticed i was close to drifting away but just needing to hear his calm and warm voice against my ear, the only thing that made me sleep fully and peacefully.

but i needed to break the silence, the painful eating silence between us whenever we were together and i just had to sit and watch him still being occupied by work instead of holding me like he always used to when he had days off.

“y/n, please. you can’t make me choose—”

“i’m not making you chose, joakim. or at least, i don’t want you to, but… i’m trying to explain to you that that i find it very hard to see you less and less, and now that you’ve just gotten back for three days you have to leave again!”

“i know!” he had yelled back, in frustration, in sadness. “i know, and it’s not like i like it either! but this is an opportunity we as a band have to take, you understand that right? we haven’t been able to play like this for y—”

“i never said i didn’t!” my voice breaks in a hoarse whisper, heart close to breaking as i interrupt him, ‘cause i knew where this conversation would end up to. it was bound to happen for a while now, and we were both tired. tired, yearning for each other every single day, yet our needs never got met. and it destroyed us, slowly but steadily, like a wall between us about to crack with each time we saw each other, waiting to get broken by either of us.

“but you understand that this situation becomes tiring for me, right? joakim, i barely see you and it becomes less and less, shorter and shorter. i miss you, i miss us—i miss who we were and could be!”

a silence is followed, only our ragged breathing being heard in the room around us, and jolly looks at me with a saddening frown, and i know i have the same look at my face, just more frustratedly and tired.

“what are you saying exactly, y/n?” he then asked after a moment, stepping slightly closer, a messy strand of hair escaping from his half up bun that i’m tempted to brush away behind his ear, but i keep both my hands to my side.

“what i’m saying is… i don’t know anymore how we can still make this work between us. i want to, truly, and you know that—but… it’s getting tiring. it’s getting tired to miss my other half, and him not even being with me when we’re together. even at home you’re constantly wrapped up in work, and i can just sit here and watch in silence waiting for you to leave your damn office and become known of my existence again.”

the memory of that night is painful. painful especially when i lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, the fabric of the sheets and mattress feeling extra cold now that he is not there anymore to make it warm and comfortable, safe and nice to lay in—i wasn’t able to sleep for weeks after we decided to take a break and see where life would lead us, if the road of this hectic life would take us back together or not.

so far, it didn’t. it seemed like jolly didn’t even want to take the first step. and maybe that was because of his busy schedule, maybe it was because i was too afraid of the reality peeking around the corner and watching me, watching me like a hawk to remind me all of this was never going to work out again, so i didn’t take the first step either. the only way i was in some sort of contact with him, was through a tv screen, watching him perform in a small intimate venue, which was a huge difference from the festival his band had played the night before, and just in general. they were getting more and more successful each day.

i would watch with tears stinging in my eyes, feeling both utterly heartbroken but so proud of him as well. because i knew be belonged to that stage, along with his friends, his brothers, creating music so special, inspiring and important for others with the passion clearly rushing through his body, the body that one held me with so much love and joy, that i couldn’t be mad at him anymore.

because i couldn’t take this type of love and joy from him either, because he was clearly made for this and the stage—and it hurts that he was not made for me, and a life together, after all.

[areyoudreaminof]

Feysand as parents incoming for @officialfeysandweek :

Nyx gripped Rhys’s hand tighter as he used his chubby legs to keep up with his parents. His wings twitched and spread slightly with every step. From his flying lessons, Nyx knew that having a strong body was just as important as having strong wings. So, the little boy took the advice to heart, making sure to walk and run wherever he could and offer to carry “big” canvases and bags for Feyre. He had even offered to carry the picnic basket after he stuffed it with food.

Nyx could fly well for a boy of his age, Rhys thought with pride. One of his favorite things to do was fly with his son. Rhys had strapped Nyx to his chest as an infant and took to the skies. Now, Nyx could soar off the ground on his own, yelling “Papa! Papa!”, as he showed off his small aerial tricks.

With help, Nyx could fly to great heights and Rhys knew he could start taking Nyx on longer and higher flights soon.

But watching puffed cheeks and the red nose of his toddler, Rhys decided to offer a little break.

“Want to ride on my shoulders?” Rhys asked, even though he knew the answer.

“Nope. I wanna walk.” Nyx replied with his eyes ahead. “I don’t wanna scare the ducks away.”

“Oh?” Feyre asked, “Why would the ducks be scared of you.”

“Cause my wings are big, and I’m big too. I don’t want them thinking I’m a hawk that wants to fight them.” Nyx said with a firm nod.

Feyre’s cheeks retreated as she sucked down a laugh. “I didn’t know hawks fought ducks.” she said with as much control as possible.

“Well, hawks always want to fight.” Nyx said solemnly, “The other day, me and Aunt Nesta went to the bookstore and a hawk came down and tried to grab a dog off a balcony!” His wings flapped slightly as he stretched his arms and screeched. “But the dog was kind of fat, and a lady came outside on the balcony and chased the hawk away.”

“Aunt Nesta didn’t mention that,” Feyre said, “we’ll have to ask her at dinner.” She shot a quick look at Rhys, who was desperately trying not to laugh.

“That’s ‘cause Aunt Nesta was talking to Miss Carys about their kissing books.” Nyx rolled his eyes at the memory. “You can look if you don’t believe me.”

The memory came to Rhys insistently, just as Nyx wanted. Rhys saw the fat pug snoring on the deck of the small apartment, while an equally fat starling came onto the railing looking for a fight. But to the eyes and mind of his four year old, it was an epic battle of bird and beast.

“See? I told you. Hawks always wanna fight.” Nyx said with a huff.

“Well then, we’ll just have to make sure to protect the ducks.”

“I will. Aunt Nesta got me a book about birds, so I know all about ducks.” Nyx nodded his head with a sort of seriousness that only a young boy could have.

“What other birds do you know about?” Rhys asked.

Nyx furrowed his brow, “Turkeys can run really, really fast. But I could beat them in a race.

[kikyoupdates]

Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑢𝑛𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑦

bnha x op!reader

op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader

You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.

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“A-Are you really okay?” Present Mic asks, eyes wide with disbelief. He gingerly places his hand on your arm, making sure not to apply too much pressure. When you don’t wince or otherwise show that you’re in pain, he squeezes down a bit. “Does this hurt? If it hurts even a little bit, tell me, okay?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t hurt. My arm is fine now. Sorry for worrying you.”

A shuddering gasp leaves his lips. Poor guy. He really looked like he was about to pass out just a few moments ago.

Anyways, your arm isn’t broken anymore, which is great, because you very much rely on the function of your arms. You use those arms to hold up burgers and guide them towards your mouth. They serve a very important purpose.

“I never expected you to have such an amazing Quirk,” Present Mic remarks. Now that he’s calmed down a bit, he’s able to pat your head and smile again. “Thank goodness. I’m so relieved you’re okay.”

You frown. “What’s a Quirk?”

Come to think of it, Dr. Garaki used the same term before too, but you didn’t actually know what it meant.

“Hm?” Present Mic blinks repeatedly. “You really haven’t heard of Quirks before? I feel like pretty much everyone knows what they are...”

He stops himself then, remembering that your situation is rather unique, and there must be gaps in your memory. He can’t even begin to imagine how you were raised until now, and how much you must have suffered, so the least he can do is answer any questions you have.

Whether you don’t know something, or you’ve simply forgotten, he’ll be there to walk you through all of it.

“Quirks are special abilities,” he explains. “Like your ability to heal yourself. You fell from the tree and broke your arm, but your Quirk is what saved you.”

Huh. You didn’t realize it was something special. You didn’t question it when your injuries healed after Dr. Garaki inflicted them upon you, because you simply didn't have a baseline for what is or isn’t normal.

“Do you have a Quirk too, Mic?” you ask.

He grins and nods his head. “Sure do! Ah, but I probably shouldn’t demonstrate here. I’ll end up bursting all these poor kids’ eardrums.”

Present Mic offers you his hand and helps pull you to your feet. You spend a few moments dusting yourself off after the fall. There’s dirt sticking to your nice new clothes, which sucks, but you’re hoping it can be washed out.

“I promise I’m fine,” you reassure. “I won’t climb any more trees anymore, so can I stay and play with them for a while longer?”

Present Mic knits his brows together. “Honestly, kiddo, you scared me half to death back there, but it’s my fault for not paying more attention. This time I’ll be watching you like a hawk, and trees are absolutely out of the question.”

“I know,” you say. “I learned a valuable lesson today. I shouldn’t underestimate trees.”

“Er, I think the lesson is to just be more cautious in general.”

“Trees are bad. I get it now.”

Present Mic lets out a sigh, but he must realize you’re not willing to be dissuaded. It appears he trusts you enough to believe that you won’t try anything reckless like that again, but this time when he goes to sit back down on the bench, he really��is watching you like a hawk.

That’s fine, though. You have nothing to hide. Your tree-climbing days are already a thing of the past.

“Anyways, I climbed it,” you say, finally turning back towards the blond kid who was heckling you earlier. “My Quirk saved me, but I fell, so that’s proof that climbing trees is dangerous. You shouldn’t try to force anyone to do it, otherwise they could get hurt really badly.”

None of the kids have budged an inch since they watched the whole incident unfold, mainly because they’re still trying to process everything.

“That—That Quirk,” Katsuki blinks. “Your arm was completely broken, and just like that, it’s not?”

“I guess so,” you nod.

“And you don’t feel anything anymore?”

“Nope. Well, I kind of remember how bad it hurt, but I don’t think I have any injuries left.” You pat your arm once more just to be certain, but sure enough, you’re fine.

Katsuki doesn’t say anything. Just like everyone else, he’s still letting it all sink in. It’s not like a regeneration Quirk is entirely unheard of. There are, after all, countless different abilities out there, and every individual is unique.

But for your Quirk to be that strong already? Strong enough to restore a serious injury in the blink of an eye? Even though you’re just a kid?

It’s pretty damn impressive.

And unfortunately for Katsuki, the other kids realize it too.

“Wow!” one of his friends gushes. “Holy moly! That was so cool! Hey, Katsuki, don’t you think her Quirk is super strong? It’s like she’s indestructible!”

Katsuki feels his brow twitch. All of a sudden, everyone’s paying attention to you, instead of paying attention to him.

And being the arrogant, spoiled little brat that he is, it royally pisses him off.

The boys all flock around you, asking you all sorts of questions that you’re not quite sure how to respond to. They’re mostly in awe, praising you left and right, and since you’re rather fond of praise, you have to admit that you don’t mind it in the slightest.

But one of the boys is different from the rest. Even if he’s in awe of your Quirk, like the others, he’s the only one to ask you:

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

It’s the curly-haired kid. The one with the freckles on his cheeks, and the big, green eyes. He knits his hands together as he asks the question, and based on the way his bottom lip is trembling, you get the sense that he’s worried, just like Present Mic was.

You’re not really sure why, though, because you thought you made it clear that you’re okay.

“I healed,” you tell him. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine now.”

He shakes his head. “I-I know that, but... like you said, you still remember how badly it hurt. And it must have been scary. So, I just wanted to check that you’re feeling alright. Even strong people like you probably still get scared...”

You blink, and even though he’s hardly made a big discovery or anything, for some reason, just the fact that he’s expressing so much concern resonates deep within your heart.

It’s true. You can get hurt over and over again, and you’ll probably heal every single time. You know this because of what Dr. Garaki did to you. He said you were sturdy. He sounded confident that you wouldn’t break.

But just because you can get hurt doesn’t meant that you should. And just because you’ll heal doesn’t mean you won’t experience any fear or pain.

While everyone gushes over your impressive ability, this boy is the only one who actually stops to consider your wellbeing.

“Thank you,” you blurt, and this seems to take him by surprise, because he jolts in place. “Um. Thank you for worrying about me, like Mic did. I’m all healed, but... it was scary. And I don’t want it to happen again. So, thank you. For caring.”

It’s criminal how quick he is to sport a blush on those freckled cheeks of his. He nods his head furiously, squeezing his eyes shut because he’s too flustered to meet your gaze.

“I-I-It's nothing!” he squeaks. “I just... wanted to make sure. I’m glad that you’re okay. Really, really glad.”

He’s a nice person, just like Aizawa and Present Mic. Even though you haven’t known him for very long, that’s what your gut is telling you.

This boy is the kind of person you'd like to have as a friend.

“I’m [Name],” you smile. “What’s your name?”

“Huh? O-Oh. I’m Midoriya Izuku,” he introduces. He’s still blushing, and it’s clear that he’s rather shy, if the way he keeps stammering out his words is any indication.

“What about Deku?” you frown, and at this, he bristles.

“Wh-What about it?”

“That boy over there called you that earlier. Isn’t that your name? Or is it a codename, like what Aizawa and Mic have?”

“It’s a—”

“It’s basically his real name,” Katsuki rudely interrupts. He shoves Izuku out of the way, then openly glares at you. “His name is Deku, because he’s a good-for-nothing Quirkless loser. You can read Izuku as Deku too, and it suits him way better, since he can’t ever do anything right.”

Izuku bows his head shamefully, and the sight makes your heart clench.

“So, it’s not a codename,” you clarify. “You’re just calling him something mean and teasing him. Why would you do that?”

“Uh, did you not just hear what I said? He’s Quirkless. He’s weaker than everyone else. Of course I’ll make fun of him for it.”

You arch a brow. “What does it mean if he’s Quirkless?”

“It means he doesn’t have a Quirk, even though everyone else does. He doesn’t have a cool power like the rest of us.”

Katsuki emphasizes his statement by creating little explosions in the palms of his hands. So, that must be his Quirk, then. And it sounds like most people have them, but for some reason, Izuku doesn’t.

You frown. Izuku refuses to look you in the eye anymore, and his cheeks are still bright red, but this time, they’re flushed from shame. He assumes that just like everyone else he’s ever met, you’re going to ridicule him for being different.

Needless to say, that’s not going to happen.

Up until a few minutes ago, you didn’t even know what a Quirk was. And there's no way you would ever judge him from being ‘different’, not when you’re a walking anomaly who’d never even taken their first breath until a few days ago.

"Okay,” you merely shrug. “So?”

Katsuki instantly deflates. That’s... not the reaction he was expecting. Why are you so unfazed? Come to think of it, how did you not even know about terms like ‘Quirk’ and ‘Quirkless’? Every kid in the world knows what they mean, and it’s not like you’re a toddler who’s just learning how to speak.

“He doesn’t have a Quirk,” Katsuki reiterates, feeling increasingly frustrated. “And he’s never going to get one either, because all Quirks manifest by the age of four. He’s going to be a loser for the rest of his life. Don’t you get it?”

Not really. You don’t get what the big fuss is about. So, Izuku won’t ever be able to heal from any injuries like yours or create explosions. But does anyone really need to do those things? It worked out for you because you got hurt, but it’s not like you’re going to go around looking for trouble just because you can heal. It’s better to just be safe in the first place.

“I don’t care,” you say. “Mic was cool even before I knew he had a Quirk. And Izuku is cool too. He’s nice and got worried about me. It kind of feels like you’re the loser. You make fun of people for no reason, and that gets on my nerves.”

Izuku’s eyes widen, and at the same time, Katsuki’s mouth parts in disbelief.

One of the boys is immeasurably happy, meanwhile, the other is livid beyond his wildest dreams.

“Nobody calls me a loser!” Katsuki cries out, and he creates an explosion in his fist, ready to punch you with it.

But he doesn’t get the chance, because Present Mic stops him.

“Hey, what’s going on over here?” he frowns. “I came over because I heard some yelling, and now I see you trying to punch this sweet little girl? Give me a break, kid. Don’t make me call your parents. I’m really good at complaining, you know.”

Katsuki grits his teeth and flails hopelessly, trying to pry his hand out of Present Mic’s grip. “Let go of me, you old bastard! Let me go, goddammit!”

“Old bastard?! I’m in my early twenties, for crying out loud!”

Present Mic eventually does let go, and then he steps in front of you to block Katsuki off. The blond is still seething, practically hissing, even, like some kind of rabid cat. You shake your head disappointedly. He’s really just embarrassing himself at this point.

“Where are your parents?” Present Mic sighs tiredly. “You can’t just go around picking fights for no reason. You’re too young to be picking up all these bad habits.”

“Eat shit,” Katsuki sneers.

“Did he just tell me to eat shit?! Seriously, who is this kid?”

You tug on Present Mic’s sleeve. “I’m okay, Mic. He didn’t hurt me. But I kind of want to go now. I don’t like that kid. His behavior offends me.”

“Yeah, well, your face offends me!” Katsuki claps back. It’s a childish retort, but then again, he is only six years old.

“Alright,” Present Mic nods. “I guess I shouldn’t waste my time trying to track his parents down. But whoever they are, they’re doing a terrible job of raising him. Anyways, if you’re ready to go, let’s head home!”

“Can I get a burger on the way back?”

“Pfft. Like you even need to ask.”

Present Mic grabs your hand and starts leading you along. But before you leave, you make sure to flash the curly-haired boy a big smile.

“Bye-bye, Izuku. It was nice meeting you. I hope we can play together again someday.”

“O-Okay!” he chirps. “It was... it was really nice meeting you too!”

He’s blushing again, but it’s nice to see him matching your smile with one of his own. He looks so much better with a smile. If not for that brute Katsuki, you’re positive he would smile a lot more.

"And bye-bye to the rest of the kids whose names I don’t know,” you continue, waving your hand. “Except for the rude blond kid who I don’t like. He doesn’t get a bye-bye.”

The rude blond kid in question mashes his teeth, downright fuming. He’s so indignant that he even cries out to you while you’re walking away.

“I have a name, you idiot! It’s Bakugou Katsuki!”

You ignore him, which just pisses him off even more, and in that moment, he designates you as his rival. His archnemesis, even. He swears that if the two of you ever cross paths again, he’s going to humiliate you and make you admit just how strong and cool he actually is.

Spoiler alert: neither of those things will ever happen.

“Listen up, [Name],” Present Mic instructs. “I kind of messed up by not doing a good job of watching you earlier today. If I’d been more careful, you would never have fallen from that tree to begin with. So, let’s keep what happened a little secret, okay? Just between the two of us. If Aizawa finds out I let you get hurt, he’s going to beat the snot out of me.”

You frown. “Does that mean you want me to lie to Aizawa?”

“It’s not really lying. We’re just choosing to omit certain parts,” he chuckles nervously.

Well, okay. Present Mic is a good guy, and you’re not trying to get him in trouble. Perhaps it’s better that Aizawa doesn’t know, so that he won’t get worried for no reason. You’re perfectly fine, after all. There's no need to cause him any undue grief.

Present Mic flashes you one of his trademark smiles, unlocks the door, and then you step into the apartment.

Aizawa is already there. He must have finished with his hero duties a little while ago.

“How was it?” he asks. “Mic told me you went to a playground today. Did you have fun?”

You nod earnestly. “Mhm! I met other kids there. One of them was really nice, and one of them was kind of a bully. And I also found out what Quirks are! I didn’t know that so many people also have special powers like mine.”

Aizawa frowns. “Huh. I guess we never stopped to wonder about what kind of Quirk you might have. And you say you only just learned what Quirks are... but that’s fine. I know you’ve been dealing with a lot, so it’s okay if you’ve forgotten some things. So, what exactly is your Quirk?”

“I can heal,” you say proudly, and without thinking it through, you extend your arm out and grin. “I broke my arm earlier, but as you can see, it’s completely back to normal now!”

Aizawa’s jaw drops open, and beside you, Present Mic clamps a hand over his mouth to keep from screeching.

“You broke... your arm?” Aizawa blinks repeatedly. There’s a glare settling upon his features, and it’s getting harsher by the second. “What does she mean by that? Hey. Explain it to me, Mic. Explain it to me right now.”

Oops.

You really weren’t trying to throw him under the bus. It’s just that you got all excited about revealing your Quirk to Aizawa, and before you knew it, you’d spilled the beans.

“Um. I didn’t mention the tree,” you whisper into Present Mic’s ear.

“What tree?!” Aizawa cries out.

“How did you hear me, Aizawa? I was whispering.”

Present Mic splutters out the beginnings of a protest. “W-Wait! Calm down, man! It’s not what you think!”

“Oh, really?” Aizawa glowers, grabbing onto the collar of Present Mic’s shirt and pulling him in. He brings his face impossibly close, enough to make Present Mic sweat bullets. “Because to me, it sounds like you made a royal mess of things while I wasn’t around.”

“U-Ugh. Okay, well, maybe it is kind of what you think.” Present Mic lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ll admit that I let my guard down for a few seconds, and that was all it took for [Name] to get hurt. I was incredibly negligent, but I promise it won’t happen again. I’ll never make such a grave mistake.”

“We’re her guardians now,” Aizawa scowls. “I don’t think you realize that we’re liable in case anything happens to her, and it’s our responsibility to keep her safe. Forget getting in trouble, she’s just a little kid, and she’s supposed to be able to rely on us.”

“I know. I messed up big-time. I can’t apologize for it enough, but I mean it when I say I’ll never let something like this happen again.”

You tap Aizawa’s arm. “Don’t be mad at Mic,” you plead. “It’s not his fault. I shouldn’t have climbed the tree in the first place. It’s all that mean blond kid’s fault. He’s the one who kept trying to pressure everyone into doing it.”

Your puppy eyes must have done their job, because after a few moments, Aizawa sighs and releases Present Mic, then kneels down next to you.

“Just because someone is telling you to do something doesn’t mean you should do it,” he says. “There will be all kinds of people like that in life. People that try to pressure you into doing stupid things. It’s up to you to discern which people are looking out for you, and which people are leading you down the wrong path. But I understand that you’re still young, and kids at your age are really impressionable. Still, do your best to make safe choices. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

He pats your head, and thankfully, his smile returns too. It doesn’t seem like he’s too upset anymore. He was just worried about you, the same as Present Mic.

“I’ll be safe,” you reassure. “I promise. I know trees are dangerous now. No way will I ever climb one again.”

“Good. That’s good.” Aizawa pauses for a few moments, then frowns. “So... you say that you broke your arm after falling from that tree, and sure enough, it looks good as new. It really healed completely? It doesn’t hurt at all anymore?”

You nod. “It’s fine now. My arm works just fine. See?” You wiggle your arm around for emphasis, and it’s obvious that you don’t feel any pain while doing it.

“A healing Quirk. I guess that’s a good thing. Kids are reckless, and they tend to get all kinds of scrapes and bruises, so at least in your case, you won’t have to deal with those kinds of injuries long-term.”

He’s relieved that you’re okay. If any other kid had broken their arm, it would have been a guaranteed trip to the hospital. Perhaps he should still bring you in another day just to make sure everything is in order, but this certainly spares him a lot of the trouble and heartache.

Aizawa is relieved.

But then, all of a sudden, he isn’t.

He’s just realized something. Something that makes him sick to his goddamn stomach.

You said that the bad man hurt you. He hurt you, and now Aizawa has just discovered that your Quirk allows you to heal.

How many times did that man hurt you, then? How many times must he have made you suffer? Dr. Iwase couldn’t find any signs of abuse, but of course he wouldn’t have been able to, not if your body mended itself after every violent assault.

Aizawa doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t dare ask, out of the fear that he might trigger traumatic memories.

All he can do is pull you into his arms and hold you close.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles. He can feel his shoulders trembling as he strokes your hair. “It’s okay, [Name]. “We’re here for you now.”

You’re not sure where all of this is coming from. Is he still worried that you’re in pain? Your arm is feeling just fine. Falling from a tree and breaking one of your limbs was admittedly terrifying, but you’ve learned what not to do, so you’re confident history won��t repeat itself.

And yet, even though Aizawa is clearly trying to comfort you, it almost feels like he’s the one who needs to be consoled.

“I’m doing just fine,” you beam, patting his back. After a few moments, even Present Mic wordlessly drops to his knees and wraps his arms around you. They’ve initiated a group hug all of a sudden. Well, not that you mind.

Yeah. You don’t mind this one bit.

A few days after your check-up at the hospital, Aizawa receives a call. He yawns and presses the phone against his ear, only half-awake.

“Hello?”

“Um, hello there. This is Dr. Iwase calling. I’m speaking to Aizawa, correct?”

“That’s me,” Aizawa nods. He adjusts the phone slightly. “What is it? Is this about that child psychologist you mentioned last time? Because to be honest, I think it’s a good idea. It sounds like she’s had it even worse than I first thought.”

“I’m actually calling about a different matter. We received the results of [Name]’s blood test, you see.” He swallows thickly, almost as if he’s not quite sure how to frame his next words. “And, um... it was strange, for lack of a better word. Honestly, I’m not even sure how to describe it.”

Aizawa stiffens. “How so?”

“It’s difficult to explain. From a non-medical standpoint, everything would seem perfectly fine. But her blood, well... it doesn’t exactly behave the way normal blood does. All of her readings fell outside of the normal range, despite the fact that she seemed perfectly healthy when I examined her. This is the sort of thing you might find in someone incredibly sick. A terminally ill patient, perhaps. Not a functional child.”

Aizawa doesn’t know what to say. He’s at a total loss. However, one thing is certain.

You aren’t an ordinary kid.

More chapters are available on Quotev or Wattpad!

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[mumms-the-word]

So I’ve played a bit more Veilguard and y’all

Y’ALL

Y’AAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL

Spoilers below the cut (which I may turn into a lore post later idk)

UM SOUTHERN THEDAS IS DYING?

I have everything spoiler tagged and hidden, idk if people are talking about this but EXCUSE ME??

MY WARDENS AND HAWKES ARE IN DANGER

Okay but like let’s think about this for real (I'm going off memory from replaying the "meet the inquisitor" scene like 3-4 times so forgive any missed details; also I disbanded the Inquisition in this game so idk if that has an effect yet)

Inquisitor and Morrigan said that the south is under siege from a legion, an army, a swarm of darkspawn the likes of which Thedas has never seen. Thanks Ghilan’nain for creating new horrors. That sounds bad but then it gets worse

Denerim, a city that has canonically withstood the Fifth Blight and was the showdown site for a battle against a darkspawn army and an archdemon, is lost. We lost the capital of Ferelden.

Everyone is fleeing to Redcliffe, which is decently defensible but not impenetrable. Redcliffe has already suffered waves of undead and (theoretically) a super dark pseudo-future full of demons and red Templars and such. It stood up pretty well against both, but it’s not great if it’s Ferelden’s last stand against the darkspawn.

What about the Hinterlands? Amaranthine? Gwaren? Inquisitor writes that Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds are seeing surges of darkspawn again--that's where the darkspawn poured forth during the Fifth Blight. That's not good!

Orzammar is helping, but I can’t imagine they’re not also suffering. Are the darkspawn flooding the Deep Roads? Orzammar can’t defend against them forever if it’s worse than we think. Are the Legion of the Dead overwhelmed?

Kirkwall has fallen. A city that has withstood, within the last 25 years, a refugee crisis from the Fifth Blight, a violent qunari invasion, the explosion of their Chantry and the ensuing mage-templar chaos that nearly brought the city to its knees, and the Breach, which opened up dozens of Fade rifts in the city that Varric was still dealing with after the Breach was actually closed. It's gone, it's unlivable, so much so that the Acting Viscount had to evacuate her city and her army to freaking Starkhaven, which is usually their mortal enemy (Prince Sebastian Vael tends to want to annex or control Kirkwall smh)

(Also Aveline is Acting Viscount? that makes sense and also I love that for her, but man what a time to be in charge)

Ostwick, the home city for Trevelyans, is threatened by the rogue Antaam, so I can only imagine that Wycome, where a surviving Clan Lavellan would be, is also threatened by the Antaam (Wycome is closer to Antiva and Rivain anyway). And the rest of the Free Marches is apparently experiencing "the worst" of the darkspawn threat. How many cities other than Kirkwall have fallen? Like Ferelden, what's happening in the spaces between?

In Orlais, the darkspawn have apparently cut a line directly through the country. Both Halamshiral and Val Royeaux are barely holding out, which is partly surprising and partly not. Halamshiral and Val Royeaux are luxurious cities, not defensible fortresses. That said, they have the benefit of the Orlesian monarchy's standing army and the Divine's templar (or templar-equivalent) army, so perhaps that's why they're both still standing.

But I imagine the Exalted Plains, the Dales, the desert landscapes of the Western Approach (which already had lingering darkspawn threats)....those must be suffering. Are the Dales themselves blights, the greenery dying? Is the newly-healing land of the Plains now facing death and destruction again?

I mean, yes, the threat of the gods in the north is also very bad but I am stuck on this idea of trying to figure out how our beloved characters from the last three games are dealing with this! This is their turf!

We know the Inquisitor is running around trying to help but what about everyone else? Like, can you imagine...

How is Alistair doing, facing a blight that has been described as "worse than any blight the world has ever seen"? Either he's a warden and he's sick of dealing with this, or he's the king and he's facing the total annihilation of his kingdom again, only this time the odds are infinitely worse. Is his Warden wife fighting alongside him, or is his Queen helping him keep everything together?

What about Zevran? Is he staying in Antiva, causing chaos among the Antaam who have taken over various cities there, or does his Warden romance convince him to go down south to try and help? And Leliana? if she's Divine, she's likely manning the chantry's armed forces, but if not, where is she operating? Is she with her lover, the Warden, or if she's alone, is she back in the game of fielding information to all the necessary forces who need them? She's not the Inquisition spymaster anymore, but that doesn't mean she's not active

Aveline is fleeing to Starkhaven, where Sebastian is, and Varric is with us in the lighthouse. Isabela is with the Lords of Fortune. What about the rest? Did Merrill flee with Aveline? Is Hawke with them? Or is Hawke with Anders, or Fenris, fighting wherever they need to be? (Assuming, of course, they're not left in the Fade). What about Bethany or Carver, if they're alive? If they're Wardens, surely they're in the thick of it, fighting darkspawn. If they're not, have they gone with Aveline to Starkhaven?

And our DAI friends. Cullen is in Ferelden--has he joined forces at Redcliffe, if he's not romancing the Inquisitor? Is his family okay? Dorian is in Minrathous, we can safely assume Josephine is in Antiva City. I can only assume Josephine is trying her best to keep Antiva City safe through her connections and influence, but how long until events there force her to leave too?

Cassandra is from Nevarra so she may be home, or she's Divine, or she's traveling. If she isn't with her romanced Inquisitor and she isn't the Divine, surely she's out there fighting. Against what? Venatori in Nevarra? Or will her allegiances to Orlais bring her down there to aid a Divine Leliana? Sera is still in Orlais too, presumably, as a Jenny that helps the Divine. Are they both facing the darkspawn threat?

If Blackwall is a Warden, is he even still alive? If he's not a Warden, I can imagine he's back in the Free Marches, fighting darkspawn until his dying breath. Iron Bull and his Chargers, too, if they're all alive from DAI. Whether he's in Orlais, Ferelden, the Free Marches, or passing near Tevinter to be with Dorian, he and his team must be constantly dealing with the blight and the gods acting crazy. Unless, of course, he or Blackwall are with the Inquisitor, fighting right there on the front lines.

Vivienne has probably rallied mages in whatever Circle she's established to help, but help how? Joining the forces of the Divine, or leading a campaign of her own? If Cole is human, is he finding little ways of helping, or has he been human so long that he's forgotten how? If he's a spirit, he's back beyond the Veil. Does the chaos in the south now draw him back? How can a spirit of Compassion, whether human or spirit, deal with what is happening all across Thedas?

I have so many thoughts. And I will probably write fic about it. It all just keeps churning in my head. I love it. It's horrifying. The game may have moved on very quickly from it but boy oh boy am I thinking about my Wardens and Hawkes and Inquisitors and going "What are you going to do?? The world is dying!!"

If I learn more I'll turn this into a lore post that isn't hidden by a cut, but for now I have some mural memories to live through (time to cry about Solas again) and then it's side quest city babyyyy so idk when I'll have an update again lol

if you made it this far, well done :') appreciate you

thank for joining me in this chaos!

[https-hunter]

I am lucky enough that Cinemark approached my college’s animation department with the offer to attend an advanced screening of the first 35 minutes of Inside Out 2.

I loved it.

The original Inside Out came out when I was eleven and I’ve adored it since, so this was a really cool opportunity as a longtime fan and current animator.

So here’s a description of what goes on in the first half hour & some of my thoughts.

Massive spoilers for Inside Out 2 below the cut!!

The movie starts out with Riley’s hockey game. Each one of the five main emotions takes a turn at the wheel during the game. Joy get Riley excited, Anger gives her the aggression she needs on the ice, Fear reminds her to put her mouth guard in, Disgust makes it realize that it’s not hers, and Sadness takes over when Riley is given a penalty.

During her time in the penalty box, the emotions reflect on what Riley has been up to lately. She turned 13, got braces, started growing, and has two best friends she plays hockey with, Grace and Bree. We see the personality islands and it’s noted that Friendship Island is majorly overshadowing Family Island. We’re also introduced to Riley’s sense of self, which is made up of affirmations she has for herself after different memories are added to it (i.e.: “I’m a good friend” “I’m a good person, etc.). It is comprised of different strings that say the affirmation when they are strung. Joy also reveals a machine she has that sends memories to the back of the head, which I guess is like repressed memories.

When she gets out of the penalty box, Riley, Grace, and Bree score a winning goal and are approached by the local high school’s hockey coach. She invites the three of them to hockey camp that weekend, to which they all immediately accept.

The night before camp, the emotions are all in bed. I need to add that Joy & Sadness share a bunk, Anger is by himself as he punches the air, and Disgust & Fear bunk together. Sadness & Joy hear an odd sound and they find the puberty button going off, no matter what they do to stop it. A construction crew comes in & basically makes a mess of headquarters.

The next day, Riley wakes up and she isn’t ready for hockey camp. When her mom asks why she isn’t packed, Anger responds, but Riley overreacts even though he barely touched the console. Sadness and Disgust try it, but Riley’s just having mood swings now and they find the console to be way more sensitive than it used to be. They decide to leave it alone unless they absolutely have to use it.

Cut to the car ride to hockey camp. Riley is telling Grace & Bree how excited she is to play hockey together in high school. Disgust instantly flags a look Bree gave her and Bree’s own Disgust flags Riley’s look back. Grace blurts out that she and Bree are going to different high schools and Riley tries to hold it together until she’s out of the car. The emotions literally have to hold Sadness back 😭

This is where the new emotions show up. We meet Anxiety (I tried to stay normal over hearing Maya Hawke), Envy (she’s voiced by Ayo Edebiri !!), Embarrassment, and Ennui (Joy nicknames him “wee-wee”). We also later meet Nostalgia, a sweet old lady emotion, but Anxiety tells her she’s ten years too early. Anxiety explains her role in things and there’s a joke about how Fear thinks he’s going to get along really well with her. The new emotions all take the wheel, especially when Riley is trying to introduce herself to Val, a cool hockey player at the high school she’ll be attending. Anxiety, out of fear for Riley’s social future, has Riley follow Val and she meets some other hockey players. They all think she’s from Michigan and not Minnesota, but she just rolls with it.

When the girls are all ready for practice in the locker room, Riley & her friends act really immature while the coach is trying to talk. Joy tries to make things better, but Riley laughs at a joke one of her friends made at the wrong time. Coach makes everyone skate lines (I think?) as punishment.

Riley overhears some of the high school players talking about her and how immature she is. When Val is alone, Anxiety makes a plan and Riley approaches her and apologizes for getting everyone punished. Val tells her that it’s okay and that the coach being hard on her means that she’s under her radar, and that it’s a good thing.

Val tells her that they might be on the same team when they split into groups. This causes a divide between Joy and Anxiety. Joy thinks that Riley should stay with her current friends, while Anxiety thinks she should stick with Val. Riley does end up choosing Val’s team and we get a confused look from Grace and Bree.

In Riley’s head, Anxiety carries out phase two of her plan. She tells the older emotions that they’re not needed anymore and literally bottles them up. They’re sent to the Vault, which is a, well, vault that holds Riley’s deepest secrets.

In here we meet Bloofy, a Dora the Explorer/Mickey Mouse Clubhouse-style cartoon character whose secret is that Riley still enjoys the show. We also meet Lance, a video game character Riley has a crush on, whose only defense move is rolling into a ball and moving forward. There’s also Riley’s deepest secret, but he doesn’t really talk. I just have to nerd out over the different animation styles here. Lance, while being 3D, is so pixelated and made to look like an anime-style video game character. Bloofy is fully 2D animated. You had all these animation students in the audience LOVING this scene.

Riley’s deepest secret breaks the jar the emotions are bottled up in. Bloofy uses what is clearly supposed to be the Mystery Mousekatool from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and they’re given three tool options: a tomato, something else I don’t remember, and dynamite. They use the dynamite and blow the door open. I need you guys to know that Lance cannot leave at first because he keeps walking into the wall. And then he just Riley’s secret decides to stay. The cops/guards in Riley’s mind catch them at first, but for reasons that I can’t really remember, they all end up incapacitated (handcuffs on their feet, slipped on coffee, etc.).

The emotions begin their journey to get back to headquarters and take Riley back from Anxiety’s plan.

I think the new emotions will be really good for Riley. I was not expecting Anxiety to become an antagonist, though! I love the new ways they’ve explained different parts of the mind, like the sense of self and repressed memories. The visuals are, of course, gorgeous and the story captures the sheer horror that is being 13.

I really love it so far. I’m beyond thrilled that I had this opportunity, and now I have an Inside Out 2 tote bag. I can’t wait to see the rest of it in June.