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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years ago

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How To Train A Demon

An adorable visual of Demon!Deku by @birds-have-teeth !!💙

Demon!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

Summary: Who knew you’d be teaching a man from the underworld your way of life, and who knew you’d slowly start to fall in love with the very being you were taught to fear?

WARNINGS! None!

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 12k

A/N: Day 12 of the Izumonth collab!

I had to split it into two parts due to limited time with editing, so the second part will be posted shortly after the collab ends!

I also want to thank @1a-imagines for helping me edit and find a good stopping point with this fic! I would not have finished it in time if it werent for her and her amazing talents!

Just To Clarify:

Takes place in early-ish Japan during the summer!

I did not do my history homework..

Reader does not have a job, and lives alone on the side of a mountain.

They say dark and stormy nights always bring chaos and misfortune.

That the scariest of tales are bred from the harsh splatter of rain on parched ground, the crackle of lightning in the sky illuminating the monsters that lurk deep in the shadows.

They always warn to fear those nights, to keep a lantern on and a knife under your pillow, for you never know what nefarious being is waiting to strike during your most vulnerable state.

And for the most part, it was true. Believable.

Of course, how could you not believe in such stories?

They were what you grew up with, what you were lectured with, a lesson repeatedly bashed into your skull from the minute you could understand them.

Everyone feared those nights.

Everyone feared the darkness.

It was always something so easy to be afraid of without even really being given a viable reason as to why other than tales passed on for generations.

You fear what you do not understand.

Especially those who lived alone, people like you.

People who needed fear to keep them alive more than the next person.

A small house on the mountainside, surrounded by thick forests and shrines to gods of ancient times. Lands protected and blessed by predecessors, symbols carved into trees and painted on rocks to banish the evil.

But alone you lived, alone your fears manifested into a ball of terror-filled paranoia, regardless of anyone’s true sense of reason.

Could you always rely on a symbol to keep you safe?

This particular night would unknowingly bring those fears to life.

But then again, it’s impossible to expect the unexpected, regardless of what others may say or encourage.

Thunder clapped loudly in the sky as rain assaulted your wooden rooftop, something usually so peaceful amplified by the altitude and sounding like a million dancers stomping on the old wood, dragging you into a restless sleep as stray drops drip from your ceiling, echoing in a metal pan at the far side of your room from a leak you had yet to repair.

Body curled into a ball, you gasped involuntarily when a bright flash illuminated your room, followed immediately by the raging roar of the sky as it split in two once again.

It was safe to say you would suffer through another sleepless night, fingers digging into the meaty flesh of your poor pillow as you fought to maintain a steady breath as the violent storm raged on outside, howling winds only adding to the dreadful abundance of creepy noises.

Nights like these you wished you weren’t alone.

Perhaps you would have been less afraid if your deceased family didn’t decide to live on the mountain instead of in the valley.

Though you desired to move down there where lanterns illuminated the sky at night, you couldnt abandoned what little you had left of your kin.

Instead, you sucked it up, like you always managed to do.

You were an adult, after all, one that theoretically should have been married already, but alas.

You craved freedom more than you craved to be tied down by a ring of false promises. That, and the fact that typically parents were the ones who set up marriages.

As another bang of thunder rang out in the night, you squeezed your tired eyes closed, imagining someone was there with you, wrapped securely in their embrace, even if just for a moment. Someone there to calm your breath down, to protect you from the loneliness that stabbed at your weeping heart.

Whimpering, your legs rubbed together as a cold chill filtered into the room, creeping up your spine as goosebumps ran down your skin, the garment you wore doing next to nothing at keeping you warm.

Perhaps you should have kept the fireplace going.. An old, rusty oil lantern with a small flame could only do so much. Then again, it was more of a light source than a heat source, so you couldn’t really complain.

With a huff, you dragged the thick covers over your head, sealing in what little warmth you had.

It was like a warm cocoon, almost. A little bundle of protection. You could barely even see the flashes anymore, but that just meant the thunder would swoop down on you like a hawk, startling you every time.

But what else is one to do other than to wait out the storm?

The sun would rise eventually, just as it always has and just as it always will.

Since the beginning of time, the sun blessed the lands with a golden glow, shrouding its children in warmth and love. The moon was like it’s bitter sister, cold and cruel, taking away the light that led her people through her darkness.

Some nights she was merciful, and others- gone from the sky completely.

This night just happened to be one of those nights.

So not only was it violent, rainy, and cold, this night was also one without any true lights.

Stars were a blessing in disguise, their brightness concerningly dim.

At least you had your lantern and that dirty old katana your father left behind.

You were safe.

At least you thought you were, but a sudden cry bellowing through the night tore the thick atmosphere apart, sending chills down your spine and making the grip on your blanket as tight as ever.

What.. was that?

It sounded almost like..

Like a wounded animal..

Just then, a flash of light blinded your vision, a sickening roar accompanying it. The ground shook as you whimpered, eyes wide with fear.

A bolt must have struck close to home..

It’s okay.

Everything is okay.

Breath heavy and body shaking, you comforted yourself with logic- an old friend you abandoned.

An animal just got hurt, was all. Perhaps a tree fell on it, or maybe it got attacked by another animal!?

It might even have been that howling wind that acted up sometimes!

Everything was okay.

It’s okay.

Nothing to fear.

It’s just a storm.

Just a storm.

You’re safe.

You’re inside.

The light guides you, the charms protect you, the shrines embrace you.

You’re okay.

It’s just a storm.

It’s just a

SCRSSSSHHHHH!!

CRASH!

“AHHH!”

A blood-curdling scream tore from your throat as something suddenly crashed through your window, the loud sound of wood tearing apart and clanging to the floor was followed by a heavy thud and the splash of rain on your padded floor at the gaping hole given to it.

Screaming in terror, your frantic hand grabbed the blade at your side, shaking body scrambling backwards to the other side of the wall, pulling it from its sheath.

You were trapped, you had no exit!

The only exit you had was where whatever the fuck that is just crashed!

Oh gods!

You’re going to die!

This was it!

A fucking storm!

A fucking goddamn storm!

God, you were a fool!

Hyperventilation crept up on you like a venomous snake, its cold body constricting tightly around your chest and throat, cutting off your oxygen supply and freezing your numb fingers.

You were scared shitless, that was for sure, and all you could do was helplessly stare with wavering eyes at a large, haunting silhouette in the corner of the room. The small light, now seemingly miles away, providing next to no coverage of this massive figure, only gifting the room more horrific shadows.

You wanted this to be a dream, that what the elders warned wasn’t true.

This was just a nightmare.

A scary nightmare your mind conjured up like it always did.

Rain splattered against your sickly pale face, the droplets mixing with the burning hot tears that poured down your cheeks as you fought to keep a steady hand and to slide up the wall to stand.

Old, dull blade pointing forward, you couldn’t help by cry out as the dark figure moves ever so slightly.

A crash of light drowns out your sobs, swallowing the room in a dull white glow for a mere moment, enough of a moment to give you a glimpse of this creature.

You wish you hadn’t seen it, that you indulged in your ignorance for a moment, that you didn’t see the way large, black wings sprouted from the back of a human.

Horns glistened with water atop its head, long tail thrashing wildly as its body moved to get up.

Your breathing stopped the minute it opened its eyes, a vicious, glowing green staring off at the destruction it caused.

Heart roaring in your ears, you did nothing but stare.

It was as if your blood had ran as cold, for all you could think to do was to silently pray to the gods that everything would be okay.

That your life would not end.

That you would still have a chance to become what you were supposed to be, and not die a lonely child by the hands of a beast.

Suddenly, its eyes snapped to your own, wide pupils turning into menacing slits as it gazed at you with malice, an animalistic growl rumbling in its chest, sharp teeth that could easy rip your throat out on full display.

Blade slipping from your numb hands, black dots spotted your vision as you promptly fainted from fear, accepting death in its imminent wake as your knees crash against the floor.

‘So this truly was the end’.. You thought to yourself as you body drifted lifelessly in a void of black, fingers outstretched as if reaching for something that would never be there.

Death was always something to think about, the burning question always attacking your mind as to how exactly you would die. You figured you’d be mawed to death by a wild boar of sorts, tusks tearing through the ligaments in your legs, praying you’d die from bleeding out before its teeth dug into your skin, eating you alive.

Or perhaps you’d die as most women do these days, walking alone before you’re kidnapped by an enemy.

Death by what could only be described as a demon never truly crossed your mind despite you being warned by it.

It seemed impossible.

Why would a demon want you of all people?

Though, you were.. an easy prey.

‘I’m sorry..’ you whispered to yourself, hoping your words of sincerity would cross the plains of existence and comfort those you would ultimately leave behind, which wasn’t many, and those you were soon to visit. You let your eyes slip shut to close off the suffocating abyss, embracing death.

“Ugh!” you groaned uncomfortably as a bright light assaulted your closed eyes, dragging you from your sleep.

No.. was this sleep?

You couldn’t be too optimistic..

Turning over, your back promptly blocked out the headache-inducing light, bare arm coming up to rub the drowsiness from your eyes as you blinked in your surroundings.

Well.

There wasn’t really anything to look at since you were facing a wall.

More specifically, your bedroom wall. A simple, faded, dark wood design.

Humming, your fingers tap against the tatami floor, chewing on your lip as you struggled to comprehend the beating of your own heart.

Were you alive?

It was hard to tell, you didn’t exactly have an accurate depiction of the afterlife.

Oh boy.

If you were dead, your family would kill you again no doubt for dying so early.

Of course, you can never please your ancestors, especially if you don’t leave something behind to continue your family’s lineage.

Maybe it was a good thing that you were dead, actually.

It didn’t take but a moment to notice the unusually loud sounds of nature attacking your ears and the wet, earthy scent flooding your nose.

The rain had ceased, and the morning birds were singing their usual cheerful tune.

The delicate jingle of your wind chime could be heard as it swayed ever so gently in the wind, having previously been frantically dinging all night long.

At least you were welcomed with open arms to your afterlife, after promptly being murdered by some weird fucking overgrown bat demon.

Who knows, maybe it wasn’t a demon.

Demons didn’t look like that? No, they were much creepier, but it wasn’t like you had anything real to compare it to.

Grumbling to yourself, you ran a hand through your messy hair, finding the oily, tangled mess utterly disgusting.

You really should take a bath soon.

Does the afterlife have baths?

You would throw a fit if not, you need your weekly soak, even if the water wasn’t that warm.

You’d be damned if you didn’t get a minute to relax and destress.

But then again, is there even stress here?

You’d have to find out later, for now, you should stop staring at your dirty old wall like some sort of lunatic, give this whole afterlife a go.

Slapping your bare thighs, eyes sparkling with determination you go to turn around before promptly screaming your heart out as fright squeezed the life out of you once more.

Large, snake-like green eyes bore into your own, only a hair length away.

Throat dry, you flung yourself back against the wall as you fought to scramble away, only for this creature to follow your every movement as you pushed yourself into a corner.

All you could see was green.

Green.

The type of green that reminded you of toxic flames erupting from an innocents body as it succumbs to possession.

You swore you were dead, but perhaps you have yet to meet your untimely end.

“Please!”

You cried, tears pouring down your raw cheeks as your arms wrapped protectively around your head, “Please don’t hurt me!” sobbing, you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting.

Waiting was always a horrifying game, you never knew when the waiting would stop and when you could breathe again.

But death never greeted you.

It was odd in a way.

It was as if you were expecting so much, that to not be given it was even more confusing.

Lips wobbling, you slowly peaked your eye open, breathless as you noticed this human-like creature suddenly at the other end of the room, clawed fingers tapping together at it shifted nervously from bare foot to foot.

…

What the-?

“I-i’m so sorry! I, I must’ve scared you so much… I’m really sorry!”

You stared in shock as this… man fell to his knees, thumping his forehead onto the floor in an apologetic bow, wings bent and folded at his sides.

You were speechless.

Truly, what the hell?

Was this even real?

You couldn’t tell anymore.

This all seemed so questionable.

It was certainly what crashed through your home- of fuck!

Gasping, you finally got a good luck at the true destruction.

Oh, your window was completely ruined! Broken wood stuck out everywhere, even looking at it made you feel like you were going to get a splinter!

How are you supposed to fix that when you haven’t a coin to your name?

Fuck.

Wait.

Oh, right!

There was!

This creature!

What the hell.

Breathing heavily, you fought to calm yourself down as you got a good look at this thing.

Its hair was messy, mud, twigs, and leaves entangling itself in its thick, dark green curls. It was hard to ignore the two large black horns atop its head, locks wrapping almost possessively around them.

Pointy ears caught your attention, a strange earpiece dangling from one with an upside-down, obsidian Christian cross.

Of course, what mostly caught your attention were the two large black wings sprouting from its scarred back, a thin black tail idly swaying back and forth.

His cream-colored skin was wet with water, dotted with freckles, and littered with scars varying in sizes.

All and all, you were dumbfounded.

Eyes bouncing around the room, you looked for your sword, desperate for some sort of protection, something you could say you tried to fight it off with if worse came to inevitable worse.

Oh!

There!

It was only a few feet away from you, and do as you must, you slowly crept forward, crawling on your hands and knees, sneaking around in hopes it wouldn’t lift its head and pounce on you.

Unfortunately, you pressed on a particularly creaky floorboard, and its head snapped up, fear causing you to jump for the sword before shakily aiming it at the demon once more.

“S-stay back!” you warned with a wavering voice, though you knew for a fact you looked like a crying child who could do no real harm.

Eyes stared into each other once more, this time from a safer distance. You were just about to speak again when it spoke up, its voice a calmer and not as frantic, “You’re holding that wrong.”

“Excuse me?” you answered without a beat, astonishment lacing your words as curiosity rose onto your face, how on earth did this thing know that?

“You’re holding the katana wrong,” it pointed at your hands on its handle, sharp black fingernail catching your ultimate attention, “You shouldn’t hold it just at the bottom, you need to space your hands out more. You would not be a threat to anyone if you hold it like that.”

Was… was it seriously lecturing you right now?

Eye twitching with annoyance, you slid your hands into the position described, “Just like that! Perfect!” it smiled brightly at you, green eyes slipping closed as it praised you like a teacher to a student who did good.

“Shut up!” you shouted, scrambling to your feet, flames of anger igniting within your body as you took a step forward.

With an inhuman screech, its wings folded protectively around its body, “Ack! I’m sorry! I just wanted to help you!”

What is going on?!

This, this wasn’t! This wasn’t supposed to be happening right now, right?? It was just about to kill you!

Could you even call it an "it", it looks like a man!

Is it a man? How do demons work!

Why is this happening right now!

You couldn’t wrap your head around it, and it was beyond infuriating!

“Who and what are you!” you snarled out, surprise blossoming in your eyes at the sheer ferocity you just displayed, but annoyance sure is a force to be reckoned with.

Wings cracking open ever so slightly, and you can just barely see an innocent green eye peaking out.

“M-My name is Midoriya.. Midoriya Izuku.. I’m.. I am a.. I know it sounds weird, but I’m a demon..”

So you were right.

This is a demon, just not one you were used to.

Yokai was what they’re called here, red, devilish creatures that sought destruction.

This certainly wasn’t a yokai, surely, despite his cheeks being a subtle red.

“I mean you no harm..” he meekly whispered, unfolding his large wings just to put his hands in the air, defenseless.

You weren’t convinced.

But then again, what were you supposed to do?

It wasnt as if you were taught how to handle a situation where an animal crashes into your house in the middle of a thunderstorm just to be there the next morning watching you sleep like some sort of creepy stalker.

When life gives you lemons, though, right?

Well, you hated lemons.

Or, at least these lemons.

No, that doesn’t apply here surely. This is a man, not a lemon.

Regardless, you were stuck on what action you should take.

Caution was definitely one. Though it hadn't harmed you in any way and was looking pretty beat up itself, you couldn’t run the risk of being too trusting too early only to end up with your throat ripped out.

There, of course, is still the question as to how it was able to enter holy lands such as these, lands protected from such devilish creatures.

They were supposed to combust into flames upon entering, right?

Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath, letting a scowl settle onto your face as you glared at this ‘Midoriya,’ “Why are you h-”

“Wait, wait wait!” he suddenly shouted out, arms waving frantically in front of his burning red face, “B-before uh! You do whatever you’re going to do, c-can you..” words were whispered under his breath as his arms wrapped childishly around his head, averting his gaze to the side, “Can you fix.. your garments…? Please?”

Stunned, you gaped at him, confused as to what he meant. Fix your garments? They were perfectly fine!

Only, they werent.

To your utter horror, your loose robe had begun to slip, completely exposing your left shoulder and the top of your breast.

It probably would have been more embarrassing if you didn’t still have a bit of adrenaline coursing through your veins, so naturally, you nonchalantly fixed up your robe.

Izuku sighed in relief, arms unraveling from his head.

“Now, what was your ques-”

“Why are you here.” You repeated, wanting definite answers as to what the fuck a demon was doing in these parts, and why it crashed into your beautiful house.

Hell, a bird just flew in! It’s going to be unimaginably cold in here tonight!

“Thats a uh,” he chuckled nervously, eyes drifting to look out into the forest covered in morning dew as he lightly scratched at his cheek with that sharp nail. He shifted so that he was sitting with his legs crossed over one another, tail flopping onto his lap to no doubt keep his decency.

He was clearly naked. How had you not noticed this before?

Where you too caught up in your head to realize this entire time he was bare?

And yet he had the gall to tell you to fix yourself up? It was hard to tell if he was being a gentleman or a fool.

Regardless, you ‘d never seen a naked man before. Perhaps muscular arms at most as village men helped their wives and older folk about.

But completely in the nude? Bare chest, legs out? Never.

You’d have to swallow down that bubble of nervousness, ignoring the heat on your cheeks, too eager to hear his answer rather than get wrapped up in ‘oh god he’s hot’ thoughts.

“A long story..”

“Everyone always says its a long story. Stop avoiding the question, and answer it before I cut your head off!” You bravely declared, only for his viridescent eyes flashing with mischief to flicker over to you with a momentary smirk on his lips.

It was almost as if his face turned into the personification of ‘is that so?’ and honestly, you do not blame him for reacting in such a way. You didn’t even know how to hold this old katana until a few minutes ago when told you how.

He was obviously trying to hide that display of cockiness as he coughed into his tattooed fist, “Well, if you’ve got the time-”

“I do.”

“H-how much?”

Eye twitching with aggravation, you promptly sat down on your knees, the sun-warmed tatami mat beneath you offering some comfort to your chilled bones.

“As long as you need.”

It didn’t take long for him to spit out his story, having no real choice in the matter.

Apparently, he was an exiled demon.

Who knew demons of all things could be banished from the underworld?

According to him, demons were the incarnation of evil, bred from human hatred and misery, taught to become a monster who wreaks havoc on the innocent and guilty, but he was different.

Since birth, or his ‘manifestation’ as he strangely called it, he was much kinder than those around him. Pure and sweet, hiding it behind a mask of cruelty in fear of the banishment now bestowed upon him.

So here he is in all his glory, a permanent seal of banishment printed in black ink onto his left pectoral in the form of broken kanji and crescent moons.

It was quite a lovely mark, really, but to him, it meant lonely freedom.

But, who knew demons can’t fly for shit in the rain? Certainly not him. Salty water splattered in his eyes, blinding him after a loud crack of lightning tore a scream from his throat - which explained the cries of an animal in pain.

And so he crashed through your home, a scared animal.

It was hard to tell if you were lucky or not, considering the charms didnt work at all.

At least you had a reason now, the mark he was branded with took away his demonic possession.

He was more of a human now than a demon, powers stripped away, not that he used them.

The only problem was, he looked like a demon.

Horns? Check. Reptillian eyes? Check. Lare, bat-like wings? Check. A tail that looks like it could easily stab someone? Check.

Not to mention the strange tattoos under his eyes and on his left arm, something he was supposedly born with and which was unique to himself only.

To you, the intricate tattoo looked like a bunny ensnared in thorny vines on his arm, but he was quick to take offense before laughing boyishly.

You were absolutely stuck on what you should do with him.

Tossing him to the snakes and boars would surely be too cruel, but keeping a demon in your house?

How maddening! You were lucky no one came around these parts to snoop in on whats inside.

Though, despite it being absolutely ludicrous, you allowed it. That is, because of his promise that he’d fix your window. Heavens know you certainly cant do it yourself.

He was insistent that you should sleep in the dusty guest bedroom, a smaller room with a mere futon and window, lacking the furniture you had, as he stood guard at the opening at night.

Demons apparently didnt sleep much?

Lucky you.

And so now, by events you never could have seen coming, you have a giant cat looming over your shoulder.

It was hard not to let your guard down so fast around him when he was so.. innocent. So open and kind, always willing to help around the house, and always quick to jump away if he began to do something wrong.

His curiosity was truly adorable, though.

Most days he’d stare in wonder at something new with an awestruck expression, eyes sparkling as he’d take a brush and ink, scribbling down notes about it in a foreign language on a piece of parchment, even attempting to draw it. He would always ask you about it later, showing you what he had written down, and if you could answer, you would. He’d always thank you profusely before writing down what you’d said.

You couldn’t understand what he wrote, it’d always be a mystery, but it certainly was an intricate language.

The only problem was he was so used to being naked all the time that it was an embarrassing struggle to get him to not only get into clothes but to also wear them. The most he was willing to wear was a sash from as robe wrapped around his waist. He disliked the constricting feeling of fabric clinging to his body, slipping out of it whenever you got him dressed.

It really did give you the chance to actually know what a man looked like, that, as well as study him. He was littered with scars ranging from small, faded, fresh, large, it truly was a painful sight the days you decided to dwell on them.

He had told you a few stories already about how he had gotten certain ones, and most stories were ones filled with pride and determination, winning fights or protecting others.

Each scar held an interesting story, except the one on his neck, which was gained from forgetting he had sharp nails in a fit of frustration.

As you found out later that first day of knowing him, his wings and horns had the ability to shrink, not only giving him more mobility inside the house, but also taking away that spike of anxiety whenever you’d see them near a fragile object. Besides, their tiny selves were oh so cute, not that you’d ever openly say that.

And so, two weeks had passed, and there was still that dreadful broken window. Izuku had been kind enough to clean up the mess he made, insisting to do so after your intense interrogation, so it truly was an out of place marker of destruction now.

Its stay was to be expected, considering you didn’t have a replacement. No, you’d need to buy one.

Oh, buying. A poor man’s nightmare.

But as it turns out, demons are quite good at finding valuable things in the wilderness.

Or at least, that’s what he explained to you when he showed up one morning covered in dirt and mud, twigs all in his hair, boring an appearance similar to his first arrival, showing off a handful of silver and copper coins, as well as two golden ones.

In short, you were too busy drooling at the sight to care about how exactly he got it.

Travelers were often dropping coins anyway, so it surely doesn’t matter. Besides, his accomplished smile was far too sweet to tarnish with questions.

“You’re dirty, again.” you bluntly pointed out after thanking him for his find, pouring the coins into a small, worn pouch containing only two copper. Tying it up, you were quick to place it back on the shelf, hiding it behind a book of heroic tales.

“O-oh.. I didn’t notice..” he laughed awkwardly in that boyish manner he seemed to always have, large hands immediately going to brush off the caked mud on his legs and arms.

“Absolutely not, mister! I just cleaned!” Scolding him, you grabbed his wrist before he had the chance, glaring up into his surprised, foresty green snake-like eyes.

“If you’re going to shake your dirty little self off, go do it outside!”

At times, you acted more like a mother than you did anything else with him. But to be fair, he did come to this practical new world without any true knowledge of its customs, what you can and cannot do. Surely not making the house someone let you graciously stay in dirty was a universal thing.

He openly stared at you, innocent eyes glistening and wobbly lips reminding you of a kicked puppy.

Ouch.

“S-sorry,” he promptly apologized, attention snapping to your smaller hand still gripping his wrist, pink dusting over his chubby, freckled cheeks.

Sighing, you patted his large arm, picking up on the way it made his wings flutter, “It’s alright. Just go pat yourself off outside. I’ll set up a bath for you. I don’t need dirt everywhere in here again.”

Nodding eagerly, a bright smile overtook his face, showing off his unusually sharp canines.

Perhaps you would’ve been afraid had he shown them off in a vicious way again, but he was far too excited at the prospect of submerging his body in heated water to seem at all threatening.

You watched for a split second as he ran off, head instantly whipping to the side when he suddenly threw off the measly piece of fabric wrapped around his thin waist, tail curling around his muscular leg that you definitely haven’t been staring at throughout all this time.

You would have yelled after him for stripping if you weren’t so flustered.

You’d doubt you’d ever get used to it, seeing him nearly naked all the time. Artists were right to draw demons naked it seems, they truly didnt have any shame.

A blessing and a curse.

Grumbling, you began the long process of filling the metal tub with buckets of water from the well out back, igniting a small flame beneath it so the water would be warm upon his arrival.

Speaking of which, he was taking an unusual amount of time.

Surely you didn’t have to be worried, but it had been at least half an hour at this point, right? It doesn’t take that long to brush yourself down, does it?

Unease built in your gut, and you began pacing around the house, chewing anxiously at your fingernails as the old boards creaked beneath your feet.

He was very capable of handling himself, he was a fairly strong and intimidating soul, but what if he ran into someone? Your house wasn’t too far from the village, it was very plausible that he could’ve run into a hunter!

What if he was dead!

Oh gods, was he dead?!

And you had just put so much effort into running a bath for him!

Should you look for him?

What if he doesnt come home?

Maybe he’s lost?

Or stuck in a trap!

There were so many different possibilities, that your feet began to move on their own, the long sleeves of your kimono flapping behind you as you rushed towards the door where he had jumped out of, only to slam into a much larger and sturdier frame the minute you were about to exit.

“Hyah!” you cried out from surprise, being knocked backward.

Two hands quickly caught your flailing arms before you had the chance to land flat on your ass.

Looking up in a panic, you were relieved to see the familiar, warm green gaze of Izuku.

“Careful!” he was now the one to scold, playfully pouting his reddened lips. Breathless from worry and slamming into him, you jumped to your feet, taking a moment to catch your breath.

“D-don’t tell me to b-be careful!” whining, embarrassed at the fact that you had been pressed so close to him, you adjusted your oversized kimono that had slipped ever-so-slightly at the rough collision.

“Mmm~ Be careful?” he teased, leaning down just to purr beside your flushed face his cold, dangling earring tickling the skin at your neck.

Smacking his shoulder, you let out an annoyed huff, only to screech a second after, blood burning your cheeks as you turned away so quickly you could hear the sleeves slap against his body, “Put some clothes on, damnit!!”

“I thought I had to be naked for a bath?” It was annoying how you could tell he was pulling your strings, no doubt his head was tilting as he batted his lashes at your smaller frame, like he always did when given the chance to be a tease.

Growling to yourself, you pointed off to the direction where the bath was prepared, desperate to escape from this trap you had set yourself in, “Then go bathe, you dirty, dirty boy!” At this point, you were on the verge of flat out shoving him into the bathroom, wanting to escape from his nude self.

You’d clearly have to start forcing him to wear clothes more, putting your foot down if he was to stay in this house.

You did not need a heart attack every morning at seeing a naked man waiting eagerly for you to awake, only for a wide smile to blossom on his face, tail thumping loudly on the ground and wings flapping like a bird when he noticed you blink your eyes open.

Of course, a pillow was always thrown at him, the plea for him to wear some clothes always on your tongue, but alas, you were lucky if he wore his piece of fabric, that flimsy sash you had half as mind at throwing away just so he would be forced to wear something else.

“O-okay..” his shy self seeped back in, his fingers visibly poking together, an anxious habit you presumed. Feet thumping against the floor, he traveled down the hall and to the bath, a loud gasp echoing down the corridor when he noisily jumped in, water sloshing. “So warm!”

“Please clean up your mess-!”

It was almost like dealing with a child, except this child was hundreds of years older than you and a grown-ass man, if that was a positive or negative- you’d never know.

It wasn’t until the next day you got him to fully wear a kimono, an old one your father had left behind. It fitted him, truly, black with green vines snaking down the sides and wrapping around the cuffs. It was a nightmare to get him in it, though.

Not that he wasn’t obedient, no, he truly did try his best to please you, but perhaps it just wasn’t something he could easily comprehend just yet, not to mention you had to somehow squeeze his wings into the outfit.

His tail was easy to hide due to the kimono reaching the floor, but thank god for hats because truly it was impossible to hide his horns any other way.

But the poor man was clearly unhappy, lips pouty and eyes droopy as he shifted from one foot to the other.

“They.. feel weird..” he tried to explain, pulling at the neckline, only for you to swat his hand away. “You’ll get used to it.” you reassured.

Grabbing the coin pouch you had placed on the shelf, you made him carry a sack over his shoulder, something to not only hide his lumpy wing covered back but to also carry the supplies you’d be purchasing soon.

It would be impossible to hide his facial markings, so you didn’t attempt. The thought of smearing mud on his cheeks did cross your mind, but alas, that would look suspicious. If only tattoos weren’t so taboo, and if only he didn’t have such suspicious ones.

Everyone in the village knew you, knew your story, and they knew you were alone. You had no doubts they’d ask who this mysterious stranger was, or at least openly gawk at him. You could avoid certain nosey fuckers, but at times it was unavoidable

Grabbing his sleeve, you led him out the front door, quick to slide it shut before walking down the dirt trail.

Perhaps you could say he was a distant relative? You didn’t have any distant relatives, so that would, unfortunately, be a bust. You placed your finger on your chin, thinking as you allowed your body to walk down the familiar path on autopilot, head in the clouds as you thought.

Curse these nosy ass people, already knowing everything about you!

Perhaps he was a traveler you found lost in the storm? Or he found you?

No.. that wouldn't explain the markings..

You needed to come up with something!

Grrr!

Oh! Oh! Wait!

“Midoriya..” you began, tilting your head curiously towards him.

His lips pressed into a thin line, already recognizing that mischievous glint in your mesmerizing (e/c) eyes.

Was that even a way he should describe them? Perhaps not, but he would be a fool to disagree with the statement formed in his head.

Gulping, he stuttered out nervously, focus shifting from you to the path in front of his wooden sandal-clad feet, shoes he wasnt too happy with, “Y-yes..?”

“Do you know what ninja’s are?”

You’re a genius.

“I, uhm, I’ve heard about them..why?”

“Mmm.. what have you heard?”

“Just that they’re skilled with a blade and sneaking around..” He looked at you dumbly, eyebrow arched as you only smiled back at him, adding to his own confusion.

“You’re gonna be a ninja, then.” You boldly declared out, catching his arm as he suddenly stumbled over a rock as he sputtered.

“W-wha?! B-but I- I’m n-not a ninja!”

“I know that, but listen! The people at the village don’t! I have no doubts they’re going to poke and prod at you, wondering who you are.. A ninja that stumbled upon my house in the middle of a storm would explain your sudden appearance and your facial tattoos, and Hell, even your eyes!”

Filled with a sense of victory, you grinned ear to ear, amazed at how you had come up with such a solution on the spot.

You truly were creative.

A gift, maybe.

Oh, man! All the village women are going to be so jealous! Always quick to say you’d end up alone, but boy were they wrong! Here you have it, a ninja demon following you around! Suck on that, widows!

Wanting to gauge his reaction, seeing as he went oddly silent, you looked over at him, only to stop in your tracks and have your arms go limp by your sides.

“W-wha…” face scrunching up, you stared at him, bewildered. He was pointing at his cheek, smirking at you, showing off the fact that not only had his eyes gained a human-like pupil, which now looked odd on him, but the fact that the markings now looked like smudged paint.

It was dumbfounding.

“What the hell happened to your face..” trailing off, you couldnt help but scratch at your head, running possibilities through your mind but coming up with no true solution.

“Demons have the ability to switch from eyes that can see well in the dark to eyes that cannot! I forgot about it until you pointed them out, to be honest! So thank you for that!”

He was smiling boyishly again, only to flush deeply as you grabbed his face, soft, small hands on his cheeks, pulling him down to your height as you examined his features.

“(Y-Y/N).?!” he squeaked, breath catching in his throat as you peered deeply into his surprised green orbs, face so close he could feel your nose brushing against his, and all he could do was stand still.

His hot breath was ragged as it fanned across your face, and though he knew you were examining the sudden change in appearance, he couldn’t help the way his heart hammered in his chest. You were so, so close!! He swore if he just.. leaned forward ever so slightly, he could.. Catch your lips in a sweet kiss. He glanced down, focus going hazy as he zeroed in the way your lips shined in the sunlight trickling just barely through the gaps of leaves above him, forcing his own lips to twitch in anticipation.

Would it be so bad if he, hypothetically speaking, kissed you right now?

Oh, what a thought!

He couldnt tell. Hell, he couldnt even think.

Your scent was so intoxicating at this moment, flooding his senses, and it left his devilish desires to want more, fingers inching towards your waist.

He was knocked out of his strangely lustful thoughts when you repeatedly papped his cheek to catch his attention.

Body going stiff, his hands flung back to his own sides before jerking his head up to look at you once more. Had you been talking to him? Did you say something? He didnt know, his attention hyperfocused on… something else at the time.

Your aggravated tone cut through his body like a freshly sharpened steel blade, noticing the way your face scrunched up once more at finding he hadnt heard you the first time.

“I said, what did you do to your eye markings?”

“H-huh?!” he stuttered out, only to internally slap himself as he took a moment to process the question, “I- I just.. smeared some mushed up black berries on m-my cheek..”

It was embarrassing to admit such a thing, especially considering his right hand is still sticky with its pigmented juice, droplets dripping from his fingers. He had half a mind to lick them up, sucking on the digits just to gauge your reaction as you watched him so intensely. No! Bad, bad Izuku! Stop that!

“I-I thought it could be.. like some sort of ink.. b-but I didn’t have any ink on me so- so I grabbed some berries..”

“Is that why you smell so sweet? I was tempted to lick your cheek for a minute there.” Confessing that, you ended the conversation by spinning around and walking on. Delays were never good, especially since you didn’t have all day, and you definitely wanted to sleep in your own room tonight. The guest one was.. a bit too stuffy for your liking.

He followed you, huffily licking at the juice covering his hand and ignoring the stickiness coating his lips and cheeks.

Next time, he would be sure to use a sort of paint or something. At least then it could be marked off as some sort of fashion trend and not actual tattoos. After all, what innocent man had tattoos?

Of course, for his kind, they were common and apart of your identity, but here? It was a symbol of bad luck it seemed. Impurity. Not that he wasnt impure.

“Walk faster!” You called back to him, alerting the green-haired man lost in his thoughts that he had been walking too slow.

“C-coming!”

It wasnt too long before you had finally reached the entrance to the village, taking a moment to look over the old wooden arch covered in vines before walking past. Your sandals, as well as his own, clopped against the cobblestone road.

Though it was early morning, and the sun was barely even awake, townsfolk were already bustling through the place. Kids were running around barefoot, doing chores or having fun, farmers were wheeling in their goods in squeaky carts, calling out for business, and shops were being opened.

Distantly, you could hear the crackle of a fire and smell the pungent scent of meat being cooked sweets being baked in the air, only making you drool at the thought of consuming something so tasty after eating home-grown vegetables for so long.

The village was dead silent at night but in the morning? It was warm and welcoming, filled with friendly, smiling faces and gossiping mothers as they hung clothes out to dry.

You swore you could even hear the light picking at an instrument and the barking of dogs far off on the other side of town.

Birds chirped happily in the sky, singing their age-old songs as they searched for someone to love.

It truly was a breath of fresh air, the friendly atmosphere far different than the much quieter one in the mountain.

You missed it.

You were convinced for a while the reason you stayed away so long was to quite literally teach a demon manners, but you were quick to regret your mistake upon reentering this world. The energy of the place stabbed at your heart, and your fingers itched with the desire to stay here for as long as possible. Perhaps even buy some bread while youre here. Heaven knows you need more ingredients, and with the jingle of the pouch you carried ringing in your ear with every step, you were reminded you could actually afford it for once.

Sure, cooking and chopping vegetables was alright, a fun pass time that brought you comfort and worth, but damn did you miss being lazy for a change.

Besides, you now had the manpower to carry quite a lot, right?

Speaking of, that same demon was currently hiding behind you, hands clutching at your kimono sleeve as his shy face barely peeked out from behind your head.

“Are.. you alright?” you asked hesitantly, worried that perhaps he was scared or something set off some sort of weird sixth scent.

“I-i’m okay..! T-there's just so many people around.. I’m.. a bit..” he trailed off, looking down at his feet once more.

“Shy.” you concluded, nodding your head in understanding.

This was the first time he would be around other humans besides yourself, so it made sense why he was a bit timid.

In all honesty, it just made him even cuter and less threatening, not that he ever truly was as you came to realize the more you got to know this fluffy boy.

That's not to say it didn't also fill you with a motherly need to protect him, or perhaps it was pride. Either way, your cheeks couldn't help but flush with him being so close, a reaction you still were trying to get used to, despite being up close and personal not ten minutes ago. Then again, that was on your terms, wasn’t it? This? This was certainly out of the blue. So it made sense.

Walking along, you waved to the occasional person, a plethora of “good morning!”’s and “I’m alright, how are you?” fleeing from your person with each minimal interaction. It was a blessing no one has yet to question who the mysterious stranger with dripping berry juice on his face was, but it certainly made a lot of people stop in their tracks and look your way.

How flustering… you thought to yourself as you pushed on, eventually grabbing Izuku’s wrist and pulling him along with you.

“The shop is just down here.” you told him, to which he nodded his head, far too shy to speak. Hell, you were sure he was close to chewing his own clothes from nerves at this point with that look of hesitation, fear, and child-like curiosity in his eyes.

It wasn't hard to miss the way his head whipped around, taking in the new environments with near open arms, visually studying each and every object he saw, but never asking a question about it, almost as if he was afraid speaking with glee and wonder would cause too much of a ruckus, attracting even more attention.

You had no doubts he would drown you in them once you got back home, or maybe even in a few minutes if something utterly mind-blowing caught his attention, but for now, you had to focus on gathering things.

You had eventually made it to the repair shop, full intentions on buying the wood needed to replace the frame, as well as a new window covering. It was old and damn near rotting off the wall anyway, it truly was needed.

Though it certainly was unusual to have such a thing in a bedroom where someone could easily break-in. But it was the mountains, so there wasn’t much to fear. After all, who in their right minds would wander a forest in the middle of the night just to break into a poor woman’s home?

Leaving Izuku to stay outside to collect himself as he shook like a leaf in the wind, you stepped inside the open shop, immediately greeted with the smell of freshly chopped wood and burning embers, a fire burning in the back no doubt. This was a supply shop for home repair, after all.

“Ah! Little Miss (L/N)! I haven't seen you in a while, my dear. Where have you been?” An elderly grandfather emerged from the back, hand pressed to the wall to lean against it. For his age, he was surprisingly in stable conditions, no doubt from the strenuous work he’d done all his life.

It was hard to forget that the elders here always had an eye open, so naturally, he would be the first to question your sudden disappearance when given a true chance. So far you’d only seen people your age and children out and about doing deeds for the older folk and earning their dinner.

Just as you were about to answer, you were cut off, “Oh? Who’s this?”

Not bothering to glance back, already knowing full well it was the curious Izuku who finally manage to swallow his anxieties and peak in, “He’s-”

“A ninja!” he exclaimed, jumping to your side excitedly as you huffed in irritation at being cut off two times in a row.

It certainly was odd that he spoke out so enthusiastically, considering he had been nothing but reluctant to speak the entire time you were in the village, but what was even more shocking was how he continued the plan of referring to him as a ninja.

A stupid plan you now came to realize, sounding out of place. You should’ve gone with a better idea and not have acted so cockily when you came up with it on the spot.

Oh, the familiar feeling of regret.

It was strange though, especially since you were sure he was against the idea in the first place, so why had he gone along with it?

Truly, you couldn't exactly care less. This was his mess now.

“A.. ninja.?” Furukawa, the old man, questioned, giving the both of you a perplexed look. “We haven't seen one around these parts since I was a but boy. What is a ninja doing here of all places? A meek little village like this?”

Oh. That’s right.

You had forgotten they didn't thrive out here in the country, but in the city and for generals leading wars.

What was a ninja doing out here indeed. Boy were you not bright when it came to thinking on the spot.

Leaning back and crossing your arms, you decided to let the excited demon explain for you, since you certainly hadn't a clue what to say.

“I’m here for no particular reason, sir! I had gotten lost in the mountains during that thunderstorm a few weeks back, and I just so happened to stumble upon the (L/N)’s home. I was lucky she was willing to take me in, for I had injured myself and needed time to heal. I truly owe her my life, for I doubt I would have been able to find a safe place to rest and recover that night if not for her generosity. I vowed to return the favor, and you know ninjas, never one to break a promise, and so I am here to help gather things to repair something I had broken. Though I’m sure we have bad rep around these parts nowadays, I assure you I have no intention of harming anyone. I vowed to protect the innocent, and that is what I will do! I’ll fight the evil of these lands with my own two-!”

You snapped him out of his rambling by gripping at his arm, surprised at how he had managed to come up with what to say so quickly. Hell, his eyes were even hardened with determination. He was very convincing.

It definitely made you suspicious of what his true intentions were, if he actually wanted to be a ninja of all things or if he was playing a part and not realizing the potential consequences.

Oh well?

What was even more surprising was how the old man wept, dramatically wiping his aged, teary eyes. “Oh, you good man! We need more men like you around here! My son is a lazy lump of bricks who won’t even help out around here”

“I am here now! Allow me to assist whenever!” Izuku stated righteously, fist raised high and mighty.

At this point, you were just a background character in some sort of weird show as these two practically danced around each other with declarations and tears.

Shaking your head, you quickly cut them off, needing to get things done today and not mess around any longer, “I was wondering if you had the material for a new window?”

“Oh! A window!”

“Yes.. I need a replacement for the one he had broken.”

“You youngsters are always breaking windows these days..” he complained, wiping at his brow before hobbling to the back again.”One moment please.”

Nodding, despite him not even seeing, you waited patiently in near awkward silence, teetering back and forth on your wooden heels.

“Did I uh..” the green-haired man's apprehensive whisper barely caught your ear, “did I go overboard, you think?”

That question was enough to bring giggles bubbling out over your throat, only for him to frantically wave his arms about in front of you, “I-i’m serious!”

Your giggles soon turned into laughs, only making his cheeks redden from embarrassment before he wrapped his arms around his head.

“Just,” you wheezed, “Just a bit, Midoriya.”

You weren’t used to being near people so passionate and enthusiastic about things, especially things made up. It was peculiar and yet it still brought a grin to your face.

Groaning, he looked off to the side, waiting patiently for the old man to return and to end his suffering as you continuously poked at his rosy cheek.

“I think you’d make a great ninja.” you whispered in his ear, breath tickling his skin and making baby hairs stand on end as you leaned over his crouched form, his hands resting on his knees as if to calm himself, unknowingly leaving him wide open for teases he deserved after what had happened the day before.

Gulping down the lump of nervousness in his throat, ridding himself of thoughts he shouldnt be having again, his head whipped back to look at you, eyes glimmering with excitement, “Ah, really?!”

You were unsure of how he would become one, but, “Yes.” you smiled gently, knowing full well already that he could do anything he set his mind to, a stubborn yet determined man he was.

“No kanoodlin in my shop!” Furukawa had suddenly appeared, damn near hitting the two of you upside the head with a stick.

You were quick to pay him for the materials, nearly tripping over yourself with giggles as Izuku looks nothing short of terrified with how the elderly man glared at him, no doubt piercing through his meek soul. Once you finished loading and securing the supplies in the shoulder bag, you grabbed two of his fingers before pulling him out of the shop with a friendly wave towards the grouchy old man who begrudgingly waved back.

A horse trotted in front of the both of you as you walked out, a loud wagon filled with hay creaking behind it as you continued on down the road in the opposite direction.

“That was.. nerve wracking..” Izuku sighed, one hand clutching the strap to the bag tightly whilst the other goes back to holding your sleeve, no longer cowering behind you as he openly gawks at the abundance of people strolling through the area, as well as eyeing up all the animals wandering about and making all sorts of noises.

“It was a pretty typical interaction to me,” you confessed, shrugging nonchalantly as he groans heavily.

“Are we heading back now?” he questioned, itching to beg you to let him stay if just for a bit longer. He was excited about being out like this, reading many stories revolving around normalities such as these. He had never experienced such a thing before, and it was thrilling, to say the least.

He felt as if he was on cloud nine, observing so many new things and being up close to other things he thought he would never get to see or touch, or, well, smell.

It was as if he himself was in one of the many books he’d read, skipping happily through each page as his wings twitched beneath the fabric with excitement, luckily covered up by the large sack of supplies.

He didn’t want to leave, but he would if you didn't like the idea of staying.

He could always come back with you another time, after all.

But damn did the prospect of going home at this moment dampen his cheery mood. Hell, he could even feel his wings pressed against him droop from inside the kimono at the prospect of doing so.

He was really hoping you wouldn't say yes.

He’d cross his fingers if he could.

“No.”

“Ah, well alright.. we can come back another time right?" It was as if he didn't hear you, too used to being put down and denied that happiness swelling inside his chest.

He continued to walk forward, head bowed down as he stared sadly at the rocks only to be yanked back as your hand slapped onto his wrist for the third time that day. He could get used to that if he was being honest.

He looked back at you, staring blankly as he tried to figure out why you had stopped and why you were giving him such a baffled look.

Had he done something wrong?

Said something wrong?

Or maybe his mere presence had annoyed you.

He hadn't the slightest clue, and he could only helplessly stare at you as he awaited a reason as to why you stopped, heartbeat hammering in his chest and fear squeezing his lungs, rendering him unable to speak.

You raised your eyebrow in question, and that's when it hit him like a rock.

You had said no, not yes!

Oh geez!

That sounds so backwards honestly!

“A-ah! I’m sorry! Oh, I thought y-you said yes!” he screeched, fumbling over his words and inwardly fighting himself at being so stupid.

He was about to go on and ramble out an apology, his nerves strangling him alive, but you had easily cut him off, “It’s alright, don’t worry about it, okay? We’re going to stay out and about for a bit longer. I wanted to show you some things, and get some ingredients if you don’t mind?"

Not that you would really give him the option to mind, besides- you knew that far off look in his eyes too well, it was the same look of wonder in your own eyes when you were a child.

It truly was endearing, you couldn't help but want to indulge in it for a bit, even if you were going to be doing other things anyway.

To hell with putting the window up this evening, perhaps the next. For now, you just wanted a break from having to train a demon by- well. Informing one instead.

“Really!” he exclaims, face immediately lighting up, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled. He's suddenly jumping for joy, shoes making a loud clacking noise that catches the attention of village-folk once again, much to your introverted horror. “Y-you have places you want to show me!? O-oh gosh! Can we go see them now? Oh, there are so many things I want to see here! So many things I’ve read about!”

“Midoriya..” you called out to him hopelessly, wanting to calm him down.

“I want to see a bakery!! To- to smell the freshly baked bread and pastries! I can smell them right now,” he sniffed at the air, eyes slipping closed for a second, tongue poking out as he drooled, “they- they smell so good! I’ve always wondered how they mix ingredients together and fire them to make something so delicious.. How do they know what ingredients to use? How did they find those ingredients? I want to know! Do they memorize how to do it, you think??! And, and a blacksmiths shop! Swords are forged from fire, it sounds so magical, but there must be logic of some kind behind it! Logic I don’t quite understand yet but want to! I want to see it in action, know how they’re made in the first place. It’s from melting rocks right? Or, or metal?! How do they shape the swords? Which material and technique is best to use for the best result? Is that loud banging the making of swords right now? Or something else?”

“Midoriya…”

“Is there a library around here? No, no I guess there wouldn't be one here.. books? I want to know all about the culture of these lands, in more detail! I, I want to see how people's minds work, how they write their feelings or facts down on pages. You can learn a lot from a person based on how they tell a story, you know! Oh! And I also-!”

He excitedly jabbered on, drawing laughter and gleeful smiles from the people as they passed, only fueling to the heat on your cheeks as they whispered about the cute, excited man rambling on about different aspects of regular life. It was almost too much to understand or even comprehend, let alone answer all in one go. His words were flying over your head from how fast he was speaking.

And so, you simply stood there, off to the side of the road, wringing your hands together as you let him express his pure delight with an abundance of words.

He was a curious person like you’d thought to yourself before, that was for sure.

It got to the point where you were sure nearly five or so minutes had passed, and you didn't want to see how long this could go on for.

Because you knew it could go on for a long while, having been with him for a few weeks now.

It was a loveable habit of his, one that he always was quick to shut himself up for and apologize profusely, which always pulled at your heartstrings. He had clearly been put down in his past for being so wild, curious, and excited, and that was nothing short of saddening.

You didn't want him to feel like he couldn't talk, or ask questions, hell, even be enthusiastic like he always was. It brought a hint of sugar and spice to your plain life.

So, perhaps another time, but in front of a multitude of onlookers, ready to prod into your lives from how hard they were staring? Absolutely not, unfortunately.

Grabbing his sleeve, you yanked at his, successfully pulling him from his thoughts as his focus snapped over to where your hand was, “Huh?” he asked obliviously, turning to look at you with a tilted head but still cheery smile, green bangs brushing over his eyebrows, making you want nothing more than to sweep them away from his face.

Physical contact, as you learned, was always a better way to get him to focus rather than to snap him from his thoughts with words of your own. Words always made him flinch back and shut himself off, but soft touches somehow never did, keeping the same energy he started with even as he looked at you with wonder. It would often make you wonder why he flinched, or reacted in such a heartbreaking way whenever you’d cut him off with your own words, perhaps an untold story from his past waiting to be unraveled or kept under lock and key. Some things were best not to remember, after all.

Though he told you he was happy to be gone from the place he never truly considered home, you still held some minor doubts.

It was always the kind ones who smiled the brightest like a star in the sky that had the most to hide.

“Do you want to go and experience some of those things that you mentioned? I’m pretty hungry myself, so we could try a bakery right now if you would like? The one here is owned by a nice family, recipes passed down for generations. They got a pretty good grasp of things”

His brows quickly flew up, momentary shock flashing in his eyes before being covered by embarrassment, he had just now realized he rambled on. A momentary delay it seemed.

“S-sure.. eheh..” he chuckled nervously, hand squeezing the bags strap tightly once again as he used his other hand to wrap around his torso. He certainly was bashful for someone who was ‘bred from darkness’, if that red on his cheeks and how he avoided eye contact were anything to go by.

“Let’s go, then.” placing your hand on the much larger one glued to his side, you slowly peeled it away before gingerly holding it, ignoring the stuttered gibberish that trickled from his mouth at the action as you led him to the place that made saliva drip from his mouth.

At the end of the day, you were walking home on sore feet, arms clutching at a flimsy woven basket someone graciously gave you for free containing foods you needed to stock up on.

Izuku, on the other hand, was practically skipping, words flowing from his lips like a waterfall as he reviewed what he learned today, occasionally looking over at your tired form to make sure you were alright. He had offered multiple times to carry the basket, even going as far as trying to grab it, but you refused, wanting to do so yourself since he was now carrying a basket and a bag of his own.

Stubborn, ironically, was the way he described you with a pouty lip, and you had to agree.

It truly was a shame you weren't able to put the new window today, considering you wanted to sleep in your own room, but there was always tomorrow. For now? You were exhausted.

So much so you weren't even sure you could cook dinner.

Demons sure did have a lot of unrelenting energy. You were being dragged around all day, only leading a few times to the places you wished to show him- you didn't even get to show him everything due to his mind moving faster than either one of you could keep up.

Once making it back to the house, you managed to convince the energetic guy to at least continue wearing his hakama after he threw off his hat and the top of his kimono, successfully freeing his wings.

Things on the floor, he gets on his hands and knees, stretching his arms and back out like a cat, his wings flapping out like a birds as he flexed the poor things.

It was horrible how he had to stuff them in his clothing all day, and it truly did make you feel bad, knowing he must have held a form of discomfort all day, hiding it seamlessly.

Perhaps you could buy more clothes for him next time, or even fabric to weave together a kimono made solely for him.

That would take a long while, but it would be cute, right?

You didn't want him to be uncomfortable in his own home.

You stopped in your tracks as this thought crossed your mind, a perplexed expression making its way onto your tired face, when had you started referring to this house as his home as well?

Had you grown so accustomed to him already that when thinking of this place, or where he lives, this old house comes to mind?

Or did your loneliness fight your conscious to bring forth such a thought out of comfort?

For the first time in years, you weren't alone. You haven't thought much about it until this moment and in a tired state of mind no less.

It was confusing, especially considering you didn't even know when you had started picking up the habit.

Looking back at him, your mouth fell from its straight-lined self to that of awe, your eyes reflecting the same thing.

The golden rays of a honey sunset dripped in through the open door, illuminating the man covered in scars, freckles and tattoos from behind, kissing at his soft, smooth skin and wrapping him in a cocoon of ease and light as he sat there, bathing in the warmth it provided.

His eyes were closed, wings relaxed and hands resting on his thighs as he took the moment in, inhaling deeply as a breeze filtered in, making his curls sway ever so slightly in a mesmerizing way.

Despite what he was or what he used to be, only one word came to your mind as you gazed at hi, ‘angelic.’

You couldn't find it in yourself to be afraid, for all you saw at this moment was a smiling man happily enjoying himself after a long day of bouncing off the walls.

You couldn't stop staring, even if it was rude, his presence enrapturing in the sweetest of ways.

You felt your own body warming at the sight, an innocent blush dancing on your cheeks, only to deepen as his eyes fluttered open, scanning the room, just to fall on you.

His pupils were back to their familiar, snake-like state, but yet they held so much compassion and kindness as if they were just as human as yours were, despite being entirely different.

Neither of you said anything, just staring into each other’s eyes in a way that should've felt weird or awkward.

But nothing about this felt awkward, in fact, it felt natural.

Like you were meant to be entranced by those addicting pools of green, glimmering with the yellows bouncing off the walls just to show your own silhouette in them. It was like staring into a never-ending forest with vines that wanted nothing more than to wrap you in a secure hug, branches of trees filled with fresh leaves swaying in the calming wind behind you as the scent of salt from the creek not too far away made you relax in their embrace.

You weren't aware how long the both of you stared at each other, but one thing was for sure, neither of you minded it, his own smile and reassurance in his gaze is enough to wash away any concerns.

The sudden loud calling of a bird snapped you out of your trance, attention flickering to the door just to see two birds chatting with each other.

“(Y/N)?” he had called out, voice laced with concern but dripping with sugary sweetness and desperation that was all too much to handle after such an intense moment, despite it just being eye contact.

But then again, the eyes were the doorway to the soul, weren't they? And it felt like much more than just that.

Regardless, you turned, ignoring his calls as you rushed to your room, hurriedly closing the door just to slide down it.

Hand clutching at the fabric above your beating heart, you just now noticed how your breath was caught in your throat, and how your heart was hammering wildly.

You breathed heavily, running fingers through your wild hair as you fought to make sense of what just happened.

The truth was, you didn't know.

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #izuku x you #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #bnha #izumonth collab #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academi #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha deku #x reader #izuku midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #midoriya x you

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royalreef · 5 years ago

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Words: 1,629 Warnings (HEAVY): Body horror, gore, death, torture, general heavy horror content.

Here it is... The drabble that I promised I would write for New Years’, but then I had to send my computer off, and I didn’t get it back until after 2020 was already here, so... Yeah! Not quite as detailed or long as I would like, but I’ve had much less time to work on it.

So, here. A late gift, from me to you, on some tasty lore hints about Miranda, the Merkingdom, and what the fuck these fish have been up to in the ocean. Enjoy!

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[CLASSIFIED – 0.3]

Translated from Modified Irides-Abyssal to English by Deluge-Tongue, Model Tlk’resh, Unit 971004772. Property of the Vanderbilt Empire under Decree CX-K-076-2.

“And did Princess Laudanda say why she thought it was imperative for this particular addition to be grafted now?”

Beneath the shifting mass of half-remembered facial features, Miranda almost thought she saw a twitch of fear along the senior overseer’s fins. It could never be proven, whether it be their shifting features or the lack of memory of who it was – but she had a keen idea what it was that they were feeling.

Changes this big always had to be approved by an immediate member of the royal family. While Laudanda might’ve ordered for the grafting, one royal or another had to bear witness and approve of it, as that was how the credentials worked. How they had to work. Amanda and Laudanda were probably both already watching other processes, back in the kingdom.

For all that the family was, all five Vanderbilts, operating as the highest titles within the Merkingdom – it was expected as any noble line that they held no bond beyond their power. It was genuinely even expected of them to care little for each other, beyond as ways to get ahead in the world, and to not do so was often seen as weakness. Hence why Miranda and Bellanda had to hide most of their sibling bond when in the eyes of the sea. Otherwise it’d be sharpened and turned against them.

Even familial love was taboo to royals.

And that meant, though one princess would demand it, the others did not always have to follow through. Even impartially relaying this information could result in the senior overseer losing things they could not afford to lose.

All the better reason, too. They had seen and done Miranda’s sins for her. They knew of the fates worse than death.

“Your Royal Highness, she did not speak in detail of it. Only that our operations on the western front were getting too close to Hell’s proximity, and that a recent foray might prove difficult otherwise. I’m sure further documentation will come through.” The voice shifter turned the usual luting notes of the language into something harsher, warped noise like hydrothermal vents through the deep sea, changing their voice and flattening their tone, but keeping the meaning there. It buzzed in Miranda’s earfins like a fly. The noise was grating. “Our stock should be enough to foster the growth and incorporation – but we will need to replenish.”

“Have the gathering spots been discovered?”

“No. We should be able to fully replace the loss within a month and a half.”

Good news, at least. Still, what Laudanda demanded was pricy, and imps could only fill the gaps so much. Miranda was already risking it, as being close to the landfolk meant they knew her too and might start to understand hints that they otherwise would’ve never seen. But they still had a sample size of one, and that was easy to utilize when almost all of them would’ve never directly interacted with the Merkingdom to begin with.

They didn’t know the true depth of the royal arsenal.

Miranda mulled it over for a moment, clicking her claws against her arm. She’d have to organize a few lures, a few ambushes, a few disappearances when none could see – but it could be done.

The loss would have to be taken, it seemed. Better to be armed to the teeth and need it to annihilate an enemy, than to lack and be defenseless when they did attack, after all. That was the entire point of having these measures, after all. Why their prices had to be paid.

After her pause, Miranda sighed, the sound instantly edited out of her speech, and approved. “If we can replace it within a season, then I’ll have the resistances added. Take the offerings from Block 4-16 and pull the supply from storage. I’ll be there in 45.”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.”

It was an unforgiving task sometimes, but this job was just another natural part of Miranda’s own title. It came in the territory. The overseer turned and left, while Miranda finished up on checking the rest of recent activities.

Someday, she assured herself – she’d get used to this.

That terror in her gut would flee.

Someday.

Down Miranda was shuttled in her private drop, led into the deepest depths of her castle. A place no guest could ever find, no psychic could ever scribe, no god could ever foresee. It took scarcely a few minutes, but the distance travelled still showed in how Miri waited a moment to readjust to walking, like when she had first come to land and learned what gravity felt like.

Her dignity gathered, or what little the thaumaturgical protection robes offered her, and made her way from the loading docks. The last living guards were stationed here. It was a personal checkpoint, a creature with eyes and sense to make sure no one unapproved was making their way past. For Miranda, all it took was a scan of her biometrics and a pass of her credentials. Then, she strolled her way past the gargantuan gates of steel and hydraulics, and entered the ritual barriers.

It was a bit of a walk to the innermost level; Miranda’s destination. Her path was naught but a single tightrope of a bridge, dwarfed by the great walls around her. Built of steel and lead and concrete and things far stranger – they took the shape of spheres around each other. A nesting doll for the horrors within, with the single bridge threading through, and the crown princess making her way within.

Her only company was the faint shimmer of the ritual sigils cut into the walls of the spheres, pulsing like they were alive.

In a way, they were.

That was made apparent, as Miranda’s walk grew on. Distant at first, then closer, like a forest of bleached redwoods, came the shape of spires of bone. They strung the layers of spherical chambers together, keeping them suspended, veins of purple and red pushing into the innermost layers of the ritual boundary walls.

They too, with honeycomb marrow in the shape of spells, kept the entity they contained within so distant and far from the world many miles above.

To a visiting guest, the innermost barrier, nestled tightly in the bone growths, might have been an ominous warning as to what lay within.

But Miranda had seen far, far more horrifying than this, and so the terror that settled into her gut was mundane. Almost familiar.

Into the ritual circle she stepped.

The offerings were already in place – strapped to vertical boards, facing each other, only blindfolds to spare them mercy. A cyclops and a werewolf, both of which Miranda had kept gathered for a while now.

Those that none would miss when they vanished mysteriously in the night. The Merkingdom was good at finding those undesirables and removing them from existence.

Fresh bodies were always needed in these depths.

The demonic flesh, requested by Laudanda, was already in place. Impressions of faces, of limbs, of entities that used to live, were shaped into otherwise featureless pillars and arranged around the outermost rim of the ritual space. From there, they fed into the centerpiece by veins like tarry ink that wound through the floor, completing the space. All the while they pulsed sickly, deeper into the shuttering supply, pulsating in iridescent colors unlike that which really existed.

Miranda tried not to look too hard at them.

There, nested in the heart of this corrupt magick, lay the abomination.

It was the misshapen form of a teratoma, left to grow and grow and spread without control.

Cancer of the real.

The crown’s great destroyers.

Thousands of other additions had already joined in. Lives tossed in, fed to it, and left to grow, to become one with the corrupt. Indeed, there were the fins and gills and teeth of merfolk, already replicated and mutated by the entity – but other monsters were there too. Vertebrates and not, animals, plants, and beasts alike. All were consumed. All were destroyed. All were made one.

Even machinery had not been spared, by the sight of metal plates, of wires, of pistols and gun barrels and screens.

The marriage of all things, and its nightmarish bastard child too.

Distorted faces, ripped apart by their own internal growth, jaws and ribs and muscle thrown in without care to where they connected, organs without cause, without meaning. Wires that twisted into nerves and nerves that twisted into wires. Eyes that burst like pimples from the ends of tongues, a latticework of bone and steel and chitin where muscle had yet to grow over before being threaded through with another layer, limbs with too many toothed joints, wings that could never lift the bloated body off the ground, stomachs that ripped into nails and tendons.

Creatures set to replicate without care, grown over and over once fed in. A great, evil, sick thing, made of misery, knowing only hate, here to destroy all it could.

A primordial terror seethed in Miranda’s own bones at the sight of it.

Something itched in her head, hidden in her memories.

That which should not be.

It did not move. No heartbeat, no lift of breath, not the faintest sign of movement. Yet it lived, even beyond what life truly was, what it could ever be. In a state of suspended animation.

Paused. Turned off.

For now.

The Crown Princess Miranda Vanderbilt stepped forward, her servants following her lead, lifting arms up to the ceiling of rotten and foul magic, wicked blades in hand and claw.

Mercilessly, they set upon the offerings.

The ritual had begun.

#Glory and Gore || IC #Most secret royal advisor || OOC #Given by Divine Right || Headcanons #You built up a world of magic ; Because your real life is tragic || Self #The sea knows something we don't || Drabbles #body horror #gore #death #torture #horror #(( posting now bc bad impulse control #(( ill rb again tomorrow at a better time!

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freckled-words · 5 years ago

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Count The Teeth - Part Seven

I am SO SO SO SO CLOSE TO FINISHING THIS!!! If I’m correct, I have only two or three more chapters to write. I’ve been sitting on this for a YEAR, and the original concept was so simple!!!!! *wails in agony over my own procastination/lack of inspiration*

In other news, in this chapter, I thought I’d play around with NateMare and give him a...different...side. I was seriously excited about this, so I hope you all get a bit of thrill from it too ~

WARNING: Some of the descriptions are in the gore category.

Edited by @the-wild-ego

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX

There was a tiny ‘POP’ and the rest of the world came back into focus.

The little bat clung to the front of your shirt, it’s claws lightly scraping against your skin. It’s ears twitched and swiveled, catching the noises all around it, even as its tiny black eyes peered up at you.

Disoriented, you reflexively rested a hand on its back and used your thumb to brush over its head. It gave a squeak, and raised its head to rub against your thumb, encouraging you to continue.

This lessened your unease as you looked around and took in your surroundings.

You had somehow managed to walk out of the garden, and right into a graveyard.

The hedge wall, and the opening you’d come through were just behind you. In front of you, were a collection of headstones and grave markers. None of them looked recent, and were well marked by age from the grass growing around their edges and the cracks that had formed. You guessed there to be at least 20 graves.

“Why, oh why, little friend, did you bring me here?” you couldn’t get yourself to speak louder than a whisper. With vampires and Phantom Sirens being a thing, you didn’t want to learn if zombies could be a reality too.

The bat squeaked, but gave nothing else in lieu of an answer.

Looking towards the opening you’d come through, you muttered, “I should probably head back and find NateMare, he’s going to be livid.” The thought of NateMare’s temper, and the heat that came with it, made you shudder.

If he was going to be mad, then why rush off to get punished?

“I’ll just, take a stroll and see if there’s any clues here first.”

That settled, you tiptoed towards the first row of graves.

-/-/-/-

He was enjoying himself.

In the past few centuries, he’d made minimal contact with other beings like himself. He’d found they were too troublesome, or worse, sentimental. Their prolonged exposure to humanity, or just the base of their creation, had made the newer generation softer.

There were four strong ones that held potential, but Mercer would leave them be.

One had a penchant for stabbing anything that moved.

One would want to dissect him at the first given opportunity.

One would enjoy nothing better than to fight him for the sake of the fight.

And the last one, well, he had a few too many tricks up his sleeve that Mercer didn’t feel enticed to learn about. Particularly not when he could send an entire army of deranged brethren to swarm him.

He couldn’t even bother with the two others of his generation. They’d forgone their base nature, deciding to befriend humans instead of feeding off them as the food source they were. The three had agreed to not interfere with each other’s business, so long as their boundaries were respected. Mercer had made it a point to know exactly where those boundary lines were, lest he have to deal with the headache that was a lecture and possibly a slap on the wrist.

He had almost thought his little brother, NateMare, to be one of a sentimental nature as well. Having interrupted his feeding, and nearly blowing them both up in that garage.

He’d been delighted when NateMare had proven him wrong.

Mercer had been keeping tabs on NateMare this past month. He’d watched as he kicked around the human he’d saved. Going even as far as putting a collar on them and forcing them to do his work for him.

Mercer had gotten a good laugh out of their discovery of his origins. He’d nearly forgotten that love letter he’d left on his host’s home. Oh the terror on their faces had been delicious.

Licking his lips, he allowed himself the quietest of chuckles.

NateMare didn’t hear the rustle from the tree behind him. He was too intent on scorching some sense into the oblivious human.

He could only blame himself for his carelessness.

He grunted from the force of the impact as he was smashed into a tree. The tree’s trunk splintered and broke, falling to the ground.

NateMare turned to smoke in order to break from Mercer’s grasp, before he rushed around to try and get behind Mercer. Unfortunately, his smoke form was dark enough that Mercer could track his movements.

Showing his elongated canines in a grin, Mercer laughed, “I was wondering if you were going to come sniffing around at some point. But I didn’t think it would take you this long.”

“It wasn’t like you left us a bunch of bright, neon arrows to point out which way to go.” NateMare quipped back as he reformed and made a swing for Mercer’s face.

Mercer danced out of the way, “That would have taken all the fun out of the hunt. I do appreciate that you brought a little snack for me, that was very considerate of you.”

Mercer dodged a few more punches, then took up the offensive. When NateMare didn’t turn to smoke, he managed to pepper in blows to his body. He didn’t hold back, making sure each connection was felt. With a particularly strong uppercut, Mercer sent NateMare sailing back again.

When he landed, Mercer listened to the air rush out of his lungs.

Barely touching on his speed, Mercer was beside him, his hand wrapped around NateMare's throat and squeezed to cut off his oxygen, “Really, little brother? Is this all you can manage to do? I was hoping for a good and proper sibling brawl.” Just to ignite NateMare’s ire, Mercer pouted down at him.

NateMare was certain he had at least two ribs broken that were trying to heal. He didn’t remember taking a hit to his face, but his nose was definitely broken. At least three of his teeth had cracked from that uppercut. He barely registered the taste of his blood as it trickled over his tongue and down his throat.

The term ‘little brother’ was a grater against his temper. Yes, this asshole was technically his elder in the chain of their creations, and yes, Mercer was winning so far, but he would be damned to give up and let this leech think he was the superior.

He didn’t touch on his source often, hating the recovery afterwards. It would be a lot of bed rest and aching muscles for days. Regardless, there was no better time than now to let loose.

Mercer’s brow furrowed, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down the nape of his neck. Had it gotten warmer?

NateMare clamped his hands around Mercer’s wrist. The sound of sizzling and the stench of sour meat mixed with smoke filtered into the air.

Mercer had a high pain tolerance, and flames had never been an issue. Yet he could feel the sting of his skin blistering in NateMare’s grip. His lips drew back in a pained, irritated snarl.

NateMare finally forced Mercer’s hand loose. Drawing in air he grinned, “What’s wrong? Not bothered by a little Hell fire are you?”

Mercer cursed and ripped his hand free. Leaping back to keep some distance Mercer inspected his wrist. The skin was blackened, and blistered. Already his powers pulsed to the injury to repair it. Letting it fall to his side, Mercer tsked, “I’ll admit, I didn’t think your nature ran so deep. Here I was thinking you were all hot air and smoke, now I see. You’re a pretty little onion, with a shiny smooth skin concealing the rotten layers of darkness underneath. You call yourself a Phantom Siren, when in reality, you’re a Hell Banshee off it’s leash.”

NateMare grunted as his ribs snapped back into place. The cartilage in his nose returned to its original form, and his teeth filled themselves in. Rapid healing was always a bitch.

While his given injuries fixed themselves, the rest of his body began to burn away.

Fat from his right cheek bubbled, forcing the skin to rupture and allow it to melt freely to the ground. The muscles along his jaw cooked, dried, and flaked away from his skull. His eye made a sickening pop as it burst and emptied the socket.

Slowly NateMare got to his feet, leaving puddles of his liquified fat on the barren earth. Staggering a bit as his body adjusted to redistribution of his weight, he flexed his right hand and gave it a shake. This caused more skin, fat, and muscle to fall from his bones. Bones that were black, and reflected light from the moon.

His remaining eye burst into blue black flames, his empty socket smoked from within. Those same flames sparked and caught his hair. In an instant it was impossible to tell if his hair was on fire, or if the fire had become his hair.

NateMare rolled his shoulders, and breathed out a plume of smoke. His lips stretched into a grimacing smile, his voice was raspy and hollow as he spoke,“ I really shouldn’t be surprised that you know that name. I will admit to being a bit disappointed that you didn’t react more. Now how about a rematch, Big Brother.”

#Mercer Battle #NateMare #natewantstobattle #reader insert #fanfiction #Count The Teeth #Part Seven #gore warning

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oscar-isaacs-number-one-bitch · 6 years ago

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“Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” Movie Review

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom is the direct sequel to 2015’s Jurassic World, as well as the fifth movie in the Jurassic Park franchise. Directing duties have shifted from Colin Trevorrow to A Monster Calls director J.A. Bayona, and this installment stars Bryce Dallas Howard and Chris Pratt once again as Claire (in a character shift from amusement park money-maker to dinosaur-rights activist) and Owen, the “action-hero-man” of the franchise whose character never shifts at all. Claire has been working tirelessly to save the dinosaurs from the active volcano island of Isla Nublar, arguing that they should be given the same rights as other animals due to their being living creatures. After the last film’s events, however, some of the world’s leading officials are not so sure this is a good idea, since each time mankind has attempted to control or interfere with the world’s natural order, disaster has struck (as evidenced by the failures of now two dinosaur parks). Eventually, both Claire and Owen are put on assignment to carry out a rescue mission to save the dinosaurs (Claire because she knows the park, Owen in order to rescue Blue, the raptor from the last movie). And, what we’re given here is what’s supposed to be a dumb, fun action movie that tries to be more than what it is and fails miserably at it, albeit with more style and grace in its failings than the previous installment.

I’m no keeper of secrets when it comes to movies I like or dislike despite any mass audience opinion to the contrary (love The Witch and Hereditary, dislike The Greatest Showman, Guardians of the Galaxy felt flat, etc.), so most people who have been following my reviews and general movie “thing” for a while know well enough that I didn’t really like the first Jurassic World. Sure, it was mindless entertainment and there were parts about it I enjoyed, but it seemed to take the “mindless” angle a little too much to heart, with a lazy script filled with lazy characters, an overabundance of filmmaking clichés, and what amounted to cardboard cutouts of villains, dialogue, plot progression, or basically anything that wasn’t purely spectacle-driven. In that vein, Fallen Kingdom has a lot of heavy lifting to do in terms of drudging this series back up where it rested after its predecessor was barely on-par with, or better than, The Lost World, but also in establishing J.A. Bayona as a legit director. And, for the most part, it really, truly fails. Luckily, that didn’t bother me as much this time around.

If there’s one thing Bayona can do with the best of them, it’s style and scale. This guy kills it at bringing larger than life visual creatures to screen and legitimately making them, well, larger than life. The sheer scope in Fallen Kingdom (for like the 15 minutes of the first act that they’re on the island at least) is breathtaking, and Bayona’s visual flourishes don’t just paint the dinosaurs as massive, but also majestic. The director’s understanding of scene geography is something to be commended here as well, as it nearly saves the movie from being ultimately worse than the first one. The visual effects have also been much improved on both a wide and a close-up scale. Do they rival the effects in the original Jurassic Park? Well, not really, but they’ve come to closest since to capturing not only the awe these creatures inspire, but the terror as well. The design of the new dino for this one is entirely frightening, and really highlights the “monster” aspect of these animals. (Side note: there was a moment in this film where I did legitimately start to tear up near the end of the first act and you will too, so good job on that one, movie.)

The performances in this film have also improved since last time. Bryce Dallas Howard getting to play a character that’s much less a product of corporate cartoon-isms and more of an at least two-dimensional character with her own agency without having to wear heels the whole time is a good step up, especially since it gives the actress more to do in terms of informing the character. Chris Pratt is also back, and while I wouldn’t say the character improved, his performance did; stripped of all the generic action hero Chris Pratt-isms that informed much of his character in the last film, it’s a lot less annoying to follow him and Howard around, despite the fact that, again, neither of their characters goes through the slightest bit of a personal growth arc, despite legitimate plot points brought up by this installment’s main villain that could have informed that sort of change.

Unfortunately, though, that’s where the positives essentially stop cold. This particular installment may have better style and less ultimately clichés running around (though it keeps the same bad editing), but it swaps decisions that used to be purely annoying for decisions that are purely stupid or forgettable. During the course of the film, especially the first act, it’s posited again and again that if these animals aren’t saved, they’ll go re-extinct, and humanity shouldn’t let that happen (notwithstanding the ecological and societal destruction they’ve already wreaked on their own enclosures and would eventually wreak on the world at large if not kept in an enclosure). Yet despite the number of times this is brought up, no one thinks to address the fact that they can just make more dinosaurs, as was the entire premise for this franchise’s now two series-starting films. They have the technology, they have the know-how, and they’re smart enough the acquire the funding to make more, and this never comes up.

In addition to this, the characters being less annoying apparently also meant stripping them of anything resembling what makes a character in the first place. Yeah, I know I said the performances were better, but that doesn’t make the characters better. It’s as if the writers of the previous film made the clichés and cartoon-ish behavior these people once carried the entire point of the characters in the first place, and without all of that, the characters are left to be deflated versions of what they once were; less annoying, but more underdeveloped.

There’s also a solution reveal to the extinction problem that’s played for what ends up being an insanely predictable twist to the point where one wonders if the characters were deliberately ignoring it just so a movie could happen (the “twist” is in the last trailer but the thing that leads to it is not…for some reason they thought that was a good idea instead of the reverse), but it ends up not only ripping a gaping hole in this film’s plot but in the first Jurassic World’s plot as well. One starts to wonder why they didn’t just go that route in the first place, given what’s meant to at first be this movie’s central conflict.

A lot of this has much more to do with the writing of the film than the production of it post-script, but no one thought to stop and question these glaring plot holes not just within the franchise, but within this entry? It’s entirely lazy writing that’s focused on making dinosaurs this big, philosophical talking point in the beginning (forgetting that they don’t have to be because they’re dinosaurs – that’s cool enough), then just wanting them to be mindless, dumb monsters in the end only for the sake of having an action-oriented finale. Not only does it not ultimately decide what message it wants to send (does it want humanity to not mess with nature or does it want us to campaign for animals rights), I don’t even know if it knows what message it’s trying to send, as the script is so fuddled and messy that there’s no clear emotional thru-line to follow. Oh, and in case you were thinking “yes, we finally get to see Ian Malcolm back in a Jurassic Park movie,” Jeff Goldblum amounts to nothing more than a cameo with the most generic dialogue in the film and none of the humor he brought to his previous appearances in the franchise, for a total screen-time of about 2 minutes, maybe less.

I went into this film not expecting much, given that I didn’t enjoy Bayona’s previous film, nor the previous film in this franchise, and maybe that’s why I was pleasantly surprised that I didn’t outright hate this movie. Sure, I wanted to like it, and I was hoping it would be good, but I wasn’t expecting that, so I was likely less disappointed than a lot of my fellow critics or audience members out there. Still, it can’t really be denied that while I personally enjoyed this film more, it is, on as objective of a level as art can be (which is not very, mind you), a worse film than the previous one, and worse than Bayona’s previous work as well. Sure, Jurassic World was mindless entertainment, but even though it did take the mindless part a little too seriously, it was still entertaining even after it was over. This one, while still entertaining (perhaps more so) and rid of the clichés that informed the first one (again, swapping them out for laziness), can’t be bothered to not rip apart at the seams once you’re done watching it. And even as unsurprising as that is, it’s still disappointing.

I’m giving “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” a 5.8/10

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kuriquinn · 7 years ago

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The Second Time Around [prompt]

Blanket Fic Disclaimer

Original Prompt by: @krizydrewables

“How do you think would Sasuke react when Naruto sends him a message that Sakura is pregnant with their second child? And Naruto would request sasuke to take a “leave” because the Uchiha Fam is gonna need some back-up. ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶ HC! HC!! Haha”

Author’s Note: This is not affiliated with any of my headcanon ‘verses at the moment and can be enjoyed as a standalone.They meet in the usual spot, the giant tree on the outskirts of nowhere in particular.

Beta Reader: None but me and my editing software :)

“What…is with you…and this damn…tree?” Naruto’s clone demands, huffing and puffing as he drags himself up on the giant, moss-covered branch.

“Convenience,” Sasuke says, though if he’s being honest, he’s taking a peevish bit of joy seeing Naruto staggering about like he used to when they were kids. It serves him right for demanding this meeting so soon, and so out of the blue.

“Bastard,” the blond grumbles and straightens. He shoves a finger in Sasuke’s face. “I’ll have you know I’m risking certain death to be here, so there’s no need for you to be so smug!”

“You’re a clone,” Sasuke reminds him in a flat tone.

“Not me-me. The real me. I’ll just disappear when this is done. He’s the one she’s going to murder.”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow, trying to decide if that’s hyperbole or an actual worry. The clone looks spooked enough for it to be the latter, but if it was something serious, he wouldn’t have made such a big show of meeting here.

“Murder?” he prompts.

“Well, maybe not murder. But beat bloody at the very least,” the clone goes on, and crosses his arms. “I’m counting on you to be a decent friend for once in your life and not tell her I was the one who told you.”

“Told me what?” Sasuke asks, narrowing his eyes as a suspicion forms.

“Just make it seem like you were on your way back. And that you, you know, happened to notice something about her and asked about it,” the clone continues to ramble. “I’m not saying tell her she looks fat or anything, not unless you want to die, but… Well, it’s not like she’ll lie to you once you’re there. Not like she’s lying now, or anything! She’s just doing that whole, dutiful-wife-suffering-in-silence thing she’s so good at because she doesn’t want to bug you while you’re working. Which is also your fault, by the way.”

At this, Sasuke tenses, because there’s only one person to whom Naruto can be referring.

“You Uchiha and your damn martyr complex,” the clone ignores the dangerous gleam in Sasuke’s eye, and adopts an irritating falsetto. “Oooh, look at me, I have to suffer all alone so the people I love don’t!” He straightens up, speaking in his normal pitch now, but still with the hint of a sulk in his words. “Right, because that worked so well in the past—”

“Naruto,” Sasuke interrupts. “Shut. Up.”

The clone’s mouth closes with an audible snap, and when he sees the clench of Sasuke’s jaw, he sobers.

“Whoa, hold on now, Sasuke, don’t give me that face!” the clone of his best friend yelps, reaching out his bandaged hand in a placating gesture; the other reaches into his pockets. “There’s nothing wrong with Sakura or Sarada!”

Sasuke’s eyes narrow further, a reprimand at Naruto burying the lead. “Explain.”

“I will, just as soon as—ah! Got it!—here. Look at this.”

The clone hands him an envelope.

Sasuke is confused because under normal circumstance, whatever Naruto’s clone brings him is sealed into a scroll or at least encrypted in a way to disguise the information. Clearly whatever prompted this meeting has nothing to do with the village, or any of the top secret work he’s been assigned.

So why the hell did he insist on me making the trip here?

And what does it have to do with his family?

Deciding not to waste time on Naruto’s predisposition to melodrama, Sasuke rips open the top of the envelope with his teeth and shuffles out a single paper. It’s on a generic white sheet, a little waxy, from an office printer, and not even warded with seals.

The first thing to jump out at him is Sakura’s name, of course, and a series of numbers and abbreviations which mean nothing to him. The next is the image beneath this, coalescing out of the dark and too grainy for him to make out without activating the Sharingan. Once he does, though, he is struck by the familiarity of the image. He’s seen something like this, once before, in a nameless small town over a decade ago—

Sasuke stops breathing for at least thirty seconds.

Naruto is thankfully silent during that time, and it’s not even a smug silence. Waves of happiness radiate off his friend while Sasuke runs his fingers over the image in disbelief.

How…when…?

But he knows the answer to both, of course, because there are only a handful of times it could have been. Even though he is home more often these days, with Sarada in the next room there are few opportunities for intimacy with his wife. He can remember in vivid detail each instance where Sarada happened to be on an overnight mission or staying over at her friend’s house. Based on the size of the little figure in the sonogram and the date on it—

It shouldn’t be possible though. We’ve always been careful.

Then again, that’s what they thought about Sarada.

Sasuke feels as if somehow, this has to do with the Uchiha. He’s not sure exactly how it could be. Given how the entire world was thrown into disarray from his ancestor’s beyond-the-grave meddling, though, he wouldn’t be surprised.

In fact, it seems like something his brother would concoct; possibly even his mother.

“Congratulations,” Naruto tells him at last, warmth and pride suffusing the word.

Sasuke blinks, still stunned, and can only mumble, “Thanks.”

He never believed there would be more children, never thought he deserved it, never thought they would have the chance, given the nature of his mission.

And yet…

Something warm brews within him, like a Katon only infinitely more familiar. A growing swell of emotion he first experienced the day Sakura put his hand across her belly and told him he would be a father.

It’s followed by the same, sharp twist of terror.

I screwed up the first time. What’s stopping me from doing it again?

He tries to fight down the thought, chase it away with something practical, something on which he can focus.

Still keeping his tone level, businesslike, he asks, “Sakura told you?”

“Well…no, not exactly,” the clone looks sheepish. “I had to ask her something and bumped into her as she was coming out of her office. She had a bunch of files and folders in her hands, and they went flying, so I helped her pick them up and then I saw this.” He scratches his ear. “She told me not to tell you ‘til you got back, because she didn’t want to interfere with your mission. But then I got that message from your hawk, you know, the one about extending your current mission another two months? And I decided, ‘fuck that’.”

“This doesn’t change things,” Sasuke points out absently, almost too punch-drunk to even pay attention to what he’s saying. “I still need to—”

“Go home and be with your family,” Naruto interrupts. “Hokage’s orders. And this time, I’m not taking no for an answer. So help me, I’ll take the other arm if you fight me on this.”

“I—”

“From now on, you’re on home missions,” the blond man tells him bluntly. “No, don’t even argue! The last time you had a reason to be away. You don’t anymore. Nothing you’re doing out here is more important than getting to watch your kid grow up.”

Sasuke glares at that, because his friend knows the exact spot to twist the knife, doesn’t he?

“You missed a lot with Sarada, and I’ve been kicking myself for years because I let your stubborn ass talk me into it,” the clone continues, merciless. “And in the end, there was no point to it. Someone else will do recon for the village for a while. And if there is anything out there…well, at least you’ll be home to protect the village yourself instead of who knows where in the world or beyond it.”

He juts his chin out at Sasuke as if daring him to argue or throw a punch at him in protest.

As if he would, knowing what he does now.

Sasuke exhales through his nose, glances down at the sonogram in his hand once more. The warm, sweeping sensation is back.

He gazes at the facsimile of his friend, then he nods. “Naruto…thank you.”

And there’s the grin again. “Anytime.”

It seems the future will be a little different than what he expected.

I should be used to that happening by now.

“So…” Naruto begins then. “This means you’ll cover me, right? With Sakura?”

“No,” Sasuke replies, turning away.

His best friend sputters, and Sasuke smirks.

While he appreciates Naruto’s gesture and wish for him to get a second chance with his family, Naruto ignored Sakura’s wishes. That deserves whatever retribution she chooses to mete out; Sasuke intends to be there to see it.

This time, he intends to be there for everything,

終わり

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome, but if you feel like keeping me caffeinated out of the goodness of your heart, it certainly would be appreciated! I’m also starting to post original works to my patreon.

I’m only able to keep writing as I do thanks to the support of readers like you, so every bit helps!

栗

#implied sasusaku #sasuke uchiha #naruto uzumaki #bromance #unexpected news #fic prompt #fanfiction #family #second chances #friendship #drama #some angst #some fluff

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geeandjaywrite · 7 years ago

Text

It’s not that he doesn’t love Lydia. Of course he loves Lydia. He’s always loved her; been infatuated with her; fascinated with the idea of her. That never really went away. It just changed; grew deeper and more complex with everything that they had experienced.

It’s just that after she drives him to college and leaves him with a lingering kiss and a promise that she’d see him soon, things feel different.

So much has happened since that night he dragged Scott into the woods to look for the body of Laura Hale. So much has happened that he doesn’t really feel like he fits into his own life. He tries to ignore it; to pretend that everything is okay; but after the Ghost Riders, he realises he can’t pretend anymore.

It might be the fact that he was stuck waiting in the train station with Peter Hale but he’s been thinking about Derek. He’s been thinking about Derek a lot, thinking that if anyone understands what it’s like to feel like you don’t fit into your own life, it would be Derek.

One night, after a few too many beers, he texts Derek. He doesn’t expect a response, sure that Derek has changed his number many, many times since he left Beacon Hills without so much as a goodbye. Hell, who knows if Derek even has a phone anymore? It’s not like he was good at texting even when he had some semblance of a pack, of people that maybe, sort of cared about him.

I don’t feel like I’m me anymore. Feels like I’m trying really hard to be the same but it just seems hollow.

He doesn’t get a response but it doesn’t really bother him. He wasn’t expecting one anyway. He’s stopped expecting things from people. He’s stopped expecting a lot of things. That voice in the back of his head tells him that he stopped expecting things from Derek when he left without saying goodbye, like hours in a pool meant absolutely nothing, like Stiles meant absolutely nothing.

So yeah, he wasn’t expecting a reply. He just wanted to say the words.

---

After that, it kind of becomes a thing.

It doesn’t happen all the time. During the day, Stiles manages just fine. He has classes and assignments and even a couple of tentative friends who he’ll grab a coffee with every now and then.

It’s a different story at night though. He tosses and turns for hours, terrified that if he falls asleep, he’ll disappear again and that no one will bring him back. Those endless days in the train station plague his thoughts and he just can’t seem to escape them. It feels like he’s running through those tunnels again, only to end up exactly where he started.

So he tells Derek everything. He pours out the whole story, explains the terror he felt when he knew that he would be taken; when people looked him dead in the eye and had no idea who he was. He explains the frustration he felt when Peter was the only one he could rely on; the bitter disappointment when Peter left and he was all alone. He tells Derek everything and it feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, just screaming into the empty nothingness. The words are out there and even if Derek never replies, it’s better to have written them than to have done nothing. It’s ever so slightly relieved the feeling of slowly choking on the terror.

He ends his text message like this: sometimes I think I’ll disappear again and no one will come looking.

And then his phone beeps.

I would.

That’s it. Two words and Stiles feels like he can breathe again. Someone would come looking for him.

---

It’s not like those two words opened a floodgate of communication but Derek does occasionally reply.

When I do sleep, I see Allison dying. I wonder if Scott blames me. I blame me.

If I had been a better Alpha, Erica and Boyd would have stayed. No one blamed me for that, just like no one blames you for Allison.

Do you think I’ll ever stop blaming myself?

I’m not the right person to ask about blame.

--- Found handcuffs in my roommate’s closet. Think he uses them for community safety on full moons or he’s just really into 50 Shades of Grey?

Stiles, it’s far more likely that your roommate is an aspiring Mr. Grey than a werewolf. Put them back where you found them. It’s rude to snoop.

Omfg I can’t believe you know what 50 Shades of Grey is!

Everyone knows what 50 Shades of Grey is.

You aren’t everyone though! I didn’t know that you read books. Or watched movies. Or had any knowledge of pop culture.

Derek doesn’t text back. Instead, he gets sent a photo of a bookshelf. It’s so full that Stiles is genuinely impressed; it doesn’t look like even one more title could be added to that collection. He doesn’t know why but he finds himself feeling kind of sad that he didn’t know this about Derek whilst he was living in Beacon Hills. Stiles tries not to dwell on the feeling but he knows himself well enough to know that he’s feeling guilty.

He knows what it’s like to wonder if anyone would care enough to come looking if he disappeared. He imagines that’s how Derek felt after his family died and Stiles didn’t do anything to make him think otherwise.

He doesn’t text back.

--- It’s the night of the full moon and Stiles feels strange, like something is missing. He was invited to a party or two but declined, pretending that he had an assignment he really needed to finish. He’s weeks ahead of his course work but he doesn’t want to go out tonight. He knows his friends back in Beacon Hills are going to be okay without him; knows that it’s a good thing that he hasn’t heard from them; but it stings a little.

He doesn’t like feeling so replaceable.

He sends Lydia a text message, asking how everything is going. He doesn’t want them to be in danger; doesn’t want them to struggle without him; but it would be nice if they noticed his absence. He’s hoping that Lydia will tell him that they’re okay but that they miss him.

She doesn’t reply straight away and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

He can see the moon out of his dorm room window. He snaps a picture and sends it to Derek without thinking. Never thought I’d miss chaining Scott to a radiator, he captions the photo. He thinks he means for it to be a joke but even to his own eyes, the words seem flat on his screen. He sends them anyway. It’s not like he’s been censoring himself recently, not around Derek anyway.

On my first full moon alone, I howled at the moon, hoping that someone would answer. It’s lonely without pack.

I’m not really pack though, he responds. It’s easier than acknowledging the fact that Derek’s family burned to death in their family home; that crazy Uncle Peter tore his sister into pieces; that his only remaining family are either certifiably insane or residing with a pack in South America.

It’s okay to miss being needed.

I don’t know if they ever really needed me.

Derek texts back a photo of a pool.

A quick internet search confirms that it’s just a stock photo from Google but his heart races anyway. He remembers diving into the pool and holding Derek afloat; how terrified he had been that they would both drown; that his dad would find his body and drink himself into an early grave.

He hadn’t cared about Derek then, not really, not the way he cared about him now. He had held Derek afloat because it was the right thing to do and because he was selfish. He knew that if he and his friends had any chance of surviving this, they would need Derek.

Near death experiences don’t count as being needed.

This time Derek is the one who doesn’t reply. It’s fair enough, really. Stiles wouldn’t really know what to say to that either.

--- When he wakes up in the morning, he has three unread messages.

Lydia tells him that all is well in Beacon Hills and tells him to check his email because she’s edited his latest essay. He tells Lydia thanks and tries to ignore the flicker of disappointment in his chest.

It counts as being needed. You weren’t just kept around because you were better than nothing. You’re an asset, Stiles. You’re smart, yet somehow stupid enough to throw yourself into danger without thinking twice. Underneath that unrelenting sarcasm and attitude, you care a hell of a lot. If it wasn’t for Scott, his attitude towards me and some of his questionable decisions, I’d have asked you to join my pack.

A second message, sent about an hour later, reads tell anyone and I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth.

He can’t help but laugh.

---

Lydia asks Stiles if he’s coming back to Beacon Hills for break. It had always been his plan to spend break at home, to fall back into things like he had never really left. He goes to reply, to tell Lydia that he’ll leave after his last classon Thursday, but he finds himself lying.

Sorry Lydia, totally broke. Can’t afford flights and I don’t think the Jeep would survive the drive. Maybe you could come here instead?

I can’t. It’s all hands on deck here.

She doesn’t elaborate. More noticeably, she doesn’t offer any financial assistance. Whilst he would turn it down, the Martins are one of the richest families in Beacon Hills and Lydia is generous with her money. If she cares about someone, she shows it with material gestures. He hasn’t seen Lydia in months; since she drove up to college with him. Shouldn’t she want to see him? Shouldn’t he be moving mountains to see her? This is Lydia, after all. He’s been in love with her for as long as he can remember.

All he knows is that something doesn’t feel right here. There’s a gentle hum of disappointment under his skin but when he examines it, he finds that it seems to be related to the fact that he didn’t know Beacon Hills was facing another threat. It doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the fact that he’s not going to be seeing Lydia this break. He doesn’t know much about relationships but he knows that she’s supposed to offer and he’s supposed to care.

His fingers hover uncertainly over his phone, not quite sure what to say. He can’t actually remember the last time he properly spoke to Lydia. They text a few times a week, when he has time between class and she’s not busy with pack business. He scrolls back through the conversation and he’s struck by how superficial it seems. He can’t even remember the last time that they spoke on the phone. They agreed to have weekly Face Time calls but after their plans fell through three times in a row, they stopped making arrangements.

In the end, he sends back a simple good luck. He needs more time to analyse before he says anything more.

--- He manages to fall asleep before 3am, which is no small feat these days. He dreams of his mum, of her body on the kitchen floor and his tears marking her face as he cries down the phone, begging for an ambulance. He dreams of her body on a cool metal table in the morgue, of his father having to identify the body because his mum was sick and Stiles couldn’t get the ambulance quick enough to save her.

He dreams of Peter offering him the bite but this time he accepts it, sick and tired of being the weak, defenseless human. He can feel the pain, can feel fire coursing through his veins, and he knows that the bite isn’t taking. He isn’t strong enough to survive the bite so he’s going to die, all alone on the cold, hard concrete.

He dreams of the pool, of Derek growing heavier and heavier. “It’s okay”, Derek whispers, as Stiles has no choice but to let go. He watches Derek’s paralysed body sinking to the bottom of the pool, his lungs burning as they fill with water, and he cannot do anything.

He sees Erica standing on his front porch, smiling at him. He relaxes. Maybe this is a nice dream. Erica is alive and happy, which is how things should be. He tentatively smiles back, lifts a hand in greeting. Her smile grows wider, showing bloody teeth, and he reels back. Blood keeps dripping, gushing out of her mouth, until she keels over on his welcome mat. He doubles over and vomits on his front lawn.

He dreams of Gerard. He manages to get free, trips as he tries to run up the stairs and escape the basement. Gerald just laughs as he slowly walks up the stairs and takes hold of his leg. He screams as Gerard drags him back down the stairs, knowing exactly what fate awaits him there.

He dreams of motel car parks and road flares, of Scott going up in flames because Stiles isn’t enough to save him; because Stiles has never been enough. He says all the right words but Scott just scoffs and tells him that he wishes he had never met him, that his life would have been so much better without Stiles, that it was Stiles’ fault they were in the woods that night. Scott tells him that everything has always been his fault, then drops the road flare and the whole car park burns a fierce red.

He dreams of the Nogitsune, of the darkness. He pushes the blade into Allison’s stomach, hears Lydia’s screams reverberating off the tunnel walls. He wants to take it back, to do something, to save the girl his best friend loved; to save the girl he once considered a friend. He can’t do anything though; he’s not strong enough to fight the darkness.

He dreams of the Ghost Riders, of endless days and nights waiting for someone to remember him, of thinking that maybe it would be better for everyone if he didn’t come back. Easier, maybe. He dreams that he comes back and his dad’s face contorts into something unrecognisable, twisted by anger and grief; the regret of choosing to remember his son at the cost of losing his wife all over again.

He awakes suddenly, covered in sweat and gasping for air. He doesn’t think, just grabs his phone and dials the only person he thinks will understand.

---

It doesn’t matter that it’s nearly 4am. Derek answers the phone after the second ring and god, Stiles has missed his voice. He didn’t realise just how much until he hears it again.

“Stiles?”

Months ago, Derek texted I would and Stiles felt like he could breathe again. Now, Derek has said his name and he feels grounded again, like his feet are back on the ground.

“Bad dream”, he answers. “Sorry for waking you”. He knows Derek wasn’t asleep but it’s the polite thing to say.

Derek doesn’t say anything. Years ago, back when they first met, Stiles interpreted the silence as frustration, like Derek was purposely not fulfilling his role in the conversation so that Stiles would get the hint and shut up. After a while, Stiles started to think that Derek was silent because he was socially awkward and just didn’t really know how to participate in a conversation. After all, he had been alone for a long time.

Derek’s silence seems different now, though, like he’s giving Stiles a chance to process his thoughts and decide where he needs to begin.

“Why did you leave without saying goodbye?” he asks, acknowledging for the first time that he was bothered by it.

“I didn’t think anyone would really care”, Derek says, like it’s that simple. In Derek’s eyes, it probably was that simple.

“I did”. He pauses and the silence stretches between them for a few more seconds as Derek allows Stiles to collect his thoughts. “I was the one who realised you were gone. I went to the loft after school and the place was empty. I don’t have werewolf senses so I couldn’t just track you down… I drove around for hours looking for you. I was fucking terrified that you had been taken by someone or something but then I found Peter at that stupid abandoned train cart you used to live in. He told me that you had gone and that you didn’t want to be found. That fucking stung, by the way. You said goodbye to Peter but not to me”.

“He’s family”. Again, his words are spoken like it’s just that simple.

“Blood isn’t always thicker than water, Derek! Peter is a fucking lunatic, alright? He killed Laura! That’s unforgivable! I know I’m just some stupid, spastic teenager and that you’d happily rip my throat out with your teeth if it wouldn’t stain your upholstery but I deserved a fucking goodbye”.

It’s not until he says the words aloud that he realises how angry he is. He cares about Derek. He has done for a long time now. He trusts Derek in a way that he doesn’t trust anyone else and that’s not a recent thing. The reason he feels comfortable enough texting Derek all his deepest, darkest thoughts isn’t just because he thinks Derek will understand. It’s because he trusts Derek. Quiet, angry, hurting Derek who proved himself time and time again; who proved that despite all his faults, he would show up when it counted; would save and protect Stiles no matter what. He thought that maybe, just maybe, Derek trusted him too; that maybe Derek cared just a little bit; but then he left without so much as a goodbye or a forwarding address.

Stiles doesn’t know what else to say so he hangs up.

I should have said goodbye.

I wanted to but I wasn’t sure you would care.

Actually, that’s a lie. I think I knew that you, out of all people, would understand why I was leaving. I think I was just trying to avoid an honest conversation that I wasn’t ready for.

I’m sorry.

Thank you.

---

He doesn’t text Derek for about a week. He tells himself that it’s because he needs to invest more time into his studies and into his relationship with Lydia but he knows that’s a lie borne out of self-preservation.

In all honesty, he’s scared.

He hasn’t been scared of Derek for a long time. He’s been scared for Derek and whilst around Derek, both of which are common feelings considering Derek seems to have an annoyingly persistent habit of getting into life threatening danger.

He’s scared now though because Derek can be awfully perceptive when he wants to be. Derek also happens to understand him more than most other people these days, which is why Stiles has been messaging him in the first place. If Derek was really listening – and Stiles thinks that he was – then he’s revealed just a little bit too much about his feelings.

Stiles has always found Derek attractive. Even when Derek was threatening to rip his throat out or pushing his head into a steering wheel, he’s been very aware that Derek is more attractive than most people in Beacon Hills combined. Stiles has eyes after all. He’s sure that Derek is aware of it; that he’s smelt the arousal that seems to follow Stiles everywhere he goes, particularly where Derek is involved. Derek, to his credit, has politely ignored the attraction rather than acknowledging it and causing never ending humiliation.

Somewhere along the way, things shifted. The more time Stiles spent around Derek, the more he realised that Derek wasn’t just a pretty face. He had been through hell and somehow still survived but it was more than that. Weaker men would have crumbled if they had gone through half as much pain as Derek but he came through it all and somehow, he still cared about people. He turned Isaac, Erica and Boyd because he was lonely but also because he thought he was giving them a better life. He showed up, time and time again, even when he didn’t have to. Even though he said that he didn’t, he knew that Derek trusted him. Derek’s actions spoke far louder than his words and somewhere along the way, Stiles had proven himself to Derek. The threats and the violence had been replaced with an understanding that they had each other’s backs.

When he went to Derek’s apartment and found it empty, he had realised. Things had just clicked into place and he knew that his physical attraction to Derek had grown into something deeper and stronger. It was a secret that Stiles had intended to take to his grave. He had shoved it into the far corners of his mind and pretended that he wasn’t bothered by Derek’s absence; he had dated Malia and then Lydia and acted like everything was fine.

He had never talked about it so when those words tumbled out of his mouth, the anger and the frustration and the hurt feelings were still so fresh. Derek is smart enough to put the pieces together and realise that there’s something more there, at least on Stiles’ end.

So yeah, he’s scared. He’s not scared that Derek won’t reciprocate his feelings because he already knows that Derek doesn’t feel the same. He’s terrified that he’ll lose Derek completely and he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle it.

It’s pathetic but he’s felt more human over the last few months than he has since Derek left. He isn’t ready to lose that.

--- He and Lydia break up during the week that he’s ignoring Derek.

They manage to have a Face Time conversation and about three minutes in, she tells him he looks like complete crap. He tells her that he’s struggling with the distance, that after everything, he just isn’t ready to come back to Beacon Hills and she’s far too valuable to travel to him and leave the town unprotected.

Lydia doesn’t even look surprised and she’s polite enough not to call him on his bullshit.

“It’s better that we end it now. I’ve received an early acceptance to the University of Cambridge so in the near future, we’ll be on different continents”, she says in agreement.

There’s a lot left unsaid. They’re both aware that Stiles is no longer the same person he was in third grade, when he decided that he was going to be in love with Lydia Martin forever. They’ve both lost people and gone through more trauma than most people see in a lifetime. Rather than growing together, they grew apart. Stiles knows that a lot of the responsibility for that rests on his shoulders; that he should have worked through his issues with Lydia, that he should have trusted her with the burden he was carrying.

He was just so in love with the idea of Lydia; so desperate to have the perfect relationship that he had been dreaming of for years that he refused to share his darkness out of fear that it would taint everything.

He ignores the voice telling him that Derek Hale has already seen him at his worst and seems to tolerate him regardless.

--- For someone who once thought that Lydia Martin shined brighter than the sun, he’s remarkably okay with their breakup.

Scott texts him for the first time in weeks, a simple

heard the news. Hope you’re okay.

He replies with a smiley face. He doesn’t think there’s much else to say. He and Scott will always be brothers but they’re living different lives now.

After a particularly sleepless night, he texts Derek. He figures that if Derek was going to make a scene over Stiles’ little crush, he would have done it already.

Would your arm have grown back?

Do you think about that a lot?

I’ve done a lot of research and can’t seem to find the answer.

We aren’t related to starfish. I’m 99% sure I’d have ended up with a stump.

--- He gets to know Derek a lot better over text.

Breaking Bad or Walking Dead?

Is that even a question, bitch?

Summer or winter?

Winter. I remember learning how to snowboard when I was younger. My family had a lodge.

Favourite Harry Potter character?

George Weasley or Sirius Black. Ten minutes later, his iPhone indicates that Derek is still typing a message. It’s worth the wait when Derek practically sends an essay about why he likes each character. That leads to a three hour phone call about why Severus Snape is a bad person. Stiles falls asleep while Derek is ranting about the scene in the movie where Severus steps over James Potter’s dead body to see Lily.

The fact that Derek’s a secret Harry Potter fanatic makes him way happier than he should be.

--- Late at night, their text messages grow more serious.

Worst relationship?

I don’t think I’ve had any truly terrible relationships. I haven’t really been heartbroken or betrayed. I think I’ve been a bad boyfriend though. Both Lydia and Malia deserve better.

You weren’t heartbroken over Lydia?

Not really. I was more in love with the idea of her.

That’s how I feel about Kate.

He doesn’t reply; chooses to call Derek instead. It’s 2am and for the first time ever, Derek tells another person what happened with Kate Argent. Stiles had put most of the pieces together a long time ago but hearing Derek tell the story is the most horrific thing Stiles has ever heard. The police reports had noted that Derek, Laura and Peter were the only survivors; that Derek’s mother and father, his grandmother, three younger siblings, and four cousins of various ages had all perished in the fire.

Derek’s voice doesn’t waver as he tells Stiles that Kate had seduced him; that he had told Kate all about his family; that he had mentioned a family gathering that he wanted her to attend. He tells Stiles that he came home from lacrosse practice to see his family home burning to the ground.

Stiles only utters four words that night but repeats them like a mantra until Derek’s breathing evens out and he drifts off to sleep.

It wasn’t your fault.

--- Did you love Jennifer?

No. I think I could have in time but we both know how that ended.

Why did you believe me when I told you she was evil?

Because it’s you. You’re one of the only people that hasn’t lied to me. That earned you a little bit of faith.

Did you love Brayden?

No. I think I wanted to show the world that I had survived Kate and Jennifer and didn’t have any emotional wounds. I think most people would call that a rebound relationship.

Do you think you could fall in love again?

Stiles waits for an excruciating seven minutes before Derek replies.

Yes.

--- I tried to tell my dad that I was bisexual once. I think he thought I was joking.

I never got to tell any of my family that I’m bisexual. After the fire, Laura and I moved to New York. I wanted to tell her but I couldn’t find the words. I couldn’t find the words about Kate either. I like to think that she knew anyway and loved me regardless.

I’m sorry I accused you of her murder. That was really fucked up.

---

I was never really going to rip out your throat with my teeth.

I know.

It was easier to just be angrier all the time. Anger is easier to manage than grief.

Was easier? Are you not angry anymore?

I’m still angry but it’s not the only thing I feel anymore. These messages help. So does therapy.

Derek Hale in therapy? I never thought I’d see the day! In all seriousness, I’ve thought about therapy a lot. I went after my mum died and it helped a little bit. I just don’t know where I’d find a therapist who knows about the supernatural.

Derek texts him a phone number for a counsellor about fifteen minutes off campus. He doesn’t ask Derek how he knew what college he was at.

--- Peter offered me the bite once.

I didn’t know. I’m glad you didn’t take it?

Because I’d be a terrible werewolf?

Because no one should be connected to Peter in that way. I think you’d make an excellent werewolf. Far better than Scott.

--- Have you seen the latest episode of Game of Thrones?

He calls Derek and they talk for hours. He almost hangs up the phone when Derek tells him that he doesn’t understand the appeal of Jon Snow but he likes the sound of Derek’s voice far too much.

--- On April 8th, he gets sent a photo of a cheesy card wishing him many happy returns.

Happy 18th birthday, Stiles.

He sends Derek a photo of his face with his widest grin. He didn’t even know that Derek knew his birthday.

When’s your birthday?

11th July.

And how old are you going to be? I vaguely remember starting at Beacon Hills high as you were getting to graduate but then when we saw you in the woods, you looked like you were 80.

I’m only four years older than you, Stiles. I’ll be turning 22 but I haven’t celebrated in years.

But if someone wanted to hypothetically post you a card and a present, where would they send it?

Derek sends him an address in New York City. Stiles doesn’t need to ask; he instinctively knows that this is the apartment that Derek and Laura lived in before her death.

--- Do you think you’ll ever go back to Beacon Hills?

Not unless it’s an emergency. I was supposed to go back with Laura when we heard about the killings in our territory but I told her that I wasn’t ready. I made her go alone.

It wasn’t your fault.

--- Stiles can’t sleep. He Face Times Derek and pesters him until he finally agrees to start watching Parks and Recreation.

Stiles has the same episode playing on his laptop but he finds himself paying more attention to Derek’s face than the episode. He’s never seen Derek laugh before and the sight of him chuckling is mesmerizing.

It becomes a regular thing. Derek watches something on Netflix; Stiles watches Derek.

--- I hope you fall in love with someone who loves you as much as I do.

Stiles should not be allowed access to his phone while under the influence of alcohol. He texts Derek that exact sentiment the next morning but Derek doesn’t respond.

--- He doesn’t hear from Derek again.

--- I’m really sorry, Derek.

I shouldn’t have made things awkward between us.

Your friendship is more than enough, I swear. I’m not going to push for something that you don’t want.

--- None of his messages elicit a reply and god, it hurts like a fucking bitch. He thinks he finally knows what it’s like to have a broken heart.

---

He receives a text from Lydia.

A little bird told me that Derek Hale is currently moping in New York City.

Peter?

Cora.

I didn’t realise you were in contact with Cora. Hell, I didn’t realise that Cora was in contact with Derek.

Of course I’m in contact with Cora. She’s a useful contact. As for her contact with Derek, that’s only a recent development. Their pack bond still exists in some form; she reached out when she realised that something didn’t feel right.

What am I supposed to do about Derek moping? It’s kind of his thing.

Check your email.

There’s an email from Lydia. It’s a forward from a travel agent, confirming that a flight for a Mr. M. Stilinski has been booked for this Saturday.

He doesn’t know what to say. It turns out he was right about Lydia Martin – when she cares about someone, she shows it in materialistic gestures. This might be the greatest gesture that she’s ever done.

--- Stiles can barely sit still during the flight to New York City. He’s terrified that Derek will slam the door in his face but he knows that if he doesn’t try, he’ll regret it.

The cab ride to Derek’s apartment takes an eternity. He almost forgets to grab his bag in his rush to get out of the cab and forces himself to take a deep breath; to slow down just a little.

He mentions to get into the building without buzzing, darting through an open door as one of the tenants leave the building. Before he got on the flight, Lydia had texted him the apartment number, and his hands shake as he knocks on the door.

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice sounds even better in person. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t reply to my texts”, he says like it’s just that simple. In his eyes, it is.

It seems like it might be just that simple to Derek too because he grabs him and pulls him close. Before Stiles can protest about being manhandled, Derek’s lips are against his and the words die on his tongue.

---

“Why didn’t you reply?” he asks a few hours later. He and Derek had eventually made it to the bedroom and it was everything Stiles had imagined and more. It was worth forgoing the conversation but Stiles couldn’t ignore the obvious for much longer.

“I panicked. Over text, it was easy. I could say whatever I wanted and not worry about the repercussions. The thought of it becoming something more was terrifying, Stiles. You know my relationship history”.

“And you know that I’m not like any of them”.

Derek nods in agreement. “You’re not like them. You’re more than them. You already mean more. I wanted to be in a better place before giving this a chance”.

“That’s why you’re in therapy?”

“Yeah. I’ve been considering it for a long time but that night when you yelled at me for leaving without goodbye was the final push I needed”, Derek explains. “I’m still not completely there. There are still things we need to talk about and things that will require a lot more therapy but I’m in a place to give this a chance, if you still want to”.

“If I hadn’t have shown up on your doorstep, what would have happened?”

Wordlessly, Derek passed Stiles his phone. The draft messages are illuminated on the screen and Stiles scrolls through them. There’s countless messages, dating back at least two weeks, and they’re all different versions of an apology; of an explanation. Even if Stiles hadn’t shown up on his doorstep; Derek was trying. Derek has proven himself time and time again; Stiles knows that he would eventually have sent a message explaining everything.

“I still love you and I’m all in”.

--- Stiles calls the university the next morning and defers his enrolment.

University can wait. Right now, he and Derek have a lot to work through, both individually and together. Stiles hopes that if things go well, he can transfer his studies to a university in the city. Based on the course catalogues he finds in Derek’s study, he thinks that they’re on the same page.

-- He has seven missed calls from Scott and twelve text messages, all urging him to come back to Beacon Hills.

There are three messages from Malia, stating that he needs to get his ass into gear and help them out.

There’s even a text from Lydia, saying that she wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t serious.

He looks over at Derek, who looks more relaxed and happy than he has in a long time. “Shit’s going down in Beacon Hills. They need me to save their asses”. He wants Derek to come with him but doesn’t want to ask; doesn’t want to be responsible for Derek’s shoulders growing tense as he heads back to the town that took everything from him. “I shouldn’t be gone for more than a week”, he says as he’s packing a duffel bag and throwing it into the back of Derek’s Camaro.

“That’s what Laura said”.

There is no other explanation; nothing else that needs to be said. A second duffel bag is tossed into the back of the Camaro and Derek gets into the passenger seat like he belongs there.

Turns out he didn’t need to ask. Maybe Derek needs him just as much as he needs Derek. After all this time, it’s a nice thought. It helps keep the darkness at bay; helps Stiles feel just a little more grounded than he has done in a long time.

---

“You didn’t think you were doing this without me?”

“Without us?”

Yeah, it feels pretty damn good that they’re an ‘us’ now.

#sterek #sterek fanfic #teen wolf fanfic #stiles stilinski #derek hale #post 6A #mentions of derek/kate #derek/jennifer #derek/brayden #stiles/malia #stiles/lydia #holy crap i am amazed and blown away by this response #seriously #i love all of you #feel free to send me prompts if you wish i'm trying to get back into my writing

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tube-thoughts-blog · 7 years ago

Text

tube thoughts vol. 8

zero stars - terrible, 1/2 a star - dull, 1 star - folly, 1 1/2 stars - lacking, 2 stars - fair, 2 1/2 stars - decent, 3 stars - terrific

Kroll Show: Gigolo H-O-R-S-E *"Horse not whores."* 2 1/2 stars

Cinematic Titanic: "The Wasp Woman" a Roger Corman flick *"Anaphylactic schlock."* close to 3 stars with riffing 2 stars without

Max Headroom: Grossberg's Return *MTV Rocks the Vote for Hillary Clinton by getting its viewers to tune out and tune in to The Jersey Shore / Real World.* 2 1/2 stars

Blind Date (Deluxe Edition) *Raunchy reality show uncensored material and bloopers from the early 2000s. It's strange to see just how much the fashions have changed. That California douchebag & slut 'look' is a real time capsule (1998? - 2004?) of guilty pleasure to gawk at.* 2 1/2 stars

Swamp Thing: The Watcher *Redneck androids and a test tube Alice in Wonderland un-birthday.* 3 stars

Branson Famous: The Brangelina of Branson *In a town that's stuck in a rhinestone americana timewarp, a family of big haired and big belt buckle entertainers step all over each other in pointy boots in order to be the shining star in a fading industry of entertaining a dwindling crowd of retiree tourists.* 2 stars

==== My Big Redneck Family: Redneck Wedding

*Tater salad turned bad, but the "Shamepain" still tastes good, I guess.

Tom Arnold is giddy to host a reality show that's structured and shot like a sitcom similar to Modern Family.

The presentation isn't half bad, but it's the same lowest common denominator behavior for the camera and those tired, cliche confessionals that all reality shows are required to have.

At least Branson Famous is original in its confessionals which are tacky singing confessionals that turn into sing offs.

Also, I want to know how theme weddings like 'Redneck Weddings' are still considered to be traditional.

Sorry, queers, ya'll are weird, but cut off shorts, beer cans on the front row, and written vows about picking up tighty whiteys covered in trail marks so that the wife doesn't have to is considered a sacred ceremony.* sodomy or skidmarks I vote skid

2 stars

=============================================================

Newsreaders: How Sausage Is Made *A sausage making factory is turned into one of those pretentious millenials start up companies with a hilariously loose atmosphere, and it's visited and documented by a parody of one of those hipster nerd website's sexy cosplay chick who's one of those tries way too hard to be all about nerd culture wannabes. Also, Stevie, from Eastbound & Down, plays a lottery winner whose newly overly rich lifestyle makes him easy to despise.* 2 stars

X Files: Genderbender *The close knit community of Aphrodite and androgyne.* 3 stars

Hippies: Sexy Hippies *"I'm free. Nothin' worryin' me." Except for the fact that being a male, I think about sex every six seconds.* close to 3 stars

Impractical Jokers: Welcome to Miami *Beached Mer-man struggles in the sand for jelly donuts and an alligator is forced to wear a backpack.* between 2 and 2 1/2 stars

Jonny Quest: The Calcutta Adventure *Jolly Jolly Hadji* 3 stars

Son of the Beach: Fanny and the Professor *"Touch my mouth, Louise!" Heatwave haywire.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Rinse Dream presents "Party Doll A Go-GO #2" (1991) *Jungle boogie sock-it-to-me shin-dig squeal flick.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Freddy's Nightmares: Love Stinks --------------

*Nookie with no strings attached because Freddy cut them.* 3 stars

*Re-Animator as a yuppie pizza shop cannibal.* 3 stars

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

"Meatballs Part 2" (1985) *PG rated sex comedy with E.T. and Pee Wee Herman.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Tales from the Crypt: The Man Who Was Death *After his state overturns the death penalty, unemployed electric chair technician William Sadler takes his executioner's blues to the street.* 3 stars

Morton Downey Jr.: Child Abuse *Mort shows off his devilishly red socks and lets people pour their hearts out about that once dirty secret of the family that has come more to light in recent years as something not to hide.* 3 stars

"The Town That Dreaded Sundown" (2014) *Three different time periods entwined into a true crime homage to drive-in slasher movies like Friday the 13th part 2. It's not perfect, but it's prettier than a postcard with red eye gravy spilled over it. Did I say postcard? I meant porkchop. A porkchop with red eye gravy spilled over it. Well, maybe not that pretty. Porkchop, mmm.* close to 3 stars

From Dusk Till Dawn, the series: Pilot Episode *Aztecs, snakes, Geckos, demons, Texas Rangers, Mexican cartels, and last of all 21 year old white chicks (how and why did they escape so easy? makes little sense.).* between 2 and 2 1/2 and stars

Rifftrax presents "Terror At Tenkiller" *"More like timefiller at Tenkiller." Pointless small talk, routine walking and driving, mundane lake activity, creepy jerks, generic background music, plus slight instances of side-boob.* 3 stars with riffing 1 1/2 stars without

Tim & Eric - Bedtime Stories: Baby *The true horror is seeing Tim & Eric amuse themselves by getting odd looking middle-aged men to perform absurd fetish acts. Dr. Steve Brule's manchild cousin Jordan gets scammed by Tim & Eric, and Roseanne's Laurie Metcalf makes a show stealing cameo.* 2 stars

Finding Bigfoot: Paranormal Squatchtivity *Bobo, Ranae, and the other two dingbats travel to some isolated farms and woods in Pennsylvania that look straight out of Night of the Living Dead. They're searching not just for bigfoot, this time, but boo bumps in the night. They also make a sacrificial offer to the bigfoot by dumping bloody guts and powdered donut dust on a rock.* 1 star for the spook and squatch stuff 2 1/2 stars for the natural lighting, non-nightvision, picturesque shots of rural Pennsylvania

Are You Afraid of the Dark?: The Tale of the Lonely Ghost *An early 90s mallrat Tiffany look-a-like bullies her "zeeb" cousin and nanny and meangirls clique until an encounter with a ghost girl from a mirror world.* 3 stars

Gargoyles: Long Way To Morning *gumption versus grouse* 3 stars

Farscape: A Human Reaction *Chricton returns home and finds out he no longer has one.* 3 stars minus maybe 1/2 a star for the twist

Wizards and Warriors: The Kidnap *Black magic and royal blood should never mix.* 3 stars

Friday the 13th, the series: Root Of All Evil *Exchanging currency for blood.* 3 stars

"The Granny" a film by Luca Bercovici (1995) *Stinking rich Stella Stevens has one foot on a banana peel and is pushed into the grave by the greedy inheritors of her wealthy will. An elixir, with a set of instructions similar to the handling of Gremlins, turns her into an Evil Dead inspired demon bitch. It's up to her mousey granddaughter, played by Shannon Whirry (who struggles to hide how sexy she typically is), to send her back to Hell.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Hill Street Blues: Up In Arms *Citizens against crime. Battlefield lovers. Troublemakers on the 6 o'clock news. Criminal turned Christian. Nude model and her ferocious dog of a man. Corrupt cop killed by razor wielding hooker.* 3 stars

------- Black History Month -- Non-Wayans Scary Movie -------------------

"Tales from the Hood" (1995)

*Welcome to my Mortuary: Some homeboys make a pick up of alleyway discovered drugs at a spooky funeral home ran by an eccentric mortician.* 2 1/2 stars

*Rogue Cop Revelation: Wings Hauser and some other pig cops go Rodney King on a political agitator while Billie Holiday's "Strange Fruit" plays as the soundtrack. Exactly one year later, the zombified martyr gets revenge.* 3 stars

*Boys Do Get Bruised: David Alan Grier as an extremely convincing and scary abusive stepfather.* close to 3 stars

*KKK Comeuppance: Voodoo dolls terrorize a racist politician at a cursed plantation. I couldn't help but laugh thinking of those Lil' Penny Hardaway doll commercials from the 90s.* 2 1/2 stars

*Hard Core Convert: A murderous gangbanger won't repent when a Maya Angelou type puts him through Clockwork Orange style therapy torture to get him to see he's killing his own kind in the same way white society lynched his ancestors. It does pose the question of whether it's strictly his fault, but I'm not sure if Spike Lee and others involved aren't suggesting that young black men should use violence on whites instead. There's a lot of venom and hatred and propaganda in this piece. Maybe rightfully so, maybe not.* either zero stars or close to 3 stars

*Mr. Simms: A Mexican standoff Day of the Dead style between the homeboys and the mortician who turns out to be Satan. Welcome to 90's terrible CGI hell, muthafuckas!* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

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

Red Shoe Diaries: Just Like That *A cute receptionist, who likes to love it up in an elevator, tries to have it both ways with a rich French guy and a pre-Friends slumming it on softcore late night cable Matt LeBlanc.* close to 3 stars

Hannibal: Ceuf *"Norman Rockwell with a bullet." Hannibal Lecter with a daughter. Molly Shannon with a screw loose (not much of a stretch).* 3 stars

--- Duck Dynasty: Bathroom Baloney

*Outhouse racing, because "SOUTHERN!"

We used to not have indoor plumbing, ya'll.

It's pathetic what A & E will go to in order to justify an hour of tv filled with the stupid nonsense these jerks say.

It's all about those advertising dollars, and we morons who give them views.

They're supposed to be down to earth folk and manly men, but the one called Willie acts like he's never used a grill or stove, like most of his audience would have had to in their lives, when he burns his fingers and squeals like a girl as he ineptly cooks balogna.

Balogna, a cheap and overly processed lunchmeat that has been a part of the diet of that America that they're so quick to latch onto, but most of this millionaire family turns their nose up at the idea of having to eat.

Duck Dynasty, a brand and a family that sell their garbage merchandise at a company (Wal-Mart) that ripped the heart, balls, and innards (all that would go into balogna) out of American smalltown business folk and replaced it with cheap Chinese manufactured goods and sent jobs overseas so that Duck Dynasty's main audience would have to be poor and eat balogna.

Sing it with me, for the land of the freeee and we used to live in caves...*

running from zero to 1 star

==================================================================

Weird Science: Airball Kings *Gary got game.* 3 stars

15 Storeys High: Ice Queen *God gave us gas.* close to 3 stars

Game of Thrones: season 3 episode 8 *Lambs seeing the dagger.* 3 stars

"Here Comes The Devil" (2012) *The Kids Aren't Alright after a truckstop Picnic At Hanging Rock.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars or 1 1/2 stars for the awkward and amateurish dubbing. The English speaking voice actors are so bland that they drain the passion out of the Spanish actors' performances.

American Horror Story: Asylum "The Name Game" *Rare birds Roche limit.* 3 stars or 1 star for the Glee style musical number

American Horror Story: Coven "The Axeman Cometh" *Ouija (weegee) and all that j-a-z-z.* 3 stars

"House of Dreams" an adult film by Andrew Blake (1990) *Splooge on the foot of a model wearing expensive high heels in one of those new age architectured Malibu beach mansions captured by an expensive perfume high-art pretentious photographer while a Pure Moods cd plays on a thousand dollar plus stereo system.* 2 1/2 stars

----- Black History Month -- Genre Crossover Bad Movie ------------

Cinematic Titanic presents "East Meets Watts" *"Fact: drugs IS comin' into the ghett-toe." but so IS "Rock 'em sock 'em mofos." And "You can tell by the clothes that they're wearing, that it's a fine line between Kung Fu & Disco."* 3 stars with riffing between 1 1/2 and 2 stars without

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

The Prisoner: Many Happy Returns *Number 6 becomes The Omega Man, Castaway, Bourne, The Fugitive, Top Gun, and then Total Recall'd.* 3 stars

Richard Linklater's "Waking Life" (2001) *"Let's have a *in quotes* Holy Moment."* either close to 2 1/2 stars if you're open to interesting thinking about life or 1 star if you're annoyed by pretentious people talking out of their ass about philosophy...

Bob and Margaret: Love's Labours Lost *Bob pines over his snotty secretary.* close to 3 stars

Northern Exposure: Soapy Sanderson *"Singing your own song," even if it's a murder ballad.* 3 stars

Fargo: A Muddy Road *Orthodox spiders.* 3 stars

X Files: Lazarus *Scully's old flame is shot and smolders out, at the same time as his Clyde Barrow type suspect suffers the same fate. The suspect's spirit snakes into Scully's flame's body and goes on the hunt for his Bonnie.* close to 3 stars

"The Taking Of Deborah Logan" (2014) *The Exorcism of Martha Stewart. Wow, a found footage flick with mostly sympathetic characters, an actual story, creepy scares, and somewhat decent editing.* close to 3 stars minus 1/2 a star for the vomit vision shaking cam finale. I don't know why this generation has such a hard-on for found footage. It doesn't make fiction more realistic, it just makes it more painful to try to watch.

Stephen King's "Kingdom Hospital": season 1 episode 8 *We didn't start the fire.* 3 stars

"Inferno" a film by Dario Argento (1980) *Like a cat on hot bricks.* 2 1/2 stars

Manimal: Night of the Scorpion *Caper in the Caribbean.* 3 stars

Rifftrax presents "R.O.T.O.R." *Imagine Alex Murphy replaced by Jeff Foxworthy.* 3 stars with riffing 2 stars without

Thundarr the Barbarian: City of Evil *Civilization ends in 1994, and a world of sci fi and fantasy emerges. So, it's like Mike Judge meets Jack Kirby.* 3 stars

The Outer Limits: The Voice Of Reason *A paranoid paranormal conspiracy theorist gets a closed door intelligence session with govt officials, where he shows off alien events from the first season of the new outer limits.* close to 2 1/2 stars

Son of the Beach: Eat My Muffin *Luke Skywalker as "Divine" Rod.* 3 stars

Everything Is Terrible -------------------

2 Minute Slaughterhouse Rock: "Death ain't shit. Impress me." - 2 1/2 stars

3 Minute Mankillers: "Ladies, and I use that term loosely." Acting, and I use that term loosely. - 3 stars

Pregnant Men!: "I rolled over and went back to sleep." - 3 stars

Out of the Wild: Teddy bears and Werner Herzog. - close to 3 stars

Ninja Magic Dragon Kid!: "Do you know Don 'The Dragon' Wilson?" Well, he's barely in this, but there's this 12 year old who does karate... - 3 stars

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

The Ben Stiller Show: season 1 episode 1 *Bono for breakfast. Judd Apatow, Bob Odenkirk, and others help make this one of the best, and sadly forgotten, sketch shows of all time.* 3 stars

--- Black History Month -- Social Justice zombie classic with commentary ----

Rifftrax presents George Romero's original "Night of the Living Dead" *Apocalypse and Arby's.* 3 plus stars with riffing 3 stars without

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

American Gothic: Meet the Beetles *Sheriff Buck versus Bruce Campbell.* 3 stars

The Greatest American Hero: Here's Looking At You, Kid *Vanishing act with top secret space age equipment. Vanishing act, when it comes time to meet the girlfriend's parents.* close to 3 stars

---- Black History Month --- Social Satire movie ---

"CSA - The Confederate States of America" *Slavery, for an economically strong and stable society.* either zero stars or 3 stars

----------

American Horror Story: Freakshow "Show Stoppers" *Cooped up rage.* 2 1/2 stars

American Horror Story: Freakshow "Curtain Call" *This series whimpers to a close like a sad gypsy's fart or a tired hobo's bugle.* between 2 and 2 1/2 stars

Forever Knight: Dark Knight part 1 & 2 *Highlander meets the dawn of Seattle grunge meets Kolchak, the Night Stalker meets MTV's The Maxx.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Tales from the Crypt: Dig That Cat... He's Real Gone *"Dying for dollars." A death defying Houdini act where death isn't actually defied.* 3 stars

"Bad Girls" (1994) *Casserole western. At least Geena Davis isn't the lead.* between 2 and 2 1/2 stars

--- Everything Is Terrible ----

Camel Club Network: Joe Camel in tha nightclub. - 3 stars

You're A Hypocrite!: Grumpy theology getting off point and no fun. - 1 star

Watch the Jello Wiggle!: Thirty somethings determine the Teen Set. - 3 stars

Y'Know: No, I don't know, evangelical and or motivational white lady. - 2 1/2 stars

Truth or Dare: A deadly game for unstable yuppies.* 3 stars

--------

Are You Afraid of the Dark?: The Tale of the Sorcerer's Apprentice *Canadian junior high kids go "goth" over a Babylonian snake god.* 2 1/2 stars

--- Black History Month -- Prejudice Philosophy flick ---

Sam Fuller's "White Dog" (1982) *"Cure or kill the sickness."* either zero or 3 stars

---------

Morton Downey Jr.: Communism *Loudmouths, intelligence agents, government (U.S. & the U.S.S.R.) sponsored military groups in 3rd world hot-spots, and last of all "TRAITORS!"* 1 star

12:01 Beyond: Illegal Aliens ---------

*A man and his dog, living alone in the desert, are abducted by a ufo. that or the dog is an alien or becomes an alien?* close to 3 stars

*VHS quality trailer for the new War of the Worlds (not Spielberg / Cruise).* 3 stars

*TV rip promo for CBS showing of Sigourney Weaver in ALIENS.* 3 stars

*Mr. Lobo rambles about ancient alien conspiracy theories while an alien fires a electricity blaster behind him.* 3 stars

*Famous Studios' Superman in "Showdown": Superman framed with impostor.* 3 stars

*VHS quality rip trailer for the movie Hangar 18.* 3 stars

*TV quality rip for "Magic" 92 FM radio "The Superstar Space Cruiser" of radio stations playing classic rock albums.* 3 stars

*'The Tony Tomato Show' presents Heil Hipster performing in a Weezer 'Buddy Holly' esque music video.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

*VHS quality rip trailer for "Moon Trap." Killer lunar robots and Bruce Campbell.* 3 stars

*TV quality rip for an 1980s NYC Manhattan comic convention featuring a lot of classic Sci-Fi alien comic books.* 3 stars

*Ninja the Mission Force - Citizen Ninja: No rest for the Ninja. Not even a playground picnic.* close to 3 stars

*TV / VHS quality neon lazer graphics advertisement for Rochester's 95FM BBF.* 3 stars

*TV/VHS quality rip for an old 80s DR. Pepper commercial where a cowboy walks into a space bar cantina filled with alien puppetry creatures and orders a tall one. That is a Dr. Pepper.* 3 stars

*The "Saint of Insomniacs" Mr. Lobo sits by a Tesla type machine and greets a scary looking alien creature who is into probing.* 3 stars

*(feature movie) Cannon films presents - "Alien Contamination": Explosive xenomorph eggs, and a cyclops tentacle creature, in an exploitation flick.* 2 1/2 stars

*Vintage UHF tv advertisement for channel 6 XETV promoting 5, count 'em 5, classic episodes of the original Star Trek tv series.* 3 stars

*Vintage Fox tv affiliate WPGH channel 53 and its promotion of Alien Nation, the series' upcoming episode.* 3 star

*Vintage tv commercial for the OMNI sci fi "fact and fiction" magazine.* 3 stars

*Republic Pictures serial The Crimson Ghost in The Laughing Skull: Heavy water has leaks.* 2 1/2 stars

*Mr. Lobo may have been probed and payed 20 dollars for it.* 2 1/2 stars

*Grindhouse trailer for the flying frisbee alien leeches flick "It Came Without Warning."* 3 stars

*TV/VHS rip quality commercial for Diet Dr. Pepper featuring a Will Forte look alike living in a Raising Arizona / Joe Bob Briggs style trailer park with his sweetie and having a close encounter.* close to 3 stars

*Zolar X - Timeless (music video): The Ramones meets Mork & Mindy.* 2 1/2 stars

*Thumb Snatchers from the Moon Coccoon: Stop motion short about opposable thumb hatin' robot aliens and a Texas cow munching cowboy sheriff squaring off.* close to 3 stars

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

Cinematic Titanic: The Alien Factor *"Pissing Skittles."* 2 1/2 stars with riffing 1 star without

Everything is Terrible ----

*The Stinger: Pontiac feels that modern car concepts should be "wacky," "funky," filled with useless gadgets, and cost 2 million dollars to create.* close to 3 stars

*The Old New Age!: Puffy clouds and PBS philosophy / aesthetics / tunes.* 3 stars

*That Doll Looks Like Your Daughter!: Wholesome, loving, lifeless, and that uncanny valley...* 3 stars

*Reppies Agenda Revealed: Let's make a rainbow and do the electric slide, all for the glory of our New World Order overlords.* 2 1/2 stars

*Bully Bustin': "Sometimes, you gotta smack somebody."* 3 stars

-----------

USA Up All Night with host Rhonda Shear presents "Porky's 2" ----

*Win a piece of Rhonda's horrible (looks fingerpainted) artwork. Ha.* 3 stars

*Rhonda laments the flow of her particular pink piece of artwork.* close to 3 stars

*An operatic Korbel champagne commercial showing picturesque American life. yeah, maybe if you're drunk on Korbel.* 2 stars

*Turtle Wax magic and science to help shine your convertible using "science and magic." Available at K-Mart.* 2 1/2 stars

*Hurry to Sears for a 3 day paint sale.* 2 stars

*1 800 Collect will help you save on collect calls and it somehow helps a generic fake Yankee baseball player rob a homerun "Whatta save!"* close to 2 1/2 stars

*"Before Arnold, before Stallone, there was Skywalker." USA is showing the original Star Wars 8 / 7 central.* 3 stars

*Rhonda daydreams about 1950s romantic lifestyles and compares it to the 90s where she can't get a date, because all the guys are on dates with each other. Then, she reads fan mail about how much sexual energy she puts into her paintings, then she gives that painting away to said horny fan.* 3 stars

*Rhonda makes fun of male pushups in Porky's 2 as being "safe sex" and she shows off a horribly drawn portrait of her house with dog poop on the lawn.* 3 stars

*Rhonda cools off with a Snapple in a cheaply produced Snapple promo.* 2 1/2 stars

*Bluesy 90s slickly produced Greyhound bus travel commercial. I've taken a Greyhound bus trip. It's nowhere near this glamorous. It stinks, actually.* 2 1/2 stars

*The host of MTV Sports (whose name escapes me) is with Arnold in a Burger King BK TeeVee advertisement for the Summer of 93's biggest blockbuster "Last Action Hero."* close to 3 stars

*While a mom does some home repair, a toddler has a horrible gasoline accident and is shown in the hospital burn unit covered in bandages in one of those awful scary as shit PSA announcements from back in the day.* 3 stars

*GNC the authority on getting musclehead gym rats hooked on supplement taking pill addictions.* 2 star

*"Ever been curious about Hollywood girls?" Well, these babes dance luridly on the hosed down concrete floor of a large suburban downtown flat while dressed in leather and 60s biker hats in this phone sex 1 900 950 WILD commercial.* 3 stars

*Next is yet another phone sex commercial with girls looking straight out of Beverly Hills 90210. Wowza.* 3 stars

*Rhonda shows a classic "cut scene" from the Wizard of Oz "Suck my wand!" that just happens to have made it into Porky's 2. And Rhonda reads another fan letter in it which she continues to win over the hearts and views of fans for her offbeat sense of humor.* 3 stars

*Rhonda makes fishy faces with her self portrait.* close to 3 stars

*Then a hypnotic bumper with Rhonda twirling against a starlit background while wearing a one piece swimsuit / aerobics outfits. Wowza.* 3 stars

*never park your car without the CLUB anti-auto-theft device, especially if you live in a Texas Mexico bordertown. Ha. Whatever happened to those? I guess thieves figured out a way around the device.* 2 1/2 stars

*Beautiful, portrait pretty mornings begin at 8, that is Super 8 motel, and that is also if you're a yuppie business man driving around the backcountry (what business is there out there?) with a cup of steaming hot coffee on top of your Ford Taurus rental car.* 2 1/2 stars

*Murphy Brown is smart, right? I mean... she does have her own witty tv sitcom... and she is spokeswomanperson for SPRINT long distance in this big budget commercial with 90s quirky aesthetics featuring the tops of bald mens' heads with cartoon floating graphics and a thinktank lab with a huge brain in a robotic device... huh?* 2 1/2 stars

*"What could be worse than the cost of a yeast infection? How about the cost of curing it?" Femcare for the cheap lady with downstairs troubles. Wow, did women really skip feminine healthcare because of high cost? Glad I was too young to experience the joys of a woman back then.* 2 1/2 stars for weirdness

*A leading zooologist explains the difference between sparkling polar bears (ones who ice skate in a skirt) and sparkling rootbeer cream soda A & W rootbeer.* 3 stars

*After a terrorist strikes... Silk Stalkings on USA.* close to 3 stars

*Sean Connery is a space cowboy... high noon in outerspace... Outland on USA.* 3 stars

*Rhonda's factoid of the week: close to 3 million gallons of oil produced in America, almost enough to style Jerry Lewis's hair.* 2 stars

*No touch tire care in a can really frustrates blue collar motorheads.* 2 stars

*"There's nothing worse than a foul smelling pair of shoes?" Wait, what about yeast infections? Odor Eaters knocks the skunk right out (literally) of a pair of old men's dress shoes.* 3 stars

*Tri Star pictures presents Weekend at Bernies 2, starting July 9th, 1993.* 3 stars

*"Even the best need attention, know what I mean?" So says a blonde skank on a cheap looking phone sex advertisement.* 2 1/2 stars

*Sluts "love sharing secrets" on another phone sex ad. Now, they just share selfies and butt in mirror photos on twitter / instagram and it doesn't cost 3 dollars a minute.* 2 1/2 stars

*Patty and her orangutan pal Roger try little Caesar's pizza and spaghetti.* 3 stars

*Tough actin' Tinactin for CGI fungal fires on the feet of jocks.* 2 stars

*"America's hot new number, 1 800 Collect." they've even replaced the Hollywood sign with a 1 800 Collect Sign. Boy, will they feel dumb, when they realize no one uses collect calls anymore. Everyone has a wireless plan. Dumb, 1993, get with the times, already.* 2 stars

*Rhonda gives away a foot sculpture to a female fan wanting it for her husband's office. I guess her husband, Al, has a foot fetish.* 2 stars

*Live & Loud Ozzy's new album straight from his 92 tour available at Record Town and Tape World.* 2 1/2 stars

*30 something moms in party cowboy hats use Suave miracle anti-perspirant to survive their rowdy munchkin kids' birthday parties.* 2 1/2 stars

*Nintendo's Kirby comes from Dreamland to the real world to prove that he's "One Tough Cream Puff" in an awesomely animated into live action commercial.* 3 stars

*"It's never too late for an intimate phone adventure." So, dude, bro, pick up your oversized cordless house phone with the extra long antenna and dial up some horny chicks for only 3 bucks a minute, man.* 3 stars

*Rhonda hangs out with her Bart Simpson doll and shows off her "Bart art".* 3 stars

*Models, on a beach, have lips that need protection from the sun's harsh rays. So, they use Blistex. But, they probably should get out of the sun, because they all look so dark that they probably have skin cancer already.* 2 stars

*"Continuous Action Formula!" soft & dri super solid lady deoderant will have the fellas fawning over any high class city chick.* 3 stars

*A sign language lady uses conceal and heal wart remover.* 2 1/2 stars

*"If you use gasoline the wrong way, your dreams will go up and smoke." Your kids will die as it's put in another scary gasoline fire PSA. Was there this huge problem with misuse of gasoline back in the 80s and 90s? Sheesh!* 3 STARS

*A soft saxophone, a tropical window scene with flowing curtains in the wind, and a creepy narrator on camera, in a white tuxedo, let's us know about Eve and her need to forget, which she can't do, on EDEN coming to USA....* close to 3 stars

*Rhonda is sad to say that Robert DeNiro isn't in Porky's.* 2 stars

*Rhonda really doesn't like Porky's 2 and recommends that if you wanna watch Porky's 3, then rent Porky's 1 and change the number.* 2 1/2 stars

*And finally to get to the actual film presentation... for this chopped and censored to the point of little coherency comedy...* between 1 1/2 and 2 stars

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

Son of the Beach: Miso Honei *Pink beam at Point Break.* 2 1/2 stars

--- Black History Month -- Inter-racial Adult Art Film --

Dark Bros. presents "Black Throat" *A dumbass honky, a new-wave negro pimp, and a trash-talkin' plastic rat go on the hunt for an expert fellatio hoe named "Madame Mambo."* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

--------

From Dusk Till Dawn: Blood Runs Thick *The original was a good movie, but it could have used a 14 year old girl's i-phone conversation with her boyfriend, an unintentionally funny fist fight between the Gecko brothers, rice-milk refreshment breaks, and cute pink bunny accessories to remind one of just how sweet having a daughter can be... oh, also Fez, from That 70s Show, dressed up like Kool Moe D in Wild Wild West.* 2 stars

Kung Fu: An Eye For An Eye *A woman's right to choose death. Honestly, however, a thoughtful commentary on revenge.* 3 stars

The Walking Dead: What Happened.... *Swing low, sweet chariot.* 3 stars

Everything is Terrible -----

*Aerobic Self Defense: Don't be a victim, attack from the rear.* 3 stars

*Time to get it on, T. Bone: Sidney Party Yeah Uh... or however you spell and pronounce Sidney Pottier.* close to 3 stars

*Tax Day!: I'm not sayin' that we should be anarchists, I'm just sayin' we should commit anarchy.* 3 stars

*Oldies vs. Hippies!: The early bird gets stoned.* close to 3 stars

*Mark of the beast: Government is evil, ignore the patriotic background music. Worldly goods are fleeting, seek salvation, and send us your money.* 3 stars

---------

Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Painted Hills *Chewin' the scenery with Lassie.* 3 stars with riffing 2 stars without

--- Black History Month -- Black Cowboy Cinema ---

Fred Williamson in "Joshua" (1976) *Who is Joshua? to quote Joshua, "I'm my mother's son." Some bandits make the mistake of shooting his mama, in the back, before Joshua can reunite with her after the Civil War.* 2 1/2 stars

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

William Friedkin's "Sorcerer" (1977) *No futuro without risk.* 3 stars

"Glengarry Glen Ross" (1992) *Close the deal, you expletive-expletive-expletive...* 3 stars

X Files: Young At Heart *The curious case of Spooky Mulder.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

The Ben Stiller Show: Season 1 episode 2 *20 so years later, and Nick Kroll has almost the exact same show.* 2 1/2 stars

Everything is Terrible ----

*Learn to Fly: self levitate the expert way.* close to 2 1/2 stars

*Hunks Hunks Hunks!: "Smell the protein in this room."* either 1 star or close to 3 stars

*Here's How!: to be a show off.* 2 stars

*Greatest Song Ever Sung: Kathie Lee cares about the kids of genocide. Well, just kids in general, they sure are cute. Fuck adults in need, they're not as cute. Jesus was a kid too ya know. He was cute, too. "Like one of us," as a kid, but way cuter.* either zero stars or 2 1/2 stars

*4 Minute - The Alien Agenda - Endangered Species: Vote for Pedro for president of the X Files fan club.* 3 stars

----------

Viper: Ghosts *Reformed criminals, the paralyzed, holograms, and future cars -more than meets the eye.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

"John Wick" (2014) *"Everything has a price," but good action / fight choreography and a dead wife's puppy are priceless.* 3 stars

Hannibal: Coquilles *About as much fun as a tumor.* zero stars

American Horror Story: Coven "The Dead" *Satisfaction.* 2 1/2 stars

Black Sails: Season 1 episode 3 *Ship without a captain.* close to 2 1/2 stars

Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Magic Voyage of Sinbad *"There goes a stupid, stupid man." Fake Sinbad, the father of modern socialism.* close to 2 stars with riffing between 1/2 and 1 star without

Rinse Dream presents "Cafe Flesh" (1982) *"A tableau of desire in decline." The perfect mindfuck Dear John paranoid love letter from the dawn of the AIDS-HIV era to the end of the 'Free Love' era.* 3 stars

True Detective: Who Goes There? *She done gone. Tyrone. Drugged out, deep cover.* 3 stars

Crossballs, the debate show: Reality TV No Survivors *"They fall in love in a hot tub, just like us."* 3 stars

Channel 4 in the U.K. presents Ban This Filth: episode 1 *Prudish, old ladies -the purveyors and "haters" (a term that I despise) of perverted behavior.* close to 3 stars

David Fincher's "Gone Girl" (2014) *An ode to the psychotic climate of hysteria caused by media jackals like Nancy Grace.* 3 stars

The Ben Stiller Show: season 1 episode 3 *To boldly go where Bruce Springsteen has never gone before.* 2 1/2 stars

Justified: season 1 episode 3 *"Seems like everyone here is from someplace else."* close to 3 stars

Swamp Thing: The Hunt *A rolling stone gathers some moss.* close to 2 1/2 stars

"Johnny Dangerously" *An exciting age of criminality.* 3 stars

Everything is Terrible ----

*Dana Carvey Is Rolling Over In His Grave: Have mercy, Church Lady.* 2 1/2 stars

*Creep Scientist Fantasy Karaoke: "It's nice to remember." Just don't make it weird.* close to 3 stars

*Cookin' Up Profits!: Elderly ladies are pie baking and financial experts.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

*Christian Puppets Are Selfish: Share everything, including yourself, with stuffed animal puppets of the faith.* 2 1/2 stars

*BEV!: "She'll kill us." during our middle aged lady step aerobic workout.* 3 stars

---------

Thundarr the Barbarian: Last Train To Doomsday *Can't keep a Gemini wizard under wraps. Plus, 1960s Marvel comic books become an instructional handbook for sorcery weirdos of the post-apocalypse.* 3 stars

Weird Science: Party High USA *School curriculum for those willing to stay stupid or hoping to become scumbags.* 2 1/2 stars

Max Headroom: Dream Thieves *In an age where people trade their dreams for dreams, Swamp Thing's Arcane is also an old friend / rival of Edison Carter.* 3 stars

"A Scanner Darkly" (2006) *We're all trying to escape, and we're all unknowingly being observed while trying. That's when we're unwittingly put to uses.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Night Stand with Dick Dietrick--- (1996)

*Fashion VIctims - Lowering High Fashion Standards: Getting heavy with emaciated models.* close to 2 1/2 stars for the topic's performance 3 stars for Timothy Stack's jokes

*Secret Lives... Exposing Ourselves: Hot For Teacher - A teacher moonlights as a porn star. "Say it loud, I'm practically black and I'm proud." - A light skinned black man is shocked to discover that he's half black and not Italian. The Perfect Mom & Dad turn out to be Dad & Mom* close to 3 stars

-------

Mortal Kombat - Legacy: Jax, Sonya, and Kano *TEST YOUR MIGHT at the Ace Chemicals / Skynet factory.* 3 stars

Freddy's Nightmares: Safe Sex ----

*A picky dweeb's Satanic attraction and death by wet dream.* 3 stars

*An outcast chick's obsession with Freddy goes too far.* 3 stars

------

American Horror Story: Murder House "Smoldering Children" *Familial putridity.* close to 3 stars

X Files: E.B.E. *Piss up an Idian rope trick. There's an 18 wheeler causing alien confusion as it travels a shadowy path across America.* 3 stars

From Dusk Till Dawn, the series: Mistress *Harbingers, whore offerings, and head-shrinking.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Banshee: season 1 episode 1 *A raccoon running from a rabbit. A -just out of prison- thief steals the identity of a deceased new sheriff to a Walking Tall type backwoods corrupt town.* 3 stars

American Horror Story: Coven "The Sacred Taking" *Thrill rides, terminal goodbyes, two way roads, and tingles of the cooch.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Red Shoe Diaries: Another Woman's Lipstick *Girl in guy drag and a David Lynch inspired striptease.* 3 stars

---- Valentine's Three Way Movie Feature ---

John Cassavetes in "Incubus" (1982) *Try a little tenderness. Try a little cursed bestiality.* 3 stars

Paul Verhoeven's "Basic Instinct" (1992) *Torrid 90s trash revisited.* either 1 star or close to 2 1/2 stars

Michael Ninn's "Fade to Blue" *Get 'yer kicks on Route 66. It's a stylized xxx religious experience.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

-----------

Werner Herzog's "Lessons of Darkness" (1992) *Scorched earth war disgrace, the Book of Revelation, and fossil fuel drudgery, danger, madness -all from an alien perspective.* 3 stars

Stephen King's "Storm of the Century" (mini-series) *Born in sin, the Weather Channel's Jim Cantore, come on in.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Fargo: Eating the Blame *Greenbacks, grasshoppers, gospel, and the gristle of a riddle.* 3 stars

"Winter People" (1988) *Milk, honey, and time a flowin.' Kurt Russell plays against type as a gentle clockmaker / Ichabod Crane type in a Hatfields & McCoys style hillbilly period piece.* between 2 and 2 1/2 stars

Cinematic Titanic: Legacy of Blood *"Tijuana snuff films are more wholesome."* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars with riffing close to 2 stars without riffing

Son of the Beach: South of Her Border *Labia & Johnson. Erik Estrada & Marsha Brady.* close to 3 stars (despite all the stale bean fart jokes, it manages to be funny)

Northern Exposure: Dreams, Schemes, and Putting Greens *"Wine 'em, dine 'em, stick 'em with the tab." ... or leave 'em standing in the rain at the 18th hole... or leave 'em standing at the altar singing showtunes.* 3 stars

Everything Is Terrible ----

Freedom Song: Show us yer tits fer freedom.* 3 stars

Fiddlin' With My...: Would you rather be in Branson with Shoji or would you rather be a mule?* 3 stars

Dreaming of Foxy Boxing: That cloud looks like a cat fight.* close to 3 stars

Dinner With The Abortionists!: "Ask your wife." quoting a slimeball abortion performing doctor.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

The Lottery Guru!: Hint, hint, you'll never win the lottery. Hint, hint, invest in firearms.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

------

Night Stand with Dick Dietrick ---

Illegal Aliens Star Search: Immigrant talent show for the prize of a green card.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars (3 plus stars for the Phil Hartman cameo)

Hooked on Hookers: Sexy Social Outrage.* close to 3 stars

------

Crossballs, the debate show: American Driving, Carmageddon *Defensive drivers on the defensive against aggressive comedians.* 3 stars

"Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man" (1991) *"Come on and take a free ride." - John the Baptist $T.M.$ If they make this movie for the millenial generation, it will be called 'Rob Dyrdek and the Starbucks Person,' and it will pack a limp wristed punch.* 2 1/2 stars

Hill Street Blues: Your Kind, My Kind, Humankind *Being true to one's self and the team.* 3 stars

The Walking Dead: Them *A deathdream last episode and now this episode has an exhaustion zombie fight, a pack of wild dogs, worm eating & dog eating, mysterious note and a gift of water at the point of dehydration, a backroad tornado out of nowhere, solace in a shack in the middle of nowhere, and a zombie siege on the shack that seemed to spell the end of everyone in the group (which turns out to be a dream? or did they all just die?). This second half of the season is taking a turn into surreal southern gothic.* 3 stars

"In Cold Blood" (1967) *The point in modern America where we all took a dreaded detour into a conscience of indifferent malice that we've been driving on ever since.* 3 stars

"Nightcrawler" (2014) *Hollywood really wants us to sympathize with their paparazzi plight. A success driven psycho is nihilistic about bringing skid row sensationalism to the Southern California suburban news market.* close to 3 stars

The Ben Stiller Show: Season 1 Episode 4 *Melrose changes people. Ben finds out this when Andy Dick turns into a hipster bitch on the back of a biker dyke's harley.* 3 stars

--- Black History Month --- Cultural Cliches Comedy ----

Melvin and Mario Van Peebles present "Identity Crisis" (1989) *Gianni Versace is my homeboy. Rest in peace, my gay nigga.* close to 2 stars

------

Ban This Filth: episode 2 *"I would rather live in a vast, treeless desert without filth."* 2 1/2 stars

Hippies: Hippy Dippy Hippies *"Painting the house of ideas, shit brown," like a pig would.* 3 stars

"The Satisfiers of Alpha Blue" a Gerard Damiano xxx film (1980) *In the future, in the ruins of a space age commune, survivors hump, day & night, like bunny astronauts. They have this calculator connected to the future internet, and surprise the internet is mostly for sex, where they can dial up and beam up "satisfiers" to fulfill their every sexual need. But is it enough?* 2 1/2 stars

Farscape: Through The Looking Glass *3, 5, prime. Red, yellow, blue. Dizzy, loud, and funny too.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Wizards and Warriors: The Rescue *"I wouldn't want to fight a dragon that I could see, let alone an invisible dragon." Yeah, that's right, an invisible dragon.* 3 stars

Cinematic Titanic: Frankenstein's Castle of Freaks *"It's like Clint Howard and Gentle Ben had a kid, and he's choking me!" It's also like Eegah! meets The Sinful Dwarf.* 3 stars with riffing between 2 and 2 1/2 stars without

American Horror Story: Asylum "Spilt Milk" *Nursing a grudge.* close to 3 stars

"The Babysitter's Club Video #1 Mary Anne and the Brunettes" (1990) *Scholastic and craptastic. Mommy / gossip / relationship training for young chicks who can't even get their darn ears pierced. Weird to see so many kids and zero adults in this Charlie Brown / Children of the Corn town.* 1 star

Jr. Christian Science Vol. 1 *One of Tim & Eric's weirdo friends hosts an early 90s public access educational children's show. A chore to sit through, but almost worth it for the moments where he loses his cool when the production doesn't go exactly his way, and it features some of the most awkward singing and puppetry ever combined.* 1 star

Mortal Kombat - Legacy: Johnny Cage *True Hollywood story, death of the action star.* 2 1/2 stars

"Constantine" (2005) *Keanu Reeves as a wanker. Shy LePoof as a hardnosed cabbie sidekick. Tilda Swinton in guy drag. Hollywood knows what comic fans want. They want their beloved characters americanized and the movie version to be filled with techno music and cgi in every single shot.* between 2 and 2 1/2 stars

From Dusk Till Dawn, the series: Let's Get Ramblin' *Soul cleansing, soul redeeming, power in the blood.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Forever Knight: for I have Sinned *and sat in judgement.* close to 3 stars

"Exorcist 2: The Heretic" (1977) *Plight of the white wing dove. Not enough mood or scares, and too much of all of the following: pseudo science astral projection / mental flashbacks, jazz tap dance, big over the top special fx, traversing the globe, and Linda Blair vanity project / poor acting. James Earl Jones, Louise Fletcher, and Richard BUrton are great, though.* between 1 1/2 and 2 stars

Hannibal: Entree *"A bunch of psychopaths helping each other out."* 3 stars

American Horror Story: Coven "Head" *Proudly marching to the guillotine of perdition.* 3 stars

"Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror" (1981) *Eye-Talian style maggot-filled weapon-wielding zombies laying siege on a gothic mansion. Gore filled disembowling deaths, shot gun blasts to zombie skulls, smashing / chopping zombies / people to bits, and titty chewing. Gloriously over the top dubbing. And lastly a "child" or dwarf(?) actor that makes Bud Cort look normal.* 3 stars

Tales from the Crypt: Only Sin Deep *Pretty woman on loan from the pawn shop.* 3 stars

The Walking Dead: The Distance *Rick Grimes, the most justifiably paranoid man on the planet of the undead, will watch gay love, from the shadows, just to make sure someone's intentions are legit.* close to 3 stars

"Sticks and Stones" (1996) *Another of those generic mid-1990s coming of age / the dangers of handguns in a family home / absentee parents (too busy being a doctor more than a mom Kirstie Alley) / abusive white trash parents (father of the main bully) / dealing with school bullies and also brothers who are bullies too (Zack from Saved by the Bell. *barf* on both accounts) and the bullied (a young and pudgy Seth Rogen, you would think but the kid's name is Max Goldblatt along with his bully tackling overprotective daddy played by Gary Busey), complete with that wholesome Americana past-time of baseball as a connecting theme for this sentimental tripe.* either 1/2 a star or close to 2 stars

--- Black History Month --- Bon Voyage Film Feature ---

"Trippin" (1996) *A young brutha and perpetual slacker, during his senior year in highschool, is constantly escaping reality into his fantasies that often feature fly booty honeys.* 2 1/2 stars

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1 note · View note

smiley-stark · 7 years ago

Text

I’m a Mess

Bucky Barnes Song Imagine

(I got this idea today while doing some cleaning. Many songs came on but the minute this one came through the speakers, I thought of Bucky. Please enjoy!)

warnings: probably (?) some language, but mainly just some fluffy, angsty Bucky! *not my gif*

a/n: i wrote this and it took a long time, due to some family emergencies I cannot edit it right now, I’m really sorry. please leave feedback, thank you!!

oh, I’m a mess right now, inside out searching for a sweet surrender but this is not the end I cant work it out, how? going through the motions, going through us. and oh, I’ve known it for the longest time all of my hopes, all of my words, are all over written on the signs when you’re on my road walking me home

After returning from HYDRA, Bucky experienced many obstacles. Learning to trust himself, learning to trust others. Never could he imagine that while learning to love himself, he would fall for you. After many months of learning and growing together, he let his guard down and allowed you in.

Of course this was stressful for the both of you. Both of you had been broken down. Both of you had to be built back up. Bucky, although it was difficult, loved you endlessly. Your laugh, your smile, your personality.

Of course you fell for him and as time went by, you learned to love the good and the bad that came with Bucky. He had night terrors almost every night. Some nights he would he would wake you, even though you stayed in a different room. Eventually, you learned how to clean up the mess HYDRA had left in Bucky, learning how to love that part of him, too.

See the flames inside my eyes? It burns so bright I want to feel your love. Easy baby, maybe I’m alive, but for tonight I want to fall in love put your faith in my stomach

Being a part of the Avengers was a blessing and a curse. Though you got to be close to Bucky and make friends, your powers weren’t exactly something you were proud of. You hid them until it was absolutely necessary. Not only did they make you feel like a monster, but in someways they made you look like one.

Steve let a soft laugh escape his lips as he walked into the training room with your small group. Today you’d be training with Sam, Steve, Bucky, and Clint. Thankfully. You couldn’t stand the thought of training with Natasha and Wanda, they were both so beautiful. Their abilities were amazing and you never once doubted how strong the were.

“Alright, who wants to go first?” Steve asked, turning to face the group. Of course, Sam volunteered to ‘get it over with’.

You sat back with the other guys and watched Sam go. There were two trials on this training day.

Sparring being the first and fighting in Tony’s new virtual system being the second. Today was the first time the whole team would be able to test the new technology.

After Sam (successfully) finished his trials, it was your turn.

“Let’s go, (y/l/n)! Hop up in here and show us what ya got, kid!” Steve encouraged while you fought an exaggerated eye roll.

Stepping onto the mat, Steve stood across from you.

“Ready?” He asked once you had pulled your gloves off, ready to spar.

“As I’ll ever be.” You responded, bending at the knees as the timer counted down. “How many falls?”

“I’ll go easy on you and say one.” Steve quipped, instantly making you angry.

The timer went off and he ran at you. Coolly, you stood straight up, awaiting his attack. A split second before his body crashed into yours, you slid to the side.

He chuckled, tossing a punch your way. The two of you battled it out for a good 5 minutes before you finally had a solid chance at winning. Grasping under his arm, you swung him over your head, almost throwing him off of the mat, hearing Bucky and Sam cheer. You landed elbow first and pinned him down, winning the session.

Standing in the generator, you took the opponents on with just your fists, trying not to use your power.

“You do know you can use your power, right?” Sam called into the room. “You’re lucky, you know? I don’t get one of those.”

again, you were angry.

You tossed your gloves to the side again, balling your fists in anger and tilting your head down. Your hands and hair ignited instantly, fire engulfing your peripheral vision and taking over your mind as you marched forward. You took every opponent down in a matter of seconds, burning the room’s synthetic walls to a crisp.

When the session ended, you fell to your knees, hair finally returning to its previous state. This was the first time Bucky had seen your power and he stood at the threshold with his mouth wide open.

Turning, you saw his reaction, immediately grabbing your gloves and running out of the room, ignoring his yells.

He burst into your room, right behind you.

“You’re amazing” he muttered, taking your hands in his and kissing them.

“I’m a monster.” You stated firmly, ripping your hands from his grip. You immediately regretted your choice of words, seeing Bucky clench his jaw. He grabbed your face in the most gentle yet urgent way you could imagine.

“You take that back right now.”

“Bucky, I-”

“I love you. I love you. I love your powers. I love you.” He whispered, looking at the ground. “If you could learn to love me... If you can believe I’m truly good... Why can’t you understand that you’re amazing?” He asked, sadness and worry pouring with every word.

“Bucky, I love you too. So much.” You whispered, caressing his cheek with your thumb.

“Then do me a favor. Let me love you, Trust me. You fixed me. Let me help you.” He said, tone serious. His eyes never left yours as he waited for your reply.

“I will. Just don’t leave me tonight, please.” You whispered, knowing you needed his comfort.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

I messed up this time, late last night drinking to suppress devotion with fingers intertwined I can’t shake this feeling now going through the motions hoping you’d stop

Coming home after a long mission was always exciting, especially when your return would be a surprise. You had just gotten word that you would be returning around 11 pm this evening. The mission was only you, Tony, and Natasha. The three of you had been gone for a little over a month with no communication for safety reasons.

When you were less than an hour from the tower, you texted Steve.

‘hey, we’ll be back soon! missed ya. would you let me know where bucky is in a bit? i wanna surprise him!’ you pressed send, smiling at how the message was read within seconds.

‘yay! can’t wait to see you guys again. Buck has been moping around since the day you left! but i’ll let you know where he is when you guys are close.’ He responded, followed by a string of emojis. You chuckled and sent back a smiley face and a thumbs up, knowing it would make your dear friend happy.

About thirty minutes passed before your phone went off again.

‘(Y/N)? i think something’s wrong with Bucky. He left and wouldn’t stay to hear me out??’. The message sent a shock down your spine.

‘Hm... if you can track him, I’ll surprise him wherever he goes? Maybe he just needs some comfort. You know how hard it is for him to sleep and relax on his own...’. You sent the message, twiddling your thumbs while you waited for his response.

‘Sure thing!’.

‘Landing in a moment, send me those coordinates, Rogers!’.

A small map appeared on the screen, clicking on it revealed that he was at a bar on the edge of town. You couldn’t help the sigh that slipped out of your mouth, causing Natasha to look over.

“Bucky?” She asked, clearly seeing through the situation.

“Yep.”

“Go, I’ll take your bags for you.” She smiled.

“No, I can’t make you-”

“(Y/n). Go.” She said again, insisting. You nodded in response and left immediately from the jet, hopping into one of Tony’s many cars and going straight to the pub.

Walking in your heart sank. There he was. Eyes tired and cast down , body fatigued, drink in hand. His hair was oily and stuck down, covering his face. His under eyes were dark and signaled a lack of sleep. You looked over, seeing an extremely pretty girl trying to get his attention. You decided to stay back and see where he would take it.

The two of them spoke, his eyes not leaving the bar’s counter top. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around his arm and slid her hand up to his, intertwining their fingers. He stayed staring forward, holding the one sided affection for a moment before shaking her off and standing.

His eyes went towards the door, gaze falling on you. He immediately approached your now questioning figure, hugging you tightly. You were going to get mad. Until you felt the wetness of tears on your shoulder, that is. You stepped outside, wiping his tears and walking to the car with him.

The car ride was silent. The walk to the tower was silent. You waited until you were behind closed doors and so did he.

“Baby, I missed you so much. Please understand that I’ve never seen that woman before just now, and I couldn’t even think about what she was saying to me because I was too taken over by you.” He said, ton serious and obviously sincere.

“Are you alright?” You asked, running a thumb over his lower lip, placing a kiss over the spot you had just touched. He pulled you to his chest again, and you felt his body shake with sobs.

“Honey, I missed you more than I thought possible. I can’t sleep. I can hardly eat. Not knowing that you’re okay. Oh God-” His body shook even more at the thought of losing you.

“Hey! Hey its okay Bucky. I’m back. I’m here. Safe in your arms. I love you.” You whispered calming him down and rubbing his back.

“I love you.” He said, eyes meeting yours moments before his lips did. You relaxed into the kiss, trying to rid yourselves of any personal space.

For how long, long I love my lover And I feel love I feel it all over now

Sitting on the sofa in your shared room, you waited for Bucky to finish in the shower. After a moment of flipping through the TV channels, you gave up and turned it off, sitting back further into your seat. Looking around the small room, a sudden realization washed over you,

You were in love. With Bucky. And he loved you.

You had started a life together, living together, working together. You clicked so well. You fit in his arms, as cliche as it is, perfectly. You made him feel like HYDRA was worth it. You made him believe in fate, and he made you believe in true love. Seeing him exit the bathroom, towel around his waist and a hand towel drying his hair, you couldn’t help blurting it out.

“I love you, James”

“And I love you (y/n). So much.” He said, the sparkle in his eyes glinted as it always did when he told you he loved you.

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acelucky · 6 years ago

Text

Title: The real hero

Warnings: Angst/alcohol/depression Characters: Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff & Loki. Pairing: Bruce x Loki (briefly at end) Word Count: 2,750

Summary: Bruce is drunk and in a highly emotional state, Natasha tries to comfort him but he sends her away, afraid he’ll end up saying or doing something he cannot take back. Just as he is drifting off, an unlikely guest appears at the front door to over comfort. The fic is very much in two halves in terms of tone, and I apologise the end is a little rushed, I kept re-writing it and in the end I settled on this. However, I may re-write and add to it at some point.

This is my first ever Marvel fanfic! Over the past year it’s pretty much all been Tolkien and now Red Dead Redemption fics, but I wrote this for NaNoWriMo and finally got round to editing it this afternoon. @cassandrafey enjoy!

“I don’t want to do this anymore!” Bruce screamed and threw the empty bottle against the wall, it shattered into hundreds of tiny shards.

For a moment it was as if he could see each one, representing fragments of his life that had gone wrong, a puzzle that could no longer be fixed. For a moment, it was beautiful, like snow in January, before the rain, before everything melts away into nothing.

“Bruce, please,” Natasha begged, tears stinging her eyes, afraid for a man she had nothing but love and respect for.

Bruce looked up, his shirt ripped, bruises on his knuckles which had been worn through. His eyes were heavy and dark, he was crying and clasped his hands together as if in prayer. He slumped to the ground in a heap.

Natasha just watched, unsure of what to say, or whether there was anything she could do to help him in such a hopeless moment. She’d never seen Bruce like this before, sure, she’d been him nervous, seen him sad, but usually he was level-headed and calmer. It made her afraid, afraid that there was something she had missed previously, that he was like this a lot more behind closed doors, but never admitted it to anyone. Then, she supposed he had always been a bit of a loner.

She sighed and walked towards him, afraid to touch him and that it could be the contact that breaks him.

“Natasha, I need you to leave, I am…” He sniffed and pulled himself to his feet. “I am so, so sorry, I can’t have you seeing me like this, I don’t want to hurt you,” he begged as he shuffled towards her, barely able to stand.

Natasha bit her lip and stood firm, “You never could, you silly old bear,” she started to cry but tried to hold back the tears.

“Look,” as Bruce got closer to her he held out a hand, “Look at me, I am nothing, nothing compared to the man I once was.”

Natasha stepped forward and choked out, “No, you’re more Bruce, you’re more and I,” she broke down as she walked into his arms, rested her head on his chest, “You’re the only one, the only one I could ever allow to see me like this.”

“I know my dove, but I need you to leave, please,” Bruce didn’t put his arms around her, he left them, cold, by his side.

“Why are you doing this? Isolating yourself, is this what becomes of us? I thought you were stronger than Tony,” she said as she stepped back.

Bruce laughed, “Sorry to disappoint.”

Natasha wiped the moisture from under her eyes, “That isn’t what I meant, and I shouldn’t have said that about Tony either but,” she sighed exasperated, scared that anything she said would make the situation worse, “Maybe it would help if you spoke to him?”

Bruce smiled, briefly and shook his head, “Some people are too lost Natasha, long gone into the fog, out of the blue and into the black as Neil Young says.” He clasped his hands together then unclasped them as quickly and held his hands up to the sky.

“The things I have seen, if most humans had seen… They would never sleep again and yet that’s all I want, all I dream of.”

“This isn’t you…”

The words hit hard, yes, this wasn’t him, he knew that but then who was he? He spent most of his life as Bruce Banner but then as The Hulk… he was a man, an avenger, he had travelled across time and space, come face to face with Gods and now he was so tired, sleep was all he wanted. Or to have time out, to watch the night’s sky go by without a care in the world. Childhood wasn’t even a distant memory, it was a concept that no longer existed in his mind.

“Bruce, please…don’t let it be like this,” Natasha felt herself choking on her words as she spoke.

“Natasha… I know, I know okay, I know, I just need to be alone for a bit.”

“But, I’m afraid,” she confessed, her voice now a little raised.

“I’ll be okay,” Lying was easy to Bruce now.

Natasha sighed, she knew she wasn’t going to win him round tonight. Defeated she went to hug him goodbye, “Promise me two things, firstly, you’ll speak to Tony, please… Secondly, text me before you go to sleep.”

He nodded and kissed her forehead, “You know I’m only sending you away to protect you right?”

“I know, but what if I don’t need protection?” She smiled fondly at him and turned to leave. It was hard to walk away from him, hard to close the door and shut him off, but if Natasha had learnt anything in recent years, there are some fights you are never going to win.

When Natasha was gone, Bruce felt like he could breathe, the alcohol was still surging through his veins. He had so much energy that he didn’t know how The Hulk hadn’t made an appearance.

He paced around his apartment, clenching and unclenching his fists, eventually he resigned himself to try and sleep and collapsed onto the sofa.

Bruce started to drift off to sleep, he laid off the booze just as Natasha had instructed, he knew she was right, it’s not that he wanted to die, no one wants to die, not really. But people, they want to escape pain and suffering, they want to live for just one moment free of the horrors of mankind, of loneliness of ones existential terror.

He had decided it was best to sleep on the sofa, the blinds were wide open so he could stare at the moon as he drifted in and out of consciousness. It was a full moon, so perfect and bright, he pictured the rabbit on the moon, he pictured the rabbits in watership down chasing one another, a blood red sunset, fields of wheat, the smell of grass in summer.

Just as he beginning to find peace he heard a knock at the door.

“Go away!” He shouted.

“That’s not like you at all Bruce.”

His eyes opened wide as he recognised the sarcastic tone coming from the other side of his door, “Loki?” He asked.

“The very same.”

Bruce got off the sofa and marched towards the front door, he didn’t open it at first, he looked through the peep hole and saw the trickster god stood the other side, wearing a suit.

He sighed and opened the door, “How can I help you at this late hour?”

“I think it’s more what I can do to help you, don’t you?” He raised an eyebrow as he walked in.

“You look like the child snatcher from Pinocchio, or the singer in an aged goth band,” Bruce closed the door and rest against it for a moment, cursing both himself and Loki.

Loki laughed, “Well what would you have had me come here in, full horns? Or maybe you like that? I could have also come in my true form, frost giant and all that, but not sure how your neighbours would feel about a member of the blue man group walking around now do you?”

Bruce wanted to ask how Loki knew who Blue Man Group were, but he was too tired.

“I understand you’re going through a bit of a rough patch…”

“A bit…that’s an understatement.”

“Ahhh forgive me, but you see I think I can help.”

Loki started to go through the cupboard in his kitchen, “Do you have any red wine?”

“Oh sure, help yourself.” Bruce rolled his eyes.

Loki started to pour a glass then looked at Bruce, “For you?”

“I’m already fucked so why not.”

Loki entered the lounge with two glasses of wine, Bruce had turned a lamp on in the corner of the room so they weren’t sat in total darkness. Loki sat down next to Bruce and handed him the glass which was nearly full to the brim with an over-generous helping of wine.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I can help you. You might not believe it, but I too have been where you are.”

“What living in an apartment in downtown New York.”

A smile spread across Loki’s face, “Are you always this sarcastic? I expected this level of childish display from Tony but not from you.”

Bruce sighed, “I’m tired okay? What do you want from me Loki? To sit here and listen to you, to break down and cry in front of you?”

Loki put his arm around Bruce, “I want to help you, I want to ensure you have a good night’s sleep and that in the morning you will go and talk to the others, help them to help you.”

Bruce removed Loki’s arm and shook his head, “Right, it’s just none of this sounds like you.” He got to his feet and walked over to the window, gazing out across the city lights.

“Oh, you think I’ve got something up my sleeve?”

“You are the trickster God are you not?”

Loki gave a laugh, “Well observed my friend, yes, but… If you must know, I rather owe Thor and I figure what a nice way to repay him for what he’s done for me recently, looking out for his friend. And because, believe it or not, I am trying to become a better person.”

Bruce scoffed.

Loki followed him to the window, “Laugh all you want Bruce, it’s true, I have been shunned most of my life, perhaps now I am older, wiser, I wanted to know what it would be like to be accepted, included in the lives of others.”

Bruce turned to face Loki, “Okay, let’s say I buy this good-guy act from you and believe that you truly want to help me. What can you offer that Natasha couldn’t?”

Loki paused for a moment and cast his eyes out on the night sky, admiring the city lights and the beauty that was contained in something man-made. Despite their appetite for destruction, the human race really could be delightful at times, he mused.

Loki shrugged, “Maybe nothing, but maybe what you need is to talk to someone who isn’t a part of your inner circle, gain a different persective and to stop feeling so sorry for yourself.”

Bruce gave a mirthless laugh, “Great, that’s cheered me up, sure I’ll stop feeling sorry for myself and whilst I’m at it I’ll just stop worrying, be happy, it’s oh so easy.”

Loki chuckled quietly to himself, “If only sober you could hear yourself now! I don’t mean it will be easy, life is not that simple… Most of life is a grey area, I just mean that this isn’t like you. Whilst self-pity can be okay for a time, it is important not to let it consume you, to drown in it, or you’ll start believing your own lies about yourself.”

Bruce took a long sip of wine and ran his hand through his hair, “I just…” he felt embarrassed by the confession that was about to spill from his lips, “I just, I don’t know how to, I don’t know how to move on. I tried writing everything down, but it was so chaotic that it just didn’t help, if anything it made me feel worse.”

Loki looked across to Bruce, he felt something in him that was rare, he truly felt sorry for Bruce and wanted to help. The other looked so helpless, so depressed and ruined, he reached out again and placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, this time Bruce didn’t pull away.

“Right now, you need sleep, that’s all there is to it, a nice long sleep in a comfy bed.”

Bruce nodded, he knew that things always looked better in the morning.

“I’ll stay here tonight, I would say I’d make you a nice breakfast, but we both know that won’t happen. But I’ll order us something, some orange juice, some good coffee… and then we’ll talk, we’ll write everything down, but in a much more organised fashion. We will come up with a plan together and then I’m taking you to see Tony, though forgive me if I don’t hang around.”

Bruce nodded again, all of this sounded logical, he didn’t know whether he had cried so much that there was nothing left in him or whether it was how tired he was or the wine… Or maybe it was Loki almost casting a spell of him, but he suddenly felt a lot calmer, more sure of himself and to his surprise he found himself believing in Loki’s words.

“Okay, sounds good,” Bruce walked away from the window and placed his glass on a coffee table, “I think that’s enough of that for tonight.”

Loki smiled, “Good, that’s the first step,” he moved towards Bruce and opened his arms up.

Bruce wasn’t sure what possessed him, but in that moment he welcomed the hug, Loki’s arms were surprisingly warm around him. The two of them stood for a minute or so in a tight embrace, Loki gently rubbing Bruce’s back, and Bruce feeling a strange sensation of wanting to melt into his arms.

Loki whispered into Bruce’s ear, “Good boy, all you need is sleep, sweet, sweet sleep and I’ll be right here.”

Loki’s hot breath against Bruce’s ear made his skin tingle and a shiver went up his spine.

“I’ve got you, I promise everything is going to be okay,” Loki continued and placed a kiss to Bruce’s temple as he pulled away.

The kiss was brotherly? Bruce couldn’t quite place his finger on it, brotherly, yes, but, there was something in the way Loki had looked at him, maybe it was the wine talking or the drama of the day but there was a brief moment where he thought there was something more in it.

“I will never be able to live up to my name, I feel...” Bruce paused and looked away, “The Hulk is such a big part of me, what if I loose myself to him?”

Loki shook his head, “Shhh that won’t happen, everyone knows that Bruce is the real hero.”

Bruce smiled at these words of comfort and tried to believe them.

Loki’s hands were on his shoulders, he was smiling warmly and Bruce realised his hands had dropped so they were sat at Loki’s waist.

The following day, when Bruce would look back on the events of the night before, he would recall what happened next as part of an elaborate dream. It was a hazy memory, something that he couldn’t quite touch. But he was certain it had been real.

Loki leaned in, pressed his lips to Bruce’s and they stood for a moment, lips touching, a slow, tortuous kiss. Loki’s hands in his hair, gently holding him as his tongue slipped into the other’s mouth. The kiss lasted maybe a minute at most, Bruce didn’t pull away, rather he welcomed the moment of comfort and connection with another. Loki took control, guiding Bruce and pulling him in closer to his chest.

When Loki pulled away he was expressionless for a moment and then a small smile crept onto his face as he stared towards the floor. It was a smile Bruce had seen many times before, a slightly wicked, confused smile.

“Right then, sleep for you my friend,” Loki patted Bruce on the back as if nothing had happened, and in a way Bruce was grateful. He was too confused to discuss what had happened and decided instead to just take it for what it was, an enjoyable, loving kiss.

As he walked towards his bedroom he felt a strange calm as if a spell had been cast over him. He had sobered up, he was relaxed, and when he thought of all that had been troubling him earlier he found he was able to process the fears and rationalise.

Loki tucked him into bed without a word, when he reached the door to the bedroom he turned round as he turned off the light, “Goodnight Bruce.”

Loki sat alone on the sofa finishing the two glasses of wine, whilst he knew how much Bruce had needed his comfort and that kiss, he finally realised just how much he too had needed to come to the apartment that night.

#Bruce Banner #loki laufeyson #Loki #natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #mine #cw: anxiety #cw: alcohol

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