#someone in the comments said that he would like the festival more because it draws all the rich people out of their houses

[mechazushi]

So... about the Art Festival Short...

[sleepykye]

Sweet Dreams..

Tamaki being jealous while walking around the school festival with you

The U.A. High School festival was in full swing, and the campus buzzed with excitement. Booths lined the walkways, and students and visitors alike filled the grounds, eager to partake in the various activities and performances. The air was filled with the scent of festival foods and the sound of laughter.

You, a fellow student, were dressed in a charming maid outfit as part of your class's maid café booth. The café had been a hit, drawing in many customers, but you had managed to get a break to explore the festival. Tamaki Amajiki, your shy and endearing friend, was waiting for you outside the café, looking slightly nervous but excited.

When you stepped out, Tamaki's face turned a deep shade of red. "Y-Y/N, you look... really nice," he stammered, his eyes darting away.

You smiled brightly, adjusting the frilly apron of your outfit. "Thanks, Tamaki! Ready to check out the festival?"

He nodded, his blush deepening. "Yeah, let's go."

The two of you wandered through the bustling festival grounds, visiting various booths and enjoying the activities. Tamaki, though usually reserved, seemed to relax a bit in your company, his nervousness easing as you laughed and chatted.

You dragged him to a game booth where you tried your hand at winning a stuffed animal, then to a food stall where you sampled some delicious takoyaki. Tamaki's anxiety flared up again as he noticed the increasing number of male students casting appreciative glances your way and making comments about your maid outfit.

At one point, a group of boys walked by, openly admiring you. "Wow, she's so cute in that outfit," one of them said, not bothering to lower his voice.

Tamaki's grip on his takoyaki stick tightened, his jealousy bubbling up, but he tried to brush it off, not wanting to ruin your fun. You, seemingly oblivious to the attention, continued to enjoy the festival, your cheerful demeanour never wavering.

As the day went on, you suggested taking a photo together in a themed photo booth. Tamaki hesitated but agreed, following you into the booth. As you waited in line, more students approached, complimenting your outfit and asking for photos with you.

Tamaki's discomfort was evident, but he forced a smile, trying to keep his jealousy in check. Inside the booth, you posed happily, but Tamaki's unease was clear in the photos, his smiles strained.

After the photos were printed, you noticed his expression. "Tamaki, are you okay? You look a little... tense," you said, concerned.

He shook his head quickly. "I'm fine, really," he insisted, though his voice lacked conviction.

Later, as you watched a performance together, a particularly bold student approached you. "Hey, you're from the maid café, right? You look amazing in that outfit. Want to join me for a dance?"

Before you could respond, Tamaki stepped forward, his usual shyness momentarily replaced by a surge of protectiveness. "She's with me," he said firmly, his voice stronger than you'd ever heard it.

The student raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, man, no need to get defensive."

You pulled Tamaki aside, your brow furrowed in confusion. "Tamaki, what's going on? You've been acting strange all day.

In a quieter area of the festival, away from the crowds, Tamaki took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I... I'm sorry, Y/N. It's just... seeing all those guys looking at you, complimenting you... I got jealous. I didn't like it."

You blinked, taken aback by his confession. "Jealous? Why would you be jealous?"

Tamaki looked down, his face flushing. "Because... I like you, Y/N. A lot. And I guess I was afraid you might like someone else instead."

Your heart swelled with affection and relief. "Tamaki, I like you too. I didn't realize you felt this way, but you don't have to worry about anyone else. I like you for who you are."

His eyes widened in surprise and hope. "Really?"

You nodded, reaching out to take his hand. "Really. So let's not waste any more time being worried, okay?"

He smiled, a genuine, relieved smile, and squeezed your hand. "Okay."

With their feelings out in the open, you and Tamaki returned to the festival, enjoying the rest of the day together. You introduced him to your classmates at the maid café, who welcomed him warmly. Tamaki, still shy but more at ease, stayed close by your side, his confidence bolstered by your reassurance.

As the festival drew to a close, you found a spot to watch the fireworks display. Hand in hand, you and Tamaki watched the sky light up with brilliant colors, the day's worries melting away. In that moment, surrounded by the glow of the fireworks and the warmth of your newfound understanding, you knew that this was just the beginning of something wonderful.

And as the final burst of light faded into the night sky, Tamaki gently squeezed your hand, a silent promise of the bond you now shared.

[jloves-pp]

Merida and Hiccup's story-chapter 13

Chapter 13-Once and for all

Toothless wandered into the blacksmiths shop and found Hiccup. He had been working since they returned from DunBroch, as usual he concentrating deeply. The dragon watched him until Hiccup accidentally dropped a hot piece of metal. Quickly, Toothless shifted and caught the metal on his head.

Hiccup signed with relief "Hey Bud, it's good thing dragons's scales are heatproof". Using pliers, he picked up the metal and place it back on his workbench. The dragon purred and stopped to listen when he heard footsteps. He turned to see Astrid carrying drinks.

"Hey, do you need these" Astrid said to Hiccup, offering one of the drinks.

"Thanks" Hiccup quickly replied taking it. He gulped the drink down in one, feeling the cool water against his hot throat.

The dragon and the girl glanced worriedly at each other, they both understood each other.

"Hiccup, you would rest. You been working nearly a month" Astrid said, as she tried to see what he was making.

"I know but if I don't keep mind busy, I.." Hiccup replied pausing. He froze as a thought floated into his brain. Toothless could see a dark cloud descend over Hiccup . This been happening more since returning home, he knew it was because Hiccup was worried about his and Merida future. Toothless gently which brought Hiccup back. "I have to be busy or…"

"I know Hiccup but you haven't been sleeping properly and you barely been eating or drinking and it's not just me but everyone is worried about you" Astrid commented trying to look at his eyes but Hiccup had turned toward the table. She noticed tears in his eyes. "I was going to ask you to come flying with us but you needed some time to recover" she advised "go flying, do your drawing, eat until you can't eat no more".

The Viking boy let out a laugh "Thanks, of course I making something of a gift for Merida" he said. Astrid looked at the drawing and items on the table.

"I think she'll love anything you make" Astrid said giving a knowing smile.

"Yeah, as soon as I cool this I'll finish up, I may join you guys around the fire later", Hiccup replied.

"Ok, I take your word on that" Astrid answered giving him a friendly punch on the arm. "See you later", she added before leaving. Hiccup rubbed his arm as his dragon licked his check, which made him grin.

"Thanks for being there for me" he said hugging the dragon's head. As he continued on his project, wondering how his princess was doing.

In DunBroch, was a hive of activity. Highland have started at morning with the other clans, Merida had enjoyed the game this time since no one was going to marry her. Even though she was having fun, Merida was keeping busy, she thought about Hiccup and how he would've enjoyed the festivities.

As she sat at table with her friends for dinner. "Hey Merida" she heard someone asked her. She looked over at young Macintosh then he added "You all right?"

"Yeah, you seem to be in a daze lately" wee Dingwall added before drinking.

"Sorry. I'm not myself these days" Merida answered.

"Are you unwell Merida, have you seen an apothecary?" Asked Penelope, young MacGuffins girlfriend. She was kind and sympathetic girl with short brown hair. Luckily she spoke Gaelic, so she could understand what young MacGuffin said. Merida liked her calm and sweet personality from their first meeting, and seeing them holding hands and sharing kisses, was making her miss her Viking more.

"I'm fine" Merida replied giving a small smile to Penelope.

"Ok" Penelope said before adding "oh I heard you have meet someone".

"Oh aye. He been visiting me every month for a while, but he lives far from here". Merida explained.

"What he's name?" Penelope asked seeing Merida's mood lifted.

"He's name is Hiccup" Merida said, she then heard young Macintosh choking on his drink. She knew he was laughing at his name, she flashed a death stare at him.

"Sorry, I thought we would meet him today" young Macintosh the said.

"He's busy with things back home, maybe next time" Merida said before having a sip of her drink.

"So what's he like?" Penelope continued.

"Hiccup is kind, clever, funny with a dry sense of humour, has crafting skills and a talent with animals" Mer explained with a small smile. She then noticed knowing smiles on the boys and Penelope. "What?"

"Oh nothing, it…you know" Penelope answered a bit of sheepishly but before they heard someone laughing. Merida recognise that laugh instantly as her father's.

"Oh Vikings, those barbarians won't step a foot on this land" it was clear that king had one to many drink as he talked freely. "If they did, then I'll stab them, crush them and tear them in two." The teens suddenly noticed Merida, her head was down hide her anger. The more Furgus talked, the more cross she became "I'll skin them and hang them like scarecrows to warn other Vikings not to dare to tread on our land, especially Stoick the Vast. Hearing this, Merida thought about Hiccup and her friends on Berk. Too many emotions floating through her. "They won't see it coming, those animals would be easy picking it would be a pleasure to slaughter them one by one with my bare hands" Furgus said his men in noisy agreement.

Blinded by rage, Merida got up lifted the table on its side, she screamed as if she was being murded. Soon she came back to her senses and realise what she done. Everyone looked at her in shock and confused. Before anyone could say anything, the princess quickly rushed the room. No one knew what to do but Elinor stood up and calmly went after her. She knew Merida had headed to her room.

"Merida, are you alright?" The queen asked, there was no answer, Elinor opened the door she was shocked, normally she would find her daughter letting out her emotions by attacking her bed post with her sword but now Merida burning her face in her blanket on her bed, wailing. "Oh Merida" Elinor said softly. She definitely knew something was wrong, Elinor gently pulled Merida up and held her close "oh shh, I am here" she hugged her daughter as Merida continued cry, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. Elinor held Merida's hand as she waited for the princess to calm down. It was comforting for the princess, she remained her of when she was a child and when she was scared. When Merida calm down, wiping her tears. Elinor asked "Are you alright? What happened?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what came over me" she explained trying to think cleary.

"Merida, I need to ask. Is it something to do with Hiccup" the queen softly.

"NO" she shouted but then added more calmly "yes….I don't know"

"Sweetheart, I can see that you and Hiccup have spark between you too and I know you have strong feelings for the boy" Elinor gently stated. Merida wanted to deny it but she couldn't.

"I….Love him"

Her voice come out weak and shaky. She wasn't used to saying that but she knew that she couldn't hold it any more. She wasn't sure what her mother would say but to her surprise, Elinor hugged her.

"Oh love, it's ok"

"Mum?" The princess asked in confusion.

"I knew, the way the two look at each other is plain to see. You light up even when you say he's name. You light up when he around, I'm happy for my daughter to have someone at your side" Elinor explained proudly.

Merida didn't reply, instead she gave her mum a bear hug. She was glad to hear that from her mum but she had a twinge of guilt.

"But tell me, did you and Hiccup have a fight" Elinor then asked looking at her daughter.

"No, I mean we have been questioning our relationship" Merida said, rubbing her arm.

"Like what

"Well.." Merida wasn't sure how to explain it, mostly the Viking part. She thought for a moment before saying "I'm scared, it's feeling like a wall between us and we can't think of a single way to break it down. I also scared of losing him, he means the world to me. I wish things were different, I wish….he live closer to me"

The queen could plainly see the sadness and pain Merida was feeling. Elinor then took her sleeve and wiped Merida tears away.

"Here, here. Being far away from the one you love is difficult, I worry about your father every time he gone to battle" she said then asked "have you two talked about this",

"Well…maybe" Merida answered . Yes, they did talk about the problem, but not in the way Elinor thought.

"Maybe you should write to him. Tell him how you feel, talk about your fears and worries. It's better to have this conversation for both your sakes", the queen said. Merida pondered for a moment. She rather wanted to talk about it face to face but it was tearing her to pieces and she didn't want to embarrass herself again, she nodded to her mum before Elinor hugged her again. "Right I'll tell everyone your a bit under the weather and you need sleep, I'll make sure nobody will disturb you" Elinor stood up and helped Merida up "I'll being a drink for you, would you like anything to eat?"

"No, don't have an appetite", Merida replied.

"Ok, get comfortable, I won't be long" Elinor asked and kiss her daughter forehead. After Elinor left, Merida changed into a nightgown and wrapped a tartan shawl around her shoulders and hugged to the shawl to herself. She then looked over to the box that held Hiccup's letters, pondering over her mum's advice. She decided to write a letter. The redhead sat at the window and with a quill and paper. She began to write.

My dearest Hiccup,

I know we talked about our relationship but we need to talk again. I heard people saying rude things about Vikings and all I can think about was you. I lost my temper, tipped over a table and ran out. I know if you and my family knew the truth. Things will get worse, I wish that I wasn't a princess of Scotland and you weren't a Viking. We wouldn't be afraid to be together. I imagine us living in a cottage in the woods, where we make our home and a family. I imagine the happiness and laughter from our children. We could explore the world and no one prejudice would stand in our way.

It's strange now, dreaming of my freedom, doing everything I want but now, I want to share all of this with you. I hope we can find an answer to our problem so we can start our lives together and even if they try to separate us I will never stop loving you for the rest of my life. I know that sounds cliche, but it is true.

I hope you get this letter soon and we can talk this through when I see you again _

I love you_

Merida _

When she finished, Merida place it in an envelope and stamped it shut. She climbed into bed as Elinor returned with a cup of water. The queen gave the drink to her daughter, she noticed the letter on the bed and asked if it " was ok for her to send it off tomorrow". Merida said " Yes", Elinor kissed her goodbye and leave to place the letter with other mail for the next day.

The letter arrived in Berk soon after. The Terrible Terror put it among the other letters. The Viking in charge of sorting out letters, Boothead, was sorting them out, Stoick came in.

"Morning Boothead" he greeted.

"Oh Stoick, surprise to see you" Boothead replied as he turned to the chief.

"Surprised" Stoick asked.

"Yeah, usually Hiccup is down here first thing in the morning. He would ask if there was any letter arrived for him", Boothead explained. Looking toward the letter. "But he has been missing recently"

"Aye, he has been busy recently. Working on something that keeps him up all night, I'm a bit worried about him" Stoick as he scratched his head thoughtfully, Boothead found the right letter.

"Well here's his letter. Give it to him when he wakes up" Boothead said passing the letter on.

"Alright" the chief answered and left. He walked toward his house, he saw his son earlier that morning still asleep. Knowing how tired Hiccup has been lately, he left his son sleep in a little. He then noticed the seal on the letter, it looked familiar. Without thinking he opened it and began to read but the more he read the angry he became.

"So bud, where would we go today?" Hiccup asked Toothless who simply shrugged. "Yeah maybe we'll let the wind take us", Hiccup had just finished his breakfast, he place his bowl and spoon in the sink. Just as the duo turned to the door when Stoick burst in through the door. "Dad?" Hiccup murmured, seeing the anger in his father's face. The giant man marched right up to Hiccup who backed into the table.

"YOU BEEN AMONG THE SCOTS, THE PRINCESS NO LESS" Stoick roared shaking to letter in front of Hiccup before throwing it to the floor. "You lied to me " ,the night fury tried to step in but… "don't you dare" he warned. Toothless know this was personal, but he wasn't going to abandoned his friend.

"Dad, please. It just happened", Hiccup tried to reason.

"Did she bewitched you?" Stoick blustered on standing towering over him.

Hiccup wasn't sure what to do but he wouldn't going to back down "No, no she isn't like that. She's fearless and strong and care for her family…"

"They are nothing like us, they would kill without second thought" Stoick interrupted talking over his son, he wasn't listening to his son he was furious.

"No, dad if you could just meet them, then you'll see we the same" Hiccup tried to reason.

"NO! I should have done this years ago. To put an end to it" stoick raged. It was then dawned on hiccup, Stoick was heading go to Scotland and kill everyone. The boy shook his head as his father headed to the door. Hiccup wasn't to let that happen.

"IF YOU GO AND KILL THEM, I, I NEVER FORGIVE YOU" Hiccup shouted with all of his courage. This makes Stoick pause, he never heard Hiccup raise his voice, to anyone. Hiccup waited hoping his dad would calm down and listen but blinded by rage, Stoick walked out and banged the door shut.

Hiccup dropped to his knees, not wanting to believe what was happening. He picked up the letter and read it, tears welled in his eyes, this was too much! He was feeling differing emotions-rage because of his father's response to the letter, guilt for not keeping their secret better hidden and sadness of the thought of losing Merida. Toothless the dragon wrapped a wing around his friend, Waiting for him to calm down. Soon Hiccup felt better and wipe his eyes and nose. Hiccup then turned to Toothless.

"Come on bud, we need to get the others".

Astrid tapped her foot. She and the other teens and dragons were waiting at one of the highest point of Berk, it has become normal for hiccup and toothless to be late. But she soon noticed Hiccup and Toothless running toward them.

"About time you two ", Astrid said but then she noticed the worry on their faces.

"My dad found out, he heading to DunBroch to attack them", Hiccup explained. Before the teens had time to react, they heard the sound of a horn ringing in their ears. They looked down to the dock as ships were setting off. "We got to warn them" Hiccup said and quickly jumped onto Toothless.

"To Scotland?" Fishlegs then said.

"Are you crazy? Is easy for you go there but what about us", Snoutlot stated as fishlegs, and the twins hopped on their dragons.

"Do you have any better ideas?" Hiccup replied clearly frustrated.

"Let's just get there then we'll see, come on" Astrid said and they all took to the sky. They flew above the clouds so the adults wouldn't spot them, Hiccup hoped they would make good time and beat Stoick. The dragon flew as fast as possible, even when they felt tired and hungry, they pushed themselves. Hiccup saw the sun rising though sleepy eyes, seeing it was next day. He then saw a foggy outline of a familiar land.

"Guys, look. We're here" Hiccup cried making the other riders woke up, growling. They soon were wide awake and they had reached the highlands.

"It's beautiful" Astrid commented as Hiccup led them to DunBroch Castle. Soon they could see the kingdom and also could see the Highland Games on the field. "We need to land somewhere away from the Scots" Astrid said looking around But Hiccup feared that his dad and the other Vikings could turn up at any moment.

"There's no time. We need to just land" He answered. He knew it was going be bad but they needed to find Merida and warn her. Hiccup and Toothless dived down along with the others.

From below, the Scottish clans were enjoying the games until they noticed huge shadows across the ground. They looked up to see creatures they had never seen but they knew what they were.

"DRAGONS" everyone ran like headless chickens. Mothers and fathers quickly grabbed their children just as the dragons landed. The rides heard screaming and people running for their lives.

"What is wrong with these people" Tuffnut said confused.

"Yeah, have they never seen a dragon before" added Ruffnut watching the people around them in disbelief.

Ignoring the chaos, Hiccup jumped off his dragon and turned to the others " Come on the castle is this way". Hiccup, Toothless and the teens ran towards the castle to find Merida, the other dragons stayed and looking around curiously. Stormfly found a tent that was serving cooked chicken and she helped herself, while the people escaped the deadly nadder. Barf and belch had rip a tent down and play tug-a-war while women screamed at the two headed dragon. Hoodfang was sniffing at another tent. The monstrous nightmare's nose went under it, causing a crowd of men to escape as Hoodfang crawled into the tent and Meatlug was enjoying munching coal, rocks and even iron balls.

Meanwhile Merida had been looking towards the window in her room, wanting some alone time when she noticed people shouting and when she looked out she could see the people running in fear. Concerned, the redhead left immediately to investigate.

"What's going on?" Merida asked one of the maids she met in a hallway.

"Dragons, there's dragons attacking the kingdom", the maid explained still panicking.

"Seriously " Merida said to herself, she turned back to the maid "bring as many people as you can to the kitchen until the coast is clear. The young maid nodded and headed to the kitchen. Merida quickly ran, she didn't know why dragons suddenly appeared but she knew she was the only one here to stop them. As Merida ran she turned a corner, she bump into something and fell "Ow", she groaned, rubbing her head.

"Merida", heard a familiar voice, Merida glanced around to see Hiccup who also fallen, he was rubbing his head.

"Hiccup" Merida cried happily, they hugged each other as Toothless and the teens join them.

"Why are you guys here?" Merida asked as the couple parted.

"Just in the neighbourhood" Astrid joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Well thank the gods you here" Merida said "There are dragons in DunBroch".

"Yeah that was us, sorry", Hiccup admitted.

"What?", Merida asked bewildered.

"Never mind that. Mer. He knows my dad found out about us and headed here to destroy the kingdom, once and for all", Hiccup explained holding Merida's hand. The princess eyes fill with fear. Hiccup didn't needed to say more, she knew what's happened.

"This is my fault", Merida whispered, feeling tears run down her face.

"No, no Mer. You didn't know that my dad would read your letter, we have to fix it somehow", Hiccup reassuring her, wipeing her tears away.

"And we're here too Mer, you can count on us" Astrid then said showing a confident smile. Toothless purred in agreement and the other grin to her and showed thumbs up. Merida showed them a grateful smile.

"Thanks, right! we need to find my parents", Merida said. They quickly searched and soon found Elinor and Furgus in the main hall, trying to get information from the guards. "Mum, Dad", Merida called out. Hiccup silently told Toothless to stay hidden ,not wanted to cause any more trouble.

"Merida?" Elinor asked then she noticed the others behind her"Hiccup? What are you doing here", they were shocked to see him.

"Nothing mind that", Furgus interupted. There's fire- breathing Dragons out there. Probably everything is on fire by now".

"Don't think that's possible" Fishlegs murmured then hid his helmet and quickly signalled for ruff, tuff and Snoutlot to do the same.

"I'm here to warn you" Hiccup insisted. Making the Royal couple turn to him.

"About what Hiccup", Elinor asked.

Hiccup took a deep breath before saying "Stoick the vast is coming".

"WHAT!" Elinor and Furgus cried and the soldiers and staff were left in silence. The triplets were listening from the balcony.

"Is this true", asked hoping it wasn't true.

"Aye mum" Merida said.

The king turned to the guards. 'Tell the others that the Vikings are coming. Get the lords to plan to and guard our defences", Furgus ordered, the soldiers quickly scattered.

"Wait please, you can't run head first into this" Hiccup protested.

"He right, we need to think another way" Merida added. Both thinking about the outcome.

"Those monsters won't understand anything but this", Furgus said showing them his sword. The teens felt a shiver down their spines afraid of what this king would do.

"Furgus please", Elinor tried to calm him down, seeing rage in his eyes.

"I won't stop till every single one is slaughtered" Furgus declared not hearing what his wife said.

"But your majesty" Astrid interrupted bravely stepped forward. "You don't understand. Hiccup's dad won't stop as well, he…" She stopped, realised what she done.

The King's eyes widened at this. He looked closely at the teen's clothes then at Hiccup. He didn't realise that this boy looked similar to his enemy.

"You liar, you trickster", the Bear king roared and rushed at Hiccup. The boy ran as Merida grabbed her father's arm.

"No, don't hurt him", Merida shouted. She tried to pull him but he was too strong and he flung Merida off to the side. Unknowingly He swung his sword at Merida, Merida wasn't hurt but it caught Merida's pendant and it was sent flying into the fireplace.

"You knew, you knew all this time", Furgus yelled at his daughter. The viking girls helped Merida up. Furgus roared out a warrior cry he was getting to attack. Hiccup shut his eyes but instead of a blow from Furgus he felt a rush of wind and a familiar roar.

"Toothless" Hiccup exclaimed seeing his dragon protecting him. The night fury had knocked Furgus away and stood in front of Hiccup.

The queen, gasped and the triplets stared in disbelief at Toothless, both in fear and amazement. Maudie was standing with the other maids and when she saw a dragon eating the fish, she collapsed in a heap, the others maids rushed to her assistance. The king managed to stand up. Still looking at Hiccup and Toothless. Too much had happened all at once, he couldn't believe Hiccup was a Viking but also his daughter had known and she had kept it a secret.

The king shook his head before saying "Take him and his friends to the dungeon, we'll deal with them when those barbarians are destroyed, and you" he turned to Merida "locked her in her room and make sure she doesn't escape. At once, soldiers grabbed the teens and Merida. Some of them managed to drag the Night Fury away.

"Toothless, don't hurt him please", Hiccup begged, even though he was being pulled by two men.

"No. Listen, we want stop this war please", Merida pleaded but it fall on deaf ears. She was pulled away as her friends were taking to the dungeon, her heart breaking seeing her love treated like a prisoner "Hiccup" she called weakly to him.

"Mer, it's ok. We'll be ok",Hiccup reassured her even know he wasn't sure himself.

Elinor watched everything and couldn't process it. She never thought the boy was the son of Stoick.

"Gather the rest of the soldiers and meet in the planning room", Furgus shouted as he walked out. Clearly focus on his goal, his wife looked at him in concerned. The last time she saw him so serious was with Mor'dun. Elinor started thinking over everything that happened. She would had been upset but she understood why Merida and Hiccup had kept a secret. Elinor also knew that their feelings for each other were real. The queen looked at the pendant burning to ashes, she was now conflicted on what to do. To let history repeat or for things to change.

[zaiban2989]

BNHA S2 Ep12 - Todo/Baku Pre fight? & Fight

Yeah I know I already made a post somewhere about TodoBaku Sports Festival Final Fight but I am back to it because this ep is just so fucking good.... for bkdk! lol

I'm actually gonna watch bit by bit and comment along because there are some gems in different scenes of this episode.

Let's begin!

First of, Katsuki is such a fucking PUNK for real lmao the way he fucking kicks the door of the waiting room open?! 🤣 That idiot is acting like a fucking gremlin without even knowing there's someone in the room, i.e. he seriously doesn't give a shit about manners at all in all aspects of his life lol (also that "Huh?" and dumbfounded face he has when he realises he's in the wrong room? Fucking priceless lol)

THEN, Todo gets out of his stupor when Kats asks him (more like blasts him) "Where the heck you're looking?" and Todo goes on a ramble about how Deku said the same thing, acted recklessly to blow away his personal issues and shit, and of course, he ends with "You guys were childhood friends, right? Was he like that too when you were young?" and what do we see? Katsuki's fucking twitching from being asked that and before he can even really 'think', his subconscious provides him with flashbacks of Deku saving him during the Sludge Villain accident and the damn river childhood memory (lmao I think the next time I'll binge watch bnha, I'll be counting how many fucking times Kats has been thinking of that particular scene man). THIS IS BIG PEOPLE. Kats has "that damn nerd"'s face in his mind so fucking much (lol) and by being shown those flashbacks, it's clear that we're supposed to understand something else than "I just fucking hate this guy so much". Hori and Bones are showing us those memories over and over again throughout the series, and yeah at this particular moment when Todo asks about Deku, Kats thinks of Deku saving and helping him and he clenches his fists, pissed by it because at this stage of the story, he's still not 'understanding' what "Save to Win" means (to put it plainly, he knows something seriously ticks him off when he thinks of Deku and how he never hesitates to come and help/save people even while being a useless quirkless nerd, but he's so stuck to being angry about it, he's refusing to take a minute and truly think of what other feelings are lying underneath that anger... I guess that's why I found his character development so beautiful 🧡)

(his upset face is just the best dkqmdqmd)

Anyway I digress lol

Back to the Todo/Baku scene, Kats blows up his fuse saying "Who the hell cares about that damn nerd" and then orders Todo to use his flames on him before storming out of the room and walking to the stage with anger written all over his face.

Like I know people would take what he's saying literally: "I'll win indisputably and be at the top!"... But honestly? After what just happened? the conversation between him and Todo and Kats having flashbacks of Deku, it's rather clear that all is thinking about is more along the lines of "I'll beat the Half & Half Bastard in the same type of fight he had against Deku and win and I'll be above Deku because of it!". Todoroki here is literally just a roundabout way for Katsuki to feel (finally) superior to Deku again (the nerd beat him twice already lol). That's also why he's so pissed at the way he won the tournament.

*taking a huge breath because of the next scene*

I'm not gonna talk too much about it cuz I already made a post for it (will link it later if I find it lol) but yeah. Just reached the actual battle on stage. First of, Sero's comment about Kats coming out of the ice like a mole is so fucking hilarious, can someone please draw a mole!Kacchan deojzfremfe

More seriously, time for some appreciation for Kat's fucking fighting skills man (pic below), I mean... the fucking mobility, reflexes and smartness he has when it comes to combat are so fucking amazing!! That precise explosion to propel himself to Todo's left and avoid the ice attack while still being in the air? Like damn, my boy, you're hot!

Aaand we get back to his inferiority complex in full bloom when Todo grabs him to block his attack but instead of using his flames, simply throws him away. (Endeavor should have shut his goddamn mouth I swear lol)

You know what comes next, right?... His full anger is back and of course, he's got to mention Deku again djsmekdldle "There's no point if I can't get higher up than Deku" ARE YOU SERIOUS LOL

This is literally screaming Katsuki's fucking obsession with Izuku, again lol the only thing I find missing here? The fact that based on Deku's face, he's probably heard this, yet we don't hear his thoughts at the moment nor later during the series (well up until Deku vs Kacchan part 2, a little). It's a real shame.

And we finish off with Deku shouting at Todo "Don't give up, do your best!" which triggers Todo to actually get his shit together for six seconds (lol) and what do we see? Kats running to the dude but with enough time to spare a quick glance at his nerd lmao I can't man, somebody kill me already please 🤣😭💚🧡

He's actually fucking happy! lol Why? pure conjecture but I think it's because he knows that Deku's words will have some sort of impact on Todo and lead him to push himself to have a proper fight too. (That or he's just happy to hear his baby shouting? lol ok ok I'm shutting up)

And yeah, first time launching his Howitzer Impact, he doesn't have the time to notice that Todo pulled his flames back and he's stunned when he realises that it didn't happen (before getting pissed and put to sleep by Midnight)

Honestly, I've been listening to Kats' voice when he's holding the passed-out Todo by the shirt and shouting things, and that dude really gets emotional and on the verge of crying when he's frustrated man it's something else. I mean that happen in s1 when he lost to Deku (Bakugo Katsuki's Starting Line ep) and he's actually crying in frustration. It's just the same here.

Look at his face, my god...

I'm sure if Midnight didn't actually put him to sleep, it would have happened. (There's so much emotion in his voice omg I wanna hug that baby)

Last pic I'm putting cuz fuck me that guy is beautiful lol 😭🧡

Anyways, like I said... lots of bkdk gems in that episode alone. Can't wait to get to the other episodes lol

Thanks if you've read the whole thing!

[seagoatapothecary]

Althea’s Tale

An Excerpt from “Chapter One - Summer Awakening”

5th day of Croon - Year 181 of New Tala

Fishing Full Moon

Tomorrow I am 13. To celebrate Mama got me this bound blank set of leaf paper to write on. My brother Lars got one for his 13th year as well, but all he does is draw crude images in his. And my sister Deb is too young still, her 13th year isn’t for another 4 more years. It’s tradition in our family to have a ceremony called an Awakening the night before you turn 13, but I’m not sure why our family still does it. Both Mama and Daddy says at one point a long time ago families all throughout Manipor practiced an old tradition called Manpora but that was before New Tala when all of the Domains came together. No one does that anymore except our family, at least in our village of Sommentown. We get made looked at funny for holding to old traditions and not being like everyone else. According to Mama the people of Manipor, when it was its own Domain, would receive spiritual blessings on the night of their Awakening after giving a gift of themselves to Tala, the earth, by burying it in the ground under a sacred tree. It sounds a little much to me, but I understand why Mama holds to it since her family is one of the old clans of Manipor. When I asked what her blessing was after her Awakening she smiled and said, “a blue bird”. I have no idea what she means by that. I think Lars’ blessing was just becoming more of an idiot. I’m wearing a red dress with a crown made of flowers that Mama made for me, no slippers so I can feel the summer grass between my toes like one of those fancy furry carpets that the merchants sell during festivals in town. The dress is probably the nicest I’ve ever worn and Mama bought special cloth from a textile merchant during the Midsummer Festival. I’m not sure what else to write about in here and it’s about time for my family and I to walk to the woods behind the house for my ceremony. I will write later I guess.

6th day of Croon

It’s the next day. I’m 13. I woke up this morning thinking that something would happen to me overnight, but nothing seems different. Daddy told me think of it as a metaphorical awakening and that it’s symbolic of me getting older. I guess. Being older here just means more chores at the house. Speaking of I have to go get ready for breakfast because it’s my turn to cook. Happy 13th year to me. Bye.

12th day of Croon - Year 181 of N.T.

Last Half Moon

It’s been 7 days since my Awakening, almost a full week. And it’s been bad. Lars has been sick and Deb whiny and won’t help out to make up for Lars being sick. Daddy hurt himself trying to load goods to sell in town by himself and now Mama and I are pulling all the extra work. We had to take the cart to town ourselves yesterday and unload everything while Old Man Grune watched us and made inappropriate comments about Mama’s “shape” and about how us manporas would get him in trouble with his wife. That’s what the people in town call us because we still follow old traditions. I think it used to be really bad to call someone that because that’s when Mama told him to shush. I told Mama after we left I hope his store shelves get covered in stinkweed and then it smells like rotted flesh. We must not be very good manporas though if no blessings come across our family. Maybe I gave a bad gift. Mama told me to give something meaningful for me. I chose one of the sunflowers I grew over summer because it took a lot of work. Now it seems silly to give something back to Tala that grew out of it to begin with. I hope Lars gets better and Daddy’s injury heals quickly. Harvest is approaching and Mama and I can’t do it all, and Deb is no help.

16th day of Croon

Deb is now sick. Somehow it’s worse than Lars because someone has to be with her at all times. Lars is better and Daddy is healing but Mama’s salves are only doing so much. They don’t know but I heard them talking about how he’s still having trouble putting weight on it even though the wound was healing. Mama had gone in to town yesterday to request the physician come look at him but when she came back they were not with her and she seemed upset when talking with Daddy. “Lars, they don’t respect us, they can’t treat you like this when we provide so much for them” I heard her say to him. Lars is Daddy’s name too just like my brother’s. I think Mama means that the people in town don’t like us because we are manporas. It’s wrong for them to be so mean, I don’t even know why practicing these traditions is so bad except that the rulers of New Tala say it is. I wonder how the physician would feel if all of a sudden he needed one of Mama’s tinctures or Daddy’s leather wares and we told him no. Hopefully Daddy can get better without the physicians help though.

32nd day of Croon, 181 year of N.T. First Crescent Moon

It’s hot. Mama and Daddy are worried because it hasn’t rained, and Daddy can’t walk right. His wound is closed but he makes a big face when he tries walking and I hear him curse and swear out back when he thinks we can’t hear him. Lars and I help out a lot right now, and even Deb helps Mama some in the house since Mama has to help Daddy sometimes too. I heard that Old Man Grune’s got stinkweed growing on his porch steps and it seems he can’t get it to go away. The best news I’ve had since my Awakening.

8th day of Sol, 181 year of N.T.

Something strange happened. But I’m not sure what it was. I think No. It was just a coincidence. We’re all just stressed because of Daddy and the Harvest Moon Festival coming up.

17th day of Sol

Daddy is still on a crutch and says he’s getting better, “just old bones healing slowly” he says. The Harvest Festival is in 5 days and Daddy says we will all, Deb included, have to be helping prepare this week. Mama and I are going ahead the day before with Deb to start setting up the market stall and our smaller wares and items while Daddy and Lars will head out the morning of, leaving early with the leather goods and larger items such as crafted furniture and tools. Usually we all go together but with Daddy not moving well we have to set up the stall ourselves and this gives Mama and I time to set up without any pressure from lookers’ on. Daddy may think he’s healing okay but he’s still worried about people in town seeing him moving slow so he thinks this way will keep them from suspecting too much. “An injured man cannot provide quality work, and cannot provide for his family.” I prayed last night to the Goddess that everything will be okay. The Awakening may not have done anything for me but maybe prayer will.

21st day of Sol, 181 year of N.T. Harvest Full Moon

Mama, Deb and I are all packed up and fixing to leave for town. We get to stay at an inn! We’ve never not stayed at our own place, and I know it’s just in town which isn’t anywhere new but it feels exciting. The inn in town is not much, but it’s nice enough and large enough to house traveling merchants every festival season along with any business and people that follow. While Mama says she’s glad I’m writing in here, I’m not allowed to bring it with me in case it gets lost or left behind. “You should never leave your thoughts lying around for other’s to find, they are yours to keep and treasure.” I understand this but hope I can remember everything that happens and write it all down I love the town festivals and getting to meet all the strange people from strange lands. Although this year I’ll be more tied down at our market stall since Daddy won’t be able to unload and stand around much to sell wares. Anyways, we are about to leave so we can get to town before the sun fully sets. I can’t wait to write about the Festival when we return!

Althea

[whatstheoccasion]

— THE MOON IS BEAUTIFUL, ISN'T IT?

"More. I want us to be more. Do you understand?"

There. He said it. He slowly sits to his full height, ears burning red and a permanent scowl refusing to leave his face–

And he sighs exasperatedly at the confusion in your face. "You don't get it?"

> Law finally confesses– except, it's not that easy.

warnings: explicit mentions of death, grief and depression. major spoilers for dressrosa and law’s past. +16 for one (1) suggestive line. tags: no pronouns are used except for a stranger calling the reader 'lady' once. fluff. jealous law. can legally count as angst with a happy ending or slow-burn. mushy feelings. title from that old japanese saying.

word count: 5,2k.

playlist: above the clouds – cyndi lauper ft. jeff beck, iris – goo goo dolls, love you 'till the end – the pogue

You squeeze him closer to you, making Law grumble quietly like a cat, mostly out of habit. The sound of the falling autumn leaves and the smooth rising of your chest against his back could easily lull him to a peaceful sleep.

Peace. It’s been a while since the feeling last visited him.

"I'm happy that I met you, Law."

Law cringes, biting his tongue to keep himself from arguing with you.

He finds it very hard to believe he could bring anyone happiness, not when he himself hasn't felt anything but hate for a long, long time. Happiness felt too pure, innocent for a man like him.

But you told him, once, that he needed to start believing in you more.

Trust. That’s the word you used.

He doesn't know what to do with someone so happy to be near him, but it wasn’t a bad feeling at all, if the warmth that now spread across his chest was anything to go by.

"Let's go back to town," he says, letting himself sink in the warmth of your body for just a second longer before he gets up, pulling you up to your feet with him. "It's the final day of the festival."

The band you told me you liked is leaving town tonight, and you wanted to listen to them, he doesn't say. He doesn’t need to.

Making sure you were happy enough not to leave his side was something Law easily can get behind, especially when you beam up to him like this, sweet and excited, taking his hand to lead him straight into the commotion in town.

He would rather have all the cells in his body shrivel up and die before admitting it, though.

                                       ☽

Law is eight when he first goes on a school trip.

It wasn't a big deal. A simple walk to the nearest natural escapade, in this case, a winter forest.

Law counted in his head up to 120 until he got bored and distracted on the way there, one of his friends deciding to show him a bad drawing of a crooked, three legged cat. It somehow looked more like a penguin. Law didn't comment on it, instead asking his friend to draw something else, something fierce.

He got the drawing of a very debatable polar bear two minutes later. Law only stared at it. Then told his friend it was ugly, because it was, but all he got was a hearty laugh in response. "If it's so ugly why do you look like you want to keep it? Huh, Law?"

Maybe if he told him the drawing was bad enough, he could get it to himself. That's how asking for something worked, right?

It wasn't much later into his quarrel when Sister stopped, telling the class they arrived. He looks up to see the tiny forest with distrust.

But surprisingly, Law did have fun. He was always physically weaker than the rest of them, and more secluded, but that didn’t stop his friends from hanging out around him. Because they waited for him with easy steps, and laughed when he fell. The girls all have mixed feelings about him ("he's so scary," they whisper to each other, "yeah, but that's what makes him cool!"). But it's okay, because they never exclude him, and he feels just fine.

Maybe he could tell his parents about this place where he felt free. Lami would like the falling snow and crystalized flowers, and his parents could finally be as free as he felt. Law gets a nice memory added up to the bunch, coming home with scraped knees and a sheet of paper holding the face of a strange bear stuffed in his blazer's pocket.

Law saw the same kids screaming for their life two years later, crying for help in the middle of a city filled with Marines.

He couldn't turn a blind eye to his ruined city. As much as he wanted to, as bad as his eyes stinged with fear and worry for himself, he needed to keep them wide open to look at where he's headed to. So he sucks it up, and looks.

His friend was holding the now bloodied sketchbook with a tight grip, standing with as much fight in him as a 10 year old could possibly have.

He can still hear the Marine's clean shot to his head.

A few bodies behind him, Sister's dull eyes stared right into his soul.

Law runs, stumbling over unmoving bodies, eyes open and lifeless, but he can't stay long enough to think about it. Or his parents. Or Lami– he only avoids stepping on corpses and keeps running.

It marks the start.

                                       ☽

  “You asked me about the name on my coat.” Law's voice fades off, and his eyes fall down to the delicate hand taking hold of the sand beneath him. “Still want to know?”

Your hand stops.

He fights the urge to take his words back. The sudden rush of adrenaline is begging him to drop everything and walk far, far away from you. He shouldn’t have said that. He should never see you and your cursed ability to make him voluntarily open up to you ever again, he needs to leave and never look back.

The thought doesn’t last long, though.

You take a second to answer him, but your eyes are gentle when you look up, if not a little surprised. “Of course I do.”

The beach is calm otherwise. Way past midnight, the crew is soundly asleep many feet behind you both. This whole island is filled with fisherman and kind locals, and this deep into the night, it's very quiet. Tranquil.

He resents it.

There was nothing to keep him distracted, no one to burst into your conversation interrupting like the dramatic movies Shachi and Penguin watched way too loudly with their stolen, fancy den-den-mushi. The sand is steady beneath his feet, exceptionally so for the Grand Line.

So with the sound of soft waves easying his mind, Law sits down, and talks.

There isn’t much to say, really. Sure, at times his voice gets rough and tight around the edges, and his throat is constantly closing down in distress, making the brief story that much harder to tell. But it was okay. Law only takes a second to breathe, to engrave the feeling of your hand tightening around his (when did you come closer, actually?), and continues.

Grief grips him tightly, and he feels sharp claws of regret over his past decisions scratching inside his chest, shoulders and neck, clouding his mind with red, angry thoughts. Unforgiving.

He can’t close his eyes, knowing what awaits him if he dares to do so.

Even now, as he talks, he can see it in a point above the water. The face of a marine walking into a lost child in the raging snow, something he can’t recognize stuck to his face. The same marine carries the child, taking him to his demise with steps certain, firm. Then, the demise itself. The screams, what he thought were his last breaths, the frustration for being so weak and little.

The last smile of a man he loved like his own father.

He’s not ready to tell you just why he was so weak. Why was he too small, easily sickened at age 13. Alone. Not now, anyways. He's already risking a nightmare tonight, by bringing back all these memories to surface.

You’re both sitting up now. The familiar smell of your shampoo flutters with the late night breeze straight to him, bringing Law a sense of comfort– safety, even, and he finds himself welcoming the feeling.

Talking about his past feels less like a weight lifted from his shoulders, and more like yanked off his entire body.

You answer him in quiet hmms, in gasps and involuntarily squeezes of your hand on top of his. Mellow rays of sunlight start to bright his mind slowly, steadily once he finally closes his eyes, and it’s replacing the intimate black fog he was so used to. He’s not quite sure if the light comes from you, or the sunrise.

He had told the story twice before. Once, to his three closest friends (family, now, really). And then the Strawhat kid, keeping the details out. It never quite felt like this, though.

He can only wish to never tell it again.

Silence fills the space between you both once it’s all said and done, and you're still taking his story in, squeezing his hand to your chest. Law doesn't mention the hot tears that fall onto his inked knuckles, his gaze focused on the white polka-dotted hat sitting innocently beside him.

He lets out a tired, long sigh. It almost feels like an out of body experience, having so many feelings yet not a certain way to deliver them, to talk about them. Letting them all out at once, because he doesn’t know how to do this in a different way. His explanation was no short of messy, for sure.

But you seem to get it, and you're holding him so strongly against your body like he'll break apart if you don't, and you're grounding him.

Wherever you touched him, it was a shot of motivation right to his defeated veins. To keep going. To find out why he was brought up in this screwed world. The weight of his name felt lighter where your encouragement touched it.

“There's no despair in this world, Law-kun. Someone will definitely lend you a helping hand.”

“Don’t ever attach a reason to the love you’ve received!”

More than hope, Law had faith. In you, there lived his faith.

                                        ☽

    But he also knows not to forget his past, darker days with you. He still has to amend. He knows this a little too well.

He remembers yelling and pushing you away, stabbing words into your brain to the point of tears. He remembers thinking "I wish we never met", because everyone he loves dies and never comes back and Law can't go through that again. Not without it changing him for worse. He just can't. And the words die in his mouth before he gets to say them.

Until he does.

He says them, because there’s nothing else he can think of to make you go away, to leave him alone. And when his truthful thoughts and rude comments don’t deter you, he uses spiteful remarks and lies, as many lies as barriers he has around his guarded heart.

"I don't want you in my life. What I want is for you to drop it and leave me alone."

"If you can't be by yourself, fine. Go look for someone who cares."

The thought of Cora-san, of his parents looking down on him with disappointment weren't enough to keep his trap shut.

All he gets in return from you are stubborn glares. For every twisted truth he says, you stand strong, relentless in your way to his heart.

Iron fists are now framing your once gentle hands, thick-skinned and headstrong.

Law loathes it. He’s scared and spiteful, and he hates feeling like this. It shows through cruel lashes out and cold stares, and yet. Yet, you don’t give the fuck up.

You keep breaking down each and every one of his walls, leaving you both exhausted and naked, so vulnerable by the end of it. Your voice is laced with hurt and frustration when you call him out. “You think I'll buy that, Law? You think that you trying so hard to shut me out means that you don't care?"

Then, after a painful beat. "You’re trying damn hard to protect yourself, but what about me?”

You’ve left him bare, and there’s nowhere else to run. So Law chooses to ignore you as his trump card.

(In reality, it feels more like a desperate, ultimate resort. Like a kick without force. The final push before he can’t fight anymore.)

And it doesn’t work, because of course it doesn’t, and he runs out of excuses. Of plans. You won’t leave, Law's exhausted, and he doesn’t know if he feels more fondness or frustration over that fact.

He has no more cards under his sleeve, but even if he did, by now he’s sure you would have teared each one apart. Right in front of his face, too.

It's not a big fight what finally lets you in his life. He has already said everything he needed to say, and a little more. It's more like the calm after the storm.

So when the doctor’s too tired to resist his growing longing, when his words hurt him more than it does you, he relents. White flag waving shamefully. If anyone asks him, he was simply too busy as a doctor and Captain to keep "wasting his time" coming up with silly ideas to push you away.

It's here when “I wish we never met” turns into “Where the hell have you been all this time?”

                                                                                                  ☽

Law thrives taking beating hearts out of pirate's chests, that's a truth if he ever told one. He likes gruesome medicine cases, he smiles big while knifing some poor bastard up, and you know all of this. Still, your touch is gentle when you take his hand. Your face feels soft when you sleep on him, trusting the Surgeon of Death to keep you safe.

 He doesn’t give up the cruel, sadistic part of himself. He doesn’t feel the need to, not when you accept him, a vicious, dangerous pirate part of the Worst Generation, for who he really is. He's purposely shown you his worst, still, you embrace him fully, intimately.

Your acceptance leads him to think of clumsy legs and broken smiles, sometimes. It also reminds Law of two hands much bigger than his own on his frail shoulders, smiling proudly down at him. Then, a tinier hand, gripping excitingly onto his shirt and following him around with an innocent smile. If he looks deep enough, he can see the drawing of a three legged cat, then a bear.

The fight inside you, though, brings other memories to surface; hopping from hospital to hospital on top of a strong back, a back so heavy with the weight of the world on its shoulders. The weight of life, and death.

And he feels undeserving, because living instinctively, impulsively, came to him as natural as his cruelty did, and he didn’t think there was any other way to live his life comfortably without feeling like dying.

Until you happened.

You pop into his brain everytime, fighting and chasing away his nightmares with a small wooden sword against every bad thing that comes to him, no matter how big and strong they are. Just like the soldiers in his dad’s books, you were courageous, and brave enough to try and love him.

Eventually, dream–Law joins you in your fight, side by side. Sometimes he fights for you, protecting you as you sit around waiting for him. Other days you do it for him, or next to him.

Sometimes he doesn't have nightmares at all, but he knows you'll be there when they come back.

“Not the glittering weapon fights the fight, but rather the hero's heart,” his dad once read to a smaller, happier version of himself, on his last peaceful night.

Law couldn’t quite take the words in, worrying about Lami’s eye bags and how tired she looked, not really taking the story in.

He thinks he gets it, now.

                                       ☽

Law still remembers sin, feeling like you can't and shouldn't be corrupted, and he now understands the heavy weight of responsibility that Dressrosa's knight had whenever he pushed his dirty hands inside gloves to protect what was innocent. Fearing corruption of the vulnerable is what brings honor to Kyro’s memory.

At times, Law wishes he could do the same with you.

Once he has you, the fear of you being forcefully taken from him is a constant thought in the back of his mind. Somedays, he wants to keep you in his front pocket, safe and protected from all evil.

But the feeling of your skin against his is something he can’t give up, now that he knows that it’s here to stay.

He lives for the gentle way you cup his face, caressing his cheeks. How warm his face feels when you hug him, skin to skin. When the softness of your lips kiss him, needy for his touch.

He relishes in the tight grip he holds against the flesh of your hips, your thighs, breathing in your skin. Your arms clinging to him, blunt nails marking his back as yours. His skilled fingers working in and out of your body.

Well, Law never really thought of himself as an honorable man, after all.

                                     ☽

 You're in the city again.

It was a town they found in the aftermath of a bad battle, and they urgently needed more medicine provisions. And food. Bepo has already passed out twice today because of blood loss- and then his stomach rumbled. His mood swings were a lot harder to handle.

So you were out shopping for food with Ikakku, and Law stayed back with Penguin and Shachi helping him bandage the rest of the crew up.

You went without him, but he trusted you, now. You would stay safe for him. You would come back to him with no more wounds than the ones you left with, because you promised him.

It was still not easy to deal with.

The thought grows heavy in his mind the longer you take to come back. He grows snappy, easily irritated because of defeat, he tells himself. He's strong and capable, so why did they need to run away again? What was he lacking? How could they improve?

What the fuck was taking you so long?

"You can go with them, Captain. We got this covered."

Law tsks, starting a vain attempt to fight his first mate back. "I'm the only doctor on board, dumbass. This is my job."

"It's not like we're in a life or death situation." Penguin jumps in, wrapping a bandaged arm around his best friend. "You already took care of the worst, we can deal with the rest."

"Your irritation is giving us a headache, Captain. Just go." Jean-Bart says from a corner of the room.

Law frowns, clicking his tongue at the insulting giant. “You’re on cleaning duty until you die,” but relunctantly obeys, light chuckles resounding in his ears as he hops down to town.

They were getting a little too chummy with him. He'll hang them upside down when he comes back to his senses.

He walks the steps leading him to town and finds you both a few minutes later, and the sight before him makes his cold blood boil.

There are bags full of food laying at your feet as you talk to a vendor, and he notices just how close the man is to you, holding your arm to spread a herb on top of your wounds.

Was this lousy man trying to fix you up? Who the hell did he think he was, freely touching you like that?

Why were you letting him.

"Captain! We have everything ready, is everyone okay back there?" Ikakku's voice is ringing in his ears, but he can't pay attention to her.

You finally seem to notice him, turning your head from the stranger to smile at him, quickly turning back to the man and telling him something.

Law scoffs with annoyance. Now he can't even hold your attention for longer than a second. What’s so interesting you can’t go back to your own- to his crew?

"You can take these back to the sub, Ikakku, correct?" His eyes fly down to the woman next to him, making sure she won't lie to him. He could room it out if she asked to.

Ikkaku quickly looks at him, you, then back at him, her big eyes twinkling. "Of course I can, Captain. I'll see you both there."

And then, just because she pities you. "They were talking about you, you know."

Law doesn't have time to answer before she scurries off.

He tsks, walking towards you. His crew sure had the balls and ovaries to tease him, he'll give them that.

The man is still grabbing your arm when he gets there, and Law takes his hand out of his pocket to draw the offending hand off you.

"Don't accept medicine from strangers." He says, not looking at you. "Not when I'm not around."

You roll your eyes, apologising to the vendor. "Hi to you too, Captain. And I wasn't alone. Ikakku was here."

But I wasn’t. He bites off the bitter remark. “Who's this?”

“My name's Iida.” The vendor introduces himself, standing as tall as him, yet meekly. "I was just teaching the lady about our medical herbs.”

He looks at him with desinterest. "Wasn’t asking you, vendor-ya."

Your voice wears a warning tone. “Law.”

Looking down at you with a rude glare, he’s unable to keep the jealousy off his tone. “We won't come back to this lowlife town, and you won't remember his name even if we do." Just why were you standing up for this lanky man? “Let's go.”

He’s careful when he grabs your arm to tug you away, but he’s persistant nonetheless. “I'm sorry, Iida. Thank you for the help!”

Law's fuming, and he hates that you know that, even if he tries to hide it on his face. You know him well enough– too damn well, might you.

After a few moments of moodily dragging you across the town, he gives into his burning curiosity. “What were you talking about?”

“I was merely telling him about our grumpy doctor, and how he would like some of the plants there. You didn’t need to be so rude, you know.” You say, sighting afterwards.

What did you just say?

Your words leave him dumbfounded, and he stops in his tracks. “What?”

“He asked about our wounds, and I told him that he didn’t need to worry. That we had a friend who happens to be a grumpy doctor with us. Is something wrong?”

Law feels his stomach go cold.

There is, in fact, something wrong. There’s so many wrong things about you calling him a friend, and a doctor, that he doesn’t know where to start.

Was that it? After all you've been through, all the fights with teeth and nail to make him yours, he's reduced to his cursed profession? A damn friend?

Or were you just hiding him from the vendor in case something could spark between the both of you? Law's cold hands start to sweat at the thought, his heart plummeting against his chest.

If that was the case, why did it hurt so bad?

It irks him, how two stupid words can stab him right in his heart. Friends. You told him you introduced Shachi and Penguin like that to run away from Marines just last week, disguising their Jolly Roger’s with two big coats before escaping.

Was that the way you talked about him, too?

"Earth to Law?" two fingers snap in front of him. "Are you okay?"

Law blinks once, taking the sight of you in front of him. Twice, and he can feel your soft lips on him an hour before you went to town, telling him to take it easy. Promising to come back. Your hand is warm and safe in his, protected. He couldn’t be the only one dealing with these feelings. He couldn’t.

Right now, with your bag in one hand and his hand held tight in the other, he feels a vague sense of premonition.

                                     ☽ 

 You were always begging him to believe in you with a hand over your heart, promising things he was too scared of. Truth is, he’s already found something to believe in– his first religion has surprised him at his big age, laying protected in the stubbornness of your heart.

Now comes the scary part: it's time he puts a name to these feelings.

His voice sounds gruff and firm, calling your name. He’s long since dropped his -ya towards you, his careless façade more difficult to hold onto the deeper you carved your name into him, his bones and marrow marked forever. It’s fine. He accepted defeat long ago.

Your own voice sounds distracted when you answer, not raising your sight from the book in your hands. "Yeah, babe?"

“Yes.” He replies smartly, wincing afterwards. He feels awkwardness creeping up his stomach, making him sick. Why was he doing this again?

Your giggle reels him back. Right. Iida-ya, a few nights ago. You calling him a friend. He had to confront his feelings, no matter how much he wants to not do that. He starts, "I’ve been thinking.”

And cuts himself off, frowning. I think about you too much and it’s infuriating, he doesn't say, then recoils at the thought. You lift your gaze to look at him, and it’s all just too much for him.

Bring him an army of a thousand armed men. Make him participate with the world’s slowest, dumbest people in a fucking mathlaton. Take his arm out permanently. None of the these options can be as painful as this.

Resting his face in his hands, Law breathes out in annoyance. "I don't know how to fucking do this."

Silence. There’s worry in your voice, now. “Do what?”

Law scoffs, and not for the first time, he wishes you could just read his mind, if only to get this over with.

He can’t look at you, sitting all innocent on his bed, oblivious to the tangled thoughts in his head.

The old feeling to fight or flight tries to take over him, so he focuses his gaze on a drawing Bepo had hung on his quarters and takes a deep breath. It was the four of them a few years back, looking young and rowdy as ever. Penguin and Shachi had switched hats. Bepo insisted on paying the artist instead of making a run for it.

He exhales. "I’ve been thinking, and I’ve come to the conclusion that being with me is a dangerous decision. Not to mention foolish, and wrong–"  

"Not wrong. Not to me." You say with finality, closing the book to face your captain with a frown of your own. “We’ve been through this, Law. Why are you bringing it up again?"

"You’ll know if you let me finish." Law rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore how you didn’t correct dangerous and foolish. "I know what I said. We both know this.” He says your name with a warning. Don’t fight me on this. “Even so, I want..." structure. To be as important to you as you are to me.

What can he say? How can he say that without saying that?

What feels like hours in silence it’s probably around ten seconds, seconds wasted because Law can’t seem to find the right words. He knows he’s making stupid faces the longer he thinks about it, but it’s hard to keep the cringe off his face at this rate. If anyone saw him right now– no.

No, he would’ve killed them. That’s for certain. He would slice them to pieces, mix their parts up and spread their rests all over the New World.

The morbid thought comforts him a little. Breathing a bit easier, still not looking at you, he all but spits. "More. I want us to be more. Do you understand?"

There. He said it. He slowly sits to his full height, ears burning red and a permanent scowl refusing to leave his face–

And he sighs exasperatedly at the confusion in your face. "You don't get it?"

You're not helping, looking at him like he grew teeth on his forehead, gently shaking your head. "I don’t really follow."

That’s... that’s not what he expected.

In an attempt to save face, he scowls. “What do you not follow? What the hell more do you need?”

You sent him a dirty look. "I need you to tell me what you're thinking about, Law. I'm not a mind reader."

You’re trying so damn hard to protect yourself, but what about me?

His heart stutters inside his chest.

Fine. He can do this. There’s nothing to fear, is there? He can protect you. Law can fall asleep each night in the arms of a lover that welcomes him, with his fucked up soul and twisted mind, and he can protect you. He will put a name to what you both have, let you inside his brain instead of expecting you to read him.

That’s easier said than done, though. 

“You okay there?”

Your voice brings him back to reality. You’re standing between his knees now— when did that happen?— so close yet not enough to touch, to overwhelm. And he hates the way his stupid heart sinks with your lack of a nickname.

I was merely telling him about our grumpy doctor.

“I’m fine.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tries again. "What I'm trying to say is. I..."

“Yes?”

He stops in his tracks. God, will he be able to say this today? Before he explotes into little pathetic pieces that you could take to back Iida-ya to sell as a haunted herb?

But he’s just distracted by your voice. You sound mischievous yet patient in one little word, like you’re inside a secret with his heart and he’s the only one that hasn’t caught up yet.

Like you know what’s going on, but you’re testing him to see if he can actually go through with it.

Law knows that if he tilts his head a little higher, he'll see you wearing a smile. He can all but feel it beaming over his face, and he didn’t know that was even possible. He almost feels the need to squint his eyes.

That’s it. He needs to say it. He needs to just fucking say it.

He looks constipated for the entirety of ten seconds before he finally locks eyes with you, and awkwardly blurts out, "I love you."

Boom. The three little words that punch him right on the gut. Then, "I want us to be together officially."

You go stiff before him, and his heart is starting to pound painfully hard in his chest. His eager gaze never leaves yours, though, even as he pleads. "Don’t make me repeat myself."

A beat. One, two, three seconds pass. Law’s traitor brain is leading him to believe that you won't answer him at all– until you do.

He can see the moment it clicks.

Your answering smile catches him off guard, wide and beaming so bright he has to squint, or he might go blind. No one’s ever looked at him like that.

You peck him twice before he can react, your shaking hands squishing his face. He’s stunned, red in the face and confused, but you pay it no mind. Not surprisingly.

Then, Law’s ears eat up the sappiest shit you've ever said to him, like a starved man taking his first bite.

“Law, I’m– you idiot, you have me forever.” Tears welling up in your eyes, you swallow hard past the lump in your throat. His eyes uselessly follow the way your throat bobs. “I want more too. In whatever way you’ll have me, for as long as you let me. And I'll have you."

Sweet, carefree and a little breathless, you smile at him like you're telling the truth.

For a second, a frightening instant, the world stumbles beneath his feet. He’s dizzy between your hands, and he’s glad he’s sitting right now.

But his hands fly up to hold yours, tight, like the anchor of his submarine clings onto the wet sand, and his tense heart starts to loosen up with relief. And something akin to solace.

You chuckle wetly. "I love you too."

You have me forever.

It sounded like a promise.

The words finally land on him as he lets you pull his lightheaded head against yours, resting on you. Your hot breaths are mingling together, and if he looks close enough, he thinks he could count each one of your eyelashes.

You cheekily whisper into his open mouth. “Do you understand?”

                                     ☽

 The weight of your conversation doesn't grasp you yet. You're a stranger to the heaviness your words carry, to the lifelong commitment you signed with both your hearts on the line– but you'll be damned if the small smile he offers you in return isn't undoubtedly worth it.

[dreamrecorder]

The words we keep

Soulmate au - first words tattoed on the wrist

Includes: Venti | Diluc | Kaeya | Albedo | Zhongli | Xiao | Childe

Mentions of suicide in Zhongli; angst and brief violence for Childe

Oh you're here- I mean! I'm sorry I didn't mean to take your spot!

The bard had guessed that he'd meet his soulmate either in Angel's Share, in Windrise, or at the hands of his statue in Mondstadt. But the latter two were more unlikely. But he doesn't mind sharing his space with you really. In fact, Venti would be more than willing to let you in his space. But lo and behold! He didn't think he'd meet you at the hands of his statue!

Nights prior, you always heard a voice singing songs of various emotions. The voice eventually led you to Barbatos's statue. When you looked up, you saw the bard in green. His voice was very calming and pleasant to hear, so you always visited the statue at night. Until recently, your curiosity grew. Why does the bard always stay there at night?

Seeing your relaxed form on his statue, hair swaying in the wind. Venti just went soft. "Quite the lovely view isn't it?" 

He didn't mean to surprise but you still did become surprised. He found it endearing. "Oh you're here- I mean! I'm sorry I didn't mean to take your spot!"

Ah- you scared them. Please don't do that.

Now who did he scare and what did he do to warrant his soulmate's first words to him? Diluc has always been aware that he can be intimidating and usually he doesn't mind that. But for you- he does give half a mind.

There was a new winemaker that Connor had hired and Diluc has yet to meet them. Connor had even commented that their methods were a bit unusual. But if it's enough to get the former's approval, then Diluc will see to this newcomer.

Diluc met you during the night, just at the edges of the Stone Gate that signifies the border between Mondtsadt and Liyue. The man was simply patrolling around the area for any hidden dangers. That's when he saw you, kneeling on the ground with a group of slimes surrounding you. Seeing your plight, Diliuc quickly ran and summoned his greatsword. With a few swipes imbued with pyro, the slimes hastily retreated. He was about to chase them off, but he was more concerned of your safety.

Diluc was about to speak when you cut him off as you stood up, dusting your clothes. "Ah- you scared them. Please don't do that."

Diluc was dumbstruck for a second. He did not expect to meet his soulmate right here right now. Seeing his stupefied look, you raised a brow. "Are… you alright, Sir Diluc?"

"Those slimes were about to attack you." Diluc pointed out. His reply made you chuckle a bit and shake your head to the sides. Did he say anything funny?

"No they were not. I was trying to befriend them so that I could use their slime concentrations for the winery."

Now Diluc was even more confused. Slime? For tbe winery? "Wait- you're the new-"

"Winemaker. And your soulmate if you're not yet aware. Come on, let's go look for those slimes! We can talk on the way about our… professional and not-so professional side of our relationship." And with that, you trailed to the path of the slimes with a smile on your face. As for the wine tycoon, he was still confused- like a lost puppy, but there was this gentle smile that landed on his lips as he followed you.

Yes, I am suffering and in need of a Pyro Vision. Soulmate or not, if you don't have a Pyro Vision- shoo.

The text tattooed on Kaeya's wrist always left him laughing. He just knows, that this was meant to be a comical moment. He can even imagine the moment he meets his soulmate just from these words alone. But of course, he does worry about your well-being. Kaeya had his guesses. Maybe he would meet you in Dragonspine or maybe- you were an unprepared tourist enduring the permafrost of Snezhnaya and he'd meet you there. Well- in the end, he's still amused at your winterish pain.

Sure enough, Kaeya was tasked to scout Dragonspine for any Fatui activity. He could feel it under his skin that he'll meet you any second now. As he traversed through the mountain path, he noticed a group of warming seelies hovering over… someone? And that someone is shivering immensely. The captain grinned.

You heard footsteps approaching but you stayed in your crouched position, determined to preserve your body temperature. The seelies were helping, sure, but they were not enough to counter the coldness your Cryo Vision emanates. Damn it. Just because you're a cryo user doesn't mean you're immune to sheer cold.

The footsteps stopped and you snorted at the words the stranger spoke, "Could this possibly be my soulmate suffering in the cold and in need of a Pyro Vision?"

You huffed, you didn't want to meet your soulmate in this kind of situation. But it happened anyway, much to your dismay. Still crouched, you managed to turn to face the man as seelies continued hovering around.

"Yes, I am suffering and in need of a Pyro Vision. Soulmate or not, if you don't have a Pyro Vision- shoo."

Now actually hearing it from you made Kaeya laugh hard. If he was already amused just from the ink on his wrist before, Kaeya's now even more so deeply amused. You muttered sadist on his way. Deciding he's had enough a good laugh for today, the captain gave you his fur coat and a warming bottle. "Come on, let's get you some place warm, yes?"

You're not the only one! I actually did one for you, too!

When his mind is not occupied by hus studies, it would often drift ink embedded on his wrist. Everytime Albedo does so, he would often wonder what did the two of make for each other that would lead to you eventual meeting.

The Windblume Festival arrived, and of course, so will tourists from other lands. Usually, Albedo would simply pay no heed to the ongoing festivities and their participants. But this time- things were different. You unknowingly caught the alchemist's eye. There was this sudden itch in his hands- and Albedo knew he had to sketch you form. However, before he could even approach you- you left to another direction.

He caught sight of you again the next day. You were reading a book on a bench, with the plaza fountain giving you a beautiful background for Albedo. Discreetly, the alchemist sat on a bench front of yours and began sketching. Unbeknownst by him, you were also entranced by his form and you, too, began sketching.

Albedo was first to finish- and like usual, he would give the sketch to the person he drew of even if they were strangers. As he walked, there was this certain nervousness that found way in his stomach. This never happened before. Why was he nervous?

Once close enough, Albedo cleared his throat and handed you his sketch, "I know this seems suspicious, but I want you to have this. You have a wonderful form."

You'd be lying if you said your heart did not stop a beat at his words. When you saw the paper he was offering you, you gasped at how he caught every detail of you. Bashful, you tore the page you were drawing on from sketchbook and gave it to him.

"You're not the only one! I actually did one for you, too!"

When your words reached his ears, Archons bless you as he gave you a genuine and joyful smile.

Please... don't touch my heart that wants to disappear.

When Zhongli fully embraced his mortal form, he didn't expect the universe to gift him a soulmate. Like a snake, ink slithered into words that gave his heart a certain sadness. Zhongli knew, you were suffering somewhere... Out there...

He saw you first at the highest peak of Guyun Stone Forest. Everything happened so quickly. One second he was watching your distant form from the beaches below then the next he knew- his heart dropped, the same way you willingly fell to the hands of death that waited in the sea. The archon did what he knew is right- and that is saving you.

To Zhongli, immoratlity can both be a blessing and a curse. When your skins touched, he knew you were of immortality. He could sense it. And he could also sense the tiredness that nest in your soul from the burden of immortality.

Once Zhongli landed on safe ground, that's when he spoke. "I won't ask why, however is this truly what you want?"

The way his words reflected the ink written on your wrist made you open your eyes wide. When the realization sank in- that this man is your soulmate, you began crying. You were tired of life- but this man- this man is now your lock away from your want for death. If you stayed with him- another cycle of seeing the people you love come and go.

"Please..." you begged, "don't touch my heart that wants to disappear..."

Your voice was sad and pleading- but Zhongli was a stubborn man, just like his element. He wanted to help you but not by giving your death. He wanted you to see life in a new light, hopefully with him by your side.

Excuse me... Here- for you. Qingxin.

Xiao was always resolute in his resolve that he has no need of a soulmate deemed by the universe. However, there are times that he would let his mind flutter around the concept. Specifically, around the words elegantly written on his wrist and his soulmate. Xiao would question why would you give him qingxin flowers in the first place. Other than that, there was also this underlying worry in his thoughts about you and the qingxin flowers. These flowers... they can only be gathered on high stone peaks. What if you slipped and fall?

This leads Xiao to have days where he just spends his time at the peaks of Jueyun Karst, looking out for any foolish person scale mountains just for qingxin. It's not because he's worried about you no- Xiao just doesn't want anyone die under his protection over Liyue. There has already been too much deat-

"Excuse me..."

At the voice, Xiao's head whipped to your direction with eyes wide in surprise.

"Here- for you. Qingxin."

There was this bored look in your face, but Xiao could see the worry in your eyes. Worry? Were you worried about him? Xiao frowned at the thought but still took the flowers from your outstretched hand.

"Foolish mortal... you could have gotten yourself hurt. Climbing peaks just for qingxin..."

... But still a small smile graced his lips and your heart melted.

"Thank you."

You're the only person I recognize whose eyes resemble the deep blue ocean.

The words tattooed on his wrist always left Childe questioning about his soulmate and what led them saying these words. Somehow- imagining the possible scenarios always makes him melt. This string of words- it never fails him to bring a sense of comfort in his heart. Childe learns of yoir existance during a mission.

The mission was to assasinate a captain of the Knights- you. He observed you for days and took note how you're silent and alone for the most part but kind to the people who approach you- he almost feels bad for having to kill you. The day came when he had to kill you. It was supposed to be a quick kill- but he should know better. You were a captain for a reason, so you fought back. However, in the end, Childe was stronger as he wrap his hands around your fragile neck. Another second, he'd have you dead- until a child's voice cut through- your little brother. The way your eyes watered up at the sight of your only family. Seeing the hurt in your eyes, Childe's thoughts went overdrive- No- nonononono way I'm killing in front of a kid- He simply can't- he was reminded of his little brother, too. With a wavering will to disobey orders, Childe let you go and retreated to the night,

"Don't think this is the last time you'll see me."

Like a shattering glass- the words he uttered made your heart shatter like glass...

Childe saw you again, this time in Liyue. When your gazes meet- there was a shock that passed through with tension suddenly gripping your necks. Childe swore he hid much of his identity physically that night- but he knew you recognized him. He managed to corner you in Yuehai Pavillion by swooping into an empty seat right in front of you. There was a tense moment and an oppresive air. He noticed how your hands were ready to grab your weapon. "How did you recognize me?"

You carefully thought of your words. And when you did reply, Childe have never felt so much despair until today. "You're the only person I recognize whose eyes resemble the deep blue ocean."

Back before he knew you- these words always comforted Childe- but now? Childe felt chills in his spine as despair clouded his mind. Why would the universe decide to have person he was supposed to kill his soulmate.

Similarly, his heart also shattered.

A/N: Look!!! I got meself some banners ksks---- this is all Childe's fault rawr

[ev-pierce-writes]

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin.  He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

[twilightmalachite]

Twin Peaks - factorization 5

Author: Akira

Characters: Yuuta, Kaoru

Translator: Mika Enstars

Proofers: 310mc & feesh

"Ah, sorry. It’s not my intention to cast accusations on your brother—I have no doubt that all those things he does for you are done out of love."

Season: Autumn

Location: Starmony Hall Dorm Room (Kaoru, Yuuta, Nagisa's Room)

Kaoru: Hehe. Well, you seem to have calmed down now. I’ll be a good listener, so feel free to let it all out.

Yuuta: Ooh, I feel like you’re actually going to be pretty serious about giving me advice, huh?

Kaoru: Mhm. I’ve got a good amount of free time right now. Plus, I can’t just go ahead and perform without permission during the Nightless City Live anyway—if I do, it’ll be like I’m breaking a rule or something and we’ll lose points.

That said, I scold Rei-kun pretty much on the daily about how he shouldn’t meddle too much in other people’s business. So I don’t mean to stick my neck too far in your business either, yeah?

This is you and Hinata-kun’s problem, so I can’t act as the backseat driver and solve it for you guys.

Yuuta: Even then, it’s a big help just to have you hear me out. …Well, I’m aware that we’re the ones who keep drawing the line and keeping everyone from getting involved in “our problem”.

But no matter how hard we try to hide it, everyone already knows by now because of what happened during the Setsubun Festival.

Kaoru: Well, they do say that old habits die hard. ♪

Yuuta: Yeah, that’s right~! It’s hard, changing as a person is so hard!

Kaoru: Huh, what’s with this all of a sudden?! What are you talking about?

Yuuta: Just a moment ago, I was looking in the mirror trying to change all sorts of things about my appearance.

Kaoru: Ah, I was wondering what you were up to, so focused like that—

I thought you might have a crush and started to get more self-conscious, and I figured that I shouldn’t butt in if that was the case. So I just kept an eye on you.

When you have an experience like that as a kid, it can be pretty traumatizing.

Yuuta: Are you a father with a daughter who’s going through puberty or something?

Kaoru: Well, to be honest with you, my older sister had an experience like that.

Seemed like she got pretty hurt by some mean comment someone made about her—so she didn’t really put much effort into dressing up until I started poking my nose in her business.

All her beauty was just going to waste. That, and I was mad at that person who said something so cruel to her.

Yuuta: Ahaha. I feel like you’re more obsessed with your sister than I thought, huh, Hakaze-senpai?

Kaoru: I think getting angry is normal when someone in your family has been hurt.

Well, maybe there’s a small chance that the person who made that mean comment could be me… Being the dumb kid that I was, I didn’t think anything of it…

I’ll just sound like an idiot if it comes back to bite me, so I’ll stop the rant here.

Yuuta: Ah~, I understand. Our father was like that too—probably.

If only we could have pretended to be the perfect, idealized version of ourselves all the time, but that’s hard no matter how good we are at it.

Well, I’ll leave that aside. My brother Hinata-kun’s a person of good character, so if they could only choose one of us to go on, he would definitely be the one to back down from the offer.

He is always trying to give me the very best he can give, after all.

Kaoru: Ah, yeah. I know from listening to you vent time after time that he’s always been like that.

I guess he just doesn’t understand that the moment you give in and accept it from him out of respect, that present he’s worked so hard to get for you becomes a burden.

Yuuta: ……

Kaoru: Ah, sorry. It’s not my intention to cast accusations on your brother—I have no doubt that all those things he does for you are done out of love.

Yuuta: Ugh… But even if this is just business as usual to Hinata-kun, the burden he’s given me this time around is different.

In the worst case scenario, this might be what draws a definitive line of separation between me and Hinata-kun.

It’s so shocking that we’ve even been chosen for a job like this, so much so that we can’t even comprehend it—especially from where we stand in the industry now.

I’m sure that’s exactly why our Vice Prez wants to try and send some CosPro talent into that program, even though he really will be doing just that—trying.

Kaoru: Yeah, I bet. But why did he choose you two? Shouldn’t he be able to see that separating a pair of twins is a dumb idea no matter how you look at it?

Yuuta: Hmm… Eden works separately as Adam and Eve all the time, so maybe that was why he didn’t think much of it.

Or maybe it was just a simple process of elimination. Aside from us, Valkyrie, and Crazy:B, no other unit has the power and influence needed to make an appearance on that program.

Kaoru: Ahhh… It’d be impossible to make a situation like that change to fit your will—it’s much too risky.

Yuuta: Yes. Also, ever since Bogie Time, the Vice Prez has gotten annoyed over the members of Eden taking jobs without him knowing.

So, I guess in the whole cycle of taking turns, this opportunity found its final stop with us.

Kaoru: Or maybe he just came to the decision that you two would be able to handle it well?

Yuuta: I hope that’s the case, but… No, you’re right, I think that's probably it. The Vice Prez isn’t one to let his own feelings cloud his judgment.

He just felt wholly confident in our skills as idols, and entrusted the job to us.

So that’s just why I’ve got to change.

Kaoru: ? You said you were thinking of trying to change your look, but why? You mean like, when you start high school and try to become a completely different person, or something?

I think that’ll actually be more pathetic, if anything else, so please don’t~ I’m experienced here, so take it from me.

Yuuta: Ahaha. Hakaze-senpai, did you do that when you started high school?

Kaoru: A little bit, yeah. I was thinking stuff like… “I’ve been such a good kid all my life, so I’m gonna have so much fun that I won’t end up with any regrets these next three years”…

In hindsight, I was a late bloomer—that was my rebellious phase, you know?

You guys are still young, so I think it’s fine for you to try different things without passing too much judgment on yourself.

That made me sound like an old man, didn’t it? I guess that’s just the result of all the wining and dining I’ve been doing with people in the industry.

Yuuta: Hmm… It’s not really the case where I’m thinking of buying a brand new set of clothes or tearing down my personality and building it anew in preparation for a big performance. It might be something I’ll have to do eventually, but that’s not the point.

It was 2wink that they asked to perform. If my looks are too uncharacteristic of 2wink, it’s inevitable that they’ll—that they should—choose Hinata-kun to perform.

That’s what I was thinking, so I was trying a ton of different ways to change my look. But it isn’t going anywhere—I still like how we look.

Besides, if I did that, I’d be making Hinata-kun give into what I want just to be thoughtful. I’ve always hated when he does that to me.

Kaoru: Mhm. Don't do unto others what you don't want done unto you.

…I used to hate it when all those high-and-mighty seniors of mine would tell me what to do, and now I’m doing the exact same thing… Just turn a blind eye, okay?

Yuuta: Ahaha. But that’s hard for me to do~. The things we remember the most are the things that other people have done to us, after all.

We end up doing the same thing to others without even being aware of it—it’s like our actions have been perfectly symmetrical.

Kaoru: Yeah. And that’s why things like bullying and war will never go away. It’s a structural flaw—all humans have it.

Yuuta: War—

I see; maybe we should go to war. We have to decide for ourselves; we won’t leave the responsibility to judge us to other people.

That would be much more fitting for us.

Kaoru: ? What do you mean?

Yuuta: We could never even get into a fight, because Hinata-kun would just hold back and give up—we’ve never been able to have a clear winner or loser.

But this is a great opportunity to try, and it might be nice for us to go head to head in a fight for once. It’s an old tradition that none of us Yumenosaki kids can be proud of—to fight head to head like that and see the resolution in black and white—isn’t it?

Kaoru: ……?

← prev | story directory | next →

[gisachi]

Better late than never?? Supposed to post on the day itself but of course I couldn’t. This is my rushed contribution to the prompt: domestic mixed with black knight&princess.

ShinRan Week Day 6

Prompt: Domestic (+ Black Knight&Princess)

Words: ~2.5k

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“Not just once, but twice! Who was it that saved my life again? Oh, unnamed knight with the black cloak, if you will grant me my wish… Please take off that dark mask and show me your true face!”

“If that is what, uh, the princess wishes, I shall show you my sorrow- sorrowful? - face under this moonlight. Oh wow this is cheesy.”

Ran leans on the arm of the couch, bound script covering her resigned face. If she had a hundred yen for every single complaint coming out of this detective’s mouth, she’d have enough to buy two entrance passes to Tropical Land for each day of the week, plus snacks and drinks.

“I went here because I thought you’d be a more immersive practice partner than ‘tou-san. You are worse.”

“I’m sorry, princess, if my mom being an actress ruined your expectations of me.”

“Oh, for sure. And otou-san doesn't destroy the scene by dropping nonsensical comments. And lie on the couch while reading the script. So he’s better by a lot.”

Shinichi props his body up, eyes rolling sarcastically before throwing a look at the lady on the edge. “To be fair, you came barging into my house so early on a Sunday. This is justified.”

“Shinichi, eleven in the morning isn’t early.”

With a stubborn grumble, the detective flops back into the cushions, script on his lap sliding to the floor. “ ’M tired Ran, long case last night, let me sleep.”

“Please, you’re my last option! School festival is in less than two weeks, and I can’t possibly ask Araide-sensei to spare time on a weekend outside of our rehearsal schedule when he’s busy working—”

The lightning speed Shinichi jolts upright causes Ran to cut herself short. “Araide-sensei is the cloaked knight?”

“Yes, didn’t I tell you?”

“You didn’t.”

“Really? I-” she pauses, delayed in taking in the curt iciness of his response when he was so apathetic five seconds ago. On anyone else it’s clear what that tone implies, but she’s never heard it on him.

“Do you have a beef with Araide-sensei?” she asks.

“A beef?”

Ran arches an eyebrow, skeptic. Shinichi meets her gaze, eyes slightly thinning before glancing away, cheeks crimson.

“I mean— Why Araide-sensei? Shouldn’t he be busy, I dunno, being a doctor, than being a fictional knight or something.”

“All the guys in our class were too shy and declined, so Sonoko asked Araide-sensei when he happened to come in for a checkup. He agreed so easily! Would you believe he’d taken a lot of lead roles in plays when he was a student?”

“And that was fifteen something years ago.”

“He’s also good at things like emphasizing lines and handling a woman!”

“Anyone can- What?!”

“Stop being a sourpuss Shinichi, especially when you’re the first to decline.”

He looks at her quizzically. “I did?”

“You don’t even remember?” Amidst the faint pink on her cheeks, disappointment etched on the way Ran’s lips curve to a small pout. “You were the first Sonoko asked... You were so quick to turn her down, she said.”

Astounded by the revelations docking in his brain all at once, Shinichi struggles to recall the conversations he had exchanged with Sonoko the past weeks. None stands out. If she had included Ran’s name in there, he would remember instantly. But Sonoko didn’t. Suddenly, the floodgates in his mind open.

If he finds out later on about the plot and the cast, he’ll definitely find a reason or two to sulk, if not object. Whether Ran is partnered with someone else or Araide-sensei doesn’t matter, for as long as it isn’t him. Him who she’s positive would outright reject her offer to act as a prince because why would he? In any case, god knows Sonoko omitted Ran’s name on purpose for this.

The sly woman has stirred something up, and she will proudly take the front row seat on his reaction she was so sure he’d make.

Not saying Sonoko’s predictions are right. This is just how she thinks. And he won’t react the way she expects he will. She is not right.

Not. Right.

Sonoko, yaro...

“Stand up, let’s do this.”

“Huh?”

“You want immersive? I’ll give you immersive.”

Left with little time to process as Shinichi pulls her by the hand, Ran drops her script on the floor. The sudden shift in character is unbelievable. How can someone so sleep-deprived turn into someone this enthused in a span of a breath?

“But first, let me…” He leaves the room, and Ran picks up her script, still quite lost. Whatever she said earlier must have triggered something, and she’s torn if she’ll ask once he returns but considers the possibility that he may break character. Not gonna risk that. He said he’ll give her an immersive practice, and it’s oddly unexpected, but she’ll take it. This is good. After all, she needs him as the knight.

Wants him as the knight.

“Sheesh, Ran, stop…” Shying away from her own maidenly thoughts, Ran flips to the designated page, scene, and line, rehearsing as she waits.

Some minutes later, Shinichi reappears, holding his script and something else. Of all things she would expect him to own, a blue fancy Columbina mask adorned with elegant silver and royal patterns wasn’t one of them.

“Mom has these things, okay,” he explains, putting it on. Ran isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or tease, but she does neither when she gets a glimpse of him with half of his face covered, and she catches her breath at the sight.

Standing against silk red curtains and brilliant glow of afternoon sunlight, he really does seem like a mysterious knight…

“Don’t laugh, idiot. After doing this for you. Wear this,” he says, and Ran zeroes in on the line of his lips because she has nowhere else to look at as he places a small barrette tiara on her hair. Doesn’t matter what he says, what they wear, even if they fail to match the daintiness of the mask and tiara. Shinichi with this on makes Shinichi as the knight much more vivid now. And Ran as the princess...

“Sorry!” She claps a hand on her warming cheek, pulls back a dumb smile she doesn’t notice she is wearing. “And I— I wasn’t laughing!”

“Still smiling creepily though.”

“I wasn’t being creepy! Geez. Anyway! Page-”

“Page 27, Scene 8, Line 10. Got it.”

After some short blocking instructions, they drop their scripts on the couch, and begin.

“Oh, unnamed knight with the black cloak, if you will grant me my wish… Please take off that dark mask and show me your true face!”

“If that is what the princess wishes, I shall show you my sorrowful face under this moonlight.”

Two steps forward and he removes the mask, and time slows down. She’s seen the same face a million times yet this time, her heart leaps like she’s laid eyes upon the most handsome face in the universe.

“Might—Might you be Spade?” She carries on, taking everything she can to maintain composure. “Long ago, you were banned from this land by my father… but now you’ve become the prince of Trump Kingdom...”

It’s nerve wracking, the way he’s strikingly still, eyes laden on her, either waiting for her next lines or admiring how beautiful she is with the tiara, she isn’t quite sure. The mask is gone, but he isn’t breaking character. Meanwhile, she’s trying her darned best to stay as Princess Heart of Bridge Kingdom.

“If you have… not forgotten about our childhood promise, then please…”

A nervous lump forms in her throat as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, and his hands find her waist, and she nearly gasps but holds it in because right now, she’s Princess Heart, not Mouri Ran asking this of Kudou Shinichi. “Please, show me on these lips.”

“As my princess so desires...”

It should be ‘the’, not ‘my.’ And there’s supposed to be another line after that, but nothing stops him as he leans in ahead of time and her eyelids flutter to the erratic beat of her heart. It’s better to be partnered with Araide-sensei in this after all. He will not mess up his lines, and she will not lose her mind the way she’s losing it now.

Two parted lips are a pucker away when the doorbell chimes, making both jolt.

Ran is first to snap out of character, as if she hasn’t had the urge to earlier.

“That—That must be Sonoko. I forgot to tell you...  I invited her in.”

“Oh, great,” Shinichi says.

Forcing her limbs into working order, Ran disentangles slowly, drawing a distance. Shinichi glances at the mask in his hand, then at her, before tossing it to the couch and turning for the door. From the window, she watches him walk to the front gate, scratching the back of his head in an annoyed manner like she just woke him from sleep, but grumpier. She hasn’t seen him display much emotion on a Sunday noon the way she’s seeing him now.

Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered him, she sighs, her turn to slump onto the couch this time.

-

“As I was saying, the prod already scouted the finest material for the costumes, and I decided, pink suits Princess Heart— Hello? Are you listening?”

Ran nearly drops the knife she holds if not for her inhuman reflexes. “Of course! Princess Heart in pink! Yes.” Like nothing happened, she resumes slathering jam and butter on the toast she’s preparing for the three of them. She doesn’t need to look at her side to know Sonoko’s eyeing her from head to toe.

“What happened to her?” The woman turns to Shinichi who sits at the high stool by the kitchen island.

“Dunno,” he says, sounding as noncommittal as he probably appears. Her back is turned against him, but she can see his face, and god why is she blushing?

“I just helped her rehearse. For the play,” he adds.

“Oh?” Sonoko’s brow perks up her forehead, hair whipping as she turns between her and the boy across them. “Did you?”

“Yup. Page 27.”

The dramatic gasp that tears from their friend’s throat is exactly the kind of gasp they expected; even so, Ran still flinches as Shinichi’s stool rakes the floor. “You kissed and I didn’t see?!”

“Hah?!”

“No!”

The two yelp in unison.

“That’s sly! You have to do it again! I’ll judge.”

“Excuse you! It didn’t happen, what you’re thinking!”

“Sonokooo!”

“Oh, shush, Ran, this is good practice. Good practice.”

“But—”

“Relax, rehearsal is rehearsal! In the actual play, once it’s Araide-sensei, he’ll do a better job—”

“I’m going to the toilet,” Shinichi gets off the stool, jaw stiff, out of the kitchen.

“—with a hug than a kiss. Right?” Sonoko ends, once Shinichi is out of the room.

“What?” Ran’s expression is inscrutable as she faces Sonoko completely, the flush across her face befitting embarrassment or ire. “You’re losing me here!”

“Oh, you’re not going to kiss, Ran. The lights will dim before your lips touch.”

“Then why—” she puts down the bread and walks in haste to the island to flip through the script, “Wh— That’s not in here!”

“Sonoko-sama hereby deems the script revised now that we have Araide-sensei.”

“Eh...?!” Ran cannot explain the play of her reactions. On one hand, a cloud is cleared from her mind, having to worry no more about doing something she has no experience with in front of watchful eyes. On the other, bunch of half-formed thoughts whirl through her mind that goes, Shinichi and I almost kissed for nothing, for nothing we almost k-kissed, an almost kiss with Shinichi, almost—

“That won’t do! I mean— That’s so not you! T-To choose a hug over a...”

“Duh, Ran! Even if it’s just a play, I won’t enable a kiss scene between a student and a staff member. We can fake the kiss. That, or switch to hug. Or better yet, change the male lead.”

“Change the male lead? In two weeks? Who will agree?!”

“Easy.” Just in time, Shinichi returns, hands in pocket and long face worn all the way to the stool.  “I know someone who will.”

-

‘Once it’s Araide-sensei, he’ll do a better job…’ What? Kissing Ran? Shinichi wants to puke. Sonoko needs to think things through. If this is part of her plan, it’s unacceptable, it sucks.

There’s no way, no way anyone can do a better job kissing Ran than…

“Aaaargh, what are you thinking!” He ruffles his hair in dismay, curses here and there. He only wanted to help Ran yet he almost went for it. Not as Spade but as himself. The audacity. It’s part of the script, sure, but—

If it is part of the script, then have Ran and Araide-sensei rehearsed it before?

“That’s it,” Shinichi huffs, storming out of the bathroom. If this is the kind of reaction Sonoko wants from him, she’s in for a show. Not just a show but a lifetime of curses and mental stabs. For her to go this far is unbelievable. Did Ran even agree to that? Will such a scene really happen in the play? No matter how despicable Sonoko’s methods are, he has faith she respects Ran’s preference as the female lead. No offense against Araide-sensei, but he cannot take Ran’s first kiss, whether as Spade or not.

That is not to say he knows Ran’s preference, especially when it comes to a first kiss, but… it’s not... Araide-sensei... is it?!

He cannot ascertain, not when Ran did nothing when they were about to kiss…

Okay, halt there, self. I said immersive. That’s immersive. She was acting.

All was but an act. She’s a great actress. I suck. No need to make this a big deal.

Shinichi is a pitiful mess once he’s back in the kitchen.

“My offer still stands, you know.” Sonoko sits beside him, munching a toast, while Ran is busy returning the jam in the cupboard, back against them.

“Your offer?”

Shinichi glances at Ran, then at Sonoko, with that feral grin on her lips and Shinichi does a bad job looking pissed, and it’s maddening because he is pissed, just not obvious with the blush forming across his cheek.

Reprimanding Sonoko is what he intends to do. For doing him dirty, him and Ran dirty, for dragging a staff to be the male lead, for imploring Ran to give her first kiss she’s probably saving in a different setting. All invalid reasons, when he cared less about the play before. He’s a full-time idiot, and Sonoko knows it clearly that’s why she’s offering the role again. He doesn’t want to fall into her trap, the same way he doesn’t want anyone else to be Spade when Princess Heart is Ran.

But Ran looks over her shoulder and they accidentally lock eyes, and pink blooms across her cheeks before she turns around, and suddenly the words that leave his mouth completely betray the thought process he underwent in the bathroom.

“If Ran agrees, yeah,” he says.

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[darkcircles4lyfe]

retrospective & predictions

Since we're on a hiatus week (between 320 and 321) I feel like waxing poetic about the depth and growth of bkdk for a bit. Especially because it seems like we’re right on the edge of their biggest development yet, I’m getting the urge to lay all my perspectives and insights I’ve picked up from others out on the table. This is ultimately only my subjective interpretation of subtextual material in canon, though. If you’ve never quite understood what people see in their dynamic and you’re actually open to hearing me out, maybe from this you can at least see where we’re coming from. And if you don’t like my takes after all, well, we’ll see who’s right in the coming chapters, won’t we? What I have to say can be taken platonically or romantically; I appreciate both. 

putting it under the cut, since it’ll be long:

At the risk of projecting, I want to start by examining a couple things based partly on personal experience.

From many different directions, I often hear people expressing that Deku’s persistent attachment and admiration for Bakugou is baffling at best. Despite the bullying, despite Bakugou’s loud, rude, and uncompromising personality, he still puts effort into their relationship and frequently describes him as amazing. It seems like Deku himself is aware of this as he’s said things along the lines of how he’s difficult, BUT... etc. Although I don’t think it’s exactly that Deku finds Bakugou’s personality hard to be around, but that he’s deliberately expressing patience for Bakugou’s emotional turmoil. 

I have to say I know what this sort of patience is like, as I went through it with someone I love. I only chose to put up with their behavior because I decided the possibility of what our relationship could be was worth it. I wasn’t blind or submissive to how they treated me, and I wasn’t coerced. I simply expressed myself and established my boundaries while still allowing them the opportunity to join me in my world once they got over their own hangups. And guess what? It worked out in the end. That doesn’t mean there aren’t circumstances where it’s better to cut ties, but I want to stress that true reconciliation is possible sometimes. I used to worry that other people around me thought I was delusional for seeking it, but what really helped was my therapist reminding me that I’m smart and strong. So I think Deku deserves to feel the same. In a way this is his whole mission in life, his approach to being a hero as well as his personal relationships.

Let me also be clear though that I don’t mean Deku is only tolerating Bakugou’s personality, his mannerisms, the parts of him that will likely never change. I’m drawing a line between those things and his emotional state (they so rarely align anyway, but I’ll get to that later). In fact, I think Bakugou’s general attitude is part of what Deku admires. This is gonna be hard to explain without inserting personal experience too, sorry. As a writer myself I’ve noticed I’m drawn to writing characters that are brazen and bold and don't mind telling people off. Really it’s because I operate in the world in the polar opposite way. I try not to draw attention to myself, I’m quiet, and I’m a people-pleaser. People who project confidence, especially in an impolite sort of way, fascinate me. It’s good to take cultural context into account, too: I've heard people who’d know better than me that part of the reason Bakugou is the most popular character in the Japanese fandom is likely because he contradicts a lot of their social norms. His disregard is refreshing and cathartic. I can speculate that Deku has a similar point of view based on what he thinks but does not admit about Bakugou being his image of victory and how this sometimes makes him mimic Bakugou’s speech and mannerisms: 

There’s also the bit in this fight where Deku realizes he's the only one able to receive Bakugou’s emotions. This is because he’s the most intimately familiar with him and his situation, but I think there’s another layer. Deku, as we know, has a self-sacrificing tendency, and in the current chapters we’re seeing the worst side of that. But let’s also not forget that to an extent, it can be a positive trait: resilience. When it comes to Bakugou, he has an almost comical ability to dodge the potential fallout of his outbursts. The example we all jump to (and fight about..) is how in ch1, apart from the initial shock of Bakugou suggesting he jump off the roof, the most he reacts is to criticize him for saying such a ridiculous thing. However, I think their interaction post- sludge villain is a lot more interesting:

Note two things: 1, in his head, Deku is practically making fun of how Bakugou’s acting as he stomps away without waiting for a reply. It doesn’t faze him. 2, Deku thinks, optimistically, that he can now focus on a different career choice. This is astonishing really. Up to this point, none of Bakugou’s attempts to put him down have worked; he just kept pursuing his dream. The only reason Deku concedes in this moment it because for the first time, he has been shown that he really couldn't do anything in a fight against a villain. All Might told him he couldn't be a hero (although he’s literally about to take that back in the next few pages lol) and the other heroes at the scene gave him a lecture about it too. It was those experiences, and not Bakugou’s words, that truly affected him. And when All Might tells Deku he can be a hero after all, it’s not thinking of Bakugou’s bullying that makes him sob and fall to his knees, it’s the memory of his own mom never telling him those words he so desperately needed to hear. Having spent most of their lives together, Deku must have been aware all this time that Baukgou was influenced by larger societal forces rather than a core judgement, so he didn’t take it personally. He separated the person from the action, and because he’s resilient and patient, he is thus equipped to handle Bakugou’s emotions. It’s a testament to his maturity and emotional intelligence, really. 

But I can almost hear some of you saying, “that doesn’t mean Deku should have to be the bigger person here!” Correct! Just because Deku is perfectly alright bearing all of that, doesn’t mean atonement-era Bakugou sees it this way. We can track his awareness of Deku’s care and selflessness as follows-

The bridge scene, when they’re little kids: Bakugou conflates Deku’s heroism with pity, and subsequently thinks Deku is looking down on him because Bakugou’s own insecurity makes him defensive.

The Sludge Villain, and also Deku vs. Kacchan Part 1: Bakugou witnesses first-hand how easily Deku jumps to risk his own life, but still thinks he’s being looked down on. 

The Sports Festival: Bakugou fights Uraraka and recognizes her endurance strategy and refusal to give up as very Deku-like. He’s half right. He thinks Deku advised her in the fight, when in reality she just mimicked Deku because she admired him. I want to draw attention to his very sober comment about her not being frail. It’s a great endearment of Uraraka’s character and Bakugou’s respect for her when others didn’t take “fighting a girl” seriously, but it also reflects on his opinion of Deku. Deku isn’t weak either. He never was.

Deku vs. Kacchan Part 2: Deku finally corrects him about the whole looking-down-on-him thing, and Bakugou is informed that Deku’s selflessness is in fact the reason All Might chose him. Since Bakugou had been in search of what he himself was “doing wrong” for All Might to favor Deku over him, he now has to reconcile the fact that selflessness is a heroic trait, and moreover something he lacks. This is also possibly the first time Bakugou is able to see his past actions toward Deku as bullying since he previously thought it was more mutual. Additionally, Bakugou can now link Deku’s selfless behavior to what he perceived as pity/contempt, and realize that Deku has been giving him A LOT of grace. Maybe too much. Maybe more than Bakugou deserves, and definitely more than Deku should have to. Holy heck- now Bakugou has to figure out how to live up to all the faith that’s been placed in him. 

Subtextually, we can see Bakugou’s feelings about atonement reflected in the Todoroki family:

1, Shouto is another example of Deku growing a friendship using his selflessness (since their fight in the sports festival) and their relationship is being acknowledged here where it hasn’t been in Bakugou’s situation. Perhaps Bakugou is wishing it could be so simple for him, to be able to thank him for being his friend like that. Deku saying the pleasure is all his also probably calls to mind how a mere apology from Bakugou would probably be dismissed because that’s just the kind of accommodating person Deku is. Bakugou has to operate more quietly in order to actually make up for their past. I personally don’t interpret this scene as Bakugou being jealous of Deku and Shouto’s friendship, exactly, just the lack of emotional baggage. Side note, Deku and Fuyumi are kinda similar in their desire to repair relationships. I like that she’s the one to give him some credit. 

2, With the common terminology, this can be interpreted as Bakugou receiving a model for atonement, one that is about action, and nothing to do with receiving favor or forgiveness. It’s a sense of duty. 

Many of the above sentiments are repeated in the flashback conversation between All Might and Bakugou right before Bakugou’s sacrifice. 

Bakugou acknowledges his bullying and that it happened because of his own insecurities, but aside from that, it’s interesting he neither confirms nor denies All Might’s suggestion that he’s trying to atone, or that Deku doesn’t see it that way. All Might is a bit of an unreliable mentor sometimes, but I don’t think he’s misreading here. Rather, Bakugou is displaying his tendency to hold back when talking about things that would make him really emotional. Besides, admitting to what he’s doing kind of defeats the purpose. He isn’t seeking acknowledgement. All Might has gotten to the crux of the issue here when pointing out that Deku doesn’t recognize the atonement, likely because Deku doesn't think Bakugou even needs to atone. Am I reading into it too much to say Bakugou looks wistful at this? It’s kinda frustrating sometimes trying to interpret Bakugou’s actions because he’s so paradoxical. Loud and in your face, but also extremely reserved. Sometimes I feel like I’m grasping at thin air, but hey, being hard to figure out is part of his intrigue as a character. The simplest way to look at him is to assume that unless he’s really showing vulnerability, he’s probably deflecting and hiding something.

Speaking of Bakugou’s tendency to to hold back emotional stuff, there’s his apparent lack of issue with Deku calling him Kacchan. Maybe to begin with, in his warped perception of things where he thought they hated each other, Bakugou saw it as Deku’s way of getting back at him for calling him “useless,” and didn't dare give any indication that it actually bothered him. However... consider how betrayed Bakugou has appeared when he was noticeably thinking Deku was looking down on him- the bridge scene, and the beginning of their first year at UA when he thought Deku was hiding a quirk all along. He looks shocked and hurt. That kind of emotion couldn’t be invoked by someone Bakugou didn’t actually care about his relationship with. “Kacchan” comes from a long time ago, before their relationship was strained, so it’s connotations are pure. Maybe somewhere deep down, Bakugou has always been hoping that Deku’s continued use of the nickname was not simply a matter of habit or teasing, but a vestige of friendship they’re both clinging to, and Bakugou himself was too afraid to admit to himself that he felt this way about it, so he mostly ignored it. (These are not original thoughts I am having here lol, this is a common interpretation. I’m just laying everything out like I said.) 

And now we turn to the current situation. Personally, I’ve been looking frantically back and forth between them wondering who’s going to break down first (Deku vs. Kacchan Part 3, this time it’s just a fight to get the other person to cry? ha.) Both have looked like they’re approaching a breaking point for some time. Also, I’ve addressed this before, but I think it’s significant that Bakugou is no longer wearing his mask with his hero costume, in contrast to Deku recently donning his own. It feels symbolic of Bakugou about to be upfront about how he feels.

The question is, what is it going to take to get Deku to accept help? If you ask me, Deku has dug himself so deeply into the I’m-doing-this-for-everyone-else’s-safety-and-smiles hole, no common sense argument can possibly reach him. By the end of 320, Deku’s mask is off, and we can see how desperate he truly is. But he has not cried, yet. I predict we’re going to see a bit more of his defiance, this time on full display on his face as the remaining class members and his other friends take their turns. But then I think Bakugou has to be the one to break down so Deku can witness his actions having the opposite effect he intended. People have been pointing out that Deku is currently ignoring Bakugou, and oof, that’s gotta be intentional. Regardless of what Bakugou says, it’s going to be wrapped up not only in his understanding of Deku’s self-sacrifice, but also the betrayal Bakugou feels at being ignored/left behind that ironically echoes his previous perception of being looked down on, as well as a need to express how much he cares about Deku before it’s too late. He must show that the two of them are inseparable because they both act to save each other without thinking, and both feel like losing the other would be like dying themselves. All Might may have been right when he told them they could learn from each other after Deku vs. Kacchan Part 2, but he didn’t fully realize that idea by making sure they stuck by each other for support and balance. 

I can’t wait to see what it’ll be like when they do finally get to that point, totally in synch and in tune with each other. They’ll be a powerful force no one is quite prepared for. Who knows when that will be, or even which chapter will be their big showdown, but I know the day is coming.

To speculate even further, I think the 2nd user is going to be really important really soon. And no I don’t mean to suggest that the 2nd user is Bakugou. But I do think their resemblance is key. Okay this is gonna be convoluted...

See how 2nd is the only one still standing? I think that’s symbolic of him withholding his quirk. Deku may not even know what it is at this point, let alone have unlocked it. Given that 2nd approves of Deku’s strategy at this point, it seems odd for him to withhold his quirk based on lack of faith. I think if his quirk was something that would help Deku in combat, he would have shown it to him already like the others did. So what if those gauntlets of his are support items that are meant to make up for his lack of a combat-oriented quirk, rather than to augment it? Mind you, I still have no idea what his mysterious power might be, but I’m dead set on it not being explosion-y. Regardless, I think 2nd looking like Bakugou is more about aiding some grand visual parallel, so! You know how 2nd and 3rd were probably intending to do away with Yoichi but 2nd changed his mind as soon as they made eye contact? This is really a long shot, but I wonder if 2nd’s quirk has something to do with that exchange. Maybe it’s something psychological, or some 6th sense about people he meets. So... in that way 2nd’s quirk could play a role in bkdk reaching a deeper understanding? Idk! But it could be significant at least that 2nd left Yoichi’s question about why he reached out to him unanswered. 

One more thing- while I was gathering screenshots I found this. I think “you’re the last one I’m telling” might be foreshadowing for Bakugou revealing his hero name to Deku and it being a Big Deal:

As for other lingering threads in the overall plot right now, such as the UA traitor, Stain, whatever Tsuyu is apparently about to do, All Might’s car maybe in the background of the last page of 320... man I have no idea. All I know is there’s literally 320 chapters’ worth of build-up to this confrontation that can’t be interrupted. 

See you next week <3

[ringmyheart]

Can I request Vin Jin boyfriend headcanons and some fluff? (You don't have to force yourself)

(This and the other vin jin rq were merged!)

Honestly the way I see it, it doesn’t matter if you’re a very calm person or outgoing person. No matter what this relationship is gonna end up being considerably chaotic

He ropes you into everything he does. Doesn’t matter if u r a design student or an architecture student or if ur on the opposite side of the school from him, u r practically in his class. Dating him is like signing a contract sealing away ur own life bc he makes it a point to be ALWAYS w u

In class he doesn’t gaf if the teacher has ur seat on the other end of class, he is somehow finding a way to sit next to u against ur will or not. And when the teacher moves u two away from eachother INTENTIONALLY bc of this, he is threatening whoever happened to sit next to u to trade seats w him. He will go as far as to dress up as them to make it look like they’re them to be next to u and he’s so dramatic ab it.... being away from u felt like u were star crossed lovers whom the world was fiercely against

And if UR against this cuz ur tired of getting in trouble in class, or if you reject any of his advances, he’s gonna be really, really, really offended. He will at first sputter and be kinda shy and embarrassed about it, before he goes “fine! Have fun on your own without me, the greatest thing in your fucking life!”

He move seats back and will glare at you periodically every five minutes to pavlov dog you so that every five minutes every day, even when he’s not there, you feel the burning stare of vin jin

If you’re his s/o, he’ll buy you a matching pair of sunglasses so ur the freshest looking couple around Seoul (they’re hideous and thick but he thinks u look fly)

The glasses don’t have nearly as many layers as his does for himself so u can see, and u wonder how he managed to make them just as bulky and if he did it on purpose to sabotage u. Like “did u make my glasses purposefully ugly so no one else will want me?”

U have to dodge a punch after saying anything like that ab his fashion decisions LMAOAO

He’s rlly proud of u two matching. With the glasses and anything in general. He’ll make you wear a jacket matching his, or the same shoes and he will stop people in the hall and be like “wait. Notice anything cool ab us today?? Cooler than normal??”

And when they don’t respond he boasts “that’s right!! Me and my other half r matching. Look at us and weep, losers.” He thinks u two look so good....... if ur enthusiastic ab wearing matching things too he is elated u have to pray that tomorrow he won’t show up w another “if lost return to Vin Jin” “I’m Vin Jin” pair of jackets or anything of the like bc it happens SO OFTEN

And on the topic of sharing when it’s cold he likes to share jackets and blankets w u. Ur desks r moved by eachother by vin jin himself and u two share one blanket over u and shiver bc he just likes it, sharing w u plus he’s slightly warmer. And yes if you guys had indivizual blankets you would be warmer, but u guys have to struggle together he doesn’t care what anyone says (yes even ur protests ur sharing that one blanket wether he has to wrap it around u himself and tear up the one u brought on ur own or what”

He is so blind in love that he cannot tell when u guys suck at stuff. Like if ur in the wrong he doesnt care ur RIGHT and he’s taking that to the grave. He can belittle u and call u out but if someone else says ur in the wrong it’s on sight

Will die protecting ur name even when ur the one who was genuinely wrong

He forces u to make a beat for him to rap to. He loves rapping and wants to enjoy it w u, so ur forcefed YouTube videos of how to beatbox so u can be his bgm and eventually u probably just start to enjoy it to

And u always start a beat and he starts busting out rhymes and it’s SO BAD. It doesn’t matter if ur good at beatboxing if vin Jin is on the track w u it’s gonna sound terrible he brings the quality down immensely but u two just cannot tell

Like after a two session ur like “omg... that was so good. We should go pro?” “Fuck yea we should we’re better than those posers” “we could rlly make it in the industry fr” no u absolutely could not

During the school festival, u sang with him and it was SO bad. Half the crowd is gonna have 2 be hospitalized but u two had FUN up on the stage

Like I said, he has absolute faith in u. All u do is right. If ur driving a car for the first time, he is going to be ur little hype man doesn’t matter if u suck. U hit a curb and he went “YES babe!! Ur killing it cant wait till u hit the road bby” Ur not allowed to touch a car for the next two years now bc he kept cheering u on when u we’re doing CLEARLY wrong things

On a plane u r looking for the bathroom like pensively and u see a handle and look back and r like “is this it???” And vin jin thinking u r all righteous will go “yea babe go for it” and u open it and u depressurizate the cabin immediately

Now both on like 5 no fly lists

He loves to do things with u, like I mentioned earlier, and things he wouldn’t do alone he’ll do w u. Like drawing alone?? Boring. Drawing w Y/N??!!! Who knows what could happen..... so much fun could ensue. Maybe he will draw u cutely. Maybe he will draw u so ugly u will be forced to engage in a fight.

He likes to play just dance w u and compete for the “greats/all star!” Little titles above, and it becomes like a Friday night ritual for u two to turn just dance on and just go at it. But sometimes he’ll get too intense and suddenly he’s actually fighting for the chance to beat u. Will trip u so u lose on purpose

He makes u listen to him sing and rap to u. And u try to leave and he hugs tightly and is like LISTEN IFS FOR U, DONT BE UNGRATEFUL and now u have to listen

He makes u a mixtape of songs he made himself and they are all considerably worse than “remember the times we had”. It’s uploaded on SoundCloud and all the comments r hate and u listen to it a lot bc u know he loves u sm he made u a mixtape ya ur gonna play that but everyone else hates it w a passion

Like the comments r like:

Daniel: well.... it’s definitely a song 😅 I’m glad you love (y/n) so much!

Duke: he’s not making it out the hood 😐

Zach: never let this man in a studio AGAIN

Mary: this should’ve stayed in the CD

(Y/N): love it! 😍

Zoe: kill your producer 💀

Mira: ...

He’s overprotective too

If someone looks at u for more than a second he’ll go “what?? U think she is hot, huh? I’ll kick ur ass fucking perv.... cmon babe let’s go”

Will throw his arm around u and streer u the opposite way of any potentially good looking ppl to keep ur eyes on him

Oh Daniel is coming?? What a coincidence u and vin Jin suddenly have to turn the corner to the other way of ur classroom for some reason

Eli is near?!!! Oh no u just got milk spilt in ur eye!! Oh no now he has to wipe ur eyes and u two have to leave the cafeteria whatever will he do

It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in u, he doesn’t have faith in other men. Like he thinks they r all competition, and doesn’t doubt ur loyalty rather doubts how good he can b for u

WILL beat someone up for u. If someone smokes while ur around suddenly his fists r swinging at them cuz even if u smoke or vape urself no one else can get that stuff in ur lungs but YOU or HIM!!

If ur crossing the street and a car almost hits u, it’s the cars fault and he’s kicking the license plate and cursing it out for almost touching u “stupid fucking piece of metal”

Is the type of boyfriend to call u when he knows ur in an Uber and be like “babe u got ur gun w u right?? Oh don’t forget ur BOMB and ur MACHETE!! Yeah just left the house I killed some ppl nbd haha anyways HRU what’s ur Uber driver like” so the driver of ur car won’t even think ab kidnapping u. He has got ur back even when u do not want it

He doesn’t want u to see his eyes, so he’ll tell you to look away so he can take his glasses off and look at u in full color in all ur glory but he never tells u WHY he’s telling u to look away u think it’s a weird thing of his, or he’s insecure ab his face which is partially true but really he’s taking his glasses off and just looking at u. Adoringly.....

He hates PDA. He loves PDA. Do u see his dilemma

Like he loves PDA but doesn’t want anyone seeing him vulnerable even u.... so he’ll hold ur hand and be like “EWWW WHAT R U DOING GET YR HAND OFF MINE”

If u take the lead THATS best bc he can blame it on u and it’s ur fault he HAS to lock fingers w u cuz u did it to him first and he has an excuse to touch u and v like u started this im just sending u ur own energy back 😤

The type to be just like blind, overwhelmed in love. Always thinks ab u, always wants to be w u, worries ab u a lot and frets over u without showing it.... he hates it and loves it to death. Despises it but wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world

Eats lunch w u in the cafeteria and if u sit w someone else u r the ultimate traitor and he will trash talk u to hide his hurt to Mary the entire lunchtime. Kinda possessive.... wants u to also only think about him

WOULDNT EVER fight u for real. Play fights occur VERY often, like pillow fights, tripping ur foot when u say a joke insulting him, grabbing ur collar but he would sooner die than lay a finger on u

Verbal fights happen a lot and if he ever like LOSES it he may lash out and almost hit u and follow thru. I don’t think he’d be able to catch himself that quickly, and if he ever did he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Literally until the day dies he will take it to his grave

He may not sputter out apologieswill just look at u incredulously and then at his hands because what had he done? What did he just do? To you???????? (Y/n))))?????? His (y/n)??? Light of his life?

Will apologize probably over text or through a note or call, and if u don’t respond he is consumed by regret and tries to find u instantly like runs back to ur place

If u forgive him he feels bad still, because does he deserve it? And he might just isolate himself for a bit bc he can’t face u and if it left a scar he is dead inside. It kills him, literally

I could go on w this but I’ll probably save it for another separate pair of hcs later 😭

If u guys ever break up he will fight for u again and won’t stop till ur back together like flowers in ur locker every day, chocolate give during lunch, etc. He wont ever give up hope that he can win u over again and be w u again. He would keep trying, when he wakes up his first thought is ur name in a cold panic bc he can’t rest easy till ur his again and he will try and show off and poorly serenade u and trash his price and be corny and cheesy to get u back

Will set up a performance w the school to let him rap w a mic during lunch for u and he’s saying bars like “(read in bad rapping voice w inconsistent beat) (y/n), love of my life, uh, without you I’d die, uh. Please won’t you take me back? Yuh, without you ima have a heart attack. (Wha!). (Y/n), love of my life, yeah, without you I’m in strife, yup! Please be mine again, (babe), I can never rest till then.”

If the embarrassment doesn’t make u take him back so he’ll pls stop, and when he stands up on the lunch tables to do a little performance doesn’t do it either, then the odd sincerity of his voice and pain in his look (even tho while rapping he sticks out his lower lip in a weird pout) definitely, hopefully will

U make everything worth it !! Truly the light of his life

I hope these were what u wanted, I just had fun w them and wrote stuff that came off the top of my head when I thought of VJ!! ❤️

[petrichormeraki]

The Blind c!Tubbo Post (Tubbost)

(TW: Scopophobia, Eye Scarring/Discussion, Ableism Mention, Death Mention)

SO! literally nobody asked but I would like to share with you all my headcannon for Tubbo after the Festival.

I'm one of the many who depict canon deaths as scarring left over after respawns, and my first depiction of Tubbo after the Festival was him with blast scars over his face, blinded by the firework shot into him at close range. I also depicted him with his eyes permanently closed in every art...

...which I have NOW learned is not actually how eye scarring works! (Or maybe burn scars specifically DO glue your eyes shut, I'm not a doctor, I've only done some digging.)

Then I started to wonder what Tubbo's eyes WOULD look like open after the Festival, since there would be no way his eyes made it unscathed from an explosion right between them. It was then I discovered macular corneal dystrophy!

Macular dystrophy is specifically the name for the corneal opacity caused by injury/scarring! And yes, while I know "cloudy eyes = blind" is an insulting caricature of blind characters in media, in this instance I think because the discoloration is a direct symptom from scarred blindness, it's not just another half assed able-bodied depiction (I hope).

(However; if I'm incorrect, I implore blind folks to let me know and I'll scrap it immediately 👍. Also, Tubbo's situation is very very specific, so I went more general with my research since I couldn't find anything about eye injury related to explosions specifically.)

So, I found how it'd look for Tubbo to be blind after his execution. The next thing was to figure out how getting around in canon could be explained with my fanon interpretation of Tubbo being completely blind.

This was obviously the bigger hurdle, since I was/still am an uneducated, inexperienced person with full sight. To tackle the task to have a blind interpretation of a character without being offensive or ignorant, I turned to @cripplecharacters, who were INSTRUMENTAL in educating me on disabilities. (MASSIVE thanks, y'all!! I would still be researching and not creating if it weren't for you :,3)

You can visit the blog for specifics, but what the mods have done was compile an FAQ about blind folks for those who genuinely didn't know anything about them (read: me)

It was through them that I learned the dos and donts of depicting a blind character in my work, hence why my final headcannon of Tubbo is a) completely able to independent and mobile, NOT infantalized, b) almost always has an earpiece to explain the surroundings of the SMP's constantly shifting environment so he can realistically move around without hurting himself, and c) IS NOT COMPLETELY INHIBITED BY HIS BLINDNESS, emotionally or physically.

Of course, there's always going to be things he can and can't do because he is now blind, but in the grand scheme of things, Tubbo adapted well to his situation after time to get used to it. Becoming blind did not depress him or confine him, and it certainly did not stop him in his journey of self growth as a character.

I struggled with this, as I didn't want Tubbo's disability to be obsolete in the long run; blindness is now a part of him, and it was important to me that that is shown; but I also didn't want his loss of sight to, well, completely cripple him. I know it's a slippery slope to maintain as someone who never has gone through or experienced any inhibition of sight other than run-of-the-mill glasses, and I know I definitely didn't learn everything about how to properly convey a blind character.

That said, I open the doors to educate* me if you wish! Tell me if I was offensive or incorrect in any of my above research! I want to be respectful over all else when I draw/write disabled folks.

Basically, TLDR: in my fanon interpretation, c!Tubbo is blinded after the Festival, and I did a lot of research to depict his blindness realistically and respectfully, and I made this post at 2:45 AM because 👉 insomnia 👉 so sorry if the wording is a bit funny in places.

*please only comment if you're a professional in the field of optometry/eye injury or a blind person yourself! To those who are full sighted and just as inexperienced; this literally cannot be explained by you, so please refrain :)

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

And so preparations for the final event begin! Let’s see if these being one on one matches helps me get through them a bit faster when I’m not having to transcribe quite so much action all at once.

[No. 32 - Smile, Prince of Nonsense Land!]

Another character profile to start out with! (I swear I’m gonna have to make a post compiling these once we’ve gotten all of them for class 1a… maybe run a comparison with the end of chapter profiles? Eh shrug.)

I swear, my instincts say that something that that tail should not be as flexible as it is because of its circumference. I know, I know, quirks, freaking magic, don’t think about it, but still. It’s a very straightforward quirk with a surprising amount of utility, and he makes full use of it. Good for him! Now, onto the chapter proper.

Kirishima is pretty hyped for a tournament, thinking about how they’ll be up in ‘that ring he sees on TV every year.’ Mina asks him if it was a tournament last year as well, but Sero’s the one to answer - the format’s always different, but most years involve some kind of head to head competition. (Apparently the year before theirs involved foam sword fighting, and now I’m incredibly disappointed we didn’t get to see that for this sports festival finale… would have been absolutely hilarious.)

Midnight holds up a box of lots, saying that match-ups will be decided by drawing lots. Once that’s done, they’ll move on to the festivities and then the tournament itself. It’s up to each of the sixteen finalists whether or not they participate in the fun, since she figures some of them would rather take a breather and save their strength. 

She starts to call for the first place team to draw lots, but Ojiro raises his hand, calling for her attention. He then states that he’d like to drop out, much to the shock of the others. Someone (I think Kirishima?) asks him why, since this is his chance of being noticed by the pros. Ojiro stats that he has no memories of the cavalry battle or anything that happened in it up until the tail end. And it’s probably his quirk that did that. 

Ohh, ominous. And Izuku’s really concerned for Ojiro here. Ojiro states that he knows this is a great opportunity, and he knows it seems stupid to throw it away, but this final turnament… everyone else made it with their own strength. But he’s standing here and he doesn’t even know how or why. He just can’t take it. 

Hagakure says that he’s thinking about it too hard, and that he can just show what he’s made of in the tournament. Mina agrees, saying that by that logic, she shouldn’t really be here either. Ojiro starts crying, hiding his face in his hand as he shakes, explaining that he’s talking about his pride here. He doesn’t think it’s right. (He also has no idea why the girls are dressed like that. Really, the entire cheerleader gimmick seems a bit… awkward, here.)

Izuku has no idea what to say. But class B’s Nirengeki does - kind of. He admits that he can’t remember anything either, so he wants to withdraw as well. This is a contest of skill, so letting someone who didn’t do anything advance… doesn’t that defeat the whole point of the sports festival? Isn’t it against the rules?

Kirishima starts to tear up, calling the two manly. Up in the booth, Present Mic announces the strange turn of events, while Aizawa wonders what Midnight, as the coordinator, will decide. Midnight’s ruling?

She likes it. The two are allowed to withdraw. Aoyama puts a hand on Ojiro’s shoulder and promises to win it for him. 

Midnight tells the kids that replacing the two will be members of team Kendo, who took fifth. Kendo replies that if it’s gonna be like that, then shouldn’t it be team Tetsu instead? Her team was immobilized pretty much the whole time, while team Tetsu were giving it their all to keep what they had until the very end. She then hastens to assure that they aren’t colluding or anything, it just feels right.

Tetsutetsu is in tears by the gesture. After a brief transition, it’s decided that Tetsutetsu and Shiozaki will join the finalists, bringing the number back up to sixteen. And with that, the match-ups can be drawn!

Izuku notes that if he wins his first match, his second’s gonna be against Shouto. Which I feel is very rude of him to just entirely discount the possibility of Sero winning the match. I mean, it’s an honest assessment, but STILL. Rude. Anyways, before his match with Shouto, he still has to face off against Shinsou, who has to be-

And speak of the devil, there’s the guy in question. He wants to know if he’s Midoriya Izuku, which startles Izuku. Izuku recognizes him from the declaration of war two weeks back. He goes to respond, only to be cut off by Ojiro’s tail over his mouth. Shinsou huffs and turns t head away, while Ojiro warns Izuku not to answer him. 

We get a few other reactions from some of the other students: Shouto contemplates how his match with Izuku will be sooner than expected, and that he wants Izuku to bring his best before he takes him down. Katsuki wonders out loud who Uraraka is, which startles an eep out of her, possibly for using her actual name. Mei approaches Tenya, chucking as she starts to ask him something. And Present Mic announces that they’re setting aside the tournament for the time being, and getting on with the thrill-a-minute festivities. 

There’s a few snapshots of what everyone is up to over the course of the side events: some of the non-finalists racing massive balls (probably rubber?) around the inside perimeter of the stadium, Ojiro talking to a stressed out Izuku, Tokoyami napping in a tree, Tenya drinking five (5) cans of orange juice, Katsuki doing… something, Shouto crouched down resting somewhere outside the stadium, and finally some students searching for items on the cards they were given. Oh, right, and the girls are doing cheerleader stuff, with Hagakure being the most enthusiastic, and Jirou and Momo as the least. 

Honestly, with that jump, Hagakure is either buff as heck, or Ochako is lending her a hand. 

While all this is happening, Izuku is narrating how some people preferred to psych themselves up, while others tried to relax. Everyone was dealing with it differently. And before they knew it, the time had come.

We come back into the narrative as Cementoss is just finishing up crafting the battle platform from scratch, which is honestly incredibly impressive. I guess his manipulation of cement includes being able to dry it out super fast. And really, with how it looks, he’s just showing off. Especially with those torches, like, those can’t have been made from cement. Were they just put there and the cement set around them? Did he use the cement to manipulate them into place? I have questions, sir.

As I said, showing off just a touch. 

Present Mic thanks Cementoss before asking the crowds if they’re ready. He talks about how the students have been through hell to get here, but now it’s time for the one-on-one tournament! They’ll only have themselves to rely on. Even if someone isn’t a hero, that saying holds true! You know it! Spirit, technique, strength, wisdom, and knowledge! Use them all and show us your best!

...They’ll only have themselves to rely on, even applied to non-heroes? Uh, wow. Talk about the underlying 𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓾𝓮𝓼 showing up here. I honestly can’t help but think that Izuku’s issues with heading off alone in the current manga arc has less to do with emulating All Might, and more absorbing all these small asides and comments from all the staff of UA. Which is fucking 𝕪𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤.

Anyways, while Mic’s doing his thing, Izuku is trying to calm himself before his match, only for Toshinori to come up to talk to him. He notes how it took a while, but Izuku’s finally getting the hang of using One For All, and gives Izuku a wonky thumbs up. Izuku is surprised to see his mentor there, but also corrects him - he doesn’t really have a hang of it, he’s still uneasy. He brings up his microwave visualization thing, and how he’s been trying to recall when he launched it at the villain, but it still feels dangerous. As if he could fall apart if he loses focus for a second, and, well, it’s like Toshinori saw. Given the level his body is at, even when Izuku controls it, it only gives a small boost in power. 

Toshinoir thinks on it for a bit, before reminding Izuku about that talk about giving it between zero and a hundred. As Izuku is now, heis body’s capable of about five percent. Izuku considers that, thinking that if it’s like that, then he’s just gotten lucky with everything. Toshinori gives him a few thwacks on the head and neck, telling Izuku that that’s because he’s always been trying his hardest, calling him a prince of nonsense. He also chides Izuku, saying he’ll never be a hero looking so mopey.

While Izuku recovers from the assault, Toshinori tells him to listen, before stating that especially when Izuku is feeling worried or scared, that’s when he needs to smile. Izuku’s come this far, so show some bravado, even if it’s fake. To punctuate this, Toshinori swells up into All Might, giving him another thumbs up. And I guess it kind of works as motivation, since Izuku seems less stressed?

Anywho, we finally get into the first match! Present Mic announces the two, with Izuku getting a comment about his making a weird face despite his good performance, and Shinsou getting a comment about not having done anything to stand out yet. The rules are simple - win by knocking out your opponent, immobilizing them, or getting them to say ‘I give up!’ Bring the pain! Recovery Girl’s on standby. And fight dirty if you must! ‘Ethics’ have no meaning here!

...this explains why Shinsou immediately went for such a low blow. 

Anywho, Cementoss makes himself a seat to watch from, so as to be prepared to stop the match at any time. Present Mic clarifies that going for the kill is a big no-no and will disqualify you, because a true hero’s fists fly only when in pursuit of villains. 

Shinsou starts talking, contemplating the ‘I give up’ option before asking Izuku if he gets it? That this battle’s going to test his strength of will. If you have any kind of vision for your future, there’s no sense in worrying about how you get there. Like that monkey, babbling about his stupid pride. 

Wow is Izuku pissed. Present Mic announces the start of the match as Shinsou rhetorically asks what kind of dumbass throws away a chance like this. Izuku rushes forward furiously demanding to know what Shinsou just said - only to stop dead. Shinsou calls it his win, while in the stands, Ojiro is stressing out, tail flailing as he snaps at how he’d warned Izuku about this. Toshinori is waiting at the entrance to the stadium, confused. 

Present Mic asks what’s wrong, the battle’s just started, show some spirit! Mere seconds into the match, Izuku is frozen in place?

And we end the chapter on that cliffhanger. What an introduction to Shinsou, and we have more to go in the next… one or two chapters, can’t recall. 

Anywho, see y’all next time for spooky quirk shenanigans! Can’t believe our first ghost sighting is about to happen. Fricken love ghosts.

[scribeofmorpheus]

Himmeløyne [28/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT WARNING (but like, tasteful smut)

A/N: Finally, an update! Sorry for the wait guys, truly, I honestly thought I would have finished this series before the Loki series premiered but I've been struggling with some personal, life-gives-you-lemons shit, and I was burned out--Bad! Anyway, hope you enjoy this little chapter.  ♥

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please

~Y/N

The great hall was filled with boisterous laughter—not prideful, but proud all the same, enamoured with the world in the moment. Clutter of wine goblets after every toast was like music. Fandral had occasionally burst out in song between each meal served, acting like the bard he was. Thor listened intently as Volstagg recounted the last couple of days while Hogun nursed his drink in silence, content.

“I think your dear prince is in need of saving,” Sif leaned closer to you, nudging her chin towards a far corner of the room. You blushed when she called him yours.

Loki was getting an earful from Heimdall. His ears were the faintest bit red—flustered, or perhaps embarrassed—yet, if one didn’t know what tells to look for, his discomfort would be impossible to deduce from simple conversation.

You watched the two of them converse in hushed tones. Loki caught your glance and gave a wink as reassurance.  

“Oh, I think he can handle himself,” you said to Sif. Then you saw Loki rub the back of his neck, an awkward laugh leaving his lips. Whatever Loki said had given Heimdall reason for pause. They both stood there, quiet, unsure of what to say, shifting from one leg to the other. “Or not.”

“They look like they’re being tortured, poor sods.” Sif took a sip of her wine, smiling into the brim. “Go. Save them. Again.”

You excused yourself from the table and walked over to the two men. You carried an extra wine goblet as a peace offering.

“Enjoying the festivities?” you handed Heimdall the goblet. Thankful, he swirled the wine around so he’d have something to do.  

“Immensely,” Loki said a little too enthusiastically. His toothy smile was forced, out of place. The awkward silence set in again.

“Oh, since the two of you are getting along so well, I’ll head back to the table. Volstagg is on his second boar, and Sif and I placed a bet to see if he’d finish it whole. My money is on half. Sif bet on a third.” You took a step back and both men protested. You had to resist the urge to laugh. Two gods, both immensely power, were terrified of awkward silences.

Heimdall cleared his throat as if he were about to say something. Loki reached for your elbow. “Please, stay,” he whispered.

You pressed your lips together to keep from smiling too wide. His look was pleading, desperate and you found it adorable. You nodded discretely, shooting him a wink of your own. Loki let out a sigh of relief in secret, keeping one step behind you, as if you were his shield. It was subtle, but every time there was a sudden noise, he’d flinch. You reached for his hand. His hand warmed to your touch, so did his disposition

The room was lively, a stark contrast to how tense and unwelcoming the palace had been a few hours ago.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” you said, toying with your wine close to your lips. “A day ago, this would have all seemed impossible.”

“A day ago I was being hunted by a figment of my mind. Strange is putting it mildly.” Loki’s hand squeezed yours as if he was trying to see if you were real. If everything around him was real. He emptied his goblet in a single swig. “Refill?” Loki took your goblet despite it being half-full and made his way towards the wine casks stacked against the wall.

“Get old enough, and little surprises you anymore,” Heimdall said, eyeing yours and Loki’s handfasting tattoos. “That, however, did. Is it what you wanted?”

 You searched your father’s face. There was concern present in his eyes, but his voice was soft. You looked down at your hand and then at Loki, and couldn’t help but smile. A fluttering filled your stomach. It had been a while since you’d been hopeful.

“It didn’t happen how I imagined it would, but, yes, this is what I want.”

Heimdall nodded, “That’s all I needed to know.”

“Really? That’s it?”

He smiled, “We’ve spent most of our time together fighting. Fighting the past, a king, magic. The last thing I want to do is be at odds with you. And, despite my reservations, if Loki makes you happy then I won’t stand in your way.”

“From where I was sitting, it looked like he needed some rescuing. What did you say to him?”  You watched Loki make his way back.

“Oh, that’s one secret I’m going to keep to myself.” With a smile, Heimdall kissed your forehead, ready to retire for the night. “Though, I can’t say that making him squirm didn’t amuse me. Now, I think it’s time I turn in for the night.”

“Goodnight, Father,” you said.

 He froze, momentarily, getting used to his new role, to the familiarity you were both beginning to find in your new relationship. Then, warmly, he said his goodbyes. His large frame disappeared into the bulk of the crowd and out the large doors.

Loki, more comfortable now that it was just the two of you, placed his hand on the small of your bank. His thumb brushed against the silky material there, his cheeks flush from the wine.

“Still in one piece?” you teased as he handed you your wine goblet.

“Barely,” Loki sighed in relief, shoulders slumping.

You set your goblet on a nearby table so you could run your fingers through his hair. “What did he say?”

He took you in his arms, fingers laced around the small of our back. “What any father would. That I should do my best to make you happy. And if I don’t, he’ll make sure I regret it. And I was very much inclined to believe him.”

Loki searched the room for someone, his eyes serious with thought.

“What is it?” you asked, selfishly wanting all of his attention to be on you.

He practically mumbled his next words, “I don’t see Baldrick anywhere.”

“Ah,” you smirked. “Your mother mentioned something about bribing him with sweets in exchange for a smile. I think she took him to the kitchen.”

Loki’s brow furrowed, but his smirk let you know it wasn’t agitation, it was reverie, the pleasant kind.

You cupped his cheeks to draw his gaze back down towards you, “Is something the matter?”

“N—No, everything’s fine. It’s just…there’s something about him. It’s like…” he shook his head, wisps of hair tickling his jaw. “I don’t quite know how to describe it.”

But you did, “Like you know him from somewhere.”

Loki nodded, that inquisitive look returning slowly. “Yes. Almost.”

A loud rumble, followed by some deafening laughter broke through the hall’s music. Loki flinched again, this time it was harder for him to hide his reaction. You walked towards the large doors, pulling him in tow. He didn’t protest, and from the look on his face, you could tell he was happier away from loud noises.

When the two of you were alone, strolling the hallways, hand in hand, you continued: “We’ve all felt it. It’s like we’re connected. But I don’t know-how, and he won’t tell me.”

“How did you find him?”

“That is a very long, very complicated story.”

Loki looked at the winding hallways, admiring the large columns and amber lighting. “It’s a nice night for a walk. We can take the scenic route.”

As you and Loki walked at a leisurely pace, stopping now and again to take in the sights. And once you started talking, it became easier and easier to keep going. Loki was silent, but you didn’t need him to say anything, you just needed someone to listen. It felt good, like a weight was being lifted, brick by brick. Before you knew it, you were stopped by a door, deep in the palace. It was your bedroom door. The two of you stood there, lost for words, and you could swear the air turned hot and thick. Instantly, you thought of the night by the balcony where you’d shared your first kiss. Suddenly, you felt the urge to close the distance between the two of you. You opened your mouth to say something, but Loki cut you off, his focus drawn to your intertwined hands.

“I wanted to thank you,” he said.

“For what?” you took a step towards him.

“Everything,” he looked you in the eye, squeezing your hand. “For being you. For… for being by my side when I needed you.”

You leaned close, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. At the contact, you felt a sliver of something electric, full of desire and a calmer sensation, close to contentment. Your stomach knotted, and you felt that familiar pull of your magic reaching out for his, anticipating that flutter to fill your stomach. You lingered in the kiss, waiting for his magic to touch yours, but the wait wasn’t ending so you broke away first, half confused, half disappointed. “Well, get used to it. Because it looks like you’re stuck with me.” You raised your intertwined hands to show off your linked tattoos.

The corner of his mouth twitched, that bashful smirk of his threatened to return. He kissed your forehead before taking a step back. “You should go in, rest. It’s been quite the eventful day.”

You couldn’t shake the thought that he was pulling away from you. As he motioned to turn around, you reached for him and said, “Stay with me.”

He tensed, mouth opening with no words behind them.

“I don't want to be alone tonight,” you said. “And, I think, you don’t either.”

“No. I don’t,” he admitted.

“Then why are you shutting me out?”

“Shutting you out?” he said the words as if they were an absurdity, then he laughed. “I could never dream of shutting you out.”

“I can feel this…distance between us, and I—”

A fevered rush filled your belly, the sensation you’d been yearning for and instantly, in a grand, sweeping motion, Loki cradled your face and kissed you. You could feel what he was feeling, and you knew it went both ways. You moaned into the touch and his reaction was equally carnal. His body pressed yours against the door and you could practically taste his desire, his lust. It was sweet and bitter all at once. Powerful. Glorious.

Your body reciprocated to his touch, tangling itself against him, one leg hooked over his hip. He held you steady, pressing the hardness of himself deeper. His tongue tasted of wine and you savoured it. A deep, pleasant rumble left his chest as he angled his mouth so he could further explore your own. Soon you were sharing more than emotions and phantom sensation, you were sharing thoughts, memories, fantasies. First was the memory of your first kiss on the balcony. It was tangled together with fantasy, of you beneath green, velvet sheets, moaning Loki’s name as he entered you. Then your own dreams melded in, the one of the snake and the cave. The rushing images were so potent that you could have sworn the fantasy actually happened.

Loki’s next moan was practically primal. You whimpered when you felt him harden against your lifted thigh. Your body started to ache, desperately. Loki held your tattooed hand against the door, fingers straining from the tightened grip. When the kiss ended, you both backed away, your lungs were so starved of air that you had to place your hand on your chest just to make sure you were still breathing.

“Your eyes are glowing,” he shocked out between breaths.

You placed your palm on your belly and squeezed, stifling a moan as you shut your eyes for a moment. “That was…” you swallowed, dazed by everything that was happening inside your body. “It’s never been this powerful before. This vivid. I can still feel you, feel us.”

“I hope that answers your question then.” Loki cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t shutting you out, Y/N. I wanted to do this right. Everything between us has happened so fast, too fast. But we have time now. Time enough to take things slow, to do this right.”

“Time has done nothing but keep us apart,” you licked your lips, still able to taste him. You shook your head, determined to take the next step. “I don’t want to do this right. I just want you. Besides, you can’t plead modesty now that I’m your betrothed.”

Loki stilled, a spark of mischief to him as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Betrothed? Till today, I never knew how beautiful a word it is.”  

You opened your door and tugged at his sleeve, “Stay with me.”

Loki crossed the threshold, one hand undoing the buttons of his coat. He had given you his answer.

 ~Loki

He had wanted to do things right, not to rush headfirst into a storm of lust and longing. But as soon as his foot was through the door, as soon as he saw that her bed looked warm and inviting, he was a slave to his desire. He had wanted this for so long, even before he met her, he just never knew how to put his feeling to words. He wanted companionship, someone to make him feel like he belonged. And in the chaos of them having known each other, Y/N had given him the one thing he’d been too proud to ask for: a home.

Loki loomed over her, enthralled with the way her heavy-lidded witch eyes were near-closed in anticipation of another kiss. He obliged, eagerly. His fingers deftly worked her corset out of its laces.

“I have wanted this for so long,” he said, fingers brushing against the soft skin of her belly as her gown fell to the floor. He rushed to lift her off the ground and bury his lips at the crook of her neck.

“I’m yours,” she whimpered, locking her ankles around his back. Her own fingers worked on his shirt. Every brush of her fingers against his chest made him shudder, his mind growing blank. He indulged himself in the taste of her skin, loving the way her body felt soft and right in his grip, rubbed flush against him.

“And, I, yours,” he devoted himself to her, with so few words. And then he pressed her into the mattress, felt the firmness of it give in to the weight of them.

Her room was dark, and with a single thought, his magic ignited the candles scattered in the room. It was an instant blaze. White, hot. For a brief second, he thought he’d set them both on fire, but it wasn’t literal, it was the intensity of their passion. He was drowning in her, and her in him.

The candlelight washed over her, making her look ethereal, imagined. Too beautiful with her plump lips, witching eyes and unfurled hair as wild as the forest. He loved how perfect she looked. He loved her. And by all the nine realms, he’d make sure she knew that with each kiss, each whispered, sweet reverence.  

 Her head was filled with mist, hot, sticky and in a haze. He could feel her spinning under her eyelids. He could feel what he was doing to her nerves, setting them alight, flooding them with pleasure. It wasn’t enough, he wanted to give her more.

His thumb found the mound of her breast. With such simple contact, they grew hard and tight, just like his cock. She let out a soft cry, back arching so they could stay connected. He brought his mouth to her swelling breasts, rolling her nipple between his thumb and index finger. She tangled her hands in his hair, and Loki imagined her doing so when he was buried between her thighs, tasting her, enjoying the power of her surrender.  

“Let go,” he said, feeling her fight the tension building insider her. Their magic was completely linked, overpowering, and he knew she was afraid of how all-consuming their bond had become. In truth, he was too. It was a brilliant mix of hedonism and devotion. “Lose yourself to me, like I have to you.”

He pressed her hands flat on the bed as he brought his lips back to hers. She trembled beneath him, not bothered to bite back every moan. Something glorious was brewing in her belly, he trailed a kiss from her lips to the scar on her chest to her navel, admiring how their magic chose specific places to bloom. For her, it was her belly. For him, his chest. Then, gloriously, she came undone, gasping as her eyes blurred over, pupils dilated and dark. He nearly followed after her, gripping the sheets to stay grounded, present. He took a moment to steel himself as she began to remember the world around her. Yet, a part of her was still shrouded, hidden from him. A dark spot in a sea of light. Despite that, Loki had more to give her, and he was glad she wasn’t done either.

He rolled off the bed and discarded the last of his clothes. Y/N reached up for him, eyes just shy of open as she called out to him. He stirred at the sound of his name from her lips, husky.

“Say it again,” he pleaded, spreading her legs wider as he kneeled between them.

“Loki,” she barely managed to finish before her breath hitched.

His tongue was at her core, inside her. He had to keep his left hand balled tightly to keep from touching himself, from alleviating how desperately his body wanted to be joined with her. She rocked against his tongue, fingers knotting in his hair just like he’d imagined earlier. He let out a deep noise that was barely man.

She gasped, head rolling back as she struggled to keep centred, “That feels—”

Loki knew how it felt, he was certain he wouldn’t be able to fight the pleasure of this rush if he brought it on. Slowly, regretfully, he got off his knees and laid over her again. With what strength she had left, he rolled him onto his back and he let her, finding a new shock of delight at her dominance.

The pressure was immense for him now, as she straddled him, slick and ready.

“Are you sure?” he asked with the last shred of his willpower.

She sucked on her lower lip in, responding by wrapping her fingers around his cock, gasping as she guided him into her. Loki’s mind flashed bright with lightning, and he almost rushed to his release a second time. When they were connected, completely, he let her set the pace, bracing her body by the hips, using his strength to keep her shaking legs steady. From there, everything became frenzied. They found a rhythm, and Loki smiled every time she cried out his name. He enjoyed their endlessness. They were both eager, excited to tumble off the cliff together, joined, as one.

“I love you,” he said faintly as he filled her.

Then everything went brilliant. His head whipped to the side, climax sparking in his peripheral like stars. She shuddered, bracing his shoulders like a lifeline. He watched her climax again, swearing to remember this moment forever. Always.

“I love you more,” she whispered back.

 Sometime in the night, Loki heard Y/N stir and get out of bed. He spread out over the bed, body seeking her heat. His body and mind were both spent, too spent to even open his eyes. Time moved both fast and slow, and, eventually, he sensed her return to him, curled under his arm, and he felt complete again.

To be continued...

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[ptergwen]

last christmas

w/c: 2.0k

warnings: a few descriptions of dizziness

summary: someone might be able to get you back into the holiday spirit

a/n: hi hi hi i’m really excited about this :,) i’ve had the idea for a while and i like where it’s going! it’s based it off of the movie last christmas and this is only part one, so if it feels a little slow that’s why AND on that note i hope you enjoy

━━━ *:･。.

“you’re late,” harry comments as the coat room door bursts open. he’s not wrong, but he doesn’t have to announce it. you slip behind the counter while tying up your apron. “only ten minutes. besides, we’re never busy this early.” he presses his lips together and grabs a large cup.

that’s the face he makes whenever you say or do something stupid. you’ve learned a lot about harry in your year of working together. he’s a pretty laidback guy. funny, too. you’d consider him a friend and not just your coworker. the only time he isn’t chill is when your coffee shop has what you like to call its rush hour.

it’s in a pretty prominent area in london, and it gets packed every afternoon. people like to pop in for a muffin or some tea on their lunch break. with it being christmas time and all, the shop is way more chaotic than usual. the seasonal flavors clearly draw a crowd. you take that as a compliment since you came up with a few of them.

the point is, harry can get stressed and pretty mean. you’re afraid he’ll explode if you ask him a question sometimes. he turns super red. but, he also knows more than you do. he’s had to fix countless machines you’ve almost broken. you two make an interesting team. it’s just you and harry who work mornings.

your mouth drops open when you see the line of people squished into the shop. “oh, shit,” you whisper to yourself. harry hears it and hums smugly. “rush hour came early. get out there.” you quickly take your spot at the register. a man with a fuzzy red sweater and judgy look steps up. “hi, sorry for the wait. what can i get started for you?”

the rest of your morning is exactly the same. you deal with the crabby customers, harry makes the drinks. it gets better once your other coworkers clock in for the day. orders get done faster, and you have someone to joke around with from time to time.

you and harry eventually switch because he’s bored of making hot chocolates. you’re in charge of drinks while he rings people up now. it’s not too bad at first. all you have to do is dump some mixes into water and call names. then, everyone starts shouting at you. the drinks gets harder, you keep messing up, and customers aren’t happy.

harry is about to tell you off when he sees you stumble. he rushes to your side before you hit the ground. you grab his arm with an apologetic smile. “thanks.” “is it...” you nod, not wanting him to finish his sentence.

he’s your only coworker you told about your accident. it happened last year, almost a full one to date. you got this job a few months after. harry has always been understanding of it all, and he accommodates you however he can. you’re grateful to have his support.

“i’m just a little lightheaded. i’ll be fine,” you wave him off. he clicks his tongue. “you can’t stand if i let go of you.” you’d try to prove him wrong, but you don’t feel like falling on your face in front of all these people. “go take your break, y/n,” harry says softer this time. you give in, letting him take you to the coat room.

━ ❆

it’s finally the end of the day. your shift ended fine, and now you’re walking out with harry. you’re laughing at something he said inside. you pull your coat up around your face, smiling as you say your goodbyes. harry looks off to the car you assume is his before returning it. he waits until you’re out of sight to get into the passenger seat.

“who was that?” tom asks before harry can even shut his door. “y/n. we work together,” harry replies casually and buckles his seatbelt. the car engine is the only thing holding off silence. he raises an eyebrow at his brother.

“why do you ask?” “dunno. looks like you’re friends,” tom says quietly, pulling out of the spot he parked in. “you haven’t mentioned her.” “i have. you’re never home when i do,” he deadpans. tom drums his fingers on the steering wheel as they stop at a light.

there’s that void begging to be filled again. harry gives him a small smile. “thanks for picking me up, by the way. you’re cheaper than uber.” “does that mean i’m getting paid?” tom looks over at him. “joking. anytime, bro.”

harry can tell he’s waiting to bring you up again. all he did was look at you, and he’s falling. he’s never been subtle about his crushes. harry knows the two of you would get on well, but he’s not sure if you can handle a relationship right now. this year hasn’t been easy for you. you should be focusing on your health, not his tool of a brother.

at the same time, you could use some cheering up. you haven’t sang along to one christmas song playing at the shop. tom gets so into christmas every year, so maybe some of his festivity could rub off on you. it’s possible to work on two things at once, right? you’ll be happy and healthy for the new year. that’s all harry wants for you.

he wouldn’t mind the same for tom, either.

“she’s in all day tomorrow,” harry sighs. tom scrunches his face up in the side mirror. “who is?” “y/n, div. i knew you were going to ask.” there’s no denying that one. “right. i’ll stop in for a drink.”

he smiles about it the whole way home.

━ ❆

the next day is just like the last one. harry seems more on edge than usual, but you don’t know what that’s about. he does let you stay on register today so the chances of you passing out are lower. that all changes when your next customer walks in. you recognize him immediately, even with a scarf covering half his face.

what the hell is tom holland doing in your café? he pulls his scarf down and walks up to place an order. you sort of forget how to act. “you... you’re...” you stammer, eyes wide on him. smiling, he presses a finger to his lips. all he wants is a coffee, and you’re about to get him mobbed. you raise your hands in defense and focus on the register.

“sorry. can i get you anything?” you try again, lowering your voice. he’s still smiling. “sure, thanks. i’ll try an iced peppermint mocha.” a smile takes over your own face. “cool, i suggested that one.” you punch it into the register, keeping your eyes on tom. “i’ll bet it’s good, then. i trust your judgement.” he sounds genuine but teasing at the same time.

“hey, harry.” tom waves at him while he makes something in the blender. harry unenthusiastically waves back before getting to work again. you turn to harry with your eyebrows knitted together. “you know each other?” “really well. we’re brothers,” tom replies, your eyebrows now raised to the top of your head.

“what? how come you never told me?” you almost yell at harry. he awkwardly dumps the contents of the blender into a cup. “it never came up.” “you don’t talk about me, baby bro?” tom jokes, getting his card out. you give harry one more look before turning back to him. “oh, don’t worry about it. it’s on the house,” you dismiss him.

“he’s a multimillionaire, y/n. i think he’ll be fine,” harry chimes in. “family discount,” you decide. tom chuckles and shoves his wallet back into his pocket. “you’re a funny one. can i make it up to you somehow?” his eyes lock with yours. you feel fluttery, like your heart is going to jump out of your chest. there could be a few reasons for that.

“um, can i get your autograph?” you murmur out. “easy. do you have something to write with?” he watches you scramble to get a piece of paper. you pull a pen from behind the counter and hand them both to him. a line is starting to form, but you can’t even pretend to care. there are more important things going on.

harry starts making tom’s drink while he signs the paper. he leans on the counter, his tongue poking out. he’s so sweet for doing this. your alarm goes off before you can tell him that. you quickly shut it and peek over the register to see. harry comes up to you.

“isn’t that for your medication? you should probably go take it,” he says so only you hear. you shrug a shoulder. “i set it a few minutes early. i’ll be fine.”

“here we go.” tom grins and hands you the paper, then the pen. you put it down with another smile before looking over his signature. you’re confused when you don’t see one. instead, he wrote down a bunch of numbers.

it can’t be...

“it’s my number,” tom explains, glancing over at harry for a second. he scoffs and puts the lid on his drink. “i figured you’d like it more than my terrible cursive.”

your whole body feels hot. whether it’s from putting off your meds or getting hit on by tom holland, you’re not sure. you wouldn’t mind the latter, though. it’s the safer of the two. in all seriousness, the fact that he has any sort of interest in you is pretty insane.

“wow, for real? thank you.” you look at the piece of paper in your hands, then at tom. “does this mean i can text you?” he’s practically beaming at you. “or call.” “tom,” harry calls from the pickup counter. he rolls his eyes for good measure. “i guess your drink is ready,” you laugh out. tom adjusts his scarf again.

“i guess it is. i’ll talk to you later?” you hold up the piece of paper. “that’s what this is for.” he breathes out a laugh and turns to go. you’re about to call up the next customer, but he looks back at you. you shake your head. it’s going to be impossible getting through what’s left of your shift. “enjoy.” tom nods confidently. “i will.”

━ ❆

the first thing you do once you get home is call tom. your roommate is out with friends, so you’re spread out on the couch. all the lights are off to help the headache you got. with your luck, you’ll wake up with a migraine. you’ve become too familiar with nursing those. it’s given considering everything that happened.

tom picks up on the third ring. you hold your phone to your ear and sit up. “hello?” he asks sternly. you cringe at yourself for not texting him who you are first. “hi, it’s y/n. i probably should’ve texted.” his tone softens. “no, you’re fine. i was waiting for you to call.”

“were you really?” you lay your head back on the arm of the couch. he hums proudly. “tom holland was waiting for me to call him?” “he was.” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “he really enjoyed your conversation earlier.” sighing, you look at your reflection in the tv. “i did, too. i don’t think harry could say the same.”

“he hates having me around. i’m embarrassing, apparently,” tom laughs at his brother’s behavior. you press your lips into a pout. “is that why i’ve never heard about you?” “probably,” he confirms. it seemed weird that he wouldn’t want to tell the world his brother is spider-man. then again, harry isn’t like that.

“that’s nice, though. it’s like i’m the same me before the movies,” tom lightens the mood. “not that i know you, but i feel like you are,” you agree with a small smile. he’s grinning at his phone. “speaking of not knowing me, when are you free?” he smoothly transitions to the asking you out part. you were hoping you’d get there.

“saturday. why?” “i was wondering if you’d want to go out with me.” you hold the phone away from your face and silently squeal. tom didn’t need to witness that. “that would be fun, yeah.” “anywhere special you want to go?” he asks. he’s hoping there isn’t because he already has a place in mind. you actually don’t.

“surprise me.”

-

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