#that God’s glory and my happiness would be one common interest because he is changing my heart to want what he wants

[audreythevaliant]

[spyoikawa]

still on that saiki k brainrot so hear me out-

metori, saiki, teruhashi, aren and hairo with an s/o who really loves to bake/cook-

no thoughts just Reader learning how to make coffee jelly for saiki (like maybe they make him a tower of coffee jelly for an anniversary or his birthday-). no thoughts just Reader cooking something for metori who pretends to not want to eat it cause it’s ‘peasant food’ but ends up really enjoying their cooking. no thoughts just cooking/baking date with teruhashi. no thoughts just teaching aren how to cook/bake and having a food trade with him, bringing him lunch/a snack to school. and no thoughts just hairo hyping Reader up while they cook/bake and making stuff for him to bring to class rep meetings-

thank you! <3

the excitement I got got I saw teruhasi- i don't see a lot of writing for her and I get happy when I get to do less than common things! Thanks!

I'm running low on creative juices, so please I hope you don't mind if I use the exact scenarios you suggested 💀

Note: some of the things I wrote felt really rude so please don't mind the tone tags in parentheses, also i have not edited this yet

Saiki, Teruhasi, Hairo, Aren, and Saiko with an S/O who can cook/bake

♡romantic♡

Saiki Kusuo (italics = saiki telepathy)

Although it was undeniably tasty, your boyfriend's obsession with coffee jelly was not only getting out of hand but also quite expensive-

I mean he spent 3,000 yen for one serving-

But yanno what it's ok, coffee jelly is easy to make, and this gives you an excuse to hang out (not that you need one)

"Ok Ku, i had an idea"

I like it, just make sure you teach me how to do it too

"Rude. I wasn't finished"

You did in your head

As endearing as it could be sometimes, Saiki's mind-reading could be a pain occasionally

You wound me.

"Good. (/j)"

After a long debate over recipes and serving sizes, there it was, in all its glory, your first batches of coffee jelly

it was heaven

You did end up sharing the recipe with him, but it still became a little tradition to make the coffee jelly together

It just tastes better that way :)

Kokomi Teruhashi

In the midst of your TV and cuddles date, Kokomi huffed and turned off the TV

But of course it was rude to just turn off the TV, so she offered to play a board game instead

You did play with her, but your curiosity was begging as to why she wanted to change the activity

"Hey Kokomi, this game is fun, don't worry... but why'd you turn off the TV so suddenly?"

"Oh, it was nothing! I just thought you would like this game, and I wanted you to enjoy yourself more!"

Now, that's the answer the most perfect girl in the world would give

But Kokomi is still human, there's gotta be something wrong

You spent a while thinking to yourself about what you were watching, you two agreed on a documentary, then after the documentary, the channel played a cooking show with a guest baker/cook Makoto Teruhashi- oh.

So that was it

At the end of the round, you stood up and offered your hand to pull up Kokomi with you.

"Hey, wanna make a bet?"

She looked up with a bit of curiosity.

"I bet you, I can make your favorite dish, far better than Makoto can"

She smiled a bit, "sure!"

Her favorite food was simple, so you taught her to cook it and added in some other things just for fun (and so she can't recreate it without your secret ingredients)

Now you guys have cooking dates often and always find ways to spice up foods (and beat Makoto at whatever he was doing on tv)

Hairo Kineshi

my thoughts and prayers go to you

we all saw what happened when he tried to make crepes

but in his mind, it was a learning opportunity

You guys were taking an after-school stroll, the weather was really nice, it would be a shame if you two just went home and did nothing. Walks like these tend to get sentimental and nostalgic, so your conversation subconsciously started to drift towards school life.

"And do you remember that time we had to get kuboyasu, kaido, and nendo to play on a baseball team? Oh my god thank god it didn't go too poorly, that one player really pulled through at the end..." you laughed out

"Haha I do remember that, I can't believe we got them to play, it really could've gone worse" He smiled as he remembered that day, but then his eyes drifted up to a bakery across the road. "Speaking of poor experiences..."

after he explained to you he and kaido's crepe disaster, you couldn't help but tease fun at him for a bit

but you did agree to teach him more about cooking and baking

he's a bit too passionate about cracking eggs, but hey, at least you can work faster

after many, many burnt crepes and pans, there it was, a fallen appart, incorrectly folded, but still a properly cooked crepe sat there in all its beauty

it kinda looked like this

Although he does learn many different things with you, crepes will be the thing he makes over and over again, even when he has it down to a science, just because it's the first thing you taught him, and he will keep that sweet memory forever (get it. sweet? Cause crepes? Im funny i swear.)

Aren Kuboyasu

He actually knows how to cook pretty well

He's not really sure when he picked up cooking, its kinda just stuck around, but he enjoys it, it makes him seem more goody

and he can treat you :)

I will die on my "aren lives for the most basic/domestic activities hill"

cooking with him is always an experience, he will play music in the background, and pull you aside to dance at random times

also does that really hot thing where he stands behind you, reaches around to hold your hands, and basically has you in a cage while showing you how to do something

it's one of those spontaneous things to do, if there's nothing else to do, might as well make something to eat

firm believer in "if you have to eat to live, you might as well eat delicious foods" so he will always try out new things with you if its healthy and tasty

"bab look at this show" you called out from where you were sitting, there was a cooking show/food documentary on, and it was showing a special food. "it says this chicken has a secret sauce they dip it in"

he walked over to the tv and watched it for a couple seconds, thinking a bit.

"...wanna figure it out?"

"yes. I'll make the chicken if you figure out the sauce?"

"deal."

will you ever know if you got the secret sause? Nope, but you did figure out a chicken recipe that is good as hell

he probably writes down all the recipes you "invented" together for safekeeping and so he can return to it later, but he refuses to show it to anyone

Saiko Metori

as much as I love him, we all saw in that one episode how picky he is while eating, and is probably a bitch to please while cooking/baking

so after a lot of convincing, you got him to sit in the kitchen with you so he can watch you bake for the two of you

in reality, all you have to do is give the dish a fancy rich-sounding name, you just have to be really careful with what you say

like this 💀

you decided to bake for him today, baking is a lot more "by the book" than cooking, so you thought he would take a bit of comfort in knowing it was done in a professional way

"alright tori, so I think I'll make a heavy pastry made with fine cacao and extracts, baked into a rich dessert for a fine sweet palette"

"you're making brownies aren't you"

"🧍‍♂️"

Told you, you have to be as specific as possible

He does eventually get interested in what you're doing though, as he never really sees his personal chef cook, and wants to help you by the end

He really did enjoy it! It quickly became one of his favorite treats

But funny enough, no matter how many bakeries he tried or how many times his chef tried, they never tasted the same

(you put in special spices as your own little mark on the treat)

so he ends up having you over for more cooking dates

Which he really does enjoy btw

as a tsundere he will look all annoyed and probably call you a plebe, but these are his favorite types of dates

[the-voltage-diaries]

You’re my Mocha Lisa - Eisuke Ichinomiya

Disclaimer: Coffee Shop AU. Also has shameless self insertion. It’s basically an indulgence on my part lmao.

Word count: 1860

Author’s Note: Congrats on the 1K, @leoamber66​​​! Here’s a li’l something as my congrats~ Also, thank you @akaiiro-yume​ for proof-reading this at like the last second LOL. P.S. Thank you for just like... existing. You pulled me out of my writer’s block every time, leove. Every time I couldn’t write, I remember you doing something - ANYTHING - which made me wanna write for you. And for that, I’m eternally grateful. Love ya.

“Are you certain?” I ask, dubious. I raise my brows at the woman standing on the opposite end of the counter for good measure while I wait for a reply.

Yuki - and I know her name not because I’m a stalker but because she comes here every morning, just saying - looks from her thoroughly rummaged purse up at me and blinks once.

Cute. Very cute.

“Absolutely,” she nods just as her fingers start sorting through the bills again. This woman has no idea how badly I hoped she was kidding, does she.

“So... a grande cup of black coffee. Will that be all?” I might seem all cool and calm on the face, but on the inside, it’s like I’m praying to her conscience to at least order a chocolate pastry to go along with this disaster. Or like a cookie. Heck, I’ll even give it to her for free.

“Yep.” She looks up again and smiles, and I can’t help but notice the way her heels don’t really do much to hide how adorably short she is. I find it almost endearing, the way she has to look up at me every time she needs to say something. It makes me want to ask her more questions just to get her to do that.

Wait. What am I even thinking? Focus on the damn order, Ichinomiya.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking,” she begins while handing me the change, “how long have you been working here? I think I’ve seen you around ever since I started coming to this place.”

My brow twists into an uncertain furrow at that, not used to receiving any personal questions from her. I pause, tearing away her copy of the receipt, and take a glance around to make sure there’s nobody else to whom the question could have been directed. Much to my relief, there aren’t any other customers waiting in line, possibly because it’s still very early in the morning and the cafe is pretty quiet, to interrupt what could potentially be our small conversation.

But apparently, I take too long to reply and Yuki takes it as a sign that she’s tried to cross an invisible boundary. “You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable, of course,” she hurriedly adds, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear in embarrassment. 

“That’s alright. And to answer your question, I’ve been working here since the place was established,” I answer honestly, without missing a beat. But god do I hope she doesn’t try to probe any further into what I said. That’d be a little embarrassing.

“That long? Wow...”

I scoff quietly, smiling. While she bites her lip with her eyes swimming in a pool of faraway wonder, I turn around to get started on her coffee. A certain calm descends between us, with just some light music playing in the cafe.

“It must be nice,” she mutters a little later, mostly to herself before speaking louder. “Being the only employee here, I mean. It’s so quiet in the morning. Feels calming, doesn’t it?”

“Mm-hmm.”

On the inside, I wince at the nonchalance of my response. I’d have loved to correct her that ‘No, I’m not the only employee here,’ but that’d make the explanation a little awkward.

Why? You’ll come to know soon.

After that, we fall into another quiet bubble of our own, and soon enough, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts along with the air, touching every little cranny of the space it manages to cross.

If only I could add some damn milk into this bitter concoction...

Once the black coffee is read in all its biting glory, I pick up the marker to write her name on the cup. “Oh! It’s Yu-”

“Yuki, right?” I cut her off, smirking. “My memory is not so bad as to not remember the name of the one person who recites it every morning to me, you know?”

“O-oh... right..”

One glance in her direction is all it takes for me to catch an embarrassed red pop across her cheeks, and she bites her lip adoringly, directing her gaze away. I know I’ve said it before, but I find this woman absolutely adorable and her blush is probably the icing on the cake.

So, I decide to prod a little further.

“I hope you find it in you to actually finish this today,” I wink, handing her the warm cup. “It does take some effort to make, after all.”

“What... What do you mean?” She questions and I don’t miss the way her blush deepens. She knows what I’m talking about.

“Mm, I wonder.”

“Hey, I like black coffee, okay!”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well,” I shrug, “I don’t exactly blame you.”

She gives up and huffs - of course, I find it endearing - and sits down at a table nearby, taking out her mobile to text someone - it better not be a boyfriend- wait why do I even care - with the drink in hand. I know what’s about to happen in less than a second and I keep an eye on her, thoroughly prepared to savour every second of it.

Yuki takes a sip of her drink and, almost immediately, makes a face like that of Baby Yoda provided he sucked on a lemon. It’s weird and shows blatant disgust. “Pfft,” I scoff, amused, but not loud enough for her to hear me.

The reason why I predicted this would happen is because she has been coming to the cafe and ordering black coffee every morning for the last three weeks, but every single time I catch her making weird faces as she sips it. Every single one of those times when I leave to check my mails, I come back to an empty cafe with a half-finished cup of coffee in her place.

I wonder, is she trying to look mature or something?

I’m still watching her quietly but reluctantly sip her drink when the door chimes, welcoming a new customer. The woman walks straight past the order station and to Yuki’s table once she spots her and sits down, sending a quick greeting her way.

Oh, so the one she was texting earlier was a friend.

Wait, why do I care again?

“So,” the friend begins, and I can’t help but overhear what she says. “Have you asked him out yet?” At that, my ears perk up. Asked who out?

“Would you be quiet!” Yuki whispers, glaring. She’s all fidgety and blushing.

“You haven’t, huh?” the friend smirks. “I saw him, he’s hot. Be quick, or he’s gonna be off the market soon.”

“Zela!”

“I’m being honest.”

“I know...” I pretend to wipe some of the glasses kept nearby when I catch her sending a quick glance my way, but my eyes or ears don’t divert their attention. “But what if he already has a girlfriend?”

For some reason when I hear the touch of desperation in Yuki’s voice, I feel a mild jealousy bite at me. After all, who IS this guy she wants to ask out?

“His name was Eisuke, right?” the friend, Zela, asks and for a second, I cease all movement. 

Was that my name I heard?

“Shut UP, he’ll hear you!” Yuki whisper-shouts, and I wait with bated breath for her to continue. “But.. yeah.. that’s the name.”

“Damn, the name’s just as hot.”

“ZELA!”

“WHAT?! I’m just appreciating the goods. Unlike a certain someone.”

The friends continue their banter, but I’m much too distracted by what Yuki said earlier to pay heed to it. My name isn’t so common, and I’m about a hundred percent sure I heard my name.

Does that mean she wants to ask me out?

The thought makes me smile, and I register the reason why I didn’t want her to have a boyfriend. I’ve been taking her order every morning, making an attempt to see her every single morning since the first time three weeks ago because I want to see her, even if it’s for a handful of minutes. I find her cute, and I definitely would want to see more of that gorgeous blush swim across those supple cheeks.

Wait, is that creepy? I hope not.

The realisation that she has an interest in me is a happy one, and I scoff at myself, waiting for her friend to leave her for like ten seconds for me to make use of this opportunity.

And apparently, the universe agrees because just then Zela gets up and walks over to the restroom, finally leaving Yuki alone. I quickly brew another cup of coffee and add the milk I’d been dying to add with three cubes of sugar. I walk over to her with the cup in hand, and she looks up in confusion. “Allow me to treat you to a much better coffee. Today, 6:30 PM in front of the Tres Spades.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” She mumbles and she absentmindedly grabs the cup.

“I’m asking you out on a date. That’s what’s going on,” I wink, and just then the cafe door chimes for the second time. "I better see you there, Yuki.”

“O-oh...” Another wave of red colours her cheeks before she takes a deep breath and looks at me, right in the eyes. “You will see me there, Eisuke,” she smiles.

“Glad to hear it.”

I turn around with a smile and see Zela coming back out of the restroom in my periphery. My gaze shifts to the person who walked into the cafe just moments ago, and I acknowledge him with a nod when I realise it’s another employee.

“Good morning, Mr. Ichinomiya,” he mutters, bowing his head a little.

“Wait, Ichinomiya?” 

The split confusion makes me look down at the ground with a smirk while I untie the apron and set it on one of the tables. I stay still, patiently waiting for the dots to connect in her head.

“Isn’t this cafe owned by the Ichinomiya Corp-”

Heh. About time.

“Oh god. Are you THE Eisuke Ichinomiya?” She whispers, shock lacing her tone like the most avid of blues. “Like, the owner of this place?” At that, I turn my head to look at her.

“Welcome to Ichinobeanya. I hope to see you again soon.” My lips curve up in a half-smile when I see how awed she looks, and without wasting another second I grab my jacket and make my way towards the door, sincerely hoping to see her again in the evening. “Don’t forget your promise.”

I’m pretty sure I hear her mumble, “I won’t...”

And it’s when I’m almost out of the door and onto the street when I think I hear Zela say “He gave you this new coffee, didn’t he? See, I’ve been telling you, you don’t need to drink that yucky black coffee to impress him!" 

An embarrassed "Shut up Zela!" is the last to reach my ears as I finally close the door behind me with a laugh, looking forward to the evening with an excitement akin to that of a child.

[greyswritingagain-ohhell]

𝙾𝚑, 𝙷𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛

*SCREAMING IN INSANITY*

Who would’ve thought, right? Though this was his job. Theatrics has been in the family for years, a forbidden reputation untouched, unbroken. And oh, there was many categories to choose from for his generation. And him? He chose cosplay. Pizzazz and extravagance were not his area of diligent expertise.

Romania Sanders [Roman MtF] x Virgil Sanders

Word: 1,168

TW: Cursing, TikTok (i guess?). Msg if there is more.

"God, he’s pretty…” Romania can only coo an arbitrary swoon as the screen flashed in front of her, porcelain skin glimmering with the added shinning filter.

On the diamond glass screen, a boy of 26. His pitch hair was tucked neatly into a wig, synthetic brown locks tousled boyishly over his handsome features. A grin adorning his lips as the silver of the moon and the brown of the oak were hidden behind two artificial autumn irises. A black button up had fit like a glove over his upper body, clinging to his torso, stretching over his chest like a godforsaken daydream. A black leather cord stretched around his neck, the ring hanging from it standing out like a gem against his skin.

She sighed heavily, a raging forest fire exploding through her radioactive heart. The hail of pastel candy hearts and withering ruby red rose petals overtook the race of her common sense, one in the name of love, the other standing in logic’s title. Her measly excuses of pursuits for him are inept and almost pitiful, the fabric of her conscience merely tulle and lace as it slowly though surely pushed her off the marble balcony of rationality. She’s helpless. She’s helpless for him and him only.

Oh, to love a man living in a social platform on your phone screen.

It started in Musical.ly. Far-fetched for her, she knew. In all fairness, really, call it boredom, call it that little notorious little sickness called ‘curiosity’, she didn’t know what she signed up for. After all, her stretched millennia of cultivating a persona of stretching olive green vines and swords forged from the blood of the unfortunate souls who bit the dust of the Bubonic Plague in 1625 London wasn’t for nothing. Arbitrary and luck had been loyally stuck to her side ever since she was born. She’d been skipping around through hell fires and black holes as if it was a playground of sorts.

She’s been pretending the shadows were like sunlight for all her 25 years.

Oh, happily ever after… what do you know? What do you know? Oh… skip to the ending… who’d like to know? I’d like to know, author of the moment, can you tell me? Do I end up, do I end up happy?

Does she? A hopeless romantic, a teenage girl in senior year, living the life Heather Chandler The All Mighty would envy. Top of her classes, class president, and of course, desired by men and women alike. Perfect, even. Little Miss Perfect of Westerberg high, yet here she is, squealing over a boy living in her phone screen. Pathetic, as one would call it. But really, who cared in this modern society? She’s no better than most so why be ashamed of it? And school was just scratching the surface at her popularity. Come an app with a glitched T as an icon.

TikTok.

She’ll admit, the site itself was... vulgar and... messy, as one would say. Not anything like, say, Twitter, but it's not perfect. Nothing was, really. It was the cruel, sharp reality she had faced merely 3 years ago. You have no obligation to be perfect. Nor does anyone else. You’re not perfect for society, you’re not perfect for your loved ones, you’re not perfect for yourself. Because “perfect” is a myth. There is only “good” and “better”. Romania can only afford good for now, what, with the 16K followers. Cosplay was an art she’s been mastering for, oh, maybe 4 years now. And the only person she’s been looking up to now? User Dark_Web_404. Again, the name was a stretch, but oh well. It's not about the appearance, after all. His name was Virgil.

Oh, Virgil. Little did she know how much he adored her right back.

Maybe worse? Maybe just as much? Either way, he did.

Who would’ve thought, right? Though this was his job. Theatrics has been in the family for years, a forbidden reputation untouched, unbroken. And oh, there was many categories to choose from for his generation. And him? He chose cosplay. Pizzazz and extravagance were not his area of diligent expertise. No glitter bombs, no flying lions, no lost pirate cities to discover, no. Shimmer and glory were the dream but passion and acceptance was his. Pretending to be something you’re not is a pleasure one can yank from his cold, dead hands.

And this Romania person… well, she was truly your typical diamond in the rough, isn’t she? Miss_Scarlette_Letter. That lass had stolen his heart as fast as a sunset went by. With a snap of her lightly tanned fingers had her sweet velvet ensemble flashed into an unnaturally dark display. She had a leather harness pulled over her front, under the tight-fitting turtleneck. A pair of shiny leather leggings clung to her legs like a second skin, a harness holding a knife on her thigh only ever so merciless. Forgive him for the lack of modesty, he’s ashamed of it too. Really though, she was an untouchable rose to him. More on his anxiety, damn you.

Really, it was tastefully bitter how that little purple monster he called Anxiety crawled up his back, almost tauntingly like a spider. Every step pushing deeper than a bullet of intricately chosen words

So come that one fateful word. A single Calibre “Hi” on TikTok’s chat feature. This was harder than he thought.

Dark_Web_404: Hi.

Dark_Web_404: I know this is out of the blue but I’ve been your mutual for quite some time and watching your work has been an honour.

Dark_Web_404: But through this endeavor, I realize one thing.

Dark_Web_404: You’d be perfect for my friend’s cosplay magazine. Can I interest you in it?

He felt like he just climbed Mount Everest. He felt like the weight of the world just crashed against his already creaking shoulders as the wifi deemed the text presentable and let it go miles away into another device.

Fuck, this might’ve been a mistake.

Only it wasn’t. It really fucking wasn’t. In fact, he changed a life that night.

One particular life that lived under her own little self inflicted burdens. One that faked and cried her way to the top, one, while unsuspecting of it, that was finally, god, finally, rewarded something unknowingly well deserved.

It took her a hot moment of comprehension before reality’s surprisingly warm palm took hold of her flushed cerise cheek, holding it suspiciously gently against its own track record. This can’t be real, right? It can’t possibly be happening. It was simply too impossible for her luck to let slide. Yet... there it was. Clear as day. Shining in onyx black letters on her luminous screen, 6 fateful letters taking her by the neck as her mind melted almost hypnotizingly. Was that even a word?

This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this cannot be happening.

Oh, but it’s fucking happening.

“Wait... mutuals?”

[calciumcryptid]

Special thanks to @pizzolisnacks for encouraging me throughout this process! Everytime you tag me I learn we have more in common than I originally thought.

Please click for better quality.

Left To Right

Up And Down

Kaminari/Chargebolt: I am so sorry, I did him like five times but he never came out how I wanted him to. I promise to do him better in the future. I tried to make his coloring similar to Jirou since they canonically have the same costume designer.

Kirishima/Red Riot: Let me make something clear. On this profile having a minor shirtless, regardless of gender, is still sexualization so I gave him a shirt made out of strong mesh. I'm not happy with how the colors turned out, but what can you do? He is Indonesian/Japanese in this edit.

Mina/Alien Queen*: Ever since I figured out my design for her I have been on cloud nine.

Shouji/Gang Kraken*: Pupiless Eyes :)

Yui/Rule: If she was featured with her dress, I would change it into a battle skirt.

Kendou/Battle Fist: I decided she has the same costume designer as Mina and Yaoyorozu so she has the goldish accents with the white secondary color and the one primary color.

Shishida/Gevaudan: Color changes.

Aoyama/Prince Charming*: I'm not happy with how his costume turned out admittedly, but I am happy with the color change I made to his mask.

Sato/SugarRush*: I fixed his lips, and gave him a more interesting design. He is African/Japanese in this edit.

Ojiro/WuKong*: My child in all his lion glory. He is African/Japanese in this edit.

Yanagi/Yurei*: Pupiless Eyes :)

Ibara/Eden*: For the love of gods Horikoshi, a dress as long as Ibara's is not good for battle. I decided Ojiro, Ibara, and Yanagi have the same costume designer so they all have the masks, headband, and robes with the white and black with one color scheme. She is Spanish/Japanese in this edit.

Sero/Cellophane: Got rid of the tape rolls. Not featured, but he is Latino/Japanese in this edit.

Tetsutetsu/Real Steel: Color Changes

Kuroiro/Vantablack: No Changes.

Hagakure/Prism*: Color Changes, plus she has an invisible suit made out of her DNA that turns invisible when she wants it to.

Jirou/Earphone Jack*: Visor and Color Changes.

Juzo/Mudman: Color Changes, also I decided he has the same designer as Sero.

Komori/Shemage: Color Changes, she is Thai/Japanese in this edit.

Mineta/Grape Vine*: I debated on whether or not to edit him, but Shinsou doesn't have the hero liscense to participate on the field so here he is. I accidentally made him look like a small Joker.

Tokage/Basilisk*: Color Changes, she is Brazilian/Japanese in this edit.

Shoda/Mines: Color Changes.

Original ↓

*Please Note: I am aware I'm calling them hero names that aren't their canon hero names, but it is only because I don't like their hero names.

[valkyriesryde]

Sergeant Boinky

Pairing: Bucky x Reader but mainly platonic relationships with reader and Sam

Summary: Bucky’s got a new interest and Sam and Y/N are taking full advantage of it.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, embarrassed Bucks

Word Count: 1,853

A/N: Dedicated to @mrwinterr and inspired by this post that she shared, thanks for giving me an excuse to procrastinate my WIPs hahahah this is also not edited at all i apologise in advance

Masterlist

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was an average overcast afternoon at the Avengers compound. A quiet day, not a peep through the house, not even a mouse.

The members that were left were either relaxing or working. Each to their own.

Bucky Barnes lay on the couch in the common area, phone in hand, held above his head scrolling slowly but steadily.

Sam Wilson sat on the couch beside him. His feet were propped up on the coffee table he lazily leaned on his elbow as he played on his Nintendo switch.

Y/N Y/L/N lay on the couch opposite in a similar position to Bucky, they almost mirrored each other except she held a book to the side and was making her way through.

There was a comfortable silence between the three of them. Every now and then Sam would let out an annoyed huff or you could hear Y/N turning a page but apart from that, it was peaceful.

Then Bucky spoke.

“Hey what does ‘y/n’ mean?”

“Yes or no” Sam didn’t bother looking up when he answered and Y/N ignored them both.

Bucky read the sentence over again in his head, it didn’t make sense.

“That doesn’t work,” Bucky looked back to his friends more confused than before. This caught both Sam and Y/N’s attention. They looked up, first at Bucky and then to each other. There was only one other possible meaning and both knew what it was.

Neither were strangers to fanfiction, no one really is a stranger to fanfiction, unless I suppose you’re about 105 and missed the rise of it. Questions started spinning in their heads at what exactly was happening in front of them.

Was Bucky reading fanfiction?

How did he find it?

Y/N’s most important question was 'oh God did someone introduce him to ao3?!’

Sam’s most important question was 'who the hot diggity hell is he reading about?!’

They were freaking out in their heads so much that they almost forgot to answer him.

“What’s the context?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, surely it had to be something else.

“Uhh it’s in a story but I don’t know what it means"

"Your name,” Sam answered and Bucky nodded reading back over the sentence again.

'Bucky staring at Bucky’s eyes…'  that didn’t make sense still? Maybe he had to use another name?

Y/N and Sam had sunk low into their seats, both prayed that the world would open up and swallow them.

It was hours later and not much had changed. The embarrassment of earlier had passed and they were back to normal.

Steve Rogers had joined the gang in the common area and sat next to Sam with sketchbook in hand.

Bucky Barnes was now fast asleep with his phone resting beside him on the couch.

Sam Wilson was still playing on his Nintendo switch but was starting to get bored of losing the same boss fight over and over again.

Y/N Y/L/N had set her book aside and was now trying not to fall asleep herself.

Then she saw it.

The black shine of Bucky’s phone caught her eye and she sat up and took two steps towards it causing Steve and Sam to turn their gaze towards her.

“What are you doing?”

“Why are you staring at Bucky?” They both whispered to her, as not to wake him up and she just smiled and shrugged.

“I’m curious” was all she said before she plucked the phone quickly from his side and sat between the two men.

“Don’t you need a password to get into it?” Sam asked, catching on as to what she was curious about and he had to admit he’d thought about it too.

“This is an invasion of privacy you two realise that don’t you?” Steve wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of going through his friends phone, it’s not like there was a need to.

“Steve, this is a matter of life and death, now tell us his password.” Sam was straight to the point and though it wasn’t quite a matter of life and death per se, it was the deciding factor on how much embarrassment he was going to cause Bucky.

“It’s 0410 how do you not know that"

"How do you know that?” Steve questioned Y/N but she merely rolled her eyes

“It’s your birthday and then his, and he told me a while ago” she smiled innocently between the two but behind that smile was mischief and she quickly unlocked the phone in Sam’s hand.

Low and behold there it was in all its glory. Fanfiction. About himself. The two curious critters stifled a laugh as they read through the story. A classic enemies to friends to lovers. Everybody loves one of those. They kept looking, kept reading. Bucky seemed to have it all. Coffee shop au, roommates au, you name it he probably had it.

“Oh I’m gonna enjoy this”

“Enjoy what?” Sam locked the phone immediately and hid it from view as Y/N let out a small scream as soon as Natasha had spoken.

Natasha looked at the two questionably then at Steve who had been ignoring them and gave her a shrug.

Bucky sat up abruptly, his eyes wide open searching the room for any kind of danger after being woken up by Y/N’s scream. When he noticed nothing out of the ordinary Bucky fell back into the couch and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Why are you screaming?” He asked before getting up and making his way to the door.

“Nat scared the shit out of me, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

Bucky grumbled an it’s okay and walked out. As soon as he was out of sight Sam tucked the phone between the cushion and couch where Bucky had been and sat back in his seat.

“Should I be asking what you were doing?”

“It’s best to ignore them, that’s what I’ve been doing” answered Steve.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Bucky woke up the next morning he couldn’t help feel content, happy even. He couldn’t help but think about the domestic life, the two story home with a cat on his lap and girl under his arm.

He’d spent half the night in bed reading through series on his phone of that domestic life. Imagining himself as a mob boss, a writer, a college student. And strangely he didn’t feel like he was missing anything. He didn’t wish that life was his, in fact, it made him more appreciative of the life he had. The one thing Bucky kept coming back to was how close he was with his friends in the stories, and they were pretty spot on, that’s how it was in his real life.

The only aspect he would probably change is the whole not having a girl under his arm. A specific one.

Bucky couldn’t help think of that domestic life when he walked into the dining room to see a group of his friends, his family, all chowing down stacks of pancakes and bacon and fruit.

And if that didn’t surprise him enough he went into a state of shock when he walked into the kitchen to see Y/N flipping more pancakes in her pyjamas.

He had to be dreaming? Or been thrown into an alternate reality where all of his domestic dreams are true?

“Morning Bonky,” Y/N flashed him a smile over her shoulder. Bonky? That was the nickname from one his fics he read yesterday?

“Bonky?” Bucky picked at the bacon on the bench trying to act nonchalant.

“Yea Sam and I came up with a couple nicknames for you last night, isn’t that right same,” Sam jumped to take a seat on the bench opposite them, a giant smirk on his face and that could only mean bad news for Bucky.

“That’s right indeed and boy did we come up with some great ones Bork,” Sam winked at Bucky who sighed in response.

“Oh what about Boinks!”

“Sergeant Boinky!” Bucky rolled his eyes as the two went back and forth but there was a nagging voice in the back of his head. These names were used in the stories from yesterday and he had a feeling they knew that. How embarrassing.

“Ooh I like that one,” she turned to Bucky and flashed him an innocent smile, “what do you think Sarge?”

Bucky gulped. So maybe some of those stories had chapters that were maybe not so safe for work. And maybe a common theme in them was him being called ‘Sarge’ or ‘Sergeant’. And then maybe he also had been imagining it was a certain girl who was currently stood in her pyjamas staring up at him like it was the most innocent act in the world. But there was nothing innocent going on in his mind.

“How um, how did you come up with these names anyway?” Need to get out, need to leave, this is an ambush. God Bucky wanted her to call him Sarge again, he wanted to hear her moan it in his ear and oh fuck he needed to get out of there.

“Online,” Sam’s smirk grew bigger and Bucky narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t touch my phone again.”

Y/N and Sam looked at each other then back at Bucky still trying to be innocent, but they knew they had caught him.

“I didn’t touch your phone, why would you think that?” Sam had never had so much fun messing with Bucky, but he needed to know who Bucky was picturing with him because it can’t have been himself!

“Is there something on your phone you don’t want us knowing about Sarge?” Bucky caught the growl in his throat before it could escape as Y/N finished cooking the last of the pancakes.

“No, nothing, not at all.” he shook his head and started making himself a plate of food to hide the red in his face from the two asshats.

Y/N shrugged and gave him a pat on his back, “whatever you say Bonky,” she winked at him before leaving the room. Sam came up next to him, leaning over the counter, stupid smirk still on his face, gonna smack that thing real soon Bucky thought.

“So who was it? Gal Gadot? Mila Kunis? Oh! Xena, Warrior Princess!?” Sam started jumping with excited as he kept listing off celebrities and characters he thought Bucky might have liked enough to read fanfiction about them, paired with him.

“None of your business,” he pushed past Sam and peered out the ajar door to make sure no one was listening. He didn’t need the whole compound knowing what he’s been up to.

“Oooh, or is it someone a bit closer to home perhaps?” Sam wiggled his eyebrows and Bucky rolled his eyes, plate in hand and ready to retreat back to his room.

“You know I can kill you right?”

“And yet,” he held out his arms, “here I stand.” Sam moved to step past Bucky and retreat back to the dining area but not before pausing, “don’t worry, I won’t tell Y/N.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And a big thank you for reading!

[crusherthedoctor]

Sonic Villains: Sweet or Shite? - Part 14: SCOURGE

............

............

......Huh?

Oh, hello there! My name's Lutrudis, pleased to meet you. Judging from that look of surprise on your face however, it's evident that you weren't looking for ME per say... What's that? You want to know what this is? Right, of course, my apologies.

Well, this is a mini-series belonging to... ahem, my creator, in which he goes into slightly more detail about his thoughts on the villains in Sonic's history, and why he thinks they either work well, or fall flat (or somewhere in-between). Usually he gives his stance on their designs, their personalities, and what they had to show for themselves in the game(s) they featured in. He also stresses that these are just his own personal thoughts, and that whether you agree or disagree, you're free to share your own thoughts and opinions.

Unfortunately, as you may have gathered, it seems he's a bit occupied for today, and is thus unable to do a review... is what I WOULD be saying if he didn't let me cover for him! That's right boys and girls, I'll be filling in for him today, by doing a little review of my own! Please forgive me if I prattle on for extended periods, but I sincerely hope my efforts in assessing the Wrong'un of the Week are of the utmost quality. Truth be told, it's kind of nerve-wracking, but I'm happy to give it my all for you guys. ❤️

So then, let's carry on with the show, shall we? Welcome to a new edition of Sweet or... Sour. Welcome to Sweet or Sour. Yes indeed, heh heh... (Is the creator's language normally this gratuitous? I hope Cream hasn't seen his posts...)

Anyhow, for today's review... well, this is quite interesting. Normally the creator prefers to keep his reviews focused on game-centric villains, but I guess he made an exception with this one. Today, we'll be directing our attention to a notorious copycat of our blue hero in the Archie continuity, and legendary connoisseur of 70's fashion: Scourge the Hedgehog.

The Gist: Once upon a time, in the land of comics, there was a world known by all as Mobius. But there was also a parallel dimension called Anti-Mobius, or as it would later become known as, Moebius... one E makes all the difference, apparently. Anyway, in this dimension, everyone and everything that existed in Mobius had an identical equivalent in Anti-Mobius, but things operated a bit differently, in the sense that they were largely the opposite of what we were familiar with.

Putting aside the rather disturbing implication that this world might not have had any real will or independence if it existed purely to do the opposite of what Mobius did, this meant that it had a Sonic the Hedgehog of its very own, as well as a father to that Sonic. Sadly though, this Sonic's father was not that kind to him. In fact, he was said to be a rather poor excuse for a father, as evidenced by how he didn't give his son enough attention, and... oh, that's it.

How awful.

I'd say his choice of attire is the real crime presented here.

Anti-Mobius in its original form experienced a period of Great Peace, but alas, it was not to last. It soon became a shadow of its former glory, which seemed prophetic in hindsight, as it was by this time that this world's Sonic the Hedgehog - Evil Sonic - murdered his own father in cold blood, and then threw his world's incarnation of King Maximilian Acorn into the Zone of Silence. He quickly became a dictator to the people of Anti-Mobius, with his only immediate opposition coming in the form of the kindhearted counterpart to Dr. Ivo Robotnik... or should that be Dr. Julian Robotnik, in this continuity...? Hmm, I suppose it doesn't matter anymore...

Naturally, the laws of the universe saw fit to correct this wrong. Just as water is wet, and fire is hot, Sonic gives evildoers a right kicking. And lo and behold, our magnificent hero did eventually meet his evil duplicate. The two were evenly matched in speed, but the good-natured Sonic triumphed regardless, possibly because he had more wittiness on his person.

Pictured: Quality banter.

Evil Sonic later brought along the rest of his gang to aid him, who predictably mirrored Sonic's own band of Freedom Fighters. They were just as much of a match for our heroes, which is a polite way of saying they weren't. You really shouldn't expect anything exquisite when they looked like this.

Maybe you should call your group something else then...

These parlor games went on for a while, with the status quo never truly changing. But then, after one final showdown with Sonic, the evil Robotnik of Mobius kicked the bucket, which among other things, inspired ANOTHER Robotnik to fill the void. This Robo-Robotnik took Evil Sonic along with him to commit many acts of dastardly intent, an act of generosity that proved to be tragically undermined by Evil Sonic getting caught and trapped by different people time and time again, to the point where even his old gang had long replaced him with a new leader. He did go on to escape the grasp of one Zonic the Zone Cop... only to later get arrested again by the same guy. So far, so adorably incompetent, right?

Still, he did bust out once more, and he proceeded to turn the overall universe into a glorified soap drama by pulling the moves on numerous ladies in Mobius, which in true Evil Sonic style, achieved precisely nothing of merit. Even after he briefly teamed up with Rouge the Bat, his luck persisted in not manifesting. But things were about to get even worse... for us. On a meta level, if you know what I mean.

After one final botched attempt at pointless thievery, with the Master Emerald being the prime target in this particular case, Evil Sonic's attempt to gain himself a super form was halted midway with great force by none other than Locke, the notorious father and attempted microwave murderer of Knuckles the Echidna. Rather than kill him however, all this did was change his fur to green, and leave him with some hardcore scars.

He promptly renamed himself Scourge. Because he's a real SCOURGE to good ideas, har har.

New kid in town, do not steal.

With his first act of villainy as a new man tattering to pieces due to foolishly invoking the wrath of Shadow the Hedgehog, he soon crossed paths with Dr. Finitevus, an albino echidna who otherwise looked exactly like Knuckles (good heavens, how many of these can one muster?), and spent some time on his side by aiding a new gang of lovely gentlemen called the Destructix. Together, these functioning psychopaths committed more mindless evil.

He also managed to swoon over Fiona Fox to his side, a miraculous modicum of success considering you need some sort of charm to be able to do that, of which Scourge has shown nil. I'm hardly an expert on dishing out romantic advice, but I'm willing to bet there's plenty of superior fish in the sea, Fiona...

How about “Oh my god, did I seriously die to THESE losers?”

Eventually, Scourge and Fiona broke away from Finitevus' allegiance after the deadly and boring Enerjak was unleashed on Mobius. He returned to Anti-Mobius, and it turned out that any repairs made since the last time he was king didn't amount to anything substantial, because he went and conquered the entire land all over again. Rechristening his old gang as the Suppression Squad, he continued Being Evil™ some more, until the aforementioned Suppression Squad betrayed him for constantly being abhorrent to them, which led to him being stuck with Rosy the Rascal for a while, yet another shameful derivative of a close friend.

In his last days, at long last, he finally achieved a super form with the power of an Anarchy Beryl... only to get soundly thrashed once again, get thrown in prison, and then just when it seemed he'd be back in business, he got wiped out by the Genesis Wave. Tch, Mondays, am I right?

As you can tell from my words alone, let alone in an extremely abridged format, he did a fair amount over the years... and yet at the same time, when you really think about it, he ultimately did so very little.

Oh, and there was also a Metal Scourge at one point. I'm aware that the man who made him has never been all there in the head, but I still find myself questioning why he saw fit to go through with this nonsense.

I shouldn't need to say this, but that's a disgrace to the hostile Eggman robot that I know and detest.

The Design: Well, he started off as a Sonic, so it's to be expected that he'd look exactly like the lovable goof. Since this was ~Evil~ Sonic though, he was determined to remind us at all times that Grease was in fact the word.

~You're the one I don't want, you're not the one for, no-ho-ho, honey~

Then he turned green, and... yeah, he turned green. All I can say, really.

Please excuse me, I'm utterly beside myself with amazement.

It doesn't quite strike the imaginative chords, needless to say. And neither does his super state, which... I'm sorry, it's not normally my cup of tea to chide others for their appearance, but just look at this tripe for a moment.

No, I don't think I will.

When you combine his already ridiculous self with black eyes and a tiara... what exactly is the intent here? Am I supposed to be intimidated by this display?

Keep this between us if you can, but personally, I'm more intimidated by staircases than I am by this fiend.

The Personality: You would think that since a Sonic is a Sonic, Scourge would share a lot of his personality with our Sonic. And that is true... in the most superficial sense possible.

Sure, he's jovial, cocky, and prone to moments of overconfidence, which is enough to sound very familiar to us on paper. Beyond that however, that's all they really have in common beside their appearance. In every other category, you could argue that Scourge is the exact opposite of Sonic.

For instance, whereas Sonic is supremely loyal to his friends (trust me, I’m grateful to know!), Scourge treats his gang like fetid garbage, and that's when he's not outright abandoning them, neglecting them, and putting them in danger. Likewise, whereas Sonic is a blue bundle of bravery no matter the odds, Scourge is a poor little chicken when the going gets tough, despite all his ramblings about being Sonic's full potential.

This means that for all the acclaim he receives as Sonic's evil doppelganger... he shares very few similarities with who he's replicating. He's barely any different from all the other ruffians that Sonic faces, so what point is there to him being a Sonic at all? If he had a different name and design entirely, what would honestly be lost in translation?

But then, maybe he would just become Mephiles the Dark instead.

Or Mimic the Octopus instead.

Or Eggman Nega instead.

Or Ken Penders instead.

Or... sheesh, they all kind of blend together after a while, don’t they?

The Execution: If my general tone has thus far not been enough of an obvious indication, I do not rank Scourge with any particular favouritism when it comes to Sonic's rogue gallery.

Mind you, ANYONE who threatens our world and tries to kill my friends is nothing but rancid at their core, and as long as they remain unrepentant, I would never support any of them. Asking me which dangerous maniac is “the best” is like asking me which sewage stinks the least, after all. But even I can understand that there's a right way to do bad, and a wrong way to do bad. Scourge, Evil Sonic, whatever you wish to call him, falls squarely into the latter category.

How I'd love to shove an arrow up His Majesty's rear end.

First of all, his motivations were poorly structured, and that's putting it tactfully. Most of the time, we're led to assume that he does evil for no other reason than because it's evil, so we're already not looking at masterpiece material. But as it turns out, as I mentioned way earlier on, he grew resentful of his father for not giving him as much attention as he felt he deserved.

So when he killed his dear old dad, and went on to do everything else to bitterly stick it to his dad's memory, we're supposed to... sympathise...? Understand his point of view, perhaps...?

Well, I dare say I'll be sticking my nose up to THAT presumption, because there is no pathos to be had here. None at all. It's just a selfish brat becoming a violent and murderous selfish brat, and nothing more. By doing everything for evil's sake, intertwined with this sorry excuse of a tragic backstory, it's as if he's trying to have the best of both villainous worlds, without understanding what makes either of them work.

Secondly, for what little success that Scourge actually had to his name, few of them were by his own hand so to speak. As much as it pains me to give Dr. Eggman even a veneer of kudos, it does require mentioning that for all of the doctor's contemptible attributes, he truly is single-handedly responsible for a great majority of his own... achievements, if you wish to call them such. By contrast, this stinker rarely worked for his moments, instead often relying solely on others to get anything done efficiently, whether it be Fiona, Finitevus, his gangs, or the Anarchy Beryl. Without them, Scourge was always nothing.

Thirdly, as mentioned, he failed to fulfill even the basic concept of what Sonic would be like if he became evil, since he has virtually nothing in common with the hero he's trying so desperately to present himself as the corrupted counterpart to. While I'd obviously prefer not to entertain the mere notion of an evil Sonic anyways, since I know deep in my heart that he would never go down that path, I know him well enough to reasonably assume that even if he did lose his way, he would still be recognisable in some capacity, since there are countless aspects to his personality that remain so... inherent to how his mind operates.

I guess what I'm saying is that if an evil Sonic came to be, he would exist as a darker mirror of how Sonic actually is, and not... something that is not at all like Sonic beyond the physical.

What's the matter? Not used to a horse seeing you for what you really are?

Finally, remember when I said he was considerably more cowardly than Sonic? I wasn't simply referring to life or death battles and similar heat of the moment situations. Even when the scenario is of lower intensity, when the odds are completely in his favor at that, Scourge proves himself to be what Sonic isn't. Remember when he broke into the house of Sonic's father, with the intent to intimidate and kill said father... only to be scolded into submission by him? We're expected to believe this guy is a big baddie who ranks high in threat level, yet getting a telling off is sufficient enough to shoo him away?

If only Eggman was this easy to deal with...

Now granted, it's to my understanding that all of Scourge's failings are occasionally explained as him being a parody character. But, and correct me if I'm wrong here... aren't parodies supposed to be, you know, parodic, even if done subtly? As opposed to being played completely straight with no trace of irony, which is exactly how Scourge was portrayed throughout the entire duration of the comic's run, with no exceptions whatsoever?

Despite how often the comic insisted otherwise, and despite how often he received it, Scourge was not a villain who warranted importance. He was not a master planner, or a legendary conquerer, or a malevolent force of nature. He was bottom of the barrel, a wannabe at best, who thought he was made for bigger stripes, but remained little more than a walking pile of fresh manure, with nothing to show for it till the very end. His credibility was often alluded to, and handed to him, but never in any stretch was it properly earned. A punk who occasionally got lucky is hardly worth the rank of arch-fiend, in my humble opinion. He was a disgrace who simply had the luxury of wearing Sonic's skin to mask his shortcomings, and I can’t say I’m crestfallen to see him go.

And quite frankly, anyone who impersonates Sonic in the first place reeks to high heaven anyway. To think this trash heap thought he could ever compare in the slightest to my darling... Oh goodness, did I say that out loud?

Lutrudis Gives Scourge a: Thumbs Down!

[crystalelemental]

Okay.  Deep breaths.  Serious banner talk time.

I’m so mad at myself.  How did I not predict Quan and Eldigan?  That should’ve been the most obvious thing in the world.  Of course they’re his groomsmen.  Like, of course.  How did I not guess that and guessed family instead?

Anyway, Lachesis.  Sweet, wonderful Lachesis, with proper art, in all her glory.  And she’s the demote.  A green dagger flier.  I love her so.  Honestly, I initially thought she was a 5* locked unit.  Air Orders seemed really obvious for being 5* locked.  But apparently Air Orders gets to be on a common.  Before Guidance.  That’s a choice.  Cantrip skills also immediately got demoted, so like...RIP Dorothea.  Courtly Mast+ seems solid.  If she’s got over 50% HP, gets +5 attack and res during combat, and reduces damage from foe’s first attack by 50% if they can follow-up.  That is AMAZINGLY good.  It only works if they can follow-up, so being faster than her or have guaranteed doubles, but still.  I really like it.  It probably won’t be a huge deal for her, though.  I imagine other dagger users will have great utility for it.

Ethlyn is also gorgeous, it’s amazing.  Courtly Fan+ is...yeah.  Attack/Speed +5 on initiation, and neutralizes skills that prevent follow-ups.  That’s going to be one hell of an option.  Windsweep is...interesting.  I get that it’s basically “I will double you and you can’t do shit to retaliate, but you know.  It bugs me that they’re able to do things like this.  Joint Drive Speed is of course also beautiful.  But hey.  What the fuck is with the AR-D skills?  I thought we killed those.  This is really the best you can do?

Quan...okay, his art looks a little weird.  Courtly Bow+ is the same as Lachesis’ weapon, but with attack and defense instead of attack and res.  Joint Hone Defense plays into that well, and Flier Formation is...well, a choice.  But hey.  What the fuck is Attack/Defense Bond 4 supposed to be?  We have Unity skills as of like...two weeks ago.  Step up your game, loser.  You’re the unfortunate 5* locked due to fodder option, and your fodder isn’t even that good.  Quan.  Quan, come on.  You’re better than this.

And then there’s the Duo, Sigurd and Deirdre.  Let me start with this.  Get absolutely fucked.  I’ve never been so happy to not really like Sigurd or Deirdre, because it means my soul won’t hurt.  Gilt Goblet is nice.  A 17 might weapon with Attack/Res +6 if foe is at full HP or initiates, and cuts magic damage and AoE attacks from them by 50%.  You’re gonna need that if you’re going against Ophelia, given color disadvantage.  Attack/Res Bond 4 is super unfortunate.  Lull Attack/Res is fantastic.  Joint Hone Res is a choice.  I think that’s the last Joint Hone actually?  So that’s nice.

Here’s where life sucks for the Duo.  Their Duo effect is trash.  It refreshes every turn, but all it does is act as a reposition for up to two units, just switching them to the opposite side.  It only works if they’re already adjacent, so like...okay.  But the stats.  38HP, 55 attack, 18 speed, 16 defense, and (presumably) 37 res.  If you haven’t noticed the problem, allow me to spell it out.  They’re slow as fuck, can’t take a physical hit, get absolutely no support from Duo effect, weapon effect, or toolkit to offset this, and are severely lacking in raw damage potential for one-shots.  They are a purely dance support focused unit, at a 185BST.  They didn’t get a unique dance, so apparently their only unique status is being the first cav dancer (called it).  While cav dancer is at least mildly scary, the fact is cavs fell off the meta ages ago, and three movement dance isn’t scarier than L!Azura’s bullshit of turning whatever she danced into a three-movement nuke.  The severe drop-off in SP scoring means they won’t even top the Arena charts.  More than likely, they’ll be used for AR, specifically in cav lines, but even there I can’t imagine they bring all that much to the table aside from “is cav.”  The fact that many supertanks in AR are ranged means they can check the mages like Brunnya, but are absolutely demolished by archers like Norne, who pack Spendthrift Bow to delete their one saving grace, and hit them right where it hurts.  I recognize dance support is a fantastic thing, but I honest to god feel like their toolkit is astonishingly limited.

Once again, I feel like maybe the devs have it out for Genealogy.  Seriously, as far as banners go, this is very limited powercreep compared to previous fare around this time.  Hoshidan Summer gave us Dancer Micaiah, who was an absolute nuke of a unit with dual effectiveness, and inheritable weapons with Hardy Bearing built in, alongside some kind of effectiveness against specific threats.  Last year, the dancer banner came with the advent of Gen 4 powercreep, and gave us the powerhouses of Ishtar and Reinhardt, as well as the supremely physically bulky Berkut.  This year feels...tame by comparison.

And yet.  I love it.  I kinda wish more banners were like this.  I don’t like obvious and intense powercreep.  The only thing I would change is giving Quan a better A-skill, since Bond 4 is now irrelevant, and that the Duo were less...like that.  I really don’t think “Cav Dancer” is enough to distinguish them.  But I guess we’ll see.  Maybe being a magic check is a thing after all, who knows.  Probably not with that speed, anyway.

Oh yeah, and Eldigan is the free unit.  I hate Eldigan, so that sucks, but at least my grails are safe.  Also he’s a lance flier, so get fucked buddy.

[movedvalkyriesryde]

Sergeant Boinky

Pairing: Bucky x Reader but mainly platonic relationships with reader and Sam

Summary: Bucky’s got a new interest and Sam and Y/N are taking full advantage of it.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, embarrassed Bucks

Word Count: 1,853

A/N: Dedicated to @mrwinterr and inspired by this post that she shared, thanks for giving me an excuse to procrastinate my WIPs hahahah this is also not edited at all i apologise in advance

Masterlist

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was an average overcast afternoon at the Avengers compound. A quiet day, not a peep through the house, not even a mouse. 

The members that were left were either relaxing or working. Each to their own. 

Bucky Barnes lay on the couch in the common area, phone in hand, held above his head scrolling slowly but steadily.

Sam Wilson sat on the couch beside him. His feet were propped up on the coffee table he lazily leaned on his elbow as he played on his Nintendo switch. 

Y/N Y/L/N lay on the couch opposite in a similar position to Bucky, they almost mirrored each other except she held a book to the side and was making her way through.

There was a comfortable silence between the three of them. Every now and then Sam would let out an annoyed huff or you could hear Y/N turning a page but apart from that, it was peaceful.

Then Bucky spoke.

"Hey what does 'y/n' mean?"

"Yes or no" Sam didn't bother looking up when he answered and Y/N ignored them both. 

Bucky read the sentence over again in his head, it didn't make sense.

"That doesn't work," Bucky looked back to his friends more confused than before. This caught both Sam and Y/N's attention. They looked up, first at Bucky and then to each other. There was only one other possible meaning and both knew what it was. 

Neither were strangers to fanfiction, no one really is a stranger to fanfiction, unless I suppose you're about 105 and missed the rise of it. Questions started spinning in their heads at what exactly was happening in front of them.

Was Bucky reading fanfiction?

How did he find it?

Y/N's most important question was 'oh God did someone introduce him to ao3?!'

Sam's most important question was 'who the hot diggity hell is he reading about?!'

They were freaking out in their heads so much that they almost forgot to answer him.

"What's the context?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, surely it had to be something else.

"Uhh it's in a story but I don't know what it means" 

"Your name," Sam answered and Bucky nodded reading back over the sentence again.

'Bucky staring at Bucky's eyes…'  that didn't make sense still? Maybe he had to use another name? 

Y/N and Sam had sunk low into their seats, both prayed that the world would open up and swallow them. 

It was hours later and not much had changed. The embarrassment of earlier had passed and they were back to normal.

Steve Rogers had joined the gang in the common area and sat next to Sam with sketchbook in hand.

Bucky Barnes was now fast asleep with his phone resting beside him on the couch.

Sam Wilson was still playing on his Nintendo switch but was starting to get bored of losing the same boss fight over and over again.

Y/N Y/L/N had set her book aside and was now trying not to fall asleep herself. 

Then she saw it. 

The black shine of Bucky's phone caught her eye and she sat up and took two steps towards it causing Steve and Sam to turn their gaze towards her.

"What are you doing?"

"Why are you staring at Bucky?" They both whispered to her, as not to wake him up and she just smiled and shrugged.

"I'm curious" was all she said before she plucked the phone quickly from his side and sat between the two men.

"Don't you need a password to get into it?" Sam asked, catching on as to what she was curious about and he had to admit he'd thought about it too.

"This is an invasion of privacy you two realise that don't you?" Steve wasn't too thrilled with the idea of going through his friends phone, it's not like there was a need to. 

"Steve, this is a matter of life and death, now tell us his password." Sam was straight to the point and though it wasn't quite a matter of life and death per se, it was the deciding factor on how much embarrassment he was going to cause Bucky. 

"It's 0410 how do you not know that" 

"How do you know that?" Steve questioned Y/N but she merely rolled her eyes 

"It's your birthday and then his, and he told me a while ago" she smiled innocently between the two but behind that smile was mischief and she quickly unlocked the phone in Sam's hand.

Low and behold there it was in all its glory. Fanfiction. About himself. The two curious critters stifled a laugh as they read through the story. A classic enemies to friends to lovers. Everybody loves one of those. They kept looking, kept reading. Bucky seemed to have it all. Coffee shop au, roommates au, you name it he probably had it.

"Oh I'm gonna enjoy this"

"Enjoy what?" Sam locked the phone immediately and hid it from view as Y/N let out a small scream as soon as Natasha had spoken.

Natasha looked at the two questionably then at Steve who had been ignoring them and gave her a shrug. 

Bucky sat up abruptly, his eyes wide open searching the room for any kind of danger after being woken up by Y/N's scream. When he noticed nothing out of the ordinary Bucky fell back into the couch and rubbed his hands over his face.

"Why are you screaming?" He asked before getting up and making his way to the door.

"Nat scared the shit out of me, sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

Bucky grumbled an it's okay and walked out. As soon as he was out of sight Sam tucked the phone between the cushion and couch where Bucky had been and sat back in his seat. 

"Should I be asking what you were doing?"

"It's best to ignore them, that's what I've been doing" answered Steve.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

When Bucky woke up the next morning he couldn't help feel content, happy even. He couldn't help but think about the domestic life, the two story home with a cat on his lap and girl under his arm. 

He'd spent half the night in bed reading through series on his phone of that domestic life. Imagining himself as a mob boss, a writer, a college student. And strangely he didn't feel like he was missing anything. He didn't wish that life was his, in fact, it made him more appreciative of the life he had. The one thing Bucky kept coming back to was how close he was with his friends in the stories, and they were pretty spot on, that's how it was in his real life.

The only aspect he would probably change is the whole not having a girl under his arm. A specific one. 

Bucky couldn't help think of that domestic life when he walked into the dining room to see a group of his friends, his family, all chowing down stacks of pancakes and bacon and fruit.

And if that didn't surprise him enough he went into a state of shock when he walked into the kitchen to see Y/N flipping more pancakes in her pyjamas. 

He had to be dreaming? Or been thrown into an alternate reality where all of his domestic dreams are true? 

"Morning Bonky," Y/N flashed him a smile over her shoulder. Bonky? That was the nickname from one his fics he read yesterday?

"Bonky?" Bucky picked at the bacon on the bench trying to act nonchalant.

"Yea Sam and I came up with a couple nicknames for you last night, isn't that right same," Sam jumped to take a seat on the bench opposite them, a giant smirk on his face and that could only mean bad news for Bucky.

"That's right indeed and boy did we come up with some great ones Bork," Sam winked at Bucky who sighed in response. 

"Oh what about Boinks!"

"Sergeant Boinky!" Bucky rolled his eyes as the two went back and forth but there was a nagging voice in the back of his head. These names were used in the stories from yesterday and he had a feeling they knew that. How embarrassing.

"Ooh I like that one," she turned to Bucky and flashed him an innocent smile, "what do you think Sarge?"

Bucky gulped. So maybe some of those stories had chapters that were maybe not so safe for work. And maybe a common theme in them was him being called ‘Sarge’ or ‘Sergeant’. And then maybe he also had been imagining it was a certain girl who was currently stood in her pyjamas staring up at him like it was the most innocent act in the world. But there was nothing innocent going on in his mind.

“How um, how did you come up with these names anyway?” Need to get out, need to leave, this is an ambush. God Bucky wanted her to call him Sarge again, he wanted to hear her moan it in his ear and oh fuck he needed to get out of there.

“Online,” Sam’s smirk grew bigger and Bucky narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t touch my phone again.”

Y/N and Sam looked at each other then back at Bucky still trying to be innocent, but they knew they had caught him.

“I didn’t touch your phone, why would you think that?” Sam had never had so much fun messing with Bucky, but he needed to know who Bucky was picturing with him because it can’t have been himself!

“Is there something on your phone you don’t want us knowing about Sarge?” Bucky caught the growl in his throat before it could escape as Y/N finished cooking the last of the pancakes.

“No, nothing, not at all.” he shook his head and started making himself a plate of food to hide the red in his face from the two asshats.

Y/N shrugged and gave him a pat on his back, “whatever you say Bonky,” she winked at him before leaving the room. Sam came up next to him, leaning over the counter, stupid smirk still on his face, gonna smack that thing real soon Bucky thought.

“So who was it? Gal Gadot? Mila Kunis? Oh! Xena, Warrior Princess!?” Sam started jumping with excited as he kept listing off celebrities and characters he thought Bucky might have liked enough to read fanfiction about them, paired with him.

“None of your business,” he pushed past Sam and peered out the ajar door to make sure no one was listening. He didn’t need the whole compound knowing what he’s been up to.

“Oooh, or is it someone a bit closer to home perhaps?” Sam wiggled his eyebrows and Bucky rolled his eyes, plate in hand and ready to retreat back to his room.

“You know I can kill you right?”

“And yet,” he held out his arms, “here I stand.” Sam moved to step past Bucky and retreat back to the dining area but not before pausing, “don’t worry, I won’t tell Y/N.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And a big thank you for reading!

Permanent Taglist: @starvinggaywriter @witch-of-letters @turquoisekokiri @harryngtonewithyourshit

Bucky Taglist: @bxrnsfeyson @brilliantbellesoares

[jewlwpet]

Girl Alchemist Egg--Tale of the Rose track 1, translation

As far as I know, nobody else seems to be translating J. A. Seazer’s latest Utena album, which came out in August, to English (please correct me if I’m wrong)... so the job falls to me.

This is track 1,  知恵の竈(アルデル)実験祈祷室, or “Aludel of Wisdom Experimental Prayer Room”. An aludel is a kind of pot used in alchemy; it goes in a furnace (this is significant).

EDIT: I accidentally left out the romaji for one verse and missed a reference in the title; the version with all corrections (at least for now) is here.

EDIT 2: I changed my translation of the title to “Wisdom’s Aludel Oratory-Laboratory”. See here for my explanation as to why that’s a better translation.

金より不純物を除き それを純粋な形と成し それをうまくなし遂げる者は かくて、 賢者の石を作りえよう それは偉大な力の「石」であり 「石」と呼ばれていて石ではない 

To remove impurities from gold To shape that into a pure form The one who successfully accomplishes this, By this means, can create the philosopher’s stone  It is a Stone of great virtue  And is called a “Stone” and is not a stone.[i]

 錬金術師たち

Renkinjutsushitachi

The alchemists

ああ、永遠の知恵の錬金術   ああ、永遠の知恵の実験室   ああ、永遠の知恵の竃劇場

Aa, towa no chie no renkinjutsu Aa, towa no chie no jikkenshitsu Aa, towa no chie no kamado gekijou, gekijou

Ahh, eternal  wisdom’s [ii] alchemy Ahh, eternal  wisdom’s laboratory Ahh, eternal  wisdom’s furnace theater, theater

夢ではなく現れるドラゴン 世界創造の始めに 波の上を漂っていた神の如し

Yume de wa naku arawareru doragon Sekai souzou no hajime ni Nami no ue wo tadayotteita kami no gotoshi

It was not a mere dream; it materialized, the dragon![iii] Like unto God, who in the beginning created, Hovering over the surface of the waters.[iv] 

蒸留、昇華、煆焼、煮煎  反射、溶解、下降、凝結

Jouryuu, shouka, kashou, shasen Kansha, youkai, kakou, gyouketsu

Distillation, sublimation, calcination, decoction, Reflection, dissolution, descent, coagulation[v]. 

すべて水のなか 黒そのものより さらに黒 そして ルビーの燦然たるいろの耀き その間に発生する ああ、祝福される緑 万物芽吹かす緑

Subete mizu no naka Kuro sono mono yori Sarani kuro Soshite RUBII no sanzentaru iro no kagayaki Sono aida ni hasseisuru Aa, shukufukusareru midori Banbutsu mebukasu midori

Everything within water[vi], A blackness  still more black Than blackness  itself[vii], And, too, The ruby’s  brilliantly-colored radiance,[viii] All the  while: generation, Ahh, happy  green, Which dost  produce all things[ix]!

神の霊気の緑 カバラの緑 渦巻く宇宙 秘術師よ緑のライオンを 哲学者の火 賢者の火 鞴よ 錬金炉アタノールの火を熾せ

Kami no reiki no midori KABALA no midori Uzumaku uchuu Hijutsushi yo midori no RAION wo Tetsugakusha no hi Kenja no hi Fuigo yo Renkin ro ATANOORU no hi wo okose Behold!

The green of God's mysterious presence, The green of the Kabbala[x], The spiraling cosmos, The Magus, the Green Lion[xi]. The fire of the philosophers, The fire of the sages![xii] The bellows! Light the fire of the alchemical furnace, the athanor.

見よ 哲学の竈||実験室 宇宙の竈||実験室 散らかり放題の 貧乏吹き屋の実験室

Miyo Tetsugaku no kama no jikkenshitsu Uchuu no kama no jikkenshitsu Chirakari houdai no Binbou fukiya no jikkenshitsu

The philosophical furnace--the laboratory! The cosmic furnace--the laboratory![xiii] Scattered unrestrainedly, A poor smelter’s laboratory

われら 価値ある人間たらんがために 価値を目指す 錬金術師

Warera Kachiaru ningentaran ga tame ni Kachi o mezasu Renkinjutsushi, renkinjutsushi

For us To have value as humans To aim for value Alchemy, alchemy 

それは一月十七日月曜日正午頃、私の家で、立会人はぺるネル一人だった。人類救済一三八二年の年である。私は水銀に投入を行い、それを約半ポンドの純銀、鉱山のものよりも良質の純銀に変化させた。その後、やはりぺるネル一人の立会いのもとに私の家で、同僚の水銀に赤い石を用いて同じことを行い、四月二五日夕方五時、本当にほぼ同量の純金に変成した。普通の金より確実に良質でより軟らかく、よりしなやかであった。これは真実である。私と同じく理解していたぺるネルの助けをて、私はこれを三回実現したのである。 二コラ・ヴァロワ

Sore wa ichigatsu juunananichi getsuyoubi shougogoro, watashi no ie de, tachiainin wa PERUNERU hitoridatta. Jinrui kyuusai sen sanbyaku hachijuu ni nen no toshidearu. Watashi wa suigin ni tounyuu wo okonai, sore wo yaku han-pondo no jungin, kouzan no mono yori mo ryoushitsu no jungin ni henkasaseta. Sonogo, yahari PERUNERU hitori no tachiai no moto ni watashi no ie de, douryou no suigin ni akai ishi o mochiite onajikoto o okonai, shigatsu nigonichi yuugata goji, hontouni hobo douryou ni junkin ni henseishita. Futsuu no kin yori kakujitsu ni ryoushitsu de yori yawarakaku, yori shinayaka deatta. Kore wa shinjitsudeari. Watsahi to onaji rikaishite PERUNERU no tasukeote, watashi wa kore o sankai jitsugenshita nodearu.

The first time that I made projection was upon a Monday, the 17th of January, about noon, in my house, Pernelle only being present, in the year of the restoring of mankind, 1382. This was upon Mercury, whereof I turned half a pound, or thereabouts, into pure Silver, better than that of the Mine. And afterwards, following always my Book, from word to word, I made projection of the Red Stone upon the like quantity of Mercury, in the presence likewise of Pernelle only, in the same house, the five and  twentieth day of April following, the same year, about five o'clock in the evening; which I transmuted truly into almost as much pure Gold, better assuredly than common Gold, more soft and more pliable. I may speak it with truth, have made it three times, with the help of Pernelle, who understood it as well as I. --Nicolas le  Valois[xiv]

[i] The last two lines of this verse are from Les Cinq Livres or La Clef des Secrets, by Nicolas le Valois, a French alchemist rumored to be the deceased Nicolas Flamel, supposedly using an alias after attaining immortality through the Philosopher’s Stone. I don’t know of any English translation of this text, but the original French is online at https://alchimie.000webhostapp.com/cinq_livres_valois.html. It’s likely that the first lines are also from alchemical texts; I just haven’t been able to identify them

[ii] Eternal wisdom—a phrase from Heinrich Khunrath, used in the title of his book The Amphitheater of Eternal Wisdom. There is an English translation by Peter J. Forshaw, but I have not yet been able to find it; I have, however, contacted the translator inquiring how to obtain it.

[iii] Carl Jung, Psychology and Alchemy: “The dragon is probably the oldest pictoral symbol in alchemy of which we have documentary evidence. It appears as the Ouroboros, the tail-eater, in the Codex Marcianus, which dates from the tenth or eleventh century, together with the legend 'the One, the All'. Time and again the alchemists reiterate that the opus proceeds from the one and leads back to the one, that it is a sort of circle like a dragon biting its own tail. For this reason the opus was often called circulare (circular) or else rota (the wheel). Mercurius stands at the beginning and end of the work: he is the prima materia, the caput corvi, the nigredo; as dragon he devours himself and as dragon he dies, to rise again in the lapis. He is the play of colours in the cauda pavonis and the division into the four elements. He is the hermaphrodite that was in the beginning, that splits into the classical brother-sister duality and is reunited in the coniunctio, to appear once again at the end in the radiant form of the lumen novum, the stone. He is metallic yet liquid, matter yet spirit, cold yet fiery, poison and yet healing draught - a symbol uniting all the opposites.”

[iv] This is a clear reference to Genesis 1:1-2. “Like unto God” recalls the story of the Garden of Eden; Adam and Eve were forbidden to eat the fruit of the Knowledge of Good and Evil because it would make them like God. Alchemists were also seeking knowledge that would make them like God, although the authors quoted in this song emphasized that one could not attain it without God’s blessing.

[v] These are all names for different techniques in the chemical process. Most are still used in chemistry today (only the terms “reflection” and “descent” are no longer used, as far as I know).

[vi] Valois explains that “water” means something different in alchemy. Basically, this water is a truly universal solvent, capable of absorbing anything into itself. He uses an interesting metaphor for this: “It's this Maid Beïa, which has not yet been corrupted or lost its liberty, to marry infirm and ill-shaven bodies, as captives are, who can never leave their filthy prisons without the help of men. Thus preserving liberty with its integrity, we see in a philosophical manner this luminous star making infinite circulation turns, until it came in some reign.”

[vii] Putrefaction, the nigredo, the black stage in the alchemical process. The idea is that there must be sacrifice to facilitate new growth.

[viii] The philosopher’s stone is sometimes called the “celestial ruby.”

[ix] These two lines are from The Rosary of the Philosophers; however, I used the translation of the quote found in the translation of the Exposition, rather than the original text, although that can be found in English too: http://sociedadquimicamexico.org/rosarium.pdf. Here, it’s given as, “O blessed greenness, which engenders all things.”

[x] Many alchemists, both Jewish and non-Jewish, drew on the Kabballah (Jewish mystical texts), although how well they really understood it is questionable. I myself am not at all well-versed in this, but it seems that in the Kabballah, the color green represents healing and harmony.

[xi] The Green Lion typically represents the same thing as the dragon. E.g. The Glory of the World mentions “the Green Lion that imbibes so much of its own spirit.”

[xii] The author of The Glory of the World wrote of “indelible, living, or Divine fire, of that kind which God has placed in the Sun; and wherein God Himself burns as with Divine love for the consolation of all mankind... This is the fire of the Sages which they describe in such obscure terms, as to have been the indirect cause of beguiling many innocent persons to their ruin; so even that they have perished in poverty because they knew hot this fire of the Philosophers. It is the most precious fire that God has created in the earth, and has a thousand virtues -- nay, it is so precious that men have averred that the Divine Power itself works effectually in it. It has the purifying virtue of Purgatory, and everything is rendered better by it. It is not wonderful, therefore, that a fire should be able to fix and clarify Mercury, and to cleanse it from all grossness and impurity. The Sages call it the living fire, because God has endowed it with His own Divine, and vitalising power.”

[xiii] Different names for the athanor, a kind of furnace. The alchemists viewed their work as the creation of a microcosmos, a “petite universe” if you will. “Cosmic furnace” doesn’t seem to have been common in English, but one does find the French version, fourneau cosmique.

[xiv] This passage is adapted from Exposition of the Hieroglyphical Figures. By attributing it to Valois, Seazer continues in the tradition of claiming him as part of the legend of Flamel. We can infer from this passage and its attribution that the two voices we hear singing this song are meant to represent Nicholas and Per(e)nelle, Flamel’s wife, purported to have been an alchemist in her own right.

[brownhardyho]

Hey-hey! Your writing is amazing 🌸 May I have a request ‘bout a shy y/n? Like she can’t make any noises through the sex with Ben, because her ex-boyfriend always said to her that she’s too loud and now she’s ashamed of her sounds (lol, hello it’s me). Thank u VERY MUCH 💕

A/N: Dear lordt sorry this took so long, but this request has been on the back of my mind! This is my favorite I’ve gotten so far, like it just exudes those soft, fluffy, smutty vibes ya feel me?! I was listening to Body Ain’t Me by Pink Sweat$ on repeat when I wrote this, so that is the vibe haha. Anyways, I decided to make it a one shot, I really hope I did it justice. Enjoy!!

Taglist: I’m tagging my mutuals @wanderlustandsmut @rrrogah-tayluhh

Warnings: Fluffy smut ahead - dry humping

Word count: 1,557 (sis went OFF)

You are in your happy place, in the strong warm inviting arms of your best friend, your person, Ben. It’s one of those rare Saturday mornings, where you and Ben don’t have anything to do so you both mutually decided to stay in. You’re both still dressed in your pyjamas: You with an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts and Ben in basically the same thing except with boxers. With your head nestled against his broad chest and his arms slung over your shoulders, quiet chuckles emerge from each of you as you watch reruns of Parks and Rec. With your eyes tracking the scene playing out on the TV, you are oblivious to the fact that Ben is no longer paying attention to the show, but instead has his eyes focused on you and how carefree you are with him.

Your ability to be cool, confident, and shy all at the same time is something that Ben always found intriguing. When you are out with your friends, you the observant one that sits back on the conversation and you add in your two cents when it’s called for. This usually ends up being the spotlight of the convo, whether it be funny as hell or a burn so hot that it can’t be touched. Silently savage is Ben’s common description of you. In contrast, when you are in a room of people that you barely know, like that one time practically begged you to be his date to a charity gala, you became very shy since Ben was the only person you knew in the room. But you handled the evening with a lot of grace, your polite and friendly demeanor sailing you throughout the entire night, meeting new and interesting people along the way.

So yes, it would be an understatement to say that Ben loves you. In fact, he is currently in love with you right now, at this very moment.

He’s in love with the way your nose crinkles when you snort as you are actually dying of laughter, the way you wear your feelings on your sleeve even when you don’t say a single thing. He is in love with the way you are always down to listen to him when he needs to vent. He really admires the way you dance like no one is watching when music is playing no matter your location.

“What are you looking at you dork?” you lightly punch his shoulder, teasing him as you catch him staring at you with that lovestruck look in his eyes. What he doesn’t know yet is that you are in love with him too.

You’re a very observant person and you can feel the way he looks at you when he thinks that you’re not paying attention

“You,” he replies softly, taking your hand from his shoulder just as you’re about to pull it away and holds it in his. “You know I love you right?”

“Pfft, of course Benny,” You scoff, trying to hide the fact that butterflies are building in your stomach “We’ve only been best friends our whole lives…”

“I’m in love with you and I have been for a while now,” he says in a flustered manner, running a hand through his messy blonde locks, licking his lips “And I’m sorry if this changes things but I just tho-“ Ben’s words trail off in silence as he observes your abrupt movement of twisting your body towards him, your legs straddling his thighs, your hips settling into his lap.

It’s now or never, you think to yourself. “Ben, I’m in love with you too!” You smile softly, bringing your chest to touch his, wrapping your arms around him and tucking your face into his neck to hide the fact that you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Ben seems to sense your slight nervousness and wraps his arms around you, to bring you even closer to him, his hands placing comforting strokes along your back.

“Best of friends for a long time,” he laughs, his lips leaving small pecks on your neck, his warm breath making you feel things “and we’re just now confessing our love to each other?!”

“Some lovestruck idiots, we are,” you laugh into his shoulder, just basking in Ben’s embrace. His lips eventually trail along your jawline, eventually making their way on the corner of your lips as if to ask permission if this is ok.

And boy is it OK because Ben’s soft luscious lips make their way to meet yours and the act of kissing him comes so naturally. Like you’ve been doing this for years. With his hands softly tracing your sides and settling down to grasp your hips down to his, you try to hold back a moan by throwing your head back. Your mind gets hazy with all the pleasure you are feeling and it’s honestly overwhelming. If only you could just moan aloud without feeling guilty…

Ben must have a natural God given talent for reading your inner thoughts because he detaches his lips from your neck to say “Is this ok

love? You know you can moan for me right?” his emerald eyes looking into your soul.

Letting a heavy sigh escape from your swollen lips, you respond “Ben, I’m loud when it comes to sex.” You don’t miss the smirk he gives you when you confess this.

“Or at least I was until my piece of shit ex shamed me for being ‘too loud’,” you sigh, rolling your eyes in annoyance at the fact that your ex could still make you feel this way.

“Darling, to that I just have two things to say,” Ben cups your face into his hands as if to get you ready for the next bit of his explanation.

“First of all, your ex has it all wrong. He wasn’t worthy of you anyway.” You beam up at your best friend, because even when you reveal your vulnerability to him, he always makes you feel like a damn goddess.

“And secondly, don’t ever think you have to be ashamed of being vocal and expressing your feelings around me,” Ben says earnestly, playfully pecking your nose and bringing his lips to your ear and growling lowly “in fact, the louder you are around me, love, the better..”

“Oh fuck me,” You sigh, grinding your hips against his, feeling his cock hardening beneath you. The once light mood instantly changing to needy and passionate. Ben’s grasp on your hips tighten to control the movement of your hips. Your lips finding each others again, your tongues moving together in a sensual dance.

Soon after, Ben moves his hands underneath your shirt, placing soft touches on your soft bare abdomen before completely ridding you of the offensive clothing item. And there you are, your almost naked glory, a sight that Ben honestly feels blessed to be in the presence of. He takes note of the way your eyes glance down in slight embarrassment and nervousness and makes it a mission to worship you and your body like no other man has ever done before.

“You are absolutely beautiful, my gorgeous love,” Ben’s praises interlaced with his wet opened mouth kisses on your décolletage, as he basks in your sweet embrace and scent. He lips dance across your bare chest, soon finding your breast to take into his warm mouth. And when he suckles on your nipple and his other hand squeezes your other breast, rolling it’s nipple between his deft fingers, the pressure and warmness building inside you swells tremendously. The feeling is damn overwhelming and you can’t get enough of it.

“Oh Ben,” You moan aloud, the closeness of your warm bodies wrapped up in each other, your mind reeling at the fact that you can feel the wetness in your core building up. All you need is just a little more friction..

Ben is so attentive to the way your body responds to him and thrusts his hips up to met yours,  his already hard length feeling the wetness coming off of your now soaked sleep shorts. Your thrusts are getting faster and faster, just trying to reach that peak of pleasure.

“Baby, cum for me,” Ben groans deeply, his mind equally as gone as yours is. The blonde, soft man is almost about to cum himself, but he wills himself not to (just yet) because he is dying to see you lose it completely in front of him.

The image of you, straddled on top of him, with your body moving with such need and ferocity, your breast bouncing in front of his face, you soon reach your climax and you let out the most pornographic moan that Ben has ever heard in his life. This causes Ben to also reach his climax and you can feel his cum soak through his boxers.

The two of you don’t break your embrace just yet, catching both of your breathes, because who knew that dry humping could be so damn hot and exhausting all at once?!

“If this is what happens to us after dry humping, imagine what it would be like if we actually made love?” Ben suggest breathlessly, his face exuding the biggest dick energy you’ve ever seen and you aren’t mad about it because it is well deserved.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Best friends - Shawn Mendes

i know yall are waiting for boundaries, butttt until i manage to put the next part together here is a cute fluff

You eye yourself in the mirror that takes up an entire wall in the elevator, and you notice how worried you look. Once you relax your forehead those small wrinkles soon make their way back to your face no matter how hard you focus to look calm. You hold the grocery bag to your chest tight as the elevator dings every time it passes a floor. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, but when you realize you are doing it you quickly straighten your features. You don’t want to show up with a bleeding mouth to your best friend’s house for the first time after an entire year.

Shawn has been on tour in the past seven month, he had a lot of other gigs before that and you were also busy with school, then work, and a few months ago you were still dating a guy from literature class making him your priority which now seems like bullshit. The guy was a loser and you can’t believe you wasted so much time. Shawn wanted to fly you out once to one of his US concerts but you canceled on it for the guy. How ridiculous.

You’re not sure about the sudden nervousness. He is still the guy you were best friends with ten years ago, he is just taller, more handsome and oh, also a huge popstar now. But still the nicest guy you’ve ever known and despite the lack of contact between the two of you lately you are sure everything will be just like in the good old days. Except that you are hiding a huge secret from him now. The big fat crush you realized you have on him.

Your breakup urged you to realize why all your past relationships ended up dead if you don’t count your poor choice of men into it. You had some pretty promising sparks through the years, but somehow nothing seemed to be good enough for you, and the realization hit you harder than you were expecting. No one was good enough because no one was Shawn. Neither of those men were the guy you grew up with and relied on every time you needed a shoulder to cry on. Neither of them were your best friend you call immediately when something amazing or horrible happens, you didn’t stay up all night FaceTiming each other just because he watched a horror movie and it upset him so much he needed you to talk him into sleep. The history you shared with Shawn beats every other attempt any men have ever taken and there is nothing you can do about it.

The elevator doors slide open pulling you out of your nostalgia about what it was like when you were younger and Shawn was just an ordinary guy, when there weren’t screaming girls in his life, following him everywhere he went.

You pace down the hallway to his front door and push the doorbell with your nose having both your hands occupied with the bag. You sigh looking around in the hallway as you wait for him to open the door. The next door is pretty far from here, so the apartments must be big around here, your place is probably like Harry Potters room under the stairs compared to these homes here. Seven years ago you would have never thought this is where you’d be meeting Shawn.

The door flings open and a tall figure appears in front of you, a more mature and even more handsome version of the Shawn you last seen a year ago on the porch of your parent’s house when he came to have dinner with you and your family before flying to New York the next day. Back then you both though you’d see each other in only a couple of weeks, but the weeks turned into months and then a year.

His look dark in the lighting, a warm chocolate tone, and the shine in them breaks you into a smile, just as he grins at you happily as well.

“Y/N! Hey! Let me help you with that.” His hands reach for the bag and you hand it to him mumbling a silent thank you. The bag is filled with all the ingredients you need to make tiramisu, some snacks and a few beers you knew he would very much appreciate. Cooking together has always been your thing, Shawn has always been in charge of the actual food while the dessert was your field and you knew he is dying for your tiramisu so there was no doubt what you’d be making when the two of you made the plan to finally meet a few weeks ago.

You follow him in, eyeing around curiously as this is your first time in his new place. He bought it months ago, but you never had the chance to see it in real life, only on photos.

“Do you want a tour?” he asks glancing back at you as he sets the bag down on the kitchen island.

“Would love that,” you nod your head grinning.

You follow him around as he is talking about his home in a very MTV Cribs way, but you’re enjoying it a lot, mostly because it shows that one year didn’t change a thing on his amazing personality.

“Pretty nice view,” you compliment standing in front of the window from where you can see the CN Tower in its tall glory.

“That’s one of the reasons I bought the place. I love just… sitting here in the evening, play the guitar and watch the lights.”

You can see his reflection in the glass of the window and his dreamy look over the city makes your stomach flip. Then he looks at you and the dreaminess is replaced with a boyish smile.

“So, how about we start cooking? I’m actually very hungry.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

While both of you work on your own part of the dinner he keeps asking you questions about everything, he is hungry to know all the things you didn’t have the chance to tell him over the phone. So you talk about school, about the classes you had, and then your new job comes up. He seems genuinely happy listening to you talk about your very normal, uneventful life while you know he has way more interesting stories up in his sleeves, but still, he just wants to listen to you.

Then you take the questioning in your hands, he tells stories about tour, about his friends and colleagues, about the wild and unbelievable life he has been living, and you can’t help but wonder how you are still in his life. Your way of living is nothing like his and it makes you feel insecure for a moment, but then a question of his diverts your attention.

“And how is the guy from literature? I’m sorry, I forgot his name,” he lets out an awkward chuckle and only then do you realize you never told him about the breakup.

“Cody and I broke up around September,” you state matter-of-factly causing him to put the knife down from his hand and turn to you.

“Really? You never told me. What happened?”

You shrug your shoulders. It was never a big deal, Cody was only interesting until the two of you had common things to talk about, but that was only literature. After two months, you quickly realized you are just too different and ended it in the fourth month already feeling like you gave too much of your time for him.

“It didn’t work out. Don’t worry, it was peaceful.” You give him a reassuring smile so he knows it wasn’t a trauma you went through alone. He nods his head taking in all the new information before turning back to the food.

He doesn’t bring Cody up again and you’re happy it’s kind of out of the way. You soon start talking about old things, stories that happened in high school when he was still a full-time student. His phone chimes into the conversation at one point, he washes his hand and grabs it from the counter. You look at him just in time to see him roll his eyes at the screen.

“What is it?” you ask as you finish up the last layer of the tiramisu.

“It’s just Andrew, he wants me to post a story, because I’ve been too inactive lately,” he explains as his fingers are tapping rapidly on the screen.

“What should you post?” you ask putting the box into the fridge so it can chill until the end of dinner.

His mouth opens, but then he stops and his eyes flicker up on you. You don’t understand what this means, but the sinister grin on his face already tells you it’s going to be wild.

“Do you remember the lift we used to do all the time in your backyard?”

“Oh my God, Shawn, no! We are not doing that again and definitely won’t record it.” You protest immediately. He steps closer putting his hands together as if he is praying to you and he is even pouting his lips at you.

“Please, let’s just do a try, it’d be funny. If we succeed, it will look cool and if not, people will laugh at least.”

“No! We haven’t done that in years and I know you are muscly, but I’m not sure you can lift me up,” you say avoiding his eyes, but then suddenly he pick you up and spins you around to show you, he is very much capable of lifting you up.

“See? I’m good. Come on, just give it a try.”

As much as you want to say no to him, you just can’t. So soon you two are in his living room with the furniture pushed out of the way and his phone set up, ready to record. You’re shivering nervously as you watch him press record and then he takes his place.

“Okay, Just trust me, I’ll catch you, promise,” he encourages you holding his hands out, ready for the jump.

The move was just a silly something you two came up with one summer. You have to run towards him, then stamp right before him, he catches you mid-jump with his arms wrapped around your thighs, and then you bend over his shoulder, he squats down and you basically swing over, your hands on the floor at first, then come up to standing at the end. Facing him you are not even sure you are able to swing over like that, you haven’t tried it in a long time.

“Y/N, come on! Trust me, it’ll be good,” he nags you clapping his hands together. You take a deep breath and start running.

It all goes smooth until you jump and he catches. None of you could keep balance suddenly, a high-pitched shriek escapes your throat as you start falling forward and Shawn’s feet slide on the hardwood floor. You both end up on the floor, you almost smash your face to the ground, but catch yourself just in time.

You both lie on the floor laughing uncontrollably as you try to untangle from each other.

“See, I told you!” You scold him laughing, wiping some tears away from your eyes.

“I’m sorry! Are you okay though?” he asks checking out if you have broken anything, but you are fine.

He ends the video and you watch it back. It’s even funnier on tape and you end up allowing him to post the part where you jump and then collapse to the floor. He doesn’t tag you in the video though, this is something you’ve agreed on before. You definitely don’t want all his fans to stalk your profile, even though they still can find you if they want.

In half an hour food is ready, Shawn made roasted chicken with grilled veggies and some fries. You set the table nice and just keep on talking while eating. You don’t seem to run out of things to say, something always comes up and it’s relaxing to know nothing has changed.

You eat the dessert sitting on the kitchen floor, another thing you two used to do a lot. Karen was very strict about sweets so whenever you were over at their place you’d sneak into the kitchen and sit on the floor, so Karen wouldn’t see you in there eating cake.

“Oh my God, this is so good,” he growls in satisfaction, his mouth full of tiramisu, you giggle to yourself.

“I’m the master of tiramisu,” you proudly say scooping some into your mouth and tasting the sweet cream.

“You definitely are, you could enslave me with this.”

You start laughing at the depth he just went into to compliment your work, and before you could think about it, something just slips your mouth.

“Yeah, I’m that good. I don’t even understand why you’re not dating me.”

You scoff lightly, but then you freeze mid movement, just like him, as you realize what you just said. The mood immediately changes and panic is creeping up on your neck, making your whole head feel numb.

You quickly think of something to say that can save the situation, and you end up just changing the subject.

“So, when are you leaving next time?” you ask the only thing you know will distract him from your previous comment. His leaving is a touchy subject, he has told you how guilty he feels for the one year hiatus, because after all, he was the one who left for months, and though you tried to convince him it’s totally alright, you understand it and that’s his job, he is just too stubborn to believe you.

“Um, I have to go to LA in a week, but I’m coming back at the end of the month.”

That means he will spend two weeks away from Toronto, away from you. That’s bearable.

You feel like he forgot about what you said earlier, so you also stop thinking about it. It was just a stupid slip of your mouth and you’re sure he didn’t really think it over.

You help him clean up in the kitchen and by the time you are done it’s almost midnight. You have to drive home, so you think it’s better to leave.

“I’m so happy we got to do this, just like we used to,” he smiles at you as he is walking you out. “We should do something next week before I fly out.

“Sure, I don’t really have plans, so… just hit me up,” you chuckle as you step out into the hallway.

“Will do. Take care and text me when you got home, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hug him shortly before heading to the elevator. It feels like everything weights on you at once when you think you are alone. You feel happy and loved for the way you two could be around each other just like in the old times, but then you think about that stupid you made on him dating you and you are positive you are a real idiot. You are very much lost in your own thoughts when you hear him call out for you.

Turning around you see him barefoot out in the hallway and you give him a puzzled look.

“Shawn, what are you-“

“I was thinking about what you said all night,” he says licking his lips and you hold your breath for a while as you stare at him and wait for him to continue. “I really don’t know why I haven’t dated you yet.”

Your eyes widen as you try to process what he is saying. He scratches the back of his neck as he is trying to find the words.

“Look, tell me if this is not a good time, or if you don’t feel the same way, but… this one year I’ve been missing you like crazy and I realized I want more than just be best friends with you. If you are in, I thought maybe… maybe we could like, go on a date or something.”

He is nervously fumbling with the hem of his shirt and staring at you he is waiting for your answer. You struggle to find your voice, but then you finally build up the courage to answer him.

“I-I would l-love that,” you mumble still unsure if this is really happening or not. His eyes light up hearing your words.

“Great! Good, um… how about, going out tomorrow? I can pick you up at seven.”

“Sure, it’s… it’s fine for me,” you say nervously tugging your hair behind your ears.

“Then… see you tomorrow,” he smiles at you and leaning down he presses a soft, tender kiss on your kiss.

You say goodbye, he disappears in his place and you take the elevator down. Turning to the mirror what you see is so much more different from what you saw when you were arriving. The beaming grin on your face is just endless, your heart is beating fast and your palms are sweaty and you are sure you’ve never been happier in your entire life.

[lisinfleur]

Things Change

Author’s Notes | I hope you enjoy, sweet sister! Thank you for one more amazing request! Love ya! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ubbe x Wife! Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla for 5CW4 Words | 2068 ⁑ Warnings: ANGST, fluffy, romance.

First, it was to avenge his father.

At that moment, the two of you weren't together yet, but you were already in love with the beautiful prince that would become your everything and you could still remember how anguished you became when you saw the terrible wound he had in his face when he came back from those boats. You thought his wife would care for that, but his wife was slowly going crazy and you saw his marriage sinking bit by bit in front of your eyes.

Then, the war against his brothers. There he was, going into battle once again, coming back with scratches and wounds you offered yourself to care for since his wife had gone completely mad and he was now all alone.

The battle brought the two of you into each other's lives. The time slowly made him yours.

And then, that awful time.

The time when he went in the name of King Alfred to deal with the Danes...

You never felt so much fear in your whole life. Not even when, some years later, the doors of the Great Hall of Kattegat - now under your husband's rule - opened again to receive his brothers in his successful attempt to create a peaceful alliance in his family after Björn's decease; and the so feared Ivar the Boneless got into your hall, standing in front of you one more time. Not even when this happened you felt as full of fear as when you saw Ubbe coming back on that chariot, being carried for he wasn't even able to walk.

His face was entirely marked by terrible wounds and parts of his skin were missing, violently ripped by punches and strikes of a horrible battle.

The gods brought him back to you that day and you were sure of it was their hands who protected and guided your beloved Ubbe back into your arms. So sure, that you readily expelled those Christian nuns from your room and cared yourself for his wounds, consecrating your tools and your hands in a small voice to Freya and Eir, begging the goddesses for their favor even in those forgotten lands. Even over Ubbe's crime of rejection – for you knew he did all that theatre of a baptism to Alfred’s god just because of the lands he wanted to his people, sacrificing himself for the common good as any good king would do.

After that, things changed...

The settlement was given to him, but Ubbe changed. He settled the Danes and asked you to come home with him. He asked you to become his wife and guide him back to his people's gods.

That's was what you did.

You helped him to find his way back to the gods. You became his wife and after this, his queen. You stood by his side when his big brother died defending his people and the interests of Kattegat from a bigger enemy. You stood by his side when he decided to finish the conflicts against his brothers. You were always by his side.

Except for this moment…

The settlement in England was under attack. Forces against Alfred's decision were trying to retrieve the lands the English king decided to share with your people and the Danes were requiring their third King to come with his men, so they could face the invaders and expel them from the lands. Alfred sent men to help, but he wasn't with his army: Wessex demanded his presence, and so, a commander was sent in his name.

However, Ubbe was preparing to leave. To stand beside the men that once sent him that horrid way back into your hands.

Your heart was racing into your chest seeing anything about that departure. The sight of the boats was frightening you and you asked your husband's armor, embroidering it with runes sewed with a line wetted in the tears you cried begging the gods any reason to keep him with you.

You knew he was supposed to face his enemies. You knew Valhalla was waiting for him as much as it was waiting for all the great warriors like your husband. But something in your heart was begging Lord Odin to wait a little more... He already had with him the Great Ragnar, dear Queen Aslaug, the fierce Lagertha and your brother in law, the Ironside. Not your beloved husband...

Not yet!

You cried every night since that Dane messenger came, biting your lower lip so your husband wouldn't hear your sobs. But Ubbe didn't let pass your agony and his hands embraced yours when you were painting the runes of protection in his shield a few days before the date he settled to leave with his men.

Your murmurs ceased, trying not to get him worried, but yet, he kissed your knuckles and caressed your face.

"I know you're afraid. I can hear your sobs at night and your prayers in a small voice, wife."

You lowered your face and he lifted your chin, seeing the tears in your eyes.

"I don't wanna see you that way once again," you mumbled, sliding your fingers through the side of his face where a scar left in his temple remembering the awful wounds he got from that battle. "I don't wanna lose you either, Ubbe. I remember how hard it was and I don't wanna see you in so much pain one more time!"

"I won't, my dove. Everything will be..."

"Don't say it!" you squealed, cutting his voice and surprising your husband with such an emotional reaction, "You said everything would be alright last time! And last time you came back carried in a damn chariot! Last time you were on a bed for a month! Last time... Last time I almost lost you!"

"Y/N!" he called, unable to hold you back when you started running away from your house, away from the town, into the woods.

Your tears wetting your face while you were running until you found the hidden beach where you and Ubbe got married. You fell on your knees on the sand, crying. Your hands touched the sea where the water was reaching the sand so calm and so softly as Ubbe's fingers caressing your face.

Your marriage was something so special... Your love for him was unique and so was the love he had for you. Once again, you closed your eyes in prayers, begging the gods for something that could prevent Ubbe to leave to this battle you were feeling would be the end of him.

And so, a very known voice resounded in your ears, scaring you for a moment.

"The reason you seek, you already have, child."

You looked around, seeing the seer standing at the sand, looking to the sea. You were sure you were alone and you would be able to hear if he had walked from behind you, but you didn't care anyway: it wasn't important from where the Wise One came. He had the answers. He always had the answers.

"What do you mean, dear Great and Wise?" you asked, trying to hold back your tears.

And he turned his face towards you, causing that strange sensation his face without eyes was looking into your soul.

"I mean what I said and I said what I mean," he said, enigmatic, walking towards you with his big staff supporting his slow steps.

You got up to look at him and his hand landed on your stomach.

"Lord Odin agrees is too soon for the second son of Ragnar to join his father. And Skuld wrote in your fate. Now go, child. And tell him the reason why he has to stay".

Your teary eyes gave place to surprise when the Seer's hand slid to your lower belly.

It was obvious now...

Your unstable emotions, your overreacting, the absence of your bleeding this month... You thought everything was happening for Ubbe's departure was close. But there was something more.

Such a beautiful thing more.

You nodded in gratitude to the Ancient One and left back to the Hall, where Ubbe was already gathering some men to go after you.

He came towards you as soon as you crossed the door, cupping your face, worried.

"Y/N... Thank the gods you're here! Where did you go? You scared me to the bones!" he said, kissing your lips and noticing you were cold, taking off his cloak to cover your shoulders "You spent the whole day outside! You're freezing!"

His words surprised you and only then you noticed the sky was already dark. For you, only a moment had passed since you found the Seer at the beach, but the whole day went before you came back to your husband's worried arms.

Ubbe took you to your room, dismissing the men that were already reunited, ordering the slaves to lit the fireplace so the room would be warm enough for the two of us to talk.

But when he was ordering the slave to bring you some tea, you stopped him, refusing the offer.

"Love, you're freezing. You need to get warm," he insisted and you softly touched his hand with one of your hands and caressing his bearded face with the other.

"Not this way," you said, causing him to look at you confused.

"Y/N," he tried to start again and you placed his hand softly over your lower belly, silencing his voice with a question in his eyes.

"That's why you can't leave, Ubbe," you said, with a tender voice, "That's why I'll have to find another way to warm myself up and that's the reason why you have to stay. Wessex demands King Alfred's presence. And your first child demands yours, my king."

He was ready to give you an answer, but your words silenced his mouth and you felt his hand softly relaxing over your belly, adapting to the lightly rounded shape of your lower belly, not really protuberant yet, but already firm.

"You're telling me..."

"I'm with your child, husband," you affirmed, leaning your face to look into his eyes. "The Seer confirmed. He told me. I'm with your child".

"Slave," he called the girl to who he was ordering the tea, "Call me a pair of messengers. Now."

The slave girl left and Ubbe looked straight into your eyes. His fingers caressing your lower belly softly.

"You make me a happy man, wife. A man blessed by the gods, my love."

He kissed you softly and kept your body softly against his. And when the messengers arrived not far from his call, his words settled the relief into your heart.

"One of you go after Hvitserk. The other, go after Ivar. Tell my brothers there is a war for our settlement in England. A war I cannot fight. I leave the glory of the battlefield for them if they want to join my men and go in my name. If they don't, a commander shall be elected in between my men to guide the army for my firstborn child is to come and I shall not leave my family for now. I'm sure it won't be necessary for Ivar and Hvitserk shall want the pleasure of crossing their swords in England once again, but even then, take my words to them and make it be heard as soon as you can. Now go."

"Yes, my king."

The two messengers left your chambers and you felt Ubbe's arms around you, softly.

"I'll stay for I want to see my child's face. I want to see your belly growing with the life we created together, my love. I craved this moment for too long to let it pass. I'll stay with you, my love. With both of you."

His hand caressed your lower belly one more time and you rested your head in his shoulder, mutely thanking the gods for the weight taken away from your heart. You knew sooner or later the gods would call your husband for the place in his father's table alongside his brothers at the Valhalla was his by right. But not now. Not so soon.

Now it was time to treasure his seed in your womb and build his legacy so when the time has come for him to meet the gods, his name would remain in this earth, living through the sons you would bear for him.

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[lunaemia]

About Thomas More’s “Utopia”

I finished my reread of Utopia by Thomas More. The reason I reread it was more or less to refresh my memory in anticipation of future FFXIV patches. I had originally not thought much about the Ancients’ city being called “Amaurot,” but ever since I read this post about Emet-Selch’s costume, I’ve wondered if there might be more influences from Utopia besides names.

This is honestly for my own benefit to go back to during future patches (where we’ll hopefully learn more about the Ancients’ society 🙏), but since I’m probably going to share it with other FFXIV friends regardless, I figured I’ll add some disclaimers:

FFXIV!Amaurot was called “Atlantis” in early development. So, some of the more... on-the-nose passages might just be a coincidence, albeit one the devs may happily use.

Related to the above point, it’s important to note that Thomas More himself coined the term “utopia” with this book. This is the granddaddy of fictional utopias. A lot of common tropes probably started here.

The headers (Book I, Book II - Of Their Magistrates, etc) come directly from the book, except for the Interludes. Interlude sections are of my own making, either linking related passages from different chapters or isolating certain sections of a chapter.

MISC.

Here’s a list of terms and names from Utopia.

Copying some of the most interesting ones:

Utopia – “noplace” in Greek (Eutopia would have been “happy place.”)

Mithra - name of Persian gnostic god and of Utopia's god (this one is discussed more later in this post)

Amaurot (name of a Utopian city) – “[made]* dark” (but I’ve read elsewhere that it means “foggy or phantom”)

Probably important to note that Utopia is satire.

Also, I find the visuals of FFXIV!Amaurot quite interesting when you compare it to Utopia. Art deco is not exactly the architectural style you might associate with proto-communism, heh.

BOOK I.

Raphael Hythloday is a philosopher and globe-trotter. He lived amongst the Utopians for five years.

Because of his worldly knowledge, More and Gillis (both of whom are real people, unlike Hythloday) suggest that he become a sort of counsellor to a king, an idea which he passionately refuses.

From Hades’ Tales from the Shadows story, we know that Hythlodaeus had initially been asked to become the new Emet-Selch. He refused, so the role went to Hades instead.

1. “I think my friends ought to rest contended with this, and not to expect that for their sakes I should enslave myself to any king whatsoever.”

2. “The change of the word,” said he, “does not alter the matter.”

3. “and if all other things failed, then they would fly to this, that such or such things pleased our ancestors, and it were well for us if we could but match them. They would set up their rest on such an answer, as a sufficient confutation of all that could be said; as if it were a great misfortune, that any should be found wiser than his ancestors; but though they willingly let go all the good things that were among those of former ages, yet if better things are proposed they cover themselves obstinately with this excuse of reverence to past times.”

4. “For you spoil and corrupt the play that is in hand when you mix with it things of an opposite nature, even though they are much better.”

5. “... for the same reasons you should not forsake the ship in a storm because you cannot command the winds.”

6. “in a complication of diseases, that by applying a remedy to one sore, you will provoke another; and that which removes the one ill symptom produces others, while the strengthening one part of the body weakens the rest”

BOOK II. OF THEIR TOWNS, PARTICULARLY OF AMAUROT

The island of Utopia is located somewhere in the New World, and because of its geography, it’s also fairly isolated.

Amaurot is its capital.

The island has 54 cities. They are all more or less the same. Hythloday makes a point in saying that when he describes Amaurot, he describes the other Utopian cities as well.

There is no private property in Amaurot. Also, apparently the most beautiful of gardens can be found there.

BOOK II. OF THEIR MAGISTRATES

1. “It is a fundamental rule of their government, that no conclusion can be made in anything that relates to the public, till it has been first debated three several days in their council”

2. “One rule observed in their council, is, never to debate a thing on the same day in which it is first proposed; for that is always referred to the next meeting, that so men may not rashly, and in the heat of discourse, engage themselves too soon, which might bias them so much, that instead of consulting the good of the public, they might rather study to support their first opinions, and by a perverse and preposterous sort of shame, hazard their country rather than endanger their own reputation, or venture the being suspected to have wanted foresight in the expedients that they at first proposed”

BOOK II. OF THEIR TRADES, AND MANNER OF LIFE

Every citizen has a particular trade that they focus on - such as the manufacture of wool, masonry, carpentry, etc. There is no particular trade that’s held in higher regard than the others.

Trade often passes from parent to child, but if anyone’s skills are better suited to a different trade, they are moved to a family that deals in that trade.

The people all wear the same types of basic clothes. The only distinction in dress is between the sexes, and the married and unmarried.

They appoint 6 hours to work each day (3 before dinner, 3 after).

Despite the lower number of working hours compared to other societies, they find themselves with a “great abundance of all things among them.” This is due to the fact that no citizen remains idle.

BOOK II. OF THEIR TRAFFIC

They think that the greatest happiness of life comes from improving their minds.

None of their cities may contain above 6000 families, besides those of the country around it. No family may have less than 10 and more than 16 people within them. This rule is observed by moving children around, should it be necessary.

They have large, functioning hospitals. It’s said that their hospitals are so large that they may pass for little towns. They take care of their sick much more than other societies.

INTERLUDE. ON BUTCHERS

“There are also, without their towns, places appointed near some running water, for killing their beasts, and for washing away their filth; which is done by their slaves: for they suffer none of their citizens to kill their cattle, because they think that pity and good-nature, which are among the best of those affections that are born with us, are much impaired by the butchering of animals”

“Therefore all this business of hunting is, among the Utopians, turned over to their butchers; and those, as has already been said, are all slaves; and they look on hunting as one of the basest parts of a butcher’s work: for they account it both more profitable and more decent to kill those beasts that are more necessary and useful to mankind; whereas the killing and tearing of so small and miserable an animal can only attract the huntsman with a false show of pleasure, from which he can reap but small advantage. They look on the desire of the bloodshed, even of beasts, as a mark of a mind that is already corrupted with cruelty, or that at least by the frequent returns of so brutal a pleasure must degenerate into it.”

BOOK II. OF THE TRAVELLING OF THE UTOPIANS

If they have an over-plus of resources, they export it. They often do send out great quantities to other nations. They order a seventh of these goods to be given out to the poor of foreign nations; the rest are sold at moderate rates.

1. “There are no taverns, no alehouses nor stews among them; nor any other occasions of corrupting each other, of getting into corners, or forming themselves into parties: all men live in full view, so that all are obliged, both to perform their ordinary task, and to employ themselves well in their spare hours”

2. “And on the contrary, they think it a sign of a gentle and good soul, for a man to dispense with his own advantage for the good of others;”

INTERLUDE. ON THE VALUE OF GOLD

Linking this post again due to its relevance.

1. “But one who can judge aright, will not wonder to find, that since their constitution differs so much from ours, their value of gold and silver should be measured by a very different standard; for since they have no use for money among themselves, but keep it as a provision against events which seldom happen, and between which there are generally long intervening intervals; they value it no farther than it deserves, that is, in proportion to its use. So that it is plain, they must prefer iron either to gold or silver: for men can no more live without iron, than without fire or water”

2. “The folly of men has enhanced the value of gold and silver, because of their scarcity. Whereas, on the contrary, it is their opinion that Nature, as an indulgent parent, has freely given us all the best things in great abundance, such as water and earth, but has laid up and hid from us the things that are vain and useless.”

3. “... while they make their chamber-pots and close-stools of gold and silver; and that not only in their public halls, but in their private houses: of the same metals they likewise make chains and fetters for their slaves; to some of which, as a badge of infamy, they hang an ear-ring of gold, and make others wear a chain or a coronet of the same metal; and thus they care care, by all possible means, to render gold and silver of no esteem.”

4. “They find pearls on their coast; and diamonds and carbuncles on their rocks; they do not look after them, but if they find them by chance, they polish them, and with them they adorn their children, who are delighted with them, and glory in them during their childhood; but when they grow to years, and see that none but children use such baubles, they of their own accord, without being bid by their parents, lay them aside; and would be as much ashamed to use them afterwards, as children among us, when they come to years, are of their puppets and other toys.”

5. “This three ambassadors made their entry with an hundred attendants, all clad in garments of different colours, and the greater part in silk; the ambassadors themselves, who were of the nobility of their country, were in cloth of gold, and adorned with massy chains, ear-rings and rings of gold: their caps were covered with bracelets set full of pearls and other gems: in a word, they were set out with all those things that, among the Utopians, were either the badges of slavery, the marks of infamy, or the playthings of children.”

6. “The Utopians wonder how any man should be so much taken with the glaring doubtful lustre of a jewel or a stone, that can look up to a star, or to the sun himself ...”

BOOK II. OF THEIR SLAVES, AND OF THEIR MARRIAGES

They have no lawyers. They think it’s best for everyone to plead their own case and understand their own laws. Fortunately, their laws are few in number and easy to understand.

1. “If any man aspires to any office, he is sure never to compass it”

This also reminded me of Hades’ Tales from the Shadows story. Granted, it’s a very short story, but I didn’t get the impression that Hades actively pursued his office (Hythlodaeus obviously didn’t). It’s possible that none of the Convocation did if this bit from Utopia was worked in.

2. “THEY do not make slaves of prisoners of war, except those that are taken in battle; nor of the sons of their slaves, nor of those of other nations: the slaves among them are only such as are condemned to that state of life for the commission of some crime, or, which is more common, such as their merchants find condemned to die in those parts to which they trade, whom they sometimes redeem at low rates; and in other places have them for nothing. They are kept at perpetual labour, and are always chained, but with this difference, that their own natives are treated much worse than others; they are considered as more profligate than the rest, and since they could not be restrained by the advantage of so excellent an education, are judged worthy of harder usage”

3. “Another sort of slaves are the poor of the neighbouring countries, who offer of their own accord to come and server them; they treat these better, and use them in all other respects as well as their own countrymen, except their imposing more labour upon them, which is no hard task to those that have been accustomed to it; and if any of these have a mind to go back to their own country, which indeed falls out but seldom, as they do not force them to stay, so they do not send them away empty-handed.”

4. “For the most part, slavery is the punishment even of the greatest crimes; for as that is no less terrible to the criminals themselves than death, so they think the preserving them in a state of servitude is more for the interest of the commonwealth than killing them; since as their labour is a greater benefit to the public than their death could be, so the sight of their misery is a more lasting terror to other men than that which would be given by their death”

5. “If their slaves rebel, and will not bear their yoke, and submit to the labour that is enjoined them, they are treated as wild beasts that cannot be kept in order, neither by a prison, nor by their chains; and are at last put to death”

6. “They think leagues are useless things, and believe that if the common ties of humanity do not knit men together, the faith of promises will have no great effect”

BOOK II. OF THEIR MILITARY DISCIPLINE

I suppose it’s worth pointing out that a true utopia likely wouldn’t be possible unless the whole world was one. The Utopians despise war, but they train their military all the same.

1. “for the certainty that their children will be well looked after when they are dead, frees them from all that anxiety concerning them which often masters men of great courage; and thus they are animated by a noble and invincible resolution” 

2. “... yet they do not rashly engage in war, unless it be either to defend themselves, or their friends, from any injust aggressors; or out of good-nature or in compassion assist an oppressed nation in shaking off the yoke of tyranny”

Emet, probably:

3. “THEY detest war as a very brutal thing; and which, to the reproach of human nature, is more practised by men than by any sort of beasts.”

4. “in opposition to the sentiments of almost all other nations, think that there is nothing more inglorious than that glory that is gained by war.”

5. “They would be both troubled and ashamed of a bloody victory over their enemies, and think it would be as foolish a purchase as to buy the most valuable goods at too high a rate. And in no victory do they glory so much as in that which is gained by dexterity and good conduct, without bloodshed”

6. “If this method does not succeed with them, then they sow seeds of contention among their enemies, and animate the prince’s brother, or some of the nobility, to aspire to the crown”

7. “for as they do not undervalue life so as prodigally to throw it away, they are not so indecently fond of it as to preserve it by base and unbecoming methods”

BOOK II. OF THE RELIGIONS OF THE UTOPIANS

There are 13 priests per town.

1. “And indeed, though they differ concerning other things, yet all agree in this, that they think there is one supreme Being that made and governs the world, whom they call in the language of their country Mithras.”

Mithras is an ancient Iranian god of light. Futhermore, according to Wikipedia: “Together with the Vedic common noun mitra, the Avestan common noun miθra derives from Proto-Indo-Iranian *mitrám, from the root *mi- "to bind", with the "tool suffix" -tra- "causing to". Thus, etymologically mitra/miθra means "that which causes binding", preserved in the Avestan word for "Covenant, Contract, Oath”.

It’ll be a missed opportunity if this name isn’t worked into the story, tbh.

2. “They have magnificent temples, that are not only nobly built, but extremely spacious; which is the more necessary, as they have so few of them; they are a little dark within, which proceeds not from any error in the architecture, but is done with design; for their priests think that too much light dissipates the thoughts, and that a more moderate degree of it both recollects the mind and raises devotion”

Lolz.

3. “They offer up no living creature in sacrifice, nor do they think it suitable to the divine Being, from whose bounty it is that these creatures have derived their lives, to take pleasure in their deaths, or the offering up their blood.”

Well, that’s certainly interesting within the context of FFXIV. A plainer way of saying this is, “we don’t sacrifice animals, because without them, we wouldn’t be able to live.” 

4. “THERE are several sort of religions, not only in different parts of the island, but even in every town; some worshipping the sun, others the moon, or one of the planets: some worship such men as have been eminent in former times for virtue, or glory, not only as ordinary deities, but as the supreme God: yet the greater and wiser sort of them worship none of these, but adore one eternal, invisible, infinite, and incomprehensible Deity; as a Being that is far above all our apprehensions, that is spread over the whole universe, not by His bulk, but by His power and virtue; Him they call the Father of All, and acknowledge that the beginnings, the increase, the progress, the vicissitudes, and the end of all things come only from Him; nor do they offer divine honours to any but to Him alone.”

5. “... for this is one of their most ancient laws, that no man ought to be punished for his religion.”

6. “He judged it not fit to determine anything rashly, and seemed to doubt whether those different forms of religion might not all come from God, who might inspire men in a different manner, and be pleased with this variety;”

[chococustard]

((I’m really sorry if I’m becoming too annoying with asks and all that!!! U don’t have to respond!!)) Kind of random, but out of curiosity, do you have any A/B/O AU family headcanons?? I honestly would LOVE to know more about all of them!! Thank you sm!!

!!! NOT AT ALL I ACTUALLY GET SUPER HAPPY WITH YOU LIKING THEM SO HUSH YOU’RE NEVER A BOTHER ASK WHATEVER YOU WANT

legit i have a shit ton of notes in my notebook with my horrible hand writing and basically nonsense notes and while writing the edited ver a) like the dingus i am i accidentally clicked a thing and lost all the answers b) the internet dies haaah

SO YEAH THERE’S A SHIT TON UNDER THE CUT

MIDORIYAs

mido worries about his mom getting overwhelmed by paparazzi so as a pro hero he doesn’t really give off his name to the public and the name midoriya kinda just fades over time

i’m guessing heroes give birth in secluded hospitals who won’t give off their info yeah? but mido’s location got leaked somehow and yu got kidnapped by villains which then todo fucks shit up and got her back so since then they’ve been kinda worried about safety and shit

inko stands in as guardian for school related stuff most often since todo and deku are mostly busy

idk why i kinda hc todo’s mom as an ice dancer or something (look at how that boy works with ice that does not come from endeavor) she used to take the kids to the ice rink and teaches them to skate. todo still holds that place as a safe space and goes to the one a few train stations away from campus after he gets his shit together. he took deku there for their date and ends up also taking the girls there too.

rei gets out at some point, as she gets used to being in society again she stays with inko (and all might//SHOT) at deku’s old room when he got a place with todo. she gets along with them and also mitsuki. they have tea together and share embarrassing stories about their kids it’s great

yu and tsumu plays mostly at tsumu’s house which was closer to the school, they hit it off super well and they even talk about each other to their families, todo and deku are super relieved to know their girl has another friend. yu actually met mirio and tamaki already but are not aware they know her parents

so tsumu one day just “hey you wanna come over for dinner we’re having bbq you should bring your family over!” and they do come over cause why not i guess and then the 2 families meet and damn

their balcony is filled with potted plants courtesy of inko. there’s also a small bottle with a single morning glory flower, wrapped in a blue ribbon and a duck cutout stuck into the dirt

no one uses watashi in the house, yu uses boku, chi uses ore, yu calls them oka-sama and otou-sama and generally uses more formal speech while chi uses the more common -san honorific, not sure if this is relevant of anything but yeah. also todo calls deku bunny from when they started courting (2nd year)

they have a thing with nicknames. obviously deku uses -chan, but also

BAKUGOUs

baku and kiri works as partners tho sometimes kiri helps out with the fatgum office, they have an office at home and basically a small gym

meat. so much meat. there’s always meat in the fridge

baku and kyou both eat with so much fucking spice and chilli kiri’s basically kinda used to it to a point. but if they have the girls over (like when deku’s in heat//SHOT) they have to have extra of the low impact portion. one time chi took the spicy portion by accident, apparently she’s immune

they’re an outdoor family basically. whenver they can they go mountain climbing when kyou is old enough. baku’s chili peppers kept getting stolen by animals, he tries every time to blow them up

baku and kiri dated and courted first, but deku and todo mated first cause of a quirk related accident. but then they got engaged and married first because baku is fucking petty.

baku’s parents fucking love kiri he’s a good boy he’s glad baku somehow ended up with someone so great. baku however have to holds himself back to be a good boy™ to kiri’s more traditional family. he managed somehow

when baku’s parents meet kiri’s they’re shocked to find how they find baku as a charming and wonderful young alpha and they’re glad their eijiro found someone who accepted him. SO MITSUKI OUT OF SPITE INVITES THEM A LOT AND BAKU HAS TO ENDURE SO MUCH SHIT

BAD NEWS FOR HIM CAUSE THEY GET ALONG

“MRS KIRISHIMA WOULD YOU LIKE TOO SEE KATSUKI’S BABY PICTURES?” BAKU, INTERNALLY DETONATES

baku ended up basically deaf so he has to learn sign language, kiri the ever supportive bf learns too, as well as their families, and they also thought it to kyou

friday nights are mario kart nights, no holds bar

the rest of the baku squad (and camie) often visits but since they converted the extra room to baku’s office and their couch isn’t all that big they have to sleep at mido’s place, or borrow their extra futon

kiri, when asked if he wants another kid, “holy shit no it was so hard to get my body back into shape ok and also how the heck do you even hold yourself as a hero not to save people IZUKU SOMEHOW DID IT MORE THAN ONCE IM STILL SHOCKED”

when kyou got his quirk he accidentally burned his bed, then screamed to dad and pop hOLY SHIT I GOT MY QUIRK

he was so proud of it at first and shows it off at schooltho when it's found out that he has little control with it, as lava often seeps through his skin and out of his mouth at random times, almost hurting the other kids, the at first popular kyou was feared by his peers, until yu got her quirk late in the year and was able to put out his lava whenever

"you're not scared of me? even before you got your quirk?" "why would i it's not like you did it on purpose" also like she's used to baku. that goes along for years until kyou presented. yu comes over after school with meds and stuff, but kyou, out of his mind and his body out of his control, attacked her, trapping her in a cascade of hot burning lava. she managed to escape with some mild burn and they kinda got awkward for a while. they're cool eventually

however when yu presented the fear of that happening again got way fucking worse

YAOYOROZUs

momo and kyouka wants to be independant yeah, so they got their own apartment (more of a penthouse if anything) with their own money

a note, dams are gender neutral pronouns for moms, sires for dads

itsu calls momo dad, kyouka mom

since he’s mute since birth, in addittion to sign language, as his interest with music grows they make a system for basic stuff he can make with notes and sequenses as answers where he’s unable to use signs

momo however also makes a list of codes for specific teas

he carries around at least a whistle or kazoo, mostly he uses a harmonica

momo’s parents worries at first about enrolling him into a normal school but momo and kyouka themselves are convident their kid can get along with the other kids

they right, even without his connection as their kid

is he a goth? not really, he just really likes the color black

he also like birds, he has a bunch of photos and encyclopedias of birds in his room

kyouka often holds charity concerts, momo and itsu always comes to support her

IIDAs

it surprised everyone when iida, the rule abiding iida, had ochako pregnant before they got married, so with the power of the iida family they got engaged and married so fucking quick

tho really it was an accident, ocha misscounted her birthcontrol pills during her heat and they’re already courting anyway and their familes are already aware of each other and get along well so whatever

HE WAS ALSO LATE FOR HIS BIRTH BECAUSE HE HAD TO FUCKING OBEY THE GODDAMN TRAFFIC LAW

also i need someone to get me like, you see iida and ura, they cute right, pure and soft. but holy shit when ocha’s in heat she takes no shit and is basically a goddamn dominatrix

they, deku and todo shares a hero agency, so basically when tenma was born they made a baby space for him in their shared office with toys and shit and the sidekicks can play with him, they’re putty in his chubby hands. same thing happened with the tododeku kids. the sidekicks are all okay with this

there’s not many support and rescue heroes, so ocha often gets called in as an instructor at ua, she brings tenma for lessons for her students to safe

tenma likes to hang around the future heroes, he likes to play hero

“senpai senpai do you need help!” “ooh ye see i think i accidentally blew my shoe way up that tree can you get it for me?” “YES!!”

he takes martial arts lessons as early as from 3 years old, as a teenager he’s able to fight midair

TOGATAs

so like not sure yet, tamaki’s either an omega or beta so tsumu is either theirs biologically or adopted so

either way if she’s their biological kid, during his heat tamaki used his quirk when doing the dirty so the genes stick and mutates and shit

aNYWAY

tamaki doesn’t really like making appearances on tv and in public, he even rarely sign for merch deals, tsumugi often finds knock off merch of him and she likes to get it as a kind of joke cause the design was actually kinda funny, mainly this actually

she also likes to find show cameos of him, that too was hilarious

she loves hanging out with aunt nejire they often go shopping, she’s the one who bought her the knock off suneater shirt

“lol you wanna know why your dad’s hero name is suneater?” “what?=D” “tha-” tamaki: NEJIRE I SWEAR TO GOD

also like mirio totally acts like the protective big bro to eri when someone likes her

she likes buff/big bodies, mostly to sleep on, she sleeps on mirio and mr fatgum

she has a bunch of miruko merch cause she’s a rabbit and has strong ass legs and she may or may not have a gay awakening cause of that

here is, in fact, said bootleg shirt

she likes the giant gaping mount

SHINSOUs

SHINSOU’S AN UNDERGROUND HERO FIGHT ME

he teaches the hero course and LIKE HIS DAMN DAD IS A LITTLE SHIT TO HIS CLASS

so he’s the one who changed the entrance exam to make it more fair for kids with quirks that are not flashy his, so the robots are then deligated to the recomendation exam kids while the regular ones gets a basically game of hide and seek with his hero buddies and the older students

i actually have this for his hero costume back from goddamn january i dont even know

i, i have nothing for fuyusei they met at the hospital and they hit it off and that’s….. it

i have even lESS SHIT FOR OJITOORU

ALSO LIKE I FUCKING LOVE THE IDEA THAT ALL MIGHT RUNS A VILLAIN REHAB FACILITY OR SOMETHING WITH ALL HIS MONEY, YOU KNOW, FROM BEATING VILLAINS TO SAVING VILLAINS, AND LIKE INKO HELPS WITH TALKING TO THEM IM WEAK

[pinkpoundcake]

DESERT DEVIL

CH. 1 THE HISS

All Might/ Reader as Female OC

NSFW AU ( Yes there’s smut)

4k+ words

Here’s the first chapter of something I’ve been working on during off time at school. I like writing drastically different AUs, because they give me a lot liberties. I intend for this to be a short series, so maybe two or three more chapters after this one. Hope ya enjoy if you read! 

I’m not sure if FF.net will allow second person, so I’m posting it here. I aint got no AO3. I also apologize for any mistakes! I’ll go back an’ fix as I see em. 

EDIT: Went back and fixed some things. Also, I changed the category of this fic. I’m warning the reader that you’re an OC! Kinda like you’re a preset character in a dating sim? If that makes any sense. Those be my only terms of free service. 

I.

Dusk had gone and night finally draped over the still view of the valley. You were a silly girl, really. No one in their right mind would pick now of all times to draw water from one of the wells. Maybe once upon a time they would have. It wasn't impractical to wait until the sun stopped cracking its infernal whip to get things done, but once upon a time, the valley had nothing to fear.

II.

You were walking quickly. You kept your wooly head low as you neared the crudely built structure. Only one bucket of water. No one would mind. You just couldn't go to bed with a clear conscience without finally giving your poor, overworked horse something to drink. You'd take the risk, because glory knows you hated having cottonmouth. It was cottonmouth season...all year round it felt, except for the few praise inducing weeks the sky would show mercy and weep. Dry mouth, dry eyes, dry coat, dry everything. Such is the way of the desert.

You gave your heavy water bag a hard yank to make sure it was sealed before you hightailed it back to your plot. The locust had stopped gossiping in the weeds, and it was making you nervous.

III.

You were the sort of gal who liked to blend in, but your talents made that hard. You had an ability, A Gift, as folks liked to call these sorts of things, that made you incredibly valuable for trade.

You engaged in it as well, because you had to, to get along, but it made you an easy volun-telling target for other croppers and craftsmen and all manners of citizens with business

“Could you chat with this fellow for me? He speaks...sumfin’. The hell if I know. He owes me money.”

“Tell that eastern cheapskate I won't go any lower on price!”

“Hey, goat girl, tell the front counter dame in the Apothecary she's welcome in my bunk any time of day~”

First of all, you were a sheep. Second of all...fine.

IV.

Your Gift was nice for the most part. You had your own upper hand when it came to sale. You could understand anyone, no matter the spoken language. Absolutely essential for such an oddly diverse patch of scorched Earth. You could even help filter a speaker to an entire audience if you held their hand. You didn't like to advertise that though, otherwise the mayor and sheriff and whoever else, would be breathing down your neck even more than they did now.

If no one around knew you, then they usually assumed your appearance was all there was to your Gift. So, what you loved most was eavesdropping. Conversations were mostly mundane in other languages. That's how talking worked, but there were days when you were served some pretty interesting dirt or juicy news by unknowing hosts.

They're going to start rationing water tomorrow. Some serious limits, I reckon.

I didn't think it would be this bad this year?! It rained just enough in the early season, didn't it? I wonder where it all goes.

You wonder the same. It gets worse and worse every year. Every year it's a point of serious tension. They don't call this valley Struggler for nothing. Struggling was this town's first, middle, and last time. Maybe it's old maiden name, too.

The commonality is, is that if you made it halfway through the desert, you stopped in this crowded, little town and clung to it for dear life. You personally knew what it was like. Everyone knew what it was like, to fear that you weren't going to make it to The Oasis at the end of your journey. After the promenade that chewed you up, and spat you out, you don't even try.

We don't have enough water for all the people we keep letting stay here!

But what kind of person could keep a cold heart here? What would it take to let someone waste away elsewhere, or worse, face the beast this desert had to offer.

The Hiss.

More chilling than a rattlesnake's warning.

V.

This broad blue sky. The hard clay and sand beneath his form, the cacti, the dry bones and evaporated watering holes. Every scavenger to circle overhead belonged to him.

The hard, hot wind. The mirages that danced in nauseating ribbons. They were his. He could lift his head, and think about howling to his old lovers, the stars, if he still had the singing voice. But he lost that a long time ago with one of his lungs.  He was getting old, too, but his bloodlust was getting stronger every year, along with a lot of puzzling urges.

He hated that he could only claim his seared kingdom at night, but it couldn't be helped. He was a partial coward who couldn't hope to understand himself. He still had a deep sense of decency. He was a hypocrite, in a sense. He didn't want to be a bother during the day, if he was such a big bother at night. But being a menace at night was to be a nuisance in the day, regardless.

And nuisance was...too light of a word. Far too light. Crows in his sunflowers were nuisances. Locust in his house were nuisances.

Him?

Oh, he was

VI.

“A killer...A fuckin’ killer!”

You watched as the town sheriff swore and covered the body of a, now former, foreman with a bit of canvas. Splotches of blood bloomed in the fabric over the inclines of the older man's face. From what you saw, he was mauled real good. Or...bad. A big bite right out of his jugular, clavicle, and most of his left shoulder. You weren't the only sick one in the crowd. You would have upchucked your breakfast if this wasn't something you were becoming accustomed to.

First it was Mr. Dandy, gnawed out chest, who used to rally up hunting parties with the German twins who could shoot right out of their fingers, no guns needed. Then it was Eclair, you didn't know her last name, who sold pungent perfume from her own sweat out of her tacky little shop. Y'all never found her head. Big Cat Capri from Cameroon, was torn in two. Though he was a menace with a forgettable Gift that wasn't much missed. Then there was another fellow. Japanese you think, but actually he was still limping around somewhere.

The only one to see The Beast and live… The fella's pretty busted up as far as you know.

Anyway, time for another funeral.

VII.

Speaking of that old Japanese fellow…

You didn't give him much of a glance at any given day, but you could see him  out of the corner of your squared pupils, watching you hand off chunks of unwashed wool to craftsmen who were probably going to fashion saddles or boots. It wasn't quite the right time to start plucking from your melon patch, or any of the desert dates, so you were selling off some old stock of your hair. Everyone knew it was your hair, and no one really cared.

God, you couldn't recall his name. You've never actually heard him speak, but the fella always sat at the posts near the trading square and just watched the street; waiting for someone with their hands full to need help lacing up their boots. Or for someone's goat to go astray so he could bring it back to them. Or to help some kid out on errands tether their family horse. You wonder why he would go through those little efforts on a limp. He walked with a cane, bright red like a dragon, with a yellowing cattle horn handle. He wore a big brimmed, leather hat so that he didn't catch perpetual sunburn, thick slacks, a poor fitting button up that used to be white, and strapped riding boots, too, but no spurs.

He was a strange sight, you noted with slight nervousness as he stood, and then made his way over to your shabby booth. He was a tall, tall, tall fella. Tall and skinny, like he didn't fancy eating much. You knew a couple of people who were like that. He had wild, blonde hair, he obviously didn't comb. And honestly, he had the prettiest blue eyes. At least you assumed they were. He was swallow enough that his eyes were sunk deep beneath his brow, but that blue struck out like an aimed double barrel. It made you wonder what he looked like when he was a colt.

“Afternoon, sir,” You cleared your throat. You watched his face to gauge how much he understood you. You didn't want to be rude. “No food. Just some wool today.”

The older man, squinted, seemingly thinking, and then gestured to your freshly sheared head with the handle of his cane.

“It's all mine, yes.” You laughed and scratched one of your horns to release some of your anxiousness.

“How...How much for it?” His accent was somewhat thick, but you were happy you wouldn't have to reach out and grab one of his massive hands to get on some equal ground.

“Five pieces for a small bundle. Ten for the big bundles there.” You watched the fellow consider which size, and then finally he made a decision. Slowly he lifted one of the large cottony wads, and then absentmindedly brought it to his nose. He gently inhaled the intriguing scent there.

You stared, perplexed, and confused. He seemed to pick up on your confusion, and righted himself. He gave you his own awkward smile, almost an apology for…whatever that was. He counted out ten small pieces for you, politely dipped his head with a thank you, and then moseyed along.

Strange…

VIII.

He was drunk. Absolutely drunk, and he'd never had a drop of liquor in his life. Tequila couldn't have been stronger than this. Your scent, your scent was so...He didn't know.

Good.

It made him hungry for things he'd forgotten the name of, forgotten how to describe. He didn't know what he was doing alone in the shack he called his home. Hiding his shame maybe. He'd locked the door with the big expensive chains and padlocks ( that were decor at this point) from the top shelf hours ago as night began to fall. He was paranoid, and feeling ravenous for a completely different, mysterious reason from what he was used to.

He held your wool in one hand, pressing it flush to his nose as he paced from one side of his home to the other. The misaligned floor groaned and weazed beneath his heavy, bare footsteps. His shadow, flickered from a candle or two, and swept the peach papered walls like a dark, lumbering menace.

What was it that he wanted now?!

He didn't understand himself anymore! There was no one to teach him his purpose.

He inhaled again, deep. His exhale emerged with a low rumble.  It rattled the chains strapping the front and back door, and shifted the glass in the kitchen window.

It was happening again much too soon.

There used to be a time when he could command the other half of himself. Where he could be whoever he wanted, whenever, but now he was stripped to nothing but incomprehensible impulses.

His wrath. His hunger. His pride.

Something new. His lust.

IX.

You just finished putting the blanket on Kissy, your horse, when the stars began to rub the long day from their eyes and glint down at you. Though still warm, the wind rolled over your fuzzy scalp and settled in the cooling sweat beneath your dark hide. You rubbed your arms, figuring you could use a blanket, too. Your draft's loud chewing in the stable cover was a calming background noise as it mingled with your thoughts. The flat distance, with it's mountainous levels was a pretty sight, despite being empty.

You've always wanted to roam at night, finally figure out what that fabled Oasis was on the other side of hell. You hoped it was heaven, or something close.  You wanted to explore more than your town, to see what was out there while the sun wasn't scheduling your funeral. You were bored of being too scared. Stressed with not having enough of the bare minimum essentials. Lonely, too. Kissy kept you company, maybe, but he wasn't all that good with conversation or cooking.

He wasn't good at stopping you from taking 'walks’ either. You found all sorts of excuses for yourself to roam at night. Kissy needed more water, or you needed to find some wild aloe for a wound, or you needed to find sand grubs for your greedy gossip of chickens.

Excuses, excuses.

Mr. Aizawa, was another Japanese fellow (you think), who wasn't the sheriff, but probably could have been. He'd tell you you were full of excuses. The town had a curfew of sorts to 'keep people safe’. Under what authority this curfew came from, you had no clue. If you were caught, the runner up sheriff hogg tied you with a lasso and a warning, and dragged your sorry, law breaking ass back home. Or fined you. Something like that.

He had an annoying Gift that kept others from using their Gifts to get away. You didn't know how he did it. Much to what was probably Deputy Aizawa's disdain, he was plucked out of the crowd the day he arrived. He had a scruffy grifter appearance, but the fellow was awfully strict, perfectly bilingual in relation to you, and knew  exactly what your own Gift entailed, so you couldn't pretend you didn't understand any of his honorary demands.

You didn't even give yourself a chance to consider he might be out and about on patrol. You didn't even consider where the hell you were going. All you knew was that you were:

Literally and figuratively hard headed.

And

Dumb as rocks because it was half past night noon, and anywhere beyond the aloe thicket was Hiss county.

The danger zone.

X.

A scent was a scent was a scent. Something to follow to a target. His prey were rotten. He caught the next foul stench on the hit list floating on the western wind. It filled his flared nostrils and made his mouth water with anticipation. His long, thick fingers were still raw and full of splinters from clawing his way out from his pathetic attempts at shutting himself in.

The night was a blur. He was unbothered by the grit he kicked up in his full run. Adrenaline pumped in his veins with the incredible accumulation of power that drove him. There was a roar in his ears. Something he rushed by sliced him; thin little scratches in several places, but he didn't notice. His heart thrashed beneath his ribs as he sensed himself drawing closer and closer.

Wait.

Suddenly, he came to a halt, giving the surrounding weeds severe whiplash.

Everything aside from his heart and his laboured breathing were still. Not a sound from any creature. Nothing was brave enough to disturb him.

There was something... something else on the wind he wanted much, much more that seemed to be coming from the same direction.

XI.

The last thing you wanted to hear was a voice while you were trying to be sneaky. You kept your body low and tucked your tail close to the full round of your bottom. It was going so nicely, your 'stroll’. You were going to take some notes in one of your books, maybe stuff some natural souvenirs in your pocket, and then head back home.

You held still for a while and used a few big, healthy stragglers of agave as your cover. You were hearing the voice again, now two voices. You didn't know what dialect they were speaking, so you closed your eyes, and used your Gift.

He's been shelling out a lot for this reroute. Keeping a lot of people's mouths shut. It's gonna be a lot harder to get this done without the foreman.

Yeah, I thought that, too. It's strange. I'm sorta...spooked. Mr. Dandy and now him. You’d think this whole thing was cursed.

Or someone knows…

They looked mauled, couldn't have been some poor bastard with a pistol.  What do they call the thing that's been chewing people up?

Depends on who you talk to. Yok... something. Yokay? Yokai? Chupacabra, though it's not gettin’ goats, that's for sure. Werewolf. Howler. Beast. Plain old monster.

I just hope it's a coincidence. I don't want to be next…

Now...what in the world we're these fellers talking about? You frowned while quietly slinking around to another perch. You watched your footing and hoped they would talk more, but now they were getting further and further away. Headed…somewhere.

Somewhere you kept your eye on. Might want to check it out next time you take a stroll.

XII.

The air pressure flipped like a coin  and cut through your moment of reprieve.

Bullseye.

You were so shocked you couldn't even scream. It was caught in your throat with a pinch of desert sand. Something massive and unyielding and menacing had ripped the ground from beneath your feet.

The sky was spinning round and round as the earth teetered wild on its axis. The moon was mocking you. The stars cackled as they danced, blurry streams trailing like faded candle lights behind them.

There was a black patch of sky that didn’t budge, and it only held two stars far above that didn't move either. Because they weren't stars,

they were vivid blue eyes.

XIII.

This was it. This was how you were going to die.

You were already nauseous from hitting you head, and now you were nauseous from hitting reality. You couldn't make a sound, could hardly breathe. Your throat burned like a shot of fireball. Your eyes were wide as you tried to make out the Beast's form. It was hard, with hot tears in your eyes, now shrouding the moon’s pale light. You could hear him, though, the hiss of death. It was high pitched, akin to the sizzle of a hot brand.

Would it have ripping fangs when it bit you? We're those its claws digging into your ankles as it dragged you elsewhere? You were in a bit of pain, and you could sense the stickiness of blood on your back, but you were mentally preparing yourself for a lot more. Images of the sheriff draping canvas over your mangled body caused you to wretch.

You were so stupid!!!!! SO GODDAMN STUPID. HOW COULD YOU PUT YOURSELF IN THIS SITUATION? NO WEAPON. NO NOTHING.  THIS IS WHAT YOU GET. HOW COULD YOU-

It stopped.

You stopped.

Confusion boxed you good over the ears.

You were staring up into the face of a man now, and he was staring right back at you.

Your confusion subsided into renewed fear. He was just a man, but the most unnaturally large man you had ever seen. Large was the wrong word. He was...immaculate. A threadbare shirt was struggling to hold itself together as his massive chest flexed. He had a heavily shadowed face and unreadable, though somewhat tense expression. His golden hair stood upright on his forehead head, like a red bat's ears or jack rabbit. Pure, wild, chaotic energy wafted from the heat of his skin. He shifted slightly while sizing you, and your eyes darted to the massive, bear paw of a calloused hand on the other side of your head.

He could sneeze and snap your neck. You believed he could tear a man in two. Oh God in heaven, he did! And you were next!

The Beast made a sudden movement, and you shut your eyes. You clenched everything from your horned head, to your cleft, hooven toes, and waited.

You had no choice but to hold your breath as his big, otherworldly body pressed into yours. It felt like being pressed between something more solid than a rock, and a really hard place. His breath, that you realized was rushed, cooly ghosted your forehead. Was he going to take your noggin like Eclair and mount it over his fireplace?

Greedily, he was drinking in your scent. So much stronger, so much better right from the source. He had to sample more of you. Sip you. Lap you up.

Where was it?! Where was more?!

You didn't think you could tense beyond how much you were tensed now, but you did as his nose left your head to wedge its way up into your neck. You felt the unnatural rumble of his voice in the hollows of your bones, filling your throat and chest. You prepared for hard, life ending bites, but all you received we're moderately painful nips and what could only be described as sloppy kisses. He received the sensation of kissing your fur with intrigue and almost groomed it with a big, wide tongue.

You didn't know what to say, or what to do. He hadn't said a word. You didn't know if the brute mounting you was really human, or …Something. Was all of this even real? Or were you home, wet dreaming about a good rut in your bunk again?

He needed more! More! More! More! Where was more of you?!

He left you one last bite on your shoulder that you were ashamed made you bellow out like the animal you were similar to. You slapped a hand over your mouth, but it was too late, the sound excited him. His nose grazed you, his rapid breaths through his nose like the pumping steam from a piston, a panting dog, frantically looking for more of your tastes and smells. Your clothes were in his way, but he didn't have the patience or current cognition to remove them.

He rubbed his cheeks against your generous chest, nipped your stomach through your tattered apron, and then zipped straight to your crotch. You were shocked as he unashamedly, obliviously, pressed his face there and very audibly inhaled. There was another rumble, loud enough to buzz through your entire body.

“A-Ah!” You cried out. The sharp, pleasurable tingle and sting from his deep voice, the pressure from his cheeks, and the heat of his breath was sudden. You were so…you were…

You could end this year's drought right here, right now.

You bit your lip, desperately wanting to access the situation. To think! To sort out what in the HELL was happening, but he had ripped through your overalls with his teeth and was lapping at your plump pussy through your knickers. He'd sniffed out the wetness that had slickened the fabric and was eager to taste. You moved closer and hissed out a pathetic Yeeessss!

Whimpering, you tried to push yourself up on your elbows. Your shoulders hit some hard, cool clay and the back of your head scraped more of the rough rock there. He was suckling like a thirsty calf, drawing the fabric of your knickers into the heat of his mouth along with your long, throbbing clit beneath. The suction was strong, unrelenting, almost painful.

“H-hey, hey! Easy, partner!” Your thighs  involuntarily snapped around his head, but he was undeterred. You shoved your hands against his brow, trying to get him to release.

“Please!” You were relieved when he finally did, but it was only for some adjustments. The brute drew his hands beneath your legs and dragged you further into the shadow so he could keep his meal all to himself.

His mouth attacked you again and you wriggled and writhed. Your own breath matched his labored huffs. You bit chunks out of your sense of morality while you bit your lip. With a shaking hand, you brought your clawed fingers to your crotch. His thick tongue grazed your knuckles as you worked to tug the fabric aside and reveal your dark, generous lips, and generously engorged clit beneath. He immediately took what you revealed to him, going from hungry to downright glutenous. You couldn't tell if the additional wetness you felt was from your own cyprine or slobber on his chin.

XIV.

“GOD!! Who are you?! What is your name?” Now was not the time to be asking these sorts of questions, but again, you did say you were a silly woman. You gritted your teeth to attempt to contain your cries. He didn't respond at first. The only reply for several deliciously, agonizing moments was the thick, slurping sound of his attention between your legs. This stranger, no demon,  was trying to shove his tongue as far up your womanhood as he could, and at this point, he had your loud, keening permission.

“AH! AHH!” Your slapped the hand that wasn't buried in his hair over your mouth again. You couldn't contain yourself. You'd never felt something like this before. You were a maiden who could only daydream, and you weren't sure if you could consider this that, or a nightmare.

“I said!” Your voice cracked and your back arched from the ground as you racketed up to an orgasm. Your voice was weary and hoarse. You were shrieking “what is your name?!”

He still had yet to respond, but if he chose now, you wouldn't have heard him. You came for the first time in your little life ( bless your heart); your mouth stretched wide open, waiting to catch flies. But all you caught was a big, wet kiss.

You could taste yourself. Taste his breath. Your legs were shaking. You were high like you'd been huffing gasoline, so you didn't put up a fight when he lifted you to his chest.

Someone was coming…

He had to take you elsewhere.

The open night sky. The owl judging you both from the whole it ate out a cactus. The earth beneath his feet. The howl of the wind as he ran and you both became a blur.

And you, clinging to his chest:

Belonged to him.

--

Chapter 1 End