#the Current Me outfit is just supposed to look obnoxious as hell i put no further thought into it
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YOU'RE CHALLENGED BY.... some weirdo who's about to explain the entire fnaf lore to you.
Younger me's mask and outfit based loosely on sona from when i was like 14. Shuppet/Banette for my beloved stuffed animal I've had all my life and Porygon for me having very much grown up online, for better or worse!
#porygon#shuppet#banette#pokemon starter selfie#boxes sona#box art#the Current Me outfit is just supposed to look obnoxious as hell i put no further thought into it
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If you don't mind, could I request Hobie with a musician s/o who is super sweet any time they're NOT on stage or performing, but then they get on stage and just fit so well into their stage personality of being absolutely borderline clinically insane? So much so that you can't really even call it a character they're putting on, it's just second nature to them.
[https://youtu.be/NauWxATQisQ?si=k5rGhK-RZ3BwkT9c // adding this to maybe give a more in depth idea of the unhinged act that I can't really put into words right- like the kind of personality of someone you'd want to put under a microscope and inspect, for lack of better wording]
ok so i gotta admit i had a little trouble with this one since the only musical background i have is being a violinist đ, but i watched the video and i (think) have finally got it LMAO
âlight switchâ
pairings: hobie brown x gn!musician!reader
warnings: sfw, cursing, nothing else i think..
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
âcanât you wait a while longer?â hobie asked, being his usual stubborn self.
you huffed. you were currently supposed to already be on stage, as there was a hopeful audience waiting for you behind the other side of the curtain.
hobies hands were on your hips, eager to have some more time with you. you loved your boyfriend, but your musical career was more important than a make-out session.
you motioned toward the curtain. âhobie, thereâs people who paid good money to come, iâll see you later, right?â you smiled up at him with a tinge of annoyance in your eyes, trying to warn him this was his last chance.
he put his hands up in surrender. âalrighâ, but i know youâre gonna start cursinâ out that audience, eh?â he chuckled before punching your shoulder softly.
you pursed your lips in disbelief before hobie walked away to get seated in the front of the crowd, his usual spot. he needed to see his favorite person up close, after all.
you patted down your outfit to make sure you looked at the very least presentable. not like it was a formal outfit, anyway. you were wearing a simple graphic tee with cargo pants, you werenât the type to go all out.
you were pretty casual. very casual. so casual in fact, that there was no need for a grand entrance. you simply flapped the curtain open just enough so that you could face the stage and sit behind your crowd.
itâs not like you were a pop star, but you definitely had some big fans. so it was no surprise that when you appeared, the audience almost fainted. your ears were flooded with claps from dozens of hands and cheers from excited fans.
âalright, alright shut up..â you mumbled, not even bothering to look up at the anxious-for-action audience members. you noticed that what looked like some new people were shocked at your obvious annoyance.
you sighed before looking back up at the people covered in bright concert lights. âshit, letâs do this..â you sighed, âthis beginning song is about how fucking mad i am at the people who work at the store and keep asking me if i need help.â you explained with almost no flavor in your voice.
you took in a deep breath, about to begin playing your piano and sing, but there was an interruption.
you didnât take those very well.
âhey!! i work at the store! ever been to the 24/7 drug store âround here? makes more than you, i bet.â a manâs voice lifted from the crowd obnoxiously. the rest of the crowd âoohedâ and âahhedâ at his heckle, knowing what happened to the previous ones.
âwhy donât you take all that money and shove it up your ass?â
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
you could still hear the echos of the howls of laughter after you had made a comeback from the few hours before. you were now protected with hobieâs loving arms as they wrapped around you, your head on his slowly rising-and-falling chest. you were both sprawled on the bed, exhausted from the loud and bright night you had.
you remembered the look on hobieâs face when he saw you after the show ended.
âbloody hell, didnât know my darling could be like that..â he said sarcastically, knowing he had seen you like this countless of times. his reaction to your jokes and comments were always priceless.
what made it better was that you were just the sweetest thing off stage. your friends all knew you as the kind one who never held grudges, never judged anyone, or treated everyone like your best friend. on stage, well.. you were just a bit different.
but, you did love your fans. especially your boyfriend.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
haha this one was definitely shorter than expected đ
anon, if you want this to be rewritten PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!
reblogs, likes, & follows are appreciated so much!
thanks for reading!!
â˘đ§đ§đ§
#across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse x reader#atsv x reader#hobie brown#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown fluff
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Hi!
Beyond Hogwarts is here! What do you think about it so far? and What do you think about MC's adult model?
It's actually underwhelming, just MC's student head with a taller body, I expected better đŹ
Sorry it took me a while, but I wanted to finish Chapter 3 before answering to have something more to say. Iâll probably still do more detailed commentary, but still â I have a fuller picture now. And honestly? I kind of agree with you. Itâs rather âmehâ so far. And to elaborate on that, Iâd put my thoughts in one of three categories: the good, the bad, and the ugly.
THE GOOD
I actually quite like the story so far. Donât get me wrong, I donât think itâs great or anything. But Iâd say itâs pretty decent. I mostly like the concept of the ROCC, and I still think itâs a good way of approaching MCâs job. Admittedly, I do feel there are a little too many employees in the background of the ROCC scenes, considering that itâs a secret division, but itâs not a big complaint. Especially since I believe itâs supposed to involve characters from all over the world.
Iâm glad to see Olivia again, and Iâm thrilled to see Callum (though I have some big complaints here, but more about it in a moment). Surprisingly, I also like Ruby so far. I saw people complaining about her already, but I donât really understand it. I feel like her optimism is just a part of âa happy-go-lucky girl from Texasâ, and itâs fine by me. I donât find it obnoxious or anything.
THE BAD
I actually have to start with one of the story parts. To be more specific: with Flump. I have very mixed feelings about our new boss. I want to make a separate post about him, but to put it short, the execution of his character is just bad. I usually like the type of âmean mentor who grows to appreciate the protagonistâ â and I believed thatâs what Flump was gonna be. But the way he was written in his first chapter, just really doesnât work for me.
Unfortunately, I also have to put some technical issues in this category. I donât really mind the lack of Quidditch, but I donât understand why they reduced the number of Friendship/Clubs quizzes. Also, while the new map looks very niceâŚ
⌠itâs not super practical. For people who donât know, when you tap the stairs icon it brings you to the area youâre currently in, not the general view of the map.
And itâs a bit problematic, in my opinion, because even statistically speaking, when you move, itâs more likely that you want to move to a location in a different area, not the same. Especially if youâre in Azkaban, for example, because the North Sea has only one location. You know what I mean? I donât know, I guess itâs not a big deal, but it kinda made things more annoying.
THE UGLY
Ok, so hereâs where I put what you mentioned: MCâs appearance. Because MCâs adult design is quite terrible. Admittedly, I feel like it looks a little better with some outfits:
⌠but overall⌠itâs pretty bad:
And I really donât know how to interpret that comment by Penny:
... because⌠MC still does have a baby face. And itâs kinda weird because it seems like some characters did get a face upgrade? Like Penny, for example. So⌠I donât know what to think about it. I hope it can still be changed, but Iâm not holding my breath.
Still, MC is not what bothers me the most. Also, I canât say I expected better because I know itâs better to not expect anything from JC. However, there is one thing I have to rant about. NamelyâŚ
WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?? WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO MY MAN?!
I was already worried when it was revealed that Callum will be shorter, but they also changed his face?! He looks like Callumâs baby brother! WHYYYYY?? Why canât Callum just look older than MC when he is in fact older??
To be clear, I still love Callum with my whole heart, and I think heâs the best part of Beyond Hogwarts. But⌠whyâŚ? đ˘
#hogwarts mystery#hphm#hphm spoilers#hphm mc#ruby honeysuckle#crescent flump#callum mcclintock#beyond hogwarts#jam city#ask#chiefchildangel
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Room 107 // chapter I // JJ Maybank (smut)
I have started my first JJ story, which will consist of several chapters that I will constantly be updating. The story picks up where season 2 leaves us. TW: Contains mentions of drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex and violence.Â
Chapter 1 can be found below. Oh, and - please feel free to submit requests, I tend to write a lot ;)Â
Enjoy xx
Chapter 1 - La Guardiana
Days had passed since the Pogues had last seen civilisation, maybe even weeks. The sun was hotter than ever, with close to no wind to mask the warmth. JJ was taking this particularly badly.Â
âIâm so done with eating bananas, man,â he moaned, kicking a pebble as he trotted a little behind the rest of his friends, âCanât we just stumble across an oasis or something and end up in, like, an actual city?â
As if on command, his friends stopped in their tracks, the girls awing and the guys smiling happily.Â
âWe just might, JJ,â said John B, looking at the city unfolding itself in front of them in the distance, âWe just might.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
âIâm actually starving,â laughed Sarah, nudging John Bâs arm, âDonât tease!â âHey, so am I,â he cooed, âFirst joint we find, weâre going in for food.â Kiara rolled her eyes, âAs much as I would love to accept that offer, let me remind you that we have no money.â Sarah nodded, âMhm, nothing at all.â âNada,â John B looked at the two girls sternly, âAnd when has that ever stopped us exactly?â Kiara rolled her eyes once again, smirking at her friend, âAlright, I suppose a good meal would give me the energy Iâd need to run a marathon after getting caught not paying.â
The group continued walking down a not too busy street, studying the buildings, looking for a restaurant, cafe, diner - anything, really. They hadnât had a proper meal in God knows how long and they were famished. They couldnât help but notice how all the buildings on the street were of the same height - no more than four storeys each, all painted in different colours. If they hadnât known any better, theyâd have thought that they had left the United States of America altogether, although one thing was certain - they were definitely not in the Outer Banks anymore.Â
The street wasnât crowded at all, there were hardly any cars or people lurking about. JJ concluded that this was probably an unpopular area of whichever city they were in. This would also explain the lack of supermarkets and restaurants. He really wanted to ask his friends to stop for a little break - his throat was so dry and his legs could barely hold him up anymore, but he knew better. The longer they walk, the faster theyâll find what they are looking for. Having no indicator of the time on them wasnât helping either, hell, they could have been walking for 12 hours for all he knew, and with no result.Â
âMaybe we should just ask someone,â Pope suggested, âNeither of us is a wanted criminal anymore, Iâd say we have nothing to worry about.â John B smirked at his friendâs remark, but ultimately agreed to ask the first person they ran into where the nearest food joint was. Turns out, they were standing right in front of it.Â
âLa Cubanita Hotel and Restaurantâ it spelled out in bold, red letters. The building was narrow and a light shade of blue, totally contrasting the obnoxiously coloured sign planted in front of it. Much like the rest of the buildings on the street, it had no more than four floors, each consisting of a row of Spanish windows with brightly coloured frames. The Pogues looked at each other with a hint of uncertainty before John B lead the way into the building.Â
On the inside it looked like a typical diner - tiled floor, red and blue booths, a long bar accompanied by bar stools and, cheesily enough, a boombox. JJ guessed that the way to the hotel was through the back, but he didnât put too much thought into it. The place seemed dead, with only one of the booths being busy. It was either an off-peak hour or this city was actually a ghost town.Â
The group sat at one of the booths on the other side of where the other people were and JJ took a second to observe them. A group of bikers, all wearing stereotypical biker outfits from leather jackets down to bandanas. They were in their mid 50s and were all smoking indoors, drinking what looked like whiskeys, despite of the blazing sun still very much being out. JJ had to give it to them though, they did look pretty darn cool if he did say so himself, and those cigarettes looked eerily appetising to him at this given moment. Oh, what heâd give to have a sip of whatever they were having and a long, much needed drag of one of their cigarettes. He was so lost in his daydream, he barely realised Kiara poking him in the arm.Â
âJJ,â she urged, âWaitress is here!â In this moment JJ turned his attention to the new subject in question, their waitress. She was standing at the foot of their booth, wearing her uniform, black and red, holding a pen and a notepad, chewing a piece of gum, waiting for his order. Could this place get any more stereotypical? JJ thought to himself. âSo whatâs it gonna be, handsome?â She said, not even bothering to look in his direction. âUhâŚâ JJ fumbled with the menu, âIâll just have whatever theyâre having.â He said, pointing at the bikers in the booth across from theirs. The woman rolled her eyes, popping her bubblegum. She took the rest of the Poguesâ orders before disappearing somewhere behind the bar. JJ followed her with his eyes, blocking out the conversation his friends were currently having. The waitress came back out of what he assumed to be the kitchen and handed the paper with their orders to another girl behind the bar. JJ guessed she was the barmaid, and boy was she a bit of him.Â
She was wearing the same uniform as her colleague, although JJ had to admit - it looked a whole lot better on her, at least from what he could see from above the bar. Her hair was long and brown, half of it tied up effortlessly, and slightly messily, although JJ didnât mind one bit. He watched her as she took the paper from her colleague and went to fetch the drinks written on it. He couldnât make out what exactly colour her eyes were, and quite frankly - he didnât really care, she was gorgeous regardless of what her eyes looked like, and she looked around his age. Had the sun and heat gotten to his head, or was it just the fact that he hadnât touched a female in so long, he didnât know, but if there was one thing JJ Maybank was notorious for, it was his ability to pull any girl his heart desired effortlessly. This is why he excused himself from the table and, albeit his friendsâ confused looks and comments, he made his way towards the bar, sliding into one of the stools directly across from the girl.Â
She looked up at him, âCan I help you?â âBrownâŚâ JJ mumbled to himself. âExcuse me?â She said, this time sounding slightly annoyed. Her eyes were brown, JJ thought, brown and sexy. He coughed, trying to compose himself and gave her his signature Maybank stare. It worked wonders back home, surely it would work wonders now again. âNameâs JJ,â he said suavely, âIâm not from around here-â âClearly,â she muttered, picking up a bottle of whiskey. JJ assumed it was for him, âArenât you a little young to be drinking, JJ?â
JJ smirked, âWhat can I say, I have the face of a boy but the body and mind of a man.â The girl snickered under her nose, âSure. Well since youâre here, make yourself useful and bring your drinks over to your friends,â she gave him a fake smile, placing a tray with their orders on it in front of him, after which she turned her back to him and walked towards the back of the bar. JJ was too busy observing her behind to notice the other waitress standing next to him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. âShould I take that or will you?â She said, waking JJ up from his everlasting daydream. âOh, uh, donât sweat itâŚâ he said, picking up the tray and carrying it over to his friendsâ booth. âSo much for customer service,â Sarah laughed. âAnd to think my dad says Iâm hostile to our customers,â Kiara muttered out. JJ took his seat next to her, his eyes never leaving the bar. âLa Guardiana,â Pope read out loud, âThis place is called La Guardiana, and apparently weâre somewhere in Florida.â âFlorida?â John B said, confusion dripping through his words. Pope nodded, pointing at some text on the bottom of the menu.Â
La Cubanita Hotel & Restaurant **, 97 Diegoâs Crescent, La Guardiana, FLÂ
âHoly shit, weâre in Florida!â John B whisper yelled. Sarah laughed at his reaction, âCalm down now, Sancho, letâs not draw any attention to us,â âYeah, you might wanna tell Casanova here that,â teased Pope, nodding his head in JJâs direction, âWas it really worth it to potentially blow our cover just to talk to that girl?â JJ snapped at Pope, âHey, man, just âcuz you donât have the nuts to go over there and talk to her yourself,â âYeah, I really want to attract the staffâs attention, you know, even more than we already are, seeing as weâre the only other busy table at this place.â âYour food,â the waitress from earlier was back with some of the Poguesâ orders. They waited for her to be out of earshot and JJ spoke up, âRelax, P, I bet you I can charm the pants off that girl and we wonât even need to sneak out without paying!â Pope gave JJ a fake smile, âMhm, Iâm sure sheâs gonna be so deep under your spell she wonât even notice us leaving without paying a cent." JJ rolled his eyes, picking up a toothpick from the table and placing it between his teeth. âMight even offer us a place to crash, you know, because sheâll be so captivated by you.â Pope continued to tease. âYeah, chicks totally dig this whole Iâm homeless and I havenât properly showered in like 15 days look you're going for,â Sarah joined in on the teasing. Kiara laughed and added, âYeah, and the bit thatâs gonna fully seal the deal for her is that you have literally nothing to offer her, like 0 dollars.â Everyone was laughing while JJ just crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned to look out the window, âTalk all you want, guys, but once we get that gold back, youâll see whoâll dig what.â âThe rest of your order,â he recognised the girlâs voice. It was her bringing their food over this time. She placed John Bâs plate in front of him and then made her way around the table, next to where JJ was sat. She handed him his plate and bent down slightly, so that her lips were on the same level as JJâs ear, âNext time you decide to share your criminal plans, you might wanna talk a bit more quietly.â She whispered, setting his cutlery down for him, âOh, and, you might be charming wherever you come from, but your friendâs right. That shit doesnât work around here.â She said, patting him on the shoulder before walking away. JJ didnât waste time sitting around to listen to his friends pass comments about what had just happened, he downed his whiskey and practically chased after the girl. âIâm guessing youâll want another one?â She said, not even turning around. JJ wondered how she knew that he was there. When she turned to face him, the bottle of whiskey was in her hand. âLetâs see⌠Do I pour you another one and close my eyes about you planning to leave without paying, or do I do what anyone else in my position would do and call the police on you? HmmâŚâ she pretended to think, her eyes never leaving JJâs now panicking ones. âPlease donât call the cops,â he blurted out, the whiskey hitting his brain and making him stress out more than he wanted to admit to, âLook, we - we were in a boat accident, we donât even know how we got here, hell - we didnât even know where we were up until 10 minutes ago! And we - we donât have any documents on us, we donât have any sort of identification, what would you -â âRelax, kid,â the girl smirked, picking up two glasses and pouring a generous amount of whiskey in both of them, âI wonât rat you out.â She said, handing JJ one of the glasses and raising hers for a toast. JJ clinked his glass with hers, a large smile growing on his face, his dimples becoming very prominent, âThank you, really⌠That means a lot.â The girl took a moment to observe JJ, then to look at his friends having a heated conversation at their booth, all of them practically stuffing their faces with food in an almost animalistic sort of way. Could this boy really be telling the truth? Could these kids have been lost at sea with no place to go? She looked back at JJ who was also looking at her. Despite the smile plastered on his face, she could clearly see that he was extremely nervous still. âHey,â she said, âI told you to relax, didnât I. I wonât charge you for your food, in fact⌠I might even have a place for you to sleep and clean up tonight.â JJâs eyes grew wider at her words, âYou what?â She leaned in closer to him over the bar and lowered her voice so that he would be the only one to hear, âHotel upstairs, my aunt owns it. Sheâs currently out of town with my cousin. Should be back next Thursday. I think I can fit you and your friends in. You just have to promise to be on your best behaviour.â She said, pulling away and taking another sip from her drink. JJ couldnât believe what he was hearing. It was too good to be true. She was hot and she was willing to help? This must have been his lucky day. Sarah could suck it, and so could the others. Clearly this girl was into him. Why else would she be offering to help? âSo, uh, whatâs in it for me?â He asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. The girl opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the other waitress groaned from behind her. âSamara, how many times do I have to tell you?â Her croaky voice rang. The girl, who JJ had just learned was called Samara, rolled her eyes and repeated with her colleague, âNo drinking on the job, yeah yeah, I know. But Heatherâs gone and so is Conner, so who can tell me what to do, really?â She said, finishing what was left of her whiskey, âBesides, Georgia, as far as Iâm concerned, since theyâre both gone, that leaves me in charge, no? Now get back to work,â she said, making her colleague roll her eyes at her. Samara turned around to face JJ again, giving him a wink, before disappearing into the kitchen. JJ couldnât believe his luck. He swung his arm over the bar and picked up the bottle of whiskey to pour himself one more drink before returning to his friends. âGuys-â JJ tried getting their attention. âSo what are we supposed to do now? Weâre totally screwed!â âTheyâre gonna call the police on us, hell, they probably already have! The cops could be on their way!â âGuys!â JJ yelled, catching even the bikersâ attention. His friends looked up at him, worry filling all of their eyes. âYouâll never believe what Iâm about to tell you, oh, and Sarah? You can eat your words.â He smirked before telling them what had just happened. âHold on,â said Kiara, her face revealing her confusion, âSo this random girl in this random place just randomly said that we can crash here until when?â âNext Thursday, or was it Tuesday? What day is it today?â JJ scratched his head. âJJ!â Kiara slapped his arm, âWhat if this is a trap? It sounds too good to be true doesnât it? Like, whatâs in it for her? We donât even know her! What if sheâs a murderer or something?â âSheâs right, you know,â Cleo chimed in. âShe is,â said John B, âBut we have nothing to lose, literally.â Pope nodded, âIâd usually agree with Kie, but John Bâs right. We have nothing to lose. And what if she calls the police? What could even happen then? We get put in jail for agreeing to sleep in a hotel for free? Come on, guys, Iâm sure we can all agree that a bar of soap and a normal bathroom would do us good. I mean, we stink.â Everyone laughed at Popeâs remark before Kiara turned to JJ again, âSo whatâs the plan?â Realisation just struck JJ that he didnât in fact know what the plan was. Samara had told him virtually nothing about how any of this would go down. Where were they supposed to meet? Was she going to take them to their rooms? Would they all be sharing one room? He was so busy thinking about how all of this would go down, he barely noticed Samara herself passing him a note. It was taken out of her colleague, who JJ now knew to be Georgiaâs notepad. The note read in messy handwriting:
Bring your friends to the lobby. Straight down the hallway by the bathrooms.Â
JJ turned the piece of paper towards his friends and they all got up, rushing towards the hallway by the bathrooms.
#outer banks#jj maybank#obx#pope heyward#kiara carrera#jj one shot#jj smut#obx smut#sarah cameron#john b#jj x oc#netflix#love#smut
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WIP Wednesday - Letâs Talk Music
Thank you to @cleverblackcat @kittynomsdeplume @noire-pandora and @morganlefaye79 for tagging me!
I donât have any writing to really offer today. Iâve been trying to work on that Haven fic but unfortunately Aloysius hasnât been co-operating with me despite all my best efforts to make him speak. I may take a break from writing and pivot towards completing some art memes, but Wednesday just sort of crept up on me and here we are. So instead, Iâm sharing something that both is but also isnât a work in progress?
Itâs âin progressâ because while Iâm happy with where it currently is, Iâve said that about playlists and soundtracks before and later changed them. Iâve worked hard on this and talked several friendsâ ears off about songs Iâve heard or artists that seemed to work and thanks to their feedback I think this is a really good one. Itâs gone through several edits as well, and may potentially even go through more down the road. So Iâm saying this counts for today.
If you give it a listen (and I hope you do because Iâm very proud of it so far), I hope you enjoy it and maybe discover an artist you didnât know before. It clocks in at around 51 minutes and features 13 tracks which span Quinn Trevelyanâs story and important events of the main game through to Trespasser.
If you are interested, below the cut is a list of tracks and a brief blurb or description about who or what theyâre meant to represent. I was going to go into things in more depth and talk about how I built it, why I picked the songs I did, and the B-Sides that were left on the cutting room floor, but after realizing I had written nearly 4 pages about just as many songs, I realized it was too much for anyone to read. So below is just a very brief summary and I think that most of the music would speak for itself, but Iâm happy to expand more on anything that anyone finds either interesting⌠or confusing.  (There is also Solas content because I knew a few of you love that.)
You have to click on this sentence to go to the playlist because Tumblrâs coding for âRead Moreâ seems to be conflicting with the HTML code to embed a functional playlist.  Because of course it is.
Quinnâs tarot card is the Wheel of Fortune as his story is a series of unpredictable highs and lows. What the Maker giveth, He also taketh away. The playlist follows that trend of highs and lows with upbeat songs followed by darker or more mellow ones. Whenever I create a playlist, I try to think of a general tone or sound that I want to be carried through the soundtrack. I want the overall genre or sound to tell the story as much as the individual songs. Because of that, youâll see artists repeat a couple of times, and when they do itâs always intentional. Youâll also notice that most of the vocalists are male. This was again intentional because this is Quinnâs story, and heâs a man. They are his songs and I wanted the vocals to reflect that.
The Cult of Dionysus - pre-Conclave Quinn
Quinn at his most basic and stereotypical before any character development happens whatsoever - poppish, upbeat, and maybe just a little obnoxious. He smokes, he drinks, he fucks, and nothing else matters.
The Sound of Silence - Aloysiusâ Theme
I like Aloysius as a more practical view and examination of Quinn and the cult that grows around him. He affords an opportunity to look at Quinn both as the Herald but also as just a person. He is stoic and mild-mannered, a dutiful soldier, and an excellent foil for Quinn. This is also absolutely a reference to an Arrested Development joke.
Isle of Dogs - Quinnâs true theme
Quinn is a walking disaster constantly falling victim to his own hubris. Thereâs a morose sort of resentment to the lyrics, of someone who is constantly struggling against the tide. In a lot of ways, this is basically a reaction or push back to all the crap I have put him through.
Providence - âIn Hushed Whispersâ
There are no Templars here. The first few lines relate a lot to the dismissal the fledgling Inquisition receives from what remains of the Chantry, but the rest of the lyrics are very much about the mages and Fionaâs dealings with the Venatori.
Seven Devils - âIn Your Heart Shall Burn
No male vocals in this one to symbolize the change in perspective. This is both a bit of an easy and obvious choice for this story beat. Female vocals for Corypheus might seem strange, but when I created my Wardenâs soundtrack I tended to use powerful choruses and female vocals for anything related to Blight, Archdemons, or the darkspawn. I carried that idea over to this as Corypheus is one of the seven Magisters.
Caesar - becoming the Inquisitor
This is a softer and quiet interlude in the wake of the loss of Haven and struggle through the snow. If the previous song marks the end of the first act, this song marks the beginning of the second.
King - âHere Lies the Abyssâ
In my written world state, Alistair is both the king and the Grey Warden contact (this goes back to that longform fic I am working on). I suppose itâs a bit unfair because in the end that has a major impact on why Quinn makes the decision he does at Adamant (a rather threatening letter from the Warden helps too). Think of this as a duet between Quinn and Hawke.
My Type - the love interest
âHere Lies the Abyssâ was completed first, then a romance triggered, then âWicked Eyes and Wicked Heartsâ. This is that sort of inbetween interlude and is very much inspired by how I may have flirted with multiple characters a little too much and basically triggered several romances at once. I also went into Quinnâs playthrough having no idea who I was going to romance and just let him shop around. And it came down to a coin flip in the end, so âyou have a pulse and you are breathingâ is pretty much the only standards he has.
Boheme Supreme - party at Halamshiral
All I have to say is that I love techno swing, every single lyric in this song is perfect, and I want you all to picture Quinn Trevelyan walking into the Winter Palace with his Inner Circle entourage around him, dressed up in that outfit I drew with that peacock feathered cap and having a drink in his hand throughout the entire nightâs affair.
Hellâs Coming With Me - âDoom Upon All the Worldâ
This is the climax of the main game, the rematch between Quinn and Corypheus which I have to imagine is more impressive in concept than it was in game. I chose the dialogue option when Corypheus calls Quinn an imposter, âI am the Makerâs chosenâ as his final challenge. Sometimes itâs easy to forget that this main is actually very Andrastian. But he is, and the lyrics, âI am the righteous hand of God/And I am the Devil that you forgot/And I told you one day will see/Iâll be back I guarantee/And that Hellâs coming with meâ are the perfect declaration.
Paradise - Jaws of Hakkon & The Descent
Another interlude song. If the previous one is triumphant than this one is the beginning of a bad turn. In the interim between the events of the main game and the Exalted Council, things begin to go wrong in little ways. His relationship with Cassandra begins to break down, eventually ending in the two of them having frequent spats and going their separate ways after returning from the Frostback Basin. This song is deceptively sarcastic about how good things are.
I Still Love You, Judas - Solasâ Betrayal
Solas⌠oh, Solas. Does this song indicate a very complicated and layered relationship between Quinn and Solas? Yes! Have I attempted to unpack any of this? Nope! Have fun with this one!
Tagging for this week: @kita-lavellan @silvanils @nivenor-krosis @drag-on-age @rosella-writes @inquisitoracorn
Battle Cries - Quinn and Cassandra
I saved this one for the very end because it is a story within a story. It is sad and bittersweet, but also not. This entire thing feels to me like a duet between Quinn and Cass on what was good, what could never last, and that itâs all over now but thatâs okay. Because âthis isnât a breakup, dear heart, itâs a season finale.â Does this mean that Quinn sounds like Joey Batey when he sings? Sure, why not.
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Fuck Buddies
pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem! reader
warnings: smut, cursing
word count: 5,093
note: I honestly didnât expect to be back so soon with more filth, but here we are. Iâm definitely going to hell for this one, considering I wrote most of it while my family was watching Easter mass downstairs :) but hey, Iâll see yaâll there considering you guys are reading this. This is pure self-indulgence, and I have no regrets.
summary: Despite only being fuck buddies, Katsuki feels the need to remind you of your place.Â
°âŠââŠÂ°
The heavy boom of bass resounds off the walls of the club, sending fire alight through your veins. Multicolored strobe lights flash across sweaty bodies on the dance floor, illuminating everyone in a provocative glow. Off to the side, you occupy a seat at the rather empty bar, fidgeting with a half-empty glass.
Suddenly, a hot body slams into your side, sweaty skin pressing against your own exposed flesh. A loud giggle explodes from the culprit, and you turn to see your close friend, Mina, has come up next to you. The pink-haired girl stumbles slightly before hoisting herself up into a seat and grinning at you toothily.
Mina is quick to order herself a drink, downing half of it in one go. Your friend turns to you and shouts your name to gain your attention over the music. âWhereâs Blasty? Has anyone heard from that guy?â She asks, referring to a certain explosive blonde.
You take your bottom lip in between your teeth, chewing on the already chapped flesh. Katsuki was supposed to meet you and your friends here almost an hour ago, but he hasnât arrived. According to your phone, he hasnât read any of the messages youâve sent him either.
With a little shrug, you give a halfhearted answer. âI have no idea. Why the hell would I know?â
The pink-haired girl flashes you a knowing smile. âOh, I donât know⌠You two have gotten pretty close lately.â
You grumble. âThe hell we have!â
Thoughts start running rabid around your head. Obviously, youâre lying to Mina. Over the past few months, you and Katsuki have certainly gotten close. At first, it was nothing more than late-night drinking together, ranting about the struggles of hero work.
After several nights filled with booze and an absurd amount of yelling on the blondeâs part, things changed. Katsuki had a particularly rough time at work one day, and he needed to take his intense frustrations out on something. That something just happened to be you. For hours, the explosive hero ravaged you, his calloused hands gripping your hips with bruising force as he thrust his delicious cock into you. The mere thought of that night is enough to make you throb.
From that time on, the two of you formed a mutual understanding. Essentially, you and Katsuki became fuck buddies. Whenever either of you needed to let off a little steam, you would go to one another. Â Apparently, the increasing amount of time you and Katsuki started to spend together didnât go unnoticed by your friends, considering the way Mina is currently eyeing you.
âYou keep telling yourself that,â The girl mutters playfully, the corner of her lips rising in a devious smirk.
In the seat next to you, Mina finishes her drink and abruptly stands. She stumbles again, falling into your body and placing her hands on your very exposed thighs for support. The girl giggles an apology before straightening herself and grabbing your hand. âWell, letâs go dance!â She announces, lifting you up. âYou canât just wait at the bar until that idiot shows up. Let loose and have fun!â
Your eyes widen slightly, and Mina cackles at your expression. Before you have a chance to pull away, the girl has already hauled you towards the dance floor, thrusting you into a circle made up of your other friends that had come along.
Denki and Hanta cheer at your arrival, coming up to either side of you and pulling you into a ridiculous dance. Their laughter can be heard even over the obnoxiously loud music, and without realizing it, you are joining them in their fun. Briefly, Eijirou comes up to ask where is best friend is, and he looks crestfallen when you say you donât know.
Filled with newfound energy, you stay out on the dance floor, swaying your hips in time to the music and running your hands down your body. Feeling daring, mostly due to the alcohol you ingested earlier, you begin to grind back, accentuating your physique. With your free hands, you run them up your body, and along the curves your outfit emphasizes. Eventually, Mina comes up behind you, playfully smacking your ass, and you play along, grinding into her further. Around you, your friends whoop and cheer at your antics.
Towards the edge of the circle, Shouto is off to the side, halfheartedly moving to the music. Grinning, you head over to him, mischief playing on your delicate features. The boy immediately becomes suspicious but has no chance to do anything as you swiftly grab him by his sleeve and drag him forcefully into the middle of the dance floor. Off to the side, your friends laugh at the reserved boyâs confused and slightly startled expression.
Denki shouts your name behind you. âHelp him loosen up! Show Shouto how to have some fun!â
Your lips curl into a devilish smile as you instantly realize what Denki is suggesting. Shouto stiffens when you turn around, and start dancing, your backside hovering dangerously close to his crotch. Coincidentally, the music changes to something with a more sensual beat, and that only eggs you on further. Shouto nearly jumps back when you brush against him, but youâre quick to grab his hands and put them on your hips.
âLike this, Shouto,â You guide the lost boy, trying to get him to move his body in sync with yours. When you feel him slowly start to relax, you take your hands away from their place on top of his and begin to dive further into the music.
Off to the side, Mina is recording the two of you dancing, laughing maniacally at the sight. The remainder of your friends stare in shock at the sight of the usually cold Shouto dancing with you in such a provocative way.
Becoming bold, you harshly press your ass against the manâs groin. Rather than pull away like you expected him to, Shouto just barks a loud laugh, holding your hips tighter. âNot that Iâm complaining, but do you have a death wish?â Shouto whispers into your ear.
With a confused expression, you angle your head to meet his bicolored eyes. The man nods his head in the direction of your group of friends. There, in the middle of everyone, stands a very pissed off blonde.
Katsuki dons a formal suit, and he seems to have taken off the matching jacket. The thin fabric of his dress shirt stretches deliciously over his muscles, highlighting his body in the best way possible. The blondeâs gaze meets yours, a deep fire burning within his crimson eyes.
You immediately straighten up against Shouto, and the man laughs again. He pats you on the shoulder as if bidding you good luck before walking off. Gulping, you meagerly make your way over to Katsuki. On the sidelines, your friends watch in amusement. It is painfully obvious to them that the two of you have something going on, and it was honestly hilarious to see you guys try and hide it.
When you make your way over to Katsuki, you feign confidence. âWhere were you?â You question with a small frown on your lips.
The blonde looks you over, drinking in your form. His breath hitches upon seeing the scandalous outfit you had chosen. The tight black fabric hugs you beautifully, not to mention the several slits in the fabric that expose your supple skin. Â âI got stuck at a damn press conference.â He grumbles, annoyance brimming in his ruby eyes.
âOh,â You groan in sympathy. Press conferences were the worst, and you know how much Katsuki hates them. As a top hero, the media is always hounding him with dozens of questions.
With a click of his tongue, Katsuki is dragging you off the dancefloor and lugging you towards the bar. He takes a seat in one of the stools and forces you into the one next to him. The blonde is quick to order a drink. He then turns to you, mouth twisted in an unfriendly scowl.
âWhat the fuck were you doing with Icy Hot?â He demands, lazily taking a sip from his glass before placing it back down on the counter, eyes never leaving yours.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat. âWe were just dancing,â
âYeah, no shit,â Katsuki sneers in response, eyes narrowing.
You roll your eyes. âWell, then why did you ask?â
Katsuki turns in his seat so that his body faces yours. He reaches out a hand and grabs your chin, forcing you to look him head-on. âI just wanna know why the fuck you were grinding on that bastard like a little slut.â He spits.
Shuddering in his grasp, you smirk. âSometimes I think you forget that I can do whatever the fuck I want, Katsuki.â
An animalistic growl erupts from the blondeâs chest, and he leans in closer to your face. âDo you wanna rethink that statement, Princess?â Katsuki demands, fingering the space in your dress where a small slit opens directly below your bust.
A shaky breath escapes you. âShouto is just my friend⌠itâs not like he got handsy with me, not that it would even matter if he did. We were just having fun.â
Katsuki licks his chapped lips. âI think you need to be reminded of your place,â He snarls.
The heroâs fingers slide further into the slit in your dress, lightly grazing your breasts. Katsuki catches your soft gasp with his lips, pressing a searing kiss against your delectable lips.
You whine when the blonde pulls away, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. âLook at what a slut you are, moaning for me in public. Just a moment ago, you looked ready to fuck Shouto. Are you that much of a whore that you canât even wait for me? Are you so desperate that youâd even fuck one of our friends?â
Katsuki swipes his calloused thumb against your sensitive nipple, feeling it harden under his touch. His other hand remains at your waist, keeping your body close to his. âKatsuki, please,â You beg, arching into his rough hands.
Roughly, the explosive man chuckles. âI think we need to leave. You need to learn just exactly who you belong to.â He whispers, hot breathe fanning against your ear.
With a low groan, you nod. Katsuki removes his hands from your body and takes your wrist in his hand. He drags you out to the front of the club and takes you to his car. You had initially gotten a ride from Mina, so you made sure to text her that you were leaving with Katsuki. In response to your message came an onslaught of very suggestive emojis.
While the blonde drives to his apartment, he keeps one hand on the wheel and the other firmly planted on your inner thigh. Every so often, he slides his hand closer to your core. His mere touch is much more intoxicating than anything you drank while at the club.
Before long, Katsuki is parking the car and leading you into his apartment. As soon as the door shuts, rough hands are aggressively pushing you against the adjacent wall, pinning your wrists above your head. Katsuki peers down at you, eyes dark with lust.
The blonde dives down, lips locking with yours in a passionate kiss. Katsuki fervently tries to force his tongue into your mouth, but you coyly deny him entrance. With a grunt, the man thrusts his knee between your legs and presses it against your heat. You gasp at the sudden friction, and Katsuki takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of you.
You moan hotly into the kiss, unconsciously rocking onto Katsukiâs knee that remains pressed against you. The blonde pulls away, chuckling darkly. âLook at what a fucking slut you are, getting off on my knee. Like a bitch in heat.â He taunts, pressing searing kisses against your jaw, slowly trailing down to your neck and biting harshly.
Desperate to touch the gorgeous man in front of you, you try to wriggle your hands out of his iron grip. Unfortunately, that only makes Katsuki hold you tighter and bite deeply at the base of your neck. âPlease, Kat,â You pant out, desperation lacing your voice.
You whine as Katsuki drops his knee from its place in between your legs, the loss of contact only making you crave him more. The blonde also releases your hands, placing both of his to grasp your thighs. âJump,â He mutters against your skin.
You yelp when the hero lifts you up, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist. Katsuki attaches his lips to your collar bone, sucking with bruising force. The man carries you all the way to his bedroom, throwing you down onto his plush bed.
When you look up, Katsuki is standing over you, panting slightly. He brings one of his hands up to the stuffocating tie around his neck, and he aggressively loosens it, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He takes his time looking you over, nimble fingers undoing the top few buttons of his dress shirt to reveal a toned chest underneath.
The man smirks as he sees your eyes trailing hungrily over his body. He quickly climbs on the bed, planting himself over you. With a hum, he runs a hand along your body, starting at your breast and slowly making his way down to your thigh. When he reaches the edge of your dress, he yanks it up, exposing you to him.
Katsuki immediately groans at the sight of your bare pussy. âOh? Were you hoping Iâd catch a glimpse of your pussy at the club and take you right there?â he growls, spreading your legs.
âNo, I just didnât want any panty lines-â Youâre interrupted by a sharp slap to your clit.
Your back arches and you hiss at the rough treatment. âDonât fucking lie to me. Just admit that youâre a slut.â
Katsuki runs a finger between your folds, coating his fingers with your slick. His thumb pays close attention to your clit, rubbing painfully slow circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your wanton moans fill the room, pleasure slowly consuming you. You rock your hips against his hand, hoping to gain more friction.
Another slap comes to your core, causing you to yelp. âDid I say you could fucking do that?â Katsuki grumbles, fury etched on his face.
You shake your head timidly. âSince it seems that you still think you can do whatever the fuck you want and get away with it, Iâm going to have to teach you a lesson, Princess.â He sighs into your ear, hand abandoning your pussy and reaching up to practically tear your dress off.
Once your clothes are removed, Katsuki takes you by the waist and turns you so that youâre on your stomach, ass up in the air. The blonde delivers a stinging smack to your ass before dragging his thumb through your wetness, watching your pussy quiver under his touch. âSo fucking wet for me, and Iâve barely done a thing to you.â
Behind you, Katsuki begins to undress until heâs just as naked as you. If you look up, you can see the blonde through a mirror placed in front of you. His thick cock stands proudly, the tip red and weeping with precum.
The man spots you ogling him through the mirror and grins, landing yet another harsh slap to your behind. You groan, arching your back, the shocks of pain morphing into an intoxicating pleasure that courses through your veins.
Katsuki laughs before dropping down and licking a strip up your core. You gasp at the feeling of his hot tongue on you, eagerly pressing yourself closer to him, begging for more. The blonde obliges, his tongue returning to your mound, moving expertly in ways he knows will make you lose control. He fucks you with his tongue, every now and then going down to suckle softly on your clit, slightly grazing you with his teeth.
The blonde moans into you, the taste of you inebriating. His guttural sounds send sweet vibrations through you, eliciting gasps and whines from you. Suddenly, Katsuki has his lips locked around your clit, his fingers plunging into your pussy, curling into you deliciously. Pressure begins to build up in your core, threatening to release. âOh, fuck, Katsuki!â You nearly scream as he grazes his teeth over your clit.
Just as youâre about to come undone, Katsuki removes himself from you, lips and fingers leaving your trembling body, mercilessly denying you your release. Katsuki brings his hand down on the side of your ass, activating his quirk the tiniest bit. Heat blooms along your body, and the blonde continues to run his hands over every inch of your skin, keeping his quirk activated.
You press your head into the mattress, helplessly moaning as Katsuki continues his blissful assault on your body. When he finally pulls away, you are wrecked, thighs shaking, and a string of drool escaping your mouth.
Katsuki grabs your waist and turns you around to face him, groaning when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. You look him over, and your eyes are soon trained on his dick, the way it looks painfully hard, almost begging to be sucked.
Peering up at the blonde, you weakly crawl to him, wrapping your hand around his shaft. Deftly, you stroke him, spreading his precum around his length. Katsuki nearly whimpers, watching your every move.
You start with small kitten licks, kissing your way up his cock. Your hand remains on him the whole time, pumping him painfully slow. Katsuki throws his head back at your ministrations, a low groan rumbling from his chest. You can see the muscles in his thighs flex delightfully as he tries to control himself.
Before the blonde forces your head down onto his cock out of impatience, you sink your mouth down onto him. Your tongue laps at the underside of his cock, and your free hand goes to stroke his heavy balls.
You bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks out. When you start to use your tongue on the head of his cock, Katsuki sifts a hand through your hair, grabbing a handful and forcing you down onto him. You gag at being forced to take him all at once so suddenly, and Katsuki groans when you flatten your tongue against his base. The blonde loosens his grip on your hair but keeps his hand on you as a guide while you blow him. A silent reminder that heâs still in control.
Slowly, you begin to pick up speed, bobbing your head up and down faster and faster. You use a hand to pump whatever length you are unable to fit into your mouth; your other hand still preoccupied with fondling the heroâs balls. Katsuki curses your name. âShit, just like that, Princess. Keep going,â He praises, his eyes never leaving you. His rough hand still remains tangled in your hair, slightly yanking the strands as you continue to suck him off.
As you are about to deepthroat the man, he suddenly pulls your hair, stilling your movements. Instead, he keeps you still while he starts to thrust his hips, fucking himself into your mouth. His pace starts nice and even, but he soon begins to pick up speed. Your eyes water as Katsukiâs cock hits the back of your throat, spilling onto your cheeks. Â
Katsukiâs pace reaches a relentless speed. Heâs moaning loudly, your name spilling out of his mouth like a mantra. The sound of you choking and gagging on his dick makes the blonde go wild as his thrusts become erratic, losing every sense of rhythm. The muscles in Katsukiâs thighs are contracting, and his lower abdomen is tightening. When you think he is about to come, you thrust your head down onto his cock, enveloping him down to the base.
The blonde yanks you off of him, growling and panting at you as he denies himself his own climax. âDo you want my come?â He asks you cockily. âThatâs too bad, only good girls get what they want.â
Before you can choke out a lame response, Katsuki is turning you around once more, getting on his knees as you raise your ass to the air. The man positions himself directly behind you. Two fingers prod at your opening, slowly sliding into you. You gasp as he begins to scissor his fingers in your cunt, no doubt preparing you to take his dick.
The heroâs calloused fingers slide against your walls so fucking good, you canât help the filthy moans that escape your mouth. Soon, Katsuki is removing his fingers, and you whine disappointedly at the loss. He takes his cock in hand and rubs it mercilessly against your pulsating cunt, spreading your wetness along his length. You moan at the feeling of him teasing you so ruthlessly.
âPlease, Kat,â You whine, fingering closing around the plush bedsheets under you.
The blonde laughs at you. âBeg for my cock, Princess. Show me how much of a good girl you can be.â He taunts.
You nearly sob into the sheets, the need to have him inside you overwhelming. âFuck! Please, Katsuki, I need your cock. Fuck me until I canât walk anymore, please, just use me.â
A sharp inhale sounds from behind you, followed by another crude laugh. Katsuki leans down, his mouth next to your ear. âYouâre gonna have to do better than that.â He whispers, licking the shell of your ear.
âIâm your slut Katsuki, youâre the only one who can fuck me like this. I want you so fucking bad. Please, I need you inside of me. Please.â You cry out, eyes glazed over with desire.
Katsuki slams into you all at once, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You moan obscenely, fisting the sheets beneath you. The man gives you no time to adjust as he pounds into you ruthlessly, delivering slaps to your ass as he sees fit.
âWhat a fucking greedy slut. Your cunt is practically swallowing my cock.â The hero pants out, the way you clench around him elicits a lewd groan from his mouth.
The man sinks his fingers into your hips as he fervently fucks into you, his grip will definitely leave you with bruises tomorrow.
His full balls slap against your sensitive clit as he rams into you, stimulating you to no end. Katsuki bends down once more and leaves a trail of searing hot kisses down your spine. He eventually makes his way to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, which he latches on to with fervor.
Katsuki bites down roughly, then changes to softly suckling on your bruised skin. From your position, you take one of your arms and wrap it around his neck, pressing his mouth further into your neck. Every sweet sound Katsuki let out is like music to your ears, much like your moans are to him.
When Katsuki starts to thrust into you even harder, you lose all strength. Your hand falls from around the blondeâs neck, and your other hand supporting you collapses. The side of your face presses into the mattress as Katsuki fucks you brutally.
The hero brings himself up from his position on your back, and he straightens his posture. When he notices the mirror in front of him, he groans and stills at this sight of you looking absolutely wrecked as you take his cock.
âLook up for me, Princess,â He instructs, looking at you through the mirror. âThatâs a good girl. Watch as I ruin your tight little pussy.â
You groan loudly when your eyes meet in the mirror. Katsuki is positioned behind you, his muscled body covered in a sheen of sweat. His hair is mused, and you can see his muscles ripple through his body with every powerful thrust he gives.
The sight is fucking obscene, and yet you canât bring yourself to look away. The way the blonde looks crazed with sex, his crimson eyes dark and swimming with desire all directed towards you. The thought that youâre the one who made him this fucking needy and drunk on sex lights a fire in your veins.
When Katsukiâs eyes meet yours in the mirror, he gives sharp, punctuated thrusts, hitting your cervix with every time. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, pressure building up in your core. The blonde growls as he feels your cunt clamping tightly around his cock, sucking him into you.
Katsuki looks down, reveling in the way you seem to swallow him up. Carefully, he takes his thumb and collects your juices from your pussy and spreads them against your puckered hole. You still, feeling the man rub against your ass.
âKat, what are you doing?â You manage to pant out.
The man shushes you softly. âJust wait. Itâll feel good, I promise.â
He lightly prods against the tight muscle, his thumb slowly working it open with the help of your own slick. The feeling is foreign and slightly strange, but you make no effort to stop Katsuki. Gradually, he manages to work the entirety of his thumb into you. You groan at the new sensation, your pussy clenching around Katsukiâs cock when he begins to move his finger inside of you.
âShit! Katsuki, fuck,â You groan, biting your lip.
Lightly, Katsuki moves his thumb, only to replace it with his index and middle finger. The blonde curls his fingers inside of your tight ass and you whine at the feeling of being stuffed so fucking full.
The man continues to curl and thrust his fingers into your ass, all the while ramming his big cock into your sopping cunt.
âOh, fuck, please donât stop,â You sob, breaths erratic.
Katsuki snarls at you, pulling his fingers out of you to your dismay. âDonât you dare fucking come, Iâm not even fucking close to being done with you.â
He brings a hand down to your hair, yanking you up and making you cry out. Your back is now flush with Katsukiâs chest, the new position allowing him to angle himself perfectly inside of you. With every thrust, Katsuki pounds into your sweet spot, nearly sending you over the edge.
âRemember what I fucking said, you donât come until I say you do.â The man reminds, his grip on your hair never faltering
Katsukiâs other hand comes down from your waist, and he rubs figure eights on your clit, making you scream. âFuck!â
The sound of skin slapping on skin resounds off the walls of the bedroom as the blonde continues to roughly fuck into you. In the mirror, the sight is absolutely filthy. With every snap of his hips, your breasts bounce, and every inch of your collarbone and neck seems to be covered in marks.
The blonde notices you looking in the mirror and removes the hand pleasuring your clit, reaching it up to grab at one of your tits. He fondles it softly before taking the nipple in between his fingers and rolling it expertly. He slows down the speed of his thrusts as he plays with your body, reducing you to soft whines. Katsuki stares at you with an expression of pure lust as he touches you, and the sight of him enjoying touching you so much is enough to make you whimper.
Upon hearing your noises, Katsuki finally removes his hand from your hair, snaking it down towards your neck. He applies a light pressure before becoming more firm with his hold. He audibly moans at the sight of you in the mirror. You submit to him so fucking easily, almost as if itâs natural.
âLook at you, fuck, finally being a good girl for me.â He murmurs next to your ear, panting in between his words.
While his thrusts are still slow and languid from when he had been exploring you earlier, he gradually picks up his pace, returning to a bruising speed. You nearly scream as his cock slams against your g-spot.
âKatsuki, fuck, Iâm gonna come,â You manage to choke out against the pressure of his hand on your neck.
The blonde grunts and increases the speed of his hips, dropping his hand from your chest to have it return to your clit. He circles the bud deliciously, bucking his hips wildly against you. Katsuki tightens his grip on your neck and presses small kisses to your jawline before coming up to your ear. âCome for me, Princess,â
Stars shoot across your vision as you come undone, pleasure shooting through your veins. The feeling is euphoric as Katsuki continues to thrust into you, chasing his own climax while fucking you through yours.
Sensitivity soon overcomes you, as the hero continues his assault on your sweet-spot. Katsuki loosens his hold on your neck, and eventually, his hands drop to your waist, holding you in place. You angle your head back and reach and arm to grab Katsuki, pulling him into a searing kiss of tongue and teeth. When you pull away, a thin string of saliva connects your lips. Against his mouth, you mutter, âCome inside me, Katsuki.â
With a loud growl, Katsuki gives one last thrust deep into your core, and he moans sinfully as he empties himself into you. Hot ropes of come spill into you, filling your cunt.
The two of you pant heavily, still coming off the high of your orgasms. It takes a moment before either of you move. Slowly, Katsuki pulls himself out of you with a hiss, groaning when he sees his come begins to drip out of your pussy.
A dull ache settles itself between your legs, and you are quick to collapse with your back against Katsukiâs chest. He chuckles softly. âAre you okay?â
You grin. âI just got my insides rearranged. Give me a minute.â
Katsuki barks out a laugh, taking you tenderly in his arms and laying you down on the bed. He kisses your temple softly before entering his bathroom. The blonde returns with a small washcloth, and he cleans you up.
Just as youâre about to fall victim to exhaustion, Katsuki picks you up in his strong arms and takes you into his bathroom. He had started a bath and delicately places you in the very soothing warm water. âThanks, Kat. Youâre the best.â You praise tiredly, half out of your mind.
The man grins at you cockily. âTrust me, I know.â
#bakugou katsuki#bakugo#bnha#mha#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#reader insert#bnha x reader#mha x reader#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#x reader#smut#bakugou imagine#bakugou smut
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FIC:Â Foreign Languages (standalone)
Summary: Rus always thought he was a pretty likable guy. Everyone in Underswap always thought so. So why was it Edge hated him so much?
Tags: Spicyhoney, Enemies to Lovers,Getting Together, Misunderstandings
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~~*~~
Rus took the wet dish from his brotherâs hand and dried it carefully, making sure to get any damp places that would leave spots when they dried. On the counter in front of him were stacks of already dried plates sitting next to the glasses and Rus added the current one to join its brethren. Because despite what some people might think, and say, loudly and frequently, Rus could and did actually help out with the housework.
Okay, it was possible he played up the laziness whenever some people were here, come on, it was funny. That was the joke! And sure, he got some chuckles out of it, but in the end, the fact remained. He helped, thanks, he did have jobs, he put money towards the bills, and he wasnât some lazy, good-for-nothing jackass sponging off his brotherâs goodwill, he wasnâtâ
âYou can quit brooding about it now,â Blue told him. Rus looked down at him. The sink was at his broâs level and unless Rus wanted to sit on the floor while he washed, they usually went with Rus at the drying end of the line. Blue rinsed another plate and handed it up. âTheyâre gone and they wonât be back for another week.â
âthey may be physically gone, but i swear, their presence lingers like a rancid fart in an elevator,â Rus grumbled. He rubbed away the droplets of water with more energy than was probably necessary, but it was probably better the plates took the bulk of his irritation than where he really wanted to shove it. âthe Fell brothers seemed to bring their version of trouble with them wherever they go.â
âWhat I donât understand is why you let him get to you,â Blue sighed. He scrubbed at the casserole dish, attacking the dried-on bits and ugh, gross, there was another reason to be grateful he was tall. âIâm aware you two simply donât get along, but youâre usually so much better than that! How can you ignore every other Monster in the Underground, all with a smile on your face, except him?â
Rus sighed, sagging against the counter. âbro, i dunno. heâs worse than the mating call of piece of styrofoam.â
That was a kind way of putting it as far as Rus was concerned. His undersized clone from murderworld was flat-out fucking obnoxious. Rus could handle insults, hell, when he was doing standup, Rus could handle any heckler from the stage with the finest level of panache. But somehow, that guy managed to find his very last nerve and pounced on it with the kind of accuracy that Robin Hood would envy.
Ignoring that shit was seriously above and beyond the call of duty. The only other option would be going out whenever they were over, but fuck that. This was his house, thanks, and Rus wasnât getting chased out of it by some overblown copy of himself that needed heels to look him in the eye sockets.
Blue rinsed off a handful of silverware and handed it over. âThings are different in Underfell you know that.â
The forks jangled as Rus tossed them roughly on the counter, âso what, that gives him blanket permission to be an asshole?â
âNo,â Blue pulled the plug and wiped his hands on his apron, âbut it also doesnât mean you have to rise to the bait every time.â
âwhy are you only bitching at me and not him?â Rus whined. Honestly, it was so unfair. Just because he was taller didnât mean he always had to be the bigger skeleton. He tossed the rest of the mostly dried silverware in with the forks and flopped down to the floor, wrapping his arms around his bro from behind and hauling him in for a hug. Blue snuggled in obediently, but that wasnât enough to save Rus from the scolding.
âBecause he isn't my brother,â Blue said firmly. âYou are. And if you're waiting on Red to reel him in, I'd suggest not holding your breath.â That was the fucking truth, Red never joined in on the fun, but he tended to sit back and watch the show with a smirk on his face. That was the Underfell brothers, wasnât it, the asshole and the whole ass, and they shared the titles between them. âNow, promise me that you won't let him get to you this weekend.â
Rus grumbled under his breath.
"What was that?â
"I promise," he sighed. He really did hate letting his bro down. He let Blue go and sank back on his heels while he tried very hard not to sulk, because that only made his bro unhappy and didnât solve a thing.
This wasnât the first time Blue begged him to tone it down for a while, but fuck, it was like that asshole was deliberately needling him, seriously, he was begging for an insult. The real problem wasnât that he couldnât control himself, but the simple fact that Edge wasnât gonna make it easy for him.
This past movie night was a case in point. Nothing but jibes, back and forth, from the second Edge walked through the door âtill the moment he set those high heels of his back into the snow.
âTell me, how many piles of filthy clothing did you need to wade through before you found that sweatshirt?â
âonly two, edgelord, wanted to make a good impression. and how many emos did you have to kill to put together that outfit, good on you for getting all the dust out.â
âMy apologies, I suppose having clothing that wasnât scrounged from a vomit-inducing dumpster is offending your sensibilities. Iâll be sure to wade through some filth before our next visit.â
âshouldnât be too hard in underfell, all you have to do is take a stroll outside.â
âDo you think so, I wasnât sure you knew what a stroll was, considering that the couch cushions are sunken in your shape.â
And that was just what Rus remembered from the top of his head. If he could give Edge grudging credit for anything, it was that he was quick with a comeback. Too quick, and constant to boot. By the end of the night, Rus was seething and Blue was exhausted from playing monkey in the middle, trying feebly to keep the peace.
If Edge had ever pointed any of that shit on Blueâs direction, this wouldnât even be an issue. Rus wouldâve shoved their pointy asses back into the portal so fast, the void would be spinning. Whatever problem Edge had with him, though, it didnât extend to Blue. They were chummy as hell, thick as thieves, whatever other fucking metaphor the undernet could spit out.
Seriously, though, if heâd been even the tiniest bit as rude to his bro, this whole movie night thing wouldâve been dumpstered a long time ago.
Only he wasnât. And he wasnât to Papyrus either, or Sans, or any other fucking person heâd seen Edge interact with. Doc Jekyll was perfectly kind and polite to anyone else and only pulled a Monsieur Hyde whenever Rus was close by.
Seemed like Edge saved all his vitriol for him. Lucky lucky him.
Well, this movie night was gonna be different. This time Rus wasnât letting that asshole get to him and that was final.
~~*~~
If Rus knew that ignoring Edge was going to be this amazing, he would have tried it months ago.
It started from the first moment they walked in the house, like it always did. Edge barely kicked off his boots when he called out, âHave you been wearing that same shirt all week, Swapshit? Are you experimenting on whether itâs actually possible to wear something to rags?â
âGuess so,â Rus said absently. He didnât elaborate on it, didnât ask whether Edge shook all the dust out of his ensemble before coming. He only stayed where he was, slumped on the sofa while Blue began the entire convoluted ritual of bringing out popcorn and drinks, chattering about what movies they were planning on watching today and what was for dinner.
Usually Edge would step in and help, but Rusâs lack of reply seemed to have thrown him for a loop. He wavered for a moment then rallied with, âPerhaps you let your brother wash it this week after all, since I doubt youâve laid a hand on a washing machine in months.â
Rus only shrugged vaguely, and the look that flitted across Edgeâs face, a weirdly twisted configuration of confusion, was some sweet shit.
He tried a couple more, adding to the clothes and lazy insults with a coupla digs about his intellect for seasoning and this time Rus didnât even bother with the shrug. He was a tree in the wind, bending beneath the gales, and laughing it the fuck up on the inside. Now this was entertainment.
Sans seemed to have caught on to the deal and he only settled next to a scowling Red on one of the sofas, watching as Edge stood alone in the middle of their living room, fumbling for another insult for Rus to ignore.
Blue and Papyrus were always tall and smol balls of trying to get along, and when Blue gave him a look, Rus only looked back innocently. Hey, he was following his promise to the letter, not letting Edge get to him. If Edge was gonna get worked up into a froth about it, hey, wasnât his fault.
Blue still looked like he wanted to give him a kick in the shin, but didnât seem like he came up with a good excuse for it. He settled for accidentally/deliberately treading on Rusâs foot even as he said, brightly, âHere we go, popcorn and drinks!â
âthanks, bro,â Rus took his bowl and immediately started crunching the salty, buttery goodness.
That seemed to be the ammo Edge was looking for and he latched on quickly, snapping out, âAlways have to be first in line, donât you. Consider leaving some for the rest of us.â
Rus had to resist the urge to scoff, that wasnât even a good one, boo, all the judges give ones, even the Russians.
âHere you are, Edge, popcorn,â Blue said with almost desperate cheer, thrusting a bowl at him.
That seemed to be enough to call for an intermission. Edge took his bowl of popcorn without so much as a thank you and went to sit between Sans and Red. The movie was an old one theyâd all seen before and Rus snuck a couple discreet glances Edgeâs way. He was glowering at the screen as if that laser gaze of his might kill all the actors and spare them this nonsense. Every once in a while, Edge sullenly ate a single kernel of popcorn and holy shit, this was the funniest thing Rus had ever seen, and if he laughed out loud now, heâd never get to see the end of the show.
He managed to jerk his eye lights back to the tv and kept the glances to a minimum, the better to savor it, hell, yes. Sipped on the Edgelordâs annoyance like the fine vinegary wine that it was.
Halfway through the movie, Blue paused it and picked up the half-full popcorn bowl, holding it up to ask cheerily, âDoes anyone need a drink or refill?â
âIâll take a glass,â Edge announced. Instead of waiting for Blue to bring it, he stalked over, arms crossed over his chest as he stood waiting, glowered at absolutely nothing.
That got some looks. Edge never drank soda, he always stuck with water. Hell, heâd sneered about the soda before, what was that one, something about Rus drinking so much soda that if he dared eat a Mento, heâd probably explode.
âOh, uh, of course!â Blue recovered admirably. He poured out a cup and handed it up to Edge. Who took it with possibly the fakest looking fumble Rus ever saw, but there wasnât time to even wonder what the fuck because the soda was less in the glass and more dumped directly on his head.
Stunned, Rus looked up at Edge through the sticky liquid dripping into his sockets.
âOops,â he said, blandly. His eye lights were bright, a smirk curving up the side of his mouth. âMy mistake.â
âyouââ Rus bit off what he was going to say hard enough that his teeth clicked together painfully. Heâd fucking promised, and he was keeping his promise, no cheap pleather knockoff clone was going to stop him. He stood up, slowly, and for one long moment he faced Edge. Without his boots on, Edge was inches shorter than him, staring up defiantly, daring Rus to say something, anything. Then Rus turned away and stalked towards the kitchen.
âPapy,â Blue called anxiously as he went through the door. Rus ignored it and went right to the drawer with the towels, wiping off as much of the sticky wetness as he could, ugh.
The door swung open behind him and Rus turned enough to catch a glimpse of black and crimson, too tall to be Red.
Rus wasnât the fighter that Edge was, but he did have two things in his side. First, the element of surprise and second, he was pretty sure Edge wouldnât actually hurt him. Blue probably wouldnât be very happy about having to shake Rus out of the rugs.
That anger heâd kept banked all night under his sense of humor surged and Rus reached out and took hold of Edgeâs soul with his magic, turned it blue with a cheery ting and shoving him back against the cupboards. Edge didnât even struggle or try to fight back and somehow that was even more irritating, what the fuck was wrong with this guy?
Seemed like there was only one person to ask. Rus stalked over to Edge and stood in front of him, his soda-soaked sweatshirt clinging uncomfortably as he snarled out, âwhat the fuck is wrong with you?â
Edge had no right to look as furious as he did. âMe?â he spat, âWhat the fuck are you trying to pull?â
âiâm trying to end all this bullshit!â Rus snapped. His anger wasnât sustainable, hell, Rus never liked being angry, and it drained away, leaving behind exhaustion. No one else ever got treated to the weekly roast, why the hell was Edge so damned focused on him. He didnât know and couldnât even care, let his magic recede so that Edge came down in a controlled slide, his feet back on the floor.
Only, Rus didnât expect the way Edgeâs expression changed along with it, from cold fury toâŚtoâŚit almost looked like yearning, what the fuck--
âFinally,â Edge breathed, and Rus only stared dumbly as Edge stepped in close and kissed him.
Rusâd been kissed plenty of times before by other, fleshier Monsters and wasnât that always a learning curve. Somehow this was even worse, mostly because he was cycling through various levels of shock, hands flailing as if he were trying to fly away from this whole awful night.
A skeletal mouth was something different, hard, sharp teeth pressed almost painfully to his own. Rus was pretty sure he only opened his mouth to ask Edge what the fuck he was doing, but the moment his teeth parted, he had an extra tongue inside, long and clever, curling around his own, and for one brief, baffling moment Rus found himself leaning into it. The mouth against his own knew what it was doing, tongue dipping inside, teeth nibbling teasingly, riding the tantalizing line of pain and pleasure.
It was the slightest prickle of those sharp teeth that reminded him of who exactly he was kissing, and Rus jerked away, stumbling back and covering his mouth with a humiliatingly shaky hand. âwhat theâŚwhy would youâŚwhat the fuck?!â
Looking to Edge for answers only got Rus more questions. He looked bewildered more than anything, maybe even a little hurt. He reached out, his hands settling on Rusâs shoulders. âBut, you saidâ"
âlet go!â Rus tried to lurch away from those grasping hands.
Edge did immediately and Rus scrambled away from him, not looking back as he fled out the kitchen door. The others were still on the sofas, but Red was sitting next to Blue now, of course he fucking was, probably kept his bro out here to let Edge chase after him for whatever the fuck that was.
His shoes were laying jumbled together by the front door and Rus stuffed his feet into them, ignoring the way his boney feet protested the rough treatment.
âWhere are you going?â Blue called, distressed.
âsomeplace to get my dick sucked,â Rus snarled, ignoring the way his bro sputtered at his crudeness. He slammed the door shut behind him hard enough to shake clumps of snow loose from the gutters, the Gyftmas lights swaying as Rus started off towards Muffetâs, already reaching for a cigarette.
~~*~~
Hours later, Rus was still sitting at the bar, alone. Aside from a scattering of greetings when heâd come inside, everyone took one good look at him and let him be. The place was mostly empty by now, only a few regulars clinging on, most of them sitting alone, too, or may as well be, cause this wasnât the hour for laughter and chatting. This was the time for drinking, and everyone here was getting to the task, tout suite.
Muffet was behind the bar, endlessly wiping the glasses. Aside from refilling his glass, sheâd left him alone and that suited Rusâs mood just fine. He was engaging in a particularly useful coping mechanism known as âtrying not to think about itâ and after three honey whiskeys, he was doing a pretty good job.
Behind him, Rus heard the door open, didnât think much of it. Until the footsteps headed his way and the stool next to him got a new occupant. Red didnât look at him, only gestured to Muffet and soon he had a drink of his own, something vile and sour, Rus would sure, to match his shitty personality.
Red looked down at his drink, tipping the glass this way and that in his hands. âi dunno what the fuck youâre trying to pull,â Red said, coolly, âbut flaunting it when youâre fucking other people is over the line.â
âwho i fuck is none of your business.â Rus drained his glass and held it out silently for Muffet to refill. He hadnât actually intended to find someone to spend the night with, but the idea was getting more tempting by the second with someone trying to stuff up his ass what he should or shouldnât do.
The entire bar winced as sharp fingertips scraped across glass, dark liquid slopping out over Redâs hand as his grip tightened. Red finally looked at him and his eye lights were burning like coals in his sockets. âit is when youâve been leading my brother on for months!â
Rus choked on the mouthful of whiskey heâd taken, coughing it back out. âwhoa, back that shit up, what?â
The heat of that glare didnât drop a single digit, Red glowering as he snarled, âiâve been keeping back. if you two want to play the long game, itâs no skin off my bones, but youâre playing a little too rough!â
Okay, maybe heâd had enough to drink for now. Rus set the glass carefully on the bar top and glanced at Muffet. Who was only polishing a glass and giving a great impression of someone who wasnât hanging on to their every word. A quick glance around the rest of the bar got him a lot of matching nonchalant expressions and wasnât that wonderful. Rus always loved being the best gossip on any given night. âred, i have no idea what the fuck youâre talking about.â
That fiery anger dimmed, morphing into the same bewilderment heâd seen in Edge. âbutâŚcome on, youâve been insulting him for months.â
âSo?â Rus said, defensively. âheâs been insulting me!â
âyeah, exactly!â When Rus only stared at him in confusion, Red looked even more agitated, shoving his drink away. âyouâve been getting in each otherâs faces, arguing andâŚâ He slowed and trailed off, leaning to peer disturbingly close into Rusâs face, his sockets narrowed. âyou really got no idea what iâm talking about, do you.â
âno fucking clue,â His whiskey-clouded thoughts were slow to catch up, but when they did, it was like a slap across the face, sharp and stunning. âyou think Iâve been flirting with him??â
Red threw up his hands, âyeah!â
Rus could only shake his head, torn between being amused and appalled. Amusement was currently in the lead, of course Underfell would do things with a weird, assholish tilt. âred, we donât flirt like that here. ask anyone.â
Red turned to look around the bar where everyone immediately found something better to look at. But every one of them was sitting peacefully, sipping a drink and munching on pretzels.
It made Rus remember the time Red dragged him to Grillbyâs in Underfell, where a fight seemed to start every two minutes, attacks constantly flying and Rus was so nervous, he barely finished a single drink. Red seemed unperturbed the whole time, slugging the shots back, business as usual for him. The next time he invited Rus out, Rus decided he had about a hundred other ways heâd rather die than sipping cheap booze in the murder cafĂŠ.
Red was starting to get the picture, too, in high-definition. He looked honestly upset which was probably the most real emotion heâd ever seen in Red, his sharp phalanges clattering against his skull as he scraped a hand over it, muttering out, âah, fuck.â
âthat pretty much sums it up,â Rus agreed. He took another swig of his drink, may as well not waste it, chuckling to himself, âfuck. you both thought i was flirtingâŚand he was flirtingâŚback.â
Oh.
ThatâŚwas actually not funny. At all. If Edge thought he was flirting by insulting him and heâd been giving it right back hard, going all out until Rus had been in a goddamn rage andâ
It turned everything he knew about Edge on its head, meant he hadnât been an asshole, the exact opposite, actually, heâŚheâd beenâŚ
Yeah. Fuck seemed like a pretty good summation.
Processing all that through his whisky-soaked head wasnât going so well. Rus sank down, resting his head on his folded arms and staring blurrily at the bottles lining the shelves behind the bar.
Next to him, Red shifted uncomfortably, slowly turning the glass in his hands. âlook, iâll talk to my bro about this,â Red said haltingly.
Rus nodded distractedly. âyeah, okay. thatâŚthatâd be good.â Suddenly the bar seemed too hot, claustrophobically so. âi need to go.â He dug a G out of his pocket and left in on the counter, ignoring the way the other patrons gasped in shock. To hell with them, he wasnât about to let Red start using his tab.
He stumbled out the door, the cold stinging against his hot cheek bones. Wandered in the direction of their house and kept going, until snow faded to slush and dripping water. He was in Waterfall in the middle of the night, echo flowers everywhere ready to repeat his woes to the next person passing through.
Yeah, how about no.
Rus sidestepped into a shortcut and his head might not be on straight, but he could find that secret bench blindfolded and backwards. One of the quietest places Underground, only the soothing rush of water around him. Nice and quiet, too quiet, nothing to distract him from the tangle of his thoughts and Rus flopped down on the bench while his mind started picking at it.
Edge had given back every insult Rus had ever given him, in spades. Which run through an Underfell filter made it sound like Edge had been an adoring suitor, gah, Rus wasnât even sure there was a name for what knowing that made him feel. A wild blender-drink of emotion turned into a smoothie of confusion.
But that was almost business as usual. Heâd always been confused and maybe a little hurt by Edgeâs attitude. Why was he so friendly with his brother and so cold to him? Sometimes after movie nights heâd be lying awake in bed, wondering what the fuck heâd done to make Edge hate him so much.
Only to find out now that Edge didnât hate him. At all. Maybe even the opposite of that.
All that whiskey was settling into his magic sourly and Rus rolled to lay on his side, breathing through a wave of nausea. His thoughts seemed trapped in a circular haze, repeating over and over, worse than the most persistent echo flower, and finally, he fell asleep staring at the lapping water.
When he woke, the amount of artificial light trying to pry its way into his closed sockets told him it was morning. Rus groaned and slung an arm over his sockets, but before he could drift back off came a prickling sense of awareness.
Someone was close by.
Cautiously, Rus lifted his arm and squinted out into the day to see Edge standing in front of him. At least he thought it was Edge, Rus wasnât sure heâd ever seen Edge in jeans and a plain t-shirt, and his boots were simple with a low heel. None of the elaborate wardrobe he usually showed up in. With a sickening jolt, Rus realized that every time Edge came over, heâd been dressing up to see him. How did that make his typical hoodie and track pants seem, was the insult of not dressing up part of the flirting? Who the fuck knew.
The clothes werenât the only thing different about him. Gone was the arrogant Captain who marched into their house on movie nights. This skeletonâs hands were tucked into his pockets, his expression bleak, like there was a deciding battle lost and now he was trying to deal with the aftermath.
âhnng,â Rus managed, groaning as he sat up. He cleared his throat, trying to work a little moisture into his mouth as he mumbled, âum. hey.â
Edge looked past Rus at the stony wall behind him with determined focus and said stiffly, âIâve been made aware that there has been a misunderstanding.â
âyeah, a little.â Only a fucking lot.
He nodded tiredly, âMy apologies. I wonât trouble you any longer.â Edge started to turn away and that was abruptly the last thing Rus wanted.
âwait!â Rus blurted. He reached out weakly and wasnât even sure why, but somehow seeing Edge, arrogant, asshole Edge, looking so downcast, so damned broken, itâŚit hurt, worse than the hangover throbbing in his skull.
He remembered Edge coming over a few weeks ago to work on cooking with his bro. So patient and understanding with Blue, who could be a little overzealous at times, okay, maybe even a lot and Edge was never anything but kind to him, as kind as heâd been vicious with Rus and if he could swap that around, change it, flip it on its head and why not, they were in Underswap.
Edge hesitated, some unnamed emotion flickering across his face, and Rus added, coaxingly, âplease? sit down, okay? can we talk while weâre both on the same page?â
He looked like he was considering making a break for Underfell, even glanced in the direction of the path. But finally, he sighed heavily and sat on the opposite side of the bench, spine held so rigidly he looked like he might shatter with a single touch.
They sat there with the sound of falling water around them, Rus struggling with what to say, fuck, he didnât even know how he felt. His head ached and Edge looked so damned sad, and heâd seen those smiles of his before, usually directed at Blue or Papyrus, but still, he knew they were in there somewhere.
MaybeâŚmaybe Rus could find one?
âlook,â Rus ran a hand over his skull, fingers clattering against the smooth bone. âum, weâve been flirting your way for months. maybe we can try my way for a change.â
Edge jerked, his head turning Rusâs way and his sockets wide. Guess that wasnât what he was expecting to hear. Haltingly, he said, âIâm not sure how butâŚI am willing to try.â
He sounded so damned hopeful. Rusâs soul twisted in his ribcage. He took a deep breath and reached over to take Edgeâs hand in his, twining their fingers together. Edgeâs phalanges were soothingly warm, slim and scarred.
âletâs start with this,â Rus said softly. The fingers around his own tightened cautiously, a thumb tracing down into Rusâs palm, making him shiver.
âThis is nice,â Edge admitted. And there, there it was. He smiled, little more than a faint curve upward at the corners of his mouth that sent an unexpected flutter through Rusâs soul.
âyeah, it is,â Rus hesitated. Welp, in for a G, in for a bundle, âcan iâŚ?â
âYes,â Edge said immediately. Probably didnât even know what he was agreeing to and Rus smiled a little himself, helplessly.
Theyâd already had a first kiss, couldnât get that back. Rus was hoping a second would be just as memorable, for a different reason.
He leaned in, carefully brushing his mouth over Edgeâs. The teeth beneath his own parted in invitation and Rus took it, tongues gliding lightly together as Edge moaned shakily, his free hand coming up to clutch at the back of Rusâs neck, and yeah, okay. He could work with this.
One kiss became two, three, each one a little more desperate than the last and holy shit, heâd been cockteasing for months and hadnât even known it. Or maybe some part of him had known, and Rus hated it for not cluing him in sooner because he wanted more of this, wanted to sink into Edgeâs kisses, lose himself in this desperate eagerness, the urgent little noises that Edge was starting to utter.
Only, that would probably be a bad idea right out of the gate and Rus regretfully pulled away, shelved the temptation.
And almost snatched it right back up because Edge was unfairly enticing, teeth parted as he panted and a bright flush of crimson tinting his cheek bones.
Rus licked his teeth, watched as Edgeâs eye lights followed that little movement. âi think, um. maybe we could go on a date. together.â
âIf you can drag your lazy ass out of bed.â Slipped out, and Rus saw Edge wince, fumbling for a way to take it back. But hey, this was a language Rus thought he could learn. Maybe if they kept this up, they could both learn a thing or three.
âi can get moving when iâm properly motivated,â Rus smirked. âreal question is can you get the stick out of your ass long enough to enjoy it.â Edgeâs eye lights flared, nearly filling his sockets and by the Unnamed Angel, Rus mustâve been blind not to see that for what it was. Excitement, delight, eagerness, and shit, good or bad, this was going to be something, wasnât it.
âEnjoy it,â Came from the solo echo flower sitting nearby, its ghostly voice encouraging.
Yeah, okay, Rus decided, cupping Edgeâs face in his hands as he leaned in for another kiss. That seemed like a good enough place to start.
-fin-
#spicyhoney#papcest#keelywolfe#underfell#underswap#underfell papyrus#underswap papyrus#Underfell Sans#underswap sans#standalone
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Revival of Midoriya Izuku chapter 3
Itâs been 84 years huh? As always the fanfic is up on ao3:Â https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929483/chapters/52652386
also im aware of like some formatting issues with the fic when it comes to tumblr, so reading it on ao3 might be better if you particularly care about like italics and what not, but otherwise itâs all the same stuff.
âMove your ass Boom Boom Bitch, I wanna get there early!â shouted Izuku, as him and Bandit sat on rather stylish, but uncomfortable couch in the Bakugousâ living room that was probably worth more than both of them put together, which probably wasnât even that much anyway since theyâre both garbage, but itâs about the principle of the thing.
âShut your mouth you Trash Twink, Iâll get there when I get there! And what the fuck are you doing in my house?â screamed Bakugou all the way from upstairs, although with his voice being as explosive as his quirk he might as well be standing right next to you considering the damage he does to everyoneâs eardrums.
Speaking of hearing damage âKatsuki!!! Is that how you talk to our guest you rude brat?! Get over here!â exclaimed Aunt Mitsuki.
âShut it old hag! Dekuâs not a guest, heâs just an annoying cockroach that invites himself wherever he wants and does whatever he wants!â which is a fair point, considering Izuku has invited himself to Bakugouâs first day at UA for less than wholesome reasons. Some people might see it as the ultimate bitch slap to Bakugouâs ego (partially true), but for the most part itâs merely a testament of how far Izuku has come, considering he now only sees UA as a place where he can flirt with Tenseiâs hot brother, rather than a means of accomplishing some bullshit dreams... But itâs not like Kacchan knows any of this, so he can fuck off.
If you were to ask Izuku what his deal with Bakugou was, he would reply âBest friends, duhâ with enough sarcasm to last you the next ten years. If you were to press for any specifics his reply would be more along the lines of âI dunno, get the fuck out of my apartmentâ followed by having Trash Bandit sent after you. The bottom line was, his relationship with Bakugou was complicated, as were most thing in Izukuâs life, but thatâs not unusual.
Izukuâs presence at the Bakugou household though? Thatâs quite unusual, yet more likely than youâd think.
And although the screaming match between the two Bakugous was ever so entertaining Izuku had places to be, and guys to seduce, so âLeave it Auntieâ he exclaims in a dismissive manner âWe donât want to rile him up too much, otherwise he ainât gonna get that 30-day chip from the anger management that heâs been gunninâ forâ he adds half-jokingly.
âI know, I knowâ she says âBut youâd think he would act a little nicer by now, after all these months of therapy.â
âWouldnât expect miracles if I were you Auntie, you know what the say; Apple doesnât fall far from the tree â replies the boy with a shiteating grin as he motions towards Bakugou descending down the stairs, not missing the way Mitsuki flinched ever so slightly at his rather obnoxious comment.
âAnd to think you used to be such a nice boy yourself, I used to always tell your mother how great it wouldâve been if Katsuki was more like youâ she says in a mix of bittersweet nostalgia and regret.
âYeah well, considering the shit I got for being nice , I think from now on Iâd rather be a bastard and then someâ exclaimed Izuku as he got up from the couch with Bandit in tow and made his way towards Bakugou. The other boy was getting ready to leave as well and his excitement for the day was concealed even more poorly than his motherâs discomfort at the current conversation âHave a good one Auntie!â
And with that, the two teenagers and one (1) sheep were on their way.
âKacchan please , not everything is about youâ said Izuku exasperatedly, hurrying over to the only empty seat on the train.
âLike hell it isnât! This was supposed to be MY DAY, my first day at the school of my fucking dreams, and youâre trying to ruin it by following me around dressed like a dollar stripper!â replied Bakugou in a whisper-scream. He may have anger issues but he wasnât a dumbass and the two of them were already drawing enough attention as it was. It wasnât exactly easy to remain unnoticed on a train while carrying a green sheep; a task which fell on Bakugou, because Izuku was a weak-noodle-arm-bitch.
âFirst of all, Iâm flattered that you think Iâm worth a dollarâ said the weak-noodle-arm-bitch in question âAnd second of all, this is my best outfit.â Said best outfit consisted of a worn out tank top that had THE HOES written on it in what once was a glittery pink; a pair of booty shorts with ENEMY OF STATE hand stitched onto the backside and rainbow patterned knee socks. The look was completed with a pair of pink platform crocs, because Izuku had standards ... and because he was short.
âGod I hate youâ murmured Bakugou.
âDonât I know it Kacchan?â
The rest of the train ride was spent in silence.
It wasnât until they actually reached the gates of the school that Bakugou had a thought; one that he probably shouldâve had before they even left his house, but having a coherent thought while carrying a sheep and bickering with the sheepâs owner about whether the sheep should be referred to as a dog or not is in all fairness not possible.
âThey wonât let you inâ he said, voicing the sudden epiphany.
âSure they willâ replied Izuku.
âOh yeah? How? Deku, you donât fuckinâ go to this school, you donât go to ANY school!â shouted Bakugou, because they were no longer on the train, therefore arguing with a lunatic stripper looking guy was now acceptable.
Izuku for the most part did not have a problem with that, because not only did he love having petty fights with people, he also loved proving them wrong, especially when everyone and their grandma accuses him of being a high school drop out.
âShinjuku Metropolitan would beg to differâ he says, dropping the metaphorical bomb on the unsuspecting dipshit that is his childhood friend, after which he continues to walk, crossing the gates of UA High like he owns the damn place.
After about a minute of Bakugou standing frozen in shock, he finally snapped out of it when Bandit decided to start chewing on his uniform âOi, hold the fuck up!â screamed the blond as he followed Izuku inside, while the sheep was being dragged along like a betrayed ragdoll  âDid you just say Shinjuku Metropolitan?!â
âKacchan, you know I canât hold you, youâre too heavyâ replies the other teen, while pointedly ignoring Bakugouâs question and the looks heâs been getting from the students.
âDonât change the subject shitty Deku! How the fuck did your ass get into a top non-hero high school in the whole damn Tokyo you bitch?â
âWhat, like itâs hard?â
âI fuckinâ swear to God-â
âDo it! Pull the trigger piglet!â
âWHATâS GOING ON HERE?â
Their pointless quarrel, which was on a steady way into becoming a straight up brawl (Izuku having already pulled out his axe and lighted a cigarette using one of Bakugouâs warning explosions) came to a stop when they were interrupted by one of UAâs teachers, although in Izukuâs opinion she made a wrong career choice, considering being a Dominatrix probably paid more.
On another note, when someone asks you âwhatâs going on?â that doesnât mean theyâre actually interested in whatever is happening at the moment, it means âstopâ, therefore Izukuâs answer to that question, which usually involves something along the lines of âYou see, Iâm small, horny and full of rage, and I have no outlet for these emotionsâ is rarely appreciated. That is not to say that the lack of appreciation is going to stop him from spawning whatever dumb shit comes to his mind when faced with the judgement from authority figures. If anything it makes everything worse.
âThatâs just how we flirtâ replied the teen instead, all the while looking THE Pro-Hero Midnight dead in the eye and putting out his cigarette on Bakugouâs uniform jacket. Bakugou, for the most part was unable to even be mad at the cigarette burn considering he was busy recovering from being metaphorically punched in the kidneys by that line.
âAnd why arenât you wearing uniform?â she asks suspiciously, pointing at Izukuâs attire.
âOh, I donât go hereâ he replied casually.
âThen pray tell , why are you in this school?â
âTo get laidâ
âTO WHAT?!â screamed Bakugou in surprise.
At this point Midnight took out her phone (no, her costume doesnât have pockets, please donât ask where she keeps it) and clicked on one of three contacts she keeps on her speed dial.
âPrincipal Nedzu, we got a situationâŚâ
After telling Bakugou not to worry and that he will see him later in class, Izuku was dragged to the principalâs office by Midnight.
On the way there he tried cracking up another joke, telling her that his safe word was âavocadoâ. She did not appreciate that one either. For those of you wondering what happened to Bandit, the sheep ended up following Bakugou, much to the blondâs dismay.
Now, being sent to a principalâs office, especially of a school that you donât even attend is usually a sign that you have royally fucked up. Not for Izuku though, because he had a plan! Contrary to the common belief, Izuku is not dumb. The fall didnât kill off any of his brain cells, only his ability to give a shit, which made life much easier since he no longer had to worry about things like: peopleâs opinions, social norms, laws and heteronormativity.
Anyway, back to the plan. Izuku was not dumb, therefore even he knew that wandering around UA while not attending the school would not fly. He needed a way to stay, and for that he needed the guy who runs the whole shitshow; Nedzu.
Which is why the moment Midnight opens the door to the office Izuku stomps in like a man on a mission and stops right in front of an animal of questionable origin in a suit that is allegedly UAâs principal. A little unusual, but if a scumbag like Endeavour can hold the title of No. 2 Hero in Japan, then an animal can run a school.
The principal in question was calmly sitting on a couch and drinking tea, totally unconcerned with whatever bullshit Izuku was about to throw at him.
âNow, what seems to be the issue with this young man?â asked Nedzu.
âThis young man-â said Izuku, pointing to himself in a rather cocky manner âhas a message for you!â
âAnd what would that message be?â
The principalâs question was answered with what Izuku can only think of as the ultimate power move, or in this case; a literal ace up the sleeve. The boy proceeded to pull out a Monopoly âGet out of Jailâ card out of his shorts (since he technically wasnât wearing any sleeves) and slam it on the table right in front of Nedzu.
While to an outsider the current situation might seem absurd, it is important to remember that Izuku had a plan; one that couldâve never come to a fruition without a little help from the most unexpected person, which is why that card was no ordinary Monopoly card, but a very specific reminder that only Principal Nedzu would know the meaning of, and when he picked it up and flipped it around, the neatly written message on the back made its presence known.
It read: âYou owe me one. - Hisashiâ
âMy dad says âHi!â â exclaimed Izuku, taking one look at Nedzuâs face and knowing that he already won.
Was cashing in on a favour that his dad secured like 10 years ago a morally good decision? Debatable, but it got the job done so heâs not gonna complain. All that mattered was that Izuku now had a pass to enter the UA grounds whenever he pleased and nobody could stop him, and so here he was about to enter the classroom where Kacchan is supposed to be in. The bell hasnât rung yet so he still had some time and who knows, maybe the handsome guy from the police station was in the same class?
With that in mind he opened the gigantic door and made his way into the classroom and was met with what looked like a pissing contest between his crush and his childhood friend.
âREMOVE YOUR FOOT FROM THAT DESK! SUCH AN ACTION IS INSULTING TO THOSE WHO CAME TO UA BEFORE US AS WELL AS THE CRAFTSMEN WHO MADE THIS DESK!â
âLIKE I CARE! WHAT MIDDLE SCHOOL ARE YOU FROM, YOU EXTRA ?!â
Ah yes, pissing contest at its finest, which meant that Izuku had options . The most obvious course of action would be siding up with Tenya and taunting Kacchan, which is not something Izuku would ever say no to. However , it also happens that the object of his affections had a massive boner for rules and authority, which is the exact opposite of everything Izuku stands for, so siding up with Kacchan it is.
And so he made his way to the pair of bickering teenagers and promptly pushed Kacchanâs feet off the desk, earning a scoff from the blond and an approving but baffled look from Iida, which only lasted for about 2 seconds, because Izuku being the gay disaster that he is simply HAD to ruin it all by claiming the desk as his sitting spot and giving Tenya the most ridiculous bedroom eyes that had Kacchan fake gagging like his life depended on it.
âUmm...Izuku, was it?â asked Tenya, feeling awkward under the other boyâs intense gaze.
âIt sure wasâ replied the boy, feeling happy about leaving enough of an impression to be remembered from all those weeks ago âFancy seeing you here, huh?â
âIndeed-â
âOh for fuckâs sake Deku!â exclaimed Bakugou, completely fed up with the cringeworthy display in front of him âJust tell four-eyes that you came here because you wanted to see him and be done with it!â
âWHAT?â
âKacchan, not now! Iâm trying to put on some moves!â
âWell your moves are shit-â
âHey, arenât you that guy from the news who stabbed a villain in the eye with an axe?!â shouted one of the students while pointing at Izuku. There was something ironic about the fact that it was his stunt on live TV from 2 weeks ago that got everyoneâs heads turning and not his iconic outfit, or inappropriate behaviour, or literally anything else about him. Like thatâs just rude ok? And interrupting him while heâs trying to flirt? Also rude.
âBitch, I might beâ he replied anyway, because his reputation was on the line and because at this point literally everyone has gathered around the desk that he sat on, so things were way past the point of return. People were throwing questions and accusations at him left and right, Trash Bandit is nowhere to be found and his quil flask is not full enough for this bullshit. At this point Bakugou simply got up from his seat and sat at the back of the room, as far away from this nonsense as possible.
âItâs you!âexclaimed the boy with dual coloured hair and equally mismatched eyes âYouâre the guy who keeps T-posing in front of my house. Can you please stop?!â he asked with the most deadpan face Izuku has ever seen despite his voice being filled with desperation.
âLook, I T-pose in front of a lot of houses so youâre gonna have to be more specificâ he replied sarcastically â despite knowing exactly who he was talking to â since it probably wasnât a good moment to mention that youâre besties with that personâs mom because you were both stuck in the same loony bin and so you already know all the family drama and have dedicated a good portion of your time to harassing her abusive piece of shit husbandâŚespecially with like 20 people around you.
âYouâre the one who egged my limo!â shouted one of the girls at the back. She was a very tall girl with long, dark hair tied in a seemingly gravity defying ponytail and a kind face. She had an air of a distinguished lesbian about her, which Izuku could respect even if she was rich if the limo comment was anything to go by. He egged several limos in his lifetime because seeing rich people out in public makes him go apeshit, as it should, so really how is he supposed to remember everyone?
âAnd I will egg it again!â promised Izuku âWhen I see rich people out and about it triggers my fight-or-fuck responseâ
âDonât you mean fight-or-flight?â she asked.
âNoâ
âAre you ok?â
âNot in the slightestâ
And with that more people joined in on the conversation, including a particular girl who very much looked like an alien with her bright pink skin and black sclera who ended up complementing his outfit, which thank fuck someone here actually had good taste , as well as a guy who ended up being Ms Shoujiâs son, and the only reason he found out was because the guy recognised his antics based on the gossip his mom told him and isnât that a small fuckin world? And in the middle of it all laid an inconspicuous yellow sleeping bag that has been conveniently ignored by everyone for the sake of the plot up until now.
The sleeping bag began to seemingly unzip by itself and soon enough Banditâs head poked out of it.
âBandit! There you areâ
âBaaah!â
âGuys! Look at this dog!â exclaimed one of the students who Izuku thought looked like a personification of weed, but he wasnât going to say that. At least the guy knew what he was talking about.
âIâm pretty certain itâs a sheep-â added Tenya, taking his role as the last standing voice of reason in this room very seriously, even though his voice has practically drowned in the sea of teenagers chanting âgood doggoâ, similarly to how one might feel if they were standing at a dance floor while Baby Got Back started playing.
Itâs also important to note that while all of this was happening, Bakugou who has sat himself at the back of the room was forced to witness the chaotic force that is Izuku interacting with multiple people at once while being able to convince about 20 of them to refer to his sheep as a dog, and in that moment he turned around staring into the void and asked himself âAm I having a fuckin stroke?â
âNah, heâs always like thatâ replied the one person who was sat at the back along with him that Bakugou previously did not bother to notice.
âAnd how would you know, you damn extra?â asked Bakugou somewhat offended, because sure him and Izuku were not on the friendliest terms and the whole incident from last year really changed him and what not. But they still knew each other their whole lives, so really that had to count for something and Bakugou was not willing to compromise on that with some random extra who looked like a Tinky Winky humansona on drugs.
Unfortunately Bakugou was not able to get an answer because the entire class was interrupted by a homeless looking guy coming out of the yellow sleeping bag to shame student kind. âIf youâre here to socialise, then get outâ he said. Soon enough the room was filled with a tense silence as the students were unsure of what to expect next.
âIt took 8 seconds for you to quiet down. Time is a precious resource. You lot arenât very rational, are you?â asked the man as he walked to the front of the classroom, making it very clear that he was in fact their teacher. The man was rather tall and unkept, his hair was long and slightly curled, similar to Izukuâs own and the outfit he wore could only be described as a goth onesie. There was something very familiar about him but Izuku couldnât quite make out what it was supposed to be.
However, just because Izukuâs memory aligns very closely with a slice of swiss cheese doesnât mean that the same can be said about the teacher in question. As soon as he turned around to get a good look at his new class his eyes fell on Izuku and his face has swiftly shifted from that of practiced disinterest to shock and recognition that Izuku honestly was not expecting.
âWhat are you doing here problem child?â asked the man with a certain degree of disbelief in his voice. Once again there was something very familiar about him and the way he addressed Izuku and wait a minute did he just call me a problem child? That canât be-
âUncle Shoutaâ exclaimed the boy in a way that felt uncertain, yet childishly hopeful âIs that you?â
âOf course it is brat, who else would I be?â he replied with a hint of amusement.
#revival of midoriya izuku#demise!au#bnha#fanfic#midoriya izuku#bakugou katsuki#trash bandit#aizawa shouta#iida tenya
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Square-Enix announces FFVIII remaster. I wish I could be excited about it.
Me desperately trying to convince myself that I'm happy we got some acknowledgement of the 20th anniversary.
So Square-Enix just announced that Final Fantasy VIII is getting a remaster and first things first, in case you havenât seen it yet, here it is:
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Many of us FF8 fans are of course very excited about this announcement and even though I made sure not to set my expectations too high when I first heard the rumours, I too was happy to learn that Square-Enix was acknowledging the 20th anniversary of our favourite game, and that it was finally getting some recognition outside of crossovers and the occasional cameo or reference.
But then, I watched the trailer again and as the euphoria of the original announcement faded, I started noticing some things I was less than impressed by, and within an hour, I came to the realization that... I just plain donât like the direction where this thing is going.
Letâs look at the characters one by one and letâs immediately address the elephant in the room:
Squallâs stupid Dissidia face. This was an immediate disappointment. At least they stuck to his original outfit, I suppose, but man, I cannot comprehend this decision. Why? Why canât they leave the original design alone? Everyone loves that design, even the people who hate Squall. And why mess with the characterâs design in a product thatâs made solely as fanservice for long time fans?! Why must Dissidia replace every. Goddamn. Thing whether the fans like it or not?!
Thatâs actually a joke I made to myself. âMan, can you imagine if at E3 they announced that theyâd just replace Squallâs model with the Dissidia one! HA HA HA!â and I actually didnât even bring it up in the Discord because I didnât want to be obnoxious with yet more bashing of Squallâs Dissidia redesign. And yet, here we are, they actually fucking did it. They actually just took the original FF8 and fucked it up by putting Dissidia Squall in it. Guess I am justified in my bashing (and I do like the Dissidia games a lot, make no mistake, I just canât stand that stupid and pointless redesign of Squall).
And itâs not just that itâs different, and itâs not just because itâs blatantly a recycled asset thatâs been retooled slightly, it really does look terrible to me. I really donât like his overly thin face, his overly soft features, and the fact that he generally looks like heâs 14. Yes, I know heâs a teenager, but heâ still not THIS young, and his original design really gave you the impression that it was someone who trained to be a professional fighter, as opposed to a shoujo manga character.
The hair also looks off. It looks less like hair and more like a plastic helmet or something.
And I know people made jokes about how spiky it was in the original game due to the technical limitations of the time, but it still looked good in my opinion, and it was designed in such a way that it actually looked like his biggest bangs rested naturally on his ears. Here his hair just makes weird solid spikes because... I donât know, heâs related to Phoenix Wright, now? I used to joke that Squall must be the type of guy who spends hours making it look like he spends no time on his looks, but here it really looks like the dude is just slathering his hair in gel to create these spikes and make them fashionable.
And speaking of the bangs, I have no idea why they thought making the ones on the sides of his head all curvy was a good idea. To me, it just looks like armpit hair, or really unkempt sideburns. Iâm just amazed by how not a single strand of hair on that model wants to obey the laws of physics.
These changes are especially jarring to me considering they apparently havenât touched the CGI cutscenes, making it blatant that itâs not what heâs supposed to look like. So at least itâs creating inconsistencies that didnât exist in the original game, so thatâs a bonus.
Also, looking at the folds on his jacket, they... really donât look good. Looking back at the original model, they really knew how to work with the limitations of the time, so the folds are more understated, yet at the same time, there was more of a contrast with the rest of the jacket, making it again look more real in spite of the lower resolution.
Oh and it looks like they gave him skinny legs like in Dissidia because Heaven forbid that a professional mercenary looks like received para-military training.
Next on the list is Quistis and she does look a lot better than Squall. I especially like how serious she looks. All business all the time. But again, the hair is where it falters. It looks weirdly... poofy, for lack of a better word, compared to her original self and much like Squallâs jacket, the texture of it feels far less sharp than originally, especially when you look at where the bangs meet the pulled back part of her hair. It really feels like there should be a bigger contrast in the shading to highlight the shape of it and give it more volume.
Again, compare with the original, which had a much sharper contrast between the shadows and the highlights, and so made it look a lot more voluminous and lively. Also notice that there was more shading on the original model, giving it a more defined shape. And much like with Squall, the hair gives me that weird impression of just being clipped on and not actually connected to the head, which wasnât a problem with the older models. This will continue to be a trend, but more on that later.
The same goes for the clothes. Again, in spite of being lower resolution, you can see folds and you can easily imagine the texture of it, but in this trailer, everything is completely smooth and flat. It really takes away from the personality this outfit shows.
Then, thereâs Linoa, and she too Iâm pretty sure is based off her Dissidia design, though thereâs a bigger chance they actually made a new model seeing how Dissidia NT models have a much higher polycount than the PSP games. Now, I actually liked her Dissidia redesign. It wasnât quite the same as in the original game, but I liked how they made her look more mature and even a bit curvier, which makes sense since itâs set after the events of each characterâs game.
So even though the rounder face seems a bit odd in the original game, I can could have been happy with it and besides, there seemed to be quite a few differences between her CGI model and her battle model in FF8 anyway, so Iâm not gonna complain about it looking a bit different. But then, once again, thereâs the hair...
So... what happened to her caramel strands? You know, the signature part of her looks? If you look veeeeery closely during the video, thereâs what might be a couple very faded strands, but the fact that Iâm not sure should tell you everything you need to know, as theyâre pretty much gone. And overall, the modeling just isnât very good and much like with Squall, her bangs just look weird, overly stiff and spiky. Unlike with the original model, it feels like it was cut out that way like cardboard or something rather than naturally following the shape of her head.
One positive Iâll give it is that we can clearly see the two rings on her necklace, and Iâll give them bonus points if thereâs only one before Squall hands her his ring.
On to Selphie.
...
She actually looks fine and is definitely the one who comes out the best from this whole thing. No complaints there, even though we donât get to see much of her. Even her wristband/bracelet thing is more detailed, which will come in very handy for fan art.
Next is Zell. Now, Iâve seen people mention/complain that they gave him a babyface, but I actually donât mind that. Zellâs whole deal is that heâs trying to act tough and dangerous even though heâs clearly a loving mamaâs boy, so it fits in that heâd look more youthful and innocent. Hell, one could even argue it explains why he wanted to get a face tattoo. No, I have far more of an issue with everyone else having baby faces as well.
And last but not least, we have Irvine. Now face-ise, I donât have much of a problem with it, looks pretty good. The bangs are a little weird and again give me that cardboard/wood cutout feel, but still, doesnât look bad.
What does look bad is Irvineâs shotgun:
The barrels look weird, right? Well thatâs because as you may have noticed, the texture for the holes isnât aligned with the 3D model. Thatâs also why you can see a bit of wood texture on one of the cannons. And you canât see it very well on this screenshot, but the chamber also has mismatching textures.
Thatâs right, in the trailer announcing a remaster that's supposed to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the game, a product whose only purpose is to make the game look better, they felt comfortable showing us graphical issues that werenât present in the original game.
Now sure, this will probably be fixed by the time the remaster gets released (at least I hope it will) but I cannot stress this enough, the one thing this remaster is supposed to do is make the game look better and the big announcement trailer cannot even promise us decent texturing.
It also says a lot about the different treatment of fandoms that on the same day, FF7 fans get more insight on an awesome remake of a game thatâs already been ported to pretty much every current system in existence, has had multiple sequels, spin-offs and adaptations and constantly gets referenced in other games, with all the love and care that one should expect from a major AAA project but for FF8 fans, proper texture mapping is too much to ask.
It just boggles my mind that a major publisher would create a trailer blatantly showing broken graphics, but to do so for a remaster is just incomprehensible to me.
And speaking of the textures, this leads me to my main issue with these models, which is that they just plain donât look good. Final Fantasy VIII had a really strong visual identity and compared to the rest of the games, it looked extremely realistic, to the point that even the more recent games that do go for a more realistic feel, like XIII or XV, still have a more overtly fantasy feel. And FFVIII pulled off that realistic style amazingly well. Even though it was made using technology that wasnât anywhere near as advanced as what we have to day, they still felt like flesh and bone people, and that made them that much more relatable.
But here, that strong identity has been completely neutered. Everything looks way too soft and clean. The textures have no definition to them and are overly smooth; they look airbrushed. And look, Iâm not gonna pretend that the characters in the original looked gritty or anything, they were still pretty boys and girls, but they were believable pretty boys and girls. There was still something about them that made it feels like they could be people youâd meet in the streets. Here, their uncannily smooth and featureless skin looks like plastic. They look like action figures.
These models not only look bland and boring IMO, but they just do not fit with the style of FF8, which is going to be especially jarring considering they apparently donât intend to upgrade the backgrounds. Hell, these models donât even fit with one-another, as Squall and Linoa really donât look like they belong with the rest of the team, IMO.
To really ram home how badly this remaster fails to understand FFVIIIâs aesthetic, just look at this comparison, which just made me go âUrgh!â when I saw it. Just look Squall and Quistis donât fit in with this environment. See how especially out of place Squall looks. Behold how stiff and awkward his hair is. Marvel at his collar made of crumbled up tissue paper! Admire how his once intense expression now looks bland and boring! Behold how what few folds left on Quistisâ overly smooth outfits no longer follow the shape of her body! Gaze in wonder at how lifeless these soulless mannequins look.
Itâs just so sad and what makes it worse is that just a few months ago, we had the FF8 Mobius event which gave us an HD version of Squall and Ultimecia and that looked amazing! Now obviously a full game with that look wasnât gonna happen, but I really would have hoped that theyâd at least use it as a guideline for the direction to take the art in. Instead, all we get for the 20th anniversary is a remaster that canât even promise to look as good as the original.
Itâs just so sad, and some people are already defending it by saying that we should be happy we got anything at all, or that we shouldnât be âungratefulâ about it. No! We shouldnât be content with mediocrity just because itâs better than nothing, especially when Iâm not convinced it is. Itâs a terribly apathetic to have, and Iâm pretty sure itâs the exact sort of attitude AAA companies want to cultivate: be happy with what you get because you ainât getting anything else.
As for being ungrateful, thatâs just laughable. Theyâre not giving us a present, people, itâs a re-release of a 20 year-old game and as far as I can tell, all theyâre doing is change the 3D models, and weâre still gonna have to pay for it. Itâs a glorified mod and yet it barely competes with fan-made ones.
Add to this how quickly slapped together the trailer blatantly was, using what is hopefully an early build of the remaster and being half made of CGI footage despite the fact that they donât appear to have done anything new to it, and it really doesnât give me the vibe of something made with love.
Honestly, I used to think I was gonna buy it either way, partly because I still wanted to see how it was, partly because I wanted to support Square-Enix but honestly, seeing how this is shaping up, I donât want to support this any more. I already bought the game on PS1 and PC, why should I buy it a third time in a worse-looking version?
Look, I really wanted to get excited for this. I really wanted to celebrate some new official FF8 content with everyone, but I can only judge it from what Iâm seeing, and what Iâm seeing is an unfitting art direction, recycled assets and mismatched textures. I just cannot bring myself to cheer on something that really doesnât seem
So unless they really show us stuff that blows me away before release, I think Iâll stick with the PC version (or maybe the PS1 version on emulators if Iâm feeling REALLY nostalgic), even if there is no good reason why it should still be doing such a better job of improving the gameâs graphics than an official remaster. Oh and by the way, let us not forget that this is something that console players donât get the luxury to do since FF8 was infamously not ported to modern consoles, unlike all the other ones. So if you play on consoles and want to play the original without the remastered graphics, fuck you, I guess.
Yep, still the best looking guy here.
#Final fantasy#Final Fantasy VIII#Final Fantasy 8#FF8#FFVIII#remaster#E3#Square-enix#trailer#redesign#disappointment#underwhelmed#rant#dĂŠception#PC#PS4#Xbox#Switch
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Black Eyes Surprise
Author: @anxstiel
Prompt: She pulled the knife from her chest and smiled.
       âWas that supposed to hurt?â
Pairings: Dean Winchester X Demon!Reader
Words: 2K
Warnings: A bit of making out, Dean blushing, Humorous towards the end, Crowley and Dean Bromance
Summary: Youâve been Crowleyâs right hand in Hell for a very long time and you both consider each other as not-exactly-friends-but-more-than-just-colleagues. Youâve been a bit out of the loop from everything happening on earth though so you have never had the pleasure of knowing about the Winchesters. Now, Crowley is letting you back onto earth and he has a job for you.
The music coming from the bar in front of you was so loud you could hear it from a mile away. Lights were flashing and making everyone within the city know that there was some serious partying going down in the building. You grimaced at the sight, not a fan of loud music or large crowds.
You hear a man walking up from behind you and you roll your eyes. âYou didnât have to come and check on me, Crowley,â you turned and glared at the King of Hell. âIâll get the job done. This isnât my first time.â
The demon sighed. âYes, well,â he made his way to stand beside you, causing you to turn back around as you both stared at the bar. âThis job is a bit different, Darling.â
This caused you to huff in annoyance. âSo? What do you want me to do then?â
A smirk slowly crept its way onto Crowleyâs face. âThe target is my best friend and I ââ
You snorted, causing him to glare at you due to your interruption. âIâm sorry, but,â you let out another bark of laughter. âFriend? Since when did the King of Hell have friends? Does he even know you consider him your friend?â You put your hands on your hips and raise an eyebrow at him. âIs this a one-sided relationship?â
âOh, knock it off Y/N!â Crowley snapped causing you to give off a slight chuckle. You always loved messing with him. âMy friend is currently ⌠â he paused, looking for the right words. âUpset with me. He wonât talk to me or even listen to my voicemails. He doesnât even reply to the emoticons I send him!â He sighed, trying to calm down from his built up frustration. âI just need you to go in there and talk him up, Y/N. Donât let him know that youâre a demon or that you work for me. Wait until youâre both outside.â
âEasy enough,â you replied in a boring tone, shrugging. âI mean, if heâs a friend of yours there must be something wrong with him. What is he? A monster? Stupid? Ugly?â
Crowley gave a thoughtful look as if he was considering your questions. âStupid, a bit. Not exactly a monster, though. Heâs completely human, at least.â He turned and gave you a smile. âDefinitely not ugly. Heâs possibly one of the most handsome men Iâve ever had the pleasure of knowing.â
Shaking your head in amusement, you smiled at him. âWell, thatâs all fine and dandy but how will I know what he looks like?â
His smile was smug as he reached into his coat and pulled out a picture. âHere you go.â
You looked at him suspiciously as you snatched the photo from his hand. Looking at the photo, you couldnât contain your laughter. âWhat the â ?â You broke off into more laughter. âCrowley! What were you doing? Why are you both in those ridiculous hats? And why is he so freaking hot?â
The King of Hell grimaced at her onslaught of questions. âYes, yes, I know that he is, as you say, âhotâ. And about the hats, donât judge us, or at least not me. The hats and photo was his idea.â
Still grinning and with tears of laughter lingering in your eyes you asked, âWho exactly is this guy, boss?â
Grinning, Crowley gestured towards the bar, âYouâre about to find out, Darling.â
You frowned at the door, extremely unwilling to go inside. Turning around, you were about to ask your fellow demon something only to find that he was no longer there. Scowling, you huffed in frustration and shoved the photo into your pocket before making your way to the door.
You instantly regretted it.
As soon as you opened the door, the loud music with the mix of all the people nearly caused you to go deaf. Grimacing, you tried to push your way through the crowd, trying desperately to catch sight of the man you were searching for. After about thirty minutes of searching through the crowd, you were about to give up. âMaybe Crowley got the wrong bar. Or maybe he just already left.â
You let your eyes slide over the crowd once more before finally resting on the bar. And there he was. You knew it instantly. Just by looking at that one photo you had you could immediately recognize his scruffy stubble, his sharp jaw, his perfect hair, and his perfectly sculpted body. The only issue? Man, was this guy wearing a lot of flannel.
He seemed to be lost in thought as he tapped his empty glass on the bar. The bartender came up and looked to be asking the man if he wanted some more. This made him jump slightly, shaking him out of his thoughts before replying. The barman nodded and took his glass.
âExcuse me?â A rude, snobbish voice from behind you made you jump. Turning around, you glared at the platinum blonde in four-inch pumps and wearing a dress that hugged her curves, came down to her mid-thigh, and showed way too much cleavage. Â
âCan I help you?â You asked in a strained, polite tone.
The woman huffed and flipped her hair. âYeah. You could help me by getting off the dance floor. People are trying to have fun over here and youâre just standing there staring at a guy at the bar like some stalker! Move please!â She flipped her hair once more before spinning around, soon disappearing into the crowd once more. You gaped after her incredulously as you internally fumed at the woman.
Now miffed, you turned back to the man who was now holding a full glass of what seemed to be whiskey. You quickly looked down at your outfit. You were wearing a white, button-down blouse with black leggings and black flats. Sighing, you reached up and unbuttoned your top three buttons to try and show off your own cleavage in hopes that it will help you get him outside.
You started to walk over, grabbing a martini from a waiter passing by and put up the act of being a bit tipsy. You put a goofy smile onto your face and let out a few obnoxious giggles to help get into character.
Stumbling over, you sat down on the stool beside the intriguing man. You sat patiently, smiling drunkenly as you observed his handsome features until he finally realized you were there. He raised an eyebrow as he sat his drink down and let his eyes wander down your body before resting them back onto your E/C eyes.
Raising a hand for him to shake, you introduced yourself. âHey, handsome!â You grinned excitedly as he shook your hand. âThe nameâs Y/N! How âbout you?â
The man shifted in his seat before replying. âDean. My nameâs Dean Winchester.â
You smiled. Even his name was intriguing. âSo, Dean,â you let your hand trail down his arm as he shivered under the touch. âWhat do you do for a living?â
His mind seemed to go blank as he finally tore his eyes off of you and back to his drink. âUh ⌠Well ⌠I âŚâ He stopped his stuttering and cleared his throat, taking a quick drink of his whiskey. âI work in Insurance! Itâs, uh, a pretty boring job but it pays alright I suppose.â He stopped talking as a blush started to creep itâs way up his neck.  You smiled at this and rested your elbow on the bar, your head resting upon your fist.
âHmm, that sounds interesting.â This only seemed to cause him to blush harder and it was quite obvious that he was internally scolding himself.
Leaning closer, you talked into his ear. âHow about we get out of here, Dean?â Your hand made its way to the front of his shirt where you began to tease at his top button. âYou and me? Get away from the noise?â
Dean let out a strangled moan at your closeness and quickly swallowed the rest of his alcohol. He spluttered as the strong beverage slid down his throat but he was finally able to nod in your direction. You grabbed a handful of his shirt and began to tug him away. He pulled back slightly so he could pay for his drinks but then followed you willingly.
Stumbling, you both made your way out the back and into the alley. You werenât entirely sure what you should next but seeing that slightly dazed look on Deanâs face made you want nothing more than for this to be real and not just a job. Before you knew it, it was as if your body wasnât in control anymore. You pushed him against the wall of the dark alley and shoved your lips onto his.
Now, itâs been a long time since youâve done anything remotely like this, and especially to someone that you just met, but you had to admit that the kiss was amazing. He was seriously a really good kisser. It seemed as if he had a lot of experience. A lot of good experience.
While you were lost in thought, Dean was able to take control and spun the both of you around to where it was now you pressed against the wall and Dean pressing his lips forcefully against yours. Your hands found their way into his hair and his into yours. Neither of you was willing to let you go but you both had to breathe - well, Dean had to.
As you were both panting for breath, you looked into each otherâs eyes in a daze that neither wanted broken - that was until Dean let out a shout in surprise and stumbled back in shock. You looked at him in confusion until you realized, that in the heat of the moment, your eyes had turned black proving to him that you were actually a demon.
You went to explain yourself but instead found yourself being impaled with a knife. You couldnât help but laugh at his failed attempt at killing you. You pulled the knife out of your chest and gave him a smug smile. âWas that supposed to hurt?â You teased.
He cursed and scolded himself as he started to back away from you some more. âThe one day I forget the demon knife at home!â
Rolling your eyes, you sighed at the fact that your moment was over, but you knew it was a moment you werenât going to forget anytime soon. âOkay, yeah, Iâm a demon,â you admitted. Your eyes briefly flashing black before turning back to your bright E/C ones. âI was sent to retrieve you for Crowley. Ya know, your bestie?â
You stood patiently as he gawked at you and tried to process the situation. He finally seemed to understand and began shaking his head frantically. âCrowley is not my bestie!â He shouted. âI hate him! Heâs the King of Hell! Iâve never been his best friend!â
âNot true, Dean.â The voice from behind him made Dean nearly jump out of his skin.
âCrowley!â He barked. âQuit doing that!â
âMy apologies, Squirrel,â the demon replied in a sarcastic matter. He turned towards you. âGood work, Y/N. Wasnât really expecting -â he waved his hand lazily in the air trying to find the right words. â- That, but whatever. Whatâs done is done.â
You blushed slightly at the thought of your boss watching you make-out with a guy. That was embarrassing.
Dean scowled at Crowley and folded his arms across his chest. âWhat do you want?â Crowley frowned at this question and looked at Dean as if the answer was obvious. âItâs simple, Squirrel! You werenât talking to me and this was the only thing I could think of to get my best friend back again.â
âOh really?â He mused. âHaving one of your demon employees come down and make-out with me a dark alley was the only thing you could think of, huh?â
Crowley shrugged. âWell, her job was to just seduce you into coming outside. She was the one that wanted to kiss you and such. Besides, who cares about the details, right?â
The Winchester rolled his eyes, and turned around, beginning to make his way out of the alley and back onto the street. âI am not putting up with this right now, Crowley.â
The King of Hellâs face flushed red in frustration as he watched Dean walk away. âYou can walk away all you want to, Winchester!â He called. âBut no matter what, you will be mine once more!â This time he flushed in embarrassment. âOh! Wait! That came out wrong! I meant you would be my friend once more! Dean! Come back!â
Before Dean disappeared from sight he flipped Crowley off without looking back or saying a word.
Crowley rubbed the back of his neck, appalled by the words that just came out of his mouth. He turned towards you. âThat sounded a bit gay of me, donât you think, Y/N?â
You were too distracted to reply as you stared at the spot where you last saw Dean and smiled. Not exactly knowing why, you hoped to see the man again. Real soon.
#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#demon!reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester#supernatural#mine#my writing#dean x reader#one-shot
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Three Englands and an American
Ficlet Valentine for @cwjhunt
Roses are red Bamboo is for pandas I think youâre a star So hereâs some Hamanda!
Fandom: Little Witch Academia Pairing: Hannah England x Amanda OâNeill
approx. 1650 words, rated T
In which Hannah receives some unexpected assistance taking care of her two younger cousins.
One kid? Hannah could handle that just fine. Two kids? Pushing the limits, but still manageable. But three kids?
"Kill me now."
Hannah had been press-ganged by her family into taking care of her younger cousins for an afternoon during their visit to Blytonbury. The girls were pleasant enough to spend time with, but they needed all of her attention. The last person Hannah wanted to see right now was Amanda O'Neill, who happened to be walking toward them.
The girls noticed that their cousin recognized Amanda.
"Who's that, Hannah?" The younger of the two girls, Gabriella tugged at Hannah's sleeve. Like all the Englands, she had auburn hair, tied back in two pigtails, and dressed in clothes as similar to the Luna Nova uniform as she could getâGabriella couldn't wait to go to the same school as her cousin. The eight year-old was Hannah's favourite of the two, sweet, well-mannered, and shaping up to be a proper witch.
"Is that your girlfriend?" The older of the two girls, Danielle, had learned the previous summer that Hannah was bisexual and brought it up at every available opportunity. The twelve year-old had developed an attitude and was old enough to resent having a babysitter, on whom she took out her frustrations through relentless teasing. Danielle couldn't have been more different from her sister; she had recently shorn her long hair into a rough pixie cut in a gesture of rebellion against her parents, and her current outfit was a pair of artfully ripped jeans and a black t-shirt with a crude slogan plastered across it.
"Absolutely not," Hannah protested. "She's nothing but trouble." Particularly what she did to Hannah. And her feelings. Hannah would never have expected that she would actually look forward to Amanda's attention. Unfortunately, the American's interest in her seemed to be strictly intended to frustrate her.
Amanda spotted the three of them, smirked and made a beeline for them. "Kids already?" she said. "I heard teen pregnancy was on the rise but this is ridiculous."
Hannah rolled her eyes. "They're not mine, jackass. They're my cousins."
"I'm Gabriella England. How do you do?" She held out her hand and Amanda shook it solemnly.
"I'm Amanda O'Neill," the American replied. "Coolest witch at Luna Nova."
Hannah elbowed her other cousin. "Introduce yourself, Danielle."
"Ugh," Danielle scoffed. "My name is so frickin' girly. I hate it."
"Danni, then," Amanda said. She held out her first for the twelve year-old to bump. Danni smiled and obliged.
"What are you doing here, Amanda?" Hannah asked. She hoped that she was in Blytonbury for something important so she'd go on her way and leave her alone.
"I was just killing time looking for something to do," Amanda said. "And look what I found." She laughed. "Three Englands? Is this the War of the Roses or something?"
"That reference almost makes sense, so I'll give it a pass," Hannah said. "Now get the hell out of here."
Gabriella tugged at Hannah's sleeve again. "Hannah, you said a bad word."
"Yeah," Danni said. "And earlier you called Amanda a jackass." Gabriella reprimanded her sister for repeating the word.
"Urk!" Hannah had forgotten to watch her mouth around the two younger girls. Amanda really did bring out the worst in her.
"Wow, Hannah," Amanda said, smirking even more obnoxiously. "Looks like you don't have what it takes to take care of kids."
Hannah put her hands on her hips. "And you do?"
"I'm actually great with kids."
"Yeah, because you are one!"
"As fun is it is to watch your lover's spat," Danni said, "I thought we were going to the park."
"Yeah!" Gabriella said. "You said we were going to see the ducks and go to a cafĂŠ!"
"We are not having a lover's spat!" Hannah blushed.
"Like I'd be having a lover's spat with her!" Amanda said, forcing a laugh.
"Amanda should come with us too!" Gabriella grabbed Amanda's arm.
"Yeah," Danni chimed in. "Amanda seems like way more fun than you." She grabbed Amanda's other arm.
"I've been captured," Amanda said dramatically. "I guess I have no choice."
"No way," Hannah said. "I'm not watching three kids."
"Please?" Gabriella and Danni gave Hannah their best wobbly lip
Hannah considered her options. She didn't need Amanda complicating her task of taking care of her cousins, but on the other hand, Gabriella and Danni rarely agreed on anything, and if she could mollify both at once, that was a win. And if Amanda was as good with kids as she said she was...
"Fine," Hannah sighed. "But you better behave yourself." She pointed at Amanda accusingly.
"Yes, mom."
The group of three became four and made their way to the park. Hannah led the way, holding Gabriella's hand; Danni trailing at Amanda's heels like a puppy. Once at the park, Gabriella went straight to the pond to feed the ducks, and Amanda magicked up a ball for her and Danni to kick around. Hannah noticed that Amanda had intuited Danni's boundless energy and chosen an activity that would tire her out. In theory. Danni ended up climbing a tree to show off to Amanda. While Hannah chased her back down to the ground, Amanda gave Gabriella a piggyback ride. Once the energy was wrung out of the two girls, they lazed around on the grass in front of the lakeâHannah chastised Amanda for her unladylike sitting position.
"I wish Amanda were my cousin," Danni said wistfully. "She's so much cooler than Hannah."
Hannah frowned, but before she could respond, Amanda chimed in. "You have no idea. Hannah's such a bossy-pants."
"I know how bossy she is way better than you," Danni said competitively. "She's always lecturing me on manners 'cause she's the queen of being ladylike."
Amanda scoffed. "Hannah? Ladylike? She challenged me to a duel for pulling a prank on her." She neglected to mention it was the eighth prank that week.
"Whoa!" Danni looked at Hannah with stars in her eyes. "You challenged someone to a duel!?"
"That's nothing," Amanda said. She smirked at Hannah. "Didn't you spit at Chloe after she trash-talked Diana?"
"That was supposed to be a secret!"
"Hannah, spitting is bad," Gabriella said earnestly.
"Well," Hannah scrambled for an appropriate answer. "If someone is being rude, they aren't deserving of a lady's finer manners and should be treated accordingly."
Gabriella considered this, while Danni stared at Hannah incredulously, apparently reassessing her opinion of her cousin.
Their time in the park came to an end and Hannah ushered the others in the direction of the cafĂŠ. As the girls walked (Amanda joking with the girls along the way), Hannah tried to puzzle out Amanda's behaviour. Not only was she actually being helpful, her revelations that Hannah wasn't as stiff as she seemed gave her a huge boost in Danni's books. Was Amanda trying to make things easier on her? Naturally Hannah appreciated the effort, but the thought of Amanda going out of her way for her put butterflies in her stomach.
They got to the cafĂŠ and Amanda took the others' orders. When it came for Hannah's turn, Amanda put a finger on her lips before she could speak.
"I know exactly what you want," Amanda said before walking off mysteriously.
"Ooh!" Gabriella and Danni voiced in unison. Hannah shushed them and herded them off to a table.
Amanda returned with their orders; she handed Hannah a scone and a coffee with a single creamâjust how she liked it.
"How'd I do?" Amanda asked cockily.
"H-h-how do you know what I like?" Hannah spluttered.
"I asked Barbara and she said that was your fave." Amanda waved her phone.
"You have Barbara's number?"
Amanda smirked. "Jealous?"
"As if!"
"Damn, I try to impress you and this is what I get?" A crack appeared in Amandaâs suave facade at that slip of the tongue.
Hannah raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you care about impressing anybody?"
"That's the thing," Amanda replied nervously. "You're not anybody; you're nobody!"Â
"Hey!" Hannah felt her face grow hot with indignation. And then she processed that, posturing aside, Amanda had admitted to trying to impress her, and her face grew even hotter out of embarrassment.
"Awww, you two are so such a cute couple," Danni said, taking a self-satisfied bite of her donut.
"We are not a couple!" Hannah yelped.
"Amanda, Hannah won't tell us if she has a boyfriend," Gabriella said. "Does she have a boyfriend?"
"Does she have a girlfriend?" Danni asked.
"Not yet," Amanda said, winking at Hannah, who made a strangled noise in response.
Is Amanda flirting with me!? The thought was more than she could bear. Is that what she's been doing all along!? Or is just trying to annoy me? Did she come along with us because she wanted to spend time with me? Impress me?
"Just have your snacks, children," Hannah said in a high-pitched voice. The girls grinned and did as they were told. Even Amanda.
For a while, anyway.
"Admit it," she said, nudging Hannah with her elbow, "you're glad I'm here to help you out."
Hannah couldn't disagree. Amanda had made the afternoon easier on Hannah. She was good with kids after all, and they actually made quite the team. Taking care of kids. Together.
And following that line of thought made Hannah choke on her coffee.
"I had lots of fun with Amanda," Danni said.
"Me too!" Gabriella added.
The hopeful tones in their voices pushed Hannah to make a decision. She ignored her own apprehensions and the jittering of her heartbeats and pushed forward. "I'm in charge of Gabriella and Danni tomorrow too," she said. "I... I would appreciate it if you helped me baby-sit them again."
"It's a date." Amanda smiled so sincerely that Hannah was left speechless.
"I guess I'll be getting Amanda as a cousin after all," Danni said slyly.
"Danni England!"
#ficlet valentine#little witch academia#lwa#hamanda#hannah england#amanda o'neill#heckin' ocs my dude#gabriella england#danni england#fluff#sass#valentine for cam#ily cam!#đđđ#my fanfiction
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from the sea - chapter five
Summary: When Emma becomes sheriff, the pressure of running a department with a dwindling budget becomes nothing but an exercise in frustration. That is, until she finds an unlikely ally in the town treasurer, a man who her kid Henry is convinced is not an ally at all, but rather a villainous enemy. Season 1 AU, Cursed!Killian.
Rating and Warnings: Teen.
Catch up: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4
Read on AO3
On the Sunday morning following Emmaâs coffee outing with Newport, she is awoken by the shrill ringing of the loftâs landline telephone. Emma nearly topples completely out bed at the sound, grunting in surprise. As if it wasnât loud enough, the piercing sounds of the telephone are soon followed with a sudden clattering of dishes, echoing and crashing throughout the loft.
âSorry!â Mary Margaret calls from downstairs, her voice breathless as if sheâd just run a marathon. âI dropped all the pots and pans.â
âAll of them?â Emma mutters darkly, reaching up to her bed to grab her pillow, stuffing it over her face to try to muffle some of the ringing that is still screeching throughout the apartment. âHow is that even possible?â
Finally, the phoneâs shrill rings cut off, and Emma can hear Mary Margaret talking in hushed tones to whoever is on the other line.
Emma lies there, pillow over her face, and briefly considers hauling herself back into the bed and burrowing her nose back into the warmth of her covers rather than just getting up and on with her day. This Sunday is one of her rare days off, and sheâd been looking forward to having the morning to sleep in. But now that sheâs awake, thereâs no point pretending anymore.
Untwisting herself from the blankets, she rises from the floor and grabs her glasses from beside the clock on her bedside table. She never wears them out anymore, but her eyesight is still so bad that theyâre needed to get from the bedroom to the bathroom to put her contacts in without an incident of cracking her knee against a bedpost or completely wiping out down the stairs.
By the time sheâs dressed and on her way downstairs, Mary Margaret is off the phone. She meets Emma at the bottom of the stairs, phone still clutched in her hands, an eager shine to her eyes.
âDo you want to come to the farmerâs market with me?â she asks, her voice so quick that her words jumble together.
Emma blinks at her, still half-asleep and incapable of translating the muddled words in her current state. âTo what?â
âThe farmerâs market,â Mary Margaret repeats, forcing her voice calmer. âItâs just down the road, right behind the cannery. Itâs where all the local business set up booths and theyâll sell cute little knickknacks and ââ
âI know what a farmerâs market is,â Emma interjects dryly, and opens her mouth to agree to come, but then frowns in thought.
Newportâs words about how the farmers and artisans arenât pleased with her due to the budget shuffle echo through her mind. Her instinct is to deny Mary Margaretâs request, but as quick as she thinks that, sheâs changed her mind. If she wants to go to the damn market, sheâs gonna go, and not let some bitter townspeople ruin her day.
âEmma?â
She shakes herself. âYeah, sure. But I have to shower and have breakfast first.â
âShower only,â Mary Margaret replies firmly, grabbing her arms and steering her away from the kitchen. âThey have fresh scones and fruit and all sorts of things at the market.â
Emmaâs eyebrows raise at this very un-Mary Margaret-like behaviour, but she can demand to know what the hell is going on, Mary Margaret pushes her into the bathroom and slams the door shut right on her startled face.
âBe quick!â
Emma blinks at the closed door, before shaking her head and getting to her routine. She showers, puts her contact lenses in, and brushes her teeth. She thinks sheâs making pretty good time, and is towelling her hair dry when there is a sudden sharp rapping on the door that nearly makes her jump out of her skin.
âHowâs it going, Emma?â
She sighs, and opens the door, showing her roommate her damp hair, the towel still around her shoulders. âIâm almost done, but if youâre in a rush, just go without me. Iâll meet you there.â
âNo, no, Iâll wait for you, donât be silly,â Mary Margaret says quickly, her voice too casual. âJust â you know, hurry up.â
Mary Margaret pads away from the door, her cheeks flushed, and Emma gets dressed again in the same outfit she had put on just a few minutes ago â warm white sweater and dark blue jeans. After drying her hair only briefly with Mary Margaretâs obnoxious old hairdryer, she stares longingly at her curling iron, but has a feeling that Mary Margaret will have a fit if she delays them too long with that. Instead, she quickly braids her still damp hair, and hoping that it not being totally dry wonât come back to bite her in the ass â in her experience, wet hair and chilly weather arenât the best partners.
When Emma emerges from the bathroom, Mary Margaret is seated at the kitchen bar stool. Sheâs changed her outfit in the time Emma was occupied, and now sports a looser white blouse, paired with a simple grey skirt, instead of the plain sweatpants and old t-shirt sheâd been wearing earlier. Emma raises her eyebrow at her, unused to seeing her get dressed up so nicely on the weekend.
She jumps to her feet as Emma exits the bathroom, swinging a bright green scarf around her neck and rather hilariously hitting herself in the face with the other end.
âReady? Letâs go.â
She is halfway out the door before Emma has even taken a step further.
âWhoa, what has gotten into you?â she demands, striding to the door and pulling on one of her warmer leather jackets, a deep burgundy one with zippered sleeves, and plopping a knit gray beanie on top of her head, and adds, more to herself than to Mary Margaret, âSeriously, what is the deal with people in Storybrooke and this market?â
âNothingâs up with me,â Mary Margaret says, her flushed cheeks saying exactly the opposite. âI just donât want to miss the market.â
Emma is certain that theyâre nowhere near the end time for one of these things â itâs only 9:30 after all â but keeps that comment to herself as she and Mary Margaret leave their apartment and make their way down the street to the parking lot next to the cannery.
Emma can hear the sounds of the market far before they can even see it: loud chatter, folk music, the idling engines of cars. When they finally come around the corner of the small hotel that blocks their view of the parking lot, they are greeted with five spacious rows of ten booths each that take up the majority of the paved area. The whole market area is packed, families browsing through the many stalls full of fresh fruit, wooden houseware, and various knickknacks.
âArenât you glad I dragged you along for this?â Mary Margaret sighs happily, and she links arms with Emma, tugging her along to the first aisle of vendors.
âI suppose so,â she replies grumpily, tugging at her beanie to pull down lower over her head at the cold sea breeze off the ocean. âI wish youâd let me get some coffee beforehand, but ââ
âYou drink too much coffee, Emma,â Mary Margaret says brightly. âOne morning without will do you some good.â
Emma rolls her eyes. âWho are you, my mother?â
Mary Margaret comes to a stop then, and Emma nearly dislocates her elbow at the sudden stop in movement. Muttering a curse, she looks around to see what has stopped her roommate, and then she spots it.
Or rather, who.
David Nolan, standing innocently beside a flower stand and peering at the bouquet of red roses in front of him.
Of course.
Immediately, Emma searches for Kathryn Nolan somewhere around him too. But David is alone, his wife nowhere to be seen.
âSo, this is why you wanted to come here so badly,â she mutters, and earns herself a sharp elbow in the ribs in response.
âI didnât even know heâd be here!â Mary Margaret shoots back quickly, but her cheeks are flushed pink, reddening even more as Emma catches her gaze.
Emma snorts, and shakes her head, unsure whether to be amused or saddened (or worried, frankly) about her friend and the married, recovering amnesiac.
âWhere are those scones you promised me?â she asks instead, looking at the stalls around them. âIâll go get one of those while you talk to your Prince Charming.â
Mary Margaret ignores her and simply points out a baked goods stand a couple of booths down the current row. Emma, still rolling her eyes so hard she wonders if you can get an eye injury from over rolling, de-tangles herself from Mary Margaret and heads down there while her roommate teleports to Davidâs side as soon as sheâs stepped away.
Pointedly ignoring them behind her, Emma purchases a strawberry scone from the vendor. Sheâs a grumpy woman, who glares pointedly at Emmaâs sheriff badge pinned to her jeans and makes a big fuss about how Emma doesnât have the exact change to make the $2.47 that the scone costs. Itâs almost more trouble than itâs worth, but Emmaâs rumbling stomach makes her grit her teeth and shift a bit more in the depths of her wallet until she finds enough change to make it work.
She munches on the scone and strolls along the vendors. The next stand over is a jewellery one, full of pretty little trinkets of the kind she thinks Mary Margaret would like, but the owner has such a nasty expression on her face when Emma approaches that she feels distinctly unwelcome to even browse. The next stations are similar stories, the owners standing aloof and glaring pointedly at her, when Emma reaches the fourth one in a row like that, sheâs nearly lost her patience.
She knows they are angry about the budget cuts to the market, but seriously? Sheâs a citizen of Storybrooke now too, and theyâre glaring at her for daring to show her face here?
Seriously, what the hell is up with this town and markets?
Taking a breath to calm herself so she doesnât snap at the vendors and make things worse, Emma skips the rest of the booths in that row, heading to the next aisle over and hoping sheâll see some friendlier faces over there.
And, to her surprise, she spots one.
Standing at a fruit stand half-way down the aisle, examining boxes of peaches and nectarines with a furrowed brown, is Wes Newport. Heâs dressed more casually today, his formal suits gone and replaced with dark jeans and a black sweater that makes his dark hair look even more striking. Like her, the owner of the fruit stand is eyeing him coldly and other passing customers take one look at him and then retreat to another stand with irritated expressions.
Well, at least they can be outcasts together.
âNewport!â Emma calls, moving towards him. âHey, Wes!â
He glances up, and he smiles when he notices her. âSwan,â he calls back in greeting as Emma strides up to join him. âNice to see you. What are you up to?â
She shakes her head with a small snort, slipping her hands into her back pockets as she comes to a stop in front of Newport. âApparently coming to the market is a mandatory event when you live in Storybrooke.â
Newport chuckles at her sarcastic tone. âIt is something of a big deal.â
âAs I can tell.â Â
Emma steps in beside Newport, and she joins him in browsing through the rest of the aisle, leaving the fruit stand behind with no purchases when it became clear the owner was in no mood to even address him or Emma. The dirty looks continue as they go down the row, seeming to only increase now that the vendors see Emma and Newport together, but itâs somehow easier to ignore the dark glares with Newport at her side.
They walk nearly the length of two aisles, pausing here and there to browse, chatting pleasantly and laughing easily. The pause in front of one of the booths, which stands out significantly from the others. Itâs gorgeous, the sign declaring it Game of Thorns, and the booth is overflowing with roses, daisies, violets, carnations, and other flowers Emma canât even name, the fragrant and beautiful smell spreading delightfully throughout the surrounding area.
The owner of this booth is more pleasant than any of the others. âSheriff, Mr. Newport. Glad to see you two here â can I interest you in any flowers this morning?â
He holds out a bouquet of white flowers to Emma, and Emma accepts it from him, so surprised at his warm tone compared to the rest of the market that she doesnât think twice about taking the bouquet. She sniffs the flowers â sweet buttercups â but sheâs hardly had the opportunity to enjoy them or pass them to Newport for a smell when a cold voice speaks from behind them.
âGlad to see youâre still in business, Mr. French. I wasnât sure, as after all, I havenât got this monthâs rent yet.â
Emma pulls away from the buttercup, scowling, and Newport tenses beside her. Mr. Gold is standing opposite them, leaning on his cane with a serpentine smile, and staring at the man whoâd given Emma the flowers.
He swallows deeply, beads of sweat beginning to dot his forehead. âMy â my apologies, Mr. Gold. As â as Iâve told you, Iâve paid you what I can, but the markets are down to only once a month now and besides that ââ
âThat is not my concern,â Gold interrupts coldly, and Emmaâs dislike of him escalates at the callous tone to his voice. âThe only thing I care about is getting my rent on time, Mr. French, and on that you are sorely delayed.â
âGive the man a break, Gold,â Newport snaps, his hatred sharpening his voice into a cutting tone. âYou heard him â heâs paid you what he can already.â
âDid I ask your opinion, Mr. Newport?â Gold asks coolly, finally sliding his eyes over to acknowledge their presence for the first time. He glances at Emma too, and the flowers in her hands, and he smirks, looking back to Newport and then her again. âWhat pretty flowers you have there, Ms. Swan. Buttercups, are they? They suit you.â
Emma narrows her eyes, and she sets the flowers down, resting her hands on her hips instead, shifting her weight so her badge gleams in the sunlight.
âDo we have a problem here, Gold?â
âOf course not, Sheriff. I was simply dropping by to remind Mr. French of his dues.â
âAnd he told you heâs paid you what he can,â Emma says flatly. âSo perhaps the two of you can come to some sort of agreement in the meantime?â
French nods eagerly, but Gold just glares at them all. He doesnât speak, but when itâs clear that neither Emma or Newport are leaving, his face twists angrily, and he spits out, âI have nothing to discuss with Mr. Newport here.â
Emma narrows her eyes and braces herself for a fight. She knows Newport well enough to know heâll hate being spoken to by Gold like that, and he doesnât disappoint.
âFine,â he grounds out. âIâll take my leave then. Good luck, Mr. French; youâll need it with this slimy bastard.â
Emma winces as Goldâs face flushes with rage, but Newport turns on his heel before the pawnbroker can reply. He nods to Emma as he departs, and Emma turns to face Gold and French, crossing her arms over her chest. So much for her day off and fun morning at the market â back to keeping the peace it is.
Newport grinds his teeth together as he walks away from Emma, Gold, and Mr. French. He knows Emma is perfectly capable of handling things on her own, that he doesnât doubt or question, but heâs furious at the mere presence of Gold. Â
He continues down the aisle, but doesnât go too far, loitering by a jewellery stand several stands over to wait for Emma. The stand is chock full of silvery necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and rings. Theyâre mostly feminine designs, with jewelled pendants and heart-shaped lockets. His gaze falls on an outlying piece of jewellery at the edge of the table, and he peers at it, suddenly taken.
Heâs not a jewellery man (a single pierced ear remains as a reminder of his once rebellious phase when he was a younger man), but thereâs something about this necklace that makes his gaze linger over it. Itâs got two charms, a skull and a sword, strung together on a thick silver chain. The necklace is obviously second hand, the charms worn and chipped in places, and heâs a bit surprised to see it amongst the rest of the pristine jewellery.
âExcuse me,â he says, and the attendant, a younger man with a pierced ear and a thick navy coloured cravat turns to him. âCan you tell me about this necklace?â
The man lumbers over, and nods as he takes in the necklace in Newportâs hand. âAh, yeah. Looks a bit different than the rest, eh? I actually got it from Goldâs pawnshop.â
Newportâs hand curls into a fist at his side, blood boiling at the manâs name, but the vendor pays no notice.
âNice, eh? Traded it in for a couple kerchiefs; thought it would add a little spice to the rest of the collection.â The man pauses for a second, eyeing Newport up and down, and says, a bit incredulously, âYou interested in it?â
And Newport knows what the man is thinking â what does he, the orderly town treasurer want with a rather gothic and piratical-looking necklace? But something strange has come over him and he knows he cannot leave this booth without the necklace in his possession. Perhaps that it used to be Goldâs possession, but whatever it is, he has to have it.
âIâll take it.â
The young man looks surprised for another brief moment, but nods quickly, clearly not willing to lose the sale by asking any more questions. He wraps the necklace up in tissue paper, slipping it in a velvet baggie while Newport fishes out his wallet.
âThanks very much, Mr. Newport,â the man says, bestowing a small smile as Newport nods in turn. âHave a nice day.â
Newport slips the baggie into the back pocket of his jeans as he steps away, resisting the urge to pull out the necklace and slip it on over his head. Shaking his head, a bit unnerved at whatâs come over him, he glances over to see how Emmaâs getting on, trying to distract himself.
Sheâs standing with her back to him, hands on her hips, as Gold and French argue in front of her, and Newport can see her irritation in just her stance. His return to her side wonât be welcome now, and he turns back, eyes roving down the rest of the aisle to see where else he can waste some time, when his eyes fall on the beginnings of an altercation brewing down the row.
Mr. Casolare, the man who had strewn his papers about at the town hall meeting, and another local farmer named John Badger, are standing toe-to-toe in the centre of the row, both menâs hands clenched into fists at their sides.
Newport sighs at the sight, glancing behind him once more to Emma. Heâd told her he was just there browsing and enjoying the day and, while thatâs not a complete lie, there is more to it too. No matter that itâs the weekend, Newportâs duties as Reginaâs employee are never done.
Regina never attends these community events herself â âpeasantsâ affairsâ, she calls them â and while Sheriff Graham had often been her eyes and ears here, now that heâs gone, the task has fallen to Newport.
Her orders of âmake sure everything stays civilâ echoes in his head at seeing Casolare and Badger arguing, and he sighs again. Heâs not one for conflict â these days, at least â but heâs been sent here on a specific mission and thereâs a form of steel in Reginaâs words that make him step forward towards the two men.
âWhat seems to be the problem here?â
Casolare and Badger tear their eyes from each other to turn to him, and Casolare scowls immediately. Badger doesnât look pleased either, but he at least doesnât give Newport a death glare as he instantly starts speaking.
âCasolare here is accusing me of stealing his customers. Which is utterly ridiculous as ââ
âItâs true, and you damn well know it,â Casolare snarls back. He looks away from Badger, his rage turning to Newport, and he steps towards him instead. âAnd, if this was any other day, any other market morning, Iâd not care so much. But now because of you ââ he jabs his finger angrily into Newportâs chest and a fiery rage erupts from that spot, shooting hotly through Newportâs blood like lightning â âI need all the sales I can get, and if Badger here keeps snatching up all the customers as they walk by just cause heâs closer to the entrance of the aisle, itâs not gonna happen and then ââ
âItâs not my fault that my cherries are better than yours,â Badger retorts then, balling his hands into fists. âYours are half-rotten already, look at them ââ
That sets Casolare off, and he lunges forward at Badger with a roar of anger. Newport, with quick reflexes he wasnât aware he had, jumps forward and grabs Casolareâs collar, stopping him from tackling Badger to the ground.
âKnock it off, Casolare,â he snaps, the hot rage sparked by Casolareâs shove to the chest starting to bubble over now. The feeling of such an unbridled fury coming upon him so quickly startles him, but itâs also a strangely familiar feeling, though one he feels like he hasnât felt in eons.
âI damn well wonât knock it off ââ
âAre you serious, Ron? Youâre going to attack me?â Badger demands face white in fear, and he steps back, looking horrified. âOver cherries?â
Casolare snarls, face flushing with anger, and tries to lunge out at him again. Newport tugs him back once more, shoving him a bit further away from Badger.
âI said knock it off,â he growls. âOr you wonât be welcome at the next market. Mayor Mills doesnât tolerate any sort of ââ
Casolare laughs out loud then, spraying Newportâs face with cold spittle, and Newport falls silent in surprise.
âSo thatâs why youâre really here, eh, Newport? Mayor Mills canât do her own dirty work? And now that Sheriff Humbertâs dead and the new sheriff wonât do it for her, youâre up?â He shakes his head, and spits onto the ground, barely missing Newportâs shoes. âI always knew you were nothing but her mindless slave.â
Slave.
The word seems to echo around Newportâs head, reverberating and growing louder, twisting into another manâs voice, a darker, crueller voice. A voice that shouts the word at him over and over, emerging as if from memories long buried. And suddenly the rage heâd been trying to quell overwhelms him, rushing through him and boiling his blood, and he snaps.
Casolare has turned back to Badger, arguing again and ignoring Newport totally, but he steps forward and shoves Casolare away from Badger. Casolare stumbles, caught completely off guard, and nearly topples right over as he yelps in surprise. Newport grabs hold of his shirt collar, yanking him upright and closer so that theyâre nearly nose-to-nose.
âWhat the hell is wrong with ââ
âYou listen to me, Casolare,â Newport snarls, and his voice sounds foreign to even his own ears â rougher, angrier, darker. âI am no oneâs slave. If you ever say such a thing to me again, or even think such a thing, youâre going to find out just how cruel I can be of my own accord.â
âAlright, alright, cool it,â Casolare chokes out, eyes widening in alarm. "I didnât mean to get you so riled up, Newport, Jesus ââ
And then, as suddenly as the anger had swelled up, it drains out of Newport in one fell swoop. Itâs as if hearing his name has flipped a switch somewhere internally, locking that anger and rage back into whatever cage itâd been contained in, and heâs left cold and empty.
âSorry,â he says, abruptly releasing Casolare, who stumbles away from him. âI donât â I donât know what came over me.â
Casolare just stares back at him, and Badger is lost for words now too. The two men look at each other, their own argument forgotten, and take off without another word towards their respective booths.
Newport watches them skedaddle only superficially; his thoughts are too muddled with shock to really process much else. That reaction heâd had to Casolareâs words ⌠he doesnât remember ever becoming so angry so quickly ever in his life, ever having felt such deep rage so furiously fast. It alarms him how quickly that anger had come up on him, how easy it had been to just give over to it and to let it course through him, to let it consume him.
Where the hell had that come from?
He takes a deep breath, running his hand through his hair, and steps back into the main aisle of the market. Luckily, it seems that none of the other customers had noticed his altercation with the two farmers, or if they have, theyâve looked away again, back to pretending he doesnât exist.
Heâs so out of sorts, staring at the end of the row stand with knit tea cozies on every possible surface and not even seeing them, that he doesnât even notice when Emma comes up to stand beside him.
âYou okay there, Wes?â she asks, her voice curious and cautious. Her business with Gold and French is clearly over, the men nowhere in sight, and her attention is fully on him, eyebrow raised and a peculiar expression on her face.
âAye,â he says, a moment too late. âIâm fine. Um, how â how did you end up? With Gold and French?â
She narrows her eyes at him, and he knows his attempt to change the subject hasnât fooled her for a moment. âOh fine. I think we figured something out, though I think Gold left more pissed than when he got there.â She tilts her head at him. âAnd you? You look like you just saw a ghost.â
Not a ghost, he thinks grimly. More like a demon, and more like he saw it within himself.
âNo, no. I just ...â he hesitates, not sure how to explain what came over him. âWell, there was some trouble with two of the farmers. They were arguing about customers, and then saw me and got annoyed with the budget cuts, and I lost my temper with them.â
Emma frowns, clearly surprised. âReally?â
He hesitates again, and then shakes his head. âYeah. I donât know why. One second Casolare was just talking and then ââ
âCasolare?â Emma interrupts, and her eyes immediately search for the man in question over Newportâs shoulder. He looks too, seeing the man fuming at his stand and pointedly not looking anywhere near them. When Newport looks back to Emma, her eyes are narrowed, mouth pinched into a dark scowl. âThe man from Town Hall? The one who knocked those papers over?â
He sees easily that Emmaâs misread what happened, that somehow Casolare antagonized him like heâd done at Town Hall and thatâs why he got angry. And sure, thatâs true on a surface level, but Newport himself is the one at fault here. Heâs the one who overreacted, who acted like a raging monster. Not Casolare.
But he doesnât answer, doesnât correct Emmaâs thought, before sheâs speaking again, straightening and dropping her hands to her hips.
âThis is ridiculous. If you think there will be trouble next time thereâs one of these markets, I can come to the next one in uniform. First Gold and French, and now this. This is getting out of hand.â
Newport is hardly listening to her, and itâs not until Emma taps him on the arm that he breaks out of it. Sheâs frowning at him, and he can tell she mustâve asked him something, something he has no idea about.
âPardon me?â
Her frown deepens, and she doesnât remove her hand from his arm. âAre you sure youâre okay, Wes?â
âYes,â he answers. At her unconvinced expression, he adds, âIâm fine, really.â
Emma nods after a moment, though her brows are still knitted together, and she removes her hand from his arm.
âOkay.â
Thereâs a moment of uncomfortable silence, their ease of the morning fading as the silence continues. Newport canât think of what to say, to bring back their earlier camaraderie, feeling rather like he just wants to leave the market, to return to the safety of his flat and figure out what the hell came over him.
His intentions must be easy to read because Emma sighs then, and looks away, rubbing her arms. âWell, I better go find Mary Margaret and make sure sheâs doing okay,â she says, and her eyes flicker back to him, a tiny lilt of hopefulness in her tone in her next words. âI guess ... I guess Iâll see you around?â
He nods, and smiles. âOf course, Swan. It was â it was very nice to see you this morning, even amidst all the ... tension.â
She smiles back in return, and then with a wave and another smile, Emma turns and disappears into the crowd with the rest of Storybrooke, and Newportâs alone. Though heâs been lonely for as long as he can remember, somehow, watching Emma walk away makes him feel its sharp hollowness as if he never felt it before and itâs all he can do to scurry away home instead of just running right after her.
That night, Newport falls into bed still fully dressed. Heâd gone into the office after returning home to an empty apartment and loud thoughts, with suddenly no desire to face either. Work had calmed him down, but the sudden rage from the market has spooked him and it lingers at the back of his mind, lurking and prowling.
Luckily doing some work also exhausted him, and by the time he had trudged home, he was so tired, he didnât even bother changing, asleep on the covers before his head had barely hit the pillow.
Dreams overtake him immediately. Theyâre restless, occupied mostly by a sneering man named Silver, who screams at him for his slow work, laughs at him for being a drunk, mocks his inability to hold onto any of his money, taunts him with his lack of freedom.
He senses that heâs younger in the dream, not more than a teenager, and in that state, itâs hard to restrain the tears of fury and pain in his eyes at the cruel treatment. He cowers from Silver, feeling afraid of whatâs to come, and itâs when the man reaches out to strike him that Newport finally wakes from the dream, awake like a bolt of lightning before the man gets a chance to touch him.
His apartment is quiet in the early hours of the morning, calm and restful. Newport can hear his heartbeat loudly in his ears, and he shakes his head, trying to clear the dream.
A slow worker, a drunk, a gambler ... none of the things that Newport is.
But why had it felt so familiar?
Fair enough, there had been some issue with alcohol in the past, but that was long ago. But Newport has always prided himself on his quick work and, hell, Regina made him treasurer because of how good he is with money. Gambling, laziness, an alcoholic ... they arenât words heâd used to describe himself, but they settle eerily in his mind, far too familiar.
He shudders, and throws the covers off himself, trying to force away the lingering unease. His clothes are uncomfortable now after hours of sleeping, and he rises to change, flicking on the side lamp as he goes. As he tosses his jeans onto a chair, the pirate necklace heâd already forgotten about tumbles out onto the soft rug, spilling out of its little pouch and gleaming in the dim light.
Goosebumps raise on the back of his neck as he picks it up, the metal cold in his hand. The uneasiness returns, the necklace feeling as familiar as the strange dream had. Spooked, he clenches the necklace into his fist and opens the bedside dresser drawer, tossing it inside. He stares at it for a moment, the skull and sword gleaming, and he slams the drawer shut, unnerved once again.
#cs ff#captain swan#ouat#cs mc ff#from the sea#hope you like it :)#i had fun writing this chapter#getting some of Killian's POV in the story now too!#cs fic
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The Great Ex-Aid Rewatch: Ex-Aid & Ghost, Part Two
Okay, back to it for part two of who-know-how-many of my Dr. Pac-Man liveblog!
Time for more gamers, doctors, ghosts, and terrible examples of science that people should in no way, shape, or form try to emulate!
âââ âââ
When last we saw our doctor heroes, they were escaping from Dr. Pac-Man with the victim-of-the-week, and the Ghost team was coming to their aid, leaving Shinnosuke back at the precinct.
We pick back up with Emu, Asuna, and Tougo running, but being blocked from one direction by Doral and Giril, and a still very glitchy Dr. Pac-Man on the other.
Turns out, the Pac-viruses arenât technically bugsters at all â theyâre just⌠er. Viruses, I guess, that Dr. Pac-Man used to set up a virus detection program. Specifically, to track the Bugster Virus, so that he could hunt down Tougo, whoâs a carrier of a new strain.
Wait, so, the fevers that are hitting the people throughout the city arenât the game disease, then? Or are there more forms to it than the bugster virus? âŚI may have to go into this in my fics at some point, but not now.
But anyway, itâs a new strain, one that comes from Hatesate Puzzle, so naturally the GenmCorp systems wouldnât have any information on it â itâs not one of their products, so thereâs no reason to expect it to spawn a bugster of itâs own.
Takeru, Akari, and Onari show up, with Takeru accusing Dr. Pac-Man of being Zaizen Michihiko. Fortunately for all of us, he is, and admits such as soon as Takeru brings it up. This means I no longer have to type âDr. Pac-Manâ nearly as often, and we donât have to deal with his squeaky voice changer anymore.
That thing was obnoxious.
Zaizen, who should have died six years ago, has managed â somehow â to revive as a Bugster. Which, as we know now, is foreshadowing for what happens down the line in-show. (Actually, this might be where Kuroto got that particular plan from in the first place.) Heâs come back to finish his plans from back then.
He and his âteamâ were working on a âgenome projectâ, to create a new life form via operating on a patient infected with the game disease. A project to create a bugster.
But things went wrong.
Something happened, and we see the âpatientâ â his face tactfully hidden by scenery the entire time â bucking on the table, the four âdoctorsâ drawing back in surprise. As a swarm of orange lights emerges from him and form into the shape of a person, lines of light form a game area around the room, while the four âdoctorsâ are dissolved into fragments of data.
And now? Now theyâre back from being banished to the shadow realm game world, and ready to fulfill their âmaster plan.â
Emu â sweet, blissfully unaware, ten-episodes-in Emu â says that he may not know anything about this so-called master plan, but to use Pac-Man for this, to endanger all of these people⌠how can they call themselves doctors?! Doctors are supposed to help people!
Zaizen declares that anyone who stands against him must die, and Hatena â the latest Bugster â summons a massive number of enormous falling blocks. That would be bad enough, since said blocks are approximately person sized, and could easily crush someone.
Except that Hatesate Puzzle is a match three puzzle game. When three blocks of the same color line up? They explode.
Makoto and Alain show up from⌠somewhere, just in time to see Takeru make a dive to cover Akari with his body to protect her from another wave of blocks.
They are both caught up in the explosions. When the smoke clears, Takeru manages to wake Akari up, barely.
They both start to turn transparent, bursts of static crackling across them, at which point Akari passes back out.
Takeru, having had some very traumatic experiences with being transparent, makes the very natural assumption that theyâve both just died.
Fortunately, Emu is there, and able to yell that no, no, youâre not dead, thatâs the bugster virus, please calm down!
Well, theyâre not dead yet, according to Hatena, who says that unless someone manages to defeat him in the next 24 hours, theyâre done for. This, naturally, pisses Makoto and Alain the hell off, and they go on the offensive.
I love civilian outfit fights, because you can get more of a sense of how the characters really move. I hold to the theory that putting on Rider armor, in any series, enhances the wearers usual abilities, so while you can see how they fight, you can get a far more accurate idea of it when they fight out of suit.
Against Giril, for all that the first part of the fight is more of a dance between her, Makoto, and Alain, you can tell that theyâre skilled at this â that theyâve been through battles. They do eventually wind up getting hit â her fighting style is very different from the ones theyâre used to facing, and Alain in particular takes some nasty palm strikes and kicks to the chest, but theyâre still putting up a good show. (Especially for a pair who lost the majority of their effectiveness in battle once they joined up with Takeru, but thatâs a complaint for a whole different season.)
On the other hand, Emuâs fight against Doral can barely be called a fight. Heâs getting beaten, badly. Doral barely has to move to dodge Emuâs punches, and when they do connect, he doesnât even flinch, moving with the punch to soften what little damage there would be.
Emu takes numerous blows to the torso, and Iâm pretty sure at one point he just barely avoided a groin shot. He does manage a sweet flip and a roll, but it looks to have been accidental, given he then very quickly gets thrown several meters through the air.
Compare this to his first fight in-show, when heâd just gotten the belt, and had no idea what he was even getting into. In level one, he didnât take a single hit from the Bugster Union, and when he fought Salty directly, he got hit maybe two or three times, but no more than that, and they didnât effect him at all.
Early Emu has no idea what heâs doing in a fight, without actively being Ex-Aid.
Onari and Asuna carry Akari off to the hospital, escaping, while Makoto and Alain manage to literally hold Giril back, telling Takeru to âtake careâ of Hatena.
Takeruâs punches do nothing, aside from make his knuckles hurt, and make Hatena chuckle. CHUCKLE. Not even LAUGH, just a quiet chuckle.
Emu gets grabbed, and Doral is trying to choke him out, Â when freaking Tougo â who is, admittedly, in a bit of a bad way, seeing how heâs rather see-through at the moment â yells at Emu. Heâs a doctor, right?! Then why isnât he saving him?!
You know, never mind that you said it was pointless earlier, or that Emuâs getting his ass kicked and currently is having a bit of trouble breathing, just go ahead and guilt trip him. Thatâs totally a way to make people like you.
Oh, and then Zaizen tells this asshole that nobody can save him, and pulls Tougo into a bugvisor. Because that totally makes sense.
All four riders present â Emu, Takeru, Alain, and Makoto â get hurled down by their respective opponents, Emu internally apologizing to Tougo. Doral advances on EmuâŚ
And is met with a spin-kick to the face.
Kiriya, Hiiro, and Taiga have arrived. Hereâs their basic reactions to the scene:
Kiriya: More research data! Yes! (Also, time to save the Ace, because heâs the only person in this show who has even remotely tried to be a decent person, and was the only one who bothered trying to trust me.)
Taiga: Okay, shows over, freaks. (Why do people keep using Protogashats?! Are they all just stupid?!)
Hiiro: You look pathetic, intern. Also, hereâs the new Legend Rider Gashat, the CEO wanted you to have it, for some reason.
Doralâs all âoh, so you want to fight, do you?â, and he and Giril pull out their gashats. Kiriya gives a sarcastic whistle, before Makoto and Alain shove their way in front, saying that this is their fight. I mean, itâs not, technically, but I get their reasoning. Also, Makoto literally shoved Hiiro to the side, and Hiiro takes a moment to come back to facing front, looking incredibly offended. Kiriya tries to point out to them that theyâre already pretty beat up, and maybe they should take a back seat for a bit, but let if never be said that Makoto and Alain are anything but stubborn.
Giril takes off one way, Makoto and Hiiro in pursuit, while Doral goes the other, with Alain, Taiga, and Kiriya chasing after. Emu is still on the floor, slightly dazed, and presumably very confused.
âââ
Hiiro and Makoto Vs Giril.
Makotoâs fighting style here is very⌠I dunno, like heâs a brawler? I guess? Itâs not really refined, thereâs a sort of brutality there. He uses the mooks momentum a lot, at one point pulling one of those âroll with the grab and use it to do a spin kick while on the mooks backâ tricks.
Hiiro, meanwhile, is quick and efficient, focusing on disabling mooks by going for the torso. Once again, heâs weaponizing CPR, just like when he originally used Doremifa Beat. At one point, he actually just flat out does a chop to the back of one mooks neck, which I find hilarious coming from Hiiro, of all people.
Eventually, Giril transforms, and Makoto hastily follows suit. Heh, suit. Because theyâre transforming heroes. Hiiro, who saw full well that Specter isnât exactly in prime condition, tries to tell him to wait, and heads into level two to join the fight.
âââ
Taiga, Kiriya, and Alain vs Doral.
Taiga and Alainâs fight styles arenât too different, outside of suit. They both favor quick blows that are still slightly showy. The main difference is that Alainâs more willing to rely on both his arms and legs for attacks, while Taigaâs more likely to dodge attacks. Kiriya⌠may as well be street dancing. Like, thereâs a lot of streetdance type moves going on there.
âŚDark Toei, give me the forbidden streetdancer Kiriya lore.
Eventually, Alain starts getting into a slightly more berserker style, Kiriya is getting somehow even flashier, and TaigaâŚ
Taiga stole the sword off of one of the mooks.
âŚSWEET.
Doral transforms, and Alain angrily follows⌠and immediately starts doing worse. Seriously, the Necrom suit is a definite hindrance for Alain. He was great when he was in civilian attire â because he could move. Loose fitting clothes are far better suited for his personal style than the tight, controlled movements he has to use as Necrom. I mean, he really shouldnât keep the scarf on in battle, but it doesnât seem to slow him down, so I guess itâs okay.
Taiga looks a little disappointed that Alain just rushed in there like that, and once again itâs Kiriya who says that heâs getting ahead of himself.
The two of them transform, and Taiga visibly enters level two, doing a sweet flip over a fire projectile before getting into the battle. Kiriya says heâs leveling up, but we donât actually see it, or him.
âââ
Takeru vs Hatena.
This fight is not going nearly so well as the others. Takeru is getting shoved around like a ragdoll by Hatena and his staff, but still struggling back up, despite the copious pain heâs in, because heâs going to save Akari, dangit!
Emuâs still down on the floor, just barely getting around to picking himself back up in order to stop Takeru from advancing.
Zaizen says that all these struggles are useless. Without Ghostâs power, they canât possibly beat Pac-Man, and heâs going to make them fear just how powerless they are!
He then proceeds to fire his bugvisor into the air, a massive swarm of Pac-viruses emerging from it⌠and then they all form into a GIANT PAC-MAN. The version with arms and legs, no less, before it pulls those into itself and becomes the more classic Orb Pac-Man.
Then it sort of⌠shudders, and glows a bit red, and oh look, everyone, Pac-Manâs got a mouth of fangs now!
Wisely, Takeru and Emu realize that being faced with a two-or-three story Pac-Man, who is clearly intent on eating them, is the point where they should be running away.
âââ
Pac-Man chases them outside. They manage to avoid his barreling into them, but also he takes a bite out of a building, so thereâs that. Theyâve both fallen from their dodge.
Takeru pushes himself back to his feet, struggling to walk forward to fight.
Emu tries to hold him back, because itâs too dangerous, heâs too hurt, if he tries to fight like this, he could die-
Takeru shoves him off, saying it doesnât matter if he can still transform or not. Yes, he doesnât want to die, but if he can save Akari, then that is far more important. Heâs going to do this. He has to do this!
Ghostâs powers are intimately linked to Takeruâs emotional state. They always have been, as far back as his first episode. His resolve summons the Ore Eyecon back to him from Dan Kurotoâs desk (because of course he didnât give that to Hiiro to bring back), and the Ghost Driver reappears around Takeruâs waist.
(The, uh, the handle on that thingâs looking a little worse for wear. You guys couldnât have, I dunno, wiped it down or something? Given it a little touch up?)
âHENSHIN!â
:cue fangirl grin:
Takeru gets to fly again! In base form, no less! âŚYou know, outside of the first episode, and his guest previews in Drive, I donât think Takeru actually got to use his levitation in his base mode more than maybe once or twice until after his season. Iâm pretty sure he didnât even get to do it in his own movies, outside of the finishing blow to the giant Ganma from the Ghost & Drive film. I donât recall him levitating at all during Ichighost. If he used that power outside of the final battle in 100 Eyecons, I donât remember it, and I know that time it was in Infinite.
Basically, Iâm in the âLet Takeru Use His Powersâ camp. Also, Iâm thinking that this might be where he basically⌠re-unlocked that for his base form? I dunno, just a thought that I might use in ReUnited, might not. Hard to say.
Anyway, Ghost! Heâs flying around, kicking Angry Emoji Pac-Man while dodging storms of Pac-Viruses. Emu, in the meantime, is having a slight crisis of personal faith. Heâs been getting his ass handed to him all day, even more so than usual, with people berating him left and right for not being good enough at his job â as a doctor or as a Kamen Rider.
Screaming to the sky, he somehow finds his resolve. Pulling out the Kaigan Ghost gashat, a breeze blows his hair back, and he transforms.
âŚOkay, yes, itâs a level ONE form right now, but he still gets to fight in-air with Takeru, both of them with that cool orange glow effect, so itâs worth it!
âââ
At the Next Genome Hideout, Zaizen and Hatena arrive just in time for⌠Uh. What was his name again?  Ah, there we go. Kuruse Soji, also known as the Robol Bugster. For consistencies sake with the rest of his group, I will be referring to him as Robol from here on.
So, those two arrive just in time for Robol to finish the⌠I donât even know what it is, some sort of genome re-mapping design.
Hatena is the one to ask Zaizen âHey, are you sure about this whole âusing yourself as a lab ratâ thing? Youâre putting your life on the line, here.â
But nope, Zaizenâs determined to carry out his plan, and heâs fully intent on becoming a life form âto surpass creation.â
Hatenaâs response is basically a silent âWell, okay then, itâs your funeral,â before raising his reality-warping staff up, and starting what is basically a reprogramming process on Zaizen.
Additionally, Zaizen seems to very quickly have at least a few regrets with regards to his haste, or at least didnât think Hatena was going to just go ahead and start immediately. Having ones genetic structure re-written is not exactly painless.
The thing is⌠I donât know what Zaizen doing this to himself would prove for any sort of proof of concept. We find out later on that his plan is to do this all over, and yeah, most people wonât survive, but the ones who do will be stronger for it. Which is all standard mad scientist stuff. However, heâs already a Bugster. Heâs said as much, so his base makeup isnât the same anymore. He has no way to prove this will actually work on a normal human! I mean, yeah, heâs trying it on Tougo simultaneously, albeit a little differently, but Tougoâs infected with the bugster virus already, so thereâs good odds that the alterations are working with that more than anything else.
Basically, Zaizen, youâre a terrible excuse for a doctor and a scientist, and you should be ashamed of yourself for so many different reasons.
âââ
Back at the Giril fight, Makoto uses all three of his regular Legend Eyecons to try and take her down, and even at one point using Houdiniâs chains as whips! It gets to a point where we have Specter with Nobunaga preparing a finisher, and Giril sending energy slashes at him, only for Brave to use the ice mode of his sword to freeze the attacks in place so that Makoto can shoot through them.
Seriously, Hiiro, why canât you use tactics this cleverly more often in show? Itâd have gone a long way toward making me like at least watching you fight, even though it wouldnât do anything for you as a character. The only times I can think of that were anything like this were the few occasions you used the sword to make an ice path to hold enemies still, your first time using Doremifa beat, and the way you got Taddle Fantasy by basically emulating some of Emuâs tactics, in using the energy items to your advantage.
But I digress. The two Riders switch into Deep Specter and Doremifa Beat to try and finish the fight.
âââ
Brief cut to the Doral fight, where everyone is still in base forms, until Necrom gets knocked down and swaps into Grimm. I am reminded of why I would vastly prefer him to be using an eyecon at all times, because the helmet for Necrom is AWFUL without a cover.
Lazer and Snipe are still in level one and two respectively.
âââ
Back to Giril.
Everyone launches finishers, starting with Specter, who doesnât have much effect, but knocks her back a bit. Brave and Giril launch simultaneous ones, which create a huge chain reaction explosion that results in all three participants getting kicked out of their transformations.
Giril is still okay enough to run away.
Hiiro and Makoto are struggling on the ground. Makoto tries to get up to give chase, but collapses. Hiiro, in not much better state, tries to wake him.
âââ
Back to Doral.
Necrom is using Sanzo for a bit, before getting dropped back down to normal. Okay, so, I may hate the transitional phase of Necrom, but itâs not fair to Alain for him to go the whole series without an upgrade. Itâs even less fair for him to finally get one after the show⌠in the Specter V-Cinema. At which point he gets his ass kicked. By Specter. To make matters even more devastating? The single upgrade Alain gets is called Yujou Burst. FRIENDSHIP BURST. Itâs ugly as all get out, and he only uses it in a single scene, in which, as mentioned earlier, he gets his ass kicked by Makoto. And you canât even really see it in that scene, because it was so dark, which was not helped by Yujou Burst being black and gold.
ALAIN DESERVED BETTER, IS ALL IâM SAYING.
Okay, okay, lost potential complaints aside, the fight scene. Lazer and Snipe both enter level three, and Iâm fairly certain Kiriya curses the day he blackmailed his way into getting a Driver, because he still has to go through the bike form anyway to get to higher levels.
Necrom and Lazer launch their finishers â Necrom with an energy punch projectile, and Lazer with that gloriously massive rain of arrows. This is followed by Snipeâs finisher, which involves a jetpack and LOTS OF BULLETS.
Man, if Jet Combat werenât so hideous, Iâd probably love it.
Doral gets knocked out of his transformation, and runs off. Necrom and Lazer drop theirs willingly, at which point Alain apologizes to Takeru, and drops to the ground, out cold.
Taiga lands. Specifically, TAIGA lands, dropping his transformation MID DESCENT and landing in a three point touchdown. He sneers, saying that Alainâs an idiot who over did it.
Well, at least the three of you came out of your transformations on your own, unlike the actual secondaries of the two seasons, who both got knocked down.
I mean, I really didnât expect to find more evidence that Hiiroâs not nearly as good at this Rider thing as he thinks he is, but it sure looks like I did!
âââ
Okay, over at the FIRST main fight, with Ex-Aid and Ghost versus a literally two story tall Pac-Man, two lads in black and orange land.
Ghost pulls out the Ex-Aid Eyecon, and we get an incredibly chaotic shot of Takeru entering Ex-Aid Damashi, and Ex-Aid leveling up his Ghost form.
Hnnnn I donât like either of these legend rider forms. I think itâs in the eyes. Takeru winds up with Ex-Aidâs eyes on his faceplate, which makes sense, because thatâs what his Legend Rider forms do. He gets their helmetâs appearance on his. Itâs just weird with Ex-Aidâs eyes, is all. Iâll give credit to the jacket for being way better than his one for Drive, though.
The Ex-Aid Legend Rider forms, though⌠are so incredibly cursed. His chestplate takes on the appearance of whateverâs there on the OG rider, which. Okay, fair. I went to go look at his form for Drive, and the tire just Does Not Translate well to 2d. But the real problem is the helmet.
See, Iâm okay with the helmets in Ex-Aid. I donât care about the anime eye aesthetic, Iâm all for it, because they manage to make something this ridiculous look good. Right up until thatâs not whatâs there anymore.
The helmet takes on an appearance similar to a slimmed down version of the legend rider, which I would be fine with⌠if it didnât keep the frames from around Ex-Aidâs eyes. Itâs unsettling, and invariably cuts across the eyes of the helmet itâs imitating, which just makes the whole thing uncomfortable.
And, of course, he still has the duplicate faceplate on his back, which makes it really weird when heâs facing away from the camera in the upcoming scenes, because weâre still getting Ghost looking at us. I donât know why it doesnât bug me nearly this much with Regular Ex-Aid, but this is really unsettling with a different riderâs helmet.
âââ
Okay, okay, sorry, back to the show.
Emuâs gotten Ghostâs ability to levitate, and Takeruâs picked up Ex-Aidâs jumps. So theyâre still able to bounce around Pac-Man, but they arenât both flying anymore.
And then he eats them.
Like, Iâm not even kidding, Pac-Man opens his mouth, they get pulled in, and WHOOPS suddenly theyâre falling toward a suspiciously familiar maze!
Oh, man, I wish I were better at screencapping, but this goes by too fast for me to catch it. When they land? Takeru has a color-burst effect right out of one of Ex-Aidâs special effects. Nice touch!
Oh, and the walls of the maze, along with the dots, are an appropriate size for a two story tall Pac-Man. So, you know, the lads are a bit dwarfed by the scenery.
If you look carefully, you can see that when Pac-Manâs chasing them through the maze, the dots he passes by arenât there anymore! Heâs still actually playing by his own rules! ⌠right up until they jump out of his way when theyâre backed against a wall, and he just plows on through.
(Pac-Man, noooo! You canât do that! Thatâs illegal!)
So they just start trying to slash at Pac-Man amid the rubble from the wall he just broke through â and then he starts shooting out beams of light every which way?
I donât remember that being part of the gameâŚ
While theyâre jumping and dodging, Emuâs still got Ghostâs glowing effects, and Takeru still has Ex-Aidâs impact stars, so thatâs cool. They do that neat cross slash, where one rider goes horizontally around the Giant Kaijin and the other goes vertically⌠and itâs still not the finisher.
Emu, sweet, game-loving Emu, tells Pac-Man that itâll just be a little longer. (Emu, heâs currently trying to KILL YOU. You donât even know if the Regular Pac-Man is IN THERE, for all you know this is just an evil duplicate!)
So, actual finisher time.
Interestingly, the visual flairs when Emu puts the Kaigan Ghost gashat into his finisher slot and pushes the button are all orange. Nice touch. Even nicer is the touches on the emblem that appears behind Takeru when he does his finishers. Usually itâs a glowing orange, or rainbow, in the case of Infinite. But this time itâs pixellated and pink.
(please ignore the awful neon blue lines in the background, those are part of the maze.)
Iâd say that âlasers donât chase people like thatâ and âjumping doesnât let you curve in mid-airâ, but I donât think the laws of physics actually apply to these two in most battle circumstances. Also, theyâre about to kick Pac-Man in the face because thatâs just what weâre doing today, I guess!
They land back out in the real world, where Pac-Man slowly changes back to normal.
(THE BACKS OF THESE SUITS ARE SO CURSED)
Pac-Man dissolves into the air.
Takeru, sweet precious cinnamon roll that he is, is still only thinking of saving Akari.
âI have⌠to save AkariâŚâ
He falls to the ground, out cold.
âââ
Asuna and Onari make it to the hospital, with him carrying the unconicious Akari, to see specks of yellow light streaming down to the infected patients.
Asuna thanks Pac-Man for curing those who were hit by his strain of the Game Disease.
âââ
On a nearby rooftop, music from 2012 plays as a man with rings steps into view.
âââ âââ
Well, that seems like as good a place as any to cut off, narratively speaking! Iâm about halfway through the movie at this point, so this should only take one or two more installments to finish.
I have work the next three nights, so Iâm not going to be able to pick this back up until Saturday, at the earliest. It sucks, because I really, really wanted to watch this movie again, preferably a lot faster than this whole âthree to four hours to get twenty five minutesâ deal, but I guess thatâs just how Iâm watching Ex-Aid, now!
(Disclaimer before anyone gets on my case: Yes, I switched order of those last two segments. Partly itâs to have a better liveblog ending, and partly because thatâs the order they should have been in, dang it! It flows way better to have the Pac-Man Fever subplot end before Haruto first shows up, instead of awkwardly inserting him between the last two related scenes.)
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Operation Beach Day
Itâs the dead of winter where I am, so hereâs my take on a Voltron beach episode.
Canon compliant up to season 6. Â Kind of an au where the crew return to earth, but rather than having to deal with a big mess, they get to relax a bit when they get there.
Enjoy!
âAlmost there, guys,â says Lance, making a final turn onto a side road.
âStill not gonna tell us where weâre going?â says Keith.
âItâs a surprise,â says Lance, âDonât worry, guys, youâll love it.â
All his friends are piled into the old family van with him. Shiroâs in the navigatorâs seat next to him, Keith, Hunk, Pidge, Allura, Coran, Krolia, and Romelle all squished into the back rows. Technically, this van wasnât meant to carry this many people, so Pidge is currently sprawled out over Hunk and Keithâs laps while Lance tries his best to drive carefully and not hit the brakes too hard. Even Kosmo is in the trunk, turning circles and whining nervously at the new sensation of being in a moving car. Every once in a while, Krolia will reach back and give him some reassuring head scratches.
Finally, Lance pulls into a small parking lot, âWeâre here!â
Everyone presses their faces against the windows and stares at the soft white sand and immaculate blue water that awaits them.
âItâs a beach!â says Hunk, his face lighting up, âI havenât been to a beach in forever!â
Lance grins, âI told you youâd love it.â
âUh, Lance?â says Shiro, âI didnât bring a swimsuit.â
âDonât worry, I brought extras for everybody. And sunscreen too, Pidge, donât panic. Now, everybody out! Operation Beach Day begins now!â
âHow the hell is this place not crawling with tourists?â Keith asks as they all climb out of the van.
âItâs a private beach,â says Lance, grabbing bags from the backseat, âMy parents know the owner, heâs always been chill about letting us use it. We just have to not blast obnoxious music or leave a bunch of trash or anything like that.â
There are small changing booths near the parking lot and everyone claims one to get dressed in, some pulling out swimsuits from their own bags and the rest going to Lance for an extra one.
At one point, Lance taps Allura on the shoulder just before she goes into one of the changing booths.
âPrincess, I got something for you. A little gift to celebrate your first time at an Earth beach.â He holds up a pair of black swim bottoms.
âOh, thatâs sweet of you, Lance, but I already have a bathing suit.â Allura holds up the pink two-piece swimsuit she thankfully remembered to pack.
âDonât worry, theyâre not for you to wear. Hey, Shiro!â Lance says, louder this time, âDid you say you needed an extra swimsuit?â
âYeah, I did. Thanks, Lance!â says Shiro, catching the suit as Lance tosses it and stepping into his own changing booth.
Soon, everyone is milling around on the sand, admiring each otherâs swimsuits. Everyone except Shiro, who hasnât left his changing booth yet.
âYou okay in there, Shiro?â says Keith, knocking on the booth door.
âJust having a little trouble getting my suit on,â says Shiro, âLance, I think you got me the wrong size.â
Lance suppresses a laugh, âNo, theyâre supposed to be like that.â
Shiro opens the door, clad only in a black speedo.
âOh!â says Allura, unabashedly admiring her boyfriendâs toned physique.
âEnjoying your gift, Allura?â says Lance, grinning.
Allura grins back, âItâs the most wonderful gift Iâve ever received.â
Finding a place to set out their beach towels and umbrellas isnât too hard considering theyâve got the beach to themselves. Lance is practically bouncing with energy the whole time, eager to get into the water.
âCome on,â he says, waving to the others, âEverybody in!â
Hunk is also ready to burst with excitement, âYes! Iâm so ready for this!â
Pidge crosses her arms, âIâm good, thanks.â
âWrong answer, Pidge,â says Hunk. He scoops her up easily in his arms, âCome on, this way to the water!â
âNo!â Pidge shrieks, suddenly panicked, trying to squirm out of Hunkâs grip.
Hunk stops, surprised, immediately setting Pidge back on her feet. âYou okay?â
Pidge scowls at the ground, cheeks red with embarrassment. I donât know how to swim,â she mumbles, âI donât want to fucking drown.â
âAww, PidgeâŚâ says Hunk, putting an arm around her, âLance and I have both been swimming since we could walk. Weâre not gonna let you drown.â
Lance nods, putting a hand on Pidgeâs shoulder, âWeâll stay in the shallow water the whole time. And hey, maybe we can even teach you how to swim!â
âRight, and if you donât like it, weâll come right back to the beach. Sound good?â says Hunk.
Pidge nods, hesitantly, âYeah, I think thatâd be all right.â
âSweet!â says Lance, âKeith, you coming in too?â
âSure,â says Keith. He turns to Krolia, âMom, do you want to swim with us?â
Krolia shoots him a look over the tops of her sunglasses, âAnd get my fur wet? No thank you. Besides,â she holds up a paperback book, âIâve got some Earth literature to entertain me.â
The book has the title Ranch of Romance written on the cover in a flouncy font and features a rugged man in a cowboy outfit, his flannel shirt almost completely unbuttoned, holding a swooning woman in his arms, her dress dangerously close to slipping off.
Keithâs entire face goes red, âUhâŚokay, Mom. Coran, what about you?â
Coranâs currently dressed in an old-fashioned striped one-piece bathing suit and holding a sand pail, âOh, I think Iâll pass, my boy. Iâve been meaning to try my hand at building one of those sand castles you Earthlings sometimes talk about. I figure if my grandfather can build the Castle of Lions, I can surely build its miniature in sand form.â
âSuit yourself,â says Lance, âCome on, Keith, letâs see if Hunk and Pidge want to have a chicken fight.â
Over the course of the next hour or so, Lance and Hunk attempt to teach Pidge how to swim, first getting her used to having her face in the water, then trying to teach her how to float. Itâs not easy, her skinny frame making it hard to stay buoyant, but eventually, she can manage a doggy paddle with relative ease.
Once sheâs comfortable in the water, Keith suggests pairing off for a chicken fight. They start out Arms vs. Legs, with Pidge on Keithâs shoulders and Lance on Hunkâs. Team Arms wins, but only because Hunk stepped on a shell and lost his balance (at least, thatâs what Team Legs insists happened). Then, they switch to Left Side vs. Right Side. Right Side wins that time, though itâs a hollow victory for Lance, since Keithâs strategy seems to be to use him as an actual lance. Eventually, the game devolves into a four-way splash fight.
âHey, guys,â Shiro calls from the shore, causing the four paladins to cease splashing for a moment, âAnyone up for a volleyball game? I think I found a net.â
Once the others have waded back out of the water and toweled off, they all gather around the volleyball net Shiro found, joined by Allura and Romelle, who have been enjoying some sunbathing. Romelle, especially, is looking quite a bit pinker than normal and Lance makes a mental note to remind her to reapply her sunscreen later.
âSo,â says Shiro, âHow should we divide into teams?â
âBoys vs. girls!â Lance says quickly.
âNo fair!â Pidge protests, âThereâs more of you!â
âNo duh, Pigeon, why do you think I suggested it?â
âWe should have one of you join our team then,â Romelle points out.
âYeah! We deserve a fourth honorary girl on the team!â says Pidge.
âFine, fine,â says Lance, âIâll let you have it. Pick an honorary girl.â
Pidgeâs grin is downright devious, âWe want Shiro.â
âPick another honorary girl.â
âYou never said any of your teammates were off-limits,â says Allura, as precise as any lawyer, âIf you didnât want us to choose Shiro, you should have said something before hand.â
Lance crosses his arms, âWell, maybe Shiro doesnât want to be an honorary girl.â
But Shiro merely shrugs, good-naturedly, âI donât mind, really.â He ducks under the net and joins the girlsâ side.
âOh, no,â Keith groans, âWeâre so screwed now. Lance, youâve screwed us.â
âWhy? What do you mean?â
âShiroâs a monster at volleyball. Heâs gonna wipe the floor with all of us.â
Shiro rolls his eyes and grins, âStop trying to scare them, Keith.â
Keith turns and glares at him, âShiro remember when they had that volleyball tournament at the Garrison and you spiked the ball directly at some guyâs head and he went to the hospital for a concussion? âCause I do. Itâs actually a very vivid memory for me.â
Shiro shrugs, âWhatâs a game without a little risk? Now are you gonna serve or what?â
In the end, the girlsâ team wins soundly. Pidge and Romelle might not be athletically inclined, but Shiro and Allura very much are, and competitive to boot. Keith puts forth a valiant effort, but is no match for both of them in the end. Lance and Hunk spend most of the game trying their best to not die.
Once the boysâ team is done licking their wounds, everyone decides to swim a bit more to cool off. Even Pidge agrees to it, though she spends most of the time hanging onto Hunkâs shoulders while he does the actual swimming.
Meanwhile, Keith finds a piece of driftwood and he and Lance decide to play fetch with Kosmo. Kosmo seems more interested in splashing around in the ocean than actually chasing the stick, so itâs mostly Lance and Keith who have to retrieve it when it lands further out and begins to float away.
At one point, Lance throws the stick a little too hard and it lands in the deeper water where the waves are breaking.
âDang it,â says Lance, knowing thereâs no way in hell heâll convince Kosmo to swim all the way out there, âIâll get it.â
âNo, I got it,â says Keith, âIâm closer.â
Lance watches him wade out into the water, almost slipping at one point as he hits a small drop off. Eventually, itâs just his head and shoulders visible above the water. He reaches the stick and holds it up in the air, waving it at Lance, completely oblivious to the huge wave about to break behind him.
âKeith!â Lance yells, âKeith, thereâsââ
Before he can even finish his sentence, the wave hits Keith, knocking him over. It must flip him completely upside down because at one point, Lance can see his feet briefly stick out of the water. Just when Lance thinks heâll have to go rescue his dumb boyfriend from drowning, Keith surfaces again, a shell-shocked look on his face.
âYou know what,â Lance calls over to him, âI think thatâs enough fetch for one day. Why donât you come back to shore?â
âI canât,â Keith calls back.
âWhat do you mean you canât?â
âI canât. Iâm naked now.â
âWhat?!â
âThe wave took my stupid trunks off!â
âOh my god,â Lance has to bite his hand to keep from laughing too hard, âHang on, Iâll get you an extra suit. Just stay there. okay?â
âLike I have a choice!â
Lance sprints back to the van and digs through his bags to retrieve an extra pair of red swim trunks. As he runs back to the shore, the others seem to have noticed Keithâs predicament.
âKeith, if you wanted to go skinny dipping so bad, you should have said something,â Shiro calls, between bouts of laughter.
âDonât let the sharks bite you!â says Pidge, âYou wonât be able to sit for weeks!â
Keith flips the bird in their direction.
âDonât worry, Keith, Iâll save you!â says Lance as he bounds into the water, holding the swimsuit over his head. Kosmo, wound up from all the excitement, follows him into the water, barking and teleporting at random.
âOh, sure,â Lance says to him, ânow you want to chase stuff.â
He reaches Keith and tosses the suit to him and Keith ducks underwater briefly so he can shimmy into them. Once heâs decent again, Lance scoops him up in his arms and carries him back to shore.
âIs the princess carry really necessary?â says Keith, âIâm not injured or anything.â
âKeith, buddy, youâve gotta let me exercise my god-given right to be as dramatic as possible. Besides, am I not allowed to cradle my own boyfriend?â
Keith snorts, âHow the tables have turned.â
Kroliaâs waiting for them on the shore with towels and a lecture for Keith to be more careful. As the sun begins to set, the others wade back to the beach and get dry. Hunk and Shiro find an old fire pit and build a bonfire. Lance, fully prepared for the possibility of any beach activity, brought plenty of food to be roasted. The group enjoys a delicious meal of hot dogs and sâmores. Soon, they are all full and beginning to feel drowsy, the especially satisfying kind of tired that comes from running around outside all day. It takes all the energy they have left to pack up their stuff and get it back into the car. At one point, Pidge actually falls asleep on her feet and has to be carried to the van by Shiro.
Eventually, Lance starts the car and makes the drive back to where theyâre staying, this time with Krolia in the navigatorâs seat, since sheâs the only one among the group not in imminent danger of falling asleep. Lance can hear soft snoring coming from the backseat.
Thereâs something deeply satisfying, he thinks, about coming back to his old home and sharing it with his new family.
#voltron#vld#klance#shallura#lance#keith#allura#shiro#pidge#hunk#the gang's all here#my posts#my fanfictions
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âDonât you have to be a dick somewhere else?â âNot until four.â
pairing: stozier (richie x stan)
prompt by: @finn-got-tall
requested: yes
summary: richie annoying stan, as usual
warnings: none, besides a big trashmouth
not my gif
a/n: stan and richie are both aged up in this, hope thatâs okay!
âRichie come on, weâre gonna be late. You know how my parents are and how much they hate you, do you really think itâd be a good idea to give them another reason?â
Stan was pacing back and forth in the kitchen, waiting not-so-patiently for his super slow and super obnoxious boyfriend, Richie Tozier.
Today, Stan and Richie were supposed to go to the Uris household and have dinner with Stanâs parents, which doesnât happen often. What scared Stan the most is that he and Richie were invited by his parents, which doesnât happen at all considering they arenât the biggest fans of Richie.
âStop shitting yourself, Uris, itâs 2:30. We donât even have to be at your parentsâ house until 4 oâclock, why are you losing your goddamn mind?â Richie yelled throughout the house.
Richie was currently stepping out of the shower which, according to Stan, shouldâve been done hours ago.
Stan sighed loudly, climbed up the stairs, and banged on the bathroom door. Richie banged back on the other side and laughed.
âListen, you little shit, if you donât hurry the fuck up Iâm going without you and telling them we broke up this morni-â
Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal a soaking wet Richie with a towel hanging loosely around his torso.
âDonât you fucking dare finish that sentence,â Richie said, poking Stan in the chest, splashing a small spot of water on his shirt.
âRichie are you fucking kidding me, I JUST ironed this shirt,â Stan yelped, frantically making his way back to their shared room.
Richie took his place back in front of the bathroom mirror and began to style his hair, smirking while listening to Stan ramble on.
âI swear I canât have anything nice in this fucking house, if itâs not you ruining my clothes itâs you making a mess in the bathroom, or you leaving cereal on the counter in the mornings, or you taking my hair gel and leaving the cap open, WHO LEAVES THE CAP OPEN,â Stan complained.
Richie let out a loud laugh and walked into their bedroom to find something to wear, just as Stan was changing from his previous shirt into a purple button down, causing Richie to watch the boy closely.
âLook, Stanley, Stan the Man, Stanarooni,â Richie hummed. âItâs a small speck of water. Youâre acting as if I rubbed Eddieâs momâs underwear on your shirt or some shit. As far as the rest of those go, you love when I make messes because it gives you something to do throughout the day.â
Stan tilted his head to the side in confusion. âWhat are you saying? That I ENJOY your messes?â
ââCourse ya do, honey, because if I didnât create said messes, youâd have absolutely nothing to clean around here. Then youâd be bored out of your mind for HOURS and HOURS. Hell, if I didnât create messes youâd probably be in the woods so often, watching birds, that people would mistake you for Sasquatch!â Richie threw his hands in the air dramatically.
Stan blinked. âYou know what, whatever, just put some clothes on and stop gawking at me while I change, Iâm not in the mood. Itâs already three oâclo- THREE OâCLOCK?â Stan screamed, checking his watch.
âFUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK, RICHIE PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON, BRUSH YOUR TEETH, AND PUT ON SOME FUCKING DEODORANT WE HAVE TO GO NOW,â Stan panicked, frantically moving across the room.
Stan was moving so quickly that Richie started to get dizzy. Acting on impulse, Richie stuck his foot out in front of Stan, and Stan was sent flying onto the floor.
âTHE FUCK DID YOU JUST- DID YOU JUST TRIP ME?â Stan yelled, looking up in disbelief. By this point, Richie was doubled over in laughter.
âSorry babe, my foot must have a mind of its own,â Richie explained, in between laughs. Richie got dressed and threw on his usual Hawaiian shirt, much to Stanâs disagreement.
âI canât believe I waited that long for you to wear the exact same thing you do every single day,â Stan sighed, shaking his head and sitting on the bed.
âWhy did your parents invite us to dinner if they donât fucking like me anyways,â Richie mumbled, shoving his foot into a worn out pair of shoes.
âI donât know, but Iâm not letting you walk out of the house like that. You have much better things to wear, so change,â Stan said, rummaging through Richieâs clothes and throwing a dress shirt he bought Richie on his birthday at the pouting boy.
âNo, fuck you,â Richie said, crossing his arms and turning away from Stan.
âYouâve gotta be fucking kidding me,â Stan muttered. âStop acting like a 5 year old and change, dipshit.â
A smile played on Richieâs lips, highly amused by the entire situation. âI donât see why I should change my outfit to impress your parents. They hate me either way, what I wear doesnât matter and I sure as hell donât have any-fucking-thing to prove to them,â Richie explained, now looking right at Stan.
âCould you stop being an ass and just change? For me?â Stan said, losing hope.
Richie thought about it for a second. More than a second, actually. So long that Stan sat on the bed and waited for him to respond. Stan was desperate at this point and decided to try one last thing.
âDonât give me the fucking puppy dog face, asshole. Iâm wearing what I want,â Richie said, looking away from Stan.
âPlease?â
âNo.â
âPlease?â
âI fucking said n-â
âPLEASE!â
âFUCKING FINE, IâLL CHANGE, JUST STOP GIVING ME THAT LOOK, YOU ALWAYS DO THIS TO ME,â Richie said, grabbing the shirt and changing.
âIâll be downstairs waiting,â Stan called, smirking as he walked down the stairs.
A few minutes passed and Richie walked downstairs to meet Stan, smiling mischievously.
âYou ready to go?â Stan asked, opening the door.
âOf course Iď¸ am, Stan the man,â Richie mused, hopping out the front door, but not before placing a big, wet kiss on Stanâs cheek.
Stan wiped his cheek with a handkerchief and placed it back in his shirt pocket. Following Richie out to the car, he noticed one small thing.
âAre you fucking kidding me, Richie? You didnât change your shoes!â
âI know, but donât you like them?â Richie said, smiling cheekily and tapping his feet together.
âTHEYâRE LIGHT-UP SKECHERS!â Stan exclaimed.
Richie laughed as Stan had a fit on their front lawn.
Stan leaned against the car, glowering at Richie. âDonât you have to be a dick somewhere else?â
âNot until four.â
#stozier#stan uris#stanley uris#richie tozier#richie#it imagine#it movie#it movie imagine#losers club#finn wolfhard#beverly marsh#mike hanlon#ben hanscom#bill denbrough#eddie kaspbrak#drabble#prompt#request#imagine#imagines#it cast#it x reader#pennywise#it#richie tozier imagine#stan uris imagine#stozier imagine#au#headcanon#hc
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Three Is Good Company [m]
Genre : Smut / ThreesomeÂ
Summary : In a series of perfectly placed moments you witnessed something you probably werenât supposed to see.
First of all, you didnât mean to see it. It just happened. Literally. You were at the wrong place at the wrong timeâŚmaybe right place but still, you werenât supposed to see it. But then why was his door open!?
Shaking your self sane, you wandered into the shared kitchen. You needed to do something, anything to distract yourself. Quick! You opened the fridge and took a loaf of bread out. Youâd make a sandwich and pretend everything was peachy. So what youâd seen your flatmates kissing? You thought yourself as you slathered far too much mayonnaise on the bread. Shit.
You flung the soiled bread into the bin. You shoved the loaf back into the fridge and settled on pouring yourself a glass of water.Â
Kissing was normal, super normal. Itâs not the action that had you so wellâŚflustered; it was you. Youâd stood there for a considerable amount of time, watching with bulging eyes and the faintest tinge of heat on your ears. If you had to be honest, it was hot. Really hot. Â
Your hands coiled in horror as you recalled the kiss. Their messy hair, reddened cheeks. Why the hell was the memory so clear!? You needed to erase it from your mind. One should really not think of their friends in such comprimising positions. Sighing, you grabbed at your jacket and car keys. Youâd take a quick drive around town, maybe pick up some groceries and then youâd come home, mind clear and ready to take on the world.
You opened the apartment to the smell of garlic and onions. Chanyeol had cooked, and probably spaghetti judging by smell. You fixed a smile on your face as you slipped your shoes off. Youâd go in there, enjoy dinner, have fun, talk then straight to bed.
âOh spaghetti!â You exclaimed, your voice was too cheery for liking but what could you do now?
Chanyeol looked up. âHey you. Call me crazy but did come home earlier on?â He said as he poured the sauce onto the plated pasta.
You blinked at him, contemplating what your answer should be. If you said yes would he know youâd seen him and Sehun? Not taking any chances, you shook your head. As far as he was concerned, you were never there.
âNah, I just came back from shopping.â You said.
He furrowed his brows, âReally? I swear I heard someone come in.â
âOh, wow. You sure it wasnât uh... Sehun?â You said, dropping the groceries onto the counter. Â
He shook his head. âNo, he was home.â He paused for a moment.â Maybe I was hearing things.â
You nodded, pulling out a chair on the dining table. âThatâs probably the case.â
âIâm going crazy, anyways, eat up,â he said, placing a hot plate of spaghetti in front of you. âWeâre gonna watch a movie later, you joining?â
You picked up your fork. âSure. What movie did he choose?â
Speaking of the man, youâd noticed that he was nowhere to be found. Maybe heâd left the apartment earlier. Oh wait, youâd seen his car in parking lot.
âSome thriller, I donât know the plot but Iâd told him to get a comedy,â chanyeol said, pulling up to the chair beside you. âIt better be good.â
âAre you guys talking about me?â You heard the voice say. âAgain.â
And there he was the man of the hour. He was dressed in that casual outfit he loved to wear after a shower, sweat pants and a random shirt, not to mention the still wet hair.
âYeah, weâre talking about your lack of ability to listen,â Chanyeol said. âJust sit down and eat.â
âThereâs always room for better choices,â sehun said, sitting in front of him.
You kept your eyes on your plate, putting far too much focus into the spaghetti. You couldnât bear looking up right now, especially considering you were sandwiched between both of them. If it wasnât for the âincidentâ this wouldâve been fine, normal even but alas it wasnât so.
You ate your meal in relative silence, only adding the odd 'hmmâ and 'yeahâ when the conversation called for it. Â You were now sat on the sofa, feet curled into the side of the loveseat and Sehun sat across you.
âYouâve been quiet today,â Sehun said, breaking the near perfect silence that had come over the both of you.
You turned to him, ânothing wrong with a bit of quiet right?â
He nodded, but still his eyes pierced into yours as though he knew you were hiding something. Thatâs one thing you didnât like about Sehun, heâd always have the knack of making you twist uncomfortably and pour out your secrets and what not.Â
âHmmâŚsure, I guess you could say that. Did something happen at work?â
You shook your head. âI wasnât at work today.â
He mulled over your words, inherently making you shift. God, why did this feel like an interrogation!?
âSo, you were home earlier, I swear heard keys.â
Your eyes widened and you quickly shook your head. âNo, I wasnât. I was out⌠shopping.â
He stared at you, unblinking. âYou shopped for that long? Wow.â
You stayed silent as tension increased by tenfold. Heâd caught you out. It was like those nature videos were a cheetah chased down a impala. You being the impala. You could see the faintest upturn on the sides of his lip, he knew it. In the most subtle yet obnoxious power move yet, Sehun turned to the DVD case and begun setting up the TV.
âYou couldâve just asked to join.â
Chanyeol came in then, face wide with a smile as he sat down on the sofa. Â Truly naive to the current situation.
âSehun, this film better not be scary,â Chanyeol said. âNext time Iâm picking the movie.â
âDonât worry, itâs super tame.â He said. âJust be quiet and enjoy the movie.â
The movie watching went without a hitch and the moment it ended you scrambled to your room with the excuse of being tired. You couldnât deal with Sehunâs piercing gaze and Chanyeolâs absent minded self any longer. It was far too much for one person.
You laid on your bed, pinching yourself the moment your mind began to wander to the 'incidentâ. Â You sighed into your pillow, angry with yourself and all the little instances and events that led you to be in the hallway that afternoon.
âMorning,â
You turned off the running water and wiped the excess foam from your face. âMorning. Slept well?â You asked as you patted your face dry.
âSure,â Chanyeol said, suppressing a yawn. âNeighbors thought it be a good time to start an argument but yeah, it was good.â
You squeezed a smudge of moisturizer into your hand and smeared it all over your face. âYou going into work today?â
He shook his head,â I wouldnât be if I woke up this late.â
âItâs barely late besides- ah waitâŚyouâve got something on your neck,â you said, having noticed a purplish blotch of colour his skin.
He stepped into the bathroom, immediately turning to look at his neck in the mirror. âOhâŚthat!â he slapped a hand over the mark, face turning pink as he laughed nervously. âThatâs nothing.â
âIs it from Sehun-â the words came faster than you could stop them. God, had all rationale up and left this morning!?
He stared at you wide eyed. âHuh?â
âHuh?â
âYou just said-â
You gathered your towel and made a dash to the door, but had a hand barring the doorway to stop you. âWhat do you mean sehun?â He asked, towering over you. Like a large tree. Youâd never found Chanyeol scary but something about him today struck a twinge of fear in you.
âUm, I-I saw-,â great, now you couldnât get your words out. You took a deep breath. âOK, I saw you and Sehun kissing.â Â
He cocked his head to the side. âWhy were you watching?â
You blinked twice. Was there really an answer for such a question. No matter how you answered you still looked like the slimiest individual ever.
âWho said I was watching?â You countered.
He shrugged. âHow would you know we were kissing if you werenât watching?â
âIt was a quick glance.â
âThen why lie about not being there? I knew I heard you.â
You refused to be cornered. âWhy should I tell you I was there?â
âStill odd to lie about a simple glance.â He said. âAlas, Â Â keep fooling yourself.â He pulled his arm away.
âIâm not fooling myself,â you muttered under your breath. You had one foot out the doorway, but then you stopped. âSo are you and Sehun a thing now?â
He tipped his head back and let out a howl of a laugh. âGod forbid! It was just fun.â
Fun?
âOh alrightâŚfun, so just casual?â You said.
He nodded. âUh huh.â He stopped and threw you a smirk. âYou know, if you want you can join us.â
Join them? As in a threesome? Your face flushed at the thought. The mere thought of having both Chanyeol and Sehunâs eyes on your bare body had your body had your nerves alight. Youâd seen the girls theyâd brought home, basically models they were.âNo thanks.â
âSuit yourself, but the offers still up.â
You snorted and walked back to your room, leaving Chanyeol to do what the hell ever in the bathroom.
You wandered into the dining room after following the smell of breakfast being made. Sehun was behind the stove, making scrambled eggs. Chanyeol was sat at the island, ⌠through cereal whilst scrolling on his phone. You couldnât help but not notice the silence that overcame the room when you walked in. Chanyeol looked up from his phone and Sehun paused.
âWhat?â You said, opening the fridge and getting a bottle of orange juice.
âNothing,â Sehun said, turning back to the stove. âDo you want some eggs?â
âYes please,â you said.
You poured the juice into the glass and took a small swing before sitting down onto the island.
âAre you still up for it?â Chanyeol asked.
âAre you sure?â Chanyeol asked, pulling away from the kiss. You guessed heâd finally noticed how much your leg was shaking.
You nodded, willing your leg to calm the hell down. âIâm just nervous, Iâve never really done this before. But yes. â
Sehunâs hand was still there under your shirt, snaking itâs way up your torso. âWe can stop if you want to.â
âI donât want to,â You confessed, immediately feeling your skin flush after youâd said so. âI want this.â
âWhatever you say Princess,â Chanyeol said. His words lined with a grin that did far too much to your body, Â more than he probably ever hoped.
Sehun slipped your shirt off of you with ease only an expert could have. Youâd often found yourself thinking about Sehunâs hands, they were very dainty, long and lined with thick veins. They were made touch other people. He made quick work of your bra as Chanyeol plastered his lips along your jaw, sucking and biting the skin as he moved down your neck.
Everything seemed to be moving fast and you certainly couldnât keep up. Chanyeol was doing god knows what to your neck, but it whatever it was, Â it had your body buzzing silently. Meanwhile, Sehunâs hands were all over breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers earning him a small mewl whenever he pinched too hard.
You felt two hands pushing you down till your head landed on the pillow. Two ysets of eyes stared down at you, feeling yourself growing  self-conscious, you attempted to place your hands over your body. As though you werenât already bare.
âWhat are you doing?â Sehun asked, swiftly moving your hand to the side. Â "Donât get shy now, besides, you look amazing.â
You said a small thanks to which Chanyeol laughed. "I donât know why youâd be embarrased, youâre beautifulâŚtoo fucking beautful.â
Youâre certain if theyâd said anymore you wouldâve exploded right there on this bed. If this was somewhat of a game between the both of them, youâre certain it was already game over for you.
Chanyeolâs head bobbed down and placed a kiss at the centre of your chest, whilst Sehunâs finger played with the lace trimming of your underwear. You could feel your stomach dipping on instinct as you felt his hand begining to travel under the fabric. As you felt Sehunâs hand cupping your mound, Chanyeolâs index finger trailed across your bottom lip, seeking entrance betweem your lips.
Your muscles tensed as you felt the pads of Sehunâs fingers making delicate circles around your clit, collecting the wetness as he worked. âHeyâŚrelax,â you heard Chanyeol say from beside you.
âIâm relaxed,â you said, taking a deep breath and trying to loosen your limbs up.
âNot enough,â he said, his index finger sliding into to your hot wet mouth.
Your tongue tentatively slid across the digit, whilst your eyes looked into his for confirmation. Were you even doing this right? You wondered as you watched a small smile grace his face.
âPrincessâŚdonât stare at a guy like that,â he said, momentarily closing his eyes and sighing. âYou know what? Youâre dirtier than I thought.â
A second finger proded your lips and so you welcomed it in wholeheardtly. You watched as his eyes grew darker the moment youâd begun sucking on them.
âChanyeolâŚYou talk too much,â Sehun said. The small ministrations on your clit were beginning build up to a gentle heat.  "Let her enjoy the moment.â
You whined against Chanyeolâs fingers as you felt Sehunâs hand moving out from your underwear. He then hooked fingers on the sides of your underwear and procedded to pull the material down from your legs to a random spot in the room. You felt the bed dip as he moved and got off the bed, but you could only see so much considesing that Chanyeol was blocking most of your view.
"Open your legs wider,â You heard Sehun say, and of course you obeyed his request.
The first touch of his lips on your inner thigh had your legs instinctvely moving close but his firm hand was there to push them back. The next kiss you were barely prepared for but still you knew it was coming. You could now feel his warm breath along your pussy. If only you could tell him to hurry up, but your mouth was currently occupied.
As though both men were mind readers, Chanyeol slipped his fingers out of your mouth and you felt the ever so sinful touch of Sehunâs tongue. Youâre certain if this were movie that something classical had to playing in the backgroundâŚprobably Canon In D.
You gulp as you feel Sehunâs needy tongue moving against your pussy, lapping eup your wetness as your clit throbbed against the muscle. This truly was heaven, you thought, as a series of moans spilled from your lips. âSehunâs doing a great job, isnât he?â You jumped, you hadnât noticed Chanyeolâs mouth was so close to your ear.
âYes, he is,â your voice was becoming all too breathless.
You could feel the heat in your stomach begining to grow, you were so close but then, Sehun moved his mouth away. You now laid on your elbows, staring at him through narrowed eyes. Of course heâd do this. He was now looking at you with the world most smug look on his face.
âI couldnât let you come that early,â he said.
He moved up from the floor and made his way back onto the bed. âChanyeol, time to swap.â he said, patting the other guy on the shoulder.
âWait, youâve got something on your lip,â Chanyeol said, handing coming to cradle Sehunâs jaw.
âReallyâŚif you-â
I guess you could say this is the part when the violions and the cellos came in. You could only stare in pure amazement and awe as you watched Chanyeolâs lips moving almost maddeningly slow against Sehunâs own. You couldnât do much to squash the flourishing flame in your stomach as you watched them pull apart.
Chanyeol looked down at you, âYou taste a lot sweeter than I imagined.â
Sehun slapped him on the arm, âStop it, she looks like sheâs about to combust.â
You swallowed hard. You certainly were about to combust.
With a chuckle from both, Chanyeol moved off the bed. âIâm gonna need you to go on all fours, Princess.â
Once you were balanced on your hands and knees, Â you could hear the sound of Chanyeol pulling his shorts down and the snap of boxers too. Sehun was already in his boxers, for a man who loved to test others patience, he was never one to wait. He came to sit at the head of the bed.
One of your hands came to trail along his leg, feeling the stiff muscle underneath. You were deadset on giving him a taste of his own medicene, but his strong grip was already around your wrist. âI donât think so young lady,â Â he said.
You pouted at him, âYouâre mean.â
âYeah Sehun, youâre mean,â Chanyeol repeated from behind you, enunciating the word with small slap on your ass. âSo mean.â
Smiling to yourself, you began to palm the prominent hump in his boxers. You felt sense as pride as you felt his cock twitch under your touch. It felt nice to know you had such an effect on him. The head of his cock was strained against the fabric, just dying to be let out.
You felt one of Chanyeolâs thumbs enter you with ease. He moved the digit around, coating it in your jucies before slipping it out and replacing it with two of your fingers. You moved against his hand, it was innate movement.
As his fingers moved in and of you, you began to pull down Sehunâs boxers and let his cock spring out, itâs flushed head was right infront of your face. You wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, squeezing the his girth as you placed small kisses on his head. He released a deep groan that nearly sent you off the edge. You could certainly get used to doing this.
You had to resist the urge to whine the moment Chanyeol slipped his fingers out, youâd already done it far too much and youâre certain their egoâs had been stroked far too much. You heard the sound of a plastic wrapper being opened.
âAlrightâŚyou ready?â He asked, stroking your hips.
You hummed in against Sehunâs cock, earning you a sharp intake of breath from him.
âAhh- fuck,â Rasped out as you felt Chanyeolâs cock sliding inside you. His width pushed up against you walls as you wriggled closer to him.
You could tell you werenât the only one affected, Chanyeol had dug half moons into your hips at the moment. Youâd surely be reminded of this moment the next morning.
âPlease move,â you said, after catching your breath.
You tightened your grip on Sehunâs cock and all he could do was squirm under your hand. You wrapped your lips around his length, taking what you could of him into your mouth. Meanwhile, Chanyeol began to move against you, slowly building up moment as he buried himself into you. You moaned against Sehunâs length.
You lifted your head up, catching some much needed air before going back to work on Sehun. His hands had released the duvet and were now nestled in your hair, pushing and pulling you up and down him.
Somehow, youâd never imagined Chanyeol as the type to move rough, but your expectants were certainly trashed as you felt him slam into you. The sounds of skin on skin began to fill the room, but you didnât have it in you to be embarrased anymore. You were loving it.
Sehun pulled you up and you ran your tongue along the underside of cock, feeling the thick vein that spanned the length of him underneath your tongue. âKeep d-doing that,â he said, capturing his lip between his teeth. You could feel it, he was ready to come undone.
One of Chanyeol moved under you and came to rest on your clit. He rubbed the small bud in almost perfect synchrony with his thrusts. You muttered a slew of explatives as you started to rock against his hand. Now you were close too.
âArgh..pleaseâŚjust,â Sehunâs words came in small fractures as his hips began to thrust upwards. You wrapped your lips around his head, sucking the tip as you stared up at him through hooded eyes. That was really all it took. He emptied himself in your mouth, eyes screwed shut and muscles bound tight.  You swallowed quick.
You could feel your own orgasm quickly rearing itâs head. Chanyeolâs hand never relented in its torture as you shook and groaned against him. You whined as you rode out your orgasm and his hand never left your centre. You writhed as you felt his own thrust loosing moment and becoming deep and hard.
âFuckâŚPrincess,â he said as his cock twitched to a halt.
You sprang up, eyes wide and scanning the room. âHey, you slept through the whole movie,â Chanyeol said from beside you. âNext time Iâm picking the film.â
You looked around the room - wait, you were in Sehunâs room. You turned to Chanyeol. He stared back, chin jutting before he broke out in a loud laugh. âI got you didnât I?â
âHuh what-â
âShh.. You feel asleep. Come on, you need to shower. Sehunâs making something to eat.â
A/N
Lord! This fic is fucking 3.5k words (3.5k words of pure sin). I know youâre thinking this isnât that big but I, a lazy writer, tends to keep my fics under the 2k belt. This is probaby the second longest fic I ever wrote for my blog.
Oh and a big Chanhun thanks to everyone that tried to help me with a plot. This plot was an old one that Iâd kept in the back of my mind but suddenly it popped but still, thank you babes!
#sehun smut#chanyeol smut#chanhun#exo smut#exo scenario#chanyeol scenario#sehun scenario#kpop smut#chanhun smut#chanyeol one shot#sehun one shot#sehun#chanyeol#exowritersnet
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