#the shine on her eye that goes outside the eye is a very fun effect to draw

[oblivious-aro]

Awkward Mirabelle (hair done in pen) vs. Excited Mirabelle (hair done in marker). I recommend marker. It's sooo much quicker and easier.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Gummm gummmm, I hope you had a fine day.

I have a request for you for Sanji from One piece.

He’s falling for a girl for the very first time and she’s falling for him too but both are a little too shy and so sanji takes his heart and goes all in for her to show her his feelings for her and that he’s not only shyly loving her because he’s loving her more than deep, that he really strip himself Butt naked to showing it to her and the whole world what she’s meaning to him.

Sanji - Shy heart

warning : fluff, comfort, true love

masterlist

Info : Gummm Gummm I have a good day thank you anon hope you too. Thanks for this cute request it was really sweet to write it and have fun reading it. Everyon else too :)

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

It was for the blond the first time that he had lost his heart to a person. His flirtations were until now directed to actually every woman. He had a heart for all women after he had learned that one had to protect and love them.

It was simply so and he would not break his precept. Since then his heart belonged to every woman. They all had earned in his eye love and affection and especially respect.

Something that Sanji the Gentleman gave them or at least wanted to give them. But since he started with Luffy and the Straw Hat Pirates and they stopped on the small summer island, he had seen them.

Had seen his angel, his heart. It was busy actually to buy new food he had clearly underestimated the hunger of his captain. But when he saw them, the tomatoes flew out of his hand.

The sun seemed to shine on them divinely and the wind that blew through their hair seemed to burn in the blond cook's head like a constantly moving photo. The pretty light summer dress that clung to her body and her legs ended in high heels.

Rounded by the light jewelry and the straw sun hat that reminded him of his captain. ,,Oh please let me help you," her hurried voice snapped him out of his thoughts as the two knelt down to the tomatoes at the same time. It was a normal encounter from the outside, but for the two of them it was something completely different.

For Sanji, for the first time, there seemed to be the one woman he wanted to give all his love to. For his opposite it was also the true only love. When she had seen him well dressed, the blond almost golden hair, the cute arched eyebrow before she had taken her chance and helped him now.

Jumped over her shadow of her fast beating heart and tried to hide her nervousness. They each reached for the red vegetable until she suddenly felt his hand reach for hers.

They had both reached for the same tomato. It tingled on her hand, it tingled in her stomach. her whole body seemed to tingle. ,,Thank you...my-my angel...I am Sanji," the blonde said slowly as he had to think of his words for the first time because she had taken his breath away.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as his voice called her that. The nickname so small and yet had so much effect. Straightening up again, he took his hand from hers almost as if he had burned himself. He could not stand the physical contact.

As if the love really burned them both. ,,Angel I-I mean I'm Y/n hello," she replied hastily, staggering to face him, which caused her to quickly take her hemp down again. Oh, by the One Piece, get a grip, she said in near panic, smiling nervously at him.

She felt her heart fly out of her chest at any moment. But the blond chef felt the same way, his heart seemed to burst out of his chest as well. They never seemed so close and yet. But it was love at first sight between them.

She saw how the blond wanted to say something, his mouth opened and she hoped to hear his pleasant voice again. When a bright voice of a black-haired boy with a straw hat could be heard and seen coming towards the two.

Luffy truly had a talent for breaking situations that simply needed a little more time. But when the blonde turned to his captain, Y/n could no longer stand the sitaution.

In an instant she fled the scene, heart pounding, hoping he would find it. While she was running for her life, hoping and wishing at the same time that he would chase her and not chase her.

She didn't know yet that the cook would find a small note in the evening between the tomatoes. The small piece of paper on which she had hastily written her address.

Something that made the blond almost dance through the kitchen and countless possibilities spread in his head. But in the next few days it was his own nervousness that ruined these attempts. First there were several bouquets of flowers he wanted to bring her, but he couldn't seem to find a perfect one.

Even with a meal he found nothing suitable no restaurant was good enough and no dish he could make was enough. All but one thing seemed to be left to him.

It was already early evening on the small summer island when the young woman made her way home from the marjtplatz. In her straw basket was the meal she wanted to make for tonight.

Walking the small way back to her house she arrived at her door and to her surprise she saw a small hanging on it. I hope you understand now it said in a pretty squiggly handwriting.

Slightly unsure, she first wanted to go to the small police station, but when she saw how the person had signed with Sanji. What have you prepared? she asked herself and felt her heart beat faster when she finally heard from him again. Cautiously she opened her door went inside her small house.

But as soon as she closed the door behind her, she saw a path of rose petals on her floor and paper hearts hanging from the ceiling. As well as several boxes of chocolates standing all around.

Carefully she put down her basket before following the trail of rose petals. Up her stairs to her bedroom with a pounding heart and a last breath she swallowed her nervousness before opening the door. But as she stepped into the room she felt the heat return to her cheeks.

She made a surprised noise and her hands covered her face, taking a moment. Before she looked out from between her fingers and saw him. Sanji the blond in his drastic search for something with which he could prove his love to her had seen only one way out.

To place himself naked on her bed with the white cover just covering the most necessary part of his body. ,,Y/n I know we know each other for what felt like a blink of an eye" he started and walked down from her bed, shakily walking towards her because of the blanket.

Before he came to a stop in front of her, ,,But my heart belongs to you and I know that you may be afraid but-but my heart beats only for you" he continued talking and grabbed her hand slowly leading her to his chest. She almost flinched when she heard his heartbeat as fast as her own.

His nervousness and restraint resembled hers. Which was only emphasized by the fact that the blanket fell from his body as he no longer held it. ,,Sanj-I-I don't know what to say...my heart I mean it beats just for you too" she confessed and it felt so good to finally say it the weight seemed to lift from her heart.

Finally they had both said it. At last it was that they had both confessed their love. Before he gently placed a hand on her cheek and pulled her into a gentle, shy kiss.

They both felt each other's warmth, each other's heart and each other's love. But at last their shy hearts had led to each other. The love of the two would last forever.

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

[katrinafaire]

The Forgotten Book 1: The Cure - Introducing Our Main Characters

While there is a fairly large cast of characters mentioned in The Cure even by it's half point, and even a fair amount who play roles of importance, the story is in fact centered on only three, and I would love to introduce them to you as best I can and still avoid plot spoilers.

The first character you meet goes by Bria (Ambria Hearth) and she is about to graduate as a medical chemist after six years of study (eight, counting two years of prerequisite study before gaining entry to the academy) when the events of the book go down. She's in her early thirties, 5'5" (165cm) with brown eyes and somewhat curly brown hair just past her shoulders, with light, cool toned skin. She's in decent shape because she walks or bikes everywhere. She doesn't wear much makeup out of a habit from working in a lab environment

I have semi-accurate fan casts for all three of them, should anyone want to know, and they might show up in mood/inspo boards later. If I do get commissions though, I'll absolutely show them off.

She is intelligent, intuitive - and impatient. While not overly nosy in general, if she feels something has any relevance to her or those she's close to, she wants to know and will carefully but persistently pursue that knowledge until she's actually given a 'no' by someone she respects. She's very well trained as a medical chemist, at the top of her class in academics, but doesn't actually have a lot of experience outside the classroom because she just hasn't had the opportunity yet.

Bria is upbeat and positive, ruthlessly optimistic until faced with situations that shake her resolve. Even then, she is quick to recover. She cherishes her loved ones even when they frustrate and irritate her and in general fills the archetype super trope "The Idealist" with the subtrope "Plucky Girl" - she's braver than she knows, pushed on by her determination to 'just do the right thing' regardless of how dangerous it ends up being. For her songs I think I'd have to choose I Lived by OneRepublic and Fight Song by Rachel Platten.

She's fun to write, and more nuanced than people in the book necessarily give her credit for. She goes through a lot during the course of the book (some of which isn't set in ink yet) but even when she's worn down, even if you stripped her down to her core, you will find the sunshine is shining through unbreakable diamond.

(For the sake of not dropping an even longer post on the dash, the other two characters are under the cut. Depending on your extensions, of course, this may have cut off sooner.)

Luca (Joel Luca) is the next character briefly introduced, though what little is shown is very telling. Luca is a man whose poker face is a blinding smile. He's a whirlwind of energy and full to bursting with emotions. He is both friend and mentor figure to Bria, and sometimes a bit of a big brother presence as well despite being over a decade older (mid forties).

Luca is 5'11" (180.3cm) with light blue eyes, short auburn hair, and darker skin. He's in excellent shape, given he prefers to deal with emotional upheaval with exercise and he is very, very prone to strong emotion. Granted he has a (initially unexplained) "gift/curse" of uncanny intuition that definitely effects that, but he's also just a man who feels and feels passionately.

Luca's never met a stranger (though sometimes I think he wishes he had) - he can strike up a conversation with anyone and his bright smiles and smooth tones nearly guarantee your average Joe isn't going to realize when it's fake. Of course, that means if he's visibly upset or angry he wants you to know about it - or, in some instances, he's just too worked up to smile.

While Luca's intuition is easily one of the more memorable aspects of his character, especially the times it's highly plot relevant, I would be remiss not to mention how warm he is. How he tries to be kind, even when he's hurting or upset. These are traits he grew into, though; he still has to fight not to give into impulsive action and rash emotional responses, a fight he doesn't always win. He's working on it.

His archetype tropes would definitely start with "The Kirk" and also teeters on the edge of "The Ignored Expert" at times. I do actually have two songs for him, The Change by Garth Brooks (link goes to a cover), and You've Got To Stand For Something by Aaron Tippin.

I have a blast writing Luca though it's a hard balance between his hard earned wisdom / experience and his potent emotions. I like to think I've struck a good balance.

Last but definitely not least is the Sage, Grimoire (additional naming revealed late in the book). To understand Grimoire is to first understand the Sages. Essentially, the Sages are living repositories of specialized knowledge from the modern era of the book back to theoretically the first documentations of their craft. They all conveniently have photographic memories that span across their senses. Grimoire is the active Sage of Medical Chemistry. Now in his late thirties, he's been training / in conditioning since he was four. No one seems to see the problem here.

Physically, Grimoire can at times be imposing. Though built lean, he stands at 6'3" (190.5cm) and has a broad frame, primarily in the shoulders with a swimmers build. His black hair is straight, coming down to brush his shoulders, and his brown eyes echo the warm tones of his light skin. He's been wearing glasses since he was in his early twenties, his voracious reading in questionable lighting as a boy catching up to him.

Grimoire is all about fact and truth, and feels physically ill when put in a situation where he has to lie - he'll do it, if he has to, but he won't like it. Like most Sages, Grimoire is happiest when pursuing new knowledge, which has led to him becoming educated in adjacent medical fields as well as random assortments of other things he simply ran into and asked about.

He's aware that straight honesty is not always the best response regardless of it being easier, and has gone to the school of Obi-Wan with appeasing his professional self with the thought that something may well still be true - from a certain point of view. Generally, however, he prefers to be honest.

Grimoire grew up childhood friends with both Luca and Bria, and at the start of the book he and Bria are dancing around their feelings for each other. While romance isn't the focus of the book, that will still be explored and resolved.

Archetypes for Grimoire would definitely be "The Conscience", "Seeker" and "The Spock" - obviously a running theme there. Off the top of my head, I'd choose Courage by Clay Finnesand and Invincible by David Archuleta for his songs.

I hope you enjoyed this bit of insight into the trio that run the show in The Cure. I'll be putting more out over time about them, and about important side characters as well as more lore in general.

Thanks for reading, and if you have any questions at all, hit up my askbox and I'll get a reply out! Anon is enabled, I believe, if you're anxious or shy. If I can't answer your question for whatever reasons, I will at least share a cool fact from my worldbuilding. That's all for now, take care!

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

July 2nd - Daniel Ricciardo

Based on New Year's Day by Taylor Swift and this request by @spikejonzed

Fluffly, mentions of sex, banter, nothing graphic.

BTW, I don't know how I've never paid attention to this song, it's so so beautiful and honest. I've thought about this concept before though: the "Sunday afternoon effect", when all the excitement of the weekend wears off and you're just hanging out with your friends, laughing about silly stuff, or cleaning up the house after the party. The thing is, the friends that stay till then are the ones you wanna hold on to, and the same goes for lovers. I feel kind of bad... well not BAD but you know, must be hard... when you're famous and rich, to recognize the good ones from the beginning before you give yourself too much away and it's too late.

To be honest with you guys, I think Daniel must feel a bit lonely sometimes. We all do, but to think that people are only interested in you for your fame and money must be tough... something you worked so hard, that you keep dedicating your life to, to think that that thing is the reason for your heartbreak, to your loneliness... It's a two-edged sword, isn't it? Anyway, I wrote this little something with Daniel in mind, hope you guys like it. Hope he finds someone to be like this someday. Hell, hope I find someone to be like this someday. I think everyone deserves that.

Daniel woke up in his bed, no shoes, but jeans and party shirt still on. The light coming through the windows, shining directly on his face, threatening to make his headache even worse. He let out a groan and turned to the side. There's someone on his bed with him. Shit. He just remembered. Last night was the first time he was introducing (y/n) to his friends. His birthday "small get together" (or at least that's what it was supposed to be) was the perfect opportunity for testing the waters and giving the "next step" without making too much fuss about it, after all, they've only been going out for a couple months and with his tight schedule it meant a lot of facetime calls and weekends, but almost no weekdays and routine stuff.

Yet, he was absolutely smitten with her, she was fun and easygoing, passionate about her own work and friends, but still caring and interested in him. They had amazing chemistry, mind-blowing even. But Daniel had lived enough to know that hanging out with someone on the weekends and knowing their best side was one thing, living through daily and mundane stuff was a completely different thing. Where this could go was still a mystery to him and he didn't want to raise too many expectations before he was sure. Still, she looked so beautiful sleeping, a true vision. He tried to remember if something had happened last night, but judging by his clothes still on, and hers as well, he guessed not. As if on cue, she smiled, with her eyes still closed.

"Stop being creepy" she said smiling. "I can feel you watching me sleep"

"You're not even asleep anymore" he smiled and she opened her eyes. He was taken back by her eyes staring directly into his.

"Still creepy though" she laughed, getting closer to him. He held her and they stayed like that for a while.

"Are you ok?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?

"Aren't you hungover, or sick?" he asked again and she laughed.

"Not at all. I have this really weird superpower, you know, I don't get hungover. Ever, actually" she laughed.

"I don't believe you. I have the headache"

"No, it's true. We did drink a lot yesterday, though" she commented.

"Yeah, well, welcome to having Australian friends. No such thing as light drinking with those guys" he laughed but grimaced at the pain in his brain.

"I'll get you something"

"Huh?"

"For the pain" she explained getting up from the bed.

After a while she returned with a pill and a glass of water, passing them to him.

"Thank you, baby" he took the glass, finishing it. "Come back to bed now"

"Your house... like, I'm not even sure if I should tell you to take a look or just pack your essentials and abandon it" she smiled.

"Uhh" he groaned. "I'll call someone later"

"Like a constructor with a wrecking ball?" she laughed.

"It can't be that bad"

"It's bad" she started. "But we can manage it" He looked at her intrigued. "After a shower" she pulled his hand. "Join me?"

"If I ever say no to that question, just put me in an asylum" he said. "I need a kiss though, as motivation" he smirked.

"Noo... I have morning breath"

"What? Me too" he said pulling her down and kissing her anyway. "Uh, no. You're right. Yours is worst" he said laughing while getting up and walking into the bathroom.

"Asshole!" she laughed following him.

They stripped and got into the shower, taking turns in letting the water run through their bodies.

"Come here" Daniel said, putting some body wash in his hands and spreading them over (y/n) body.

"Hum... this feels nice" she said.

"You're so beautiful" he said kissing her shoulder.

"You're so wasted" she laughed lightly.

"Hey! I'm sober. I'm just too tired. Give me a couple hours to recover, and I'll claim my birthday privileges"

"Birthday privileges? It's not even your birthday anymore" she laughed.

"Okay, but first, it's the weekend of, and second, I didn't get any time alone with you yesterday"

"Fair. And what will be your requests, may I ask?" she asked teasingly.

"Humm... you're so creative" he said kissing her. "I'm sure we'll think of something"

They finished the shower after a while, enjoying each other's company and the comfortable silence.

"Did anyone crashed here?" (y/n) asked when they were stepping out of the shower.

"I have no idea" Daniel answered. "I just remembered going to take a nap and waking up this morning. Shit, we didn't... did we?" (y/n) laughed out loud at that.

"Wow! Really, Dan?"

"We did not. I would've remembered"

"Good save. Such a gentleman" she laughed.

"I drank way too much. Sorry. Don't be mad"

"It's fine. I'm messing with you, I don't remember anything either. To be honest, I don't even remember joining you on your 'nap'" she said making air quotes.

"We're the worst hosts" he said getting out of the bathroom and going into the closet to get some clothes.

(y/n)'s heart swelled at the thought of hosting a party with Daniel. There was something so intimate about that statement, so homey.

"You want a shirt?" Daniel asked from the other room, waking her up from her daydream.

"Yeah, sure" she took the shirt, some underwear, and some sweats. Then brushed her wet hair and looked in the mirror. Not a trace of makeup left. She sighed thinking about how falling into a routine with Daniel meant letting the barriers down.

"Alright, snap out of it" she said to herself, getting out of the bathroom and walking outside, to the living room where Daniel was standing rubbing his neck and looking around.

"This is bad" he said when he saw her joining him. There were empty beer bottles and cups all around the living room and balcony, pizza boxes (with half-eaten slices left behind) in the coffee table, party decorations hanging from the ceiling, and the kitchen was even worse, with liquid spilled on the ground and bottles everywhere. There was glitter all over the floor and the couch - someone had brought some of those party poppers, which looked so much fun yesterday, but no so much now. But the best part was the polaroids, left all over the house with the craziest poses.

"Pack your stuff, we're deserting this goddam hellhole" he said and she knew he was joking, he said that about everywhere, but she still shook her head and rolled her eyes, picking a polaroid photo from the ground.

"Everyone had so much fun" she showed it to him. "I loved meeting your friends"

He took the photo from her hand, it was one where (y/n) was sitting on the couch with two of his buddies from Australia, making funny faces while holding cups. He remembered the moment because he was the one who took the photo.

"How's the headache?" she asked him.

"Almost gone"

"Good. So you don't have an excuse. Move your ass, where are the trash bags?" she laughed going into the kitchen.

"Hey! That was very sneak of you" he laughed but followed her anyway.

They spent the next hour collecting bottles, vacuuming glitter, and just cleaning the whole house. Daniel complained the whole time, but in truth, he was very glad to have her there. Sure, he could just ignore the whole mess and hire someone on Monday to clean everything (he probably would still do that anyway, for the heavy cleaning like bathrooms), but it was really nice of her to just stick around, seeming unbothered by the housework. When she finished tying the last trash bag and putting it on the entry hallway she flopped on the couch besides Daniel, who had called it a day some good 10 minutes ago.

"Done?" he asked her.

"I feel like punching you for asking me that" she answered playing annoyed. He lifted his hand in defense.

"What? I did my part!"

"Men" she shook her head. "I'm surprised you haven't complained about being hungry yet"

"Well, I'm starving! Was just waiting to suggest going out, or ordering in"

"Ordering in, please. I don't want to get off this couch any time soon"

Daniel got his phone out to order some food. It was almost noon, so he thought about something like pasta, some carbs would be nice right now. Then he felt (y/n)'s head drop on his shoulder, her hand caressing his arm. It was such a sweet gesture, so understated, he just stopped what he was doing and looked at her.

"What?" she looked at him.

"I'm really glad you're here. Thank you"

"It's nothing" she smiled.

"I don't mean the cleaning. Well, that too. But just, thank you for being you and wanting to hang out with me, you know, after the party"

"I'll always wanna hang out with you, partying or cleaning bottles" she said and leaned in to kiss him. "Happy birthday old man" this made him smile through the kiss.

"Thank you, young lady" he said still smiling. "Let's feed you now, yeah?"

"Please! Let's get some carbs on this house!" she smile.

"Hey, guys!" (y/n) and Daniel looked up to see Luke, one of Daniel's buddies walking out of the guest bedroom.

"Dude! I didn't know you were here" Daniel laughed.

"Yeah, just woke up. Definitely wasn't hiding in the bedroom waiting for the cleaning end to get out" he grinned making (y/n) and Daniel laugh.

"You know what? Just for that, you're going downstairs to pick up the food when it gets here, and taking out the trash!" (y/n) teased him, tossing a pillow from the couch at him.

Daniel just observed while his friend and his girlfriend joked and laughed. He thought about how right now he was enjoying a feeling of contempt that wasn't really natural or much appreciated by professional athletes, but this time felt right to indulge in it. He felt safe like someone's got him, finally. He took (y/n) hand on his and squeezed it three times, he knew this was already a good thing, something to last. She looked at him, she knew exactly what he meant.

[prof-peach]

My little kirlia loves to have tea in a garden, so I've been thinking of planting some flowers around a little table outside, I'm not very good at it myself though, and do tend to be forgetful. Any recommendations on easy to care, yet pretty flowers? Do any flowers/plants have special effects on Pokemon that I should be concern/excited about?

ok, so we had a little chat about the weather you get, and I now know you have cold-ish climates, but a good bit of sun, so this is what I can suggest for you and your dear partner, to get the most out of your garden without too much work.  SO, first things first, Grasses. They come in so many shapes and forms, all different colours, heights and can often tough out even the most bitter winter. The only real work I find you have to do with ornamental grasses is at the very end of winter, cut them back to the ground, and they’ll grow back nice and lush come spring when the sun starts to shine. People cut these grasses down quickly because they see them as scruffy, but I encourage you to avoid this, as the grass itself is so important to small bug types, and feeding bird pokemon who need nesting material, grubs to eat, and generally cover from predators. plus bonus, less work for you.

Grasses can create a privacy screen too, so if you're overlooked by neighbours, or your garden is very open and gets a lot of harsh wind, then plating tall tough grasses will not only give you incredible textures, but also some well deserved cover from prying eyes or bitter winds. They also help smaller less tough plants shelter, and can help keep the other things you plant in the space safer. They naturally clump and spread, and you really don’t have to do much other than sit back and watch their beautiful seed heads blow in the wind, creating movement, sound, and giving a great depth of texture to any garden. Plus who doesn't like to see sweet little pidgey feeding on seeds?

Pampas Grass: Super tall, beautiful foliage, real winners, Extra tough plants. ^

Zebra Grass, tall, dense, beautiful stripes, easy and tough ^

for a more Tropical vibe, perhaps try some bamboo ^

 some folks are nervous about it because its fast growing and harder to control, you can stop its spread by planting in containers, OR putting bamboo into the ground, but line where you want it to grow with pond liner, a thick durable plastic, that the plant will struggle to grow through. If you plant a few in a lined trench, they'll fill that space in no time, giving you a thick wall of tough evergreen grass, that literally can be left all year round. makes for pretty foliage in cut flower mixes too.

Ok thats the backdrop laid out for you, now the fun stuff and colour! So heres some of my favs, which i know come in a range of variants.

 ^ Hardy Hibiscus, a shrub, known for their reds, whites, pinks and purples, and yellows, with lovely foliage and a mass of flowers big enough for the combee, cutifly and even butterfree to frequent. they arent overly sweet smelling but very pretty and need little care once established. You can even plant them in pots and they’d be pretty happy if you just feed them.

Hydrangea ^, known for pinks and purples, blues, and whites, their flowers (when not fed specific colouration feed) will change based on how acidic or alkali your soil is. If you want the flowers to not change colour, then get a white one (which is far prettier in my opinion haha). The white ones don’t change colour and will stay no matter your soil type. You can get special feed for them to keep them a certain colour, but its a bit of a faff and not for everyone. these plants can be delicate (see Hydrangea ‘limelight’, or ‘bluebird’) or bold and big (Hydrangea ‘big daddy’ or ‘annabelle’). Should you have a wall and some cash to splash, you can even get a climbing Hydrangea, which is quite stunning.

^ Lilac. Tough, easy to care for, and SO sweet smelling you’d think you’d died and gone to heaven. They come in whites, pinks and purples mostly, and have a robust nature you’d not expect from such a sweet smelling thing. I cannot stress how good and tough these plants are, and once established they can get incredibly aged and majestic. 

These shrubs can be controlled to be small, or left to turn to large shrubs, depending on the space you're working with. I would advise putting in your larger plants first, then slowly adding smaller bits, as the big stuff creates the frame for your garden, its like putting bones in first, to support and hold together the spaces form.

after this, its all down to small floral bits. you mentioned tropical vibes up top, so i’d say go for some greens in there too, ferns and large leaved hostas are pretty cold tolerant (hostas can also flower which is lovely), and give a real feel for depthy jungle and texture, and the more green you get, the more the flowers pop against it.

for ground cover and softer smaller plants, think hardy Geraniums, maybe some hardy shrub Fuchias, a personal fav for its fearless defiance to the cold is Erysimum, and then you have age old winners like Aquilegia, Yarrow, and Scabiosa. Do a google, check out the options and hopefully head to your local nursery to pick a few bits up. i’d suggest planting up when the ground doesn't get frost in the morning, to give your new plants the best chance. water whatever you plant into the ground thoroughly once, and only do so again should you get a particularly hot summer day. 

All the plants i’ve mentioned are tough as old boots if you make sure they're ‘Hardy’ thats the word to look on labels with anything you plan to put in. There aren't any plants that I know of that affect the Ralts line thoroughly AND fit the vibe you were gong for that we discussed, but i do know they're easily calmed by scented plants, so go to a local centre, or even public gardens and take some time to smell the flowers. If they plant it in your local park, and your pokemon enjoys it, chances are it can survive your weather and rough soil type. I find the Ralts line is very in tune with their trainers, and so if you enjoy the garden, if you like the sound of the grass in the wind, or the smell of the flowers, or buzz of combee floating by, then they'll join in and be content.

You mentioned your Kirlia likes tea? grab some mint and pop that in a pot for her, don’t put it in the ground, it goes wild and rampant. Also Chamomile is a rather hardy plant to have, and she may enjoy to learn the process of caring for and using that delicious little herby plant. It has sweet daisy flowers and does well in sunny spots or pots, and smells divine, some people even use it as an alternative for a lawn.

Pleeeeeease let me know how it goes, and if any of these names or phrases seem daunting, I am here to help, and can promise you i’ve given pretty easy starting points, and ALL of these plants can handle being in containers or in the dirt, in exposed positions, and none need rigorous feeding or care, other than the odd water, and the dead flowers trimmed off. If you get stuck message in, Gardening is kind of my vibe, and i’d hate to think you’d get a little overwhelmed. Plants move so slowly, you get a lot of time to fix issues and mistake (i know i make a lot of them haha) and they're also very forgiving, so don’t feel like you have to know a lot to get started, its a hobby that gets us outdoors, and brings great joy when the things we care for flower and give results, and we can learn from our decisions if they should fail and die. 

GOOD LUCK!

[vecnawrites]

Dog tail faunus Jaune goes into heat and the only one near by is Neon Katt who is more than happy to help she just under estimated how bad his heat was and what hes packing.

Jaune panted, his tail twitching as sweat dripped down his body. He fought back the urge to whine, he wasn’t a scraggly preteen dealing with his first heat, he was an adult now, with several under his belt. He would have to get back to the dorm first, before the effects really hit him; he didn’t want a repeat of the first time he had lost control, or the last time.

He had been lucky as all hell that Saphron and Terra had wanted a baby, and were going to ask him to donate anyway. So while it was awkward to mount and rut his sister-in-law in his head, it had at least worked out for them, and was nothing more than something to laugh about now.

But even more than that, he thanked the Brothers that Velvet was such a kind and understanding girl, even being sweet enough to say she was willing to help him out again if he needed it. He had been incredibly thankful, hugging the girl tightly. He did wonder why she had such a blush on her cheeks, though. It might have been embarrassment, since they were both still naked at the time.

But that was neither here nor there at this point. Velvet was on a mission with her team and Pyrrha (who had heavily insisted, cheeks as red as her hair that he come to her for help the next time his heat flared up) was away doing some sort of sponsorship thing, leaving him alone at the moment...he shook himself again. He needed to leave, to get back to the dorms, before-!

“Heeeeyyy~!” Jaune froze as the cute cat faunus from Atlas appeared before him, her eyes sultry and looking interested, roaming over his body, her own feline tail flicking back and forth. He watched her sniff the air and lick her lips, his own powerful nose picking up a sweet, almost cloyingly so, scent. His cock throbbed as he realized it was the scent of her arousal, a sweet, tempting thing that called to him, made his libido swell, his cock throbbing and straining lewdly against the fabric of his trousers.

Before he could say anything, the orangette snagged his wrist and began walking, dragging him along with her, helped out by her roller blades...it also had the added effect of flipping her skirt up every few seconds, revealing her plump, pert cheeks of her ass, and just beneath it, flashes of pink, shining under the light, which told him not only where the wonderful smell was originating from, but that this girl was very daring, going around in a skirt that short without panties.

Hey couldn’t stop the yelp from escaping his lips as he was dragged into one of the empty ‘study dorms’ (which were meant for studying, but were more often than not used for sex. He would know, one of these were where he and Velvet ended up) and shoved towards the bed as she closed and locked the door behind her. Looking up, he was met with a blur of color which knocked him to the bed with a naked orange haired girl above him, hovering with a cheeky grin on her face.

~x~x~x~x~

Neon Katt was what one would call a party and fun loving individual. She loved nothing more than having a good time, and orgasms definitely counted as having a good time! They were the perfect way to wind down after a long, stressful day...or just to have fun and relax!

But, much like a cat, she was also quite the opportunist. She knew that the blonde beneath her held the biggest dick in the fucking school, and she had interrogated, uh she meant, had a ‘girls chat’ with the bunny faunus in the year above when she saw the weak, bow legged, limping gait the bunny had, telling anyone who knew anything that she had been fucked marvelously.

As the mortified bunny spilled her guts to Neon, the party Katt found herself drooling from both sets of lips. Hell, she was surprised that Velvet had actually been able to walk at all from how vigorous she said that he had been!

A plan quickly hatched in her mind, a genius, diabolical plan to get some loving! A cunning plan to ensure she got fucked just as heartily and well as the bunny faunus had. It wasn’t like people were lining up to share her bed in Atlas, after all.

And so far, the plan had worked perfectly! She could feel that cock pushing up against her pantiless ass (she was beyond thankful that she had forgone the garment on the way here as she had been so wet she might have ruined it, and she might do so from now on, that was so naughty~) and gazed down at her prey with a sultry look on her face.

“Well now...I can feel you’re having a bit of a problem, big boy~” she cooed, rubbing back against the thick cock still trapped within it’s bindings. She licked her lips, sure that she was going to have a wonderful time riding that beast. “Fortunately, Neon’s more than willing to help you out!”

Scooting down, Neon licked her lips hungrily as she stared at the massive bulge, her fingers curling into the fabric of her pants, pulling them and his boxers down and-

WHACK!

Her vision swam, not only from the sudden strike to her face, but the thick wave of hot musk that washed over her and drove her animal instincts wild, her pussy gushing and squirting out onto the bed, panting and huffing up the delicious musk that filled her lungs and overpowered her brain, frying her synapses. She squirmed, her nose rubbing that thick length as she slumped down and forwards, until her face was covered in an almost boiling warmth, her tail flicking back and forth wildly as the mind melting smell cloaked her lungs, imprinting itself into her nose and brain.

Her small chest pushed outwards as she inhaled as deeply as she could, pale pink nipples hard and swollen, as she refused to leave the musky warmth that enamored her so. She could stay there forever...she rubbed her face deeper into that heavy sack, her toes curling.

She was so intoxicated by Jaune’s musk, she failed the warmth going missing, her being spun around and settled onto her front, face down, ass up, the blonde gripping her hips. She did, however, take notice when the thick fat shaft she had just been shamelessly rubbing her cheeks against fell between her toned ass cheeks with a loud SLAP, the fat rod rutting a bit between her cheeks before sliding down and resting against her soaking, dripping pussy lips.

She looked back drunkenly, eyes widening as she saw the large, obscenely thick cock attached to the blonde Arc, with an even thicker, bulbous, fist-sized knot at the base, twitching with every heartbeat of the young man it was attached to. She swallowed hard. “Uh, can...can we tal-”

-SLICKT!!

Neon’s eyes crossed as Jaune’s bitch breaking fuck stick of a cock spread her pussy wide open, though thankfully, she could feel that massive knot still outside of her poor core. A strained mewling noise escaped her lips as her fingers curled into the sheets, her body trembling heavily from the myriad of sensations rushing through her body.

She felt her lover begin to move back, and her core, on reflex movement, began to squeeze down, trying to keep the heavy cock inside her body, before a loud yowl escaped her throat as Jaune decided to thrust back inside her body with a slick noise, her pussy clamping down hard around the shaft in a faux orgasm.

The pace wasn’t slow. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t loving. It was rough, primal, aggressive, outright animalistic. Neon could only release the most pitiful mewls as she was thrust into, fucked into, the bed, her tongue hanging out of her mouth, drool staining the sheets beneath her.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! PlaP! PlaP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

Wet, slick noises filled the study room air, along with male and female sex musk, as Neon was fucked hard, fast, brutally into the bed, her more carnal, feline instincts loving it, her pussy flexing and clamping down on the invader in constant, wet and messy orgasm.

Pap! Pap! Pap! Teal green eyes widened as Neon felt that fat knot prodding insistently at her pussy lips with every thrust now, feeling the cock within her twitching and throbbing in warning of what was to come. Gathering every bit of strength she could in her panic, Neon raised her head up. “W-wai-!”

POP!

“NNNNNNNNNN!!!” Neon’s pupils shrunk to pinpricks, before rolling up in her head as her entire body went stiff, her tail sticking straight out like a ramrod as Jaune’s knot found its way into her unprepared pussy, locking her and the blonde together, hip to ass, the tip of his cock pressed flush against her cervix.

“nnnnnnn♥~” she whined out as her blonde lover began to rut into her body again, his big strong hands moving from her hips and down to her butt, fingers sinking into the muscle as he delivered shorter, but far more powerful and intense thrusts, his tip smacking into her cervix over and over.

Fingers and toes curled into the sheets, nearly tearing them outright as Neon lost herself to the brutally intense fucking, her pussy clamping down and squeezing tightly as she squirted, reaching her most powerful orgasm yet.

She slumped to the bed, boneless and body quaking as Jaune continued to slam into her over and over and over again, his thick cock throbbing and twitching mightily deep within her, signifying that his own orgasm was imminent. Neon knew, she just knew, that the moment he came she would never be the same afterwards! Her eyes widened as she felt a powerful throb within her, followed by incredible warmth filling her belly. Her toes curled.

“Nyaaaaaaaa♥~!” she cried out, hearts in her eyes as she fell face first to the bed and quivering as she felt strong, thick spurts of warm cum filling her belly, shooting into her welcoming womb. She blissfully passed out, purring deeply, and an overjoyed expression on her face.

Huffing, Jaune slumped over Neon’s body, slowly rutting his hips as his balls steadily drained into her warm and velvety pussy. Carefully gathering the unconscious girl into his arms and turning onto their sides, Jaune tucked the unconscious cat Faunus against his front, he settled and let himself relax, letting the dopamine and serotonin from his continuous orgasm wash over him, his hand gently rubbing over his sleeping partner’s slowly swelling belly.

He closed his eyes, hoping that when both of them woke later, she would feel up to another round before separating. Burying his nose into her hair, he allowed himself to drift off, happy and content.

[tommybaholland]

bnha boys in love [valentine’s edition💗]

featuring: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki, kirishima, kaminari, shinso, amajiki, and dabi

for anyone who might be feeling lonely today, enjoy a lil something from ur fav bnha boy who loves u! 

midoriya is one that gets nervous but tries hard to turn it into excitement when thinking about what he’s going to do for or with you on valentine’s day. as an aspiring hero, he always wants to put a smile on others’ faces and you’re no different. actually, you could be an exception because he loves you and those feelings are different from acts of altruism. rather, he wants to give you something straight from his heart. he’s always wanted to cook dinner for someone else, even after he’s always had his mom make him anything he wanted. he receives some basic guidance for her over the phone but he still has zero clue what he’s doing until kacchan stumbles upon him in the dorm kitchen struggling to cut onions. after some threats, yelling, and lots of arguing, the two manage to make a decent meal, actually a whole spread of food for the night. you’ve never had someone put that much thought or make dinner for you so its absolutely surreal when he presents it to you. the meal itself is really good and the night ends with the you both falling into food comas on the couch, relaxing into one another. 

bakugo seems very distant leading up to the day. he didn’t seem like the type to make a big deal out of valentine’s day. then again, he had never gotten many chances to celebrate it, except reluctantly with classmates and his parents. you didn’t mind how he felt about it but it was strange that you hadn’t seen much of him the past few days. on the day, you want to not think about his absence so you decide to get some training in. not an hour passes before bakugo storms in, “there you are, IDIOT! i’ve been looking everything for you! you’re coming with me..” he doesn’t allow you time to change or shower and instructs you to close your eyes as he leads you by the hand somewhere. he voice goes soft as he stops and tells you to open your eyes. you open them to see your favorite dessert sitting in front of you and a lit candle to complete the ambience. you’re in complete awe. you knew he could cook but had no idea he could bake but he explains that sato helped him with the recipe and how he almost gave up the whole thing because he couldn’t get it right the first few times. he admits it might still not be perfect but he loves you so very much and-- he doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before you’re silencing him with a kiss. 

todoroki could give you anything you wanted on a regular basis, being the son of a pro hero and all. it’s this ceiling effect that gets him in a bind for what to do for you because naturally he’d just spoil you extra. but something tells him he shouldn’t focus on the material items but rather the gesture, the sentiment, maybe even the experience. the beginning of the day is slow and lazy, with him coming to your room early in the morning to lay with you in bed. being the sleepy boy he is, he ends up falling asleep on you and you follow close behind. luckily, he set an alarm so you wouldn’t miss what he has planned. he takes you to a hot spring in a secluded location, where you (appropriately) share one together. it’s really nice and relaxing and a different type of alone you get to spend with him. he tries to rub your feet but you won’t let him because you’re ticklish and that starts a little tickle war. you surrender by wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as your ribs ache from laughing so hard. you stare at each other while catching your breath, lips slowly drawing closer. it’s all around a beautiful moment with such a pretty and kind-hearted boy. 

kirishima would save as much as he could to be able to spoil you on this day. he figures; that’s what it’s for, right? this man would try to go above and beyond for you any day because you’re so worth it to him but valentine’s is truly his day to shine. he decides to put together a scavenger hunt which involves one long tour of your previous dates, like the buffet restaurant and the arcade. he even sneaks in little nostalgic things during your time as a couple, like at the park where he learned how you liked to lay on your stomach while he’d draw little shapes on your back. it’s crazy but so fun and cute and special. it ends in a random backside of a building at UA and it’s familiar but you’re confused as to why he brought you here. “this was the place where you first told me you were interested in me..and i was so nervous but so flattered that someone as wonderful as you could like me.” and he goes on and on but he can’t help that he feels so much love for you, which is something he didn’t really think he’d get to experience. he’s oh so grateful to have you and so are you to have the manliest, cutest, sweetest boyfriend ever. 

kaminari feels the pressure of making your first valentine’s with him the best day you’ve ever had and tries to put on a front but fails. he loves that you’re so easygoing and chill with anything but he wants to make the day special. he wants to go above and beyond for you because you deserve it so much. he really likes the idea of an private outdoor dinner because the ambience is already pretty romantic. he sets it all up and when the time comes, he’s just too excited and can’t keep it a secret. he leads you outside as he tells you that he strung up all these lights but when you get out there, it’s real dark. he goes, “this is the best part.” he uses his quirk to simultaneously light up the small bulbs dangling from the strings. unfortunately, several of them blow a fuse and shatter, diminishing the full effect. you both laugh it off like normal and he says he was prepared for that, pulling out a lighter to light the candles on the table. it’s sweet and thoughtful, but don’t think you’ve escaped the ‘are you trying to romance me’ tiktok references. it’s okay though because a denki date night wouldn’t be complete without them. 

shinso is similar to bakugo when it comes to valentine’s, except he’s more so indifferent, rather than not caring about it. he’d be the type to ask you what you want or would like to do but he realizes that was a lost cause because of course you tell him it doesn’t really matter to you and you’d be happy with whatever. you’re so lovely to him everyday, despite his insecurities and trust qualms, so he silently promises to give you a day that you deserve. he tells you he has a surprise. it’s easy to hide as he takes you to your favorite cat cafe, a place where you two are regulars. there’s one cat there, a black and white tuxedo cat, that you are particularly fond of. he enjoys watching you smile as the cat rubs up against you and lays in your lap. you’ve completely forgotten about why you were there until he tells you that the cat is yours if you want him. you’re in complete disbelief but he tells you that he had arranged it with the owner of the cafe, who had noticed that the cat was very skittish and avoidant of other people, except for you. “and i told him, ‘yeah, me too.’” 

amajiki is nervous, of course. probably more nervous than on a regular basis. he knows he shouldn’t be because you’re so wonderful and accept anything he’s done for you with your sweet smile and kisses. he doesn’t like going out to public places too often but he wants to take you to several that you’ll both enjoy and he’ll feel somewhat comfortable. every place has something to do with nature: a zoo, an aquarium, and finally, a butterfly garden which he remembered you mentioning how you had always wanted to go to one. although he knows butterflies are gentle creatures, he isn’t so big on bugs in general, especially when there’s hundreds of them flying around him. you hold his hand the entire time, relaxing him as time goes by. you giggle as they land on the tips of his ears, making him smile as their delicate legs tickle his skin. he grins at your reaction as he pulls you closer. “nothing compares to your butterfly kisses, bunny.” he leans in to blink against your skin, his lashes brushing lightly like wings. you return the gesture to him, hugging him close to you as he pets your hair. he can be shy but your own little love language made up for it.

dabi has never been into something as trivial as a day about love. to him, it’s like any other day. but he never expected that he’d be scrambling around the city to find the perfect flowers to give to you. it’s the least he could do but it could never make up for everything you’ve done for him. you’ve made him feel loved and wanted; having proven it by sticking by him this entire time, such as the fact that he’s now a wanted criminal. he has to be discrete. this doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have standards and wouldn’t give you just any flower that was thrown out or forgotten. he starts to get frustrated as he stalks around in a forest and lets his quirk burn off a little steam, catching the trees and foliage into blue flames. then he sees it. you’re a little on edge when he gets home, worried that something had happened after you hadn’t seen him all day. he reminds you what day it is and then holds up what he found: a lonely flower, singed a bit on the ends of the petals but intact and tall. he explains that it reminded him of you, your relationship, what you mean to him. it’s rough around the edges and imperfect but resilient and strong.

happy valentine’s day from bnha night! any lovely requests may enter here..

[phykios]

this one is dedicated to mi amor mari @perseannabeth, who is a beautiful bird and a wonderful friend and i am v v vvvvv grateful to have crossed the airwaves with her :”)

Today Was A Fairytale [read on ao3] T, modern royalty, fun at disneyland!

She stares at him. 

He stares back. “What?”

“Really?”

“What?”

“You really think this is going to be enough?” Annabeth points at her head, the blue Yankees cap squishing her curls. 

“Of course! It’s the Clark Kent effect.” As if to underline his point, Percy slips on his fake hipster glasses, except that stupid grin of his is too bright not to draw attention. 

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Sure it is. Studies show that glasses are actually good enough to alter your appearance if someone doesn’t know you well.”

“Then why didn’t you bring a pair of glasses for me?”

“Because your hair is definitely the prettiest thing about you,” he says, automatically tugging an unruly curl which peeks out from under the brim, a gesture so practiced she almost doesn’t register it--until he blinks, dropping his hand, blushing lightly. “I mean--the most noticeable thing. You know. A hat should be fine.”

He looks away. Heat rises to her face, too. Because it’s so hot out, obviously. 

“Anyway,” he mumbles, “um. No--no one’s going to give you a second look if your hair is hidden.”

Chewing her lip, Annabeth can’t help but worry. Percy’s face is extremely well-known, possibly more than hers, and they’ve both spent the better part of three weeks with their faces plastered all over the media on their diplomatic trip. This is probably a really, really bad idea. Then, a thought occurs to her. “How about,” she says, perking up, “you give me your glasses, and I’ll give you mine.” From her backpack, she fishes out a pair of sunglasses, big and nondescript. He’ll practically be wearing a superhero mask with these.

Percy smiles again, and Annabeth thinks she might fly. “Perfect.”

Which is how Her Royal Highness Anna Elisabeth Ingrid Irene of Sweden and His Serene Highness Perseus Alexandros Ioannis of Thera play hooky from their day of boring meetings, insufferable dignitaries, and stuffy security guards, to go see the eighth wonder of the world: Disneyland Resort in California.

And how Annabeth eats her words as they make it past the security gate unchecked. “Eh?” He beams, nudging her with his elbow. “Eh?”

Rolling her eyes, she shoves him back. “Shut up.”

***

[description: a tiktok video which depicts a line at Disneyland. the op, a black girl with braids, covers her mouth and looking into the camera, turning the camera to focus on the two people behind her. one is a tall boy with black hair and sunglasses, and the other is a blonde girl with a yankees hat and glasses. both are white. video text reads: “p sure the people behind me are prince percy and princess annabeth??? um?????”. background audio is a dubstep remix of the fight theme from undertale. end ID]

***

Maybe it’s a little weird, on account of her being actual royalty and all, but Annabeth has always been interested in princesses, both as a matter of historical record (history is awesome) and in the general sense. Like millions of other people, she, too, was raised on Disney movies and tales of princesses and true love, and she was just as captivated as the rest of them. She and Percy used to watch the Disney catalogue whenever their families held state visits for each other, staying up into the small hours of the morning, sharing some popcorn and singing along. 

Luckily for Annabeth, her favorite princess is holding a meet and greet at the Royal Hall.

“Excuse me,” Percy says, approaching Princess Ariel. Well, her cast member, anyway. “Could I get a photo for my friend?”

“Of course!” she trills, her blue eyes sparkling. “It would be my pleasure.” Holding her hand out, perfectly poised and graceful in a way that would impress even Annabeth’s stodgy etiquette instructor, she smiles, warm and welcoming, pivoting to bring Annabeth in for one of those weird, semi-awkward half-hugs. “What’s your name?”

“Anna,” says Annabeth. Hey, it’s not untrue. She’s a little leery of using any of her names, but Anna is common enough. Annabeth? Not so much. Even with her glasses and hat disguise, a little paranoia is justified, she thinks.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you, Anna,” she says, cheerful, with all the grace and charm of someone who doesn’t spend hours saying the same thing over and over again to excitable, temperamental children. What a trooper, she thinks.

“Don’t you recognize a fellow princess when you see one, your highness?” Percy says, grinning that stupid, smarmy grin of his. 

Annabeth glares. Oh, he thinks he’s so damn clever. 

“Oh, of course,” says Ariel, smoothly. “How could I have thought otherwise? Your highness.” And she curtsies to Annabeth, a short dip, her hand placed delicately against her chest. “Perhaps I can introduce you to my friend Anna, princess of Arendelle?”

Still smirking, Percy takes some more pictures, trapping Annabeth into smiling for the camera. She can’t be glaring daggers in her pictures, nor can there be video evidence of her kicking him--no matter how much she wants to.

And she definitely doesn’t miss the way Ariel not-so-subtly checks Percy out, eyeing him up and down.

“You fucking asshole,” she hisses as they leave the photo area, swatting him lightly, and he giggles. 

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Ugh, I hate you so much.”

It’s hard to stay mad at him, though she definitely tries as they enter back out into the park proper, giving him just the barest hint of a cold shoulder. 

“Aw, come on,” Percy says. “I was just teasing.”

“You shouldn’t go around tempting fate like that,” Annabeth says. “Do you want to cause another international incident?”

Percy winces, no doubt remembering the Gateway Arch incident of 2008. 

“If someone recognizes us, we don’t have Zoe or any of her team to protect us,” Annabeth goes on. “Not that I think anyone here would try to hurt us, but…” But it’s a little nerve-wracking, being on her own like this. She hasn’t been alone like this for a really long time.

Wincing, Percy rubs the back of his head. “I guess I forgot you’re a little higher profile than me. Sorry.”

She doesn’t like to think about it, but it’s true. Percy, by his nature as the younger son of a largely defunct royal house, doesn’t have quite the same number of… issues… that someone like Annabeth might have.

Deflating, she uncrosses her arms. “It’s okay.”

“I should have asked you first.”

“It’s really okay,” she says. “No harm no foul.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, entirely serious. “I can call someone up.”

She knows just how long they’ve planned this, how many favors he’s called in and policies he’s sidestepped. Backing out now would just be a waste of a day. She shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she says. “I’m just… feeling a little exposed, I guess. But, I don’t want to ruin all our plans. Let’s keep going.” She grabs his hand, squeezing a little.

“...Okay,” Percy says. “But say the word, and we’ll call it a day. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Like he doesn’t have any other expression today, he smiles at her again.

It hits her, suddenly. He’s so much taller than she remembers. Once upon a time she used to be taller than him; now, he’s basically a whole head above her. 

It’s annoying. But also… not.

Spying something over her shoulder, his eyes light up, and he practically gasps. “Cinderella!” he points with his free hand, like a five-year old. “Come on!” And he takes off to one of the park corners, dragging Annabeth along with him. 

He has to wait in line behind a pair of twin girls, six or seven years old by the looks of it, in identical Cinderella dresses for a photo, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, and when it’s finally his turn, he nearly trips over himself to go up and ask for a photo. 

Cinderella agrees, and now Annabeth is relegated to the job of cameraperson. Percy slides in next to the princess, his hand on her waist, but, ever the respectful gentleman, loosely held, so the cast member can slide out of his grasp without any difficulty at all.

Taking a few shots, it does look kind of strange to have Cinderella’s beautiful, shining face, and Percy’s enormous sunglasses blocking his. “Take off your glasses?” she says, lowering her phone for a second. 

Dutifully, Percy slips them off, smiling again for the camera. 

Cinderella’s smile doesn’t falter, a credit to her professionalism, but Annabeth can see her eyes widen, just a touch.

Annabeth snaps off a few more photos, “Got ‘em!” and Percy once again gushes over the princess, thanking her for her time. Grabbing Annabeth’s hand again, he practically skips off, leading them in the direction of a nearby candy shop. 

***

me: IM SHAKING GUESS WHO I JUST TOOK A PICTURE WITH????

sis: prince percy?

me: HOW TF DID YOU KNOW

sis: its on twitter already

***

They’re walking along, Annabeth slurping up a Dole whip, when she suddenly stops in her tracks, outside of one of the many, many gift shops. “Wait up a second.”

“Hm?” Percy says, around the giant lollipop in his mouth. 

“I want to get some Mickey ears.” 

Very quickly they get lost in the sea of Disney merchandise, walking the labyrinth of Star Wars and Marvel and Pixar goods. There’s a surprising amount of black for the so-called happiest place on Earth, but things do brighten up when Annabeth finally turns a corner and finds the enormous selection of Mickey ears. It’s a wash of sparkles, flowers, bows, and occasionally characters, for children and adults alike. Annabeth eyes a pair designed like Baby Yoda, eyes wide and ears adorably huge, before she fingers a pair of white Mickey ears that have a bridal veil attached to them, contemplating its counterpart, the black ears for the groom, each ear emblazoned with a sparkling silver “Happily Ever After.”

She looks around. Where did Percy wander off to, anyway? 

Well, wherever he is, hopefully he hasn’t gotten mobbed by a horde of excitable fangirls. Given that she can’t hear any screaming--well, any unusual, non-Disneyland-relevant screaming--that’s probably a good sign. 

Running her fingers over the ear selections, she finally picks out a pair of silver sequined earrings with a shiny gold bow, a tiny, rhinestone Cinderella’s castle placed delicately in the middle. 

Yeah. This one. 

Percy finds her as she is paying for her ears, a pair of his own already on his head, red balloons inside of plastic circles. The sunglasses, she notes with a tinge of nervousness, are tucked in his shirt, and not on his face, protecting his identity. “Oh, check mine out--they light up!” he says, giddy, pressing the button on the side, not that she can tell in the brightly lit shop.

“That’s not why I was looking.”

Walking out of the store, ears firmly in her possession, she looks around again. Percy’s face is out there for the world to see, and no one is giving them a hard time. 

And her hat is really sweaty. 

Ah, fuck it.

She removes the Yankees cap, shaking out her sweaty curls, sliding the ears on in its place.

And the glasses, for good measure.

“Cinderella?” Percy asks.

“I thought you’d approve.”

Outside the shop, next to a corn dog cart, Percy pulls her aside, out of the way of a whole classroom’s worth of children, holding up a plastic plag. “So, confession.”

“Percy…” He didn’t. “We said no gifts!” They had agreed to it that morning!

“Well, see,” he says, fumbling around in the bag, pulling out a black t-shirt. “I saw this, and I thought--I thought you might like it.”

He unfolds it, and Annabeth frowns at the shirt design. 

It’s… a drawing of a man in a purple mask against a solid black background, glaring at the viewer. Circling him, in distressed, white-grey military font, are the words “BARON ZEMO,” and the logo for the show he must star in, Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. She doesn’t really watch superhero shows, though, and she’s pretty sure Percy doesn’t, either. Maybe he’s started this one and he really likes it? “Thanks,” she says, confusion coloring her voice despite her best efforts. 

But he doesn’t look too disappointed. “I was looking through their pride merch, and they didn’t have any stuff with the ace flag, which totally sucks, but then I thought that maybe you might like something a little more subtle? So, yeah.” He shakes it. “Ace pride!”

Oh. Oh, this boy. 

She remembers, so vividly, visiting his father’s summer home on Kalymnos, a few years ago, the summer she turned nineteen, waking up to a banging in the kitchen, noisy pots and pans making a real racket. Granted, it had been one in the afternoon, and Annabeth probably should have been awake sooner, but she had stumbled out of the guest room into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, to the sight of Percy wrestling with the standmixer, making bright, neon purple frosting. The night before, sometime around three or four AM, that weird, liminal hour where the shadow of night just starts to recede, the sky a sweet, soft, dusky blue, she had come out as demisexual to her best friend, saying the words aloud for the first time ever. Loopy from lack of sleep, the moment had passed without much fanfare.

But Percy, dark-circled and still yawning, had woken up early to make her a chocolate cake. By the time she had woken up, he had baked the cake, chilled it, and made two out of the three frosting colors, a beautiful, moist, dark chocolate cake which ended up being frosted with a marbled mix of purple, black, and white, all folding into each other into a kind of colorless, grey sugar. 

Here, now, in Disneyland, she throws herself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck. His arms automatically come up to circle her, hugging her tight. 

She had been worried it had been some kind of defense mechanism. A young girl with an alarmingly high profile, Annabeth had been the subject of intense scrutiny with regards to any romantic entanglements, with critics, tabloid reporters, and fans alike attempting to invent gossip-worthy relationships with every boy she ever talked to--most usually Percy. They did grow up in the public eye together, attending all kinds of events and functions together over the last fifteen or so years. And they did tweet at each other. Like, a lot. They even had their own portmanteau hashtag. But no relationship ever materialized.

She thought maybe she was just being stubborn, unwilling to play the media game. But it hadn’t been stubbornness. It wasn’t about shyness or inexperience. It was real, and it was her.

And Percy hadn’t even blinked.

“I love it,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he says, swaying her from side to side, just a little. “It was my pleasure.”

***

What’s happening: #percabeth (Entertainment • trending)

@kndrck__ STREAM CHROMATICA: um @TheraUS @SwedenRoyals i think i found your sick royals? #percabeth #disneyland

@wasabiviking: omg werent they supposed to be at some hospital opening today #percabeth

@ChampionSno brando he/him: LMAOOO NOT #PERCABETH PLAYING HOOKY LIKE IT’S ROMAN HOLIDAY

***

“Holy shit,” Percy moans, his mouth full of food. “Oh my God. Dear God in Heaven.”

Annabeth kicks his ankle under the table. “Don’t be rude.”

He swallows, eyes fluttering. “Oh my God, Annabeth. Holy shit. This is the best damn sandwich I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“A monte cristo?”

“A deep-fried monte cristo! In sweet batter!” Taking another bite, he moans again, just this side of indecent. “Oh my God I love Americans. They are absolute culinary geniuses.”

“Better than Bistrot Chez Rémy?” They had both been to Disneyland Paris, separately, sadly, and Percy had recommended the restaurant to her with great enthusiasm for her upcoming trip. As usual, he was spot on with his food recs. 

He nods, eyes closed in rapture. “By a mile.”

“You’ll have to learn to make your own when we get back home, then.”

He jolts, straightening up, cheeks full of food. Roughly, he swallows. “You’re right! I need to take notes.” And he takes out his phone, hurriedly typing down whatever scent and flavor notes he must be able to discern. “This is definitely challah…”

Plucking another piece of chicken with her fork out of her jambalaya, Annabeth lets her attention wander a little, content to watch the passengers on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride as they float on beside them, down in the artificially constructed bayou river. 

Truth be told, she’s kind of tired. They’ve been walking around all day, and even with the brief reprieve of rides, her shoes really aren’t the kind that deal well with huge amounts of walking. She can already tell that she’s going to crash, and crash hard, whenever they get back to their hotel. You know, if their security detail doesn’t eviscerate them first. 

When Percy had first presented his idea to her, she had agreed without hesitation. They had had a long, dense schedule of public appearances planned for their excursions to the states, and the days had begun to seriously wear them out. Together, they had worked out the kinks, coming up with contingencies, negotiating things to do, all over Discord so no one else would get wind of what they were doing. Prior to this trip, she hadn’t seen him in… probably almost a year. She knows his father had been keeping him close to home for whatever reason, and Annabeth had had a handful of official functions to deal with. Their paths just never managed to cross, up until now. 

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him. 

It’s lonely, growing up in the public eye. It’s cliche, but it’s true. And while Annabeth is afforded a metric ton of various intersecting privileges, she thinks she’d probably give it up in a heartbeat. It kind of sucks being a living, breathing tourist attraction. 

Growing up, she had her cousin Magnus, and a handful of other assorted children to play with, but she would never say that she had a best friend, or even a good friend, until she’d met Percy. Her mother and his father, famous for their mutual dislike, had put aside their differences to host some kind of charitable dinner for the disgustingly wealthy, and had trotted out their respective children in all their finery. Annabeth, being all of twelve years old, hadn’t really grasped the gravity of the event, and had gotten into an itty bitty little food fight with the then-unknown Prince Perseus, the result of an extramarital affair whom his father had so graciously decided to acknowledge and adopt. 

After that night, they became fast friends, and she decided that, if she ever left the royal life, she’d make sure to take Percy with her. He’s one of the few things that makes her life bearable. 

She thinks about it, sometimes. Renouncing her title. It wouldn’t exactly be hard. There was Magnus, just in line behind her. And it’s not like her family held any executive power anyway. They’re just fancy, historically interesting celebrities. 

Would Percy give up his, she wonders?

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

He looks at her oddly over their dessert, two vanilla-bourbon creme brulees. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Just tired. Long day.”

“You want to call it a night?”

She frowns. “What’s left?”

“Well, we did Space Mountain, Rise of the Resistance, Haunted Mansion, Pirates of the Caribbean, a few others,” he counts off his fingers, “saw the princesses, got Mickey ears, ate at Blue Bayou… I guess all that’s left is walking around the pier, if you want.”

“Sounds like you two had a full day.”

As one, they almost leap out of their seats, Annabeth choking on her spit. “Jesus, Zoe,” Percy pants, his hand over his chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh?” says Zoe Nightshade, the head of their security detail, who had just apparently materialized out of thin air. “Funny. I could say the same about you, sir.”

Coughing, Annabeth eventually manages to get her air back. “Hey, Zoe,” she wheezes. “How was your day?”

“Eventful. Let me tell you about it in the car.”

Annabeth glances at Percy, who’s looking a little bit like a deer in headlights. Honestly, she’s surprised they even made it this far without one of their own tracking them down. Still, it looks like their game is up. 

...Or is it?

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a large tour group, approaching on the horizon.

“Sure,” Annabeth says, getting up. Luckily, they’ve already paid, so they can just head out; they don’t need to wait for another big group of people to cross their paths. “Will you let us go to the bathroom, first?”

Zoe squints. She’s always been able to see through Annabeth’s bullshit. But Annabeth has her best, Percy-patented baby seal eyes on, perfectly innocent. Surely, Zoe wouldn’t deny them a physical need such as relieving themselves?

After a moment, she nods. “Make it quick, if you please.”

“Of course,” Annabeth says, looking over at Percy, hoping he gets the message. He stands up, slow and stiff, eyes darting between the two of them. “We’ll be right back.”

They wander through tables and chairs towards the bathroom, her eyes always on the tour group as it just starts to pass by. Reaching out, Annabeth grabs Percy’s hand, and with a turn that would make her track coach proud, sprints out of the restaurant, using the throng of people as cover. 

She thinks she hears Zoe yelling behind them, but maybe it’s just her own laughter. “Come on!” she shrieks, breathless, as Percy’s long legs keep pace with her. “To California Adventure!”

***

darthbingus said: the monarchy are fucking parasites but percabeth is pretty cute i guess :/

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: it’s obviously a publicity thing lmao, also prince Percy is gay???

eowynning reblogged and said: he’s dating rachel dare, right? he can’t be gay 

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: That was a publicity thing too obvs, and Annabeth hasn’t ever been linked to a guy. The king of thera is hardline greek orthodox, there’s no way he’d let his son come out publicly. They’re both gay and pretending to date because homophobia

lardoftheprks reblogged and said: people can be bi and ace and pan and all sorts of things you know

batgirlcock reblogged and said: can you animals leave them alone fr

***

Zoe only spots them after the ferris wheel starts moving. Sprinting over to them, they’re still a full forty feet off the ground by the time she reaches the operator. “Sorry!” she yells down to her, hands cupping her mouth. “We’ll be down in ten minutes!”

“Ananbeth!” he chokes, giggles still escaping him. 

“What?” she laughs. 

“We’re in enough trouble as it is!”

“Exactly,” she says, settling back on the ride. “You’ll probably be grounded for life.”

“Me?” he squawks, playfully offended. “What about you?”

She scoffs. “Please. I’ll just pin it all on you.”

Leaning back, he pouts, arms crossed. “Wow. I plan this amazing day, violate a few embassorial rules, and probably put both of our countries on a massive red alert, and this is the thanks I get?”

“I helped plan it, too.” But he does have a point. “Thank you,” she says. “I had a lot of fun today.”

He turns his head to her, a grin stretching across his face. “Me too.” 

His voice is so soft, so fond. They share a look, a moment, no words between them, only the silence of a true, deep companionship. They don’t need to say anything else, because they already know what the other would say. 

As one, they break away, looking back out into the California evening. 

They don’t talk much as the ferris wheel climbs higher and higher. Honestly, Annabeth is kind of impressed with how well he’s handling himself--she knows heights are a bit of a weakness of his. He grabs the edges of their gondola every once in a while as it drops a few feet, knuckles white and face a little green, but he manages to keep his dinner down, even as the ferris wheel grinds to a halt, Percy and Annabeth at the top of the world. The swing back and forth a little, hot faces against the cool evening breeze. 

And they stay there. 

And stay there. 

And… stay there. 

Annabeth checks her watch. How long have they been up here?

Percy taps his feet, a little too frantic just to be ADHD. 

Finally, there’s a burst of noise from below them, garbled and static. “Uh, yes, excuse me--” the voice says, amplified through a megaphone. “Yeah, um, it appears we are having some… uh, technical difficulties with the Pixar Pal-A-Round. Please remain calm, as we have our best technicians on it, and we are working on evacuating the ride in a calm and efficient manner.” Then the voice cuts out. 

Annabeth glances towards Percy. He has his hands in his lap, fists clenching and unclenching, over and over again. “Uh… you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, sure,” Percy says, “just fine. Peachy keen.” He squeezes his eyes shut, slowly blowing out his breath through his mouth. 

“Hey.” She reaches over, and takes one of his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. After a long day of holding hands, somehow it still manages to surprise her, how well they fit together, how her skin tingles as she rubs her thumb against his finger. “It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna be just fine. They’re going to get us off this ride, and then we’ll fly home and be grounded for life.”

“I thought,” he wheezes, “you’d blame it all on me?”

“As if you could come up with a plan as genius as hiding from our guard in It's A Small World.”

He nods, shakily. “Right. All you. Definitely not my idea. Everyone knows I’d have looped back to Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“Definitely.” She squeezes his hand, scooting a little closer. “Just breathe with me a little, okay?”

They breathe together, slowly and evenly. At some point, Percy takes her hand in both of his, running his thumbs over her palm, tracing her lifelines like a map. His hands are big, and warm, and it seems to calm him down a little, so she doesn’t mind all that much. 

Twilight darkens, stars twinkling against the grey, dusky sky, and still they are holding hands. Eventually, Percy relaxes, slumping against his seat.

“You good?” 

He nods. He still doesn’t let go. “Yeah. Just…” he sighs, stretching his arms up, taking Annabeth’s hand with him. “Not super looking forward to the dressing down I’m going to get.”

She winces. Annabeth’s dad is a little more flexible than Percy’s when it comes to breaches of protocol. The king of Thera is somewhat famous for his paranoia. “I hope it was worth it.”

He whips his head to her, eyes wide. “Of course it was worth it!” he says, as though the opposite were even fathomable. “You kidding? This was the best day of my life.”

“Better than your sixteenth?” His father had officially acknowledged him that day. Annabeth had spotted him in a deserted hallway with his mother, the two of them fighting off a few happy tears. She knows just how special that day was for him. 

“Not even close.” Squeezing her hand, he smiles again, that smile she knows almost better than her own by now. That smile she grew up with, a quiet oasis in a whirlwind of ancient tradition and modern media coverage. That smile is safety, familiarity. That smile was there to greet her when her mother chose to leave her family, when her uncle died without heirs, thrusting the position of heiress on her, whenever she had a rotten day or a bad grade or a lonely night, just on the other end of a phone, or down the hall, or in the kitchen. 

Whatever happens, she knows, Percy will be her best friend. Her anchor. 

Her…

She swallows. “Thank you,” she says again. “I needed this.” A day without an agenda. A day just for them. 

His eyes are dark, and soft, like the water beneath them. One hundred and fifty feet in the air in a broken ferris wheel, there’s nowhere safer she can be. “Me too.”

So she’s not really surprised at herself when she says, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Eyes widening, just a hair, he opens his mouth, momentarily speechless. “You--are you sure?”

She nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

“Cool. Uh, me too.”

“Cool.”

Neither of them move. 

“So, do--do you want to--”

Annabeth leans in, her other hand cupping his cheek, and kisses him. 

His lips are soft. His mouth tastes like vanilla and bourbon. They are trapped in a metal box, one hundred and fifty feet off the ground, about to get the punishment of their lives when they get down, and it is absolutely, utterly perfect. 

And when Annabeth pulls back, there are fireworks. 

Quite literally.

Percy’s face glows with pink and green and purple, and a little fire in his eyes that’s all him. The pops of the fireworks, loud and brassy, and muted, completely overshadowed by the pounding of her heart in her chest. 

They rest their heads against each other, breathing each other’s air, quiet and intimate, the calm before the storm that is surely coming. But that’s fine. Let it come, she thinks. She’ll be safe with Percy.

When the park technicians eventually get the ferris wheel moving again, Percy and Annabeth disembark from the gondola like nothing’s even gone wrong, waving to the crowd of people, fans, and reporters alike, who have swarmed the pier, phones and cameras held aloft in a constellation of light, before being quickly hurried away by Zoe and her crew, ushered to the end of the pier where Annabeth’s embassy’s car is waiting. 

Percy doesn’t let go of her hand once. 

***

KALYMNOS, GREECE--Prince Percy has arrived on the island for his family’s annual summer retreat, bringing his girlfriend, Princess Annabeth of Sweden, with him for the fifth year in a row, and the third as his official partner. Lifelong friends, the couple were most recently seen at Disneyland Tokyo, continuing something of a tradition for the two royals where they visit Disneyland parks across the globe. Our sources inside the castle are hinting that the family is planning something big this year. Could we see a proposal by the end of summer? Be sure to subscribe for more updates!

[nat-20s]

#10?

prompt 10- recognizing the other's voice in a crowded room

so uhh u didn't specify this being a pairing, and it ended up jonmartin lol

this is like? an au where one of the domains of the lonely (and also maybe stranger) plays off the specific loneliness that comes with parties. u kno the one, where you have fun for about an hour and then realize that you're fundamentally isolated and you need a breather?

anyway

~*~

Upon opening his eyes, he is not where he last remembers being. He is not sure how long his disorientation will last, but considering he's standing up right, at the edge of a crowded ballroom, he suspects it may be the entire time that he's here.

He had fallen asleep on the couch, the TV blaring away on a program he didn't know any of the details of. It hadn't mattered what was playing, as long as it had some of the natural rise and fall of other people speaking. He had been severely mising that lately, those gentle rhythms of conversation, and trying to listen to an audiobook while staring at his bedroom's popcorn ceiling just wasn't cutting it. So, TV dreaming it was.

Oh, that could be what was going on. An elaborate dream, constructed from the sound of a scenario he hadn't paid any attention to. He didn't think he'd fallen asleep watching anything to spark this kind of dreamscape, but that didn't mean much. It'd be oddly lucid, for a dream. And oddly sharp. His dreams, much like his memories, were always somewhat clouded over, and never as colorful as reality. Even his grayest waking days, of which there were many, had colors more distinct than what appeared in his mind's eye.

Simple test: he could never read or write in dreams. The words always swirled and distorted, and he somehow lost all manual dexterity. He needed a book, or a pencil, or both. He began to wander the ballroom, and abruptly realized that this was a masquerade, everyone wearing elaborate costumes with animal shaped masks. Did he fit in? Did he belong? He hoped he wasn't in what he fell asleep in, the worn hoodie and sweatpants barely worth making a grocery run in. The outside world wasn't supposed to see him looking comfortable, but presentable. He liked to think that if he left the apartment appearing at least somewhat put together, maybe people would believe that extended to other areas of his life. That it would be easier to ignore the increasingly dark circles under his eyes, that his nice sweater had been getting gradually looser as the tool of everything literally wore him down.

Small mercy, he wasn't like that now. A glance down showed that he was, like the rest of the guests? Captors? dressed to the nines. He has a suspicion that his own elaborate outfit, dark blues with gold and pearl embroidery, was a part of it. It was not a mercy to blend in here, it was a design element. Standing out would result in being noticed, being noticed meant being seen as an individual, and they can't have that.

It is with that line of thinking that he suddenly becomes aware of the weight of the mask on his face, the restriction of his sight through eyeholes. Looking into a teapot that's been polished to a mirrored shine, he see that he bears the incredibly crafted face of a field mouse. It would almost be plain, if it didn't have matching embroidery to his coat.

Fitting, he thought. It made him look smaller than he was, and he had so often wished to go unnoticed. A fly would've also worked, but he imagines it would be rather hard to make that into a suitably beautiful mask. Either way, he was level with the rest of the crowd. Even believing it to be part of the trick, even knowing that the masquerade was meant to make you false, there was some level of comfort to it. He was not going to be seen here. Instead someone more handsome, more charming, more even with his peers was allowed to take his place, as false as they were. Best of all, that's what all of them would be doing here, the whole appeal of a masquerade in leaving behind the person you loathe most and can never be free from.

Seems lonesome, for a party. So structured around the theater of it all. You can connect with countless people, and you don't get to actually connect with any of them at all.

Oh.

Oh, now this made all made sense. Crave interaction, and get a warped version of it.

He could see the napkins, emblazoned with a name that he didn't recognize, presumably the host, and, in much smaller font, the company name. Every one of them was consistent.

Easy enough to receive the message. This wasn't a dream. This was a punishment.

Hmm. Well, no, punishment might be the wrong term. Punishment implied that it was a consequence, a direct cause and effect of doing something wrong, by someone's definitions of "wrong". No this was. Torture is too strong of a word, and again, has the problem of making this seem willful. Deliberate. And maybe it was, but more likely, whatever this was had just sort of happened. A cruelty that comes with being in the universe they all happen to occupy.

This wasn't a dream. This was a consequence.

He doesn't know how to get out of here. He can't see any doors, and exits. The only approximation of one is some giant frosted glass that seem like they might lead to a balcony. They're only on the other end of the ballroom, but that lengths feels impenetrable, like it spans for miles and miles of harsh terrain.

There's a few options available to him.

One: Try to fall asleep, and see if he can get back to where he started. Lowest effort option, but he's pretty sure he hasn't been this fully awake in months. Maybe years. Something about the environment makes it feel as though electricity sparks throughout his entire body. It's an interesting sensation, certainly, akin to anxiety taken to an extreme degree, yet it's not particularly conducive to sleeping.

Two: Make a break for it. He doesn't know if there's anywhere to make a break for, but he also isn't sure how high up this place is. Maybe the balcony is a viable option for escape. Or maybe he'll find a door that had previously been hidden from him. Hell, maybe he won't fully escape, but he'll find somewhere quieter at the very least. Somewhere that he doesn't leave him so thoroughly dazed. This is probably the best option, even account for the wall of people surrounding him. But.

Option Three: Join the Dance.

Inadvisable. Foolish, really. The best outcome is..what? Is there a best outcome? Worst outcome is he's dancing forever, until his feet wear down to stubs of bone, until he dies, until he cant remember anything but the dance. Never a connection with any dancer, all of them, eventually, a blur of activity and nothing more.

Yet, it's what he's going to do. He's not the most curious person he knows, that honor goes to a man that he's been in love with for years, but can't grasp any of the details of while he's here. That can't be good. What was his name?

Anyway. He's not the most curious, but he's hardly immune to a detrimental sense of interest. He wants to know what the dance is like. He wants to see the intricate costumes of the others stuck here, and see if there's anything behind the masks. He knows it will, inevitably, leave him lonelier. He knows, inevitably, that he does not care. At least this version of loneliness is more interesting than sitting in his flat, wondering whether having thin enough walls to hear the echo of his neighbors' voices would make things better or worse. So, when someone approaches, adorned in a shrew mask, hand outstretched to pull him into the fervor, he accepts.

The dancer is competent. Neither of them steps on the others foot, and he lets himself be led. Even better, the dancer is willing to talk. A man named Tom, his voice cheerful even as he confirms that he doesn't know how he came here either. Tom shrugs when he asks if this bothers him, saying if you're going to end up somewhere mysteriously, gliding across a ballroom with a handsome stranger is hardly the worst place to be.

It takes a second for him to register the fact that Tom's flirting. It makes him laugh, and it feels wrong in his throat. The sound is unfamiliar, almost belonging to someone else, but it's brief enough not to hurt. He'll grieve all the time he's lost later, for now, he says, "How would you know if I'm handsome with this mask? Or are you just making a flattering guess?"

Tom opens his mouth to answer, a grin on his features that suggest something playful and wry is about to come out, but then the song ends. They both know, somehow, that the brief rapport they've gotten to enjoy has come to an end. They swap partners, and as much has he would like a second dance, when Tom gets swept into the throng, he knows he won't be seeing him again.

The next dancer is at a higher skill level at him, which results in nerves encroaching on what limited ability he has. Perhaps the peacock mask should've been a tip off. He doesn't speak to them, more focused on trying to keep up. He doesn't regret that they'll only have one dance, but he is slightly remiss that his own costume doesn't have feathers after watching the way they move.

The dancer after that catches him for a slow dance. Her name is Shelia, and he's never seen such a dazzling smile. He tells her as such, and she tells him that she would tell him the same, but she hasn't actually seen his own, yet. He makes an attempt, and she tells him, "Oh honey, you're waiting for someone here, aren't you?"

When he states his confusion, that nobody comes to mind, or at least, that nobody is going to come, she shakes her head. Apparently, she can always tell when her dance partners have somewhere else to be, and she doesn't resent it, but it does mean she's not going to give him her number for after the night ends. He's amazed she believes this night will end, but it's a sentiment that seems far too rude to voice out loud.

He also knows that he doesn't have somewhere else to be. If he did, he would've never joined in.

The music continues, and so does he. He tries to get names, tries to get connections. He flirts with Mark, and Nadia, and Jamie. Those people are his favorite during the dances, but losing the also feels the most acute. Robert is his least favorite, even more so than the peacock, for how incredibly small the fox makes him feel. Nothing is even said, it's just the entirety of body language screams that Robert doesn't think he belongs here, that he's not worthy of the clothes he's wearing or the hall he's haunting. Ironically, he's right. He doesn't belong here. These clothes, these people, are not his. Only Robert is quite so skilled at making that seem like a bad thing.

About ten dances in, long past the point he should be winded, he realizes two things. One, there's no pain in his feet, no heaviness to his breathing, confirming once again that no aspect of this environment is natural. Two, is that he's actually had a path. Sometime in the spins and leads and follows, he had been making his way towards the center of the floor. He denies the next partner, likely the worst of a faux paus in this environment, but he needs a moment to stop. Taking in the scene, he has yet to find the source of the music, but he has found the host of this party.

There's nothing to physically show that he's the host. His costume isn't particularly ostentatious, at least not compared to the rest of them. He's not surrounded by a horde of people clamoring for his attention. He doesn't glow or sparkle or have a spotlight on him. The only reveal of his status is the fact that the second he looks at the man in the owl mask, fear floods through him.

Now he needs to run. He needs to leave, he needs to get out, he can't let the man in the owl mask see him, let alone approach him. Pushing his way through the crowd is a bad idea, will bring too much attention to himself. However, he's not in a state to think about that sort of thing, panic gripping his actions. As he shoves his way past one person, he swears ten more people tke their place, and he, oh so close to despair, is unable to tell if there's any actual distance being put between him and the owl masked man.

As he's about to start biting, clawing, screaming his way out any way he can, he hears something that makes him stop.

"Let him go, or I will make you let him go."

The statement is cold, filled with vitrol and determination. It should only make him more afraid. But as he turns around, he sees someone he never expected to be here, someone who has come here anyway. In an all black outfit, the man's face is covered with that of a cat's, but he has not a single ounce of doubt as to who it is. And he's facing off against the owl man, the absolute fool. He's facing off against the owl man, and Martin knows that it's on his own account. What the hell? He can't...he doesn't know what's going to happen to him, what exactly the owl man is going to do, but he can't let Jon get hurt. Begging his voice to pierce through the pandemonium of people and noise, he calls out, "JON!"

Jon finds him in an instant, eyes locking. They only have a second before the crowd pushes in, before the owl man reaches out, wing-like cape ready to wrap Jon up and snatch him away. Jon simply calls out, "Balcony!" before he's once again out of sight. Martin wants to go towards him, wants to follow the instinct to try and protect the one he loves, but going forward is impossible.

The tempo and volume of the music has swollen, and he's surrounded by hands reaching out, trying to pull him in. One of those hands, much to his surprise, belongs to Tom. He stares, uncomprehendingly, and Tom shoves his hand out even further in an act of urgency. He has to participate to make progress.

He holds on tight, all the basic skill of their first dance lost. It doesn't matter, as long as Martin participates, he is rewarded. When the next song begins to play, Tom strengthens his grip, and they manage to prevent the switch. In a manner of minutes, or perhaps hours, they make their way to the edge of the crowd. Martin can see those beautiful frosted doors only about 10 meters away, mostly unobstructed, and releases Tom from their dance. "Thank you. I seriously didn't think..just, thank you."

Tom gives him a nod, his expression much more solemn than it had been during their initial meeting. "After our first dance, I remembered my kids. A daughter and son. If they're out there, wherever out there is, I need to get back to them. If you can get yourself out, maybe there's hope for the rest of us, yeah? I think you might be a tipping point."

Martin had no idea if that was true. Sounded a bit too..center of the story for him. The hero, the chosen one, he was never going to fufill those roles. But. But he doesn't know what a denial would serve, and if he can go through those doors, who knows? "Yeah...yeah, maybe. I'll certainly try."

Tom clasps one of Martin's hands between both of his own, and with a quick shake, tells him, "That's all I ask."

In a blink, Tom has once again been swallowed by the fray, and Martin strides to his goal. He catches glimpses of the owl man out of the corner of his eye. Despite the sight making his heart race, the owl man never makes it to him, almost as if the dancers had forcibly blocked his path. Fascinating, isn't it, how a crowd can turn against someone in a matter of moments. Fascinating, isn't it, how a crowd can decide to help someone in the same span of time.

As Martin stands in front of the exit to the balcony, he has to take a breath. This could be a trick. A trap. A cruelty. If it is, he'll deal with it. If not, well.

Well.

The doors are heavy, but he's still able to push them aside. The sight outside is incredible. The stars are dazzling, brilliant, and numerous, resembling themilky way that Martin has only ever seen in pictures.

It's wrong. It's obviously wrong. Martin's never been anywhere remote enough to escape the effects of light pollution, and he's pretty sure a brightly lit manor isn't the exception to that rule. Yet, that's not what's bothering him about it. He can't quite articulate why, but the sky in general should be..different. Worse, maybe. Greener?

Jon is staring up into the night sky with a fascination that confirms Martin's suspicion. After he takes a step towards him, Jon turns towards him, and a smile appears that knocks the breath right out of Martin. When has Jon ever smiled at him like that? It doesn't make sense, feels like another trick of the party, but Martin decides he doesn't care, he'll enjoy it while it lasts. "I have to say, this is definitely one of the nicer looking domains we've wandered through. Always a plus when we end up somewhere without any bloodstains."

That's not... "Huh?"

With an aftertaste of a laugh and a shrug of his shoulders, Jon tells him, "Just that, for as much as I despise the loneliness, it does at least have cleanliness going for it."

He knows of the fears, at least, but the way that Jon is talking about them doesn't make sense. He's going to ask about it, try to get some clarification, but then Jon takes off his mask. There's more grey at the temples than he remembers, more eyes than the average person, and he's stunningly beautiful. Martin's always found Jon rather good looking, even when he didn't particularly like Jon himself (god, what a fool he was. Maybe what a fool they both were). Combined with the softness in the line of his mouth, the adoration in his eyes, it leaves Martin breathless, speechless, thoughtless. Feet moving of their own accord, he drifts closer to Jon. Once he's standing in front of him, Jon reaches up, then pauses, as if asking for permission. Half in a daze, Martin nods, then leans down. Ever so gently, Jon lifts Martin's mask off. The pinpoints of contact between his face and Jon's fingers almost burn, and he realizes that despite the electrified sensation under his skin, he's been cold this entire time. Mask fully off, Jon beams at him, and lets out a quiet, "There you are."

It's too much. It's the tipping point for him to go from enamoured back to properly baffled. "Jon, I don't..what are you doing here?"

Jon smile drops, and Martin almost wants to take it back. Almost, because he needs answers, because if this is a dream, if this is a nightmare, it's more wicked than he could've ever expected. Being stuck forever in a dance with only partners whose greatest talents were being alone in a crowd is one thing, but having a..a false Jon, one that regarded him with...that acted like...that felt anything close to the same as Martin was so..exacting. When it got taken away, when the illusion shattered, it would hurt. It's already hurting, anticipation of the wound causing a phantom pain. Jon's brows are furrowed, and at least that is familiar, expected. "I..thought you would want to leave. I came to get you out."

"I do," did he?, "but that still..that's not the why? Why would you come for me?"

"Because I love you? I know I'm not much for the swashbuckling hero role, bit I figured that would make me rather uniquely qualified."

Martin sucks in a breath through his nose and his eyes go wide. Ability to read be damned, this is a dream, and mean one at that. He's going to wake up, and he's going to remember, and he's going to be as alone as he's always been. "Since when? You're not..I think we've just started being friends, and it's not even, fuck, we're not even that close! And even if..if things were in development, which they aren't, you're supposed to be in America right now. Or, no, wait you're in a coma, or maybe..no, that's not-"

Martin's spiralling is abruptly cut off by Jon taking his hands. Looking at his face, he finds Jon staring back, his eyes, his two eyes, are searching him, and Martin realizes he might not be the only one that's lost right now. "Martin...what's the last thing you remember?"

A mostly empty flat, the delightful mix of insomnia and exhaustion, and the TV with the volume turned down low enough to not bother anyone but himself. The context around that scene is a bit fuzzier. "I..was at my place. It was..I dunno, it was boring."

"Anything else. Do you remember Jane Prentiss?"

"Of course I remember Jane Prentiss. Not likely to ever forget the worst two weeks of my life."

"What about Scotland?"

Scotland? "I'm mean, I've never been, but I, uh, am aware of the concept."

Except that wasn't quite true, was it? He had been to Scotland, and Jon had been there, but when? Why? What had they..

Jon's frown deepens. "Martin, do you trust me?"

He did. Despite everything, or maybe because of an everything he couldn't quite access, he really, really did. His response of "Yes" is more of a breath than a word, but Jon understands nonetheless. Jon reaches up, places his hands on the sides of Martin's face, and tells him, "Close your eyes."

Martin does as told, and Jon brings their foreheads together, an approximation of a kiss. There's a buzzing at the base of his skull, not painful, but not particularly pleasant, either. As Jon leans back and he opens his eyes, the sky is wrong, but it is the wrong that he has become increasingly accustomed to.

He remembers.

Jon hasn't fully released him yet, asking still ever so gently, "Back with me?"

Martin nods, and Jon drops his hands. Immediately, Martin grabs one of them with his own, because while it may be the apocalypse, at least he can do that as freely as he likes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good, " he looks down, and sighs, "Eugh. Do miss the clean clothes though."

Jon gives a hint of a smile, and as he begins to move forward. "Now you understand my point about the lonely having a tidiness to it."

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'll take grime over memory loss any day."

"Next domain is a corruption one, so we'll see how much that holds true."

"Of course it is."

They walk in silence for a few moments until Martin gives Jon's hand a quick squeeze. "Hey Jon?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for getting me out."

Jon replies, "Of course," as an easy statement of fact, and Martin believes it. He has to add, "And I love you too."

The responding smile he gets from Jon makes him think he might be one of the few people in existence to feel lucky after the end of the world.

[sukiglycerin]

13 minutes || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero (therefore aged up)!katsuki bakugou x fem manager!reader

* genre: pro-hero!au, smut, this is the longest warning section i’ve ever written, mainly pwp, fluff at the end :>

* words: 2,266 of all this fiLTH

* warnings: AGED UP KATSUKI, ugh tumblr deleted my super long tags so now i must redo them, this is very long & filthy, whew let's go, dom!katsuki, sub!reader, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, office sex, reader is bent over the desk ofc, master/sir kink, a little pet play (he calls reader pet/kitten), dirty talk, degradation, fingering, breast/nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, orgasm denial (how contradicting), cunnilingus (f receiving), cum eating (both ends), talks of safeword/colour system but no actual usage, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl!!), creampie, reader is kinda masochistic, pussy slapping, crying sex (no angst here tho), hair-pulling (m receiving if it matters), implied subspace, aftercare !! the best part !!

* a/n: so tumblr messed up sO much while i tried to post this, so i hope you like this! ty @toishi for sticking with me and all of my ramblings while writing this! (and ofc @dylanxmin for her lovely support!!) this is a VERY spicy thing, and almost had actual plot before i cut it out. if you like this, i may do a fluffier pt 2!! enjoy!

being a pro-hero's manager has its perks. the pay's good, the coworkers are pleasant, and travelling is pretty fun. to you, the best part is that you get to see your boyfriend of three years every day.

you've been dating pro-hero ground zero secretly, and you happen to be his manager. honestly, the latter came first in chronological order, but that doesn't matter anyway.

you first encountered ground zero (or as he was called back then, katsuki bakugou) during your time in the business course at ua. he bumped into you quite ungracefully, cursed at you, pushed past you, then let a startled but apologetic kirishima to apologize. it was fate, in kirishima's words. 

such fate led you to manage ground zero five years ago, after slowly climbing your way up from managing smaller heroes to finally reaching the popular ones. bakugou had been the only popular hero with a manager opening; you learned why soon after being hired.

the spiky haired hero had a short fuse and a tendency to cuss. he was picky, indecent, and often reckless with his public image; the calmest you'd ever seen him was when he blew up villains and screaming "die."

however, things change - things change a lot. five years later, you're here: katsuki mumbling sweet things into the crook of your neck as his hands tease the waistband of your pencil skirt.

"katsuki, we can't- you have a meeting in fift- hng-!"

his lips find yours quickly, effectively quieting you down. you're sitting on katsuki's desk - a polished cherry wood thing that took too many weeks to find - as he towers above you, pinning you to your spot.

katsuki pauses, and pulls back, licking his lips. "sounds like a you problem."

"we really can't, this meeting is really important-" bakugou's fingers nimbly find their way under your skirt, deadly close to your panties. he really isn’t paying attention to you.

"and i'm the star of the show, the number one pro-hero-" if he hears you mutter 'that's midoriya,' he ignores you and continues, "-aren't i the most important one here?" his fingers rub your clothed clit, smirking at your audible gasp.

"k-katsuki, no-" you know he can feel the wet patch growing on your panties; from the way his determined eyes lock on yours, you know he won't be finished until you are too.

"how long do we have now, love?”

"thirteen minutes, but-"

"you're going to cum for me three times in the thirteen minutes we have."

it's not a question; it's a fact. you are going to cum three times in the next fifteen minutes.

“once on my fingers,” he puts a finger up, “once on my tongue,” another finger, “and once on my cock. the only thing you have to worry your pretty head about-“ he leans in close to your ear, voice dropping a couple octaves, “-is keeping quiet enough.”

his fingers push your panties to the side with ease and play teasingly with your wet folds. he circles your clit with his middle finger slowly, dragging out each languid movement with a smirk on his face. you flush at the lewd, wet noises he elicits from your pussy. you know that his fingers are coated in your arousal.

you look down in embarrassment, gripping the edge of the desk, and stare at the cotton material of your pencil skirt.

"slut." the word is spat from katsuki's mouth. his hand holds your chin; his touch barely ghosts your skin, but the command still exudes dominance. he tips his hand up, so you're looking into his intense eyes.

"look at me, slut." the word is emphasized by the plunging of three fingers in your wet core. you whine, unprepared by the sudden intrusion. your legs move uncomfortably against the fabric of your skirt, which restricts you from spreading open your legs wider. you want to clamp down on katsuki's hand, but you know that that won't end well.

"patience, kitten." either by intuition or his own frustration, he speaks up gruffly. "all in due time." his thumb starts to knead your aching bud as he thrusts in and out, knuckle deep in your pussy. glancing at the clock, he grows impatient, quickly attempting to unbutton your blouse before ripping off the rest entirely. you'd normally protest - you liked that blouse - but you find yourself falling short of words at the pressure on your pussy. katsuki goes at a more rigorous pace, thrusting fast and deep while his free hand snakes itself under your bra to play with your nipple. the added stimulation has you keening to his touch, suddenly aware of his every touch. he pulls your bra cup down, freeing your breast and bending down to to encapsulate the hardened bud in his mouth. his tongue circles your areola and flicks your nipple; meanwhile, his pace on your pussy hasn't relented. 

soon, you feel the telltale feelings of pleasure bubbling through your body.  you tense against him, gasping out his name and clawing at his back. your knees buckle as your climax washes over you, making your body go limp in his hand. bakugou lets go of your nipple with a popping noise, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. his other hand pulls out, and he outstretches three cum-soaked fingers to you, an unspoken code for "suck." you open your mouth obediently, sucking your salty juices off his slim digits. 

"fuck," he cusses, eyes blown out wide in lust. "so fuckin' obedient for me, hm? such a fuckin' whore for your master."

you let go of the fingers in your mouth and nod. 

his non-wet fingers grip the bottom of your skirt. "off. now." 

"yes, master." you feel his eyes pierce you, watching you unzip your skirt and panties and let them pool around your legs. he holds you steady as you step out of the garments and toss them to the side. 

"sit up." he taps the desk lightly.

"it'll get w-w-" 

"did i stutter?"

"n-no, master."

he hums while you acquaint your bottom with the cold, hard wood of his desk.

"colour system, love?" his voice gets soft and he breaks the hard persona. his eyes are gentle, searching yours for any speck nervousness or hesitancy.

"green for 'i'm good, keep going,' yellow for 'slow down,' and red for 'stop.'"

"and if you can't speak?"

"three taps for red, two for yellow."

"what's your colour right now?"

"green, master."

his face hardens at the title. "always a good pet for me, aren't you?"

you nod. "yessir."

he spares another glance at the clock on the wall. "you're going to be a fucking good slut for master in the next 7 minutes, understand?"

"y-yessir."

"what was that, pet?"

"yessir."

"better be. spread." his fingers gesture to your legs.

he kneels before you, your drenched core spread out and on display for him at eye-level.

"so wet," he marvels, making your face heat up. like this, you're completely exposed to him; your breasts free from your bra, nipples hard against the cool air, and your pussy glistening under the light of his office.

he licks a long stripe up your folds, testing the waters. by now, the original intensity of your previous orgasm had worn off; despite this, when his tongue met your clit, you found yourself reaching for his hair, gripping it tightly. he groans into your pussy, poking his appendage through your folds and administrating kitten licks up and down your inner lips to slurp up whatever juices were left. the teasing doesn't last for long, however. he starts to suck harshly on your clit, making you buck into his face in overstimulation and surprise. you cry out at his unceasing ministrations, tugging on his hair and your toes curling. the overstimulation is too much; pain mixed with white hot pleasure blinds you. the lips closed against your clit go hard; you're not even sure how katsuki can breathe going at such a pace. the pain starts to blend into pure pleasure. you throw your arm over your mouth in attempt to stifle your noises, eyes shut tight. you feel tears line your eyes as you cum again, katsuki's tongue pressed flat against your pussy. the pleasure is five times more intense now; you cry out, sure anyone standing outside heard, and clutch katsuki's hair as you recover from your orgasm. your pussy convulses violently, and you pant in a similar manner.

"k-katsuki- master- i-" you breathe hard.

"one more for me, okay?" he rasps into your ear. "i know you can take it, kitten. so good for me..." his chin and lips shine with your essence.

you nod, spreading your sore legs further apart.

"colour?" he checks, hands starting to reach for his belt.

"green."

he nods and unbuckles, pulling his pants and boxers down to reveal his cock. katsuki leans in, hot breath fanning against you as he peppers kisses on your clavicle.

"you're gonna be a good cocksleeve for master, yeah? gonna be all fuckin' tight and wet for me?"

you whimper a shaky "yes," the head of his cock nudging your folds.

he eases his full length into you, the stretch always being something you always need to get used to. katsuki's not particularly girthy, but for what he lacks in girth he makes up in sheer length. he pushes in gently; it's clear on his face he wants nothing more than to ravage you, but he understands your needs.

"f-fuck," you gasps as he bottoms out. 

"ring ring ring," the tone of katsuki's phone rings through the room.

you lean over the desk, reading the caller id.

"it's horikoshi corp?" you say to katsuki.

"pick it up." there's a mischievous gleam in his eyes, but there's no time to dwell on it before you pick up the call.

"is this the office of ground zero?" a male voice asks through the line.

"yessir-" katsuki starts moving inside you, to which you bite your lip. "h-how can i help you?"

"this is regarding the meeting scheduled for today?"

"y-yes?" you gasp, flinging a hand over your mouth as bakugou starts thrusting into your core roughly.

"i'm terribly sorry to say this, but it appears that our boss has come down with food poisoning from lunch."

"don't- don't worry about it-" your knuckles are white gripping the edge of the desk, and you're slightly bent over it.

katsuki continues to hammer into you, speed increasing quickly.

"could we reschedule to friday, at 1:30pm?"

your mind skims through katsuki's friday schedule. "u-um... y-yes-! that can be arranged..." you're not sure if he can hear the wet slapping noises coming from your end of the line - but the thought of him knowing your dirty deeds with katsuki made you even wetter.

"alright, thank you!" the man sounds relieved. "goodbye."

"bye!" you half slam the phone down on the receiver, chest heaving.

"it's your lucky day, huh, kitten?" katsuki purrs smoothly. 

you nod, pressing yourself onto his desk so you're bent over it for him.

"such a fucking slut," you can hear the pride in his voice. "you like that, yeah? i can feel you clenching all around me. you're my fuckin' cockslut, right?"

your head bobs rapidly up and down. "yes, master- i'm-" you feel the familiar heat start to bubble in the pit of your stomach.

"don't you dare fucking cum yet," he growls in your ear, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust.

he presses you even harder into the desk, your breasts pushed up against the cold wood. 

"k-katsuki...!”

"my little pain slut, isn't that right?" 

"y-yes-! f-fuck, master-" 

he slaps your clit, making a loud, wet sound resound through the room.

it almost sends you over the edge. almost.

"don't- cum-" katsuki grunts in between thrusts.

you're so close it almost hurts. the pleasure overwhelms you; you shut your eyes tight to distract yourself, but you can only hear the sound of katsuki's heavy breaths and his cock slamming into you.

"katsuki- master- please, i can't-" tears start to form in the corners of your eyes. the pleasure is just too much, beating into you incessantly.

"you can, and you will," he orders, voice firm.

"k-ka- ka-" you blubber, tears dropping from your cheeks. you know you won't be able to hold it much longer; your pussy aches in need of release. "pl- pl, ka-"

"cum." it was the only word you needed to find yourself toppling off the edge, euphoria rippling over you violently.  tears stream down your cheeks, cum gushing from your heat. you're as limp as a doll in katsuki's arms, slumped against his desk. your pussy throbs, contracting violently - somewhere amidst your orgasm, katsuki had finished as well. your cheeks are wet, blouse thrown somewhere on the ground. your breathing is shaky as katsuki picks you up, stroking your hair delicately.

"hey, honey," he kisses your forehead softly.

you mumble incoherently, eyes drooping shut.

"you did so well for me... i didn't hurt you, did i?"

"no, 'suki.... 's good.... i liked it a lot..." you nuzzle into him, his body warmth comforting. katsuki smells of vanilla and caramel, a sweet combination that feels undeniably like home. 

you don't remember many of the next events well; everything blurs into a haze. you feel him gently thumbing your tears away, slipping your skirt and panties on and buttoning up one of his extra dress shirts on you.

the last thing you hear is a gentle "i love you," and before you know it, you're drifting asleep.

[confused-stars]

Kurogiri’s Nanny Service - Part Three: Monoma

(part one) (part two)

It's a comfortable rainy afternoon, and three kids are huddled over a pile of wallets, watches and jewelry on the floorboards of Kurogiri's bar.

Keigo's small wings are puffed up in pride as Himiko admires a bracelet, rhinestones shining in the dim light when she turns it this way and that.

Tomura seems more invested in the wallets, going over the business cards and such with interest, and piling off the money and credit cards separately from the rest of the treasures.

He pauses to stuff a bill into his pocket, and Takami, who is sprawled out in a nearby booth, pries one eye open. "If you wanna have sticky fingers, you gotta be more subtle about it, brat."

How he noticed is beyond Kurogiri entirely. But it's been a point of contention how terrible Tomura really is at stealing. Or any kind of subtlety. He was never trained for that, with his sensei always telling him to just take what he wants by force, but he gets frustrated that Takami seems to catch him every time.

Keigo pouts, even as Tomura puts the money back. "C'mon, To, that's my hard earned haul! You don't even need money."

Tomura rolls his eyes. "Neither do you, beakface. Kurogiri would take care of your stuff, too, if you asked him."

Keigo's hand flies up to his nose and he makes an affronted noise.

"Not how that works, baby bunny," Takami interjects, "Villains don't wanna owe debts. Even to their friends." He gives Kurogiri a glance. " 'specially to their friends."

Kurogiri meets his gaze evenly. "Does that mean I can expect you to pay your tab today?"

Takami throws his head back and laughs as if that was the funniest joke he ever heard.

The children giggle, too.

Traitors, all of them. How is he ever going to make honest villains out of them like this?

Kurogiri decides not to complain about it, because he's the adult here and he'll act like one.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. He knows better than to ignore it, so he glances at the text he's received. It's just coordinates. That's nothing unusual. In fact, it's more common than getting sent actual words as instructions.

"I have to go," he says, already creating a portal in the air.

The children don't even react beyond small noises of acknowledgement. They're already more than used to this, too.

It's only Takami's eyes that bore into the side of Kurogiri's head as he steps through the portal, sharp and predatory. He's been asking questions about the man in charge of Kurogiri and Tomura recently. He's suspicious.

Kurogiri is not allowed to tell him more than necessary, but he understands the concern. Takami is bringing his child here, after all.

And the concern might not be unfounded - Keigo is passionate and clever, already skilled at pickpocketing, and his quirk is incredibly useful and versatile. If he weren't considered a possible future asset, Kurogiri doubts that All for One would be allowing this to continue. He's always been strictly against Tomura socializing with other children his age, or anyone at all. And now he's allowing both Keigo and Himiko. Not to mention the fully grown, dangerous villain. Tomura has never been happier, never been more stable. There has to be some kind of plan at work here that Kurogiri can't see yet. Some kind of additional angle.

The portal vanishes behind Kurogiri; that strange tension of using his quirk, of stretching it out like a well-trained muscle, dissipating at once.

He's standing in a nondescript room that he's been to many times to pick up objects to transport, or have a meeting with All for One outside of his main base of operations. Sometimes they keep prisoners in here.

This time, though, it's empty save for All for One and a small child.

Kurogiri immediately feels part of him soften, even as his guard goes up.

The boy looks to be maybe Himiko's age, six or seven, with neatly combed, blond hair and startlingly grey eyes that look awfully familiar.

"Introduce yourself," All for One says in that gentle tone he usually reserves for Tomura alone.

The child bows politely. "Hello. I'm Monoma Neito, it's nice to meet you." His words and tone are carefully formal, but there's a slight clumsiness in the way he speaks. It's, frankly, adorable. And nothing Kurogiri is used to. None of his children have manners.

"I am called Kurogiri," he replies, "It is a pleasure to meet you as well."

"Are you made of that stuff?" Neito asks pretty much immediately once the very basic niceties are done with. He waves his arms at Kurogiri's form to indicate what he means.

It's a good thing Kurogiri is used to Himiko. And the other children's bluntness, too, to some degree.

"... for the most part," he replies, and then gives All for One a questioning look.

"Neito is my grandson," his master explains, and Kurogiri can't find it in him to be shocked. They do look similar enough. "His parents are out of town on most weekends," All for One continues, "So I offered your services."

Kurogiri wants to sigh. He's not actually a nanny. Is he? If even All for One is treating him like one, he might as well put up a sign. (Tomura hardly counts, Tomura is his boy.)

"Of course." He bows his head. Neito seems well-behaved anyway, it shouldn't be much trouble.

___

Fifteen minutes later, there's a small boy hanging off of Takami's wing by his teeth, and Kurogiri has very little recollection of how they got here.

"I hate your job," Takami laments, shaking his wing with very little gentleness in an attempt to make Neito let go.

Kurogiri reaches out to hold his wing in place, and Takami freezes.

"I... apologize. I was under the impression he was a little better behaved than this." He gently nudges Takami to sit down, his wing spread out, and Neito ends up finally letting go once his only other option is to end up sprawled on the floor.

"You can't just bite people!" Himiko chides, "Even if it'll feel nice, it won't be nice for them."

Neito breathes, then shakes himself. "Your quirk is weird!" he complains.

Kurogiri nods in sudden understanding. All for One told him about this, before he left them to their own devices.

"Neito, you should not copy someone's quirk without knowing what effects it will have on you. Or at the very least you should test it in a safe environment."

Neito crosses his arms. "This is safe."

Kurogiri sighs. "Yes, it is, but you still didn't give a warning. The adults that are taking care of you need to know when you're experimenting, so we can keep you from getting hurt," he explains.

"Or ourselves," Takami grumbles.

Neito huffs. "Fine." He doesn't apologize. Kurogiri doesn't make him. He somehow doubts All for One would approve of that - he never apologizes for anything, after all.

The wing Kurogiri is still holding onto pushes against his hand.

Kurogiri glances at Takami, curious, but the thief is very pointedly avoiding his gaze.

He always tells Keigo he's 'too trusting' when he lets the other kids touch his wings, and Kurogiri has never dared to. Much less touch Takami's. It just happened on instinct this time.

The wing pushes against Kurogiri's hand again. The upper edge of it feels strong and warmer than Kurogiri expected. The feathers here aren't particularly soft when Kurogiri runs his hand along them. Not as soft as he imagines the down feathers to be, anyway.

Not that he's going to try to find out. That would be wholly inappropriate.

"You're cold as fuck," Takami complains, but he's not at all pulling away, and Kurogiri continues, trailing his hand down lower to the longer secondaries that make up most of the actual wing.

"My apologies. It's my quirk." Must be. His quirk is highly complicated and has more layers to it than he can count. Sometimes he gets strangely upset that he's not able to give Tomura warm hugs. Not that Tomura enjoys physical contact much, anyway, but Kurogiri feels like he should be able to give him some warmth, and his body under the ever-wavering vapor is cold as a corpse's.

"Your quirk sounds like a pain in the ass," Takami murmurs, "But at least it looks cool."

Kurogiri chuckles. "I'm flattered you think so."

"You got a real face under there somewhere?" Takami cranes his head back to eye Kurogiri skeptically. "Your hands feel solid enough."

Kurogiri gives a half-shrug in answer. "There's... something underneath. But I don't know what it looks like. The mist never fades."

"Mysterious... hey, can you pull out that crooked feather over there? 's itchy as all hell."

The preening thing is another family activity that Kurogiri has avoided so much as commenting on in the past. Now, he carefully tugs at the feather that's standing out from the rest of them, until it comes loose and Takami sighs in relief.

"Yeah, fuck, that's better."

"You said fuck," says Neito, behind them, and Kurogiri nearly jumps. He hadn't thought the children were paying any attention to them right now.

"Twenty minutes to corrupt a child, you're beating your own records," he says dryly to Takami, who cackles and reaches out out ruffle Neito's hair, but the boy steps back and frowns at him.

Neito is very well-kept, and Takami is kind of... well, grimy. And scary-looking. Kurogiri doesn't blame him.

"Aye, and I'll say worse words, so you better get used to it, li'l chompers."

Neito's nose crinkles when his frown deepens.

"Don't tease the child," Kurogiri scolds, feeling not for the first time like he shouldn't have to take responsibility for Takami, the thirty year old adult.

Then again, he somehow doubts that anyone taught Takami manners during his own childhood.

"Hey, why can't I be chompers?" Himiko complains, tugging at Takami's other wing like there's nothing to it. Her hands are probably sticky with something, as usual, but Takami doesn't move away.

Maybe he's not that terrible with children.

"Ah, 'cause you wanna be. It's no fun when you like the nickname," Takami explains, picking her up and plopping her down into his lap.

"I actually really like mine!" Tomura says from atop the bar.

Takami snorts. "Once we teach you decent thievin', next point of order is makin' you not be a shit liar."

Tomura huffs, crossing his arms. "I don't need to know how to lie. Sensei never lies."

That gives Takami pause. His eyes meet Kurogiri's, and he pulls his wing away, folding both neatly against his back.

"Yeah, I'm sure he doesn't."

[lovecanbesostrange]

It started with an ask on konako’s blog, that led to a small scene with Red kneeling before the Evil Queen. (x) That was almost Red Queen fun. But it spun into something very dark, because the Evil Queen did capture Red and torture as punishment followed (this goes into dead-dove territory, you are warned, it’s messed up). Here are 4k words of what happened in the palace dungeon afterwards (spoiler alert, excessive use of silver):

summary: Red made the Evil Queen look foolish and gets utterly destroyed for it (graphic depictions of violence included)

Finally a little triumph. The Evil Queen went down the stairs into the dungeon. Every step of her well-shined heeled boots echoed loudly from the stone steps. Sometimes she wished she had more patience to make good use of the cells down here. But she was bored too easily not getting answers and the prisoners died quickly. Her torturer barely had anything to do. Why did she even pay him anymore? (Did she pay anyone in the palace? They were allowed to live and had nice enough accommodations and food, for sure that was enough.)

But now Regina wanted to take all the time in the world. Her knights had captured that wolf woman! After the bloodbath she had caused weeks ago that made Regina look foolish, she would enjoy their time together now. And it would send Snow White a message in the end.

Two guards were posted outside the cell and two inside. Of course knowing they dealt with a werewolf made handling the prisoner easier. For one the full moon was a couple of nights away. And silver was easy to come by to keep her in line. Regina had also instructed her blacksmith to forge some chains in preparation for when she would be captured. It had been a priority task.

When Regina entered the cell she smiled and took in the sight. Red was chained up in the middle of the room. She was stripped down to her undergarments, her clothes on the floor, except for her cloak that was draped over one of the tables. Her arms were raised above her head, wrists bound by the heavy cuffs each connected to a chain going through a loop in the ceiling and then stretching all the way to a bolt in the wall. Her ankles were cuffed as well, a short heavy chain in between so she couldn’t take any significant steps. Not that she could run away, since her toes barely reached the ground. Red had to carry her weight in her arms, shoulders.

“Well, well, well, so we meet again.” Regina took her time to enter and circled Red, who tried to follow her with her eyes. “You made quite a spectacle the last time.”

“Do you want an apology?” Red’s voice was firm. Too firm for Regina’s taste.

“I don’t think you could muster up an honest one. You’re a deceiver.” Regina stopped in front of her. “Begging for those peasants’ lives and then killing my men.” She grabbed Red’s chin with her thumb and index finger. “You said there was no need for bloodshed and you happily slaid them anyway.”

“I wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t tried to take me.”

“As if you thought I would let you walk away from there.” Regina looked closely into those green eyes. Was the bravado real or just posturing? “Don’t get me wrong, the way you killed those men without a second thought was impressive. I can admire that. But the humiliation it would have been to return to the village and enact punishment, admitting to being defeated that day - I can’t let that slide.” She slapped Red across the cheek.

Red closed her eyes and didn’t turn her face back up. She was glad the villagers had been spared. Regina didn’t know how long she had stuck around to make sure there was no retaliation. And whatever was about to follow, would have been worth it. Snow had her plans to strike and they were close to luring the Queen into a trap. But every day more innocent people could die and Red could not sit by. She owed it to the victims of the wolf to use her strength for good now.

She heard Regina take a few steps back and looked again. The cloak was in her hands now. “Do you have any other name or should I just call you Red. Not very original, is it? Naming yourself after a bit of fabric.” Her fingers traced the patterns. “I sense magic in this. But I guess asking about it will not bring me answers, right? Just like any of Snow White’s plans won’t leave your lips.”

Statements. The Evil Queen had made up her mind already, questions weren’t part of whatever this encounter was. Red turned her hands around and tried to get a grip on the chain, change her position the slightest bit to take some strain off of her already burning shoulders.

“Do you know there isn’t much to find in books about your kind?” Regina exchanged the cloak for something else from the table. It reflected a bit of the amber light emitted from the fireplace and Red could see it was a simple dagger. “The one thing that is said over and over though is your weakness towards silver. I’m curious. Is it just the metal or wounds inflicted by it?”

Red already clenched her jaw before Regina put the blade against the skin on her upper arm, preparing to get cut. But instead Regina pressed the flat side on her skin first. Definitely silver. Pure. Red felt the effect in a matter of seconds and bit down, grinding her teeth.

Regina stood close again, caught her eyes with her gaze and kept pressing the blade against the tender side of her arm. “Don’t worry, I will write down everything I’m about to do here, so the books can add a chapter about how to break a wolf when in their human form.” And with that she turned the dagger and cut the skin. Red flinched, more from the shock than the actual pain. It was a relief actually to have the silver leave her.

“Are there noteworthy differences between a cut with this,” Regina lifted the dagger, “and a normal blade?” She gestured towards one of the guards and he immediately unsheathed a dagger from his boot. Without hesitation Regina reproduced the cut on the other arm. The blood almost tickled as it ran down. “Oh no, I’m making a mess. Getting blood out of clothes is such a hassle.”

Regina let one of the daggers fall down and with the other cut along the seams of Red’s top half of what she was left wearing. Red closed her eyes again as she felt air hit her exposed body. She knew which weapon Regina held and she could feel the silver being drawn over her skin, over her collarbone, between her breasts, down to her navel. The point barely left a scratch, but the offending metal felt like being brushed with a nettle. Red took in deep, sharp breaths through her nose.

That reaction was exactly what made Regina go slower with her movements. It wasn’t the sharpness that left the light red mark, no, it appeared the longer she held the blade in place. What an interesting sight to watch. Regina brought her free hand up to Red’s chin again, this time squeezing her jaw with her palm, digging her fingers into her cheek. Red looked at her again.

“You know, the longer you resist, the more adamant I will be to make you scream. That is how these things work.” She brought the dagger up to Red’s forehead, this time with the edge to cut into her skin again. It took a few seconds, but then the blood running over her eyebrows made Red blink.

“Can you hold this for me?” With that she wedged the silver dagger between the torn clothes and Red’s hips. Red squirmed trying to get away, but the blade touched her thigh ever so slightly. “I learned a valuable lesson the other day. A blacksmith works with iron. Like those chains holding you. Not used to working with silver. You would have to ask a silversmith about it. I even found one and he is working on special silver cuffs for me. Or rather, for you.”

Regina stood at the table again, her back to Red. When she turned around she held up a necklace. “So for now, I have to settle for delicate jewelry instead of the collar you deserve.” Under any other circumstance Red would have admired the piece. Obviously the star-shaped ornament was meant to hold a gemstone in place, a diamond or a sapphire, but this was stripped down to the silver components for one purpose only. “So you will get used to a leash later,” was all Regina added as she put it around Red’s neck.

Red held on. Her skin was crawling all over, the itch on her thigh burning already, but she tried to stay as still as possible. She couldn’t do anything against the tears forming in her eyes, betraying her brave face though.

Regina stood before her, brows furrowed. “Your healing isn’t as fast. I will need to wait hours to compare those cuts on your arms. There is something I am forgetting.” She rubbed her temples, feigning to think. “Oh, of course, I need a point of reference!” A clap of her hands alerted the guard. “You, get the girl from next door.” Red’s eyes went wide.

“No. Wait. You don’t need to drag anybody else into this.”

Regina stepped closer and slapped her across the cheek again, harder this time. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion and you will stop being so informal around me!”

“Yes, Your Majesty”, Red quickly gathered herself. “But please, there is no need-” But she already saw a frightened young girl being pushed into the cell. About her height and weight, seemingly healthy. For now. The girl fell to the floor and cowered there.

“I caught her stealing, so normally she would already be dead. But she can be of use for me.” Regina put a hand into her hair and yanked her head up, to make her look at Red. “Or do you want her dead right now?”

The terror Red felt was mirrored on the girl’s face. Was there a chance of survival for her? She was ready to beg for her life; to lie on that table where Regina obviously had more silver tools; to take any punishment herself. “No,” Red whispered. Another yank at the girl’s hair. “No, Your Majesty.”

“A fast learner.” She pushed the girl into a chair with cuffs on the armrests. Seating her in front of Red. The girl trembled and looked to the floor. Red tried to pull at her chains, but it only sent a jolt of pain through her shoulders.

Regina paced the room. After a while she came up behind Red. “Your shoulders must really hurt by now. Let me help you with that.” Her fingers played with the necklace and Red hissed. Shifting it around made the pain more noticeable. “The plate.” She said towards the guards. Behind Red a wooden plate leaned against the wall. A thin metal sheet on one side, coated in silver. She knew that before the guards shoved it under her feet. The wood added a few inches so in theory this took some of the weight off her shoulders, but the soles of her feet would soon itch, turn red, swell, hurt and most likely blister. She tried to balance on the outside of her feet only, to not hurt everywhere all at once.

“Do you know what the second thing is that some texts suggest to use against a werewolf?” Silence. “Oh, that was a genuine question directed at you. Do you know?”

“Fire.” Red answered between breaths. Her mouth was open now, it was dry. She didn’t dare to fully fill her lungs, because that made the necklace move. The attack on multiple parts of her body with the silver was starting to overwhelm her.

“That is correct. You know your weaknesses it seems.” Regina conjured a fireball in her hand. “Fire is pure. It doesn’t discriminate. It can be very elegant.” She stepped closer to Red, hand outstretched so she could feel the heat of the flame. “How fast can you heal a burn wound?”

“I don’t k-” Red couldn’t finish that sentence, because Regina held her hand to her side now. A scream was all that escaped her lips. The fireball wasn’t cast, but the flame burned her flesh. Red clenched her fists and tried to step away, the chains around her ankles making a screeching sound dragging over the silver plate. There was no escape, because Regina just followed with her hand. She closed her hand and the fireball vanished. Red went slack, her breathing sped up. The only good thing was that in this commotion, the dagger had gotten loose and fallen to the floor.

Red sorted out her senses, trying to gather her bearings, when she heard the girl scream. Louder, more fearful, indicating the horrible pain she never felt before. Regina had torn her clothes and burned her at the exact same place on her body. For reference. Red couldn’t put the horror of it into words. Would it indeed be better for the girl if she was dead already? She didn’t even know her name.

And Red didn’t learn her name over the next few days, because whatever happened, she would not talk to her. Regina had strictly forbidden it and the rotating guards would hit her at a single word. It was almost comical. Red’s body went numb. Cuts, rashes, bruises, welts, burns, scratches. It came and went. The pain was a constant throbbing, she got repositioned a few times, but it felt like she would never use her arms on her own accord again. But whatever happened to her, the girl looked worse. Red did heal faster from any wound not dealt with silver. But it did take a lot from her regardless. She lost track of time. What was sleep? Any kind of shame about being naked had vanished. Instead of clothes her body was covered in forming scars, marks and blemishes.

Red tried to count the rotations of the guards, to get any kind of feeling for the passing days. It was only days, right? It felt like forever. Silver on her skin somewhere at all times, lashes from a whip, getting burned with a torch, red hot iron, and so many cuts to make her bleed. The worst still a long deep wound on her right cheek, starting at her ear right to the corner of her mouth. When they allowed her some water, it even hurt to swallow.

Later Red found out it had been five days in total. It seemed like a small window of time. But the Evil Queen lived up to her name. Especially on day four, when she left permanent damage. While Red was mostly kept standing up, the girl was strapped to the chair. Not that she had any energy left to walk out of here, even if they’d opened the door for her. Regina stood behind her and pulled her head back.

“Just look at me, I’m sure this won’t hurt you.”

Red looked on as Regina dripped liquid into one of her eyes. The girl flinched, but that was a reflex. None of her sounds of discomfort or pain left her throat. That made Red more nervous than she would admit. And she was right to be.

“Just as I thought. Look at that, barely irritated.” She pushed the girl’s head forward, her eye teared up, maybe a bit reddened.

Regina walked around her and caught Red’s gaze. “Such beautiful green eyes. Quiet unusual. Of course not as remarkable as the wolfish gold, is it?” The way she kept staring was unnerving and Red’s breathing already picked up. Fear. In a short amount of time she had learned what fear truly was.

“Hold her steady.” A guard came and grabbed Red’s head from behind. Panic sunk in and she started to squirm, tried to turn her face away, to wiggle out of his grip. She wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but she knew she wanted out. Right now. No more pain, she couldn’t take anymore. But she had to.

Regina got a few drops out of the vile, into Red’s right eye. “Don’t worry, it’s mostly water. Just a tiny bit of silver dust mixed into it.”

Red pushed her body back as hard as she could, but her mangled feet had no grip, it was more like leaning into the guy. No force to get him off. And then the pain started. It felt like a needle prick. And all of a sudden the colors exploded in Red’s sight. Everything was sharper, the light from the fireplace brighter. She knew her eyes turned golden like before she would transform. It had happened a few times, when highly agitated. Now it was a physical response.

Regina laughed. “I did not expect that.” She met Red’s terror with fascination. More needle pricks in her eye, the urge to rub it away. Red pulled at her chains, she wanted to press the palm of her hand against her eye and get the irritating feeling out. But there was no chance. All Regina saw was the golden color and Red gasping for air, holding back a scream. The hitched breathing was a good enough tell that this hurt.

Worse than the pain that kept sinking in was the way Red started to see white dots, blind specks in her vision. Three, four, five, more and more. She blinked, her tearducts fighting off the intrusion, but the silver too strong an opponent. Red clenched her jaw and groaned. She let out a growl from deep within, filled with frustration and pain. It was more of a bellow than a scream. Regina smiled at that.

While Red’s left eye got back to its human green, the right eye stayed golden, a misty layer clouding the bright hue. It drew Regina’s full attention, while it would be weeks for Red to discover the permanent change. Blinded, only noting a change between light and darkness. Her eyeball feeling like it was rubbed with sandpaper made the rest of the day seem like nothing. Time moved on

And then unthinkable happened. The chains were loosened completely, the cuffs came off. Red tried to curl up on the floor, but she could barely move her joints. Everything hurt too much. But Regina laughed. “Remember that I said I will make you beg for more than mercy? How about you ask me to end her suffering?”

Red looked up. Trying to adjust to the impaired vision. As bad as she felt, the girl looked worse. “Please…”, the girl said and the guard standing behind her, hit her against the head immediately.

It took everything Red had to turn herself upright, to bend her knees and sit on them. To kneel before Regina again. No side eye, no hint of a smirk, no failsafe. The burn marks hurt worst next to the chafed skin around her neck from the necklace that was also gone now. “Your…” Red was shaking, she had to cough trying to speak. “Please, Your Majesty. End her suffering. I beg you. Please. It’s enough… enough…” And with that she fell down again.

“Pathetic.” Regina’s verdict was cold as ice. “And to think I had a gift for you just now. Guards.” They stood next to Red and pulled her to her knees again, held her up. Regina leaned towards her. “My silversmith has arrived.” She produced a silver object and only when the lock clicked around her neck did Red realize this was the collar she had talked about. She felt the burn on her throat and winced. It was a sound she was used to producing by now.

“So?”

“Please… Your Majesty…” Red was panting, she could not finish the plea.

Regina rolled her eyes. “If this is the best you can do, so be it. Ending the suffering now.” And with that her hand shot straight into Red’s chest and pulled out her heart. “Kill her. Rip her throat out like you always do.”

Red wanted to scream. She wanted to jump the Evil Queen. To tear up the men holding her. But what she wanted was irrelevant all of a sudden. The will to do it was overwritten. She looked at the girl, defeated, not even surprised. While Red’s mind fully woke up for the first time in days, all her muscles reacted to something else. The pain all over her body was terrible, but every second she didn’t comply was even more agony.

Red crawled more than she walked to get to the chair. She hovered over her nameless victim, tried to hold back, but those terror-stricken eyes met hers. “Make it quick, please.” Oh, if only she could turn into a wolf, those sharp teeth would take less than a second. Regina had specified how this girl was supposed to die and Red could not opt to cut her throat with a knife, she sunk her still very human teeth into it. The larynx, so easy to wrap fangs around, was hard, the skin and flesh thick. The scream the girl let out was only short, because the pressure suffocated her. It was impossible to make this quick-

Finally Red tasted blood. Tears ran down her face, but she could not stop herself from this horrible act. This slow, agonizing, inhumane death of a nameless chamber maid, who probably hadn’t even stolen a thing. Someone at the wrong place, at the wrong time, who had suffered for days for cruel experiments with no merit. One more victim added to Red’s tally. Not for good. Not in battle. Not in defense. Needless cruelty.

When the girl’s heart stopped, Red finally could let go. She sank on all fours, spat out what she could of the blood and wailed. Her own heart wasn’t even in her chest, but it had never felt heavier.

“Get the smith down here now, he knows what to do.” Regina sent one guard away. Red looked up, warm blood dripping from her chin, she could feel it. Disgusting. If she had any strength left, this would be the time to strike. But all Regina needed to do was a little squeeze. Her heart hurt. No, Red was helpless. Any thought of fighting back an illusion.

“I think it’s best that you lie down on the table for this next part.”

Red wanted to put her head under a guillotine right now. To kill like that was worse than any of the torture methods the Evil Queen had come up with. Regina had won. But Red couldn’t do anything but comply and lied down, waiting for her fate.

It came in the form of a small white haired man, holding a sort of chalice with a long tongue. His hands were shaking and Red couldn’t tell if it was because of what he was doing or just being in Regina’s presence. She couldn’t make sense of what was happening. A guard came and put her wrists into the handcuffs again, strapping her to the table. A chain going over her thighs and under the table fixated her.

Regina squatted down next to her, stroking her hair. “Feel free to scream for me now.”

“The mold.” Wood was pressed against her back. “Careful with your fingers there, wouldn’t want to burn you.”

And then everything was fire. The scream from Red’s throat surprised Regina enough that she stood up. Loud, agonizing, on the brink of collapse. What looked like a chalice was a melting pot, containing a few grams of molten silver. It was poured on Red’s skin and burned her instantly, severely. Water followed mere seconds later to turn the liquid back to solid, but the damage was done. A silver ring fused into her flesh. The pain and the sensory overload from heat to cold send her into shock. She was still screaming with the taste of warm blood in her mouth when the faint claimed her.

[leamy-world]

Reaction to The Devil Judge (spoilers for ep. 11-12)

Hello everyone! I hope you’re doing well this week!

Here we go! Again i’m really sorry for the english & my personal interpretations which might go a little bit overboard (❁´ω`❁)

THIS GOT VERYYYYYYYYYY LONG PLEASE BEAR WITH ME!!!!

tldr: i am in shambles haha

Have a nice week and take care! ♥

- Huckleberryfinn’s new OST, The Nights, was released this saturday and it’s truly a gem! The guitar/bass’s place in BOTH OSTs they composed is awesome. The lyrics destroyed me haha (i’ll shortly talk about it below!). The soundtrack during these two episodes was awesome btw ;;

- Sun-Ah’s visit to the mansion felt nostalgic and shattering at the same time, she sees she doesn’t belong in this house but still indulges a little in this illusion, « wanting to fall for his trick even just for a little while ». Her expression made me feel for her for a little while too ;; 

This shot above is funny because the bokeh effect (✨ the little sparkles ✨) is used in the background every time but this time it plays in front of Sun-Ah’s view: she sees in Yohan and his mansion a « shining » thing she desired for a long time. The bokeh here served also as a transition to the flashback right after.

Well, it could just be the streetlights’ reflections on the car and me reaching but there are so many symbolic visual shots in this show already i just couldn’t dismiss it in my brain haha

I liked Sun-Ah’s depiction of her choice to go against Yohan: she drops the necklace (symbolizing Yohan, this scene followed by Yohan’s cross-like scar) and not herself, like she did in the past for/because of Yohan when she was a maid + Yohan’s reflection disappears, Sun-Ah only focusing on herself: the ‘us’ she wanted for some time disappeared. And this event makes Sun-Ah’s rage on K more upsetting than it already is, but maybe i’m reaching haha

This scene also shows Yohan and Sun-Ah want two different directions to their relationship: to use her and to have him reach the top by her side respectively. They both look at the mirror, but their focus is different and they’re set in different plans on the shots.

In My Mister, (SPOILERS) the wife has a serious affair with her husband’s superior, but throughout the drama, they have divergent opinions on their affair’s developments: the wife wanted to leave her husband and settle with her lover, while the latter didn’t think any of it and, among other plot reasons, only wanted her because married women are the ‘safest choice (ending the relationship while she still loves him would be more troublesome) and always kept the affair secret’. 

This was particularly symbolized by their song preferences, but also by this shot in the beginning of the series: after the wife shared her hopes about their relationship (and her lover staying most of the time silent), they both look to the distance (their affair’s metaphorical future) but their eyes almost never look in the same direction.

- « I did it because i need you (by my side?) », Sun-Ah and Gaon’s parallels:

"[To Gaon on ep. 8] I wanted you to be by my side.”

“[To Gaon on ep. 5] I don’t need you to understand, but you need to make a decision. Will you stand in my way … or stand on my side?”

"[To Gaon] If i needed to, i would’ve done something even worse. Whether it was switching him or something else.”

- When Elijah and Gaon play jenga, Yohan might have let the door to his bedroom open (even after leaving them the first time) to continue hearing them have fun in the living room. It parallels to the scene in ep. 5 where he watches them play in the garden with Kkomi through the little gap of his curtains: what piques his curiosity first is the playful conversation he hears from his bed even from the closed windows. The flashback explains it all and i’m glad Gaon insisted to have him play with them despite the front he tried to put on, Elijah’s and Yohan’s expressions in this scene ended me ;;

Look how quick he turned his attention to Gaon, as if he waited for something to happen, to get to play with them!! His eyes lit up in an instant i can’t with this —

I loved how Yohan delayed his defeat to Elijah by asking Gaon questions about the game hahah

Elijah and Yohan’s relationship growth here reminds me of 2 parallels i didn’t catch the first time (but the desperation i felt when Gaon left because everything could grow cold again between Elijah and Yohan):

“That’s everything i think about”:

Elijah getting in & out of the car (ep. 6-9):

- And Gaon’s « Once everything is over, i’ll definitely … » — you’ll definitely what, please tell the audienceeeeeeee ;;;; this screams a death flag for Soohyun (or was it just foreshadowing their confrontation in ep. 12? idek anymore haha), but let’s hope it’s not!!

- After CKH’s suicide: we can’t expect people to make perfect choices every time they are challenged, and i think this story shows it well: Soohyun when she was with Elijah, and now Gaon carelessly touching the minister’s body for the files. As judges, they could have searched the body and the room using a fabric to hide their presence. But they’re both shocked: Yohan looks dumbfounded, standing and watching (even though he’s quicker to react when he sees Soohyun and he puts on a composure at the house saying it was ‘nothing’, he looked very sour when Sun-Ah called him to rejoice in her death) and Gaon panic-stricken. The fact he might have relived his parents’ suicide when he discovered the Minister’s body … And in the worst way possible (in a daze, searching her dead body for her files and realizing he didn’t give the body minimum respect) … oof

At least Yohan could have thought about it since the story shows how prepared he is in his plans, but this scene shows even him is at a loss at what to do. After all, the minister was the way he targeted to bring everyone linked to the foundation down. They were so close, i think he was too convinced her « self-pity » would mean her survival despite everything (« Do you have any other options? ») to see what was coming. After all, when they last met, he saw she was about to shoot him. 

Sun-Ah was the only one he thought was ‘unpredictable’. When Gaon talked to CKH, he let him speak and approved his speech, surely thinking everything went along his plans and the minister would surrender. And i think that’s also why he gives Gaon all this speech, to reassure himself and them, since they work now as a team. 

- Ep. 9 foreshadowing ep. 11 and 12 (Soohyun facing Yohan and Gaon). It’s interesting how the two shots from ep. 9 seem to put on the same plan the three characters, as if Yohan is literally standing between Soohyun and Gaon, as if he was the one protecting/separating him from Soohyun. This is very telling of the whole dynamic between those three.

- When the minister said she didn’t want to clear her name regarding her son in the live but still does so anyway, this is pure preterition haha! It’s also why she reminds the public opinion the first case Yohan handled!

- Cha Kyung Hee’s demise (ep. 11-4 parallels):

(+ a cinematographic reference to the 2000 movie Malèna, which was recently used in Hwasa’s MV for the song Maria)

- The scene right after where Soohyun wipes Gaon’s involvement to the suicide was moving in regards to her character, we get to see how torn she is by this situation + when she faces off Yohan in the parking (and the ‘let go’ could also have referred to Gaon) … i felt bad for her!

- About Soohyun & the professor: I find interesting the way the professor and Soohyun shelter Gaon’s existence was clearly shown with these two episodes and through their rage. At the beginning of the drama, their hold on his life’s values and choices was almost impalpable but not anymore, now that they’re facing Yohan’s threat.

In these shots, Soohyun looks like she is covering Gaon’s ear, turning him away and protecting him from outside (from the pain, Yohan, the rest of the world).

And on professor Min’s part, it’s almost infantilizing, de-responsibilizing Gaon to say the least (« What are you making Gaon do? That child has been through so much. He suffered and struggled through the worst to get there. »), given he’s the one who planted him on the court’s bench to find what’s happening behind the scene: he could have asked Gaon for explanations (as Yohan underlined, « Did you hear it from Gaon himself? ») but he just snaps at him. He should have foreseen that he could’ve taken Yohan’s side. 

For his defense, his family just got targeted but still, it’s the first time Gaon came back since then!

(By the way, that whole conversation with professor Min confirmed to Yohan Gaon didn’t admit to their plan to Soohyun nor the professor)

As for Soohyun, her deep concern for Gaon makes her antagonize Yohan and, in her POV, it’s pretty understandable: her friend got locked up in this judge’s house for days with no phone or permission to go out + said judge seems to not let her niece go out with her new friends, got violent against Gaon + he seems to be plotting something behind the trials he biased + Gaon’s description of the man in the first episodes wasn’t that nice but DESPITE IT ALL her friend still seems to be empathizing with him? 

She’s maybe thinking he got manipulated by Yohan given the evil picture he depicted her & must feel helpless in front of Gaon’s sudden change of heart. I think that’s what she wanted to ask him when she got cut by the professor’s arrival. The lack of honest conversation between them is what’s making it worse: on one hand, Gaon goes to her every time he feels sad or confused to get comfort & advice without telling what truly is going on (or eventually telling her when she insists), on the other hand, Soohyun always tells him to give up his investigation on Yohan and never asks him his point of view to understand the situation. 

And she discovered he lied about him not being involved with this man in the worst way possible, finding him by CKH’s body with Yohan. He was her reason to dedicate her life to protect people under the law (he does not owe her anything in no way, but it was her wish), and she ended up dirtying her hands for him. Her gut reaction to her moral principles being violated by both Gaon and her right now is stronger than wanting to hear the truth from Gaon. She continues to investigate Yohan on her own, to protect him. It was interesting to see this sententious side when she confronted Gaon after all this! The only time Soohyun saw him cry and didn’t support him, it hits hard ;;

But i believe the whole crisis that’s happening by the end of ep. 12 will make them team up again at least for a while. And on that note, will she meet Sun-Ah? It would be interesting!

I’m glad the professor raised as a concern on the live trials the due process & fair trial, which are essential for the rule of law to prosper.   

In fact, the live trials slowly become a place of majoritarianism/ochlocracy/mob rule as the cases progress (the two best examples being the actor and Juk Chang cases), the protests against professor Min are another example. Even if Yohan has the last word on the defendant’s sentence, this issue is still there. 

Maybe the viewers’ voice will turn against Yohan one day?

- The minister … Even though the story showed us how cruel her family could be, i can’t help but feel sympathy for her son with her suicide. And that is accentuated by the fact her family’s grief is not even showed, covered by the mediatic chaos. She could have fled the country as her son suggested, but she thought she was « nothing » without her accomplishments and her path to glory. As the former president of the foundation killed by Sun-Ah’s hands, she died in her office as the Minister of Justice, while her image wasn’t torn to shreds yet. The photograph she held showed her at the center and, ironically, it’s the only figure from the photo who is clear-cut, her husband and her son are out of focus (or it could just be the episode’s image quality misleading me haha). Even though she loved them (well, at least in her manner, which was kind of narcissistic tbh), she cared too much for her success and her death was her act of self-pity.   

- This isn’t the first time Gaon was warned about Yohan and i find it interesting it’s the people closest to him that say that, especially K despite (or precisely because?) his loyalty to him. Elijah also warned him before.

- The whole argument … It’s a progression of ep. 5 & 8 scenes (’will you stand in my way or stand on my side?’ & ‘i wanted you by my side and if i needed to, i would’ve done something worse’). You can tell how desperate Yohan was when he reached out to Gaon. His gaze faltered, showing his hesitation to do it, but as the realization he was going to lose him dawned on him, this touch became a necessity in front of the exigency, making up for everything he couldn’t say out loud. It was a sad & hurtful mess. Yohan truly looked short on ‘arguments’ after Gaon’s question (‘what kind of monster am i turning into?’), he seemed to not even know what to say to make him stay, making him pause before talking about Soohyun. 

The way his eyes lit up, almost smiling, full of hope, when he finished laying his ultimatum and how he regained a composed expression, thinking Gaon would take his side maybe?

I didn’t catch it on the first time, but Gaon’s sadness to end/put a hold on their collaboration (thus their whole relationship, stepping out of his life) transpired through him weakly rejecting Yohan’s hand with his own hand sliding down the latter's arm, as if he was unwilling to let this life with the Kangs go. You can see it’s hard on him to leave with the tears in his eyes. 

I think Gaon’s response outran his thoughts, as a quick riposte, it was to make Yohan stop this. The way things went (well, it escalated QUICKLY), hurting him like that was the only effective way, and he knows it will hurt him: before saying Soohyun is his world, he tears up because of that (in addition to everything Yohan said and it was A LOT), and didn’t even have the strength/will to get angry like all the previous times: 

the fact Yohan laid this very ultimatum and wanted to persuade/manipulate him into thinking this was the only choice. Even if he knew Yohan would be capable of doing this since ep. 7-8 (”To achieve his goal, would he not use another man’s pain? If the devil really did exist among us.”), he got a confirmation and it still hurts.

+ the fact he knows he has to hurt him with something as much as hurtful before he takes it too far.

+ the fact he knows he can’t live in this house any longer because of this argument when he made all these memories with them.

And (let’s hope for it) if Gaon wants to show Yohan there’s another way out of this ultimatum, Gaon’s « Soohyun is my world » might be a counter ultimatum (‘to stay by your side, you’ll have to deal with my world because there must be another way, there is no question, or else you’ll have to deal on your own’). He’s still not said anything to Soohyun (well, he didn’t have the opportunity to anyway but even during their confrontation, when she asked for details, he said nothing) nor the professor, so maybe that’s it?

- « Of course it doesn’t matter to me, but … » ELIJAH NOOOOOOOO ;;;;;;;;; After Yohan, Elijah tries in her way to hold Gaon back — and she makes a valid point tbh (look at what happened by the end of the episode!), but seeing her putting all her efforts and realizing it’s failing is heartbreaking … Given the preview for ep. 13, please let me hope this conversation won’t be their last one!! 

- Utter devastation when the next scenes show how Gaon still shines even in his absence: the « You never apologize » + the scene with the nanny & Gaon’s last prepared meal + Gaon’s portrait by Elijah … ugh 

- Elijah’s painting game is too strong, can’t relate haha! I wish they could show the BTS for this painting, respect for the artist behind!!

- On metaphorical images, Gaon took care of the Kangs like he tended to his plants at home. On a regular basis, he provided them attention and care, making them lively as his plants got lush. On ep. 8, we got a shot of Elijah smiling at Gaon’s plants, sort of a confirmation she loved how their house became warmer since Gaon’s stay, which led her to open up to his uncle.

- Now they’re only four! It looks like the mafia game haha, i look forward (am i though?) to the day Sun-Ah sits by herself haha 

AND THIS MAN

This is true pig behavior, especially considering Sun-Ah’s past … I felt her reaction when he said all this bs to demean her, she had all her struggles with men thrown back to her face, soiled by these « jokes ». 

- The monsters, the abyss and Nietzsche:

« He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. », Nietzsche

- « I don’t care if humanity falls, as long as i have you two ». It was what he wouldn’t say to Gaon nor Elijah, and yet they’re his world! This sequence parallels Gaon’s inner wish when he leaves the Kang’s house + the flashbacks of his fond memories with the Kangs. Will Yohan give his vigilante ideals up for them? Will Gaon pursue this dream but in his own way that won’t threaten their « worlds »?

(Now we know what his whole world meant)

- The light from the chandelier (ie. their newfound family) is out of Yohan’s (metaphorical) reach, shown by its blurred silhouette, as if it’s gone from the room which regained its initial colder tones. But it’s not: once it’s made its way in the room, it remains and lingers, as a keepsake of the lost warmth. His fond memories with Gaon and Elijah flashed back through the window’s light.

On a similar note, Gaon’s room, albeit having warmer tones than the Kang’s ones since the beginning, looks dark too. The contrast with earlier episodes is clear. This reminds me of My Mister’s (SPOILERS) full shots of Lee Ji An’s room, getting warmer as she gets to know Park Dong Hoon, and losing all its fond colors when she has to leave for his sake. As if the room and inanimate objects were given life by their owner, imbuing them with their feelings. It becomes an outer expression of their feelings. Sorry for the rambling but i just love when they do that in fiction, and i think it sometimes leaves more impact to the viewers if emotions are conveyed through various angles (eg. through another character’s point of view, sounds, looks, the use of light i mentioned below, etc) ! 

- I wonder … since the flashbacks are giving us Gaon’s conscious point of view on this separation, was he awake when Yohan came back from his (forced) encounter with Sun-Ah? It’s a really minor point but it could be an interesting detail since this show always shows us there are some sides or spots to the stories we didn’t have yet! 

The jenga scene also flashed back but this time we see Gaon’s POV seeing Yohan’s smile & we got Gaon’s angle when Yohan had a nightmare in ep. 5: while from Yohan’s POV, Gaon’s irruption truly felt like an invasion of his intimacy (the quick succession of shots expressing his panic and defensive reaction), from Gaon’s POV only one angle showed the scene, the tension was conveyed only when Yohan slapped his hand away. 

We also got Yohan’s POV when he admitted to Gaon he needed him by his side (and a closer look at Gaon’s troubled expression)!  

- Ep. 5 and 11-12 parallels: 

Yohan’s tentative look at Gaon and Elijah playing outside, as if he wanted to join them like in ep. 11, the curtains mainly closed and only pushed by one of his hands. It let the daylight in his dark room through this sneak peek. 

But in ep. 12, the curtains are drawn, Yohan taking the (moon)light fully in. And this time, he doesn’t reach out to his late brother in the flames, but to the moonlight. He gets up, as in a trance, from his nightmare like the last time, but he goes to his window instead. And it reminds me of both Huckleberry Finn’s OST’s (in Tempest, « you said i’ll live in the sun / moonlight » and in The Nights, « my / your night shines on you / me »), the suffer is here. And see how the light reveals his tear? I nearly missed it!

The fact he could not find sleep anymore after this night + he slept on his sofa where the moonlight could be seen + has kept his phone right next to him (in case Gaon called him or to know if something happened to him) ➾ 🌝 pure devastation 🌝

- I really love the show’s use of light/dark tones to reveal and contrast its characters’ emotions! What you can’t see in the light gets revealed in the dark, and vice-versa. The OST The Nights touches on this subject as well. 

And it ties up very well to the plot so far: everyone has his or her own motivations and intentions, background, and makes choices, but depending on the perspective, their story changes and sparks off different reactions. Everybody’s story is interconnected. 

As @skylessnights pointed out, one of the books found during the series (when Yohan revealed his past to Gaon if i’m correct), The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, depicts this angle well in its plot and epigraph: « Never again shall a single story be told as though it were the only one. » - John Berger. 

When Gaon and Yohan go back to the mansion after CKH’s death, the route lights flash Gaon’s hands red, caught (literally) red-handed by Soohyun. He begins to recollect his recent memories of what just happened, and panics, short-winded, until Yohan touched his arm. He’s startled but calmed himself down, and we don’t hear him out of breath anymore. It’s interesting how the light’s focus was on Gaon’s hands, the core of his panic, until Yohan’s arm came into the light, as if our and Gaon’s attention went back to Yohan’s touch, his anchor in his panic, and begins to think clear-headed of what they had done. (btw, getting Phoenix Wright desperate vibes from Gaon’s pose haha)

Gaon’s emotions show when his phone lights up, trying to reach Soohyun again. 

When Yohan’s inner wish brings him back to their happy times, the end of the flashback shows a shot of his eyes dazzled by the light of these memories and back to the present, the light now gone out from his eyes.

Yohan’s reaction to Gaon’s cry in the prison yard in ep. 7: what i loved to see was how his restraint told more about the emotions he held back. The light shifting on his face revealed his jaw clenching & frowned brows, his glassy eyes and him averting his gaze, which he often does when he’s in front of sensitive topics and it’s too much.

+ other instances he looked away:

When Jinjoo decides to accept the foundation’s offer, she steps into the dark side of the room where the two chairmen are. Up till now, she stood where the light could reach her, away from them. It symbolically seals her involvement with the foundation, and by the end of ep. 12, it is confirmed by her message on behalf of the foundation (about the plague) displayed on the screens. By the way, i love the fact so much things unfold while we focus on Yohan and Gaon’s story!

On the subject of ‘subjective’ truths, examples, besides the flashback with the priest about Yohan in ep. 11, could be the truth behind the cancellation of the donation by Yohan or Sun-Ah’s fall from the window when she was a maid. We got Sun-Ah, Elijah, and then later Yohan’s point of view.

- I think Gaon tried to call Soohyun and not Yohan (though the subs say otherwise) because the contact above has the ‘thug’ nickname with the fist emoji! It made more sense, Yohan would’ve answered right away! But i believe he will have regrets/worries in the next episodes (Yohan and Elijah seem to be getting in real danger so maybe he’ll come back to save them).

- Metatextuality in The Devil Judge — Beauty and the Beast (written by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont & Disney’s 1991 animation movie)

I’ve always loved transtextual relationships between fictions, my french teacher in middle school gave us this passion haha! Ever since i read this interview translated by @deviljudge​, it’s true i’m getting more and more Beauty and the Beast vibes, especially from ep. 12’s argument (and the whole premise Belle got locked up in the mansion in the beginning)! The original fairy tale and Disney’s adaptation are both relevant, some plot points differ from one another (Belle’s sisters vs Gaston, the mansion personnel turned into living paraphernalia) even though the core of the fairy tale is left untouched but for the sake of this bit, i’ll use the 1991 movie because its inevitably longer format delves more into the fairy tale moral lesson.

(Cheesy time incoming haha) The beast lets Belle go see her father he knew she deeply cared about, and let her go because he realized he loved her. He thought she would never come back, but despite it all, she came back and saved him from Gaston. Belle (Gaon) broke the spell that was casted on the mansion (the Kangs and their loneliness, especially when Yohan said he’s tired of this house). Yohan fails at not hurting the people he cares about but learns step by step, by Gaon and Elijah's side, how to live again and reconnect with his ‘human’ side.

Even the secretary looks like the modern version of the whole cast in the Beast’s mansion (Cogsworth, Lumière, …) haha

The movie intro is self-explanatory: 

« Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish and unkind. But then, one winter’s night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman’s ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the Beast concealed himself inside his castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his 21st year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast? »

Belle’s characterization in the movie is also interesting:

« With a dreamy, far-off look and her nose stuck in her book what a puzzle to the rest of us is Belle ». 

« There must be more than this provincial life (…) I want adventure in the great wide somewhere — I want it more than i can tell — And for once it might be grand to have someone understand — I want so much more than they’ve got planned » 

& when Belle got locked up in the mansion: « I’ve lost my father, my dreams, everything. » (similar to “Soohyun is my world”).

Gaon, since his parents’ death, lived his life believing in the illusion of justice the system gave him, along with Soohyun and professor Min, his two pillars who kept him steady this whole time. Once he was showed it was an illusion, he wanted to fight this world.

Before the movie’s climax, this conversation reminded me of ep. 12’s argument:

« - Belle? Are you happy here with me?

- Yes. [looks to the distance]

- What is it?

- If only i could see my father again just for a moment. I miss him so much.

- There is a way. This mirror will show you anything. Anything you wish to see.

- I’d like to see my father, please. [The mirror projects the image of his father in danger and sick] Papa. Oh no. He’s sick. He may be dying and he’s all alone.

- [Glances at the wilting rose] Then you must go to him. 

- What did you say?

- I release you. You’re no longer my prisoner.

- You mean i’m free?

- Yes.

- Oh, thank you. Hold on Papa, i’m on my way.

- Take [the mirror] with you, so you’ll always have a way to look back and remember me.

- Thank you for understanding how much he needs me.

(…)

- I let her go. 

- [Cogsworth] Yes, splen … You what? How could you do that?

- I had to.

- Yes but … Why?

- Because i love her. »

Yohan did nothing to hold Gaon back even if he needs him (as shown when he clutches his hands together after he left) because he was forced by Gaon to understand how precious Soohyun is to him, this point was already made multiple times in the series (when Gaon thought he was the one who pushed Soohyun in the stairs and already threatened him about it, when Gaon told him he couldn’t live as a conman in front of Soohyun and his parents). Since his ‘to have you by my side, i would have done worse if it was necessary’ + ‘this is a life or death situation, sacrifices are also necessary’, he seemed to think Soohyun was expendable in his own world, which he shared with Gaon. With this argument, his world looks definitely incompatible with the one Gaon described (« Soohyun is my world »), and even though they already went this far in their plan, he lets him go and respects his choice. Will it make him change for the better or for the worse? Will the whole ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ apply to him?

Other moments i found interesting to note:

« Come into the light »:

When Belle goes to save the Beast from the village:

« - Please, i know he looks vicious, but he’s really kind and gentle. He’s my friend. - - [Gaston] If i didn’t know better, I’d think you had feelings for this monster. - - He’s no monster, Gaston. You are! - - If you’re not with us, you’re against us. » (pretty similar to the professor’s rage in the hospital)

When Belle’s father goes to save her: « I don’t care what it takes. I’ll find that castle and somehow, i … I’ll get her out of there. » (when Soohyun talks about and to Yohan)

The Beast possessive behavior in the beginning of the story: « [To her father] She’s no longer your concern, take him to the village. » (similar to Yohan’s behavior towards Soohyun) & « [To Belle] The castle is your home now » (and towards Gaon)

A monster:

When the Beast observes Belle playing from afar:

- And i saw some Jane Eyre vibes (SPOILERS) from the whole fire haha + Wuthering Heights on Sun-Ah’s & Yohan’s mixed parts!

- And well … Sun-Ah’s character loosely reminds me of Simone in Nier Automata (which in itself is a reference to Simone de Beauvoir’s life and works), with the whole « I must become more beautiful / But he still won’t look my way », to whoever knows this game! 

- These thigh boots holy hell Sun-Ah!!!! i loved this outfit!

- As soon as he said he didn’t feel anything from his revenge, K got the biggest death flag in this episode, i can’t believe they did this to the poor boy … When i asked for more scenes THIS isn’t what i meant aaaaaaaaaa

- A very random and weird note: Yohan’s almost silent and held back pain by the end of the ep. 12 fits his character so far, as well as his ‘calm’ tears. Given his past, it’s as if he’s always kept his pain bottled up and quietly bears it all and almost never got the space to properly let it all out (he had his brother, but with their father, i think they didn’t have this ‘chance’).

- My sick mind thought Sun-Ah was going to bring Gaon to the scene just in time for him to witness Yohan getting shot, but i guess it will be when she will get in the Kang’s mansion again according to the preview (since she asked Juk Chang for a « favor », i think they’ll knock Gaon out  after beating him up for his own fun to leave him to Sun-Ah). Sun-Ah looked surprised when Jae-Hee shot him, so i guess only hurting K was part of the plan.

- The ‘I know i’m fucked’ look hahaha

+ the softer version:

- I now have BIG trust issues since these last episodes’ previews, and the cliffhangers kill me haha 

- On another note, i find it amazing how Ji Sung and Kim Min Jung keep that upsetting atmosphere whenever there’s a scene between them that involves them and skinship, but it still conveys Sun-Ah’s complex feelings for Yohan and Yohan’s interest in her! The soundtrack really does a good job to convey that mood as well!

- In conclusion: How Dramatic do you want these two episodes to be? The devil judge: Yes

[cybernaght]

Guardian rewatch: episode 7

The world’s most amicable mugging continues in this episode, as Shen Wei waits for Zhao Yunlan to spring into his defence as his personal knight in shining armour. Or, as the official subtitle of the episode states:

I kid you not. Here’s the original with the alternate translation.

I am once more very much not mad at it. 

I say that Shen Wei’s mugging is amicable, but that is of course is before one of the “gangsters” tries to grab at his Pendant of Pining. “It’s not something that you people can touch”, he states, easily restraining the man’s wrist. He’s not losing his composure just yet, but his warrior’s stance is showing, and he comes pretty close to breaking cover.

Thankfully, this is when Zhao Yunlan shows up to intervene. Hearing him approach, Shen Wei’s first priority is hiding the Pendant of Pining. His second priority is straightening his collar and tightening his tie. Shen Wei may be in a middle of an attempted mugging, but he’d be damned if he allows Zhao Yunlan to see him dishevelled. Come to think of it, it’s kind of hilarious that Shen Wei’s attempt at pretending to be a poor helpless human includes being completely nonplussed by being attacked. Surely freaking out a little would be an infinitely less suspicious choice. 

Yunlan politely but firmly pushes the professor aside, and Shen Wei waits patiently next to the wall, neatly folding his hands the same way he did at the unpleasant councillor meeting in the previous episode. 

Here we finally see that Zhao Yunlan is pretty impressive in hand to hand combat. This man may not have a sword, but he can easily knock two dudes out with three moves. Again, this is a very short, but pretty damn flawless little piece of choreography. Zhao Yunlan’s fighting prowess is even more accentuated with a gleeful adrenaline-filled grin he breaks into after he’s done. I understand Shen Wei’s endless desire to protect the man he’s devoted to, but, honestly, it’s nice to see Zhao Yunlan not really needing protection - not against simple street crime at least. 

Shen Wei proceeds to calmly dust off his discarded briefcase. Zhao Yunlan proceeds to retrieve the other man’s watch from the ground and then passes it on. With physical contact. Should I be obsessing over how their fingers linger together for a second? Maybe not. I am doing it anyway. 

“What a coincidence”, deadpans Shen Wei, who knows for the fact that the other man is tailing him, and causes a delightful burst of faux outrage in response. 

“What are you implying?”, Zhao Yunlan asks innocently, deflecting further by inquiring whether Shen Wei thinks he staged this little rescue mission. He follows it with “Only you’re allowed to be here this time of night?”, which I choose to read as, “Really, Shen Wei. Why do you think you should have a monopoly on stalking in this relationship?”

As the two are distracted by the low key flirting, one of the muggers makes an opportunity attack on Zhao Yunlan. Shen Wei is alarming Yunlan to this with genuine worry, but does not lose his composure enough to intervene.  

We are treated to another excellent three moves, which are block-break-backfist. Well mixed sound helps, but Bai Yu does look very good as well. The footage does not appear sped up at all, but his movements are fast and crisp, he’s engaging his whole body, everything lands well angle-wise, it’s appropriately safe... Again, I cannot fault this at all. Bai Yu is not physically strong, and this just goes to show that you don’t need a lot of muscle to look like you can be an effective fighter. I don’t want to go into long detail on western media’s obsession with unrealistic physical standards in action media, but suffice it to say that it’s an unhealthy and pointless aesthetic choice which has nothing to do with reality of combat performance - as this scene clearly illustrates. (Look. As I said, stage violence is one of my jobs, and I’m a curvy woman who spends a lot of her time with insecure young actors and drama students. I have opinions.)

Having fended off the attack, Zhao Yunlan exaggerates the situation with the proverb “talking too much will get you killed.” Shen Wei is obviously distressed over his choice of words, but he looks down to hide it. 

At this point the two decide to go home instead of getting the street criminals off the street. 

Zhao Yunlan follows Shen Wei into his flat, pretending very loudly that he has not seen this place before. He is trying way too hard. And there is a touch of a naughtily feline glimmer in his eyes, because he is probably still on that adrenaline rush: his heart would be pounding, senses elevated, brain basking in a pleasant sharpness akin to a sugar rush, when everything is a little bit too saturated. And an attractive mysterious man he just saved is asking him to stay. Zhao Yunlan’s going to have even less brain to mouth filter here than he usually does. 

Shen Wei is getting a first aid to kit to treat Zhao Yunlan’s injuries. It’s anyone’s guess why the self-healing Envoy needs a first aid kit at all - it lives in a Tupperware box as well, suggesting that it’s been assembled and organised by hand rather than store bought. 

Sitting down, and tucking his tie in (because neatness is everything), Shen Wei prepares to administer a mysterious ointment to Zhao Yunlan’s bruise, and states that this is him giving Chief Zhao an opportunity for interrogation. I bet he has got a lie prepared for any question, because this situation has definitely been pre-planned. 

Instead of probing the other man, Zhao Yunlan offers him a job. Shen Wei’s answer is a firm no, which he utters without even a second hesitation. To Zhao Yunlan, this clearly reads as a rejection, as his face crumbles. 

He livens up however, when Shen Wei hurries to add that this is not a denial of help or cooperation. Zhao Yunlan is right to ask why he would take the job then case; this is an entirely reasonable question. I’m guessing, Shen Wei’s reluctance comes from his unwillingness to compromise Hei Pao Shi’s position, rather than an attempt to prevent Zhao Yunlan from getting involved in the cosmic shitstorm which is currently brewing: as the Lord Guardian, he’s gonna get right in the middle of said storm either way. 

“You just move in and didn’t invite your neighbour over for some fun?”, Zhao Yunlan asks.

Laying it on really thick, I see. 

Shen Wei blinks disbelievingly, as if to say “did he just…?” then recovers enough to huff out a laugh.

“My mistake. Next time, I’ll properly invite you.”

Zhao Yunlan snaps his fingers in delight, visibly vibrating with joy. In his head this is Yunlan - 1: Xiao Wei - 0. 

As Shen Wei starts to apply the mysterious ointment, Zhao Yunlan flinches, and Shen Wei is genuinely taken aback by an idea that he might hurt this man. He is so preciously startled for a second, shedding ten thousand years in an instant. I am never going to not be impressed by Zhu Yilong’s ability to switch into Baby Shen Wei mode in a matter of seconds. 

“I didn’t expect you to have such skilful hands.”

Zhao Yunlan’s charm attack truly is unrelenting, and Shen Wei looks up with such a fragile hope in his eyes. He has lived a long time now, and he has learned to maintain thick walls around himself, but he is still incredibly affected by Kunlun’s shameless flirting. 

Continuing his charm offensive, Zhao Yunlan gets so distracted by trying to further impress Shen Wei, he unwittingly reveals that he knows the layout of this flat. And realises what he said. And hopes that the other man had not noticed, adorably brushing his nose in embarrassment. 

He dug this one out for himself, and Shen Wei is far from mortified: he is pleased to have caught the other man out. Zhao Yunlan flails, and Shen Wei quite literally is failing to wipe a smug smile off his own face. 

He’s not even really waiting for an explanation. He’s just happy to win this round. There is even a little “yeah sure let’s pretend I believe you” tilt of the eyebrow, when Yunlan finally comes up with something that sounds as a reasonable excuse. 

After his massive blunder, Zhao Yunlan tries to leave again. Shen Wei stops him, again, and there is no limit to how slyly Zhao Yunlan turns around, followed by a hind of disappointment when all he gets is an ointment, and not, you know, an opportunity to have a good look around Shen Wei’s bedroom. 

Shen Wei is left alone in his flat in a state of utter emotional overload, stroking the Pendant under his shirt. 

Let’s disregard for a second the fluctuating length of the chord the Pendant hangs on (is it between his collar bones or in front of his breastbone? Pick one!), and just appreciate the pining. Shen Wei is going through a lot of feelings since his Kunlun’s returned into his life, and sometimes computing is not an option. 

In the next scene, the muggers are discussing Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan, calling them both too formidable to even attempt an act of revenge against them. Definitely a wise idea. Unfortunately for them, they immediately get attacked by… something.

Spoiler alert: no, it’s not a bear.

It’s the White Shirt Day at the SID. Chu Shuzhi is the only one not participating. In this scene, we discover that Lin Jing likes a horror web novelist called Lai Su - which will be very convenient for the case at hand. During their conversation, Wang Zheng alerts he team to the new case, asking for the whereabouts of their boss. Zhu Hong’s reply is that who knows which old pal the man is hang out with. As we never see him having any friends outside of his job, I choose to believe that he is probably hanging out with Shen Wei; quite possibly exploring the layout of his bedroom. Especially considering how good his mood is as he strolls into the office announcing that he is going to buy a feast for everyone.

Unfortunately, the feast has to wait. Zhao Yunlan, Chu Shuzhi and Xiao Guo head towards the crime scene, which is the very same alley the mugging took place the night before. 

“Based on my experience, he died from freezing.” 

There has never been a more apt reason to use the phrase “no shit Sherlock”. 

Apparently, there is a cctv camera trained right on this very particular dark alley. Which implies that the muggers were even less professional than they appeared to be at the beginning of the episode. Mysteriously, the footage fails to show the actual monster who attacked the poor unfortunate street criminals. It did, on the other hand, capture Zhao Yunlan’s dashing rescue of Professor Shen.

Zhao Yunlan can’t exactly stop his team from rewinding the footage, so he is just left squirming as those around him gape at him spending time with Shen Wei in the middle of the night. 

“You... and Shen Wei? This late at night?”

Chu Shuzhi’s transition from disbelief to a knowing “ah” via a mischievous smirk is particularly amusing. 

The following afternoon, Zhu Hong appears in Shen Wei’s office, laptop in hand. She is quietly furious at being given this task; as I imagine it is very awkward indeed to be a laptop carrier for your crush’s crush. The entire scene she will be alternating between glaring, rolling her eyes, pursing her lips, and glaring with even more venom. 

After Shen Wei gets over his initial bafflement at technology, he realises that Zhao Yunlan is video calling him in order to ask for his expertise on the current case. For the most of this scene the call looks like some sort of fake generic video conference software, apart from some shots on the SID side which very obviously show a pre-recorded footage being played: with a pause button, and a time stamp, and everything.

Shen Wei is in full trolling mode when he educates the SID team on all the types of bears that could have attacked the victim. He tasted this feeling of outsmarting Yunlan the night before and it’s too sweet to let go. Judging by the fact that Da Qing, who is by Zhao Yunlan’s side, is falling asleep during this conversation, we can guess that it’s been going on for a while. 

Zhao Yunlan knows that Shen Wei is trying to prove a point here - he will not be bullied into being a consultant. So, Zhao Yunlan changes tactics, and asks Shen Wei for clues as a friend. Shen Wei assures Zhao Yunlan in turn that he would never hide anything important from. The magnitude of this particular lie is immeasurable, unless Shen Wei considers turning himself into a literal suicide bomb inconsequential. Which, to be fair, he might do. 

Finally, Da Qing wakes up and suggests that the suspect is a Youchu (translated in subs a “secluded beast”). He is not correct, but it is important that we know what those are, because we’ll see them in a couple of episodes - so it actually makes sense to write them in here. 

Shen Wei instantly comes forward, fishes a relevant file out of his drawer, and educates the team on that particular monster. Zhao Yunlan relates that he is familiar with those, and that he knows Hei Pao Shi fought them before in nearby cities. 

Existence of aforementioned nearby cities will remain a beautiful enigma, which will never be explained. Seastar will remain very much a Little Prince-sized planet. 

At this point Zhao Yunlan gets a call about the other mugger being found, and Shen Wei tells him in a rush that he does not think those two men possess Undergrounder qualities. 

When asked however what those qualities are, he does not elaborate, and, after a thick silence, Zhao Yunlan sighs in resignation and finally lets Shen Wei off the hook, assuring him that he knows not all Undergrounders are monsters. He knows - of course he knows - that Shen Wei is hiding stuff. He knows the other man is somehow invested in the Undergounders, and is probably is one himself.  Once again he chooses to trust him absolutely. I know it feels like I say those words every single episode, but this is also the choice Zhao Yunlan makes, deliberately, every single episode. This conversation will leave Zhao Yunlan very cranky for the remainder for the case, but his willingness to keep giving Shen Wei concessions is actually really sweet. 

Shen Wei asks, perhaps, impulsively, that Yunlan shares his findings with him, because he is curious who the culprit is. It makes, as ever, little sense for him to do so considering that he would find it out anyway as Hei Pao Shi.

After completing her mission, Zhu Hong leaves in a huff. She did not say hello and she does not say goodbye either. Shen Wei tries to wave amicably, but aborts the gesture.

He does not yet know - and will not find out for quite some time - why Zhu Hong feels so antagonistic towards him. 

Next stop: the hospital ward with a now insane criminal. Portrayal of mental health issues on this show is... interesting, by which I mean terribly stigmatising. I would have understood if this was a magic-induced psychosis, but I don’t think that’s the case at all. 

Lin Jing realises that the case sounds very much like the web horror novel he likes. It sounds insane, but Yunlan hears him out. The scientist goes into great detail over the author, revealing that he was a leader of his fan club at some point, and detailing several murders from his recent novel that appeared to have have happened in reality.

The team moves on to scout the author’s - Lai Su’s - house, with Zhao Yunlan being the one to approach it. He then proceeds to summon his team via a non-existent radio. 

Look. There is no mouth piece on this jacket. There is no earpiece in his ear. There are no wires. None of the team have radios. None of them even look like they are listening to radios. (Trust me, the “please shut up for a second, someone is speaking into my ear” is a recognisable look). Guardian’s writers/directors. Mah dudes. If you can’t afford radios, just make him do a non-verbal signal, seriously. Same effect, with much less silliness, and no continuity issues. 

Before the team enters the house, we see Ya Qing in crow form for the first time. Even without the benefit of hindsight, it’s easy to recognise that the crow will become narratively significant because she is animated, and this show would not waste its very scarce and rapidly depleting CGI budget in vein. 

We also know that the crow is a Yashou because Lin Jing starts talking about Zhu Hong at that exactly moment. Guardian is many wonderful things - it’s dramatic, breathtaking, heart-wrenching, and poignant - but subtle it is not.

Inside the house, they discover a secret room, which Lai Su is hiding in, and we finally get to meet our unfortunate culprit. 

It is very peculiar how mean-spirited this episode seems to be. The web novelist in question is shown in an unequivocally negative light. He is a coward hiding behind a blanket, a weirdo living in a secret room, a glutton stuffing his face with snacks and drinking wine. He is shown as too vain to stop chasing clout even when he suspects that his novel is leading to people dying. He writes for attention and money rather than out of genuine artistic expression. He is a whimpering mess, begging Lin Jing on his knees to speak to the Chief on his behalf. Even if we consider that moral of the story (as stated later in Guo Changcheng’s diary note) is “internet bad”, this insistence of making Lai Su so unmistakably despicable is baffling. The series is based on the web novel. What kind of message is this sending about its origins?  

On the bright side, I suppose it is nice that part of this episode not revolving around Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei’s relationship is actually rather Lin Jing-centric. So far, he was mostly there for occasional tech support and countless shots of him of screaming at a computer, but here we get to know more about him, and he goes on a little emotional journey of his own - meeting his idol and being distraught by the author not living up to expectations. It is always so disappointing to see creators you admire being imperfect, or downright unpleasant, and it’s easy to sympathise with Lin Jing’s discontent. 

Zhao Yunlan’s modus operandi has always been intuition. Looking at the author, he knows that he must be responsible for the murders, and also knows that he could not possibly have been. For once it is actually Xiao Guo who suggests the solution: multiple personality disorder. Or, magical multiple personality disorder, as it is the case. We see this click with the Chief, and he genuinely praises the young man. 

Back at the house, Lai Su is deciding to stop the murder spree by writing the demise of the homicidal protagonist of his novel. This is his ultimate redemption, which also leads to his untimely death by the hands of the monster who lives within him and is manifested through his writing. 

The team asks Zhao Yunlan what was going on with this strange case. They won’t get an explanation; but Shen Wei will. 

Zhao Yunlan, as promised, drops by Shen Wei’s office late at night to tell him all about the case. He concludes that Lai Su must have had Undergrounder blood in him, with his power not manifesting until now. Zhao Yunlan sounds rather remorseful as he stipulates that the writer could have lived a long happy life despite his origin and abilities, had he not started unknowingly abusing his powers. This Zhao Yunlan is miles removed from the man who vowed to catch every Undergrounder, and we can see Shen Wei infinitely moved by this man’s empathy. 

This, I think, is the very moment Shen Wei starts to fall in love - not with the man who was Kunlun, or the man who will be Kunlun, or the man who resembles Kunlun - with Zhao Yunlan, Lord Guardian, Chief of Special Investigations Department, with all his incessant flirting, and sharp edges, and pointed questions, and endless understanding. 

In the final moments of this episode Zhao Yunlan shares a dark premonition that something truly terrible will happen in their city. 

He has no idea how right he is. 

Next up: Episode 8: The Morning Porridge 

——

This conversation happened with my partner as I was working on this recap:

Me: … I am two scenes in and this is how much I’ve typed up already. 

My partner: Honey! I know you’re Russian, but War and Peace has already been written. 

[jean-kayak]

Where’s Your Holiday Spirit?

Summary: You’re at an office party, and the person you hate the most is also at the party

Pairing: Keishin Ukai x black!fem!reader

Warnings: (smut 18+!!), oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, ass slapping, mild daddy kink, spitting, public sex??? (there’s a chance at getting caught)

Word Count: 2,331

A/N: LMAO, I just wanted an excuse to write smut, but also I am a slut for Ukai, so here’s Day 5!

All characters are 18+!!

Another year, another stupid Christmas work party. Ukai despises these things, but he goes anyway to be on the good side of his boss, but if that wasn't the case, he would stay his ass home.

"Fix that sour face, Keishin, you're scaring people." And that is another reason he hates these parties. You.

"I hate Christmas work parties," he grumbles, and you chuckle softly.

"Yes, I'm very aware of that. That's all your face is saying right now." He feels his blood boiling the more you talk to him. Both of you are competing for the same position, and your animosity matches his. You hate him just as much as he hates you.

"Can I help you?" he spits, and he turns to you, and damn he hates how hot you look right now. The red dress you're wearing should be illegal because of how short it is, and how it tightly hugs your curves.

"Oh, don't be a sourpuss. C'mon, where's your holiday spirit?"

"At home, where I would rather be," he utters aggressively, making you laugh as you look around at the office party unfolding in front of you.

"Well, you could just go home, you know. We both know I deserve that promotion more than you do," you insist, making Keishin roll his eyes.

"Like you're not already kissing the boss' ass," he says firmly, making you chuckle again. A tray of champagne finally floats towards Keishin, and he knows he needs alcohol if he's gonna have to make it through another second talking to you.

Just as he's about to bring it to his mouth when you grab it out of his hand, taking a swig before giving him a satisfied smirk. You watch as his jaw clenches in anger and annoyance, giving him the glass of champagne back as you start to walk off.

"Well, I'll let you get back to your sulking. Have fun." You saunter away, wiggling your fingers at him before turning your attention to one of your other co-workers, and Keishin does not watch your backside as you walk away.

^^^

You're walking down the hallway towards the break room to get some more eggnog, when you feel someone yank into an office, the door closing behind you. You whirl around to see Ukai standing with his back leaning against the door, his arms crossed as he stares at you.

"Keishin, what the hell--" You're cut off by Ukai stepping closer to you and smashing his lips down on yours. You're soon kissing him back, and you feel him guiding you across the room until you feel your legs hit something.

You break away from the kiss, realizing you're in your boss' office, and your legs are against her desk. "Keishin, not in here, are you crazy?" He responds with a smug grin.

"So, you do wanna fuck?" he questions playfully, and you roll your eyes.

"Of course, I don't." You're lying straight through your teeth, but you hope he doesn't pick up on it.

He chuckles softly. "Fine, if you don't want this, I'll walk right out of here and pretend nothing happened." He lifts his hands from your waist, instantly missing the feeling of his hands on you, and as he starts to back away, your body moves before your brain, your grip on his shoulders tightening.

He tilts his head at your action, and you clench your jaw as you feel your resolve breaking. As much as you hate this man, your body refuses to listen to your head. "Having second thoughts, princess?" he jabs, and you take a deep breath, the remnants of your resolve leaving your body.

"Nobody can know, alright?" you demand, and you fight back a sigh when he rests his hands on your waist again.

"Come on, you know I don't kiss and tell." You both move forward, your lips meeting in the middle, your body going limp as he pulls you flush against him. He pushes the bottom of your dress up, his hands cupping your ass instantly as his mouth moves to your neck, and you easily give him more access. "You wore this dress on purpose, didn't you? You wanted to see if it would get a rise out of me, didn't you?"

"Maybe," you admit, hating how breathless you already sound. "It clearly worked though," you say, sounding smug. He smacks your ass, the sound so loud you're sure someone walking by would hear it.

"Fuck yeah, it did. This whole party, I've wanted nothing more than to bend you over in front of everyone and fuck you stupid."

"Fuck, Kei," you mewl, feeling your panties already soaked just from his words. He pulls the straps of your dress down your shoulders before pulling your dress past your tits.

He lifts his head, meeting your eyes, his lips shiny with his saliva, and he lightly taps your chin. "Open up, baby." You comply, and he leans over you, and you watch a glob of spit fall from his mouth onto your awaiting tongue. "Now, stay just like that, and it better be there when I come back up."

His words are confusing, but you listen, watching as he moves down, and you jump slightly when you feel him on your chest, and you almost close your mouth, but you quickly stop yourself. He's pinching, biting, and pulling at your nipples, and you feel your knees wobble a little.

He starts kissing down your torso, feeling his kisses burning on your skin through your dress. Your hands are in his air when he plants a kiss on your clothes core, and he checks to see if you're still complying with his words before pulling your panties down your legs, groaning when he sees how soaked you are.

"Now, this pussy doesn't look like it belongs to someone who hates me," he comments, and you roll your eyes.

"It does," your words obscured by your tongue.

You hear him chuckle softly as he grips the inside of your thighs, nudging your legs further apart before moving his hands to grips the outside of them. "But it also looks like a pussy that belongs to me."

You go to make a sound of protest, but it turns into a moan when he suddenly licks a thick stripe through your folds. Your thighs subconsciously clamp together when he pokes his tongue at your clit through your folds, and he puts his hands back on the inside of your thighs to keep your legs open.

You want to stifle your moans as they get louder the more fervor he puts into his actions, but you don't close your mouth, remembering his words. Your grip on his hair becomes tighter, and the harder you pull on it, the louder it makes him groan.

You try to pull him away from you when you feel your orgasm approaching, but he doesn't budge, alternating from circling your clit with the pink muscle to using it to stretch out your hole. The sounds he's making are vibrating against your core which only brings you closer to your release.

"Kei," you mumble like a warning, but that knot snaps, making you let out a silent scream, and Keishin stays between your legs, collecting as much as he can before rising to his feet as you slump against the desk.

He gives you a lazy smile when he sees that your mouth is still open, his spit sitting right where he left it, and you can't notice how hot he looks with the lower half of his face shining with your juices. "You can swallow, pretty girl," he tells you, and his smile gets even wider when you easily obey.

He grasps your chin with his thumb and index finger, his thumb rubbing softly against it as he brings his face close to yours. "You like listening to your Daddy, don't you?" he asks you smugly, his voice somehow deeper than before.

"Fuck," you gasp softly as you nod, feeling yourself getting turned on again from just his words.

"Why don't you turn around and bend over for me, princess?" and before you can answer, he's guiding you to turn around and bending you over the desk, and you think about how this is your boss' desk, and you're in her office, and it's having the opposite effect on you, making you even more turned on.

Why was her door unlocked? Or rather, how was Keishin able to get in? You're pulling from your thoughts when you feel his fingers toying with your hole. "You're still dripping for me, huh?"

You rock back against his fingers, the motion causing your nipples to rub against the desk, making you moan. "Please, Daddy, please I want it so bad," you beg, and you can see the satisfied smirk on his face as you hear his belt unbuckling and the zipper, and you feel your body start tingling in excitement.

"Guess you don't hate me that much since you're begging so easily," he says, and you can feel the tip of his cock pushing at your hole.

"Ha," you huff, "says that one who initiated this whole thing," you bite back, and you let out an involuntary whine when you feel him pull away, your body chasing after him, but he keeps a firm grip on your hips.

"Aww, you think you deserve my cock after talking back?" He gives your ass another slap, and you're pretty sure it was louder than the last one, but you don't give in just yet.

"Aww, but I thought you were the one who said you wanted to fuck me stupid?" you coo at him with a pout, and he doesn't respond, but the next thing you feel is being filled to the brim instantly, making you scream at the sudden intrusion.

He pulls you up by your hair, his hand wrapping around your neck, his mouth right up against your ear. "You wanna talk back to your Daddy now, huh?" he practically growls in your ear. "You wanna be an annoying little brat?" He thrusts into you, making you whimper as your head falls on his shoulder. "Annoying little brats don't get to cum, sweetheart. Whenever we're done, I'll walk right out of this room without you coming once. Is that what you want?"

You shake your head. "Please, I'm sorry, I want your cock so bad, I need it, Daddy," you plead, swallowing the rest of your pride. "I wanna cum, I'm sorry. Please fuck me."

He pushes you back against the desk, your body hot against the cool surface, and he gives you a particular thrust that has you seeing stars, and you cry out into the empty room. Your heart drops when you hear footsteps and voices from the other side of the door.

Ukai leans down near your ear. "And I didn't lock the door, so if anyone opens it, they'll see how you're taking my cock so well," he warns, and you clench around him, making him chuckle darkly. "So, you want to get caught? That's what gets you off, huh? Well if you scream loud enough again, I'm sure someone will hear you."

He starts moving, his pace brutal as he grips your shoulder for some extra leverage, and you're having a hard time muffling the sounds coming out of your mouth, but you're sure that the squelching noises coming from your soaked cunt are louder than you are.

When he hits your g-spot, you barely manage to muffle your moan, covering your head with your hands as you rest your forehead against the desk. You start rocking back matching with his thrusts as you feel the knot coming closer to snapping.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," he whines softly, lifting your leg onto the desk, which seems to make him go impossibly deeper, and you bite down your hand, face contorted in pleasure.

He manages to find your clit, and he starts rubbing hard, fast circles, making you arch your back as you feel your release coming. "You close baby?" he asks, and you nod quickly, too scared to use your words. "Fuck, me too."

He seems to pick up the pace, the desk starting to creak under the movement, and it's not long until that knot snaps, making you scream into your hand as your body tenses up, clenching around him.

He cums right after you, chasing your highs until you're whining at the overstimulation. He pulls out, and he watches as his cum starts to dribble out of your used hole, and he pushes it back in, making you jump.

He sits you up, turning you around, and he can't help the smug look that comes across his face when he sees how wrecked you are. You feel his seed seeping down your thighs, and he grabs some tissues, cleaning you up before throwing him in the trashcan.

"You can't throw that away in here!" you hiss, and he replies with a shrug as he tucks himself back into his pants.

"Why not? It's not like she's gonna know," he tells you nonchalantly, and you roll your eyes as you move to get dressed, finding your underwear a little ways away from the desk. You bend over to grab them, suddenly receiving a light smack that makes you glare at him.

You slide them up your legs and fixing your dress and your hair. "How do I look?"

"Like you just got fucked with the best dick you've ever had." You roll your eyes again before making your way towards the door, but Ukai stops you by grabbing your wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"What we're doing is going back to my place because there is a lot more 'holiday spirit' where that came from." He steps closer to you. "And you can be as loud as you want."

Christmas Event Masterlist!

[whump-town]

Heart Attack

This one goes out to whoever said “death. this is how i confess love”. 

I will write the other fic as well 

Warning: Major Character Death (rip my favorite big old idiot)

The initial weakness in his left arm is not noteworthy. The deep ache, daggers shooting from the inside of his wrist to the clavicle, are sadly not either. Chronic pain is just a part of his daily life and after the ugly, deep scars Foyet left on his forearms, not even simple movements are free. He’s always assumed Foyet put them, the long slashed scars that look nearly self-inflicted, there just for show, claiming him perhaps but certainly to maim. Doesn’t matter right much now, all he knows for certain is that it hurts and there’s nothing he can do about it.

It happens so frequently that it nearly slips his mind-- as much as pain can but what he really means is that the coffee in his hand slips. He’s standing in the kitchen, contemplating taking an Advil to at least dull the pain enough to better concentrate on the book he’s been trying to finish since Friday. “Fuck.” His left hand just releases the mug. He liked that mug. Advil it is.

His days pass in quiet contemplation. Just him and these beige walls. He misses the days that were filled by Jack’s toddling steps, rampant little footsteps, and happy squeals of delight. Coming home to the sound of some new band Jack’s conjured up and is going to torture him with for the next week until he moves on to the next. He misses Emily and Dave and having drinks on his couch. Being forced to go to Dave’s for family dinners and Emily coming by, uninvited, of course, to eat his ice cream and make fun of his documentaries.

Now he’s alone most of the time. Well, unless Jessica coming by to count to his pills counts. He doesn’t really think it should but she means well. Someone has to make sure he doesn’t just die on them but would they even notice?

Not immediately, not for a while.

Maybe if something strange happens on a case but those calls come less and less frequently. No one needs his specific knowledge. Emily is becoming an assured leader and she doesn’t even call him to fuss about the idiots that he hired and left her to deal with. He and Dave don’t really talk anymore. The best he gets, these days, is a quick update if someone gets hurt just so that he doesn’t worry if it pops up on the news.

Jack is off at college now. Hotch can’t blame him for being fairly radio silent but it does give him something to work with every few weeks when Jack does remember that he exists and sends a thousand-odd texts his way.

So, if he just… died no one would notice until Jessica’s Thursday visit. Even then, she’s just here to look at the pillbox he leaves on the counter for her easy access. She just checks what she has to and leaves. Life goes on.

As he’s crouched on his kitchen floor, mumbling very inappropriate and obscenity-ridden things, he feels that lightheaded fog encroach. Something that he really only knows from other encounters, one that he doesn’t associate with immediate danger. He takes a fist-full of medication each morning and roughly two list lightheadedness as a side-effect. While a dangerous fallout of Foyet’s stabbing is this strange platelet problem that messes with his iron. So while he sits for a moment and breathes through the feeling of his body trying to give out on him he assumes this problem is what it always is: his awful health.

He gets the coffee cleaned up with a towel but leaves the towel over the broken bits of the mug. The cartilage in his knees saw better days roughly twenty-years ago and by the time that the coffee has been contained, he can hardly stand the pain in them. So, guiding himself with a hand on the counter (then leaning on the wall and using a kitchen chair and so on and so forth until he gets to the couch) Hotch limps away from the kitchen.

He’s never been so thankful for his habitual manners as he sinks into the cozy couch and finds his heated blanket already plugged in and sitting on the lowest heat. A fire hazard? Yeah probably but if this damned blanket kills him one day then so be it. He finds some background noise in a nature documentary about penguins and closes his eyes, waiting for the blanket’s heat to soothe his old bones.

Despite how far he’s pushed himself down into the blanket, his body breaks out in a cold sweat. His chest tight and arm throbbing or maybe stabbing-- he can’t tell the difference right now just blinded by the pain. Blind and so stupid and as he sits up, shaking he’s shivering so hard, he knows what’s happening.

Haley used to dismiss his fears with soothing promises. She wouldn’t let something like this happen to him. They’d get old together “so old we start to wish one of us would just die and get it over with but every day I’ll turn over in our bed and find your craggy, old face right beside me and I know I’d still love you so much it hurts”. But Haley died before she even turned forty and he’s spent too many birthdays and anniversaries alone to know she couldn’t have meant that.

Drunk, vulnerable with the recent loss of Haley and the sudden return of Emily he’d admitted to this fear. Not just dying alone but of dying like his father-- a hated bastard on the outside with no family and no loved ones. To paint the wall with the horror in Dave and Emily’s face could stand as a solid reminder that he is loved but those faces mean nothing. The way that Emily had hugged him that night is nothing. Despite their assurances, he can feel his heart skipping beats. Painful kicks, each one.

He is alone. Gasping as he struggles to fight off his anxiety and crying through the agony ripping chest. Alone. Curled down into himself to try and find some comfort.

He manages to call 911. As he’s blinking tears from his eyelashes there’s a moment where the only number he can think of is Garcia. For years her number was his emergency number and now … He’s still thinking about her when the operator picks up but he’s losing his functions so fast. Settling back on the couch, using what’s left of his energy to tuck his feet back under his black he does his best to stay awake and hum in response to questions.

He thinks about Garcia. She’s always there, he finds, in his mind and every accident he’s had. Even during Boston despite the fact that she just joined the BAU. She’s always there and he wonders if she’ll appear this time. Talk his ear off about David Bowe but hold his hand tight enough that he never has to question if she’s really there.

Heart attacks hurt a lot worse than internal bleeding but he’d, personally, still put it under being actually stabbed.

He doesn’t hear the paramedics arrive or even feel the IV being placed in his arm. Though unconscious, he gives the faintest whimper of discontent as he’s lifted and pulled away from the couch. Not given the chance to brace for the cold winter air of March in Virginia just moving and moving fast.

“Agent Hotchner?”

He groans, turning his head from the penlight shining down in his face. Though he moves his face, he can’t escape the tight pressure across his ribs. Constricting tightly. The agent bit catches him by surprise-- he’s been “Mr” now for some time. Very few people still throw the “agent” in there.

“There you are--”

The sirens make it hard to hear. His hearing has been going for some time but if there’s one thing he can take from this encounter it might be that he should invest in the hearing aids he’s been putting off for a while now. He blinks up at the woman talking to him. Gently pumping a blood pressure cuff around his bicep and calling his name when his eyes slide back shut. He does try to stay awake but he’s in a lot of pain and he’s tired. Even retired he doesn’t get much sleep.

He’ll have to remember to tell JJ that. She’s always worried about his sleep schedule (or lack thereof) and thought, or rather hoped, his retirement would bring him the chance to finally catch up on two decades’ worth of lost sleep. She’ll be disappointed but not surprised.

It’ll give him a reason to reach out, to talk with them.

“Stay with me, Agent Hotchner.”

The world rocks and something that taste like plastic is placed over his face, wrapped around the back of his head.

“Deep breathes, you’re doing just fine.”

The cold air hits his sternum and his eye fly open, panicking as hands touch his bare skin. Oh, God. Foyet. I have to stop-- someone much stronger than him grabs his wrist. Two hands push his shoulders down into the gurney and he can’t fight. Can’t move.

“Agent Hotchner,” someone tries to calm him. “We’re trying to help you. I understand you’re in a lot of pain--”

He wants to go home. Away from the cold and the hands that keep touching him. “Dave?” he pants, turning his head and searching through the hazy mess of people. He cries softly, tears stinging his face as they slide down his face. He wants to recognize one person, to know one of the hands belongs to someone he trusts. Dave is okay. He likes it when Dave touches him. It’s calming and reassuring and he wants someone to call Dave. “Please,” he whimpers, curling his legs as he feels someone tear the worn fabric of his jeans. “No. No.”

He’s confused and he’s in pain and he wants all these people to stop touching him.

“Aaron--”

No, no he doesn’t like that. He cries out, failing to dislodge the hands as he kicks out. All his height, all the power he’s spent decades learning to command is useless. “I want to go home,” he rasps desperately. He can’t move, anymore. They’re holding him down and he can feel the drugs pumping into his arm. Too cold and too fast and it all hurts. Why are they hurting him?

“Just stay with us, Agent. We’re almost done and then--”

For the first time in nearly twenty years, all of his pain just is gone. He feels nothing for a blissful second. Around him, there’s a panic. The machines attached to him frantically going off as his heartbeat goes from rampant, wrong to gone. The pain comes back suddenly, sharper than before, and he turns his head with a moan as his lungs contract painfully. He coughs, rasping as his chest heaves.

He slips back under the haze but this time the pain stays.

He chokes as they try to intubate, fighting weekly but he’s too far gone to even move away from the touch anymore. Dave isn’t there. He wishes Dave were here. Dave always cups the side of his head, speaking in soft Italian that he’s never managed to pick up. But it’s soft and gentle and Dave. Garcia doesn’t hold his hand-- she always holds his hand. There’s not the soft scent of lavender that comes in with the hard rain that is Emily Prentiss. No one to jostle him for his carelessness and then crawl up into the bed with him. Reminding him of memories he’s nearly forgotten of when they were just kids.

No Jack.

Jack’s at college.

He comes in at 9:45 a.m.

By 10:15 a.m. there’s a doctor over his chest. A nurse makes quick work of trying to get a hold of a medical proxy. There’s a kid, he has a son, but there’s no contact information listed for him. She gets voicemail twice from the numbers that are listed.

Jessica is in a meeting. Her phone is on silent. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d had her phone. He’s thirty minutes away and his heart gives out only twenty minutes after he arrives at the hospital.

Dave is in Seattle, sitting in a puddle of rainwater and trying to contain his anger as Luke changes a tire on the SUV. His phone is too wet to work. He won’t get the news until nearly two hours later when he and Luke arrive back at the precinct. Emily will not cry for nearly a week after she gets the news. She tells Jack.

The doctors assure them that there was nothing they could have done. It was a freak accident. They always knew this was a possibility, an outcome that was very real with the amount of damage done to Aaron’s heart. It’s been broken so many times… And standing in that hospital, shivering under the intensity of the air conditioning and the white burning paint, they are left with the burden of knowing he protected them tell the very end.

But they never reciprocated that care.