#this post is a fascinating read because i was born blind in one eye

[weirdbees]

One thing I want to add for the writers out there is that, because I'm blind on the same side as my dominant hand, it changes the way that I shoot a gun/bow and arrow. Even though I'm right handed, if I shoot something like a shotgun or bow, then I need to use a left handed grip/position in order to aim, which made things a bit awkward and unnatural for me to learn. Even though I have never shot right handed with these types of weapons, I will still sometimes automatically pick it up in a right handed grip and have to realize my mistake when I go to aim.

I do, however, shoot right handed with handguns specifically, because I have the freedom to align it with my left eye!

Also, in case you were thinking it: no, I've been blind since birth, I did not shoot my eye out lol. And I'm also a great shot in spite of my depth perception. I'm always closing one eye!

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[the-real-sasuke-uchiha]

Sasuke, I’ve been thinking about this for a few days now. I used to think analyzing people’s reactions to the Uchiha genocide was fascinating. I would say to myself “wow, people treat this like it was some kind of ‘both sides were wrong’ type of thing but I’m sure if it was happening in front of them, they would think differently.” WELL. Now a genocide is happening in front of us and people are REACTING THE SAME WAY. “Oh it’s not a genocide, you are being dramatic.” “They deserved it because they’re all evil.” “Is**** has a right to defend itself against terrorists!” Holy moly… Literally word for word. I feel so naive to have believed in humanity as much as i did.

I feel you, my friend. I never talk about these things because I think it might be upsetting if an anime blog starts talking about real life genocides in between joke posts and memes. I also don't like to parallel fictional and real life crimes for fear that people will find it frivolous and offensive. So please, everyone reading this, know that this is not by any means my intention, and that I am not trying to use real life massacres to justify my take in this fandom or anything, I am just answering a friend here.

I don't know what to say, really, I lost all hope in humanity long ago too. But, it baffles me that I keep seeing people around me repeating the bullshit you describe. And it baffles me mostly because I see this coming too from good people that have nothing to win out of this infamy. Now you are thinking that "good people" would never find excuses to turn a blind eye to a genocide, but I can ensure you they are no monsters, they really aren't. They are not indifferent to human suffering, I saw them committed with other causes, I know they wouldn't hurt a fly, so what is wrong with them?

I am no psychologist so, forgive me if I say something dumb. But I think the thing is, reality is just to damn painful. You just can't accept it like that. A genocide, complete and atrocious extermination of a whole group of people, just because? Just based on hate and lies? Just to steal their land? And you are comfortable at your home, safe just out of sheer luck, because you were born in the right moment in the right place. Two very agonizing realities arise when you become aware of this. The first one is that you, citizen of the so-called "free world", convinced during your whole life that you have the voice and the power in your very democratic country, are practically impotent; unable to do anything or to help anyone, unable to even get your government to officially condemn the genocide, let alone to get them to stop sending weapons to the perpetrator. The second one is that you are only safe until your annihilation can be of purpose to the geopolitical interests of some dominant global power.

So, I believe blaming the victim is a defence mechanism to help us convince ourselves that bad things happen for a reason and that we could never be subjected to such cruelty. Similar to when we blame poor starving people for their bad choices, or when we blame women for being raped because, you know, they were dressed like that, they drank or whatever. We want to believe that we know better, that we are safe because we are clever and not because we are lucky, because that would mean our luck could end one day and we could be susceptible to monstrosities any time. And I guess that is unbearable.

And then, of course, we have the media bringing us those excuses. Thoroughly. Picturing the victims as terrorists for defending themselves and the aggressor as a victim with legit reasons to commit a genocide. It is extremely well-thought and intentional, from the language they use to the things that they decide to tell or not. They know very well how to manipulate people and how to redirect their feelings and empathy to fit the goals and interests of the very rich people behind mass media. Many people speak only one language, never left their homes, never met a foreigner. They have access only to mainstream tv channels and newspapers, and they will never believe anything different from what they consider "official". And you would expect something more from educated people, but even the school curriculum is designed to shape your mind in a particular way that fits the political interests of your nation.

And going back to fiction, of course, I understand that people have a right to enjoy whatever they want and like any character they want and this is no reason to judge their morality. But, indeed, like you, I also find parallels between the excuses people give to overlook or justify fictional massacres and the real ones. I guess fiction mirrors reality and this is why, sometimes, we live this fandom a bit to viscerally. Because when you see someone justifying a fictional genocide you imagine them doing the same in reality and, well. As you say, we don't really need to imagine that at all, it is happening.

[dracomort]

What is it about Draco that appeals to you? The same question with Tom. I found myself struggling to articulate to a friend as to why I found the characters to be so intriguing. This got me curious as to what you like about the characters and what you enjoy about reading/writing them.

Draco is not really a typical favourite character for me. I don't like cowardice nor incompetence and he has both in spades (the second-hand embarrassment is... a lot). He's a character who is a disappointment the vast majority of the time, and someone who redeems himself only in moments of faltering inaction, rather than any sort of grand stance. However, I find him a realistic and refreshing breath of fresh air in a universe full of righteous, selfless heroes. Draco is someone who only cares about problems when they affect him personally, someone who will happily turn a blind eye to the suffering of others so long as he is benefitting from it. To me, he's one of the only truly morally grey characters in HP, and that is very appealing.

I like how Draco struggles so much more than most of the teen characters with making the 'right' decisions, because to him, 'right' is not as straightforward as it is for someone like Harry. To make the morally 'good' decision and to protect the people he loves are one and the same for Harry. This isn't the case for Draco. There are no easy answers that don't betray or harm the people he cares about. Not to mention, Draco has no reason to be on Harry's side, nor any reason to believe he has any chance of defeating Voldemort. More so than any of the other students, Draco has seen the extent of Voldemort's power and brutality up close. That would put a damper on the enthusiasm of the most idealistic person, and Draco is hardly an idealist.

Also, just from a general likeability perspective - i think his shitty mean jokes are funny and I like spoilt rich kids.

Tom is a character I love especially from a writer's perspective because there's so much untapped potential to be explored both in his psyche and the missing years of his life. I would hate for WB to make a Tom Riddle prequel series, especially one helmed by JKR (who clearly can't even remember how to write Dumbledore anymore).

While it's a valid interpretation, I don't have much interest in born psychopath Tom. I will always prefer him as someone shaped primarily by his environment because well, there's more than enough there to make him the person he is. We only see Tom through Harry and Dumbledore's eyes and their view is limited and warped by their own biases (Dumbledore in particular). I have always found it fascinating that Dumbledore could look at a child who has never been loved and hence does not understand or value love, and see that as a personal failing of the child rather than a tragedy.

I don't remember who said it, but I remember seeing a response to a post here where a user said something along the lines of: 'most of us don't want to admit that given a similar upbringing, we'd end up more like Tom than Harry'. And I think there's a lot of truth in that. Tom is very much an imperfect victim, someone whose response to his circumstances is understandable yet heinous. Voldemort's hatred of Muggles is fascinating because it doesn't simply come from a perspective of bigotry and hatred of 'otherness', it comes from personal experience and first-hand knowledge. I don't know if giving him an institutionalised Great Depression childhood and a WWII adolescence was intentional, but it gives him such a fascinating layer of depth.

[twelvelms]

I haven't ever really talked about The Wizard Books and the author that wrote them on here. I grew up loving those books and it is a devastating thing to navigate as a grown up trans guy. It's partly because I live in the UK and said author is particularly litigious, and I'm a trans person with a precarious income whose job is to make shows for the internet, and I want to avoid attracting the author's attention if I can.

Though I loved those books, I've always been pretty critical of their central thesis. Part of what was interesting about the earlier books to me were the flaws in wizarding society, the moments where ministry propaganda seems to bleed through into conversations between children. How horrifying and fascinating a thing, I thought! I wonder where this is going.

By the later books in the series it was clear that these flaws weren't a part of the central message of the book in the way I thought they were, and I found that really disappointing, and then. Well. We all know what happened next!

When I was younger, I loved wolfstar. I had my house scarf and tie and I read and reread the books so much my copies began to disintegrate. When I missed a delivery of Order of the Phoenix, I rode my bike 3 miles into the town over where the postoffice returns place was, even though I never cycled on roads because I'm functionally blind in one eye and have no depth perception so I can't tell how far away the cars are. These books were a huge inspiration to me as a child; they're part of the reason I've been a writer since I could reliably hold a pen, and they're one of the reasons I was inspired to make Twelvelms.

If you go back far enough on the Spirit Box Radio tumblr, you'll probably still find posts I made prior to the start of the show about some of the characters in those books, talking about some aspects of them I found interesting that I felt were overlooked.

If you're looking at my list of influences for this show and thinking that these books are a glaring omission from them; yeah. I've deliberately not put them into any of the copy, even where I'm talking about the kind of works which inspired me to make this one because I don't want to bring a painful conversation into focus, and because I don't want to accidentally say something that might catch the attention of the author of those works, and because those works are EXTREMELY popular and if I compare anything I do to them, even to cite them as inspiration, there's a risk I'd look incredibly cocky.

In the world of Twelvelms, the system is broken. Propaganda bleeds into conversation. The characters have grown up with strange beliefs baked into everything they think is true about the world and how they interact with it, and many of those beliefs are harmful. Twelvelms University is a magical and exciting place with hidden rooms and Roman baths in the basement and hallways that whisper to you in the depths of the night. But it's also an institution that fundamentally fails the scholars inside of it.

The people in charge in this world are wrong. The fact the main characters end up in the positions that they do is a bad thing. They should never have been asked to make the choices they are forced to make in this show, but they are. The system is against them, and they didn't notice until they started to ask why things are the way they are.

Why is mage society so completely isolated? Why are half-mage children asked to leave their homes at 13 if they show a talent for magic? Why are Happeners - mages who are born into unmage families - forced to abandon their old lives, set up somewhere new, often in proximity to the most powerful mages in the Alliance? Why is it that when things went wrong in the past, there's suddenly a lack of certainty and information about how it happened and who was responsible?

These questions are at the heart of the story of the show and the world that it is set in.

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

Here is part 2 of my tentative series Interview With a Writer! If you want, you can read part 1 about the wonderful and talented bittersweetarts ♥ Just a BTS of some of the talented minds on Tumblr and ao3! 

Name: Ezran 

Story: Love is a Downfall on ao3

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x OFC

Rating/Warning: Explicit, sexual themes, depictions of violence and death. 

So, when did you start writing?

I started writing when I was quite young, around 2004-2005. At the time we were small communities, writing fanfiction and posting them on forums. It feels like a lifetime ago now… I feel old 👵🏻💀

Where did the plot for Love is a Downfall come from?

I saw a fanvid of Aemond and Visenya, if she had lived. The images used were of Freya Allan as Cirilla in the Witcher, and they also used some lines from this show to suggest Aemond and Visenya were somehow fated to each other and I fell in love with that idea.

In the video that idea was used to have her bound to Aemond, in a romantic way. I thought it was very fitting and an interesting idea to explore. I decided to tweak the timeline a bit as I didn't want a big age gap between the two.

What inspired your OC creation?

I wanted her to be strong and intelligent, with a vulnerable side as well. She’s the daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra, and I tried to imagine how a girl raised by these two would grow up to be. She gets their qualities as much as their faults. Also, she was born in quite a tense family situation and I wanted to explore how that would shape her.

Why do you think your OC compliments Aemond so well?

I think she compliments him because they share the same core values. They are both driven and dutiful, and they both share a passion for Targaryen ways. But also, they have both been made vulnerable by the same event (Aemond losing his eye, and Visenya carrying the burden of that night despite herself), and they understand each other. They’re both outsiders in their own families, in a way.

Explain your interpretation of Aemond Targaryen. What drives him? Why is he the way he is in LIAD? 

He was wronged, and even though his first intention is to seek revenge, deep down what he wants more than anything is to be seen and to belong. And Visenya sees him for who he is, she’s not blind to his flaws and she loves him anyway. When they are betrothed he sees it as a real chance to build his own family and to be recognized.

Was there another character in your story you enjoyed writing about? Why?

I loved writing Daemon, and the relationship he has with his daughter. He sees himself in her, in the way she pursues Aemond in the same way he tried to pursue Rhaenyra when she was young. I find him to be a fascinating character to write, as he’s morally gray and unpredictable. I also really loved writing Cregan Stark for some reason!

Will there be a sequel?

I have already posted two one-shots, and I am working on a bigger sequel focusing on Aemond and Visenya’s children as they grow up, and their relationship with each parent (and also a tiny bit of political headaches because I can’t help myself…)

(You can read her one-shot stories from her ao3.) 

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-One

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.

***

The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?

The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.

By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.

Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.

Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.

“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”

Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”

“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.

“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.

Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.

Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.

“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”

As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.

Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.

Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.

“What?”

“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.

“I agree, but—”

Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”

Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”

He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.

Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”

He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.

Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.

***

Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.

“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”

“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”

When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.

Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.

Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.

“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”

“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”

“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.

“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”

A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.

“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”

Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.

Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”

“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”

“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”

“Guys!” Nesta snaps.

Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”

Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”

“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”

Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”

“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.

“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”

“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”

“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.

“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”

“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”

“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.

Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”

“But it’s what he’ll think.”

“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.

Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”

“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”

“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”

Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.

“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”

Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.

Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”

Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”

“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”

Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”

“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”

“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.

There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”

Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.

In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.

When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.

“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.

“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.

A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.

“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”

Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.

Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”

“I can hear you,” Azriel says.

“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”

“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.

“So can I,” Emerie nods.

“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”

Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”

“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”

She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”

“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”

Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”

She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.

God, having friends sucks.

Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”

***

Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.

Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”

“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.

“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.

“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”

“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.

“What tone?” Cassian repeats.

Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”

“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”

“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.

“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”

She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”

But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?

He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.

Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.

Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.

“What are you doing?” Nesta says.

“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”

Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.

Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.

“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.

Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”

“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”

Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”

Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.

Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”

Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.

Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.

Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.

“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”

Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.

“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.

“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.

Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”

Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.

When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.

Az starts, “What a fake little—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”

Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.

“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.

Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.

“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”

Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”

Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”

He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.

“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.

“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.

Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.

“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.

“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.

“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.

Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.

Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”

Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”

Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”

Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”

Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”

“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”

That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.

Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.

God, sometimes having friends sucks.

***

a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland

[scapegrace74-blog]

Ginger Snap, Chapter 3

A/N  And just like that, here’s another chapter of Ginger Snap.  This one has no Chef!Jamie (at least not in person, but he is the invisible third presence in the room) but read it anyway!  He’ll be back in the next chapter, I promise.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my Ao3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

I appraised my reflection in a plate glass window.  Today was my thirtieth birthday.  I’d spent most of the day at a fancy salon having assorted hairs waxed, plucked and uncoiled.   Twenty minutes in the capricious October wind, and my sleek hairstyle was on the verge mutiny.  I smoothed it down as best I could with my palms, mentally shrugged my shoulders, then entered the upscale restaurant.

“Happy birthday, darling.”  Frank left a dry kiss on my cheek, careful to not mar my make-up, as he greeted me.  “You look very beautiful with your hair straight like that.”

It was clear why Frank had chosen the Witchery for my birthday celebration.  Nestled against Edinburgh Castle, it radiated history with its dark woods, tapestry-covered walls, burgundy banquettes and faux Tudor painted ceiling.  Everywhere crystal and silverware reflected the bountiful candlelight.  I pictured Jamie’s thick-soled work boots striding across the antique Persian carpets towards the kitchen and had to suppress a giggle.

Frank stood respectfully while the maître d’ pulled out my chair.  He played the part of the genteel academic to a tee.  Ten years’ my senior, he sported thick-framed glasses, a full head of dark hair and a trim figure that spoke more to abstemious habits than vigorous exercise.  Still, he was wearing his best tailored suit and the tie I’d bought him for Christmas.  I reminded myself that I was lucky to be in a relationship with a decent, courteous and dependable man who offered me the stability my tumultuous childhood had been sadly lacking.

We conversed quietly as we each perused the leather-bound menus, the noise of other diners a discrete background hum.  Frank told me all about the history of the sixteenth century oak panels that lined the room, and I listened politely.

“It’s so refreshing to see an establishment buck the trend of those horrendous open-style kitchens,” he pronounced with a dramatic shudder.

“Oh, I don’t know.  I rather enjoy watching the orchestrated chaos that goes into making my meal.  It’s like dinner theatre,” I contradicted.

“Some things are better appreciated unseen, darling.  It’s like that gaudy museum we visited in Paris.  Ductwork and elevator shafts on display along with the art.  It’s tremendously distracting, and not at all the point.”

He was referring to our visit to the Pompidou Centre the previous summer.  I had found the juxtaposition of modern art and naked architecture fascinating.   Frank much preferred the Louvre.

I was saved from having to defend my opinion by the arrival of our waiter.  Using a well-manicured fingernail to indicate his choices, Frank ordered for us both.

“The lady will have your Grand Cru Mambourg.  I’ll start with a Lagavullin 16, and proceed to the Chambolle-Musigny with my main course,” he said with conviction.

“Very good, sir.”  The waiter collected the enormous wine menu and decamped, having failed to even look me in the eye.  A little ember of resentment glowed in my belly.

“How did you know what wine to order when I haven’t told you what I’ve chosen as my main course?” I challenged once the waiter was out of earshot.

Frank looked perplexed, as though we were acting in a play and I’d suddenly said the wrong lines after countless perfect dress rehearsals.

“It’s your birthday, darling.  You always get lobster for your birthday.”

I thought about this.  He wasn’t wrong.   I liked lobster.  The first time we celebrated together in Boston, on my twenty-fifth birthday, it had felt like a sophisticated, grown-up choice.  But I never intended for it to become my only option.

The rest of the meal passed without event.  Frank was more animated than usual, reaching across the table to caress my hand twice and joking that his Angus steak tartare appetizer made him feel like a veritable red-blooded carnivore.

Once our plates were cleared Frank cleared his throat and squared his shoulders in a way that reminded me of the day he announced that we would be moving to Edinburgh.  Now what? I wondered.

“Claire.  Darling.  I think you know how happy you make me, and how delighted I am that we’re building this new life together back in the UK.  Your thirtieth birthday is such a special occasion, and I think it’s fitting that we mark it with something momentous.”

He reached across the table and took my left hand in his right.  His skin was cool and dry against my oddly numb palm.  I considered whether I might be going into cardiac arrest.  My heart felt untethered in my chest, leaping towards my throat and then plunging into my gut.  I concentrated on taking short, sipping breaths so that I didn’t regurgitate lobster all over the pristine white table linens.

Frank continued, unaware of my turmoil.  “I’d like us to be married within the year.  That way, our children will be born before you enter the high-risk years.  A late-spring wedding sounds lovely, don’t you think?”

He looked at me expectantly, so it must be my turn to speak.  The problem was I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“I’m sorry, are you asking me to marry you?” I managed to ask around my stomach, which had joined my heart in my throat.

Frank chuckled.  “Of course I am, darling.  Isn’t this what we always planned?”

Strictly speaking, it was what Frank had always planned.  He’d certainly never made any secret of the fact that matrimony and a family were what he saw in our future.  So why was I blind-sided?  It felt as though I had been driving a practical four-door sedan with an excellent crash test rating at highway speed, only to suddenly realize that nothing happened when I pumped the brakes.

I said the next thing that came into my malfunctioning brain.

“What about my licensing exams?”

“There really won’t be time, darling.  Planning a wedding is a full-time job in itself, from what I hear.   We need to get moving if we’re to have two children.  You aren’t getting any younger, you know.”

I nodded weakly as though this made some kind of sense.  Frank took the gesture as silent acceptance of his hyper-practical proposal, clapping his hands together in delight in a way that made me jump.

“Marvelous.  Now, I know that you’re very particular about jewelry, so I thought it best that we shop for a ring together.  But I wouldn’t dream of celebrating your special day without giving you something tangible.  Happy birthday, Claire.”

He pulled an envelope from his inside jacket pocket and slid it across the table.  My fingers trembled and twitched as I tried to open the seal.  Inside was a certificate printed with a familiar logo.   I looked at Frank in shock.  How did he know?

“I know how much you want to learn to cook.  This place has an excellent reputation, despite their ridiculous name.  They offer group lessons, but only at their location in Leith.  I suppose the rent is cheaper there, but clearly that was out of the question.  Fortunately, I was able to arrange something more suitable with the owner, so you’ll be learning at home from a private chef!”

At that moment our waiter reappeared carrying a bowl of dark, rich-looking pudding.  As he placed it on the table in front of me, the spicy vapours of whisky assaulted my nose.  With a flourish, the waiter extracted a long-handled lighter and ignited the liquor.  Through the ensuing burst of purple flame, Frank’s familiar features transformed into something far more sinister.

[glassessence]

PGR - OC

I got so inspired by everyone’s creativity that I created my own OC ^^” Even though she’s a member of the Purifying Force, I hope she’ll still be received warmly. Special thanks to @punishing-gray-raven-ocs​ for their detailed posts about character creation that really made me think about Lydias! 

Warning: I may have gone a bit overboard with the detail. It’s a long read! Also, I threw in a not-so-subtle reference to the most traumatic Memory Rescue mission lmao. So proceed with caution, I guess HAHA

Name                          Lydias: Umbral

Type                            Offensive Support-type Construct

Service time              1 year

Psychological age    24

Activation date         15 March

Height                         167 cm

Weight                        59 kg

Vital fluid type          O

Faction                        Purifying Force

Rank                            A

Weapon                      Chakrams (preferred) /  Gun

Damage type             70% Dark, 30% Physical

Lydias is a support-type Construct modelled after Watanabe’s Astral frame. She has extreme stealth capabilities and excels at tracking, making her ideal for the execution of rogue and infected Constructs.

Her missions mostly involve infiltration and spying, although she’s also been deployed on assassination missions. Those orders come straight from Nikola and their records are kept top-secret, inaccessible even to Bianca.

Her frame is designed for long-range sniping and comes equipped with visual accuracy enhancements and superb calculative powers. However, Lydias prefers to engage her targets in close combat. Killing Constructs from afar feels cruel and cold, like they really are meaningless machines instead of former comrades.

She truly believes in the good of the Purifying Force, but hates the things she has to do. She doesn’t feel like she belongs, but also can’t see a future for herself anywhere else.

Her fighting style is very graceful, featuring a lot of spins and flips that are reminiscent of a dance. Her signature move is called “Blade Dance.”

B A C K G R O U N D 

Lydias was born to a wealthy family in Babylonia. Her mother joined the war effort as a Commandant shortly after she was born and is known as the leader of the elite task force, Cybele. Since then, Lydias has always wanted to follow in her mother’s famous footsteps.

Originally a Commandant of the Black Wolves, a certain incident caused her to give up the position and apply for reconstruction. Despite having low compatibility for Tantalum-193, her application was approved after negotiations with Nikola. Following her surgery, she was transferred to the Purifying Force.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Shows affection through actions rather than words. Bakes cakes for the humans of Babylonia in her free time

Philosophical, often ponders on the nature of humans and of the war

Likes to make dirty jokes and tease others

Obedient to a fault because she doesn’t trust her own judgement

Comes across as cold, but is just awkward with introductions

Doesn't think very highly of herself. Ignores it when other Constructs call her "traitorous hunting dog" but secretly thinks they're right

Loves the sea and the fathomless depths yet to be explored. Likes to go swimming at every opportunity

Prefers to work alone, but overprotective of her comrades when in a team. Frequently throws herself in harm’s way to shield her teammates. Knows it’s not good, but is too haunted by her past

Trusts easily, but is very guarded with her heart

Knows how to dance a lot of old-school styles like ballroom and ballet, but is too shy to ask anyone to practice with her

S E C R E T S

Has memorised a lot of poetry from before the Punishing Virus outbreak

Gets intensely lonely and jealous when seeing close squad camaraderie like Gray Raven’s

Avoids Kamui because he reminds her of someone she’s lost

Has spied on Watanabe extensively under Babylonian orders and is deeply fascinated by him

Doesn’t trust Nikola, but is unable to disobey his commands

Secretly harbours doubts about Babylonia’s mission to reclaim Earth

Has obtained special permission to download the data of the Black Wolves and often reads the records to keep them alive in her heart

V O I C E   L I N E S

“Team leader? No, I refuse. You’re making a grave mistake.”

“I’m not suited for protecting people.”

“My opinion on the Forsaken? They’re hardworking, loyal, and--Nevermind. We seem to share a similar goal.”

“The Black Wolves? Where did you hear of that name?! Don’t mention it again!”

“I baked a cake today. Would you like some?”

“Yes, I can dance. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell the others…”

“I can teach you to dance. Privately, if you’d like. Haha, just kidding.”

“Becoming a Construct was a decision I made rashly. I don’t necessarily regret it, but…”

“Are we really doing the right thing? This endless war… All these years… What have we really achieved?”

INTERLUDE

D U S K F A L L

A voice cracked over the intercom. “...dant…Com...ant...Commandant, do you hear me?!”

Lydias blinked. The urgency in his voice caught her off guard. Ferdinand kept his cool even in the most dire of situations. Something was very wrong. “Tell me, Ferdie.” Static. “Ferds? Come through!” Nothing. Communications had been poor ever since they’d entered this area, but they’d managed until now. For it to suddenly fail like that… it couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Shit,” she said, turning to the other two Constructs with her. “On guard, guys. Something’s coming and comms are down.”

Ilya grimaced. “Sure it’s not one of Ferdinand’s pranks again?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Flora offered, even as she tightened her grip on her lance. “Pesky little bastard would find it hilarious.” Lydias said nothing. She was too tense. There was a taste in the air, a metallic tang that churned in her belly. Sweat dripped into her eye. Suddenly, a hand slapped her on the back. “Relax, Commandant,” Ilya chuckled. “We’ll protect you like always. No need to be so scared all the time.”

Something in her loosened, just a bit. “Shouldn’t I be the one protecting you?” she retorted, trying to project confidence. “You guys with your fragile little M.I.N.Ds?” Flora laughed, a deep-belly rumble that Lydias loved. The knot in her stomach unravelled some more. “You do that, Commandant,” Flora said. “We’ll just twirl our pointy sticks at the bad guys.”

Lydias was just about to say something snarky when she caught movement in the corner of her eye. She swirled, gun at the ready. There was still no word from Ferdinand. “I’m sensing a large Corrupted force in our perimeter,” Ilya reported. His voice had lost its casual lilt. “They’ve got us surrounded.”

Lydias cursed. “How’s that Memory retrieval coming along?”

“Slowly,” Ilya replied unhappily. Flora clicked her tongue. The Corrupted were visible now. They weren’t like anything Lydias had seen before. They carried advanced weapons - chainsaws and spears and bows - and seemed to be organised into phalanxes. Dread coiled in her belly. “We’ve been ambushed,” she breathed in horror. “Ferdinand tried to warn us. They must have blocked off comms.”

“Well, shit,” Flora grunted. The Corrupted army was within gunshot range now. “When the fuck did they get so smart?”

“Someone must be leading them,” Ilya said. “How did the information leak?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lydias said. “We need to retreat. Now.” A bullet flew by her head, burning the shell of her ear as it passed. Her heart hammered. “Back off,” Flora growled. She twirled her spear, eyes flashing as she impaled the Corrupted soldier. Beside her, Ilya stepped forward, fast as a flash, and stabbed one through the neck. Lydias fired off three shots, watching in grim satisfaction as two buried themselves in the heads of two infected Constructs.

The scene descended into chaos just as Ferdinand’s broken voice sounded in her ear. “...n...way! Comm...ant!”

-----------

Flora stumbled back. She was breathing heavily. Vital fluid leaked steadily from several places, staining her coat a rich purple. Ilya was behind her, grimacing. His left arm was gone, torn away at the shoulder. Sparks flew from the exposed wires within. Beside them, Lydias swayed unsteadily. She clutched at her stomach. Red blood seeped through her fingers. All their attempts to break through had failed. Things were looking more hopeless by the minute. 

“Commandant,” Ilya said, voice strained. “Turn off my pain receptors.” Flora nodded. “Same here.” Lydias coughed wetly. Her vision was growing dim. “It’s dangerous,” she admitted, wishing she could shut off her own terrible pain. “But there’s no other choice.” She authorised the command. Her team’s face relaxed immediately. She met their determined gazes and nodded. “We’re all gonna go home. Together.”

Ilya smiled. Flora grinned. But there was a sadness in their faces Lydias didn’t want to acknowledge. Her connection with Ferdinand was still blocked. He could be dead for all she knew. She turned away from the thought. Just survive, Lydias. And take the Wolves home.

Together, the Black Wolves rose. Ilya with his dagger and Flora with her spear. Unseen by Lydias, they nodded to each other. An agreement, a pact. A promise. Renewed, they threw themselves at the Corrupted like cornered animals. Slowly, inch by painful inch, an exit was being forced open. Corrupted weapons dug into their bodies, but they pushed on. 

Lydias fought beside them, swinging her chakrams haphazardly. Her gun had run out of ammo long ago. She stumbled, half-blind, and almost skewered herself on the end of a Corrupted sword. She could hardly think straight; blood loss was making her weak. Suddenly, a voice crackled in her mind. “Commandant!” Ferdinand’s voice tumbled through her hazy thoughts. “The signal jammer is gone. What’s your status?!”

Her heart soared, bringing with it a brief burst of clarity. “Ferdie! It’s an ambush. We need support!”

“I’ve already informed Babylonia,” he said urgently. “Reinforcement is on the way. I’m coming to you, Commandant. Just hold on!” His signal blinked to life, moving rapidly towards their location. Lydias smiled grimly. Ferdinand was on his way. Support was coming. Surely, they would be okay. They would make it out of this. She just had to hold on for a little longer. 

Flora’s signal pulsed unsteadily and Ilya’s grew fainter with every breath. Lydias clung with desperation to the unstable M.I.N.Ds of her Wolves. I will protect you.

-----------

“Coming through!” A ray of energy tore through the Corrupted wave. Lydias spied Ferdinand’s face through the sea of blades. She almost wept with relief. “Retreat,” she said hoarsely, struggling to stay conscious. “Black Wolves, retreat!”

On cue, Ilya and Flora rushed through the tunnel, half-carrying Lydias with them. Between one ferocious breath and the next, they’d broken through the Corrupted circle. She tumbled bonelessly into Ferdinand’s open arms. He took a brief moment to survey her and paled. “The meeting point isn’t far,” he said. “Support will be there.” He picked up Lydias and turned to run, but Ilya and Flora didn’t follow. 

“Sorry, but this is the end of the road for me,” Flora said wryly. “Didn’t think it’d end like this.” She spat out a wad of purple fluid. “At least these fuckers will go down with me.”

“And you get the privilege of dying by my side,” Ilya said primly, readjusting his grip on his dagger. Flora laughed, an edge of sadness in her voice. “Yeah, old man, I guess I do.”

Lydias stirred in Ferdinand’s arms. “No,” she said, forcing herself to meet their gazes. “I won’t allow it.” 

“Unfortunately, Commandant,” Ilya said. “This time it’s not up to you.” He raised his remaining hand in a salute. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Go on,” Flora growled. “We’ll make sure nobody pursues you.”

Ferdinand pursed his lips, but nodded tightly. Lydias fought in his grip. She hardly even felt the pain. “No!” she screamed, or tried to. It was hard to tell where her voice was. “Don’t! I forbid it! That’s an order!” He started running. She watched helplessly as the distance grew. “Stop! Go back, we have to help them! Stop!”

In the fading light, Ilya fell and was immediately consumed by a horde of Corrupted hands. His signal weakened then blinked out. A scream tore itself from her throat. She thrashed in Ferdinand’s grip and felt his hold on her loosen. White-hot pain shot through her body as she tumbled to the ground. Mad with grief, she crawled forward desperately, mind blank except for the desire to be with her Wolves. 

Strong arms lifted her up. Ferdinand’s lively voice was dull. “Please don’t do this, Lydias.” 

“Let go, Ferdie,” she said angrily. “We have to--” Flora’s signal flickered out. Lydias felt her spirit break. “No,” she cried. “Please, no.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Words abandoned her. The world seemed to shrink, compacting to a single thought: she had failed. 

-----------

She woke to white light. Something beeped steadily beside her. Tubes ran from her body to several machines like the tentacles of some deep sea creature. Her entire body hurt. Immediately, she reached for the Black Wolves, but their signals were absent, leaving her mind uncomfortably empty. Panic settled like ice in her veins. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. 

Surely, they had recalled their consciousnesses. Surely, she’d simply woken up early. And where was Ferdie? Gasping, Lydias stood, dragging her broken body to the wall of windows. She brought a fist to the cool glass. Nikola watched her from the other side. “Where are they,” she croaked. “What happened?”

He shook his head sympathetically. “They didn’t recall their consciousness. According to our records, Ilya and Flora died protecting you from pursuit. Ferdinand was infected.” His eyes were grave. “He guarded you until reinforcements arrived.”

She didn’t know if she could bear the answer, but she asked anyway. “And then?”

Nikola studied her for a long moment before giving in. “And then the Punishing Virus took over his M.I.N.D. He escaped because we prioritised your survival.” A desperate hope sparked to life within her. “So he’s still alive? Then there’s still a chance! Please, let me find him!”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” 

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

He turned away from her. “The Purifying Force has already been sent after him. I’m sorry, Lydias.”

-----------

Three weeks later

“Are you sure?” Nikola asked, studying her with intensity. “Your chances of success are only 47%.”

Lydias stared at him blankly. “I’m sure.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow it. Commandants are valuable to Babylonia. Perhaps even more than Constructs. Few possess the will and compatibility to stabilize M.I.N.Ds. Someone as experienced as you is not expendable.”

“Then I quit being a Commandant. I refuse to lead another squad.” She looked away. “I couldn’t protect any of them. Not a single one.” Her voice broke. “I’m not… I don’t think I can--I just can’t.”

Nikola considered her with some pity. “What do you want then, Lydias?”

“You know what I want. I’m not afraid of dying.”

“I know you’re not afraid, but it seems to me like you seek it.”

She said nothing. Nikola sighed. “I’d rather not lose you completely. You have experience and ability. The Black Wolves were specifically chosen for that mission for your competence. Aife will increase our combat power significantly against the Corrupted.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s unfortunate, but these things happen at war.”

“Say whatever you want,” Lydias said stubbornly. “But this is my final decision.”

“Fine,” Nikola said. “Your attempt at redemption is admirable. I’ll grant your request, but if you survive, you’ll work directly under me. Is that acceptable?”

“Perfectly.”

INTERLUDE HIDDEN CHAPTER

F A D I N G   L I G H T

Flora: Fairfrost - Voice Log 

*sounds of fighting* I hope this reaches you, Commandant. I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer and… *grunting* I just wanna say goodbye. The old man’s already gone. I felt his signal die out a while ago. He went down taking a blade for me, can you believe it? Even though I’m the Attacker Construct. *panting* You know what his last words to me were? “It hurts.” As if our pain receptors weren’t turned off. I know what he means though. *blades clashing* After all, we all wanna go back home with you. But life’s a bit unfair, eh? For once, I don’t mind. Protecting your back… it almost makes me feel like a hero. That ain’t something you experience every day, y’know? *metal tearing* I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. For being someone worthy of love. *crash, wet coughing* It’s been my honour and privilege to have been one of your Wolves, Commandant. You’ll remember me, won’t you?

-----------

Ferdinand: Aegis - Voice Log 

Lydias… This will probably be my last communication with you. I never would have thought this would be how it ends, but… Well, I’m just glad that I get to spend my final moments with you. I can feel my M.I.N.D. slipping, but Babylonia will be here any second now. They’ll take care of you, the way I wish I could. *sigh* Ah, there are so many things I want to say. I have nothing to lose anymore, so I hope you’re ready to listen. *deep breath* I love you. The way you laugh at my jokes and tease me. The way you can talk about anything. Your smile, your lips. I love the way you kiss me. And of course, I love our late night activities… Such as you trying to teach me to dance. *short laughter* Were you expecting me to say something else, Commandant? You--*grunt, glitching* Looks like my time is running out. I should go, but promise me one thing, Lydias. Promise me you’ll keep your heart open, so that someone else can love you as you deserve. I--You--*glitches*

DATA CORRUPTED.

[mangamushi]

Thoughts on Panorama of Hell

 (HINO Hideshi, 1 volume, 1984)

(warning for spoilers and disturbing topics)

In Panorama from Hell, a painter obsessed with depicting hell takes the reader on a journey to discover his life. His work, his neighborhood, his family members and family history are presented to paint a bleak and violent picture of hell on earth.

Hideshi Hino is a very big name of horror manga. Panorama of Hell is one of Hino’s most famous and acclaimed manga, and represents in many ways the quintessence of his style. When he draw Panorama, he thought it would possibly be his last horror manga (he didnt actually stop after that, though).

It displays all his favorite themes and even blatantly recycles ideas from his previous works. It is therefore is a very good entry point for anyone interested in Hino’s stuff. One the other hand, it feels a bit redundant when you are already familiar with his work, especially if you have read Lullaby from Hell, as both manga are very similar. 

As the title suggests, Panorama takes place in a hellish setting, described in great details by the main character.  He is a painter who uses his own blood to paint, and the world he lives is horrible in many ways: from his window he sees an execution platform operating non-stop, a stream full off trash and corpses runs next to his house, he lives in the smell of burning bodies because of the next-door crematorium... 

These first few chapters are so insistent on being as abhorrent as possible that I found it hard to take seriously. In the beginning it felt so exaggerated and lacking any subtlety  that it almost felt a bit comical at times, like the author was just stacking awful things on more awful things for shock value.

“his daily routine”

And it keeps escalating from there. Next, his family is introduced: cruel children with a dark sense of curiosity, a beautiful wife who seems straight out of a classic japanese horror tale (pale skin and long black hair, wearing traditional clothes...), until we go back in time to witness the story of his grand-parents and parents. 

It gradually becomes more interesting, especially the part about his family which shows deeply ingrained violence and insanity getting passed down from a generation to the next. It culminates when historical events (WWII and its aftermath, the atomic bombings) are shown, intertwining with the painter’s personal story.

Different kinds of hells complete each other (ambient with initial setting and scenery of desolation, a more personal hell with the intra-familial violence, and the wider-scale historical hell of war).

Overall, I find Hino less imaginative than  fellow “horror masters” Junji ito and Kazuo Umezu. Those two can come up with the craziest ideas, whereas Hino’s scenarios and imagery are somewhat more expected/conventional for horror. 

But perhaps the most interesting part of Panorama is the way it blurs the borders between reality and fiction. First of all, the main character, an artist who specializes in depicting horror, acts as a stand-in for Hino himself. This is fairly common in his work, his other manga Lullaby from hell even has an extremely similar character overtly present himself as Hino: 

The artist from Panorama is making his last, best painting, just like Hino who was thinking of ending his mangaka career with his strongest work.  Both the painting and the manga share the same title, “Panorama of Hell”. 

 The similarities between Hino and his main character don’t end here, and many elements of the story are actually taken from Hino’s own life: his grandfather really was a yakuza, his brother went into a coma, his father was pig farmer with a tattoo on his back...

Just like the painter, Hino grew up in the context of the direct aftermath of WWII. Both the character and the author were born in Japanese-occupied China, and were nearly killed when their family fled back to Mainland-Japan after the country’s loss. He takes inspiration from his own life and in the traumatizing things he witnessed and lived through to draw his manga. It is hard to discern what is fiction or not in the painter’s story. Many elements are obviously fantastical and folklore-ish, like the beheaded ghosts visiting the wife’s bar (this chapter feel like a tone-shift, it is much more whimsical, with the corpses happily eating their own body parts), yet the references to real historic events like the war and Hiroshima bombing still links Panorama of Hell to reality, to our world. 

The painter’s insanity makes him an unreliable narrator. Indeed, at the end of the story, the current members of the painter’s family (his wife, his daughter and son, his brother...) are revealed to have been fake all along : the wife and children are a mannequin and puppets, the brother is a pig’s corpse...

Moreover, by having the painter address the reader directly (”let me show you...”) Hino breaks the fourth wall that should separate the world of fiction from reality.

 This culminates at the very end of the book, where the painter throws an axe at the reader to kill them.

Hino’s art style is really simple and easily recognizable. The way he draws body horror and wounds isn’t very realistic, which makes the gore parts less shocking. His character’s simple, soft, deformed appearance reminds me of modeling clay or perhaps melting plastic toys.

I am even tempted to describe his style as cute. The big eyes, round features, and the way his characters are often miserable and mistreated by others...it is cute in a pitiful way.

Hino draws lots of babies, children, and baby animals which adds to both the cuteness and the horror. It also helps that I share Hino’s fondness for insects, worms and other similar crawling creatures...

There are figures based on his works that are just too cute! 

Hino often puts animals in his stories and even merges animals and humans. He writes stories where people transform into animals (Bug Boy) or give birth to inhuman creatures ( Unusual Fetus -My Baby ). Human bodies are more often than not hosts to parasites and maggots (Mermaid in a manhole...).

In Panorama of Hell, humans are executed one after the other like livestock in a slaughterhouse, and their bodies get dumped in a stream where they mix with other dead animals. Beheaded bodies try to put animal heads on to feel complete again, and the painter’s daughter is obsessed with animal corpses that she collects and dissects.

He doesn’t use any screen tones, nor does he use a lot of crosshatching as a mean to create different shades of grey, so the jet black ink creates a stark contrast against  the white of the paper. Some pages are beautiful and esthetically pleasing in spite of the repulsive contents. Especially towards the end of the book, which depict strange surrealist imagery as the world is falling apart.

His frequent use of pitch black silhouettes reminds me of shadow play theater  (which originates from China where Hino was born), as well as of Kamishibai (street theater using paper, which was very popular in post-war Japan). 

Kamishibai originates from buddhist temples and was often used to spread buddhist teachings.

Hino makes uses of buddhist concepts and imagery in his depiction of hell. Panorama of Hell could be compared to the Hell Scroll, a famous scroll describing the Chinese Buddhist conception of hell with text and pictures. 

↑ The “Blood Lake” and “Needle Moutain” in this panel refers to two of the different kinds of hells depicted in the Hell Scroll. The blood lake is exclusively for women.

Young women are only thing that are drawn in a conventionaly beautiful way.  However, finding beauty and fascination in the most horrendous things is a central point of Hino’s body of work. His characters are either artists or collectors obsessed with what fits their strange idea of beauty (cf. Flower of Flesh and Blood, where a woman’s dismemberment is an act of creation and a research of ideal beauty in the perpetrator’s eyes).

The contrast between the solid black shadows and the untouched white of the paper can give the impression that a strong, blinding light is hitting the world. The violent light emitted from an explosion, for example. Which is fitting, giving the importance of the Hiroshima atomic bomb in the story and its repercussions that still dawn on the characters years later. It’s like the characters are constantly bathed in the harsh light of the bombings. 

The Hiroshima bomb is called a “gigantic emperor from hell”, it rules over the character’s lives, even years after it was dropped. As a child, the painters created a replica of the mushroom cloud that he worships like a god.

Panorama of Hell is a very dark and pessimistic work, displaying a world where there is no hope and nothing is spared (not even the reader, who receives the painter’s axe!). In fact, the main character was already doomed before he was even born. Indeed, he is the child of the Hiroshima bomb itself: his mother got pregnant as she was hit by a beam from the explosion. 

[evandearest]

The Garden of Eden | Part II: Reflection

Pairing: James March x reader (you) |  ~Part: (2/4)~

Summary (Part Two): When memories are all that clouds your vision, how do you begin to break cycles and live in the present? Can you overcome your irrational fear when paradise is only a memory of long ago? Living through hell can make or break you.

Warnings (in this part): Slight PTSD, that’s all I would say.

Word count: 3,586

Notes: I’m so excited to be posting this! This part is quite a bit longer than the last one. I absolutely loved writing it though! Be on the lookout for many metaphors, biblical references, and *reflective* events. This part is complex in many ways, and a lot of things tie into one another. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!!

Also a side note, if you’d like to be on the tag list for this series just let me know!

Tag List: @etoile-writings @haileyybird @ietss

An odd feeling settled upon you as rays of sunlight blinded your eyes. Something wasn’t right. You couldn’t exactly pin it down, but all you knew was that you felt calm. Calm was not a part of you, as much as you portrayed to others that it was. Spending nearly ten years with a man you didn’t trust could do that to you.

The bed underneath you was soft, the scent in the air surrounding you lavender. You wondered for a moment where you were, your heart jumping as your eyes glanced around you frantically. That’s when you remembered: you were in James’ hotel. James’.

Your nerves lessened when you thought about James, a small smile curling your lips. As soon as you had arrived at the hotel, he insisted that you get a room to yourself to get the best rest possible. He’d even sent his maid to give you a basket of everything lavender to help you sleep: candles, essential oils, soap. He practically spoiled you the minute you arrived. You couldn’t deny how good it felt, though. You felt like a queen.

You sat up in bed, wondering where the man pervading your thoughts was. You glanced at your side table, noticing the vase of white roses immediately. When had those gotten there? The tiny card leaning against the vase caught your attention in particular. You reached for it and opened it. The small note was in James’ neat handwriting, reading:

“Good morning, darling. Gather yourself and meet me in the lounge. I do hope my accommodations suited you. Yours truly, JPM.”

You smiled, your curiosity spiraling at the thought of what he had planned for you. You quickly jumped out of the bed, going to the bathroom to get ready. You noticed immediately of all the things in this bathroom that weren’t normally in hotel bathrooms. There were tons of beauty items for women that most men don’t even know exist. You knew it was James. He was so thoughtful, giving you anything you could possibly need and more. James had taken the time to be sure you had everything. Your heart fluttered at the thought, excitement settling within you. James really did have everything, and now you had James. You knew it was going to take a long while before you were used to this luxurious treatment, but you weren’t complaining. You’d dreamed of living this kind of life since you were merely a child.

Once you had showered, gotten dressed, and did your hair and makeup, you were ready. You smiled at your reflection. James had picked the most fashionable clothing to put in your closet, and you simply loved having a reason to dress up in general. But it wasn’t even about you, in reality. You wanted James to see how much you appreciated everything he was doing, so you were going to make sure that you put all he gave you to use. It was all for James. You were going to spend every second doing as much as you could for him. He had saved you, after all. You couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened if James hadn’t arrived when he did. That was the worst argument that you and Robert had ever had.

You scolded yourself for thinking of Robert. You needed to focus on now, on the new life you were beginning. You couldn’t just shake it off, though. You still felt the need to be vigilant, to walk on egg shells. You sighed. You didn’t want to be in a bad mood today, of all days. James needed to see how much you appreciated and cared for him. You took a deep breath. Just focus on now, you told yourself, before taking one last look at your reflection.

When you entered the lobby, you were surprised to be greeted immediately by James’ maid, Miss Evers.

“Right this way, Ms. Y/L/N,” the woman smiled, gesturing with her arm for you to follow. She made her way up the stairs, you following behind curiously. It was as if she was escorting you somewhere. Your questions weren’t left unanswered for long, however, as you found your answer at the top of the stairs.

The entire bar was empty, which seemed odd compared to it’s usually bustling atmosphere. The dining area was decorated to the brim with white roses, all surrounding a table in which had plates full of fruit, pancakes, eggs, and many other breakfast foods. You gasped quietly at the extravagance as your eyes landed on James, who stood in front of it all, hands clasped together politely as he awaited you. He smiled at the sight of you.

“Hello, darling,” he greeted, walking over and offering an arm to you. You stared at him in disbelief for a moment, a wave of déjà vu coursing through you. 

You remember you were so excited. Los Angeles was a gorgeous city in it’s own, and you felt so lucky to have been born in a city in which held so much opportunity. You were merely fourteen; barely old enough to even think for yourself, but you’d always been smart. Your mother had assured you of that since you were born, always putting your education above all else. She’d told you, “One day when all the distractions of young age are gone, you’ll realize why you need to be prepared.” You hadn’t understood why then, but the words had always stuck with you. It was one of the first times that she had trusted you on your own. Most of the time, she had always put her fear for your safety first, but on that day she had given in to your pleas.

She had let you walk to the garden of white roses, three blocks down, by yourself. When you thought about it now, you realized just how defining that moment of your life was, because what happened when you got to that garden had changed your life forever.

White roses had always been your favorite flower, ever since you had first passed that blooming Southern California garden at three years old. The owner was a tiny sweet elder lady, gracious and elegant as ever. She had owned the garden her entire life; it was her pride and joy. She’d always welcomed polite visitors, and if she caught you, she’d tell you all about the flowers, and how special they were. She said that they had brought to her all of the pleasantries that her life held; love, wealth, and even an eternal feeling of youth. That’s why she never picked or sold them, she said; “if you betray the rose, the rose no longer profits you.” Some people said that she was a witch; you just thought she was sweet, maybe a little kooky, but nice nonetheless. You had grown to look up to her.

When you had arrived at the rose garden on that day, however, you were greeted with a new presence foreign to you. The boy stood as still as a statue, his eyes raking over his surroundings. Based upon his height and physical appearance, you had assumed that he was about the same age as you. You watched him as he picked a rose from the bush, bringing it up to his nose to smell. You approached him quietly.

“If Mrs. Smith knew you picked one of her flowers, she’d claim treason,” you said, catching the boy’s attention. He looked at you in bewilderment.

“Where did you come from?” he asked quietly. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m sneaky,” you said jokingly with a teasing smile. He blinked, his confusion still evident. “But seriously,” you continued, “you better hope she doesn’t see you. She doesn’t like people who disturb her flowers. In fact, she’d probably curse you.” At that, the boy smirked.

“Is she a witch?” he asked, his eyes sparkling.

“Some people think so,” you replied, walking closer to him. “If you ask me, I think people should listen to her. She’s very intelligent.” You nudged his side, watching him to gouge his reaction. He raised his eyebrows, watching you carefully.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, for one, she’s ancient. That gives her some credits. For another, she grew this garden, and she’s experienced much more than most people. You should hear her stories.” You smiled as you plucked the rose from the boy’s hand and twirled it between your fingers, admiring it.

“She sounds fascinating.”

“She is.” After a moment of silence, you looked up at him, only to catch his eyes. You smiled shyly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“James March,” the boy said, offering his hand to you.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N,” you introduced yourself in return, smiling up at him.

There was another moment of silence, the both of you just staring at one another. James suddenly took the rose from you again. He pulled a knife from his pocket, your heart stuttering slightly at the sight of it. But James didn’t try to harm you, he simply chopped the stem of the rose off. His hand came up to your face as you smiled nervously at him.

“I think your wrong,” he said, tucking the rose in your hair behind your ear. He stepped back, smiling softly at you. “See? Sometimes even dying flowers can serve a beautiful purpose. It’s a sacrifice. Sacrifices aren’t evil.” You paused, a shy blush forming on your cheeks at his actions.

“I never thought of it that way,” you whispered, reaching up to tuck the rose more firmly behind your ear. You smiled at James, a weird feeling you’d never felt before settling upon you. His simple action and thoughtful words had made you excited in a way you’d never known. It had created a spark; a strong urge inside of you that was almost indescribable. And as you looked in his eyes, you wanted nothing more than to relive that feeling over and over again. You swore you’d never let him go.

Suddenly, you were looking at his face again, but this time much older.

“Darling, are you alright?” James asked, and you blinked quickly, your focus shifting present.

“Yes,” you said, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you realized just how deep into the memory you had been. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s quite alright, dear,” he said, studying you. “Are you sure you feel pleasant? You were quite far gone, I called your name several times. Did you rest well?”

“Yes, of course,” you said quickly, reaching out to clasp his hand tightly as you smiled reassuringly. “I promise. You just surprised me, is all.” James nodded, seeming fairly convinced, before smiling and gesturing towards the table.

“Alright darling, well why don’t you sit and eat something. A proper meal should do just the trick.” You smiled and nodded back at him, moving to sit in your chair that he pulled out for you. Once you were situated, James moved to sit across from you at the other end of the table.

“I wasn’t sure what you enjoyed most, so I instructed Miss Evers to make several morning dishes,” he said, grinning at you. “I hope it’s suiting for you.”

“Of course,” you said, placing a few items on your plate. A few minutes passed as you ate, your mind drifting back to last night’s events in the silence.

“Are you happy, my love?” James suddenly asked, snapping you out of your thoughts once again.

“Yes,” you replied quickly, smiling at him sincerely, “yes of course!” You could tell from the look of concern still on James’ face that he wasn’t convinced. You sighed, deciding to just be honest with him. “I just... it’s difficult to process how my life just changed.” You paused, watching James closely for a reaction. He stared, waiting for you to elaborate, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I’ve been alone for so long, living a horrible, unhappy life. I’m happy now, with you, but I can’t just turn that feeling off, that feeling that this moment is fleeting. It-- it terrifies me...” You trailed off, your mind wondering as you stared at the roses around you. The roses that James decided to decorate your breakfast with. The roses that had ultimately brought you together in the first place. The roses that James kept bringing around for you. Your roses. You turned your attention back to James, your eyes meeting his.

“These flowers, why did you pick them?” you asked him seriously. A look of confusion clouded James’ expression.

“Well,” James started, “I suppose they have some semblance to us, darling... these were the very flowers--”

“Of course, I remember...” you trailed off, thinking of what to say next. “But really, there has to be more to it...” It came out as more of a question than a statement. You just didn’t understand why he was bringing up all of these memories.

“Of course, dear,” James said, sighing. He looked you in the eyes, and you could see the sincerity there. “I knew you wouldn’t recover in a day, a week, a month, even a year...” he paused, his eyes downcast at the tablecloth. “I just hoped that by reminding you of what we can be once again will help you settle. My only wish is to make you happy...” he paused again, his eyes shifting back up to meet yours. This time you were met with certainty. “I want to take us back to that time. To that garden. To when we flourished the most even if the rest of the world was, well...”

“Hell. The rest of the world was hell,” you finished for him, your eyes teary at his sweet sentiment. James, however, faltered slightly at your words. You paused, taking note of the way he cringed at the mention of hell, before you reached to grab his hand, squeezing it tightly, lovingly. “Thank you James.” Your voice held so much emotion, and at that, James stood before walking over to you and pulling you out of your chair and into his embrace.

“Darling,” James whispered into your hair. You hummed in response, burying your face into his chest, breathing in his manly scent. You clasped onto him tightly. “Whatever may happen, I promise I will never let you slip from my grasp ever again... you shall never be afraid again. I would give everything away just for your happiness. You inform me and I will have it done for you, whatever you may need.” It was a firm promise, and you knew he meant it. James didn’t make empty promises. Your chest felt as if it might explode with love and adoration for this man. He really did want to give you the world. He really was your heaven... your God.

-♥-

After you had finished breakfast, James had insisted that he take you on a tour of the Cortez, and you weren’t going to turn him down. It was his pride and joy, and regardless, it was the most gorgeous place you had ever stepped foot into. You were nearly finished, with only two more floors to explore, when James started acting strange.

“James, what’s wrong?” you asked, placing your hand on his arm. He grimaced before looking at you nervously.

“Well, you see...” he trailed off for a moment, his voice hesitant. You began to get concerned. “These floors are still under slight renovation...” You giggled at his words.

“James,” you said sweetly, “it’s okay, I’m not afraid of a little dirt.”

“Well, no, that’s-”

“I’m serious,” you interrupted, giggling once again. The elevator dinged as you reached your destination. You smiled before taking his hand and leading him out. He sighed, still looking standoffish.

James had been telling the truth; there was a particular section of the hallway in which there was a wall being built, but it was small. You didn’t understand what he was so nervous about.

Suddenly, a loud shout rang out through the hallway, causing both you and James to flinch in surprise. There was a sound of commotion and James quickly walked towards the scene; you following closely behind him.

“What’s the issue?” James demanded someone standing at the back of the gathering crowd of men. There was a sound of someone groaning in pain. You stood at a distance away, more interested in the small white rose twirling between your fingers.

“One of the construction workers collapsed, sir,” the man informed him. At this point you’d lost interest, zoning in on the pretty rose in your hands. James barked a few orders at the men, but you weren’t really paying attention.

You looked up as James returned to you.

“I apologize for the interruption,” James said, obviously irritated.

“What’s the problem?” you asked, confused.

He paused, looking at you softly, “I thought that may have worried you.”

“Men get hurt all the time,” you said passively.

“Of course...” James trailed off, looking slightly confused, which made you confused. What did you do? Were you supposed to be worried? You brushed it off, smiling at him expectantly.

“Ready to continue with the tour?” you asked him, turning your back on him. You began walking back down the hall, glancing behind to see James following you. You rounded the corner, only to run into someone unexpectedly.

You stumbled backwards, nearly tripping. Luckily James stabled you before you hit the ground. You looked up, your eyes landing on a beautiful blonde woman. You paused, studying her, before a realization dawned upon you. You’d seen this woman before.

You remember her distinctly, for she was the person who had ultimately made you lose all hope. James’ wife, Elizabeth. You’d seen her all that time ago when you had first tried to escape your husband. She’s the woman that had made you believe James didn’t love you anymore.

When James had come back for you, you’d assumed that his relationship with her had failed. So why was she here?

“Why, hello,” the woman said, glancing between you and James, a weird grin on her face. She looked at James. “And who might this lovely lady be?”

You turned to look at James, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. James’ jaw was clenched as he stared at Elizabeth, and right there and then you knew he didn’t like her.

“It’s okay, James,” she purred, her smirk never leaving. “I’m not offended. We both knew it was never going to work.” She turned to you. “You must be Y/N. I’m Countess Elizabeth.” She offered a hand to you, and you took it gracefully. James was disturbingly quiet beside you. You decided to take the ropes.

“Yes, that’s correct,” you replied smoothly.

“What’s all the commotion down the hall?” Elizabeth asked curiously. You could tell that she had some kind of ulterior motive, otherwise she would have moved on.

“Nothing important,” you replied nonchalantly. It was the truth. You didn’t feel the need to be competitive with this woman anymore; you knew who James stood by, and you trusted him. You turned to him, intertwining your arms together. “James here was just giving me a tour. I hope you don’t mind?” You smiled politely at Elizabeth. She paused, her expression one of slight surprise. It seemed to be a strange look on her.

“Of course not,” she said through tight lips. “You two have fun.” You smiled at her kindly once more, before you and James continued on, arm in arm.

Once in private in the elevator, James turned to you.

“I have to say,” James said, smiling at you, “you handled that well. You do know that Elizabeth was... shall I say, challenging you?”

“I know,” you said, smiling at him reassuringly. “But that’s the thing: she was the one challenging me. Obviously she thought she had something to fight for. I know what’s mine.” James expression morphed into one of surprise, and then pride.

“Of course you do, dear,” he said, smiling down at you. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. The kiss was loving and at the same time slightly rough. You loved how James could make you feel like this; so powerful. After a heated moment, he pulled away.

“Darling, despite your present confidence in the matter,” he began, “I’d like you to know that regardless of Elizabeth and I’s history, she will never compare to your glamour. You truly are a revelation like no other.”

You smiled once more at his words, thinking back to that day in the garden once more, and to your mother’s words. The feeling you had now was a reflection of the feeling you had then. He’d always made you feel so incredibly self-assured. You felt like no matter what happened to you and James, nothing could break you at this point and time. And your mother had been right: gaining the knowledge was important.

Now that you’d ate the fruit of the garden and survived hell, what could possibly stop you?

You felt invincible, so long as he was by your side. You no longer feared the past or the future; you were completely centered present, all cycles broken. And it had took James less than a day to make you feel this way. Your excitement soared as you thought about your future with James. You knew that so long as you had him, you were unstoppable together. You were gods.

You didn’t need the garden, after all. Paradise lost stood no match to you, because with James, you could survive anything.

---

Series Masterlist: The Garden of Eden Series

Main Masterlist

[kassamigos]

welcome back to gallagher academy, KASSANDRA SUTTON! according to their records, they’re a FOURTH year, specializing in ADVANCED ENCRYPTION + “MACGUYVER” SURVIVAL SKILLS + NAVIGATION; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (bouncing copper hair, a million-watt smile, a sticker-covered macbook, and green eyes rolling at her own corny jokes). when it’s the (sagittarius)’s birthday on 12/05/1998, they always request ICE CREAM CAKE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

NAME: Kassandra Felicity Sutton

KNOWN AS: Kass

BIRTHDATE: December 5, 1998

ASTROLOGY:  Sagittarius sun / Cancer moon / Leo rising

HOMETOWN: Virginia Beach, VA

RESIDENCE: Roseville, VA  ( Gallagher Academy )

GENDER: Cis female ( she/her )

SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  Bisexual

HEIGHT: 5'5"

HAIR COLOR:  Brown

EYE COLOR: Green

TATTOOS: None

KNOWN LANGUAGES:  English, French, Spanish, Mandarin, German, Italian

IMMEDIATE FAMILY:

Laura Sutton: Mother, President of Gallagher Academy  ( Amy Adams FC )

Henry Edwards: Father, accountant & undercover spy, deceased  ( Chris Pine FC )

Valeria Sutton:  Younger sister, second year at Gallagher Academy ( Danielle Rose Russell FC )

background.

Kassandra Sutton was born the eldest of Laura Sutton and Henry Edwards. As a child, her favorite bedtime story had been hearing about how they had met, a chance run-in while both in Washington DC – her mother a legacy spy, and her father a simple accountant from England.  It had been a quick and steadfast love, and within a year of meeting they were married. Not long after the couple moved to Virginia Beach, where Kass and eventually her baby sister Valeria Sutton were born. Most spies keep their career a secret from their family, but Henry had been clued into the family from the start, and the two raised their daughters with the same privy information.  Knowing this had always made Kass feel like there were no secrets in their family, and that she could tell her parents everything, a trait that never seemed to leave her.

She was eight years old when her father was killed in a car crash, and it changed everything. Having done a lot of traveling throughout their early childhood, Laura now needed a job stable enough to raise her two daughters alone. So when her alma mater Gallagher Academy offers her the President position during one of the roughest times for the university, it’s hard to turn it down.  The Sutton family are given a small apartment in the mansion tucked away from where the students live, and the three of them slowly make it their home and new normal.

Despite permanently being under the same roof as their mother, Laura Sutton had come into the position with a lot of issues to fix, and she used this opportunity to dive into her work.  So Kass picked up the slack, packing lunches for her and Val and helping her sister with her homework every evening, trying to shoulder the weight for her mother as much as possible.  It caused her to grow up a little quicker than others, but she doesn’t hold any resentment towards her mother for it, because she knows Laura did all she could.  Besides, it made her bond with her sister closer than ever, and to this day Val will always be the most important person in her life. If there’s one place she knows like the back of her hand, it’s Gallagher Academy.

One of the hardest things she ever had to do was leave home ( or more specifically, her sister )   to go off to boarding school in Wyoming, practically halfway across the country.  But whereas she spent her childhood going to school with normal students and excelling leaps and bounds ahead of them, Kass enjoyed being able to be around like-minded individuals with families more similar to her own. It’s there that she grew into herself, developing her affinity for computers and figuring out who she was outside of Val’s older sister.  It’s also when she came out as bisexual, and had her first taste of a relationship with one of her best friends.

It was a strange transition to go from being just another student in prep school to the eldest daughter of President Laura Sutton when she arrived back at Gallagher, this time as a student.  Unlike in prep school, there were a lot of students who wanted to befriend her, and Kass had a hard time trying to decipher who wanted to be her friend because of her mother’s legacy, or for her. So she worked hard to make a reputation for herself, using her knowledge of Gallagher to make others feel more welcome and at home, while making an effort never to refer to her mother as President or bringing her job into the conversation.  Everyone already knows who she is;  they don’t need Kass to remind them.

gallagher academy, third year.

The merging of Gallagher Academy and Blackthorne Institute Kass’ third year had been an unprecedented one, but unlike other Gallagher students, she had no qualms with inviting boys to the school. It was nice to see some of her old prep school friends and family friends under the same roof as her.  Learning that Blackthorne had been a school for assassins was surprising, but she didn’t think ill of those who had gone there. After all, it’s not like she had been blind to the possibility of others ending up in that field.

Spring semester was rough for Kass;  her two best friends had started seeing two boys, leaving her to feel lonely and forgotten. It didn’t help that her feelings for one of her best friends had returned, and the pressure of others constantly coming to her for advice or their problems had begun to weigh on her. The Valentine’s Day dance turned three-day lockdown only made matters worse, especially after finding out one of the two students who had been murdered was Amelia Taylor, Kass’ ex-girlfriend.

Not like after having a falling out with one of her best friends, an anonymous email is sent around campus, outing students’ parents as previous members of the Brotherhood, an organization behind the death of Amelia and the witness protection student. Imagine her surprise when her father’s name – the normal, civilian accountant – had been on that list.  Unable to cope with the betrayal she feels, Kass pushes away her friends and family, and goes off on a rebellious streak, uncharacteristically getting drunk and having a few messy hookups.

It takes Val calling her out on her shit for her to come back to reality, and Kass finally confronts her mother.  It’s only then that Laura Sutton tells her the truth:  her father had been a Blackthorne alum and Brotherhood member before working as a double agent to help take down the organization, and it was his part in the operation that had gotten him killed. ( You can read the self-para on it here. )

After the news settled, Kass was able to repair the relationships she may have strained, and the imprisonment of Amelia’s killer and the Brotherhood being defeated had her feeling more like her old self.  She’s ready for her fourth and finally year at Gallagher in the fall, and to see what the future holds.

personality.

Kass is a total nerd, spending most of her time behind her laptop screen working on hacking jobs or researching whatever her current interest is.  Her IQ isn’t abnormally high and she doesn’t have a photographic memory, but she’s quick to be able to pick things up, especially anything binary related. She is also full of useless information that she’s garnered through her many, many nights lost on Wikipedia or Reddit at three in the morning.  She’s curious to a fault, often sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong – and being able to break through firewalls and access her mother’s records certainly doesn’t hurt.

Despite being a complete dork, she is extremely personable and has the ability to make friends with just about anyone. Those who welcome her into their life have a fiercely loyal friend on their side that will always drop everything at first call. Kass is optimistic and often quick to trust people, but isn’t as naive as she appears, especially after learning the truth about her father.

She’s also a total romantic, in love with the idea of love, and loves nothing more than to assist other people in their love lives. However, when it comes to her own love life, Kass is notorious for ignoring red flags and going for the first person.  Her relationship with Amelia ended in heartbreak after not being on the same page and thinking it was more than it was, so since then she’s learned to protect her heart a little better.

Just call her a golden retriever, because she will lick just about anyone’s face and be their best friend at first meeting.

more information / headcanons:

Kass is a pretty experienced traveler, used to flying from a young age when they would visit her dad’s family in England at least once a year.  Once Val went off to prep school and the three Suttons were separated more often than not, they would plan big summer trips during Laura’s time off, visiting places like Italy, France, and Hawaii. Venice is one of her favorite destinations  ( it just seemed SO romantic ) .

Her favorite place in the world is Washington DC. The fascination started at a young age when she would daydream about her parents meeting there, but since getting older she’s grown to love all the museums and monuments and make her own memories. Her plans post-grad are to move to DC and get a cyber security job at an agency.  

She still has her childhood bedroom in her mother’s apartment, that she does visit at least once a week, mostly because her ball python named Siri lives there. She tried having Siri in her dorm her first year at Gallagher, but one of her roommates wasn’t too keen on living with a snake, so now she keeps her at her mother’s.

One of her most prized possessions is her rock collection, a mixture of different minerals and rocks, as well as rocks and sand from places she’s traveled.

She’s really big into birthdays, and all her friends of hers receive a freshly baked birthday cake from her.  They’re not made from scratch – despite enjoying baking, Kass is particularly great at it – but it’s the thought that counts !

Kass has an appetite like Jughead Jones and a diet like a Gilmore girl.

An easy way to her heart is through flowers; sunflowers are her favorites.

TL;DR:  Kass is the eldest daughter of President Laura Sutton and has lived at Gallagher Academy since she was eight years old, so she knows the place like the back of her hand.  She basically raised her younger sister Val and is an extraverted computer nerd with a thirst for knowledge ( or more accurately, useless facts ) and an optimistic approach on life, though it’s not without hardship.

current & wanted connections here

[marsupials-of-mars]

Don't know it I've posted this before but it's one I found in my old phone, apparently written before svs

~~~

Deceit rubbed his scales. They were burning slightly, as they did when he was newly shed. He sneered. Shedding. It was disgusting. Strings of snakeskin clung in clumps to the walls of his stone room making it grosser than it was already. At least he wasn’t nearly blind in one eye anymore from the cloudy layer of dead cells. His scales were tender and any form of friction felt like rubbing on sunburn. He spread ointment over his face and hips, soothing the burn slightly. He hated his scales. More than anything. They caused him problem after problem, but overall they were disgusting. They were hard and cold to the touch, and made him look just like the monster he made himself out to be. There was a knock at the door.

“Dee? Dinnertime kiddo!” Deceit sighed. Patton was kind to him, but he knew it was only out of his nature. And pity. Fear or pity was the only way he got any sort of care. He hated dinner, especially considering he only ate once weekly and every other time he was sat awkwardly with the others, trying to disappear. But Patton wanted him to be included, and no matter how evil nobody would dare hurt Patton’s feelings. He shoved himself out of bed and pulled the bun out of his hair, ruffling it up and combing it back. He pulled on his shirt and jacket and opened the door.

Patton grinned and grabbed his hand. “I made steak and potatoes, your favorite!” Deceit sighed.

“I already ate Monday.” This was a lie, of course, but he didn’t feel like eating. He’d lost his appetite.

"Aw... can’t you eat a little more? I’m sorry, I should have remembered...” Patton cast down his big blue puppy dog eyes. Deceit sighed.

"Seared?” Patton smiled.

“Course! I know what you like!” Deceit paused.

“Fine. I’ll eat.”

"Yaaaay!” Patton sunk out, probably to set the table. Deceit took a breath and sunk as well, appearing in the dining room. Logan was already there, his elbows on the table, reading an advanced physics textbook. VERY interesting. Virgil was at his seat with his head in his arms. He peered up at Deceit.

"Why is HE here again?” Patton gave Virgil a Dad Look.

“He comes twice a week, we agreed on that. He needs to be social.” Deceit hissed to himself. There was the pity.

"Why can’t he eat with the other Darks?”

"I eat with them on Mondays.” He lied like a liar. “Besides, I could ask you the same.” Virgil growled.

"Hey, be nice you two!” Patton set Deceit’s meal in front of him and looked at each of them sternly. “Logan, no reading at the table.” Logan groaned and shut his book, grabbing a napkin to stuff it in as a bookmark. He dropped it next to him.

“Oh! Deceit! When did you get here?” "Three years ago. You’ve been wrapped in that book for too long. Come back to us Logan, the mind has been a mess.” Deceit sawed off a piece of meat.

“Ha ha.” Logan shoveled a bite of potato into his mouth. Roman burst in.

"Hello to those I like and those I hate, you know who you are!” Roman had figured out a way to insult the others without Patton being able to yell at him. He sat and dug in, and all the sides began to talk about daily activities Deceit hadn’t taken any part in. He ate quietly, feeling the others eyes boring into him once in a while, judging. He growled.

"Thanks for the dinner Patton. I really do feel appreciated.” He lifted his plate. “But I think I’ll take this elsewhere.” Patton looked up from his food.

“What? No! Are the others being too mean? Stop being mean you guys!” He grabbed Deceits arm. Deceit yanked it away.

"Thanks. But no thanks.” He stalked away. He could hear Patton’s stern mumbling behind him and took solace in the idea of the others being scolded. But being pitied and protected only made him feel weaker. He made his way through the kitchen, headed to his room.

"Hey! Snake Boy!” He looked up. Two sides he’d never met we’re sat at a small table in the kitchen. He’d always wondered what that table was for. He raised a brow. He couldn’t for the life of him tell what type of side they were supposed to be. And why weren’t they at the dining room table?

"What?” He decided to indulge the side with the sunglasses which made oh so much sense to be wearing indoors at night.

"You’re the new one huh? What’s with the scales?” He swirled his coffee cup. “Remy, be nice.” The second spoke up. He straightened his bubblegum pink tie. “You’re Deceit, aren’t you?” Deceit blinked.

“Um... no...” The cardigan-clad side beamed.

“I KNEW it! Where you going?”

"Away. My room.” Deceit contemplated making a run for it.

"Um, no, you’re sitting with us!” He patted the chair next to him excitedly. Deceit raised a brow.

“Let it go Em, he doesn’t want to have to deal with you.” The side who he assumed was called Em huffed.

“Don’t be rude, I was offering, if he doesn’t want to-“

"Sure.” Deceit sat down. It felt odd sitting with people he didn’t know, but he was intrigued. And he had to prove that Remy didn’t already know him. Em squealed happily. "Fun!” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Emile, Emile Picani, and this is Remington!” "Remy, Em, it’s REMY.” Deceit chuckled.

“Deceit. Though you seem to know who I am already...?”

"Well duh, you’re the new dark side, you were in the last two episodes!” "Episodes...?” Deceit blinked. This Emile Picani must be insane.

"Don’t worry about it, I just want to get to know you!” Deceits heart skipped. Get to know him? But he had some questions first.

"Wait, first, who are you two? I’ve never seen you, are you Sides?”

"Oh, heavens no!” Emile giggled. “He’s sleep, and I’m an OC!”

"An OC...?”

"Yeah, were expecting more non-side extras at some point but for now it’s just us. At least, we’re the most accepted by the fandom.”

"What the ever loving f*ck are you talking about?”

"Oh!” Emile gasped. “You can censor yourself, that’s so neat!” He ignored the question.

“Sometimes in media a sharp beep can be more effective in conveying a swear than the swear itself, while still being deemed more appropriate.”

"Uh huh...” Deceit was lost. But he didn’t quite mind. The guy was charming, in a confusing sort of way.

“Why don’t you eat at the dining room table?”

"Well that’s for the sides.” Emile shrugged. Remy nodded. Deceit furrowed his brows.

"Do they not let you sit with them?”

"Oh, no no no, they’re perfectly kind to us. But usually they talk about Thomas’ problems, their jobs, things we really have no part in or fascination with.” Deceit nodded. “Now your turn to talk. What’s your story...?” Deceit picked at his fingernails.

“My story?”

"What’s your character? Your internal conflict? Why should I like Deceit Sanders? What does he add to the show? What are his quirks?” Deceit looked between the two not-sides. They stared at him in anticipation.

“Well... I’m the bad guy. I lie. I show up and ruin things.” Emile chuckled. "What’s so funny?!” Deceit glared at him.

"Oh, sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because you remind me of another certain dark side I used to talk with quite a lot.”

"...Virgil?” His heart sank. “You talked with Virgil?”

"Well someone likes killing the suspense.” Emile smiled. “Yeah, I talked with everyone’s favorite worry wart. He said a lot of the same things.”

"Really?”

"Um, have you even WATCHED Accepting Anxiety?”

"I have literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay... way to be honest.” Emile smiled. “But like Virgil, I’m gonna have to ask you to go a little deeper. Don’t tell me what you are to everyone else, tell me how YOU feel. YOUR story.” Deceit bit his lip. “There’s not much to tell...”

“I don’t mind.” Emile’s warm periwinkle eyes egged him on. His heart swelled in his chest. Nobody had ever shown such a deep interest in him. He sighed.

"Maybe... maybe I feel a little... gross. Sometimes. And being born a ‘dark side’...with this monster face... it feels easier to act how other people expect me to rather than trying to be anything else.” He looked up. Emile was staring, and Remy had stopped eating. He could see the edges of hot pink irises side eying him from behind his sunglasses. An awkward tension hung in the air.

“Kidding!” Deceit grinned far too wide. “I’m Deceit for f*cks sake, I’m a dark side, a villain made to be feared, not pitied! And I LOVE IT!” Emile’s expression didn’t change.

“Deceit. Calm down. I’m a therapist, I can tell when you’re lying.” Deceit’s grin faltered and faded. He sunk into his chair and put his head in his arms.

“I’m not ly-ying...” his voice hitched. He wasn’t about to cry in front of two people he just met.

“It’s okay. Talk it out. Breathe.” He felt Emile put a reassuring hand on his back. “This is common in a character arc. Denial followed by an explosion followed by an acceptance. It’s how these things go.”

"I’m not a character in one of your stupid shows...” Deceit shrugged Emile off him. “I’m a freak and I’ll always be a freak.”

“A common cliche.”

"I’m NOT CLICHE!!!” Deceit shot up and banged his fists on the table. Emile caught his arm.

"Remy, can you give us a moment?” Remy tossed his hair to the side.

“Go nuts girl, I’m done anyways.” He set his plate on the counter and sank out. Deceit watched him. They were alone.

“I know you’re not cliche. But this arc of a villain has common components. And always, ALWAYS, it works out in the end. Beauty and the Beast, Nick from Zootopia, I’ll leave it at that to spare you from a long long list.” Deceit huffed.

“This isn’t a cutesy animated Disney film.” "Sure it’s not. But it applies to your situation. And I think, despite what you say, you’ll turn out fine. Just use a little elbow grease. Break through the expectations of others and show them who you really are, be who you wanna be.” “It’s not that easy...” Deceit rubbed his scales. Picani took his chin and turned his head so they were looking into each other’s eyes.

"I know. Not much in life is. I’m not throwing some empty phrases at you like ‘be yourself’, ‘follow your dreams’, ‘believe in yourself’, now THOSE are cliche. I’m saying you have the ability to be who you feel is the real you. All you need to do is show it. It’ll be hard. I know it will. But keep at it and it can and will be okay.” Deceit blushed and looked away. “Everyone already hates me. How do I take that back...?”

"Apologize, show them you’re a good guy.”

"I don’t look or feel like a good guy... my scales-“ He freezes when Picani gently runs a finger down his scaled cheek.

“I like your scales. They’re fascinating. They’re pretty but they make you look badass, don’t worry about them, they’re great.” Deceit flushed bright yellow.

“I-i... really?”

"Really really! Everyone loves the villain, and a reformed villain retaining their quirks can be even more fun! But remember: Nobody likes a flat character. Show your colors, your conflict, drop the textbook villain act and don’t be afraid to get messy to show people the real you. Understand?” Deceit smiled slightly.

"I think I might.”

[destieldrabblesdaily]

hello there (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I'm pretty new to destiel and just found your blog because I wanted to look into some fanfics and someone recommended & turns that you have like a billion one shots for destiel! love your writing style but, I'm not sure where to start in your drabbles tag because it's soooo much (ﾟдﾟ) can u maybe point me to some popular ones or some that you preferred writing or something like that to get me started? thank you anyway (ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿

Hey friend! 

Ahh, I totally get you. :p A billion is a bit ambitious, but with like 400 stories in one tag and no way to sort, it might get tricky. *sweats nervously for not having a better tagging system*

But anyway, you rock for finding my blog and liking my style, so here is a little something to help you out! For starters, a lot of my stories are also on AO3, which is still a realm of chaos, but is a hell of a lot easier to navigate than my tumblr tag. 

Anyway, here is a little map to get you started, sorted by my most popular Destiel fics (according to AO3), and ones I personally just loved writing!

—

Canon!Verse fics, most popular:

1) CursedTeam Free Will is hunting a witch, but before she dies she turns Cas into a kitten. They can’t find a cure, and after two weeks everyone is losing hope. One night when Cas is sleeping on Dean’s chest, the curse fades and he turns into himself again. As Dean’s luck would have it, Sam walks into the living room seeing Dean sprawled out on the couch with a very naked Castiel on top of him.

2) JealousyWhen Dean, Sam and Castiel are having a drink at a bar after a hunt, Dean finds Cas flirting with a guy, and suddenly realizes something about his own feelings for the angel… 

3) Dream A Little DreamCastiel goes after a Djinn but gets captured, and of course his dream world is all about Dean and him being happy together, so he’s very disappointed when Dean and Sam save him and he wakes up… 

4) With A Little Help From My FriendDean is really nervous about finally telling Castiel how he feels, so he practices over Skype with Charlie. Naturally, Cas chooses that exact moment to drop by, and ends up hearing the whole thing…

5) WhiteboardFor a while now, there has been a whiteboard in Dean’s room. When failing to say the words out loud, there’s always the option to write them down. So that’s exactly what Castiel suggests, and Dean humors him, the two of them finding new ways to understand and forgive each other by working through some issues from both the present and the past.

—

Soulmate AU’s, most popular:

1) What Can’t Be SeenSoulmate AU where you first see color after eye contact: Cas is a famous best selling author and he’s promoting his book, so he’s talking to a crowd of people and suddenly his world is in color, and a lot of his fans pretend to be his soulmate. A Cinderella type situation ensues.

2) The PendantAU where instead of a tattoo/name everyone’s born with a pendant/charm necklace that matches their soulmate’s. Dean walks into their bathroom thinking it’s empty, but there’s Cas taking off his shirt to take a shower and Dean sees his necklace (that matches Dean’s, obviously) and freaks out (because Dean is totally 100% NOT gay at all). Bonus if Cas already knows.

3) Daffodils & Forget-Me-NotsSoulmate AU where when you write something on your skin with pen/marker/whatever the hell you want, it will show up on your soulmate’s skin as well.

—

High School AU’s, most popular:

1) No HomoFor the prompt: ‘I wasn’t gay, but then I kissed you in front of some homophobes to piss them off, and turns out I might be kinda gay for you after all’. In which a kiss makes Dean realize that he has feelings for his best friend.

2) This Game We PlayDean and Castiel have been best friends since they were little, and sleepovers are a common event. They’ve always loved playing the game where they draw out letters on each others backs and try to guess what the other is writing. Even though sixteen seems to be a bit too old to still play the game, Castiel uses it as a chance to silently confess something that he’s been wanting to share with Dean for a long time.

3) Camping and CuddlesDean and Castiel have been best friends since forever, and they decide to go on a camping trip to celebrate graduating high school. When it starts raining and Cas’ tent turns out to have a huge hole in it, the boys are forced to share Dean’s tent, and things heat up.

4) The CallCastiel accidentally butt dials his best friend Dean, and Dean overhears a conversation that wasn’t meant for his ears. Or: the one in which Dean finds out that his best friend has feelings for him.

5) Practice Makes Perfect‘It’s not gay if it’s practice, but shit that was actually really nice wanna practice some more?’ Or, the one in which Dean offers to help his best friend Cas improve his kissing skills, until it’s no longer just ‘practice’. 

(If you are particularly into High School AU’s, I also made a complete list of al my HS AU’s that you can find here –> Click!

—

College/Roommate AU’s, most popular:

1) What It MeansDean’s roommate and best friend Castiel always says ‘I love you’ to him every night before they go to sleep. Seeing as Dean has some serious feelings for his friend, he can’t take the confusion any longer and one night asks Cas what it means when he says ‘I love you’. 

2) If At First You Don’t SucceedFor the prompt: “Wait, did you just flirt with me?“ “Have been for the past year, but thanks for noticing.

”Dean has a huge crush on his friend Castiel, with whom he also shares an apartment. When he decides that he finally wants to woo Cas, everything that could possibly go wrong, does indeed go wrong.

3) UnbrokenDean’s best friend and roommate Castiel is asexual, and it’s causing Cas a lot of trouble when it comes to dating. Cas feels broken, but Dean deeply disagrees; he’d be with Cas in a heartbeat, if only Cas would see him as more than a friend… 

4) Safe And SoundFor the prompt: ‘College!AU where Dean and Cas are roommates and one of them is afraid of thunder, so naturally they have to huddle/cuddle together until the storm is over.’

5) Hot & ColdDean and his best friend Castiel get stuck in the middle of nowhere when the Impala’s engine gives up on them. A snowstorm is raging, and it seems that the only way to keep warm is a method that sounds a lot like ‘naked cuddling’. Not that Dean is complaining.

—

Blind/Deaf AU’s, most popular:

1) Through Your EyesDean’s best friend Castiel is blind, which is why Cas loves it whenever Dean describes the things as he sees them. When Castiel gets curious and wants more details about Dean’s looks, Dean is reluctant to go into detail about them. Castiel’s solution is simple, and demands nothing more than a gentle touch.

2) At First SightDean has been blind since he was four years old, but at 18 years old he regains his sight through special surgery. This also means that he will finally be able to actually see his boyfriend Castiel for the first time. Castiel is excited, but at the same time utterly terrified that Dean won’t approve of his looks…

3) MisunderstandingsWhen the handsome new student Castiel Novak arrives at Lawrence High, Dean has every intention of making him feel welcome. However, Castiel seems to ignore Dean whenever Dean tries to talk to him…

4) DeliciousImagine your OTP, based on this text post: ‘Okay, so I’m a waitress at this restaurant that’s open really late and it’s nearly 1am and this family comes in and I’m so tired that I handed their BLIND SON a menu and he’s like “ah… thank you… I’ll just… read this” in a serious voice and I fucking snorted.'With blind!Dean and waiter!Cas.

—

Personal favorites to write:

1) Her Favorite Love StoryThe story of Dean and Castiel as seen through Mary Winchester’s eyes; AKA how she witnesses her oldest son fall in love with his best friend. 

2) The MatchmakerBased on this prompt: “My cat keeps breaking into your apartment next to mine, so I tied a note to its collar to apologize, and you write back. We keep exchanging cat notes, and you turn out to be pretty cute.” 

3) WingsWhen ten year old Dean Winchester and his family move to a new town, he becomes best friends with the boy next door, who happens to be an actual angel. Dean is fascinated with Castiel’s wings from the start, however when they get older, Cas suddenly starts hiding them and no longer wants Dean to groom them for him.

4) BlackboardsFor the prompt: 'Dean and Cas are both high school teachers, and they leave each other cute notes on each others’ black boards.’

5) To Date a DickCas is out on a date with a complete and utter asshole in a really nice restaurant, and Dean is their waiter who feels the need to intervene.

6) Angel Grace (2 Parts)Dean Winchester loves going to conventions to meet the cast of his favorite TV show 'Angel Grace’. Aside from being good at his job, lead actor Castiel Novak is charming, handsome, and has a heart of gold. Like many fans, Dean has a serious crush on the guy. However after meeting Castiel several times, it’s starting to look like Dean’s crush isn’t as one sided as Dean had always assumed it was.

—

Holiday Specials:

❄ Destiel Drabbles: December/Christmas Edition Fluffy Christmas-themed Destiel stories to warm the cockles of your heart during the cold December days! 

❄ All I Want For ChristmasDuring a big family get together, a drunk Castiel starts singing ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ to his best friend Dean while the whole family watches.

🕷Destiel Drabbles: Halloween EditionSome fluffy Halloween themed Destiel drabbles. Happy Halloween!

🕷Kiss Or TreatCastiel has been dutifully handing out Halloween candy all night, entertaining the many kids ringing the Novak house’s doorbell, but he’s in for a big surprise when the bell rings once more and it’s his crush Dean Winchester suddenly standing there on his front porch…

🕷Of Holding Hands and Haunted HousesFor the prompt: 'You’re scared of haunted houses and Halloween attractions, and I don’t even know you but your friends left you behind (what dicks) so I’m gonna hold your hand and get you through this, alright?’

♥Valentine’s DayFor the prompt: 'Cas anonymously sending Dean one of those school Valentine’s Day flowers with a little personalized note, thinking that someone as popular as Dean won’t notice his message anyway because he gets so many. Little does he know that Dean sent one to him as well…’

—

If you feel like reading a multi-chapter Destiel fic, I wrote one of those as well: 

Fortune CookiesDean and his best friend Jo own a bakery together. When a salesman named Crowley visits Dean to make a deal, Dean has no idea of the consequences, and his world turns upside down when an actual angel literally crashes into his life. For the first time in his thirty-year-existence, Dean is overwhelmed by real companionship, wings, and most of all… love.

—

Or for easily reading and clicking through short fluffy (mostly canon!verse) Destiel stories, go here:

~ 100 Days of Destiel Drabbles ~

Or here: 

~ 30 Days of Destiel Drabbles ~

—

Hope this was helpful, and happy reading! :D (I really need to become a better tagger, ahum. :p)

[tiffersthenerdyficrecs]

BakuDeku Lemon Fics

(*) Indicates my most suggested read.

Blinding Brilliance by SecretKiwi

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Pre-Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Dry Humping, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Awkward First Times, Praise Kink, top!Midoriya, bottom!Bakugou, Post kacchan vs deku Summary: The fact that Katsuki could even think Izuku looked down on him was mind-blowing. Baffling. He’s only ever looked to Katsuki with stars in his eyes; with a wide-eyed fascination that could only be rivaled by All Might himself. “Y-you thought of me that way…?” Izuku’s voice is soft, unsure, and honestly? Hurt. He couldn’t see how his constant commendation and devotion could ever be seen as something negative. _ Deku and Kacchan work out their feelings towards each other, and Izuku proves to him that his admiration was always sincere.

Orange Lace by Devasta

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou KatsukiMidoriya Izuku Additional Tags: Daddy Kink, Lingerie, Fluff and Smut, Established Relationship, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Bottom Midoriya Izuku, Top Bakugou Katsuki, Anal Plug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Praise Kink Summary: He'd pressed it in with wet noises and his lips brushing Izuku's ear, promising a good, hard fuck if his kitten kept it in the entire time. Katsuki definitely isn't a liar.

Sucker Punch by guess ill die (richkid_asshole)

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Jirou Kyouka, Yaoyorozu Momo, Iida Tenya, Uraraka Ochako Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Porn With Plot, Finger Sucking, Rough Oral Sex, Oral Fixation, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, katsuki's in a band, izuku is bad at being spontanious, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Dirty Talk, writing these tags is more embarrassing than writing the fic itself wow, spot the life is strange reference lol, momo and kyouka are together but they're barely there so im not gonna tag their ship Summary: Izuku never did anything without a plan, without forethought, without looking into every possible outcome and weighing the pros and cons of each. But something about Katsuki made him want to be impulsive.

To Break Down His Walls by Alistairz

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters:Bakugou Katsuki,Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: bakudeku, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Senior year, blowjob, handjob, makeout, Anal Sex, Anal, Rimming, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Accidental Stimulation, Romance, Overstimulation, Aftercare, Oneshot, Piercings Summary: A warm and breezy night as spring fades into summer, Bakugou Katsuki and Izuku Midoriya spend their evening together laughing away their worries playing their favorite childhood video games. (Innocent enough, right?) But things take an unexpected turn when a daydreaming Izuku reaches for a bottle of soda, and their lives are forever changed.

Give Me Strength by CounterKnight291543

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: Smut, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Praise Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Bakugo likes to feel superior, Midoriya just wants to make him feel good, References to Canon, But UA is more of a university, Aged-Up Character(s), i'm sorry for this sin Summary: Seeing how much Midoriya has grown is making Bakugo feel weak. Thankfully, his childhood friend is on hand to change that.

Be Good by Whinyskeleton

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: BDSM, Edgeplay, Vibrators, Dom!Izuku, Light Bondage, Tears, good ones though, Finger Sucking, Praise Kink, Lingerie, whats the tag for being stepped on, basically katsuki gets wrecked, OOC Summary: Katsuki was naked except for the leather collar on his neck and the ropes on his arms, binding them behind his back. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, Izuku between his legs, rubbing his hands up and down Katsuki's thighs reassuringly. His hands were warm, strong, confident. He slowly grabbed a bottle of oil off the bed and began rubbing it over Katsuki's chest while whispering into his ear. "Are you going to be good for me today?"

Soft Spots by Saysi(Lots of chapters)

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Character: Class 1-A (My Hero Academia) Additional Tags: Blowjobs, handjobs, lots of porn, Lots of plot, Making Out, Masturbation, Anal, D/s undertones, Long, Canon Universe, Possessive Bakugou Katsuki, Because some people misunderstood this is NOT set in first year Summary: Midoriya and Bakugou don't have the best of relationships - except when they find themselves alone. Bakugou quickly finds himself developing a soft spot for the nerd.

Stopping All Stations by glamour_weeb

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: Consensual Non-Consent, Exhibitionism, Rape Fantasy, Public Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Established Relationship, Crossdressing, Rape Roleplay, Anal Sex Summary: Izuku begs Katsuki to roleplay as a pervert that feels him up on the train. Katsuki only agrees if Izuku wears a slutty school girl uniform. They both get a little bit too into it.

Shelter in the Storm by baku_bean

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: Aged-Up Character(s), Established Relationship, Characters Are Pro Heroes (My Hero Academia), Snowed In, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Riding Summary: After his first plans for Katsuki's birthday fall through, Izuku surprised him with something else. When THAT goes awry and he tries to blame himself, Katsuki reminds him of what was really important from the start.

Body Talk by erza_mikazuki

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Ashido Mina, Uraraka Ochako, Todoroki Shouto Additional Tags: Clubbing, night club, Strangers to Lovers, Love at First Sight, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Top Bakugou Katsuki, Bottom Midoriya Izuku, Love Hotels, First Meetings, Sexual Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, Flirting, Porn With Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot Summary: Izuku Midoriya loves letting lose on the weekends. Dancing the night away at the night clubs with friends and drinking. Izuku is a tactile person. He gets high off of attraction & flirtations acted out via body language. That raw desire for close physicality; no words exchanged. Letting the body handling unspoken words. It was just another night out with friends; until he locks eyes with crimson red eyes that seem to want to eat him whole. The attraction between them is instantaneous; drawn to one another like magnets. Izuku just wants to dance with him.

Sweet Nothings by LoveOn_970

Rating: Mature Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s), Light BDSM, Fluff and Smut, Marriage, Body Worship, Anal Sex, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Top Midoriya Izuku, Power Bottom Bakugou Katsuki Summary: Katsuki would never admit it aloud. He thought his husband was strong, of course. Being Number One does that to a man. But... he would do anything for Deku. Anything.

Safe Haven Massage by SurelyHeavenWaits *

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Massage Therapist Midoriya Izuku, Massage, Aged-Up Character(s), Smut Summary: Kirishima and Kaminari have been badgering Katsuki for weeks to accept this gift certificate to their favorite massage parlor until Katsuki finally and grudgingly accepts, despite his suspicions. Which is how he finds himself here, naked as the day he was born and getting rubbed down by a man with the voice of an angel.

You Wonderful Motherfuckers by BeyondPhantomhive

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Sero Hanta, Kaminari Denki, Ashido Mina, Kirishima Eijirou Additional Tags: Pranks and Practical Jokes, Fluff and Crack, Smut, Dirty Thoughts, Dirty Talk, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Getting Together, POV Alternating, Gift Fic, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping Summary:In which the Bakusquad unwittingly get Bakugou and Midoriya together through a series of pranks.

Party Wall by TheBadIdeaBears

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto Additional Tags: Meet-Cute Neighbors, Masturbation, Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia), Mutual Masturbation, through a wall, it's a weird arrangement, like Pyramus and Thisbe but with masturbation, there's a reference no one will get, Misunderstandings, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wall Sex Summary: Izuku moves to a new building and half of his stuff is missing. Thankfully he has a hot new neighbour he can ask for help.

TGIF by Tokiji(Part 1 of the Tickets Straight to Hell series)

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Dabi (My Hero Academia), Kirishima Eijirou, Ashido Mina, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Todoroki Shouto Additional Tags: mentions of tododeku, mentions of todobaku, College AU, Party, Aged-Up Characters, No quirks Au, Drinking, Penetrative Sex, Rough Sex, Lord help these dorks, Mentions of Kirimina, Mentions of Kamijirou, Dirty Talk, Sex Jokes Summary: “If tonight was a one-time thing, I get it. But, I dunno, you look decent enough to hang out with, so.” “How flattering.” The arms around him tightened ever so slightly. “I don't… Um.” Deku leaned back until they sunk into the couch together, like a small escape from the world spinning around them, and whispered against his lips, “I really, really don't want this to be a one-night stand.” Katsuki hummed and bumped their noses together. “Do you think we have a chance?” “At this?” Katsuki waved a hand at the non-existent space between them. “I… honestly don't know.”

A Million Answers by Tokiji(Part 2 of the Tickets Straight to Hell series)

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, Side Kirishima Eijirou/Ashido Mina Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijirou, Ashido Mina, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Todoroki Shouto, Uraraka Ochako, Iida Tenya, Shindou You, Jirou Kyouka Additional Tags: No quirks Au, College AU, Fluff, heavy smut, Angst, Why do all of my fics have angst, Semi-Public Sex, Established Relationship, see you all in hell Summary: “Oh?” Katsuki grinned, a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment. “And how the fuck do I look at you, Deku?” “Like I’m the dumbest, shittiest, dorkiest nerd on the planet.” Deku laughed. “And like I’m… Like I’m worth the world.” “And a shirt.” “Yes. The world and a shirt.”

Go Hard by hottamale

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: Aged Up, 17/18 - Freeform, technically underage i guess, Sneaking Out, Anal Sex, 69, Power Bottom Midoriya Izuku, late night adventures, Car Sex, Blow Job, eating ass Summary: They always say being a teenager is the time to make stupid decisions, but no one talks about the laughs and good times that go hand in hand with them. With the cool metal of his dad's car keys resting heavy in his hand, Katsuki is more focused on that dumb, bright smile and shitty green hair than the possible consequences of their actions.

rabid. by SageMasterofSass

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kaminari Denki, Kirishima Eijirou, Ashido Mina, Sero Hanta Additional Tags: Smut, this is rly just porn yall theres a plot but it ain't much lmao, Werewolf!Katsuki, Knotting, Biting, Drooling, Xenophilia, as in Katsuki is shifted but aint an actual wolf, Cum Inflation, Rough Sex, Anal Sex, as always in my fics izuku has a size kink, and also as per usual katsuki has a filthy mouth, Dirty Talk, Size Kink, Possessive Behavior, Breeding Kink, knotting dildo, it doesn't get used tho, why use a toy when u can have a real dick? :) Summary: “Does this mean someone wants to fuck Bakugou?” Kaminari asks curiously. “I think it’s the other way around,” Mina says with a grin, and throws Katsuki a wink when he glares at her. “Obviously someone wants his giant werewolf co-” “Hey!” Katsuki snaps, cutting her off. “Knock it off, I’m not fucking anyone!” Famous last words.

Online: Grind Zero by chocolatechipplague *

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto, Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki, Endeavor (mentioned) Additional Tags: Camboy Bakugou, Makeup Guru Bakugou, Prohero Deku, Makeup Sex Test, lipstick stains, Blowjobs, Rimming, Sex, Anal Sex, Cum Eating, Messy, Endeavor_Sucks, BOTTOM BAKUGOu, top midoriya, Aged Up, NSFW, Sex Toys, Cock Ring, Plugs, hint of fluff, Grind Zero, Quirkless Bakugou Katsuki Summary: "Listen, you want your eyeliner sharp enough to fucking kill a man and there's no fucking point going out if your highlight ain't poppin’," Grind Zero commented as he brushed powder across his cheekbones, adding a soft shimmer to his face. He looked into the mirror and pushed his lips into a pout, just to see how it would look before dragging his brush through the powder again, a little more to the top of his cheekbones for the dramatics. He reached for his eyeliner pencil and pointed it to the camera. He pushed his lips into a pout just for the effect before lining the dramatic wings he wanted to create on his eyes over top the smoky eyeshadow he had finished a few minutes prior. "If you're not thinking about murder as you strut in the club, just go the fuck home, Becky. You're embarrassing yourself." Katsuki bakugou is Japan's most loved camboy, taking a focus on makeup and testing its durability with help from his boyfriend prohero Deku, not that Grind Zero's fans would know that little detail.

Caught Up by Mikacrispy *(2nd in the 'Get On My Level' series. Can be read as a standalone. I do suggest reading both because quality.)

Rating: Explicit Categories: F/M, M/M Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, Ashido Mina/Kirishima Eijirou, Jirou Kyouka/Kaminari Denki Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Class 1-A (My Hero Academia) Additional Tags: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, not slow burn, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Sassy Midoriya Izuku, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki Can't Catch a Break, Smut, Bakusquad (My Hero Academia), Pro Hero Midoriya Izuku, Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki, Characters Are Pro Heroes (My Hero Academia) Summary: Midoriya Izuku returns home after living three years away from the country to become the best hero he can... But it is not just his fighting style that improved, the young man now is handsome, assertive and very straightforward. Bakugou Katsuki was not ready for it. (This work is sequel to my other fic Get On My Level, but it can be read on its own.)

Stupid Twink Finds Another Way to Pay Horny Mechanic by decadentbynature

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: Some Kind of AU idk, Extremely Dubious Consent, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Public Blow Jobs, mechanic Bakugo Katsuki, Dirty Talk, Short One Shot, Drabble, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Kissing, Rough Oral Sex Summary: Izuku gets a flat tire and being unprepared for such an event, is forced to call for a tow truck. One arrives, being driven by an aggressive, loudmouthed mechanic who introduces himself as Bakugo. Everything is going smoothly...up until Bakugo asks for payment and Izuku realizes that he doesn't have his wallet. That's alright, though, Bakugo has another way for him to pay.

Addiction by MiraChaDoodles

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijirou, Uraraka Ochako, Kaminari Denki Additional Tags: Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki, Porn Star Midoriya Izuku, Denial of Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Shameless Smut, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Eventual Happy Ending Summary: An abundance of freckles smatters his sun-tanned cheeks, and dark green waves curl around his face. But Katsuki gets hung up at his eyes. They’re huge and green, innocent and filled with tears, just li— Wait. Holy shit. Is that... Deku? --- Or... the first time that Katsuki gets off to a porno, Deku turns out to be the star.

Side by Side by Mikacrispy

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: One Shot Collection, Original Character(s), Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Age Difference, Established Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s), Characters Are Pro Heroes (My Hero Academia) Summary: Series of oneshots where we see moments of the lives of Katsuki and Izuku now that they are side by side.

Sequel to Caught Up.

Secret Touch by OneDayShipping *(Updating/Incomplete)

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Underage Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: hinted non-con, mentions of wet dreams, language because bakugou, Masturbation, my own breed of crack psychiatry, loads of assumptions and BS on my part, Minor Original Character(s), some other characters from the series are scattered throughout, Hand Jobs, Coming In Pants, blowing loads on shirts Summary: Quirk Discovery AU. Quirks manifest up until the age of four. After no quirk seemed to manifest within him, Midoriya went about his frantic studies of heroes, meeting All Might, receiving One For All and attending UA. However, this seemingly quirkless teen is about to discover that he had a quirk after all.

oak tree by crunchrapsupreme *(Author says they intend to finish this fic this year.)

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Ashido Mina, Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki Additional Tags: Bottom Bakugou Katsuki, Top Midoriya Izuku, Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Choking, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, college party, midoriya has big hands and bakugou has a tiny waist, Light Dom/sub, Light Bondage, Recreational Drug Use, Riding Summary: Bakugou's words die in his throat as he glances into the archway of the living room to see a small crowd of people surrounding a guy with unruly green hair. His back is towards him, so Bakugou can’t see his face, but Bakugou's eyes widen as he sees the dude actually lift a girl up in the air over his head, then back down, and then up again - and it’s then Bakugou realizes the dude is legit bench pressing a fucking person. "Yeah, I'm gonna ride that," Bakugou says.

The Benefits Between Us by dat_heichou *(Updating/Incomplete)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Class 1-A (My Hero Academia), Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou Masaru, Midoriya Inko, Midoriya Hisashi, Yagi Toshinori | All Might Additional Tags: Future Fic, proheroes au, Aged-Up Character(s), they're 24/25 in this, Friends With Benefits, Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, hurt/comfort elements, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Emotional Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, side ships include iichako kirikami miritama, references manga spoilers in the plot, Alcohol Summary: It was never meant to be a serious suggestion. But of course, Deku has always been someone to rise up to Katsuki’s challenges. It’s both his best and worst feature, after all. In which the Wonder Duo agrees to release the stress of being pro-heroes together and discover that sometimes being friends-with-benefits can mean being better friends.

Crybaby by lalazee(Updating/Incomplete)

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Additional Tags: Phone Sex, Dirty Talk, Smut, Secret Identity, Identity Reveal, Power Play, Romance, Comedy, Romantic Comedy, Drama, Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Different High School, Shiketsu High School Students, Phone Sex Operator Bakugou, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Stitches, Semi-Public Sex, Character Study Summary: That awkward moment when you have phone sex with your childhood best friend and neither of you realize who is on the other end. A love story.

[petitprincess1]

My Heroic AU (Warning: Long Post)

So, I don’t know why, but I have this dying need to explain my Heroic AU, especially since I got newer followers. I just want explain more about this to even those that have read my fics, but are more curious about it.

Central/Main Idea: Mine are more on the chaotic good side of things than lawful because I find it more fun and they kind of explore the whole “if villains can kill and destroy and people just accept it, why can’t a hero do the same, especially when justified and with a corrupt justice system?” Basically, whenever a hero does anything like kill or destroy, no matter the reason, they are automatically seen as corrupt or they have a dying need to be stopped, even more so than villains. My Heroic characters basically exist to prove such a thought wrong…even if they aren’t the most mentally balanced people.

Also, the images I’m using were created by @themcnobody when they did a commission for me and I posted it up, so I don’t think this counts as reposting, but I’ll remove them if they don’t want me using them.

The Crew:

Clemencia/Felicity Clement Age: 19-20 Height: 5 foot 3 Job: Assassin/Hitman for Hire Background: Clem was born powerless in a family full of superheroes both on her father’s and mother’s side. Around the time when she was born, White Hat made her family move to a more crime filled neighborhood to lower the crime rate. Unfortunately, due to them being stuck in a bad neighborhood and not having powers, Clem was stuck sheltered for over 19 years. 

However, that changed when she left out on her birthday without her family knowing…and she instantly got followed and almost attacked from a drunkard. Luckily and unluckily, Clem was “saved” by Demencia, who was following the drunkard because they were in debt with the BHO. Dem was going to attack Clem for fun, but she instantly got out of her murderous mood when the girl just expressed her gratitude and she just left her. 

When she came back, in the middle of her party and in front of her entire family, she expressed having a newfound inspiration with her life and finally knowing what she wants to do. And says loudly and proudly, “I want to be an assassin like Demencia!” Everyone was quiet. No one clapped. No one cheered. The only person even seemingly intrigued was a man wearing a top white hat in the back. Personality: She is an endless ball of energy, mostly due to her having so much fun with her unicorn powers and she will always try to use them whenever she can (even if it’s just simply changing her pupils to look like hearts or stars or even question marks). She loves basically being the spoiled little princess of the group, but she also knows when to get serious. And when she is serious, she can be pretty deadly, even though she hides it all with a huge smile on her face and with her excited demeanor all while summoning a battle axe. 

Clem also is a huge dork that loves to make multiple references from games to movies to music, it doesn’t matter. It’s just something that she loves to do. She’s the second most mentally dysfunctional person in the group, often constantly doubting or questioning her decisions She also is obsessed with loving Demencia as much as she is obsessed with killing her or capturing her. All because of that night of Dem saving her and she wants to show her extreme appreciation by being either her greatest enemy or amazing lover. She’s fine with either one. Just as long as she can be with her love.

She loves Slug like a brother and will often play as a lab rat for him by testing his poisons. It doesn’t do any harm, since her horn also has a bit of eldritch magic in it. And other than Demencia, White Hat is another person she’ll die for. She adores him and believes she owes everything to him.

Also, her horn is real and it constantly fries at her brain, while also simultaneously keeping her alive. It be like that sometimes.

~~~

Slug Unglück Kaiser Age: 31 Height: 6 foot 2 (with boots on) 6 foot (with boots off) Job: Medic/Scientist Background:  Basically, his mom and dad are a villain and a hero couple, one of the very few that actually are harmonious together. They actually were (and still are) rivals to each other, but they just think of their “little” fights are just a little game to them. Anyway, they have Slug and his father instantly wants his wife to stop all heroic duties, warning her that now she that she has something precious to her that villains will immediately seek out that target or use him as her weakness. Of course, her being a hero, she ignores him and says she’ll be fine and continues fighting crime. This continues perfectly for a good 5 years, until she ended up going to a mission where they had Slug captured and were using him as leverage. They basically wanted her to give up her life of crime, tossing her a gun, or else her son would die. Not wanting to waste too much time and having already made the decision. She pulled the trigger…killing herself in front of Slug.

The father didn’t blame Slug for her death at the time, but he does immediately try to get him to a life of a crime, despite the fact that he was born normal. His father does this in any way he can whether it be making him see gruesome murders or manipulating Slug or lying to him at every turn, it doesn’t matter to the father. Slug’s grandparents, on his father’s side, hate that their son is doing that to him, so they instead subjugate him to more loving things, this includes making candy and baking. And Slug loves it! So much so that he starts doing it at home more and more, which makes the dad nervous, the last thing that he wants is for Slug to make take himself out of wanting to be a villain. So, the lies, deception, and manipulation increase to full on verbal and mental abuse over the course of 5 or 6 more years. Luckily, Slug always had his baking and candy making to calm him down. 

During one night, while his grandparents were over, his father gets into a very heated argument with his parents while Slug is trying to tune it all out by making his own sugar syrup. The arguing gets louder and louder to the point where Slug felt like he needed to say something, to at least get his viewpoint on things. This gets his dad pissed off to the point where he, blindly in a rage, grabs the pot that Slug was making the syrup and threw it at his face (simple syrup, which is just sugar and a bit of water, can be from 200-240°F), which luckily only hit the left side of his face from reacting quickly. His grandmother immediately tries to calm the burning, while his grandfather keeps his father away from Slug. His father ends up escaping Hat Island and is at large.

Unfortunately, for Slug, while they did get him to a hospital, the syrup gave him four degrees burns, which means you’re to the point where you have brown, leathery skin and you need skin grafting, a part of his lip was burnt so badly that it revealed some of his teeth, and that his left eye was damaged, not blind, but he can barely see out of it. Which is why he needs goggles. Personality: He’s kind of a direct opposite for Flug, like how Flug looks soft but he’s actually intimidating, Slug looks intimidating but is a complete softie. He is pretty blunt person and will always take the more logical route than the emotional, so he tends to seem very cold and analytic, but then will pretty much stuttering out apologies once he’s realized his mistake. He also self-taught himself poisons and engineering to start his own candy van with his friends. 

He also tends to carry candy around as a habit and just something to chew on when he’s thinking or nervous. Plus, he also manufactured his candies to be weapons, just so that no one can get suspicious of him when reaching into his jacket.

 He’s 100% loyal to White Hat and is pretty much ready to kill or harm anyone who dares speak against. He’s even ready to fight against Black Hat if need be, even though he knows it’s a losing fight.

Clemencia is like a little sister to him and he’ll always have her back, but he does tend to make her powers short-circuit on purpose if she does anything too insane.

~~~

White Hat Age: Old…but 300 years younger than Black Hat Height: 6 foot 6 (with hat on) 6 foot 4 (with hat off) Job: Owner of White Hat Incorporated/Consultant Background: …He won’t let me tell you. Personality: How does one describe him? White Hat is the worst out of everyone. Depending on who you are, he can be sweet and nice one second, but then snapping and downright terrifying the next. He likes to refer to people, at least mostly when he’s alone, as his puppets because he can easily trick people that he’s an all-around. I mean, who’s gonna question the man that’s the number one hero and was documented doing so many heroic deeds? No one, which makes this perfect cover up. And no one is safe from him, if you’re a hero or a villain or just an employee and you defy him, trick him, backstab him in anyway, you are probably not gonna live for much longer (in other words, you’re gonna get a visit from Clem) or if he sees value in you, then he has no problem in re-teaching you the rules here in White Hat Inc. 

Other than that, White also loves to be around humans, however. They oddly fascinate him with how interesting they are, especially with how they can easily make their lives harder by making one wrong decision or how they can ruin their day with one intrusive thought. And yet, a lot of them still find reason for continuing to live. Extraordinary. Plus, he also adores the food made on Earth and will sometimes take that over souls or flesh any day.

Also, he’s in a poly relationship with Clem and Slug because their his two most favorite puppets…and he does care for them. Fun fact: I was/am scared of White Hat because I don’t trust people who smile or are happy all the time. I just don’t. No one smiles that much and no one is that carefree. I don’t like them and that’s why I made him a master manipulator. 

~~~

Also, there isn’t a 606, but there is a Hatbot, who basically is pretty much like 505, except he often does harm others. He just believes that he’s playing with them, since he has the mindset of a child.

And that’s pretty much it. Let me know if you want to know more and this is a lot longer than I thought it would be.

[boymeetsweevil]

For science 1/7 -  (NSFW)

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!Jungkook

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings/Themes: masturbation (vaginal) & voyeurism, unrequited feelings, eventual sex. is this crack yet? lol there’s a plot i swear.

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: posting this now because I’ve been working on it on and off for like a month and im tired of looking at it and jk’s bday is coming up HAPPY BIRTHDAY JK and i’ll be too busy with school plus im almost 7k into the second chapter so..

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Your eyes burn in protest as you scroll to the top of your terminal window once more to search for the error that is fucking your code up. It’s been hours of work and you still haven’t managed to get your program to run even though the homework assignment is easy in theory. In fact it’s just like a problem that Jungkook said the professors would probably give you in your sophomore year, and here you are in your junior year seeing such an ‘easy’ question. With him, it had truly been easy, though. Jungkook was a better computer science teacher than any professor you’d ever encountered. Thinking back to early high school days has you smiling softly to yourself. 

You miss sitting closely together, heads sometimes touching, as you both bent over a problem while he explained why it looked hard, but was actually something you could do in your sleep. The wide smile he would give you when you completed competition questions in minimal time would always set your heart fluttering.

Your phone vibrating brings you back to reality. The caller ID reads ~JK~ and you swoop in to answer the call. If the time in the corner of your computer is right (and it is) he should have already opened his decision letter from the PhD department.

“Hey, what’s the verdict,” you ask as soon as you accept the call. You know there’s no other reason why he’d call you when you were supposed to meet up in a few hours for weekly game night.

“I got in,” his voice is soft, but you know him well enough to be able to hear the joy mixed in.

“Congratulations, Kook! That’s amazing, I knew you would get in, they’d be crazy not to accept you. Oh my god, we should celebrate.”

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could go out for drinks before heading back to mine to play tonight. You in?” Now you can practically hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I’m in. Let me just pack up and I can meet you. Where are you--the department lounge? I’ll come over.”

“Actually,” his shy tone has you sitting down slowly, returning your jacket to where you had it slung over the back of your chair. “You don’t have to leave right away. I was gonna try and call Yoori. You know, to tell her the news. And then tell Tae and Hobi, of course.”

“Oh. Yeah, no, that makes total sense. I should probably finish this code for Choi’s class anyway. It’s due on Sunday, but I’m almost done. Might as well turn it in early once I find this error.” Your hand scrapes at the sides of your jeans, looking for something to grab at.

“Well then I guess I have time,” he chuckles, “Your typos are always so tiny that they take hours to find. Let’s meet up at the bar in 2 hours then?” 

You wince. Although it’s not at all a mean-spirited jab, you’re no longer in the mood for the friendly banter at the mention of Yoori, Jungkook’s long time unrequited love.

“Sure. See you then,” you hang up before he has the chance to say goodbye formally like he always insists on doing.

You put your phone down and berate yourself for getting distracted. If you were the brilliant Yoori, you wouldn’t have even made the typo in the first place. But you weren’t Yoori because you didn’t have the fortune of being born four years earlier and four times more beautiful, elegant, or intelligent. And you didn’t have the luck of being so much of a genius that you could skip years ahead of school like Jungkook either. So instead you would just have to chug along, always watching Jungkook chase Yoori.

You go back to scrolling through your code only to find the error a third of the way down. Jungkook was right, the typo was tiny--a misplaced equals sign. You sigh and run the code to make sure it’s perfect this time, and when it is you send it in to your professor to be graded. You consider heading home and using the extra time to make yourself look nice. Not that there was anything wrong with your oversized university t-shirt and jeans, but suddenly you think maybe things would be different for you with regards to your love life if you tried a little harder. You’re about to leave the library entrance that’s closest to your dorm, but you get a text from Jungkook.

6:41 - I called Yoori and she said she heard about my deal with RealiCorp and she wants to link up when she gets back on campus!

You narrow your eyes at the text. Jungkook had recently sold some software he developed to an up and coming gaming company that was supposed to make the imaging on immersion headsets better. He had made a pretty penny and was covertly offered a position at the company, but it was also a large victory for the computer science department at the university and his picture had been circulating around the department website for weeks. You suppose she finally saw it while she was taking a break from her research project off campus and decided to answer his calls for a change.

You text back what you hope sounds like a cheerful congratulation and decide to just go to the bar instead. What’s the harm in a few rounds before the rest of the crew arrives?

The harm would have been miniscule at most if you hadn’t been in your feelings, but when Jungkook, Tae, and Hobi arrive, you’re three rounds in and a little bit sloppy.

“Woah,” Hobi shouts, giving you a too strong pat on the back when he sits in the chair next to you. “Someone started a little early. What’s the occasion, are we celebrating something for you too?” Jungkook shakes his head with a sheepish smile and goes to sit beside you, away from Hoseok.

“Nope. Just getting ready for an evening with your loud ass.” He gives you a pretend pout and flags the bartender over. Tae sits next to him and gives you a little wave and smile.

“Two whiskeys, make mine a sour and make his straight. From the high shelf.”

“Hey now,” Taehyung’s eyes widen comically, “Are you forgetting that payday isn’t until next week? I’ll take the regular whiskey down there, please.”

“Don’t worry. Kookie said he was paying with his RealiCorp money,” Hoseok stage whispers into your ear, “He’ll probably cover your round too.”  You swat him away and turn to Jungkook, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“You know I’ll cover yours. The rest of them, I don’t know.”

“What? Come on, you’re the youngest,” Tae whines, less than satisfied with his cheap whiskey shot.

“Shouldn’t that mean you guys pay for me?”

“N-no! Because you’re actually our senior now. You’re graduating this year, I’m the oldest technically but I’m not graduating until next year. We know these two aren’t graduating until the year after that,” he points to you and Tae, “Plus, you’re going to the PhD program next year. You should definitely be paying for us.” Hoseok has a point, you and Tae nod sagely to back him up.

“Fine,” Jungkook sighs, pushing his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I’m in a good mood, so why not.”

“I bet you are,” Tae’s grin is big and catlike in the low light of the bar. His gaze a little lewd. “I would be too if I was one step closer to finally bagging a girl like Yoori.”

You look down into your beer bottle, the green glass suddenly much more fascinating than the conversation at hand.

“Did you hear,”Hoseok turns toward you,”Yoori is gonna come back soon and when she does he’s gonna make her Mrs. Jeon.”

“I’ll be sure to throw rice during the wedding,” you snark. The bartender brings you a new beer without another word. Taehyung howls at your comment.

“I’d kill to have a wedding night with her.”

“Hell, I’d kill to have a bathroom stall night. With anyone,” Hoseok sighs, “It’s hard out here for a comp-sci major. Right, guys?”

You hum in agreement. It had been a while since you’d last gotten laid.

“You’re right. I can’t even remember that geology minor’s face. Do you remember her? What was her name? Mara? Kara?”

“Sara,” Hoseok provides with a grin, “I think she has a thing for comp-sci majors. Kook, you ever hook up with Sara?”

Jungkook shyly traces a finger around the rim of his empty vodka class. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone.”

“Ever?” You try to keep incredulity from bleeding into your question.

“Ever,” he nods. He hiccups a little and all of the sudden you totally believe that Jungkook is a virgin.

“Dude, wait, I thought you hooked up with that one chick at the music festival last spring. Am I the only one who saw her?” 

Tae nods in agreement. “Yeah, she gave you her hotel room key and everything.”

“It wasn’t like that. She told me her brother was there for a robotics tournament and I asked her if I could see the bot.”

You smile despite your sour mood. If there was one thing you loved about Jungkook it was his blind enthusiasm for STEM. Even if it made him a little oblivious to other things at times.

“Well, you better fix that whole virgin thing fast, bro. Chicks like Yoori probably want someone with experience. In more ways than one, if you catch my drift.” Hoseok nudges Tae with a wry smile.

“That’s not just a Yoori thing, most people don’t want to have to coddle someone in bed unless that’s, like, their kink or something,” you take a large swallow of beer.

“Wait,” Tae says, eyeing you like he’s had an epiphany, “You’re a girl--”

“Didn’t we establish this 2 years ago? When we met?”

“No, no, I mean you can help Kookie so he doesn’t drop the ball with Yoori.”

“Yeah, right,” you snort, “Help him how? Give him a sex-ed lecture?” You turn to laugh with Jungkook, but he’s looking at you seriously. Or as seriously as he can when he’s tipsy with unfocused eyes and blushing cheeks.

“You…don’t want to help me?” His voice sounds pathetic and small, making you feel bad instantly.

“Oh, Kook, it’s not that I don’t want to help you. But think about what that implies.”

“Is it because I’m a virgin?”

“Oh my god, Kook, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin don’t listen to us. We’re idiots.”

“Then why don’t you want to help me?”

Because I like you. You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. You obviously don’t say that, though. Instead you sit back in your bar stool.

“I-I would if I could, but I don’t know how to help you,” you finally say.

“It’s fine. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I guess the thought of being with Yoori makes me a little stupid.”

Desperately you search for a solution. Instead of finding one, you call the bartender back and order a round of tequila shots. Jungkook gives you a sad look but doesn’t ruin the mood by not taking a shot. You order two more rounds because somehow, even though he’s drunk, he still looks dejected. After your third shot you can’t stand the way his shoulder slump.

“You know what,” you slur loudly, drawing three pairs of eyes to your face lazily. “It’s getting late and we might not get to play Fortnite this weekend. Let’s all get to bed so we can be up early tomorrow to play.”

Tae points a wobbly finger in your direction, eyes suspicious. “When you say early, you mean after 2pm right?”

It takes twenty minutes for everyone to get their shit together enough to leave the bar. Tae and Hoseok keep losing each other in the bathroom. Jungkook keeps forgetting that he has to pay and tries to ask the bartender what he thinks about sub-atomic particle physics. Even though you’re drunk off your ass, you somehow manage to keep yourself responsible enough to wrangle Tae and Hobi out of the bathroom and guide Jungkook through the motions of swiping his card and signing the bill. The four of you then squeeze into the back of an uber. Hoseok whines about being lonely while sitting in the passenger’s seat. Jungkook’s bumps his hand against yours until he can firmly grasp it and get your attention before you pass out.

“Hey, can I sleep on the couch,” he whispers in your ear. His breath smells like alcohol and limes. You turn your head to chase the scent away and rest your head on his shoulder. You yawn.

“Sure. No problem, buddy.”

Your apartment is the first stop on the route and you launch yourself out the car and run up through your lobby and to the elevator to escape the cold of the air conditioner and the fluorescent lights. Jungkook lingers in the car until Tae pushes him out to make room for Hoseok.

“Kook,” Tae calls out as he helps Hoseok pour himself into the back seat.

“Wassap?”

“The only way to get good at sex is losta—lotta...lot’s a practish. Okay?”

“But-but…Who am I gonna practice with?”

Tae merely whistles and points a finger upward, gesturing to your illuminated window. The car pulls away and Jungkook sways unsteadily up onto the sidewalk with nausea clawing at his throat. Thinking of the stairs he’ll have to climb—because there’s no way in hell he’s taking the elevator, even in this state—he regrets not just going to his own first floor dorm. Does he really need to get sex counseling from you? There’s always porn, he muses before remembering the rant you’d gone on blaming porn for making a guy you’d been hooking up with try to do weird things in bed involving a summer squash. Looks like he’d have to rely on the real deal to get anywhere with Yoori. Oh, Yoori.

A shimmering vision of the beautiful girl with elegant eyes and an ever-painted smile floats in front of his hazy vision and gives him the strength he needs to hobble forward towards the lobby door with dedication.

Minutes ago you couldn’t wait to go to sleep, but as soon you unlocked your door and made it to your room, you were wide awake. Even brushing your teeth and stripping out of your jeans didn’t to tire you out.

“Fuck,” you groan. You throw yourself onto your bed and hope that the way the room spins will lull you to sleep but when the spinning stops, your eyes still won’t stay closed.

The clock resting on your desk across the room reads 1:48am. It’s already clear that you’re going to be hung over, but knowing that it won’t be cushioned by a nice long sleep before you have to go to yoga at 12 makes you want to cry. You desperately wrack your brain for all the remedies there are to make you sleepy. You just canceled your cable last week to save some money, so you can’t veg out in front of the TV. You’re lactose intolerant, so warm milk isn’t an option. You’d take a warm shower but you washed your hair already and if you go to bed with wet hair your mother’s voice will haunt you all night with stories of the cold coming your way. Kicking your feet in frustration, you toss yourself over the edge of the bed to hang. Maybe all the blood will flow to your head and you’ll pass out.

You’re about to risk passing out and landing on your neck the wrong way and dying when a bright pink shoebox under your bed catches your eye. Of course, you think, how could you forget your precious vibrator. Luckily for you, a good orgasm or three always managed to knock you out like a light. You reach over and scoot the box forward with your outstretched fingertips until you get it close enough to reach inside and grab the petite tiffany blue bullet. Giddy laughter leaves your mouth as you heft yourself back onto your bed and fall back on the pillows with a contented sigh. Orgasms solve all your problems. You flick the device on to the lowest setting and ghost it against your clothed mound.

Jungkook is completely breathless as he leaves the center stairwell and finally arrives on your floor. The stairs were a bitch and a half, but your door is only two down from the floor entrance. He can practically hear the siren song of your pull-out couch. When he turns the knob to your front door, it doesn’t budge and he wonders if you must have locked it on instinct. There’s no way you forgot that he was staying over, he thinks to himself. Reaching above the doorjamb, he hunts for the spare key you left there especially for him. The door unlocks easily and he smiles to himself as he locks the door behind him and toes off his shoes. He’s about to face plant into the couch when you call his name faintly from your bedroom.

As he stumbles through the hallway slowly to your room, he thinks over what Taehyung said to him before driving off. To Jungkook’s drunk mind it makes sense, so it must be a good idea to seek sex practice from you. You’re the only girl he knows and he’s known you so long that he can already tell there would be no awkwardness. The sad look in your eyes as you listened to his predicament in the bar tells him that you want to help him, but you didn’t know what route to take. He flexes his hands by his sides and figures he’ll just tell you what Taehyung told him and get to coming up with a curriculum.

The door to your bedroom is half-open and the lights shine through the opening, so he figures you must be up and waiting for him. He can still hear you calling his name, but it still sounds oddly soft from where he is. He pushes the door open but freezes in his tracks when he sees you.

The first thing he notices is obviously the frantically moving hand you have between your legs and the loud buzzing sound that comes from it. He takes in more details the longer he looks. He realizes belatedly then that you’re not wearing pants. Thanks to the high prescription strength of his glasses, he can also see the way your hand and thighs shine and the huge dark spot in the crotch of your panties in the light of your table lamp. Your toes are curling and he can just make out the way your lower stomach clenches underneath the very same sweatshirt you’d been wearing to the bar. Technically he can’t see your other hand but he has a pretty good idea of where it is and what it might be doing with the way it disappears under your shirt. You can’t see him, though, because your head is thrown back and your eyes are closed. The only thing you’re probably at least partly aware of is the cacophony of wet sounds that come from where you work the nose of the toy over yourself. The last thing he notices is the way you call his name in a soft whining tone that has him stepping forward without thinking.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whine as the slippery heel of your hand bumps against your covered clit a little roughly on an upstroke.

“Yes?”

“What the hell,” your eyes snap open and your head whips around to see him leaning on the door frame as he watches you.

His eyes are heavy with alcohol and his cheeks are just as pink as the lip he releases from the grasp of his teeth. He reaches out and stumbles forward, causing you to scramble back to distance yourself from him. You bring your knees up to hug to your chest before you realize that you’re still very much on show.

“Jeon Jungkook, what is going on here,” you shriek, bringing your hands to cover your eyes only makes you feel a little bit better.

He sits down on your bed like it’s any other day and he’s just chilling in the room like you invited him over. And then you realize that you did kind of invite him over as fragmented memories of the recent uber ride you took together spring up.

“You said you wanted to help me, but you didn’t know how. But Tae told me I just have to practish.”

“Practish?”

“Practice,” he corrects himself.

“Practice what?”

“Practice sex. Duh!”

“Jungkook, no!”

“Please? I wouldn’t be asking such a huge favor if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary.”

“Why can’t you just go to a frat party like everyone else?” 

Your heart is beating rapidly and you think maybe you’re not drunk anymore. Never in your life did you think you would turn down sex from Jungkook, but then again you never pictured it happening this way.

“Because I,” his head hangs and he starts to pick at a loose thread in your duvet, “I guess I missed out on this kind of thing when we were younger and I don’t think I could get very good results in a basement party. Plus, I know you’d…”

“I’d what?”

“You’d be good to me.” He lifts his eyes to lock with yours. His gaze is oddly sharp despite the fact that his skin is still clammy like it gets when he drinks.

Your breath hitches and for a moment it does feel like the fantasies you have almost every other time that you settle into your room, lonely and horny. Jungkook laughs bitterly to himself and you can feel your resolve crumbling as something selfish rears its head in the back of your mind. He tries one last time. 

“Please?” 

You crack.

“Okay.”

“Really?” His eyes light up once more as he gives you a blinding smile. “Great. Let’s start!”

It feels as though you’re having an out of body experience as you watch him clamber closer onto the bed with you. Your legs naturally open to accommodate him and he scoots into your space, his hands falling to naturally stroke with the soft skin of your ankles. Even though he lacks experience, Jungkook has a leg up in that he’s naturally on the affectionate side. Something you can’t teach with any amount of practice. Even still, the idea that Jungkook will be sitting between your naked thighs makes your stomach do flip flops.You barely start formulating something to say that will sound educational when you hear him get ready to interject once more.

“God, what is it?” You worry that if he interrupts you one more time you’ll lose your nerve.

“I need a visual aid. And, uh, I won’t be able to see because of your, uh, undergarments.”

You’re certain that you’ve never taken anything off faster than you do in that moment. The panties fly into some far corner of your room and you can only hope that they don’t land in a clump of dust bunnies.

“Alright,” you stutter, “I don’t have to give you an anatomy lesson, right? Please tell me you at least know where everything is.”

“We took anatomy together in 7th grade,” he says like that’s a decent answer.

You roll your eyes. “Right, okay. Anatomy lesson it is.”

“What’s this,” you point at yourself.

“That’s the uh…entrance to the vagina?”

“Ok and?”

“It’s where the pleasure comes from?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes?”

“Partial credit.”

“Isn’t that where the…phallus goes, though?” You decide it would be best to ignore his word choice for now.

“Yeah, I mean stuff goes in there but that’s not where all the pleasure comes from. For some people that’s not where any of it comes from.”

His eyes widen nervously. “Then where does it come from if not from penetration?”

You gesture again. “This is the clitoris.” His sweaty bangs flop over his lenses as he nods enthusiastically. Finally something he remembers.

“The clitoris,” he chirps affirmatively. You side eye him, but keep going.

“This little thing is basically there for the sole purpose of pleasure.”

“How do I activate it?” Again you blink at his terminology. Although you’d been a STEM freak with Jungkook for years, somehow he managed to baffle you with his nerdiness.

“Uh, you can stimulate it by touching it.” You draw a small circle in the air around the nub to demonstrate. “Like that, for example. You can also use your hands or your mouth.”

“Or that little blue thing you were using earlier,” he chimes in, reminding you of the embarrassing way this whole thing started.

You sigh. “Yeah. That too.”

“And that’s it?”

“No that’s definitely not it. We haven’t even touched the other places of pleasure or technique or foreplay. But this is a pretty good cheat code.”

“So what about the inside? Like the tubes?”

“There’s really not that much you need to know involving the actual reproductive organs themselves. We can just focus on the external bits for now.” You wince at how uncomfortable the discussion is.

“That makes sense,” his brows furrow seriously. He’s slow to blink, partly so he doesn’t miss anything and partly because he’s still fighting off tendrils of sleep.

“I mean,” you wring your hands anxiously, “that’s all you really need to know for now. It’s mostly learning on the go, anyway. You’ll be fine.”

“But what if I’m not fine. Don’t you think you could, you know, show me?”

“What is there to show?”

“How about you just continue…what you were doing when I came in.”

“Masturbating.”

“What?”

“I was masturbating when you came in.”

A hand flies to the collar of his shirt and he tugs on it sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

You try not to focus on how weirdly awkward the mood is now that your lust has calmed down to barely even a simmer. You reach for the discarded vibrator that jumped out of your hand and landed by the edge of the head of your bed, but he stops you with a raised hand.

“Can you, uh, maybe do it the old-fashioned way? For the first time at least?”

“Right, I guess I’ll get to it.”

Jungkook sits back on his heels patiently and watches closely as your hand trails a path down your torso to the apex of your thighs. The first touch, though you know it’s your own hand, has you twitching a bit. You bite your lip hard to focus and circle your entrance to coax out more moisture, then you move back to circle your clit. You close your eyes in hopes that not being able to see Jungkook’s gaping expression will help. It does, a bit. After a few moments, you let out a breathy sigh and sink further into the pillows. You plant one foot more firmly on the mattress to give yourself some leverage and push yourself more into your circling hand. The slight increase in pressure has you moaning and your eyes fluttering. You peek through heavy lids to see Jungkook’s expression has also changed. His eyes, clear just a second ago, look glassy again from behind his lenses, his mouth slack and shiny. The rise and fall of his chest is a bit heavier. You let yourself think it’s because of you and go back to collect more arousal to increase the slip.

Apparently, you’re more turned on than you thought. When your middle and ring fingers wander down to your hole they come back pleasantly slick. Something in you suddenly feels rebellious, so you use your free hand to spread your lips further and bring your coated fingers up to Jungkook’s face. You flex your fingers and separate them to show crystalline streaks of arousal connecting them.

“Just so you know, this is a good sign.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Somehow, even though you’re still wearing socks and a baggy sweatshirt, you’re hotter than all the completely bare, busty women he’d watched moan and writhe wildly on his computer screen. He reaches out and delicately grabs you wrist before redirecting your hand back to your dripping center.

“Keep going,” he rasps.

You whine and begin to rub your clit more earnestly, lewd wet sounds fill the room. He can practically see your lips getting wetter and wetter as you redistribute your arousal with every rough swipe of your fingers. Your wrist is moving fast, but it’s clear that you’re becoming frustrated with all that you can do with one hand. Your other hand quickly moves to take over making tight figure eights around your clit while the one already coated in your juices moves back down to your entrance once more. This time, you crook two shining fingers and shove them into your hole. Immediately your back bends and a drawn out moan leaves your mouth. Jungkook gasps quietly. You pump your fingers in and out roughly, then withdraw them to add a third finger.

He watches you like that for a while before you get fed up again. It’s been a while since you’ve been so needy and you feel like you’re on fire. Your toes curl impatiently on either side of Jungkook and he realizes you’re looking for more. On instinct he scoots further until his own legs are brushing up against the undersides of yours. His hand reaches out to pet your quivering thigh in a sympathetic effort to help with your plateau. He looks down at your hand, twitching feverishly in and out of yourself. His hands are much bigger and suddenly he moves like he’s about to replace your fingers with his own.

When Jungkook’s hands start to approach your center your breath hitches. You’re not quite in the right state of mind to reject him if he offers to finger you, but you don’t want to take advantage of the situation and make it any more emotionally complicated than it already is.

“Not yet,” you offer when his hands get too close for comfort, “Next time, maybe.”

He seems to be thinking the same thing and averts his attention to the forgotten vibrator. His grip on your thigh disappears, and you sigh quietly, but it’s hidden under the slick sounds you make each time your fingers get sucked into your heat and the low moans you make every time your pinch your clit just so.

“W-what do I do?” His voice is small and his sudden worried look has you wrapping a hand around his and bringing it to show him how you click the toy on and circle it around your entrance.

His hands are sweaty, shaky, so when your hips start to circle on their own, they move to find a resting spot on your thighs and squeeze to deal with the tension rising in his own belly. He grits his teeth, clenches his hands, does anything he can to keep from overstepping and making this about him. As obviously cliché as it sounds, seeing you sweating and moaning underneath him lets him see you in a new light. You’d always been around, but your presence as a woman in his life was backgrounded at best. Now, with Yoori momentarily not clouding his mind, he wants nothing more than to ravage you. He’s almost certain that if he tried, his lack of experience wouldn’t matter too much. He’s sure his body would be able to act on baser instinct and give you the what you wanted. If you wanted.

Your moans change in pitch and soon he’s aware that this will be the first time he’ll have been privy to someone else’s orgasm in real life. His dick is painfully hard and straining against the jeans he’s wearing. But he forgets the discomfort fast as he watches you grind yourself down against the toy in a way that is absolutely filthy. Your bottom lip, shiny and reddened, is pulled taut between your teeth in ecstasy. Your eyes flutter open and lock with his own. You focus and notice his blown-out pupils look huge within the depths of deep brown irises. There’s no denying he’s turned on once you flick your gaze down to his crotch and see the large tent in his pants.

“I—I think I’m gonna…Oh!” Your leg kicks out on its own like some electric current runs through you. Your voice breaks as the waves of your approaching high begin to take over you. One of his hands inches upwards a bit and strokes the tense muscle near your groin softly, at a loss for words. “Oh god, Jungkook, you—” keening, your eyes roll into the back of your head.

One of your hands reaches up to squeeze at his bicep as he’s leaning over you. He wonders in the back of his mind when he got so close to you. Your leg hooks around him like it has a mind of it’s own and tugs him down, forcing him to topple over you. That’s the last straw and you sob from the intense pleasure. Meanwhile your warmth and proximity and your words prove to be a deadly combination and within seconds he’s spilling over himself in his boxers, untouched. He lets out a low groan that puffs against the side of your neck.

You both sit there and breathe for a long while, catching your breath and coming back down to earth. He sits up eventually and pulls away from you, leaving you cold. Your legs flop from around him heavily. You’re a bit irritated when you realize you won’t be able to walk normally for a while. He discretely wipes his hands off on your duvet while you wipe at the sweat soaking your hairline.

“That’s it, that’s the show,” you finally say.

He shoots up and looks at you anxiously. It’s cute. “You mean until next time, right?”

His eyes are wide and imploring as he hovers over by you. He looks a bit like a turtle from this angle. A cute one, though. One that you want to play with again next week. You nod even though he might have all that he needs to do well with Yoori, being the fast learner that he is.

“I guess so. Same time, next week. Do some research for next time maybe. Make sure it’s from something not involving the medical library.”

“Got it!” He turns and waits until you’re not looking to adjust his pants.

You notice his hair is sticking to his forehead when he finally stands up. And there’s a cowlick sticking up in the back that reminds you of middle school Jungkook, before he met Yoori. The idea of the other girl, the girl he’s really in love with, dims your post-coital glow. Although, you suppose you have her to thank for this evening’s events. How else could you have ever managed a one-sided romp in the sheets with your long-time crush?

Both of you take turns using the bathroom to clean up. While he hums in time with washing up, you slip panties on and debate about whether or not to throw your sweats back on. You decide that if you’re going to play this off like it hasn’t changed your relationship, you should put pants back on.He comes out looking pink and clean and you want to pull him back into your bed and wrap yourself around him. 

To protect his glasses from the dangers of the bathroom, he left them in your room. Squinting, he walks with hands out to collect them. When he puts them on he doesn’t look at you and instead pulls his phone out of his pocket and swipes around while leaving the room.

“Heading out,” you ask with a quasi-disinterested tone.

“Yeah, I remembered I have to run the Saturday tutoring session this week. So I might as well go home so I can get ready for that. You should come, you know. Your test scores dropped 2 points this week.” Typical Jungkook. He couldn’t ever fully leave TA mode.

You roll your eyes. “Thanks for the reminder, but that’s still an A.”

“Maybe we can try this again next week the same time?”

“Yeah, uh, okay.”

“Cool, I’ll put it on my calendar.” He lifts his phone to his face to tell the digital assistant to pencil you in for next week. You try not to grimace at becoming a date in his calendar app.

“Get out already, you nerd.” You push him out after he puts his coat back on, but you do watch out the window to make sure his taxi comes.