#to challenge him are So fascinating and that thread didn’t get picked up but i want to dig right into that’

[ceramicbeetle]

almost no one has written binx/hob content and certainly no one had written it in the way i am currently finding it intriguing, which is admittedly disappointing. so perhaps i will have to do it if no one else will.

[aftqrglow]

hi write more dad!bucky headcanons please and thank you

there u go

BELLA I LOVE THIS???? IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG MY LOVE I HOPE YOU LIKE IT <33

pairing: dad!bucky x reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: just a bunch of headcanons about bucky with his children

warnings: babies; mentions of pregnancy; i think that’s it? otherwise, its pure fluff

a/n: i've never written headcanons before dhajdjjss i'm sorry if this sucks. i’ve talked about some of these on here before, but i added them here anyway. 

Let's get this out of the way: Bucky is the best dad ever.

I mean, you thought you always knew he was going to be a great father. He's a literal angel, after all. But when you had your daughter, Marigold, you realized just how amazing he really was.

Bucky took care of everything. From waking his little girl up for school every morning, getting her ready and even making her breakfast. 

He would often let her hook her arms around his metal arm and lift her into the air, the sound of her laughter filling the home you had built with the love of your life.

Bucky used to be insecure about his arm, once. About the scars that littered his shoulder like constellations in the sky, the vibranium shot through with gold. And while you had managed to rid him of most of these inhibitions, he still wore his gloves when he dropped Mari off at school.

That was, until the day Mari dragged him to meet her friends

"Look, guys," she said, with the biggest grin on her face. "My dad has a robot arm. How cool is that?"

Bucky damn near teared up at the look of pride on her face. Because how could his baby girl ever be ashamed of him? Her father was a hero who had saved more lives with that arm than he had taken, even if he forgot that sometimes.

When Mari decided she wanted to be a nail tech, he bought her a full kit just so she could practice.

Of course, she chose her dad to be her model.

Bucky walked around for weeks with his nails painted painted pink, waiting until the nail polish was chipped so bad he had no choice but to ask Mari to take it off and put on a fresh coat.

Seeing your husband with your daughter, you were completely unafraid to tell him that you were pregnant again.

You had never met a man capable of giving as much love to everyone around him as Bucky was, after all.

Bucky was overjoyed when you told him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up into the air and spinning you around, laughing like a child.

And when you found out that you were having twins—there's no way to put into words how delighted he was.

Just as he had when you were pregnant with Mari, Bucky took care of everything.

Only this time, he had Mari to help him.

The two of them repainted the nursery together. One of the walls was left the yellow-splattered orange it had been painted previously—for your Mari's name. One was painted a midnight blue for your daughter, and another a mint green for your son.

Brainstorming names was somewhat of a challenge. Bucky, of course, had two names in mind, but he was unsure of how you would react to them.

That was, until you brought it up yourself.

"I think we should name the boy Steve," you said one night, as he got ready for bed. "And our girl—Rebecca. After your sister."

Bucky froze.

"Are you sure, love? We—I know you had a lot of names in mind, but—"

"They were two of the most important people in your life, Bucky. Of course I'm sure."

The first time Bucky held Steve and Rebecca in his arms, he was shaking. Never in his life had he expected that he would have not one, but three beautiful children.

Three children with your hair and his eyes.

A family he would live and die for.

Mari was the most enchanting older sister. She read to her siblings every night, clambering into the crib and lying in between them, careful and gentle in a way most six-year-olds aren't.

As they got older, little Steve's fascination with his dad's metal arm grew.

He would draw little stars on the vibranium with white dry-erase markers, then rub them off with his thumb.

Steve never failed to boast about how his dad was a superhero to his friends at school—to the point where Bucky was bombarded with little boys asking to touch his metal arm every time he went to pick the kids up from school.

Becca, meanwhile, never let you do her hair. "I like it better when dad does it, Mommy."

And so Bucky did her hair every morning, sleeking those strands back into a silken braid, securing the ends with a black hair-tie that had threads of gold running through it.

"To match Dad's arm," Becca had grinned when she had asked you to buy it for her.

Eventually, Becca decided that if Bucky braided her hair, it was only fair that she braided his too.

It started one morning as Bucky was getting ready for school, when she told him that he was doing her hair all wrong and proceeded to climb up on the bed and put a tiny little braid in her dad's hair.

Of course, Bucky wore it around for the rest of the day.

The braid, coupled with his nails painted pink, thanks to Mari, subjected him to Sam's ceaseless teasing.

He didn't care, though. His heart swelled in his chest every time he glanced down at his nails or his fingers brushed the braid in his hair.

To the point where he grew his hair out again, just so Mari and Becca could braid it.

Of course, Steve decided that he wanted long hair too when he saw his dad skipping haircuts.

In fact, Steve even insisted you braid little sections of his hair like his sisters did for his dad.

It didn't matter to him what the boys at school said about his hair. If it was good enough for Dad, it was good enough for him.

Sam was bewitched by your children too. It was hard to say who was more excited to see the other on the weekends, when choruses of, "Uncle Sammy!" broke through the house every time the doorbell rang.

Spending Sundays at your house became sort of a tradition, as did spending holidays on Sam's boat.

Sarah's sons were enamored with your children. The five of them were inseparable, running around the docks, dodging Sam's neighbors who had now come to know the Barnes family all too well.

Bucky had never really imagined that he would ever know peace like this: with a family that he wasn't going to lose this time.

With friends he was sure wouldn't leave him behind.

He had never allowed himself to hope for it

But as he watched the sunset over the waters, sitting next to Sam with a bottle of beer in his hand, the sound of your laughter mixed with his kids' filling the air around him, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he had done something right with his shot at redemption after all.

Tags:

@goldengoddess @wherearethesantreys @guzaarysh @for-bebbanburg @mriddlemethis @xleiaorgana @xsamsharons @getluciferoutofthecage

if you would like to be added to my taglist, just send me a message or an ask off anon!

[earlgreydream]

the garden.

| 1940s!bucky barnes x reader | fluff | mild angst |

You walked home from work, seeing your new neighbor, Bucky Barnes, leaning against the wall of his house. His arrogant smirk appeared as you walked up the path to your door, scrunching your nose at the sight of him. 

James Buchanan Barnes was irritating. The first day he’d moved in, he and his friends were loud until the early hours of the morning, drunkenly shouting along with his record player. Then, his drunk friends had walked through your garden, trampling half of your flowers and some vegetables. And he was always outside with his stupid smirk, thinking his pretty face was enough to win you over. 

Bucky was also gorgeous, and the worst part was, he knew it. You’d seen him in town flirting with girls in the market, and everywhere he went. Even your friends all fought for his attention. When they’d come over, you’d sit outside on your porch and they would all wave to him and giggle. He greeted them, chattering with the blushing and giggling girls who fell at his feet. You always rolled your eyes and ignored him, unamused.

Bucky was fascinated by you, the only girl to never fall for his charm. He was charismatic and had every girl at his fingertips that he had ever wanted. He knew that the two of you had gotten off on the wrong foot, and you despised his smoking habit. However, he had made it his goal to win you back over, but you had proven to be stubborn. You were a challenge, and Bucky was determined.

“Hey doll.” He greeted you as you stepped up onto your porch.

“It’s Y/N.” You scowled at him, and he said your name, winking at you.

He checked you out, admiring you in your high waisted pants and button down. You shook your head at him, going inside your house, closing the door. You put your grocery bag down and started to make dinner, when you saw Bucky on your porch. You groaned and opened your window, looking at him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“My stove is out of gas. Could you put me up for dinner?” He gave you a boyish grin, rocking on his heels.

“Why would I do that?”

“To be neighborly,” he suggested.

“C’mon. Because I’ll buy you dinner tomorrow?” Bucky tried again.

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Y/N, the stores are closed, it’s late.”

“Fine. Get in here.” You gave in, shaking your head and shutting the window. He waltzed through the front door, looking too pleased with himself.

“Plus, I brought a gift!” He held up a bottle of rosé.

“So you can get drunk and ruin my flowers again?”

“I apologized for that. Please forgive me.”

“You’re forgiven.” You said, not convincing him or yourself. 

“Where’re your glasses?” He asked, and you pulled a cabinet open, stirring your pot of pasta. He pulled down two glasses and filled them.

“Maybe I don’t drink.”

“You do, this is your favorite wine. I’ve seen you drinking it on the porch swing at least twice.” Bucky called you out.

“Oh, so you stalk me?” You accused. 

“No, you just sit outside all the time.” 

He lifted the glass to his lips, smiling behind the rim. You drank from your own, needing it in order to deal with him. You noticed his dog tags, resting against his skin with the top few buttons of his shirt undone. He caught you staring, but he held eye contact, wanting to make you blush. 

“You fight in the war?” You asked, and he shook his head.

“I will. I haven’t been deployed yet. Me and my friend Steve recruit here, but we’ll go with the next team.”

“Where will you go?”

“Germany, maybe. Or Poland.” 

You hummed, thinking that Bucky didn’t seem like the military type. You supposed it was his duty though, and he didn’t want to be labeled as a draft dodger. You strained the noodles and mixed them with the sauce, serving him a plate. Bucky thanked you, taking a seat at your tablecloth. 

“Hey, get down, Pepper.” You scolded your cat that jumped onto his lap. You apologized and he smiled, petting her head.

“She has no manners. Push her off,” 

“She’s fine. I don’t mind.” He smiled, and your cat jumped onto the floor, prowling for dropped food. You ate quietly, ignoring his silver gaze. 

“How long have you lived here?” He made conversation.

“Since I left my parents’ house when I was sixteen,” 

“That’s awful young. Why?”

You didn’t answer, pouring yourself another glass of wine, and he tilted his glass for more. You emptied the rest of the bottle into his glass, earning a thank-you. 

“You don’t have to buy me dinner.”

“I’m absolutely buying you dinner. We’ll go out, to Brooklyn.” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Is there any way to get out of it?” You asked.

“I’m afraid not.” 

“You’re an amazing cook.” Bucky complimented, standing and taking your empty plates before you could.

“Thanks. I got that-”

“No, you cooked. I’ll do the dishes.” He turned on your sink and began to wash everything, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You watched him, biting back a small smile. 

“I’ll just be getting out of your hair. Have a goodnight, doll.” 

You rolled your eyes, closing the door after him. You picked up your cat and held her, watching him walk across the lawn. He waved at you when he saw you watching through the window, and you shut the curtains.

You came home the next day, tired and annoyed from work. You were in a bad mood, and you just wanted to relax.

“James?” You stopped when you saw him kneeling in your yard.

“Y/N, you’re home.”

“Why the hell are you in my yard?!” You demanded, opening the gate. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked. I was replanting your flowers.” He said, kneeling in your garden. 

Your eyebrows shot up as you saw the rows of freshly planted daffodils, and you walked over to him slowly. 

“Thank you.” You were impressed, and he leaned back on his heels. 

“I’m... I can’t take you out like this. Let me change, then we can go for our dinner?” He smiled down at himself, dirt and grass staining his pants.

You nodded, hiding your smile behind your hand, feeling butterflies in your stomach. You shook your head, watching him go toward his house. You went inside and quickly changed your own clothes, into wide white pants and a yellow button down. You fixed your makeup, and went to meet him on the porch. You bit your lip, smiling as you opened the door to find him standing with a bouquet of daisies.  

“Bucky...” You couldn’t keep the grin off your face.

“I thought you’d like them. I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“It’s working.” You whispered before putting the flowers in a vase. You walked to his car with him, and he opened the door for you, being so charming.

Bucky lived to see your smile. When he finally earned it with the flowers, warmth erupted in his chest and spread through him. He had truly felt bad about your garden and spent the whole afternoon replanting it for you. He drove you into the city, music playing softly on the radio.

“Where are we going?”

“New York pizza, Y/N,” Bucky looked proud of himself.

“That sounds amazing.” You confessed, your stomach growling. You’d missed lunch at work, and you were starving. 

“Pizza is my favorite.” 

“Mine too!” Bucky announced, and you giggled at that. He turned and smiled at you, his gaze lingering a little longer than it usually did. 

You arrived at the pizza place, following Bucky inside. He put his hand on your lower back, and you felt the butterflies again. 

“What would you like?” 

“Margherita pizza. I’m a classic girl.”

“Perfect.” He ordered for the two of you, leaning against the bartop while you waited.

“We’ll take it to go.”

“We’re not eating here?” You asked, confused, and he shook his head. 

“Got a better idea.” Bucky winked at you, taking the pizza box once it was done. 

“Can you take this for a second, doll?” He asked, handing it to you as we stood outside. You took it from him, and he leaned into his car, pulling out a blanket before taking the pizza. He nodded for you to follow, and you walked a few blocks down to a park, where he spread the blanket. You were beaming as you sat down beside him, the glow of the street lights and the stars making him look impossibly more attractive. 

“You’ve outdone yourself.” You smiled, biting into a slice of pizza. He looked pleased, and the two of you found yourselves talking until the streets were silent. You were sitting in front of him, when he leaned forward, kissing you. You kissed him back, threading your fingers into his dark hair, letting him move you onto his lap. His tongue pushed past your lips, your mouths moving in sync. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Bucky asked, surprising you. You were blushing furiously, and you almost said no, but the feeling his words gave you, made your heart race.

“Yes, James.” You pecked his lips and he grinned into the kiss.

That was how you and Bucky ended up spending most of your time together. He helped you tend to your garden, and you taught him about the plants. You were a botanist with a green thumb, and he was in awe of your tender care of your plants. Every night in the following weeks was spent with the two of you gently rocking on your porch swing, drinking coffee, listening to records, or making out. Either that, or you were listening to him read on the couch or in your bed. 

You and Bucky had been together for almost two months, when he came home late from work one evening when it was nearing October. You were waiting on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, watching for his car to roll in. 

“James!” You called, and he walked up to you. 

“Hey, doll.” He leaned down and kissed you sweetly. You looked up at him, and your gaze meeting with sad eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Worry filled you, and he sat down next to you. 

“I’m getting deployed. We leave in two weeks.” He breathed, and your heart fell into pieces. 

“I’ll wait for you.” You said finally.

“Y/N, you could be waiting for years, or I may not make it back.”

“Don’t say that!” You cried. 

“It’s the truth--” 

Tears started rolling down your cheeks, and you shook your head. You climbed onto his lap and clung to him, gripping his shirt and crying into his shoulder. He rubbed your back and held you on the porch. 

“I want to get married, before you go.” You said, and he turned your face to look at him.

“Doll, you can’t mean that.”

“No, I do. Marry me. Marry me and promise you’ll come back for me.” You touched his face, and he brushed tears from your cheeks. 

“I will marry you, and I will fight every single day to come home to you. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you.”

For months, you and your cat waited on your porch, the cool metal dog tags resting against your sternum. A box of his letters sat on your bedside table, telling you how much he missed you, and loved you, and he wanted to come home to his beautiful wife. All of your friends thought you were mad for marrying a man you’d only dated a few months, the week before he went off to war. A star hung in your window, and every day was spent waiting. Your garden flourished, pumpkins growing as autumn approached. The nights you spent outside began to grow colder, and you waited.

When you saw him, it was like fireworks exploded inside of you. He was tired, he looked wartorn, and he was definitely more muscular. You screamed, tossing your blanket off of you, and running. You jumped over the fence, making him laugh. You threw your arms around him, and he caught you as you jumped into his arms. He held you tightly and spun you around, planting a deep kiss to your lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” 

You were crying as Bucky held you, overwhelmed with joy to see him. You didn’t sleep that night, or the next few. 

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Booty Shorts

Pairing: BNHA Boys x fem!reader

Warnings: Groping and lots of making out. No-no language in Bakugou's. Idk just general vulgarity, I guess.

Author's Note: 

I don't really know what I was thinking when I came up with this, but, uh, here it is. I made this.

Anyway, my idea behind this was something along the lines of an insecure and/or modest reader who normally dresses kinda conservatively around other people but one day she decides that she's comfortable and puts on some booty shorts and a tank top (spicy spicy) more or less for her boyfriend. That's literally it. They're all a bit different, though.

I am throwing my dignity out the window here, okie? It's all for you guys, so enjoy (ya horny fricks). 

Enjoy some more BNHA trash from me!

-Sugar (from prolly four months ago. This one is kind of old and I was debating whether or not I should post it, but I’m starting to get really tired of letting it sit in my drafts and I edited it so it wasn’t quite as atrocious as the original on Wattpad)

Jesus forgive me <( ‘-////-)>

↞┉┉┉↠

Characters: Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari

Bakugou:

● You made your way up to Katsuki's dorm, cautiously making sure no one saw you

● You were wearing shorts that left little to the imagination and a hoodie, which you planned to discard soon after reaching your destination

● You knocked on Bakugou's door, which he quickly answered

● At first, he didn't even notice anything different, until his eyes slipped down and fell upon your bare legs

● He sucked in a breath and pulled you into his room, quickly shutting his door

● He pressed your back against his chest, his hands moving from their grip on your hips down to stroke your exposed thighs, then back up to squeeze your butt

● You knew he had a slight fascination with it, since you were constantly catching him watching you while you were turned away from him

● You had finally decided to give him exactly what he wanted, and you could tell he wasn't complaining

● "Did anyone see you?" he whispered in your ear, a possessive tone creeping into his voice

● "No," you breathed

● "Good." He gave you a light slap, enjoying watching the resulting jiggle

● He started guiding you towards his bed, where he pushed you down onto his mattress

● "What made you decide to tease me like this today?" he asked, bending over you, his hands going back to caressing your legs

● You shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the flush that had made itself present across your cheeks

● He smirked and met his lips to yours in a searing kiss, his tongue quickly entering your mouth

● You sucked on it, pulling him closer as his lips moved to press against yours

● You halted your makeout session to pull your hoodie over your head, revealing a spaghetti strap tank top and no bra

● Katsuki kinda lost it; it being too early in your relationship to have been very intimate, so it wasn't like he'd seen your skin so much before

● His hands don't know where to go, wanting to be everywhere at once, touching and feeling every inch of your skin beneath him

● He palms one of your breasts, causing you to whimper into the kiss he had given you

● He decides to take his shirt off too, repaying your gesture

● The sight of his toned body causes your breath to catch in your throat and he grins at your reaction to him as you reach up your hands to touch him

● You make out for a long time on his bed, hands brushing over anywhere they could reach

● After several minutes, it comes to an end, the two of you pausing to catch your breaths

● "Why did I come over here again?" you ask no one in particular, your voice still breathless as you lay against Katsuki's pillow

● "To see me, dumbass." He settles himself beside you, his eyes occasionally dropping back down to your rising and falling chest

● "Well, yeah, but weren't we going to do something?"

● "You checked out of that when you showed up to my door in those shorts."

● "Like what you see?" You smirk

● "Of course, you stupid nerd. What did you think?"

● You chuckle and ruffle his hair, making him scowl. "Come on, weren't we going to watch a movie or something?"

● "I don't know."

● "Well we can't exactly make out all night—"

● "Says who?" Katsuki's eyes take on a familiar dangerous gleam

● If there's one thing you'd learned from your relationship, it was to never challenge Bakugou

● He straddled you once more, bending down to kiss your nearly bare chest, then worked his way back up to your collarbone, nibbling at your neck

● "Tonight," he said, his face still pressed into your skin, "I don't want to do anything that doesn't involve you up against me. And I'm not taking my hands off you until tomorrow morning."

● You swallowed and nodded, allowing him to plant more kisses against your body, worshiping your skin below him

● After another long round of making out, he finally got up and turned off his lights, sliding back into bed with you

● "You stopped touching me."

● "Fuck off." He laid his head on your boobs, tangling his legs around yours. "Good night, Princess."

● You smiled. "Good night, baby."

_______________

Kirishima:

● You and Kirishima had just come back from a late-night walk and decided to go up to your room for the night

● Kirishima had left to go get ready for bed while you did the same; brushing your teeth, washing your face, etc

● When it came to putting on your pajamas, you looked over to your tank top and shorts

● You shrugged, deciding to go through with wearing them for the night, knowing you would be more than warm enough with Kirishima pressed against you

● When you came out of the bathroom, Kirishima had already let himself in, and was now waiting for you on the bed; his hair down, in gray sweatpants and a loose t-shirt

● He turned when he heard the door open. "Hey, babe. Are you ready for—Woah."

● He stops when he catches sight of your exposed body, a dopey grin lighting up his features as his eyes slowly rove over you, taking everything in

● You're still standing by the door, a little bit shy

● He gets up and strides over to you, running his hands from your shoulders all the way down your arms, finally taking your hands in his

● He leads you to your bed, turning off the overhead light on the way, leaving your room lit only by the warm glow of your bedside lamp

● He sits back down on the edge of your bed, pulling you onto his lap

● He presses a few sweet kisses against your lips, eventually moving down to your jawline and then onto your neck

● His hands feel up the outer sides of your thighs, exploring the uncovered skin until he reaches your butt, experimentally giving it a gentle squeeze

● He finally picks you up and turns, laying you down onto your bed so he can kiss your collarbone, trailing more kisses all the way down to the exposed tops of your breasts

● You inhale deeply at the sensation and he notices, nuzzling his nose into you like an affectionate puppy

● You finally shiver and let out a little whine. The shock of if made the two of you pause and giggle

● Eijirou sighs and settles his head on your chest, reveling in the feeling of your soft skin against his face

● "What's with the wardrobe change?" he mumbles against you

● You shrug, threading your fingers through his soft red hair. "Just felt like it."

● He chuckled, the sound traveling into his chest and ending as a bit of a growl. You shivered again at the sound, your body barely held still by the weight of Kirishima

● "I like it." He kisses you again

● "I feel comfortable around you now," you say. "I don't have to hide."

● Eijirou turns his head and opens his eyes to meet yours. "You're beautiful, (Y/N). You really are. You have nothing to be insecure about, especially around me."

● You smile softly, caressing his cheek with your fingers and pulling him back up to your face for a kiss

● He grins and pulls away from you. "I'm glad you are, though. Comfortable, that is." He reached up to flick off the lamp

● Now plunged in total darkness, he goes back to hugging you, pulling your chest flush against his while you let him rest his chin on the top of your head

● The warmth you share is heavenly; limbs comfortably wrapped around one another

● You cuddle each other asleep, the soothing rhythms of each others' bodies lulling you both into a state of tranquility

_______________

Kaminari:

● You slide on a pair of short shorts, frowning at yourself as you study the way they make your legs look

● Finally you give up on them, turning around and jutting out your hips to check your posterior

● At least they make my butt look nice

● You were trying on some clothes you had just gotten from your recent outing with the girls to the mall; glad to finally be alone in the solace of your room so you could look ever what you’d purchased.

● Your door suddenly flew open, catching you by surprise and making you jump

● "Hey, (Y/N), do you want to—woah."

● Denki had just barged into your room, totally catching you checking yourself out in the mirror

● He hastily shuts the door, making sure no one saw you

● You bite your lip, completely aware that you were only in a tank top and shorts

● "You look great," Kaminari says, coming up to wrap his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your bare shoulder as he gazed at the two of you in the mirror

● Of course he'd fantasized about you in outfits like this before, but dang, you most certainly did not disappoint.

● "I don't know . . . ."

● The grin he had been sporting faltered. "What do you mean?"

● You squinted at your reflection as though it had done you a great personal wrong

● "Don't you think this is a little . . . much?"

● "No," he answers truthfully. "I like it." His hands start to move before he catches himself. "I'm allowed to touch you, right?"

● Your eyes widen at the idea, excitement flickering in the pit of your stomach at the thought of his hands on you. "Sure. It's fine."

● His grin returns in full force as he begins to slide his hands up your sides, wasting no time to seize your chest with both hands, feeling the weight of your breasts as he lightly bounced them in his palms

● After kneading and massaging them to his temporary content, he ran his hands back down your sides to cup your ass, moving himself back a step so he could see, giving you a light smack

● He hummed in satisfaction and spun you around, pulling you into him so your body could lay flush against his

● He guided your face to his own, pressing his lips against yours while his hands made their rounds again; rubbing your back, squeezing and caressing your butt, even trying to dip down enough to feel the smooth skin of your exposed thighs without breaking your connection

● He pulls back, his eyes shut as he whispers against your lips, "You really are beautiful, (Y/N). You should show it off a little more."

● You chuckle at his suggestion, his hands never ceasing their quest to memorize and explore every curve and angle of your body

● "Maybe not this much though, you have a point," he admitted, pausing to meet your eyes. "This is just for me, right?"

● You smirk and ruffle his hair. "It's for me too, ya dork. These are actually hella comfortable."

● Denki smirked, pressing a quick close-mouthed kiss to your lips. "Perfect," was all he said.

↞┉┉┉↠

A/N: If you want more characters (Shinsou, Midoriya, and Amajiki), feel free to check out my Wattpad (linked on my navi post), but only at your own risk (＞д＜)

Taglist: @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @xoxopam4​

[chrrispine]

for @starrynightdeancas's 3k celebration prompt: "are you going to handle the scary monster, or am I?"

wc: 650

"Jack, look! A big scary monster!" Dean said pointing to a tiny spider slowly climbing up the living room wall. Jack screeched in fear and fascination as he crawled over to it. He flapped his hands and watched the spider move towards the window.

"Dean, you shouldn't be calling it a monster in front of Jack. He should learn that it's just another living being and we can all live in harmony," Cas retorted, tilting his head in the way that said, you know I'm right.

"Yeah, yeah, they're all God's creations”. Dean rolled his eyes. “Jack, the spider is our friend,” he called over to their baby who looked back at him, smiling.

“Much better. I read that using positive words is good for babies, especially as they learn to talk,” Cas explained, picking up a stuffed animal frog and putting it away in the toy bin.

Dean crossed his arms and glanced over at Jack who was now waving at the spider. “Mmhm well what does it say about talking about actual monsters. I mean we’re going to have to tell him eventually,” he challenged, raising his eyebrows.

Cas opened his mouth to reply but then Jack screamed. Cas rushed over to him and noticed the spider had dropped down from the window sill and was hanging by a thread of webbing very close to Jack’s face.

“It’s alright, Jack, he just came down to say hello," Cas reassured him, stroking the top of his head. Cas turned to Dean with a look of concern. “This spider isn’t venomous, right?”

Dean shrugged. All spiders were bad to him, venomous or not, and he definitely couldn’t tell the difference.

“It’s looking a little too hungrily at Jack, maybe we should get rid of it,” Cas reasoned, his parenting instincts now kicking in.

“I don’t know how you can tell how it’s looking, but I agree. So, are you going to handle the scary monster? Or am I?” Dean asked nodding his head towards the window. Jack turned towards them with his eyes wide when he heard the words 'scary monster'.

“Dean…” Cas groaned at the negative words again. “I’ll handle it, because otherwise I know you’ll just smush it under your boot. Watch Jack as I go get a cup.” Cas moved towards the door.

Dean then begrudgingly got up and put his arm out in front of Cas. “Hey, stop. I’ll take care of it and I’ll do it nicely, so Jack sees that I care about the living things too.”

Cas smiled and gave Dean a kiss. “Thank you.”

Suddenly, there was a zapping sound followed by the awful smell of something burning.

“Monster all gone!" Jack shouted, clapping happily.

Dean and Cas looked in a mix of shock, horror, and amusement at the 2 inch burn mark that was now on the wall. The kid had obliterated the poor thing.

Cas sighed as Dean walked over to Jack, pulling his shirt over his nose. Jack was still clapping at his fine work.

“Uh, Jack, we don’t incinerate our friends, okay?” Dean said as he scooped Jack up.

Jack stared back at Dean and nodded like he understood. But, then he laughed and started clapping again, so the message probably didn’t stick.

Dean passed him off to Cas as they walked out of the room. “Well, maybe we should bring him along on the next hunt if that’s what he does to things we call monsters,” Dean chuckled and then quickly stopped as he caught the glare Cas gave him.

"All I have to say is that it looks like I was right about using positive language," Cas said matter-of-factly as he put Jack in his high chair. He laughed as Dean sighed in defeat and gave him a kiss.

(tag list under the cut)

tag list: @casbelieves @fivefeetfangirl @smolrowena @chocolatecakecas @starrynightdeancas @acklesology @shelikestv @sinnabonka @dea-stiel @cvsnovak @doc-cas-holligay @jellydeans @evermorecastiel @plantdadcas @manifestingdestiel @achillestiel @multi-fandom-dark-lord @agentplant @ialwaysordericedcoffee @deanwinvhester @winterfrosted @queentrxyler @halaenoor @goldiegabrielfallenangel @winchester-novak @btab66 @maxguevra @wormstacheangel @moosetex @nguyenxtrang @edward-thorn-blog-blog @feraladoration @deductthenseduct @gardenercastiel @no2891 @i-dont-even-wanna-know @chaoticwistfulness @squintingg

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[donutloverxo]

Tainted

*gifs not mine*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - this is inspired by a hc @sweater-daddiesdumbdork once wrote me and gave me a frigging murder kink. Life ruiner😡😡

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Steve saves you and plans on never letting you go again.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), kidnappings, being held hostage, murder, blood, non descriptive violence, captain kink, slight murder kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 6.8k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

One of the most amazing thing about living with you was that Steve never had to come home to an empty house. He was now responsible for you, he’d have to shoot you a text message, he had gotten pretty good at texting, thanks to your guidance, or call you, he definitely liked calling and hearing your voice better. He’ll always be old school.

You’d get that slight waver in your voice as you tried to pretend that you weren’t sad, he could see your cute little pout through the phone. And while he would never want to cause you any sort of pain, knowing that you’d be waiting for him, that you’re missing him when he’s away, made him feel wanted.

That even someone like him deserved love and happiness and a safe, boring life. That may be there was a reason he died only to wake up again in a strange new world.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t come with your own set of challenges. You were messy if anything, leaving clutter everywhere and putting off doing your dishes and laundry for days. Maybe not the most practical but definitely the cutest roommate in the world.

He’d learn to put up with it because it was worth it. Maybe, he could even learn to 'let loose' a little as people always recommended to him.

At first, he couldn’t wait to ask you to marry him. He had even impulsively bought a ring with your birthstone, he knew you were obsessed with them and astrology and maybe even dark magic. But then you surprised him with a date to an old diner and introduced him as your boyfriend to your friends.

He liked your friends quite a lot, he couldn’t really understand what they were talking about half the time. From what he could tell - by their fascination with his muscles and all the touching and squeezing to his biceps, them wanting to hear about his life before the ice - it seemed that they liked him too.

But hearing you call him that, your guy, your boyfriend, your beau, as your friend Stacey had put it, he decided that he wasn’t quite ready to let go of this blissful courting period. He was rushing things.

He needed to live in the moment and just enjoy being your boyfriend for now, he had all the time in the world to wife you up - preferably not to late though.

He was so unbelievably happy, ecstatic to see you, to surprise you, his mission ending a week early he got home as soon as he could. He thought of maybe taking you to Vermont for the weekend, he had never been but Nat told him it’d be a nice little getaway and that you’d love it.

His wide smile slowly fade away as he looked at the state of his door - the latch broken. Forced entry. Somebody broke his door in. He pushed the door wide open and made his way in.

He knew what was to come next but he willed that thought away. Maybe you kicked it in yourself, maybe you forgot your keys. He kept telling himself that because he was terrified of thinking the alternative.

He stepped in as soon as he was able to shake himself out of his haze. Looking at the state of his, and your, apartment. A broken vase, and the coffee table smashed in.

Crouching down to take a closer look he saw some blood on the ceramic. Whoever did this to your home, better hope that it’s wasn’t yours.

He got up, directing his simmering rage towards his new mission. He didn’t panic, not yet, he couldn’t give himself that kind of luxury. His mind coming up with ten different to find you and make the bastards who did this pay.

NOBody can hurt the people he loves, especially his girl, and get away with it.

***

Your eyes fluttered open before scrunching shut to adjust to the harsh fluorescent light. You blinked, looking around you while squinting.

Some sort of empty grey room... a window to the side but it was dark outside. You dress sticking to your skin as your whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Three men in a corner, one for them shouting at the others in a foreign language.

You felt a yip of pain radiating in your arms and then realised they were tied up behind you - strapped to a creaky chair.

You tried to shake free of them, by wiggling your wrists but then winced at the burn it caused, capturing the attention of your kidnappers.

One of them smiled at you, walking towards you.

“Finally awake, are we?” he asked in an abnormally chirpy way. “You were out for quiet some time. Did you sleep well?”

He squatted before you, you could see his face, his cold grey eyes betraying the warm smile that graced his lips. Many white scars littered over his jaw...

And then you remembered.

How you rushed home when you felt someone was following you. Locking the door, you tried to call Steve but couldn’t get through to him.

And then your stalker broke into your home. You tried to smash his head in with a vase but couldn’t really do any real damage. Everything was hazy after that. Maybe he drugged you - you couldn’t recall.

You exhaled shakily when you realised he was watching you both from the corner. You could never forget his dark hoodie and hair. Or fresh cut on his forehead. You had never so much as hurt a fly or even slapped anyone. How you managed to smash his head in you’ll never know.

You looked at the man before you again when you heard him calling out your name, his smile haltered for a moment as he looked back to your stalker.

“I’m sorry about that, he’s a rookie. He’ll be reprimanded soon enough. This wasn’t exactly our plan but we’ve decided to improvise.”

You tried to speak but with your throat and mouth dry and your mind in shock the words wouldn’t come out.

“Oh, that’s alright, don’t struggle. We don’t want anything to do with you, you’re just a normal plain Jane going about your life, aren’t you?”

You could only give him a weak nod, still trying your best to shake yourself free of your bounds without him noticing.

“That’s right. You haven’t done anything wrong, you don’t deserve to have anything bad happen to you, do you?”

You nodded again. Your breath hitched when he got closer to you, in your face, his hands planted on your bare thighs with your skirt pooled just below your hips.

“But we don’t always get what we deserve. You’re close to the Captain, that’s right Michael’s told me all about how taken he is with you. I mean... I never would’ve imagined Captain America would pick someone like you but to each their own,” he cupped your cheek, the cracks in his palm harsh against your soft skin.

“What do you want?” you asked, not looking away from him.

“I want justice. For things to be in the right order. You’ll have to suffer for it, but know that it’s for a good cause.”

“You’re wrong,” you shook your head, “he’ll come for me.”

“We’re counting on that,” he snickered.

You’re not sure what came over you, all you knew was that you wanted his disgusting hands off of you, “He’ll come for me, and then you’ll regret ever touching me.”

“Uh, I don’t know about this,” you pulled on a thread from your skirt with your right hand, your other hand in Steve’s as he held onto your waist, pulling you into his side. “It’ll be inside me?” you shuddered.

“Yes, but,” Bruce scratched his head, he was adorable like that. You never would’ve imagined him to be the hulk, a 'rage monster’. “it’s not as bad as you think. You won’t even feel it. All shield agents and Avengers have one. Except Thor, because that wouldn’t be of any use. The radius is only on earths surface. You would’ve thought that would be enough,” he chuckled.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, looking at the chip, smaller than an acrylic nail, watching Bruce load it up.

“I know it’s not ideal, doll. But I’ll feel much better knowing I can find you, in case something goes wrong.” He kissed your temple, as you braced yourself.

“Will it hurt?” you gulped as Bruce lined the shooter or gun, by the looks of it, to your forearm.

“Just a little. You’ll barely feel it.” He gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Look at me, pup,” Steve gripped your chin, moving your head till you looked into his blue eyes, he pressed his lips to yours, massaging your tongue with his to distract you.

“Mm,” you winced and moaned into his mouth when you felt the piercing pain. It was like getting a flu shot but you had never having been a huge fan of needles either.

He released his hold on you as Bruce worked on cleaning your the blood seeping through your pierced skin. “You did good.” Steve said.

“Do I get a sucker?” You asked Bruce and he chuckled - as if you were joking, you do not joke about candy, “No I really want one.”

“Let’s keep this between us.” Steve told you both.

“Of course,” Bruce nodded, “I can keep tracker dormant till we need it but are you sure?”

“I’m not sure who I can trust.” But he knew he could trust his teammates.

You sniffled, keeping your tears at bay because really something so little shouldn’t make you cry, rubbing your hand over your wounded bicep as Bruce handed you some gummy bears.

“They’re Tony’s. He leaves snacks everywhere, it’s annoying.”

“Thank you.” You blinked up at him and offered some to Steve.

You never thought you’d need it. Until now, you were sure your friends or your mother would notice that you’ve been gone and Steve will find out and track you down. You knew he would. He had to.

He frowned, his nails digging into your cheekbones, pluckering your lips, “Where’s all that confidence coming from?” he quirked a curious brow up, “He’ll walk right in and pay for everything he’s done,” he snorted.

“You’re way underprepared to take someone like him on,” shut up, shut up, shut up, why the fuck are you egging him on? “He’s strong, he’s a survivor.” Even without the serum, he survived an abusive household, being bullied, being sick, and you knew how protective he could be. To the point where it was downright irritating.

“We’ve got all the time in the world to prepare, you should be worrying about yourself,” he spat.

You had always been bold, even in the most inappropriate of situations. Like when you lectured a boy for over an hour on respecting boundaries for throwing spitballs at you, in kindergarten. Steve even said that he fell for that ‘spunk' in you.

‘Well-behaved women rarely make history’ your mother had told you.

And really, you liked that about yourself as well. You liked that you found a man that would encourage that side of you instead of calling you ‘difficult’ or ‘bossy’.

However, you immediately regretted everything you had said. Not because it was untrue, but because your captor took out a sharp pocket knife, a dark glint in his eyes.

“We only need you alive,” he said as you gulped, “I suppose, it wouldn’t matter if you’re missing a finger or two.”

You frantically shook your head, choking on a sob. “No,” you pleaded, “you’ll... he will find me and you will - ”

“Go to prison at best. It’s a risk we’re all willing to take,” he put the blunt end of the knife against your cheek, “We have to do something to kill the time.”

You couldn’t breath, your heart hammering in your chest, what if he doesn’t come for you? You won’t be able to do anything about it. It wasn’t like you could protect yourself, at least in this situation, all you could do was wait for him.

You shut your eyes, and braced yourself for the pain. Except... it never came, you simply heard someone fall down, some sort of clattering sound.

Upon opening your eyes you saw one of his friends face down before your in the corner, the other guy, your lovely stalker, drawing out his gun, looking at the only window to your left. You swore you a saw a glimpse of a flying disk knocking your stalker out.

The man before you cursed under his breath, “Get. Up. Come on!” he ordered.

“Yeah, if I could do that I probably would’ve,” you snarked, still trying to get your aching wrists free.

You barely even registered - who could only be your Captain - sneaking up behind him, snapping his neck with his hands in a matter of seconds. He collapsed on the ground and you could finally see Steve.

His clenched jaw and cold eyes softened up on seeing you, you couldn’t help but let out a sob as you realised you were going to be free.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he soothed you, kissing your forehead before swiftly free your hands.

You stood up on wobbly legs, holding onto his arms for support, “Steve,” you breathed out, “you came for me.”

“Of course I did,” he sighed, gently pushing your face against his chest as he hugged you close to him. “As if I’d ever abandon you,” he smoothed a hand over your back and decided to not dwell on your comment. This wasn’t about him, you were in shock.

“I was so scared,” you sniffled, “he said, he - ” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you broke down in a fit of sobs and hiccups.

“You’re safe now,” he promised.

“You - did you kill him?” you pushed away from him to look up at his face so you could take him in.

You had never seen him in his uniform. Only ever seeing him on the news but he had his cowl on and a suit that was much more on brand for ‘Captain America’ than the darker one he had on now. It made him look bigger - if that was even possible. Bigger than the shield now strapped to his back.

His usually clean shaven face had the faintest shadow to it while his hair was slicked back. He looked beautiful, so soft and innocent, definitely not someone who’s capable of hurting anyone.

“He hurt you,” he replied, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised wrists, “and so many others, he got what was coming to him.”

“You knew him?”

“Yes. He got away the last time we tried to catch him - but we don’t have to talk about that right now. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m just thirsty and I really want to lay down,” you murmured, resting your head on the star in the middle of his chest.

He pressed a hand to his ear, letting his team know that he had found you. You vaguely saw agents clad in black gear storm the room.

“We did a sweep of the place. No one else is here,” Natasha said. “How you doing?” and then frowned when you didn’t respond.

“She’s tired. It’s okay, love,” he kissed your temple, snaking a hand under your knees and picking you up with ease.

You weakly nodded, wrapping your hands around his neck, glad to be babied by him because you didn’t have the strength to stand.

“They didn’t give you anything to eat?” Nat scoffed as you shook your head.

“How long have I been here?” you looked at Steve, struggling to stay awake.

“A day and a half. We’ll get you fixed up,” he swore, carrying you towards the quinget.

“Where are we?” you nuzzled your nose against the rough kevlar of his suit.

“Bermuda,” he said.

“Oo, I’ve always wanted to come here... just maybe not like this,” you chuckled but Steve didn’t find it all that amusing. You cupped his cheek in your palm, hoping to maybe calm him down a bit before falling asleep.

***

You vaguely heard a familiar voice calling out your name, you’d recognise it anywhere, it was one of your favorites, one you’d known your entire life.

“Mom?” you muttered, opening your eyes and looking around the room to look for her. You smiled when you saw her sitting on a chair just beside your bed, the faint, annoying beeping told you that you were probably in a hospital.

“Hey there, honey,” she smiled back at you, her eyes misty as she pressed her lips to your cheek. “Do you have any idea how much you scared me?”

“I’m sorry,” you tried to sit up as she fluffed your pillow up to support you. “I was... um... kidnapped.” Saying it out loud made it feel so ridiculous. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought.

“Yes, Steve filled us in on everything. So, Captain America, huh?” she raised her brows.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously. Doing a once over to your large, mostly white room to look for him. He wouldn’t just up and leave you, would he?

“How long has it been going on?” she asked.

“Um, three or four months?” you winced when you realised just how much trouble you were in.

“And, you live with him. Linda filled us in on everything. You’re quitting your job too now.”

“It’s - it’s not as bad as it sounds...”

“Never mind that, you need to rest. Then you won’t have to worry about all this. I’m taking you home with me. And you’re never coming back here again.”

“What? No! I still have over two years of school left.”

“You can do it online! You can find just as a good a job in Queens.”

“No! I’m not coming,” you whined.

“Well, you’re not living with a man you barely know either.”

You were interrupted by a knock on the door. A doctor entering, apologising for disturbing you and Steve right behind her. He still hadn’t changed out of his suit.

He stood at the end of your bed, squeezing your foot to let you know he was there for you as your mother glared daggers at him.

“Looks like you’re doing good. Blood sugars back to normal as well...” the doctor said, “You’re free to go home.”

“Really?” you smiled. So done with everything. Sleeping in your own bed sounded like heaven.

“Yes, let us know if you need anything.” She looked over your chart again and then left.

“Good then, you can come home now.”

“No! I’m going to my apartment in Manhattan, the one I share with Steve.” You rolled your eyes. Pleading Steve to back you up with your eyes.

He cleared his throat, “Um, ma'am, you can come stay with us, if you like.”

He held your mothers gaze, to let her know that he was serious and earnest.

He knew he wasn’t perfect by any means. He had a million flaws and cuts that ran deeper than anybody would ever know but he always thought, or maybe arrogantly assumed, that if nothing else he was someone ‘you take home to mama’ as Clint had once put it. He thought that your parents, like most, would like him. That he’d easily get their blessing to be with their daughter. He was known to be America’s golden boy after all.

But your mother had ripped him a new one as soon as she saw him. Accusing him of abusing his power to woo you. That you were here because of him. That he’s not worthy of you.

And all he could do was stand there and take it because everything she had said was the truth. He didn’t deserve you, you were captured and possibly traumatised because of him.

At the same time, he couldn’t just let you go. Not till he gets to the bottom of who had hurt you and makes sure that you’re safe from now on.

“No, thank you.” She scoffed, looking back at you and shaking her head. “What are you doing with your life?”

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes but being with Steve definitely isn’t one,” you looked over to him, he looked just as tired as you, “I just want to go home. My home with Steve.”

“Fine, I’ve always let you make your own decisions.” she sighed, finally giving in.

“And I’ve never disappointed you.”

“That’s debatable,” she snorted, “I’ll come check on you tomorrow then. Maybe send me your address. You know? Something you should’ve done months ago.” She returned to glaring at Steve.

“I’ve only been living with him for a month!” you tried to defend yourself.

***

“I can take off my own clothes, Stevie,” you giggled, him kneeling before you to help you out of the sweets the med bay gave you. Your dress was dirty and ragged now. “I really liked that dress though. I don’t have many like it. You think we can get it back?”

“Maybe, I’ll see what I can do, doll,” he kissed your bare thigh before rolling your panties down your legs.

“You’re kinda dirty too,” you remarked, sniffing him. He didn’t smell bad, as if Steve would ever smell bad to you. Just a bit of gunpowder, like that of firecrackers, a bit pungent instead of his normal piney and woodsy scent.

“Thank you,” he deadpanned before cracking a smile, “I was just excited to see you. Or I would’ve showered before coming home and then I didn’t get a chance to.”

He worked on unbuttoning your shirt He insisted on you getting a button up instead of a t-shirt considering how sore your arms were from being toed up for so long. Tied up... like an animal.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, caressing his cheek, “come back to me.”

“Sorry, I’m just... I don’t know,” he shook his head. He couldn’t let you know the guilt and despair he felt, you’d end up comforting him instead of the other way around. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Yeah. Still can’t believe any of this was real.” Running your hands up and down his suit, the feel of the material almost soothing to touch. “You wanna shower with me?”

“Don’t know, doll. That showers pretty small.”

He did have a pretty generous salary but opted to live in a more modest apartment, he never took more than he needed anyway, with a small shower. Not too small, but definitely not big enough for you both.

“We’ll make do, come on. I’ll make you squeaky clean.”

He took over ten minutes to get rid of the suit. You watched intently as he removed more latches than you could count.

“Is it bulletproof?” you wanted to know.

“Yes. But probably not as good as a vest. I’ve never been shot so I wouldn’t know.” He answered, taking off his undershirt.

“It’s funny because I always thought y’all were naked under there,” you chuckled, and then your jaw dropped as he took off his briefs.

You had never seen his cock while it was soft before. He was always more than excited when you got to him. It was amazing how pretty he looked either way.

“You and so many other people,” he almost shuddered at the thought of having been asked the same question so many times.

After making sure the water was hot enough, you both stood under it.

You took some of the lavender wash you had bought from lush, squeezing it on your sponge. Steve, bless him, was amazing at so many things. Shopping - it seemed was not one of them. All he had in his bathroom was a bar of soap, one toothbrush and a vintage straight razor.

Which just won’t do for you, so you took it upon yourself to stock the whole place up with your favorite stuff. The lavender being Steve’s favorite, you remembered how flustered you got when he told you that you smelled good. And then tried to explain that you always smell good while turning redder than a tomato.

You did his front, asking him to bent his neck a bit so you could wash his hair because he was almost a foot taller than you. You were about to do his legs, you’d take any excuse to feel up his thick thighs but he told you he’d do the rest himself.

Taking the sponge from you, he ran it under some water, working on cleaning you thoroughly. Under your arms, your breasts, your stomach, between your legs and then your legs.

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - he knew that since the moment he had met you. But something about washing you up like that felt so intimate even though there was nothing erotic about it.

After washing you thoroughly he wrapped you up in a towel, “My cute lil' burrito,” he booped your nose.

You puffed your cheeks out, you weren’t sure if you liked that nickname. Observing just how gentle he was with you, helping you into a cotton nightie, as opposed to drying himself off hastily and carelessly before pulling some sweats and briefs on.

“Don’t wear a shirt,” you pleaded, he looked amazing shirtless, but that wasn’t the only reason, you really liked feeling his skin on hours, pressing kissing on his perfect, smooth, golden skin, ”pretty please.” Right now, he’d give you anything you wanted and you intended on milking that as much as you can.

“Alright, doll,” he replied, pulling you up in his arms again as if you were his bride, as you giggled so sweetly, “now, what would you like to eat? No take out, it has to be healthy. And remember my culinary skills are limited,” he said, carrying you to the living room and putting you on the couch as he started working in the kitchen.

“Stevie, I’m not hungry. Well, that’s not true, I’d like some ice cream,” fluttering your lashes at him, “Mint chocolate chip? I’m pretty sure we have some.”

“Of course, puppy,” you smiled, at the prospect of getting a sweet treat and the nickname, “as soon as you eat something.” He added and you huffed in annoyance.

He whipped up a sandwich for you, two for him because he was starving, some peach iced tea so you wouldn’t eat his ear off while complaining.

You only picked at your food, giving more than half of it to him. You truly didn’t feel like eating, instead craving some cuddles with him.

You tried striking up a conversation with him multiple times. Not because you didn’t like silence. You did when it came to him, you could go hours without talking and it would feel so serene and perfect. You never had to talk just for the sake of it when you were with him.

But you had come to read Steve pretty well. He seemed distant and closed off. The air around you both thick with tension. You tried to ease it while telling him about how brave you were while quitting and didn’t cry at all, how Tony dropped by and was apparently stalking you - which was a bad idea because it seemed to make him angry, clench his jaw tight, his brows furrowed as he placed your plates in the sink.

Unsure if you had done something wrong or were mean to Tony, who was technically his boss, you twiddled with your fingers, “Um... I - I’m sorry,” you stuttered, trying to hold back tears. Spending the night at your mom’s house sounded like the better choice now.

“Hm?” he looked back at you, he could do the dishes tomorrow, “what for?”

“I shouldn’t have been snarky with Tony. I know he’s your boss and all that but he’s kinda cocky... And I got really mad when I found out he did like a ‘background check' on me. I mean I get why he would but still. I can apologize to him.”

“No no,” he shook his head, kneeling before you, taking your hands in his, “you misunderstood, love. I’m not mad at you, I could never REALLY be mad at you. It’s Tony I’m angry with, he went behind my back, ambushed you at work.”

“To be fair, you did the same when you asked me out,” you snickered as a blush crept up his neck.

“Right.” He finally cracked a genuine smile placing feather light kisses on your knuckles and the to the bandages on your hands.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you asked, running your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails.

“It’s probably better if we don’t talk about it,” he said, laying his head on your lap. Your slight scratching massaging his never-resting head.

“I think we should. My mom said I don’t know you. And to some extent, she is right. I don’t. Maybe I’m just imagining things but... sometimes it feels like you’re holding back.”

He gathered enough courage to look up at you, your almond shaped eyes looking down at his and he knew that he could talk to you about anything. He did. But there will always be that little voice that tells him that he shouldn’t. He would only trouble you.

“Don’t you pride yourself on being honest?” you caressed his scratchy cheek.

He snorted. He really was dense enough to think he was the perfect son-in-law package.

“I just, the way you looked at me, when I killed that man, I’m afraid that you’re scared of me now. That’s the last thing I want. It’s my worst nightmare really.” He leant into your touch.

“Steve, that wasn’t because I’m scare of you. It was because I’m fond of you. You were so strong and brave and you saved me. I liked being the damsel in distress more than I thought,” He chuckled at that, his doubts a bit relieved, “that’s... not all though.” You murmured.

“What is it?” he wanted to know.

“You, um, the fact that you would do that for me... it’s just. I never thought anyone would love me that much.”

“I only regret doing it in front of you. I’m sorry you had to see that or go through any of that.”

“I’m not a child, Steve,” you rolled your eyes.

“Of course not, but you’re you. You’re pure and an angel. I - I’m tainted - tainted by blood, tainted by war - ”

“Steve, that’s not true. You’re not, you’re the pure-est person I know. War and - that doesn’t define you.”

“You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew about all the things I have done, sweetheart.” The sweet nickname he had for you, which now he used in a patronising tone, “I let my best friend die. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“What’re you talking about?” you frowned. You heard about Bucky from him and your history textbooks but you don’t remember reading anything like that.

“It’s... something I’m not ready to get into.” He put his forehead on your knee. He knew you loved him but there was only so much baggage you would be willing to accept.

“Okay. You can take your time and tell me if and when you’re ready, baby.” You went back to idly playing with his, “But I need you to know that I love you. Nothing you could ever say will change that. To think that... for a second I thought that you wouldn’t come for me.”

He snapped his head back up, “What?”

“I thought, that you’d be busy with your mission. You wouldn’t even find out I was missing or... you just wouldn’t care enough to come yourself. I mean, I knew you would come, obviously. But you have other more important work...”

“No,” he shook his head, “How could you ever think anything's more important to me than you and your life?”

“Yeah, I was being stupid.”

“You can be a bit silly sometimes, doll.” He nuzzled your tummy, making you giggle. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I was so scared I’d never see you again,” he confessed against your nightgown.

“That’d be a bit hard to do. Keeping an eye on me like that. But if it means I get to spend more time with you then I’m down.”

You convinced Steve to let you have some ice cream. He only let you have half a scope, telling you that you’d have trouble sleeping otherwise.

“I’ve been sleeping for most of the last two days.” You tried to argue but it was hard to change his mind once he had it set on something.

You both brushed your teeth together and he stared at you as you went about your night-time skincare routine.

Cleanse, serum, moisturize, sleep mask.

All he did was wash his face and he still looked fucking perfect.

He stayed true to his word, sticking by your side to the point where you had to kick him outside to have some privacy to pee in peace. He was right there waiting for you when you opened the door.

Finally, you were in your cosy bed. Light’s off and cuddled tight with your boyfriend. Your stuffed unicorn and your Captain America plushie to your other side.

With your legs tangled together, you rubbed your feet up and down his legs. Which were unfortunately covered with his sweats.

“Steve,” you whined.

“Yes?”

“Take off these damn pants. They’re hurting my skin. So friggin' prickly.”

“Sorry, doll. I know how precious your skin is.” He sounded like he was mocking you but he followed, pushing his pants away.

“Good?” he asked holding you close to him again.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed against his naked chest. “Let’s sleep like this everyday, please.”

“Sure.” He replied. He liked being a ‘human furnace' for you.

He wasn’t going to fall asleep. Not after everything that happened. He hadn’t slept well in the past week but he was afraid that if he’d shut his eyes for a single moment and you’d be gone. This time, he wouldn’t be lucky enough to find you.

He hadn’t been to crunch or even prayed in a while. Losing his faith a long time ago after all the terrible things he had seen. But he had prayed when he came back found his home to be wreck. He prayed that you’d come back to him because there were some things he just could not control. Nobody could.

After a while he lowly whispered your name. “Are you awake?” he asked.

It was silly but he missed you. Even though you were laying right next to him in his arms - the safest place you could be.

“Yeah. I can’t sleep. Even though I’m so tired.” You yawned. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” You snorted. “You’re not a good liar, Steven.”

“Can I ask you something? And you can say no if you want I won’t mind.”

“Sure, shoot.”

“Can I, um, have you? I just need to feel you, sweetheart. After everything – I need to know you’re really here.” he was cut off by your lips crashing on his.

You winced when your teeth clamped together but he soothed your upper lip by nipping at it with his tongue.

“Steve,” you panted as he broke awake, shifting under the sheets and pushing the helm of your gown up.

He placed quick open mouthed kisses all over your thighs, over your stretch marks, spreading your thighs further to accommodate his broad shoulders, he made sure to check in with you again.

All you did was push his head towards your heat, begging him to eat your pussy - as if he needed to be told twice.

Swirling and spreading your glistening juices of arousal around your weeping lips, he dove in for his prize. Drawing patterns on your bundle of nerves before sucking at it harshly, he plunged his tongue inside. Lacing his fingers with yours and pinning your hands down by your hips.

You kept desperately pushing your hips up, wanting more. Arching your back up and holding onto his hands tightly as he lightly grazed his teeth over your clit.

“Say my name, sweetheart,” he demanded against your heat, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

Your orgasm washing over you in waves, electrifying every nerve in your body as you clamped your legs around his head, holding onto him.

He kept lapping you up through it, taking everything you’d give him.

He loved worshipping you - spending as much time as he could between your legs - because you were his goddess but right now, he just needed to feel you.

He climbed up the bed, hovering over you, he pushed two thick fingers inside you mouth till the second knuckle.

“Get them nice and wet, doll.” He instructed.

You moaned around him, making loud suckling noises, “Yesh, Captain,” it came out muffled, what with your mouth full.

“Captain?” he smirked. You had only ever called him that as a joke, he never knew being called that in a salacious way could stroke a fire inside him. Making him them painfully hard in the confines of his tight briefs. He pulled his fingers out of you, pushing his hand down till it was between your legs. Nudging your entrance with them.

“Sorry, it slipped out.” You were too unabashed to feel guilty. 

He scoffed, “Say it again.” 

Pushing his fingers inside you. Pumping them at a fast pace before you even had a second to think. It was desperate and fast so unlike how it is usually between you both. He needed to be inside you but your needs would always come before his. 

“Captain,” you mewled, chewing on your lower lip and holding onto his face. You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you still need to look at him. “I told them my Captain would come for me. And you did...” he swallowed your screams with his mouth as you clenched around his fingers. 

“That’s right,” he groaned, sucking your slick off of his fingers, “I’ll always protect you. I’ll do anything for you.” 

Shaky fingers working on taking his cock out of the hard confines of his uncomfortable underwear. He didn’t waste a single second before sinking inside you, as deep as he could. He moaned into your neck, “So fucking tight, doll. Like you were made for me,” he bit your neck. 

Drawing his hips back he thrusted inside you, brushing against your g-spot, making you keen. 

He stopped immediately, propping himself up on his elbows he looked down at your hooded eyes. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, “Yes, it’s just so good,” as if to prove it you clenched around his length, to make him feel all of you just as he was doing to you. 

He groaned at that, his balls already tightening, aching for release, “What’s the safe word?” 

“Mm... buttercream.”

“That’s right, good girl,” he cooed as you whimpered at his praise as he withdrew his hips again, loving you in a slow soft way. 

Pushing your gown up till it was above your breasts - he didn’t really have the patience to properly take it off. He sucked a spot just above your breast, so you’d remember his love every time you looked at it. Your nipples pebbled and goose bumps painted your skin, with your cunt tight around him he knew you were close. 

Wrapping his mouth around one bud, He pulled and pinched at the other. He stopped his ministrations, he needed to look at you as you climaxed. To know that you needed him at least half as much as he needed you. 

Your face scrunched up as you met your bliss, your nails drawing blood from shoulders - not that he cared in the slightest. 

His hips retracting and thrusting as he lost all sense of rhythm and finesse chasing his end as you laid boneless beneath him. He kept fucking into you, filling you to the brim. 

He heaved above you, making sure not to collapse on top of you. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of you. 

Pulling you close to him, his lips pressed up against the crown of your head, he whispered sweet nothings to you. “My brave girl.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “You’re so strong, sweetheart.”

“Stronger than the hulk?”

“Yes, definitely,” he replied, tracing the bandages wrapped around your wrists. “Now try to get some sleep.”

“Oh, I’ll sleep alright. Thanks to you.” You giggled. 

***

tags will be in the reblog.

this was my longest fic!i know it wasnt the best conclusion to something i drew outover 4 chapters but its the best i could do. sorry for weird format tumblrs mad i had too much fun lol. comments and reblogs are really appreciated!!

[nerdypanda3126]

Playing with Fire – Ch. 8

So two things: first, I did write a little interlude between last chapter and this one, and you can find it here.

And second, in the part with Luka's journal, he's in a dark place at that point in his life and there's some suicidal ideation in there. If you'd prefer to skip over it, you can jump over the italicized parts, and as far as I know that's the only time it'll pop up in this story 💖

Read on Ao3 

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“You want to find my family?” Luka asked incredulously as he held a branch aside for her to walk past. 

He was tired, and so was she; they’d been walking all night, but Luka had insisted they needed to put as much distance as they could between them and the tower while they still had the cover of darkness. By the time the sunlight was able to filter down to them through the canopy, she suspected it was closer to mid-afternoon and they’d been up for a full twenty-four hours. He’d been stuck in his mostly-human form for the longest he’d ever had to endure it. Maybe not an ideal time to bring up her plan, but…  

“We’re already running for our lives, we don’t have a home to go back to, at least not for a while, so… While we’re out wandering anyways, I thought…” 

“We’d lead an angry mob straight to my mother and sister?” 

She rolled her eyes at him. Definitely not the best time to bring up her plan. “You’re cranky when you’re tired,” she noted, letting her own irritation slip into her tone. He grunted back, but it was more of a challenge than an assent. 

“Besides,” she pushed on, ignoring the way he bristled, “it might take a while to find them. How long do you think the townspeople will follow us, anyways? My guess is they get to the tower, see it’s empty, and turn around and go home.” 

“I’m not worried about them,” he grumbled. “There’s a certain friend of yours who didn’t seem ready to give up anytime soon.” 

If he had venom, he’d injected it into the word “friend.” She winced at his bitter tone. 

“Okay, so what’s your plan? We wander the wilds aimlessly chasing our tails for the rest of our lives?” 

He faltered and glanced over at her. The way he seemed so unsure made her realize he’d never had a plan. At least not past “stay alive and wait.” This was all new to him; he didn’t know what he was doing or where he was going. They’d traveled in as much of a straight line as was possible away from the tower, but other than that… he was lost. 

She drew closer to him and threaded her arm through his as an apology. He laid a hand over hers as he took her meaning and sighed. 

“Where would we even start?” he asked, his voice small in the quiet of the forest around them. 

“There have to be other towns nearby, and I’m sure someone would remember seeing dragons flying around 18 years ago.” 

“More townspeople…” he grumbled again. “Great.” 

She squeezed his arm in sympathy and they walked in silence for a while. She could feel the weight of the plan starting to fall on his shoulders, the idea of asking around, relying on humans, how long it might take. In truth, she hadn’t realized the enormity of the undertaking until she’d proposed it to him and now she could agree that it sounded impossible. 

“Maybe they’ve been waiting for you, too,” she dared to say. 

He let out a quiet laugh. “Ma wouldn’t, her treasure is the open skies and she wouldn’t wait for anyone.” He paused to think, then sighed. “Juleka might, though.” 

“Your sister?” 

“Mhmm. We were close when we were young. Before…” His eyes slid over to her and he let it drop. “She might’ve followed Ma at first, but I’m sure she wasn’t happy with the decision to leave me behind.” 

“What’s she look like?” Marinette asked, her curiosity overtaking her. He’d never talked about it before, but for once he seemed open to the topic. He smiled wistfully as he tried to remember. 

“A lot like me, I guess. Except, you know…not...” He gestured to himself, to his human form. “Unless she made the same mistake, but I doubt Ma would’ve let that happen again. And she’s taller than me, or at least she was when we were little. Maybe it’s changed a bit, but she was always kind of a lanky thing. Ma’s pride and joy, though, if I’m honest. It’s her fire. Most dragons have some variant of red; it’s rare enough to get blue fire, but Jules…” He shook his head, that wistful smile growing as he remembered. “Jules had violet fire. Unheard of, really. You’ll see when you meet her, she’s—” He caught himself then as he realized what he’d said. “If, I guess,” he amended quietly. 

She squeezed his arm again and smiled over at him. “When,” she agreed. “When I meet her.” 

He half-shrugged, but his smile warmed when he looked over at her. Before she could stop it, she yawned loudly and he laughed as one took him over, too. 

“First things first,” he said when it subsided, looking around at their surroundings. “We need to find a place to camp.” 

***

Later that evening they found a cave. 

Marinette had laughed a little at the prospect. Dragons, caves, towers, curses. Her life was sounding more and more like a fairytale turned inside out. Wasn’t there supposed to be a shining knight that rescued the damsel in distress from the terrible, fire-breathing dragon? 

But she didn’t feel very “in distress” as Luka joined hands with her to remove his stone and sighed with relief when his transformation took hold. She didn’t feel very in distress as he blew a small ring of fire into the floor of the cave, patting it down as he went to create a smooth, warm, bowl-shaped indent for them to curl up in together. And the only distress she felt as she tucked herself into his coils was her racing heart and trembling hands as the kiss they'd shared came back to her. He blinked up at her, sensing her hesitation, and uncurled a bit as if he intended to stand. 

She shook her head and laid her hand on his back, reassuring him, then took a moment to run her fingers over his scales, admiring them in their full splendor. Even though they were pitch black, they caught the bare light of the cave and glinted back at her like he was wearing a solid coat of jewels. They turned softer towards his belly, finer, more like the scales of a snake that she was used to as opposed to the armor he wore on top. 

As she continued to touch him, he let out that noise again, a small satisfied hum, and laid his head over his claws as he closed his eyes. 

His wings fascinated her. There was a solid joint of muscle on each side where they met his shoulders, as thick as both her fists put together, but the wings themselves seemed so fragile—she could see her hand through the delicate skin stretched thin between the bones. And yet they were able to hold not only his weight but hers, too. 

She felt it when she hit that sensitive spot that had made him ticklish before. Something like a chuckle rumbled through him and his wing flinched away from her reflexively, but he didn’t pull it out of her hands. That spot was along the side of the bone she’d been tracing, the longer one that nestled into his side when they were furled. She did it again out of curiosity and a shiver ran through him. 

She tried to remember what she’d read about dragon anatomy. But instead she was imagining how it must feel to him. Maybe something like if she were tracing the ridge of his shoulder blade when he was human. 

When she looked back at him, his eyes were still closed, like he was pretending to be asleep. She knew better, though; his breathing was uneven. As much as he was trying to hide it, he was hyper focused on her every move. 

She let her hand trail down his arm until she found one of his huge, rough hands. She picked it up despite his small grumble as his head shifted, and marveled at the largeness of it. The pad of what would be his palm was as big as her face, and the curved ebony claws reminded her so much of the hawks she’d seen in her life that she knew they were deadly. But his were each as long as her entire hand. 

As she set his hand back down, he opened an eye to look at her. She watched the slit of his pupil as it dilated to capture as much light as it could in the gloom of the cave. And the fiery blue that surrounded it was the same as the tuft of hair along his neck and at the tip of his tail. 

She should be frightened. Luka in this form was danger personified. Everything about him should have made her adrenaline spike. Should have made her want to run away or try to fight for her life. 

But as he blinked at her again, probably trying to understand what she was thinking, all she saw was… Luka. The same soul who had promised her mother he would take care of her, who had offered his life to her, who had saved her when she was too small to even know to be afraid. 

No wonder she’d still had dreams of sleeping curled up next to him. When she looked at him, at all of him, all she saw was safety and home. And as he tucked his wing around her like a blanket, she couldn’t imagine a safer place than right next to him. 

***

She grumbled awake when the light hit her eyes the next morning. She’d have to talk to him about getting curtains or something to cover that damn opening while they slept. She curled away from it, trying to press her face into Luka’s scales, but her nose was hitting something warm, and breathing, and...smoother than she expected. 

Her eyes flew open as she realized her lips had touched skin. 

It was later than normal and they’d already switched. Luka was human beside her. His arm was draped around her waist, she was curled up against his chest, and she had just nuzzled into his neck and brushed her lips against the hollow of his throat. She froze, but he was still solidly out, snoring lightly every so often, his arm a heavy weight around her. 

The night before rushed back to her. Fleeing the tower, their long walk, the cave they’d settled into for the night… and Luka. His dark hair was falling over his eyes, and those dark circles had returned after only one night of missed sleep. His lips were parted slightly as he breathed and he looked so peaceful she almost wanted to reach out and touch him if only to make sure he was real.

But she didn’t want to wake him. So as carefully as she could she extracted herself from his embrace and stood to stretch, realizing that all their walking from the past few days had caught up to her. Before she did anything else, she retrieved his stone from where he’d left it and slipped it around his neck so her flames didn’t attract any attention. Or worse, set anything in their temporary shelter aflame. 

They’d need to find food and water, but exploring their new area would have to wait until Luka woke up. For now she settled on taking inventory of what they’d brought with them, munching on a piece of bread from her parents’ bakery as she did. She froze when his lyre fell out, making an awful twang against the cave floor, but Luka only muttered in his sleep and rolled over. 

When she continued searching through the bags, her fingers caught on the leather of his journal. Another glance at Luka proved that he wouldn’t be awake for a while yet; losing sleep as they traveled had hit him harder than her. She walked as close to the entrance of their cave as she dared and sat in the light to read. 

The first few pages were mostly unintelligible. Scribbles and squiggles as Luka struggled with the quill and ink. Then came pages of the alphabet, unsteady at first, and traced over what must’ve been Jagged’s handwriting. The letters got stronger, more confident, and then on the next page, his first written word. Just his name, but she could almost see the pride he must’ve felt in accomplishing that one word. It stood alone on the page. She imagined a young Luka running out to show Jagged his hard work, beaming with the joy of learning a new skill. 

Then other words started to fill the pages. Jagged Stone, fire, bond, wings, rabbit, trap, tower. Naming things around him, sometimes with little drawings that accompanied the word. 

But then she saw the word “bakery.” Her breath caught. That wasn’t a word that Luka would be familiar with unless… 

Underneath that was a sentence. “My bonded lives in a bakery.” 

And as the pages went, she found more little tidbits about her life interspersed between Luka’s practicing. “My bonded has blue eyes.” “My bonded has black hair.” “My bonded likes the color pink.” “My bonded likes flowers.” 

It seemed he’d tried to learn as much about her as he could, but either Jagged never told him her name or Luka never asked because every one of them started with “my bonded.” She wondered if he did it on purpose. It seemed like something he would do. Waiting not only to meet her but to hear her name. 

He’d filled the next page, and it looked like a letter. Addressed to her. She glanced back at him, but he was turned away from her and she couldn’t see his face. She remembered how he’d stiffened when she asked if she could read it before he’d brushed it off as nothing. But he did say she could read it… 

So she did. 

***

To My Bonded,

You probably won’t ever get the chance to read this. I’m not sure why I’m even writing it other than I guess if the worst happens maybe there will be a small piece left of me that I can hope you would come to know.

From what I know of you, I think you might be someone who would listen.

Firstly, I don’t blame you if you’re angry with me. It probably hasn’t been easy on your end and I don’t know how much you’ve been told about our situation. Which is the worse curse, I wonder, knowing everything and waiting to see how it unfolds or knowing nothing and having to make a decision. Either way, I guess it’s really my fault anyways.

As for the second thing. I don’t know that I’ll have the chance to show you so I want you to know. I do care for you. Deeply. Sometimes that scares me because I don’t even know your name. The only thing I remember is seeing your eyes that day I rescued you. When they opened, when I knew you were okay, I was so relieved that I hardly even noticed your eyes were blue until Jagged reminded me years later. But they are, aren’t they? I wonder if they were like that before, or if maybe that’s another part of me that stayed with you.

I’m both dreading and hoping for the day I get to see those eyes again. Maybe when that day comes I can explain myself and apologize and tell you all this in person. Until then.

Yours, Luka

---

Bonded,

I didn’t think I’d write to you again. But Jagged told me today you had a ‘crush’ on someone in your village. A taylers boy, although I don’t know what that means. He told me about the fire too. He didn’t really have to. I felt it. I felt how your heart hurt and I wanted to go to you. Maybe I should have. I was afraid. 

Jagged said you were fine, that you would be fine. But next time I feel that, I’m coming to you. Scared or not.

Yours, Luka

---

Bonded,

I am sick of this place. I’m sick of this tower and sick of the waiting and sick of feeling like I’ll be stuck like this forever. I thought you’d come for me. Aren’t you curious about me? Don’t you know by now what’s happening, why I’m still here, that I’m waiting for you? Or maybe you’re staying away because you know. Maybe you want it to be this way, maybe this is your choice.

I don’t mean that. If you knew I’m sure you’d be here already. I guess I wish I knew how much longer it’s going to be like this. How much longer I’ll be waiting for you.

Yours, Luka

---

Dear Bonded,

I keep writing to you for some strange reason. It’s a sort of comfort, knowing that you’ll probably kill me before you get to read any of this. I’m sure that’s your answer now because your village has started sending men to kill me instead. They come up from your village anyway.

It’s okay. I get it. You’re probably scared of me. The rest of them have been so I can only assume you think the same. I haven’t let them win yet. For now there’s still a small part of me that hopes you don’t know anything about this. That it has nothing to do with you. For now anyways.

Yours, Luka

---

Bonded,

I hate the taste of blood.

Yours, Luka

---

Dearest Bonded,

This is my last letter to you. I can’t keep doing this. The men keep coming. I’ve tried everything to get them to leave me alone, but nothing seems to work. And I’m tired. I know you’re probably not coming. You won’t come. Even if you did, you’d be here to kill me. And I had every intention of giving you that choice, but I’ve made my decision. The next time those men come I’m not fighting anymore.

If you do find this. If you do come for me. I’m sorry. I’ve loved you with every breath.

Yours, Luka 

---

Dearest Bonded,

I’m a coward. Or a fool in love. Either way, I’m still here. I have to have faith in you.

Yours, Luka

***

She jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder. Luka laughed as he sat down behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist to press his chest against her back and lay his head on top of hers.

“Dramatic, wasn’t I?” he asked, still chuckling. As much as she could she swatted at his hand with the journal. 

“You scared me! You shouldn’t come up behind someone like that!” 

“We’re the only ones here, who else did you think it was?” 

Damn him, she could hear his satisfied smirk in his voice. She swatted him again for good measure, even as he pressed a kiss to her hair, but his last two letters were still sharp in her mind. 

“Why’d you stop writing?” she asked, flipping through the many blank pages that were left. She felt him shrug behind her. 

“I didn’t see much point to it, really. Either you’d come and we’d live happily ever after and I could tell you everything myself or… not. And it wasn’t like I ever expected you to want to read it if things went badly.” 

“How long after this…” she started, but she lost her voice halfway through. She had to swallow hard past the lump that was forming to find it again. “How much longer did you have to wait for me?”

He was quiet for a moment and he rubbed his hands up and down her arms, probably trying to soften the blow. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said softly. 

“It does to me. Luka, if I’d known any of this—why didn’t you let Jagged tell me?” 

He let out another of those soft laughs behind her and his breath ghosted across her neck. “He wanted to. We fought about it a lot. But I figured that would only make you feel… obligated.” 

She thought about that while she stared at his last entry. Of course it was impossible to think what she might’ve done, or how she might’ve felt because she only knew what had happened. The series of events that led her to him. The nightmares and the flames and thinking she was a curse to her family and her village. And up at the tower Luka was dealing with his own nightmare. He’d almost given up hope and when she did come to the tower she’d almost proved him right. 

His arms tightened around her as if he could sense where her thoughts had gone. As if to prove he was okay and it turned out alright. She pressed back against him and could feel his heartbeat thudding steadily through her own chest. Maybe he was right. Maybe it didn’t matter. They were together now. That’s what she’d told him. To stop blaming himself for what happened. She didn't blame him for anything and at the very least he'd already forgiven her, too. 

She turned in his arms and slid her hand behind his neck to pull his face down to hers. As she pressed her lips to his, it felt like a promise. A promise that he’d never have to be apart from her like that again, bond or not. 

He melted against her and for a moment they were both lost in each other, in the knowledge that in this moment they were safe and together and that was all that mattered. 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Dealing with Intruders.”

So sorry this came out so late today. I was at work and things got busy. I wanted it to be a bit longer, but decided this was a good enough stopping point. I hope you all enjoy

Yeb took a step back.

“I said run, and DIE!” The small, Fuzzy creature said, its ear twitching spastically over its brightly colored fur.

She froze in place, she didn’t know what this creature was, she had never seen it through all of her spying on the ship. It was small though, so there was more than a distinct possibility that she just hadn’t seen it. Either way that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t know anything about it. It could be poisonous, or venomous, or have some other strange ability that she didn’t know about.

“Who are you!” it demanded.

She held up her hands, “Yeb…. my name is Yeb, please don’t hurt me I’m sorry I snuck aboard your ship…. I… I panicked.”

“A stowaway then, from the ice planet.”

She nodded quickly, “Please, I mean you no harm, I just…. I just made a dumb mistake is all.”

“I feel that the Admiral will be very interested to learn about this.”

She felt her fur stand on end thinking of the genial alien captain and how he would react to the sudden appearance of her on his ship, a stowaway. What might he think about her betraying his trust like that, what would he seem like when driven to anger?

“Come with me.” The little fuzzball ordered, turned and began waddling away, “Try to escape and I break your kneecaps.”

Yeb followed behind silently. She didn’t see how the small creature would even reach her kneecaps, but she certainly didn’t want to challenge it. If it was THAT confident it could hurt her, then she had no desire to figure out why.

They stepped into the hallway, her following, keeping mostly to the maintenance tunnels, gone unused by most of the crew. At a certain point she started to hear low murmured voices rising up in some agitation over the thrumming sound of the ship’s distant engines. They came out of the maintenance corridor, and the sound around them rose higher.

It was still agitated, but hushed, and as she walked into the room she was greeted with a very odd…. And an almost disturbing scene.

There was a ring in the center of the floor, surrounded by seats. Inside the ring, little drops of red made a smattering over the floor. The humans sat around in agitated silence looking between each other and the occasional Drev.

Sitting just outside the circle was the human leader…. looking …. More the worse for wear.

He had a small crowd gathered around him,and that strange red liquid was leaking down the side of his face and onto his shirt. Just to the side, the small Blue Drev was standing looking concerned.

As Yeb got closer, she noticed to her horror that the human’s leg was missing! She froze in place and the entire group of whispering humans looked up as she stopped. Concern turned to confusion turned to shock.

The human leader lifted his head, which was discolored and leaking fluid but paused as well, “You!”

“She shrunk back.”

“I found this stowaway hiding in the maintenance tunnels.” The fluff ball announced to the whole room.

The human opened his mouth, closed it, tilted his head and then sighed.

“Will you give us just a moment.” His voice was calm and restrained, almost, tired.

He turned to look over at The blue Drev and a smaller group of humans clustered around just to the side.

“Any joy?”

“It doesn’t look too bad sir, most of the main components are intact as expected, it is just a faulty joining pin.”

“Can you fix it?”

“Unfortunately….not with what we have here. But it should be easy enough to order At Europa.”

He sighed, “Sit, well, it’ll have to do.” He turned to look at one of the other humans, she knew to be named Ramirez, “Head to my room, look in the closet, and in the back corner, you will find those crutches that go around your wrists.”

The man nodded, “Yeah, for sue.” He jogged off and the human leader, Adam, turned to face her.

Slow red was still oozing from the side of his face still as the little spidery alien creature attempted to stop it.

“Yeb, I can’t say I expected to see you here.”

“I...I am so sorry… I have no idea what I was thinking. I saw the box, and it was open, and i just sort of… jumped in, I have no idea why I did that, and then I was worried that you were going to be mad, so I…. So I hid and…. and .” 

It was getting very hot all of a sudden, and she was beginning to pant.

“Wow, slow your roll there for a moment.” He held up his hands.

She stared at him, teetering on the edge of concern and fear.

“That….. Sounds like exactly something I would have done.” He smiled at her with his pearly white teeth, “Welcome aboard the Omen. I wish you would have told me sooner as this is hardly a hospitable environment for you. Where have you been hiding.”

She looked down at her shuffling feet, “The…. walk-in freezer?”

He barked a laugh, “Ingenious.” 

He held a pad of white to the side of his head and went to stand but stopped suddenly apparently seeming surprised that he was missing a leg. He huffed, “Will someone help me up.” He turned to look at the small doctor frowning and arms crossed over its bug-like chest, “Yes, we will discuss my idiocy later, but right now, we need to figure out how to keep our friend comfortable.”

The little doctor gave her a good once-over, “Does your fur grow back?”

She paused, frowned and then nodded slowly, “Yes it does.”

“Even the under layer?”

“yes , it would.”

The humans glanced between each other, and Adam held up a hand, “Now, this is not out of offence to you, so Don’t take it that way, but….. It might be cooler and more bearable if…. Perhaps you had less fur…. As in shaving it.”

She paused in thought, “I….I have never thought about it….I suppose…. It can’t hurt, if it would make the heat more bearable.”

“Alright, than that is something we can do. Your other options to wear a cooling vest,but those are heavy and would require battery changes and charging. Granted the other way would not be permanent either, but it might last longer.”

She paused to think about it, then, “Will you let me stay here.”

“I was going to let you stay here no matter what you chose to do, so it's your call.”

Just then Ramirez came jogging into the room holding a pair of metal sticks with strange loops at the end, which he handed over to Adam.

The human threaded his wrists through the loops, and levered himself up onto his one remaining leg with his weight supported on the metal sticks. Yeb tried to keep from staring, but fascination outweighed her propriety.

“Krill, take Yeb to the infirmary, and see if you can’t figure out how to safely remove some of her fur. I mean sheep shears would probably be best, but it's not like I have any of those lying around the ship.”

“And you?”

“I will be right along.”

The little spidery alien moved to the side of her and guided her away from the room. She glanced back over her shoulder just in time to see the Blue Drev and the human duck their heads in fervent conversation, her keen hearing managed to pick up some of what was being said, “Adam, I am so sorry I…”

“I asked r it, its ok.”

“No its-”

“Yes it is, now please don’t worry about it, and if you really are, just fix my leg when we get back to Europa.”

She saw the human touch the Drev’s Arm for just a moment before he limped away on his crutches, following after them up the hall.

Again she tried not to stare.

He was fast on those things, and surprisingly mobile, but her eyes kept being drawn to his missing leg, amputated at center thigh. She had seen wounds like that before, mostly after someone got to close to an ice beast or a crevice lurker. They had never lasted long dying from cold and shock a few hours after the incident.

What kind of…. Ungodly power would keep someone alive after trauma like that….

Her thoughts were cut off as she was pulled into the bright hite room next to the freezer. She was sat down and examined by the small studious doctor, who still seemed too grouchy to be particularly talkative. After a while two of the marines came trotting into the room each holding a box.

“This is all we could find, a couple of razors from the crew quarters.”

The one named Maverick eyed her, “I doubt they will be very usable after this.”

Ramirez nodded, “I’d tend to agree.”

Adam limped up behind them, “Might as well try.” he looked down at Yeb with a smile, “Want to do it yourself, or have some help.”

“Er…. help?”

Ramirez clicked on the Razor, “Hey, do you want a mohawk?” 

She blinked, “A what.”

“We could do it all the way down your back, have the hair longer there, it would look badass.”

Yeb thought he was joking for a moment but seeing the look on Adam’s face she had a feeling he wasn’t. She wondered, they seemed excited and almost hopeful she’d say yes…. She didn’t see the harm in it,and  she didn’t know what badass meant but it sounded fun. So she hesitantly nodded.

“Fuck yeah.”

She wasn’t entirely sure she trusted “These two humans, but what else was she to do?

The going was very, very slow, and the strange machines were very, very loud, she watched as her hair fell to the floor in great chunks, and was surprised when a cool breeze rushed over her neck.

It took them over an hour, and by the time they were done the floor was covered in hair, and she was marginally more comfortable. It felt so weird, and when they turned a mirror towards her she was shocked.

She was so…

Small.

She turned her head looking down at the scruff of hair left on her back which she was delighted to find made her look more vicious, the effect would be even more prominent when her fur stood up on end.

“See, badass.”

The little doctor crossed his arms again, “Don’t you think, Admiral that this might cause some diplomatic issues with the Tricar if they were to know she is here?”

“Than I guess we better not let anyone know she is here, and look at her, a horrible accident caused her to lose her fur and now she wouldn’t last a day back home, we are simply being generous hosts.” he patted her back then paused, “I have another potentially inappropriate question, so please don’t be offended.”

She looked up at him her head tilted and her ears pulled back.

“What?”

“Can I please…. Touch your fur, you look very fluffy, and humans love to pet things. Its sort of a thing about us?”

She shrugged and didn’t see the harm in it.

He grinned at her rather happy and adjusted himself to balance on one crutch, hooking his hand out of the other as he reached over and ran a hand from the top of her head and w nto her shoulders.

“So fluffy!”

She laid her ears back, That was actually kind of nice, and when he stopped she was only mildly disappointed. She’d have to convince someone else to touch her fur, which she doubted would be hard.

“Anyway, I have to take care of a head wound, but Ramirez and Maverick, why don’t you take Yeb around the ship, and give her the full tour, you know without the sneaking around and being forced to hide in the walk in freezer.”

They nodded and laughed somewhat.

“Try to keep her out of trouble will you. Oh…. and if you see Sunny…. Can you send her up here?”

His voice had grown somewhat hesitant, a minute change in pitch which she detected with her large ears.

She wondered what was going on, but let it go as the humans took her by the shoulder and led her away.

They seemed excited to have heron the ship, and their excitement made her excited. She was more than ready to learn and spend time with this strange alien species. And to try more of their food, which was about ten times better than the bland over-salted fish on her planet.

Hopefully she would be able to repay them somehow.

[camuslittlesister]

OA Archive: Me x Husbando Challenge

I used to be very active in Otome Amino back in the old days before 💩 hit the fan, and I loved doing challenges (kinda miss it tbh). I don’t really like the idea of losing a piece of my Otome history to having left one platform, so I will be re-posting the stuff from oldest to newest alongside more fashion posts and smutty fanfics. It’s all cute and fluffy and SFW, except for the self-deprecatory sense of humour.  Idk whether I would still pick the same guy for this challenge if I re-did it now (who am I kidding, of course it’d be Okita even if I’ve been crying over Gekkamaru in Nightshade for 1h20 min straight at time of writing), but he is still one of my favourite 2D boys and I’m big sad I’m not in Japan and couldn’t go to the stage events they’re running atm. 

Me x Husbando Challenge

Hello ^___^ someone resurrected the #mexhusbando challenge thread and since I was home alone tonight I thought why not write something? It’s my first time writing a short fanfic so I hope it’s not too long 🤞🏻

It’s from Her Love In the Force, but that’s all I’m giving away 😉 hope you enjoy it!

It was a Friday night, and I was bored to death at a trendy Western-style bar in Ginza, at one of Kurosawa’s group dates. I don’t know what possessed me to agree to another one of these. I guess I thought I’d be even more bored now I had no ongoing investigation, or Academy aide to torture. All I could see around me was a sea of groups like ours: men flashing their money and girls eager to throw themselves at them. I never flashed anything, it wasn’t my style: after all, I became a Public Safety officer instead of taking the helm at my family’s business.  Three people stood out in this place: they were sitting at the bar and looked foreign. I was curious: expats tend to hang around Roppongi, and bars like this are here so that financial workers can feel like they’re cosmopolitan and sophisticated. I got up with the excuse of getting a drink, but really I was dying to put my skills to use and observe the foreign trio. I approached the bar next to one of the girls at the sides. She had her phone in front of her on the bar, face down, with a cartoon T-Rex on the cover. “That’s a cute dinosaur you have there” I said in English, before my brain could even register what my mouth was doing. “That it is”, she replied, in Japanese tinted by an endearing accent, “I’m sorry, my Japanese isn’t as good as your English”. She turned to look at me with a faint smile: she had blue eyes you could lose yourself in, porcelain white skin and dark blonde hair that curved at the shoulders. I felt as if time had stopped. She raised her hand to attract the attention of the bartender, her nails the same soft red as her lipstick. “I’m so sorry, Mr Dinosaur, our conversation made you lose the spot in line. He’ll be here next” “Don’t worry. I’m Ayumu Shinonome, by the way” I replied with a slight bow. She replied with a really long name I couldn’t catch, but my attempts to figure it out were interrupted by the bartender: “Any drinks?” She gestured with her hand to me to go first, then I looked at her to see if I could buy her one too. Something inside of me was desperate to keep the conversation going, and it wasn’t boredom anymore. The bartender addressed her, enunciating her name slowly, as if he figured I didn’t understand it: “A top up for you, Alexis?”. “Yes, please, darling” she replied, and the bartender went. I panicked: darling was a term of affection and he must have used her first name, that’s common in the West even for people who just met in social situations, I knew that much. 

I observed him picking up a bottle from the shelf, it was an expensive whiskey. Neat whiskey seemed such a strong drink, the opposite of what I’d expect of someone with such a girly phonecase. It’s the kind of stuff that Hyogo drinks. I made a mental note of the brand to ask him, while hoping my beer didn’t make me look like a wimp. I knew nothing about her, but I was fascinated. I offered to pay, hoping not to meet the wrath of the bartender for hitting on his girlfriend. I was going to hide behind doing the gentlemanly thing. She thanked me with a bright smile, then sipped the drink. “Won’t your friends miss you if I take up any more of your time?”, she asked me, her voice genuinely concerned rather than a polite way to send me away. “They’re not my friends, technically” I replied, looking over my shoulder “the only one I know is the guy at the corner there. He organises the group dates and I go as a favour to balance the numbers”. She blushed: “A group date, uh? Aki told me about them but I didn’t believe him”. The bartender, who I presumed was Aki, interjected: “They’re really common in our culture, I don’t know why you were so sceptical. It was a success when we did it for the society fundraiser, even if I’m still surprised you went along with it”. She chuckled: “It seemed a better option than Mark’s kissing booth idea” then she turned to me “sorry, Ayumu...you don’t mind if I call you so, do you?”, I shook my head, “Aki and I were at university together. These two too” she said, tilting her head to her side, “I didn’t mean to cut you out”. She was so lively yet so considerate, and I didn’t want the night to end. In truth, I didn’t want her time in Japan to end. I had long forgotten the thrill of first meeting someone you like: for many years I had been hung up on my first love, but once she got married something inside me started to change. The women I met at mixers never captivated me enough to move beyond having a good time once and never seeing them again, but for the first time ever I was grateful to Kurosawa and even feeling some genuine affection for him. Just a little, and I would never admit to it anyway. 3 years have passed since that fateful night, and I find myself in Ginza again, but not for one of Kurosawa’s mixers...although he is one of the faces reflected in the shopping window with me (he invited himself along, of course). The other face was Aki: “Go with the sapphire, trust me. I’ve known her for ages, she’d say a diamond is too common, Kate Middleton didn’t get a diamond and Lady Thatcher didn’t have a diamond”. I listened to what he had to say, my hand on my face in the automatic gesture of when I’m thinking that she loves to mock. Diamond rings are expected, but my girl was never one to do what is expected. “Alright, a sapphire it is, but if she turns me down I’ll give you to Hyogo to do with you as he pleases”.

Thank you for reading! 💙

[kingstylesdaily]

Harry Styles’ “Adore You” Is Everything a Music Video Should Be (Including Underappreciated by The VMAs)

KSD NOTE: there is a mention of suicide in regards to the beginning of Adore You.

On November 18, 2019, a website promoting a mysterious place called Eroda (“No Land Quite Like It”) arrived on the internet. Two days later, the official Twitter account for this fictional frown-shaped island began teasing local seaside attractions. You may have missed it, depending on which corners of the internet you choose to lurk, but not if you were a Harry Styles fan, a group that went into pure overdrive trying to figure out what it all meant.

I, for one, missed it at the time. I was unaware this account was cryptically quote tweeting fans as they tried to piece together what was happening, what it meant, and what it could be connected to (Greek Mythology and Lost were a couple of theories posed in comments, Twitter threads, and Reddit). Meanwhile, the Columbia Records marketing department had been hard at work for months, devising this specific and highly-detailed campaign around the music video for Styles’ second single, “Adore You” from his second solo album, Fine Line, ever since he shot the video in Scotland in August 2019 (Eroda = Adore backwards — clever!).

But it was all leading up to the morning of Friday, December 6 when the video was released, one week before the full-length album arrived. Up until that point, I had never seen an entire Harry Styles music video, but what happened next was inevitable. Somehow, as a self-proclaimed boy band scholar, I had never paid much attention to One Direction. I kept a distant eye on Styles since they disbanded, intrigued by the decisions he was making in his solo career. But I hadn’t yet realized I’d been in the ring all throughout the fall of 2019, fighting to resist the inevitable fascination that awaited. First came the jab of Rob Sheffield’s Rolling Stone profile, followed by the cross of “Lights Up”, a song that cracked my Top 20 most listened to songs of the year despite being released just two months before Spotify so thoughtfully compiled that personalized playlist. Then there was the hook of his SNL hosting stint in November (and bless you Bowen Yang for that Sara Lee sketch), which then leads us to the “Adore You” video, the uppercut and ultimate TKO. I surrendered in what felt like a near instant. I was now a Harry Styles fan. (If we’re following this analogy, I sat up to spit out some blood after seeing that cover of “Juice” before my head quickly hit the mat again with a loud thud).

Maybe it’s not quite remarkable that I took time out of a Friday morning to watch a music video, but that I sat at my desk, in an office, with other people around (back when we did those kinds of things) and proceeded to wipe away a few tiny tears from under my eyes by the end of it, was an experience I had not been through… maybe ever? In a world of lyric videos and TikToks, actual, thoughtful, impactful music videos with a full (and sweet!) story are about as rare as a glowing and growing fish these days.

Ultimately, “Adore You” does everything a music video should do. In nearly eight minutes, this video uses excellent visual effects in a cool and interesting way, tells a compelling and heartfelt story, is anchored by an irresistible leading man and an adorable sidekick, is backed up by the catchiest song you could ever dream of, and culminates with a touching and hopeful ending. It’s a treat for the eyes and the ears and the soul. It’s innovative and the kind of thing that begs you to watch it more than once to catch all the details (and yes, I do tear up every time).

So one would think that an award show with the specific purpose of celebrating this type of creativity would be extra sure to nominate such a charming and effective clip, but alas, “Adore You” was overlooked in the MTV Video Music Awards main categories this year. Of course, some could argue that that fact only adds to the video’s credibility but I’ll do my best to not be that petty as I’m still rooting for it to win in the three technical categories where it picked up nominations: Best Visual Effects by Mathematic, Best Art Direction by Laura Ellis Cricks, and Best Direction by Dave Meyers, who remains one of the most inventive and influential directors of all time and whose videos with artists such as Missy Elliot, Pink, and Kendrick Lamar have been racking up nominations for nearly 20 years now. He also saw four other videos he directed get recognized this year: Normani’s “Motivation” (Best Chorography), Travis Scott’s “Highest in the Room” (Best Hop Hop and Best Visual Effects), Anderson .Paak’s “Lockdown” (Video For Good), and Camila Cabello feat. DaBaby’s “My Oh My” (Best Cinematography).

But I reached out to Meyers to specifically ask about the intricate details of “Adore You” and how it all came to be; how he captured such a vibe with the overcast and dreary weather, mixed so wonderfully with the charming oddities of the people that make up this world of Eroda. In addition to directing the video, he also co-wrote the story with Chris Shafer and said, “It’s the first idea that popped to mind after the first listen to the song, and the first idea I pitched to Harry. It was a story that underscored my understanding of what Harry stood for and felt it was necessary to tell it as a narrative to convey his optimism.”

The extended version of the video starts with a two-and-a-half-minute introduction to the world of Eroda, narrated by Rosalia. This includes the “peculiar” people and their professions on the island, meeting The Boy (Styles) and his glowing smile that most people try to avoid, and the quirky superstitions these people continue to live by. “It all served a purpose,” Meyers said of the details. “The superstitions were a set up for how society generally reacts to different things. They fear change or oddity, even if it’s what’s best for them.”

Meyers, however, did not share in that fear, as much of this video provided for interesting and new opportunities he had yet to experience throughout his decades-long career, which he listed off: ”Compelling narrative, CG character, remote location, Scottish crew (nothing phased them),” also noting that all of the other characters in the video were locals as well. So perhaps they were less fazed by the atmosphere across the four-day shoot in Scotland, but as Meyers recalled, the “weather was nuts. It rained every 20 minutes, then the sun, then cloud over.”

However, it’s likely that Mother Nature is also a Styles fan, as Meyers recalled, “I seem to remember going up on the hill for Harry’s picnic with the fish and being worried that it was so gloomy. By the time we came to shoot, the sun came out. And then the sun went away as soon as the scene was over. Similarly, we had the worst storm when Harry was contemplating suicide at the start. Pouring rain, drenching him. So I guess in that sense it was fun watching how Scotland provided a backdrop for the emotions we were after.”

And hey, at least they had the weather on their side to add to the mood while shooting the video, as one of their main characters, well, didn’t exist. “It was very odd shooting with no fish,” Meyers admitted. “But was quite rewarding later seeing it dropped in and making empathic sense to the story we were after.”

Of course, the main character they did have on hand is an awfully useful and appealing one at that. Fans became enamored with the moment Styles uses the back of his hand to check the temperature of a coffee pot before dumping the fish inside the water so it could stay alive. I asked Meyers about this particular moment and he said, “The problem we had was apparent when Harry ran in and threw the fish in the pot. We all sorta felt — well, what if it was hot? So I believe Harry improvised that as a solution and we felt it was perfect for the character’s sensitivity and consideration for this poor fish.” And that’s not the only nice thing he does for his fish friend — he also serves him a tiny taco! “The taco was a whimsical way to express friendship between Harry and the fish,” Meyers offered. It looked pretty tasty, too.

The entire video serves as a showcase for what Styles does best and what makes him such a unique artist: his music, his acting, and his charisma, which Meyers knew would offer him a lot to work with. “Harry is a leading man. I felt that from my first meeting and wanted to play with his wonderful range of emotions. So finding a story with a real character arc was part of my focus in building this world.” Meyers described working on “Adore You” as an “all-around memorable shoot: awesome location, lovely Harry, compelling story, great effects, and… it worked.”

It did. And it was a risk: a video this complex and detailed (and one has to assume, costly), attached to a marketing campaign that proved to be even more involved, still came with no guarantee that the fans wouldn’t shrug it off. But as Manos Xanthogeorgis, SVP of Digital Marketing & Media at Columbia Records told Billboard last year, “When you have a video and a piece of art at such a level, it’s an incredible challenge for the rest of the team to build a campaign at that same level of artistry and creativity.” Oh, and that was only step one, as the marketing team engaged in “real-time marketing” with fans online, ensuring they would continue to remain engaged by dropping clues and clips in the lead-up to the video premiere and subsequently the album. “This whole campaign was around mystery and sometimes mystery is more powerful than knowledge,” Xanthogeorgis said. The Twitter handle has remained active throughout 2020, used as a continual marketing tool for Styles’ next videos including the Meyers-directed “Falling” and this summer’s hit, “Watermelon Sugar.”

With that kind of fan engagement, “Adore You” seemed like a no-brainer for the fan-voted categories of the VMAs this year, as they surely would’ve turned out to vote just as feverishly for this video as they did when searching for clues (about a made-up island, at that!). But hey, maybe MTV was just not interested in massive fan engagement this year — after all, it’s not like everything Styles does, including growing freakin’ facial hair, has the internet in a tizzy for weeks. Ultimately, as the impact of music videos (and certainly the ceremony celebrating them) continues to lose relevance, the disregard of this specific project simply feels like a missed opportunity to acknowledge a rare achievement in the art form.

While Meyers was sure to describe his inclusion in the VMA nominations this year as “lovely and flattering” (and he better have a moonperson in his possession this time next week, MTV!) it’s still puzzling why “Adore You” wouldn’t be included in the big categories, considering Styles is squarely within their demo, at the very least. That “Adore You” is also a technical and storytelling masterpiece, as well as a full moment that was used as inspiration both for the experience online and in-person at the Fine Line Spotify listening party last December, that also comes packed with one of the most enthusiastic groups of fans around, well, that should have had the entire network drooling.

Of course, some of this can simply be chalked up to a perfect storm. As far as his singles go, “Lights Up” was a nice appetizer, but “Adore You” remains the delicious entree (you already know what’s for dessert). “Adore You” is a perfect pop record if I’ve ever heard one (and I have) and deserved a special video. A Chris Isaak “Wicked Game” sexy vibe wasn’t going to work here. The song tells the story of such passionate, pure, and heartachingly naive and innocent love that it almost had to be directed toward a non-human being. Instead, Styles chose to inject those same carefree, sweaty, sticky, delicious, whimsical beach vibes into the “Watermelon Sugar” clip, which was the right choice, and not just for the summertime season (MTV has since added the Song of Summer category to the VMAs and included “Watermelon Sugar”).

But it’s “Adore You” that has melodies that bring a smile to the faces of babies, get your toes tapping even when you hear it in the dentist’s chair, and likely has my neighbors rolling their eyes when I sing along to it in the shower. The song is so simple it’s deep, a theme reflected in the video, as is the central reminder to help and care for others, a thoroughly 2020 message.

However, not all is lost. Both “Adore You” and “Watermelon Sugar” continue to rack up major spins at radio with the latter hitting number one on the Billboard charts earlier this month. Grammy voting kicks off at the end of September and Academy members should take note. Not only is Fine Line more than worthy of being acknowledged, but having Styles on hand to potentially collect trophies and perform is in your best interest when it comes to viewers and online chatter. Do not wait to take him seriously. This is the album, this is the time. Prove that you aren’t a bunch of stodgy old white men who think he’s just for teen (and um, thirty-something) girls, but that you understand the music he enjoys, is inspired by, and subsequently makes, is the same rock music you appreciate as well. An artist like Styles can be both of those things at the same time, and really, the best of both worlds. Give the album a listen, and then one more to let it all sink in. If you have not yet succumbed to the force that is Harry Styles fandom, I truly can’t recommend it enough — and please know that it will get you eventually.

Source: Decider.com

[liahswriting]

Lovesick Six and a Murderous Robot Boyfriend

Relationship(s): Revenant/original female character, Wraith/original female character, Mirage/original female character, Bloodhound/original female character, Octane/original female character, Crypto/original female character, Loba/original female character

Words: 8,411

Warnings: None

Summary: The new girl is very pretty and she's got most of the men (and some of the women) pining for her. Problem is, she's got her eyes set on a certain simulacrum.

Pretty girls can fight. Pretty girls can be tough. Pretty girls can be scary and threatening. Just because Gia was pretty didn't mean she didn't belong in the Games. I mean, Loba was almost perfect in every physical way and yet she knew her way around a pistol. Che had a cute face and yet her teams almost always were Champion. And of course Elliott was downright the most handsome man in the Games and yet he could wipe a team if need be. Being attractive didn't mean you were weak. In fact, Gia being attractive gave her an advantage to the game. After all, how could a pretty girl like her be any trouble? You think you're safe because look how cute she is, what is she gonna do to you? And then all of a sudden you're eating dirt because she shoved a wingman up your ass and annihilated you.

Gia's origins are unknown to the rest of the Legends. She showed up one day unexpectedly and won Champion that same afternoon. Her kit and abilities brought a whole new playstyle to the Games: a playstyle that both terrified and intrigued the others. Her enhanced vision gave her every input she needed to weaken your team's defenses. She knew exactly whose health was hanging on by a thread, giving her the ultimate advantage to breaking your team apart and dwindling your numbers until you were way beyond outmatched. The Legends assumed she had some sort of black market enhancement done to her eyes given the fact that they were far from being normal. How she managed to slip through the Apex recruitment with her fiercely white irises was beyond everyone. I mean, come on! The girl's eyes were as white as snow all around! The only color to them was a very faint, needle-thin black line separating her sclera from her iris. Everything else was pure white. Even her pupil. Crypto was already walking on thin ice with his illegal body enhancements. The only reason no one actually paid much attention to it was simply because his modifications didn't directly impact his abilities in the arena. But Gia was a whole other story.

Typically, the Legends expect Silva to dive head first into a fire fight with his stim. Or perhaps they'll see Crypto's drone following them around. And on occasion a team will back out of a fight to heal up and end up running into another team holding a choke point with Wattson's electric fences. All of this was expected. And then Gia came along and now every Legend that wasn't on her team was afraid of her tactical EMP that disabled all enemy primary weapons. You could pin her team down and you think you're gonna win, and then all of a sudden your Devotion stops all functionality and now you have to rely on your Alternator with 20 shots left in the chamber.

As if that wasn't enough of a fright, instead of Makoa's air strike landing on your head or Bloodhound storming up behind you faster than humanly possible, Gia's big trick messed with your mind and your vision. In the blink of an eye, you are no longer able to discern who is teammate and who is enemy. And it's not as simple to just say "Wraith is not on my team. I need to shoot her" because the enemy Wraith you're staring down through a 4x-8x will suddenly appear as your friendly Pathfinder and your friendly Pathfinder will suddenly appear as the enemy Wraith. It was more likely to die via friendly fire than enemy fire when Gia's ultimate activated.

The only reprieve the other Legends got was finding out that she was insanely friendly. Thank god too because no one needed another Dr. Nox or another Revenant on their team. Gia was friendly with everyone she interacted with. Despite her scary demeanor, she got along rather excellently with the other Legends. And that's when most of the trouble started.

It all started off as friendly taunts. Elliott took the first step and made a move on her immediately. After all, she's beautiful, he's beautiful, it only made sense for the two of them to date. They could be the ultimate power couple. Their two beautiful faces displayed up high on the Champion banners. It was a dream. But she politely shut him down. Still, he tried again. And she laughed and played along. "My my, Mr. Witt. Aren't you the massive charmer!" This caught the attention of the daredevil himself and he attempted to get under Elliott's skin by literally sliding by them in the arena and dropping the biggest pickup line she's ever heard. "Aye, amiga. Thanks for brightening up the place with your beautiful face." and then he put a couple bullets in Witt's stomach. Silva's team went down immediately for that stunt and Elliott was able to be picked back up, but his idea worked. Elliott was obviously mad at the green-haired adrenaline junkie after the game for trying to steal "his girl" but it was all in good fun when she turned him down too. Bloodhound soon was seen at her side more often than not. He found her skills fascinating and her air of mystery perfectly matched his own. They had sort of an unspoken bond between them, connected solely on the fact that both of their lives were an enigma. Everyone asked her about herself but she never opened up. When it was just her and Bloodhound, neither one even dared to ask the other about their past. It was comforting being able to sit with someone and not have to worry about prying curiosities. Bloodhound attempted to flirt; there was lots of hand touches and close sitting. Yet she turned him down too.

After that it became an unofficial competition between the three of them to see who could win her over, which lead to a lot of showing off and friendly banter. Elliott would throw pickup line after pickup line at her. Silva did crazy stunts to impress her. Bloodhound brought her tea every morning. And yet nothing ever came of it. Gia would play along every now and again but at the end of the day she made it clear she was just playing. Still didn't stop the men from trying.

And then Loba joined the crowd. And boy oh boy was that a surprise. The chick was into chicks! "Did you clowns ever stop and think that maybe you don't have the right parts she's looking for?" Loba taunted them. But she was right, of course. None of the men asked Gia if she was even straight. But it was still all laughs and good times regardless if she ever found an interest in them. Loba had other ideas in mind. She was thoroughly convinced that Gia was full on gay, looking to get it on with another girl. And Loba believed she was just the girl to get her rocks off. Loba was much more blunt than the men ever were in their affection. That night while all the Legends were winding down with some drinks and enjoying the royalties they made from the recent Game, Loba approached Gia and asked her if she would like to join the seductive thief in a private area away from the loud crowd. When she agreed, the three men that had been pining for her started to believe Loba was right all along. Loba and Gia were gonna do it! Loba was gonna fuck the new girl before they were! As much as Elliott enjoyed the thoughts that put into his mind (and trust me, he enjoyed them a lot), he was upset that all of his attempts had been for naught.

Loba and Gia had disappeared for hours and the three men all huddle together in somber at their ultimate defeat. Elliott poured several rounds of drinks for them in solidarity and they cheered a farewell to their playful challenge. It was Gia 's friendly "What's wrong, boys?" that gathered their attention mid-mope. Silva was just about to tell her of their shallow depression when he spotted Loba stiffly walking up to the bar for another drink with a pout on her face. The thief looked just as pristine as when she and Gia disappeared. Not a single wrinkle in her clothes nor a thread of hair out of place in its braids. So she was wrong!

"Nada, bonita. We're all good here!" he happily told her and shot back what was left of his current drink. "Right, guys?" he nudged them with a big 'ole grin on his face. Neither of them picked up on his hints but they agreed with him anyway. She didn't buy it for one second and got another round for them to put a smile on their faces. A single, friendly peck to each of their cheeks is what really solidified their grins and she walked off, happy to have made them smile. When Loba approached them after Gia walked away, Silva was quick to ask the slumping woman what went on behind closed doors.

"I was wrong." she admitted pitifully. "She turned me down too."

"So the competition is back on?" Elliott questioned and all four of them agreed. And thus their antics continued: Elliott flirted, Silva showed off, Bloodhound gifted things, and Loba seduced. None of it worked in the slightest. But Gia would laugh it off and let her touches linger just that fraction of a second longer that made them all question their sanity. If they were teamed up with her, they'd give her the items she requested. If she was hungry, they got her food. If she was feeling unwell, they took care of her until she was better.

"Like lost puppies." Anita commented to the four of them as she watched them all practically drool at the sight of Gia on the complete opposite end of the room. She seemed unaware of their presence but they knew she knew they were there. She sat with Makoa and Pathfinder, all three of them happily chatting with each other without a care in the world. Makoa's big belly laughs rang in everyone's ears.

"She's totally into me, I can tell." Elliott stated matter-of-factly.

"As if." Loba retorted.

"Did'cha ever think that maybe she got someone already?" Che asked with a smirk. "Some of us got loved ones back home."

"I doubt it, amiga. She would've told us if she did." said Silva.

"Maybe she didn't want to tell you. Seems like she doesn't tell anyone anything about herself. For all you know, she could have a husband, or wife, and several kids back on her home planet." Anita commented. The latter part of her sentence fell on deaf ears as the four love-sick Legends stared in Gia's direction when she laughed at something either Pathfinder or Makoa said. Her laugh was like music to their ears. Anita rolled her eyes towards Che and the other simply shook her head.

"Look at her! She's absolutely gor-gor-gorg... pretty! We're totally comp-compat... made for each other!"

"If we're going off looks alone, surely there are better suitors than you." Loba told Elliott with a smirk.

"Hey now, that's quite rude!"

"Gia is a strong fighter. Our skills are equally matched. Perhaps she's not looking for a superficial partner at all."

"All of you are a hack." Crypto's voice surprised everyone. He stood just off to the side, watching them with a bored expression on his face. Hands in his pockets, as is his usual stance, he eyed all four of them down.

"Come on! Don't try and tell us you don't think she's muy caliente."

"She is very beautiful," Crypto agreed. "and you are very desperate."

"So you are not in any way attracted to her." Loba stated rather than asked. She leaned forward, chin on her knuckles, and pressed him.

"I never said that."

"So you think about her."

"I never said that either."

"Say what you want, but until she tells me to back off I'm not going anywhere."

"And neither am I!" Elliott responded rather quickly -and defensively.

"That makes three of us." said Silva.

"Four."

"Fine. Make it five."

"I can't believe this." Che grumbled.

Gia found Crypto unexpectedly by her side more and more. He was rather reserved and his attempts at flirting were down right embarrassing. She tried not to show pity for him. The poor guy probably hadn't ever touched a boob before. She assumed him like Elliot, Silva, Bloodhound, and Loba and went along with whatever he said. She never asked much from Crypto and he was thankful for that. He had no idea how to woo her. He knew absolutely nothing about her, but who was he to ask her about her past if he wasn't willing to exchange an equal value? She was pretty and she was talented, so he tried to play to those strengths. He complimented her when she dolled up and he praised her when her team won Champion. Very rarely was he ever paired up with her so he often admired her through his scopes. He assumed to himself that he could impress her if he won Champion, so he tried his best to wipe the floor with any enemy teams he came across. More often than not, her team would demolish his so he would side step her if he spotted her. However, whenever Caustic or Revenant were on his team, there was no room for niceties and they went in with guns blazing whether he liked it or not. Caustic would throw his gas traps at them, or Revenant would silence them, and then suddenly both teams were at war with each other.

Just last week, Revenant went charging in at Gia, Bloodhound, and Wattson. He silenced their abilities, giving Revenant an easy target on the blonde girl before she could even defend their position with her electric fences. Wattson went down like a sack of bricks. And then Wraith went charging in on Bloodhound. She managed to break the hunter's shields before Gia came to her teammate's rescue and knocked the voidwalker to the ground with a few well-placed 301 shots. Crypto attempted to help his team by going in with his drone and EMP-ing the two enemies still standing. With their abilities still silenced, Gia was unable to fight back at the same caliber and Revenant took his EVA and pulled the trigger three times in Gia's chest. She collapsed to the ground with her knockdown shield aimed directly at the robot.

"Nothing personal, girlie." he chuckled as he tried to show off and finish her. He got interrupted when Bloodhound came around the corner and shot his hopped-up Wingman into the simulacrum's skull. Revenant went down as well. That left Crypto versus Bloodhound. Crypto was still fully shielded as opposed to Bloodhound. However, Crypto was armed with a 45 while his opponent had a Wingman with a skull-piercer on it. Even if Crypto landed all of his shots, it would only take three from the hunter to fully knock him. And he did indeed get knocked. His gold knockdown shield was the only thing that kept his team from being spawned out of the arena and back onto the dropship. Bloodhound knows Crypto's entire team was down so he was not at all worried about being shot in the back as he picked up both Gia and Wattson. Gia didn't waste any time healing and instead finished off Revenant with a big fucking smile on her beautiful lips.

"It's not personal, Rev." she echoed back at him and followed it up with a knee thrusted into the simulacrum's throat and then a low roundhouse kick to the side of his skull. Revenant disappeared, his banner taking his place. Meanwhile, Bloodhound turned to Crypto and attempted to finish him off as well. The last thing Crypto saw was the hunter's battle axe being thrown at his head. And then he and Wraith were standing next to Revenant on the dropship while the on-ship medics came to tend to their wounds. Crypto ignored them, instead turning all of his focus towards the displays following the remaining teams in the arena. One monitor focused on the general rotation of the arena. Another showcased the team that killed his. Crypto's eyes followed Gia's face on the display. She was quick to heal up and then lead her team towards the ring.

The rest of the game was long-lived. Many teams put up a good fight with each other. Ultimately, the best team had to win and that team was of Lifeline, Octane, and Gibralter. Gia's team came second. As skilled as she was, going against Lifeline was a difficult feat. Especially when Gibralter's shield dome gave the team ample cover for a quick pick-up. Not to mention the fact that Silva was nearly resistant to pain and was able to recover without the use of meds once he was picked up. A good heal will almost always out fight heavy damage. Once all the teams made it back onto the ship, Crypto approached Gia. "Good fight." he simply said. She smiled at him and returned the sentiment with a peck to his cheek. Crypto felt his face grow hot and he heard a snicker beside him. He found Loba, Bloodhound, Silva, and Elliott watching him with dopey smiles. Loba crossed her arms and eyed him in a way that meant she told him so. He ignored them in favor of getting patched up the rest of the way by the ship medics.

"You may have won this time, little girl, but I'd watch my back if I were you." Revenant threatened Gia at the other end of the ship. He bent down to her level and stared right into her eyes. But she didn't shy away from the simulacrum's threatening advances.

"The only thing I'll be watching is a replay of me finishing you." she shot at him. He simply returned her remark with a deep, throaty sound and then he stalked off.

That night, Elliott threw a small after-party at his place. There were drinks aplenty, more food to go around than anyone could think of, and of course the Champion squad. All complete with Silva begging to do some party tricks and doing them anyway regardless of how Elliott responded. Not as if Elliott would say no to his friend anyway. Everyone came out to the party. Even Dr. Nox and Revenant who hardly ever show their faces when not in the arena. Still, they kept to themselves and only participated when coaxed. Well, at least Dr. Nox did. Revenant just stalked everyone as per usual.

Gia tried to make rounds with everyone but it was becoming difficult with five of the Legends begging for her attention. Silva wanted her to watch him light himself on fire. Which he did and she watched on like she promised. "One of these days you're gonna get yourself killed, love." she said to him as she patted down the last of the flames burning away at his shorts.

"As if Death could catch me, chica bonita."

"Promise me you'll live to see tomorrow so we can get lunch."

"Absolutamente!" he grinned from ear to ear and then she walked off to sit and talk with Anita and Che. "She wants me." he said to Elliot. The latter simply rolled his eyes.

"She only said that because she doesn't want to watch you kill yourself tonight."

"She so wants me."

Gia chatted with the two women. Gia congratulated Che on her win today and the medic praised her back with a statement of her skill. "A couple close calls." the woman had said and Gia nodded in agreement.

"A toast to our Champion!" Anita held her glass in the air and the other two women clinked theirs together and took a large gulp of their drinks.

"Let's hang out this week. Go do something fun. My treat, of course as a present for our lovely Champion here." Gia offered the two women.

"I'm in the mood for a nice massage!" chirped said Champion. "It hurts having to carry 'round these children all the time." This made the other two laugh heartedly.

"I swear, some of these kids want to get hurt." commented Anita.

"Sounds an awful lot like those five over there." Gia pointed to the group huddled together and watching her.

"They just tryna impress ya. Problem is they don't know when to quit it."

"I think it's cute."

"Do ya like any of them?" Che asked and Gia sat back and thought about it for a second.

"They're certainly cute. And it's funny watching them flirt. But it's all just fun and games."

"You seeing anybody? They won't stop unless you tell them you're taken." said Anita matter-of-factly. She took another gulp of her drink.

"They don't need to stop. It's nothing serious. No one's getting hurt and I've already told them no so it's not like I'm leading them on. Let them dream a little."

"As long as ya okay with it."

"I am." she responded. "I'm also hungry. Be right back." she told the women and got up to grab some food that was piled up on a table. There was so much food here but she wouldn't be surprised if it all got eaten anyway. There were some hungry Legends here and -she's not going to name names- some of them can absolutely pack it away. Silva didn't count, however, because his metabolism was way faster than normal so it's never a surprise to see the green-haired junkie go up for fourths or even fifths. Gia grabbed a plate and filled it with foods that appealed to her. Nothing fancy but just interesting enough to get doubles of. As she was making her way back to Che and Anita, she spotted Wraith sitting alone and moping. Gia detoured over there and took a seat opposite of the woman.

"You doing okay?" she asked, making Wraith look up at her and force a smile.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"You sure? I didn't hit you too hard out there today, did I?" Gia attempted to lighten to mood. It worked to a degree; Wraith cracked a more genuine smile and gave a short chuckle.

"You got some good shots on me but that was pure luck." she said. "Good game today, by the way."

"You too. Do you wanna talk about what's bothering you? I'm all ears."

"Thanks but I'll be fine. It's nothing serious."

"Come find me if you ever need a shoulder." Gia offered the woman and was gifted a nod with a bigger smile in response. Gia placed a gentle hand against Wraith's cheek. "Smile for me some more. You've got a beautiful smile." she said and then got up and walked away.

"You don't think Wraith's into Gia too, do you?" Elliott asked the group as they all watched the exchange happen between said women. His eyes followed Gia for a moment as she walked away and then focused on the other. Even though Wraith looked away from the room, he could see her blushing furiously. And she tentatively placed a hand against the same cheek Gia did. Oh, she definitely had it bad for her.

"I wouldn't be surprised. I've caught her staring at my ass on more than one occasion." Loba snorted.

"Gia and Wraith aren't seeing each other already, are they?" Crypto asked everyone as if they had any more answers on her love life than he did. As predicted, everyone else shrugged or didn't answer at all. Elliott went back to watching Wraith's behavior. Everything that just happened in the last 10 seconds told him that Wraith hadn't expected Gia to show her that type of affection. If she's blushing that bad from a single touch, then that means Wraith is crushing real hard. She didn't act like that was a normal occurrence between the two of them. As if she could read Elliot's mind, Wraith turned her attention to the group of five that had been watching her. Elliott waved his hand over to her, silently telling her to join them. Wraith did a double take, making sure he was in fact motioning to her and when she realized he was, she made her way over to them.

"Aye, you into Gia?" Silva got right to the point and put Wraith on the spot. She sputtered.

"What? No. What makes you think that?"

"You do not have to lie." Bloodhound calmed her. "She is the reason we're all here." he motioned to the group.

"She's just a friend!" Wraith was quick to defend. "I mean she's pretty and all but nothing would ever be between us."

"So you admit you're into her." Loba accused and Wraith went silent. She blushed again.

"I mean, she's nice. And pretty. And she smells good. But so what."

"Listen, no one's poking fun at you. We all like her." Elliott came to her rescue.

"Yeah and we've got a competition going to see who she likes more!" said Silva.

"Why?"

"Because it's fun! And because we can hit on her without pressuring her to return the favor."

"So she knows you've all placed bets on her?" Wraith assumed questionably making the others stiffen and look to each other.

"Well." Crypto started. "She doesn't know about the competition but she knows we all are attracted to her."

"Isn't that kind of, I don't know, scummy?"

"We're not placing actual bets on her." Loba defended.

"Yeah it's just all bragging rights at the end of the day if one of us wins her over." said Elliott casually.

"Aye, you can get in on this if you want, chica, but we're all just having fun."

Wraith hesitated for a moment to think it over. This was scummy, right? Holding Gia as a prize? Surely she wouldn't appreciate it. But then Wraith looked over to Gia sitting with Che and Anita and noticed how beautiful she looked when she had her hair down. Wraith quickly touched her cheek again.

"What are the rules to this... competition?"

"None really. Try to woo her and, if you do, congrats. You won." said Elliot.

"So, are you in or are you out?" Crypto questioned.

"I'm in."

To say Gia was leading the pack was a bit of an understatement. Everywhere she went, her little lovesick posse was not too far behind. And it seemed to be growing by the day. Given that there were now six of them, it was more likely she was paired up with at least one of them during the Games. And when they were paired up together, it was very obvious they were trying to impress her. If she was ever downed, Wraith would stop whatever she's doing to portal her to safety even if she herself wasn't in a safe position. If she was out of ammo, Elliott dropped several stacks of whatever she needed even if he needed it himself. If she gave an order, Silva would absolutely follow it even if he had already jump padded a mile away. If she wanted the Peacekeeper, Loba would steal it for her. If Crypto found a high-level shield, he'd let her have it. If the team got split, Bloodhound would always follow her in case she ran into another team. And if their third got pinned, well Bloodhound wasn't leaving Gia's side.

Everyone else was starting to notice it more and more and they'd approach her about it. "It doesn't bother me." she'd say. And maybe it truly doesn't. Maybe she likes the constant attention she gets from the lovesick six. It certainly didn't hinder her performance in the arena. However it was becoming a bit annoying not being able to spend much time with anyone else without the group being a hare's breath away. But still she played along, laughed at their jokes, swooned over their flirtatious remarks, cheered them on as they showed off.

The Games continued nonetheless and even more Legends showed up; first there was weapons-expert Ramya Parekh, and then there was scientist Mary Somers, and with Dr. Somers came a new arena. Both of whom were very quick to pick up on the weird dynamic between Gia and six of the other Legends. "They're quite infatuated with you, darling." Dr. Somers had commented on day one of her being there. "Eh, they're all a bit weird." Ramya said nonchalantly.

Also Revenant and Elliott got to take over the games for awhile -again. Everyone hated when Revenant got control of the Games and this time around he's decided to switch it up a little bit. Elliott, on the other hand, took the opportunity to impress Gia. "Look at me! I'm so good they wanted to bring me back! The fans love me!" he said. His pride was short lived because the Apex hosts gave the fans quite the show when new events dropped and Elliott, Silva, Wraith, Bloodhound, and Loba all got makeovers -among other Legends, Gia included. All of them took their new looks on stage in an attempt to make Gia swoon. And as good as they all looked, Gia barely had the time of day to compliment them because Apex was whisking her away left and right to show off her new look. The fans loved her and demanded her attention. There was even a huge party for all of the Legends and multiple press corporations to advertise the new events. It was all just so overwhelming. Gia hated being center stage and the constant swarms of people drained her energy rather quickly. Her only reprieve was when one of her six admirers took all of the attention away from her as they did some sort of stunt to make her smile. It was mostly Silva donning his Octane ego that got the press's attention because who doesn't love to watch a daredevil jump out of the window? Nevertheless, she appreciated the breath of fresh air when the cameras weren't on her. She took the opportunity to hide away near the buffet table.

"Ya doing alright?" Che had asked from beside her, grabbing food for herself.

"I'm fine. Just need a break from all of this."

"Still not used to being a fan favorite, are ya?"

"I'm surprised I'm a favorite at all, to be honest. I know a lot of people like to go for the shiny, new toy but I'm no longer shiny or new. Ramya and Dr. Somers should be getting all of the attention."

"Are ya kidding me? Ya one of the best there is! Ya win more games than ya lose. Of course ya a favorite!" Che attempted to cheer her up.

"You win a lot of games too, but it seems like everyone wants to surround me."

"Well, I have been here longer than ya have. Give it time and they'll move on. They like ya because ya don't tell them anything. It keeps them interested."

"I'm sure you're right. But for now I just need a breather. I'll catch you later, Che." Gia bid farewell and walked off into the shadows, away from prying eyes and camera flashes. The combat medic made her way back to the center of the press where Elliott and Silva were waiting to talk to her with concerned looks in their eyes.

"Is Gia alright?" Elliott questioned her, making a move to go follow the object of his desires. Che put a hand against his chest to stop him.

"She don't wanna be bothered right now. She wants to be alone. So leave her alone."

"Is she hurt or something?" Silva asked worriedly.

"Nah, she just needs some fresh air. But she made it very clear she didn't want anyone to accompany her. So make sure ya tell the others to leave her be tonight."

"Can you at least tell us where's she's going in case she need someone."

"If she wants ya, she'll let ya know." was Che's response and then she walked away, hoping those idiots wouldn't bother Gia. She had to give the dopey idiots some credit though because all six of them never left the party. Despite their infatuation with the white-eyed Legend, they respected her privacy and gave her space when she asked for it. The press took notice of Gia's absence and tried to dig into everyone else for her whereabouts but no one relented and the press was forced to focus on the remaining Legends at the party.

Once the whole shebang was over and the press had made their leave, the six were becoming slightly worried at Gia's continued AWOL. She hadn't talked to anyone since she told Che she was leaving. No messages or calls. Nothing. Surely she was fine, though. Gia could absolutely hold her own if god forbid something were to happen, so the Legends weren't worried about finding her all beaten up on the Docks. But they were worried that something was still wrong and didn't feel comfortable letting her be alone for this long. It's been hours since anyone has seen her.

"I'm gonna go look for her." Elliott finally said. He was obviously agitated in his boots. The others weren't looking so hot either and they all agreed to split up and look for her. Problem was, there were far too many places she could possibly be and she hadn't answered anyone's messages so there wasn't even a general location they could pinpoint her at. They all checked her place in the compound housing the Legends, they checked all over Olympus, they checked Malta. They checked everywhere they could think of, but there was no sign of her and now they were well into the wee hours of the morning. Everyone was seriously starting to worry.

There was one final place Elliott could think of where she might possibly be, so he ran there as fast as he could to check. If she wasn't there, then he was starting to think he'd need to put a missing person's report on her. Surely Apex would find her quickly; they can't let one of their best fighters disappear. Especially not after a night of reporters fawning over her. Elliott charged towards the dropship housed at the very edge of Olympus. Getting through the security was rather easy, simply because the security had been disabled which was a relatively good sign in Elliott's eyes. She had to be here. None of the Apex crew were working at this time, as far as he was concerned. He let himself aboard the aircraft and he nearly collapsed onto the floor when he did.

Holy fucking shit, Gia was here. And she was with Revenant. And she was very clearly naked! Both of them were asleep -or, well, she was asleep and he was shut down, Elliott guessed. Did the robot sleep at all? They were laying all cuddled up to each other on one of the many plush seating areas with a blanket wrapped loosely around them. Gia's entire upper half was exposed to the warm air of the ship, but her dignity was covered just enough by the fact that she had her chest pressed up against Revenant's. The simulacrum kept a metal arm laying over her as they both slept, almost as if he was protecting her. She stirred lightly in her sleep and he responded by pulling her closer. Yet neither one of them woke up.

Elliott wasn't sure if he could scream, cry, runaway, or do all three. He wasn't gonna lie, his heart broke knowing that she would choose a robot over him. Even if his flirts were nothing more than a game, the fact that he was beat by a fucking robot of all things stung. Why didn't she say anything? Probably because no one would have believed her. I mean, Revenant of all people? That thing hated everyone and everything. And he's been known to threaten her on occasion. Was it all part of a rouse to keep people from guessing? Did the simulacrum have some sort of reputation to uphold? Or was this some sort of spontaneous thing? Either way, Elliott had a hard time picking his jaw up off the floor.

He managed to sneak out of the ship without waking either one of them and he exited the hangar. What was he supposed to tell the others? He didn't even know how to comprehend it himself! But he had to say something. Everyone else was still out looking for her. He managed to message everyone else but his words were short. "I found her. She's alright. Everyone stop worrying." he told them. Any responses he got back from them were ignored as he tried to calm his racing mind while he made his way back to his place.

This has been one hell of a night.

Elliott called an emergency meeting with the others the next afternoon once everyone was able to catch some well-needed sleep. Both Gia and Revenant had reappeared some time in the early morning, though no one was able to catch them together. Her usual chipper mood didn't do anything to quell Elliot's confused thoughts and he had half a mind to just probe her for answers to the questions he wasn't sure he wanted to even ask. What was he supposed to ask her? "How long have you been fucking Revenant? Were you ever gonna tell us or were you trying to toy with us? Does he even have a dick?" He wasn't hurt by the fact that she was seeing someone. Elliott knew she wasn't interested in any of the six of them. She made it very clear her no actually meant no. But Revenant?!

"What's so important you needed to gather all of us?" Crypto had asked. Elliott was tongue-tied. He just had to rip it off like a band-aid, right? That's what they all say, right?

"We need to call the competition off. Leave Gia alone." he managed to say.

"What? Why?" Wraith questioned with genuine confusion.

"She's seeing someone."

"How do you know?" Silva asked.

"I found them together last night."

"Are you sure?" Bloodhound asked and Elliott nodded.

"Very sure."

"Who is it? Another Legend?" Loba wondered. All eyes were on Elliott, waiting for him to spill the beans. Who could've possibly stolen Gia's heart? No one ever saw anyone else fawning over her and no one ever saw her eyes lingering for too long on a certain someone. She treated everyone the same. Perhaps it wasn't another Legend. Did she have a lover that came to surprise her at the party? Did a husband or wife come to cheer her on in the new events?

"It's... It's Revenant, okay!" he spat out and quite literally everyone else had gasped in surprise.

"Are you trying to make some sort of sick joke? Because if you are, I will throttle you!" Loba threatened.

"I'm serious! I found them together last night and she was very clearly naked in his arms."

"I don't believe it!" cried Wraith. There is no way someone as sweet as Gia would ever find companionship in someone like Revenant. It just couldn't be possible.

"Believe what you want but I'm backing out of this dumb competition! I don't want Revenant to snap my neck!" shouted Elliott and he threw his hands up in defeat. With a heavy sigh, he dropped his head to the table in a loud thump. A look of understanding passed from Legend to Legend. Everyone knew Revenant's behavior. He was cold and he was unforgiving. If what Elliott claimed was true, then there's no telling what the simulacrum would do to them if he found out they were all trying to get into her pants.

"What do we say to Gia? She'll know something's up." Silva asked aloud to the group.

"You don't have to say anything." that god damn voice said, making everyone jump in their seat and whip their heads around to peer at Gia timidly idling in the doorway. Her white eyes were glossed over in pity, and that hurt all the more.

"Were you standing there the whole time?" Elliott asked her.

"I heard shouting. I came at the part where you said you found us together last night."

"Oh." was all he said back.

"Listen, guys," she started, moving into the room and closer to them. "I know how much fun you guys were having with this competition thing going on between all of you. And I'm sorry this was how you found out about me and Revenant."

"Have you been seeing him this whole time?" Loba almost seethed.

"Yes." she flat out said. No beating around the bush. "I promise I'm not dating him to spite you, Loba. I started dating him long before I even knew of your history with him. I didn't do this to hurt you. And I'm sorry if it does hurt you." she apologized.

"No one's hurt that you're seeing him." claimed Silva.

"Speak for yourself!" Loba interrupted.

"We're just confused is all, chica."

"Loba, truly I'm very sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry to all of you. I'm sorry if I ever lead any of you on, but I honestly thought I had made it very clear that this was just a game."

"You did. We heard you loud and clear, hermosa. We were just trying to have a little fun with you."

"I know. And I'm sorry if this put a stop to your competition. Believe me when I say I enjoyed the attention. I truly did not intend for any of you to get hurt or upset. If it's Revenant you're hesitant of, I can give you my absolute word he will not harm any of you."

"I guess I just want to know how it happened." said Wraith. Gia attempted a jovial smile in her direction.

"There's so much to me you guys don't even know. So much that even Revenant doesn't know. I know it may seem strange but I promise you that he and I are not very different."

"Does he even.... um.. have a... you know?" Elliott then hesitantly questioned much to everyone else's embarrassment. They all shouted at him in distaste. "Oh come on! I know I'm not the only one who's curious!" he defended himself. Gia took in a deep, shuttering breath.

"Well... um... yes, he does."

"That's just weird. That is so weird." shuttered Silva. "Dios mío, eso es asqueroso. Can we please talk about something else?" he mumbled into his palms.

"Look, to make a long story short, all I can say is I'm sorry. From the absolute bottom of my heart, I am sorry. Regardless of where we all go from here, I just want you to know that you've all made me feel pretty, you've made me feel important, and you've made me feel loved. And I can't ever thank you enough for that. I just hope you all understand that I truly do love you too. Even if it's not the same way that you love me. I truly do love you."

"As long as you're happy." Crypto replied to her. As sad as he was to say it, he meant it for her.

"I am. I really am."

"I guess that's the end of that. It's been a good game, guys." Elliott directed towards the other five. "We're just not what you're looking for, I guess."

"But you're what someone is looking for." she consoled. "Elliot, you are the most handsome man I have ever met in my entire life." Gia confessed to him. To solidify her statement, she pressed a warm kiss to his cheek. Then she turned to the green-haired man beside him. "Silva, my life would be so incredibly boring without you in it." and she pressed a kiss to his cheek as well. "Loba, next time you see me in the arena, I want you to just step on me with those boots." she giggled and kissed her cheek as well. Despite Loba's best efforts, she cracked a real smile. "Bloodhound, you're an incredibly skilled hunter and I wish I could match up to you." Gia tentatively lifted her hands towards his face, waiting to see if he'd stop her from removing his face mask. He didn't. So she lifted the material from his face and pressed a kiss to his cheek as well before putting it back in place. "Crypto, don't ever let anyone underestimate you." a kiss to his cheek. "And of course, Wraith. I meant what I said before; you have a beautiful smile. Show it off some more." a kiss to her cheek. "I love you guys. And I hope you don't think any less of me."

"Of course not." said Bloodhound which made Gia's heart flutter with glee. She bid a final farewell to all of them before making her departure, still unsure if they have forgiven her for her secrets. The room fell quiet for several moments as they all processed what just happened. In the blink of an eye, everything just crumbled. No one was angry. They all still loved Gia. But now things were a little different. The competition was officially off the table now and the six Legends were unsure of where to go from here.

"She totally loves me more." Silva cracked the silence.

"Are you kidding? She kissed me first!"

"She kissed me longer." claimed Bloodhound. And then a full blown argument started between all of them over who Gia had more affection for.

Everything sort of calmed down after Gia had finally come clean. The six Legends that had been following her for months had backed off and everyone took notice of it. Che asked Gia what had happened between all of them and Gia had confessed that she had been seeing someone behind everyone's back. Though she didn't name names. Che wanted details of course but didn't press when Gia refused to give them. Even Pathfinder could sense that there was some tension in the room but, bless his heart, he had no idea how to make everyone feel better. He tried though. "Everything will be okay, friend." he told her and then gave her one of his famous high fives.

It's not like Gia didn't try to mend things with them. She still tried to talk to them but conversations became awkward because no one knew what to say anymore. All the flirting stopped and everyone was too scared to sit too close to her in fear of Revenant's wrath. But she did try. It's just that her efforts went nowhere.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Gia and Revenant were seen together out in public for the very first time. They officially outed themselves as a couple. Everyone was just minding their own business when Gia had appeared, dragging Revenant behind her with her hand interlaced in his. She pulled him into everyone's view and everyone turned to stare at them with wide eyes. She paid them no mind, but Revenant glared at anyone he connected eyes with. She pulled him down to sit with her and he did without complaint. She cuddled into his side and he tossed an arm across her shoulders, allowing her to get as close as possible. Everyone was watching, but it was Elliott, Silva, Loba, Crypto, Bloodhound, and Wraith that seemed to be the most in shock. What had finally changed her mind about keeping their relationship quiet, they didn't know. Everyone was just as confused as they were and those who were aware of the six's admiration for Gia all turned towards them in either pity or curiosity. Yet no one said a word. It felt like all eyes were burning into them. But thank god they all turned away at some point.

Gia proceeded to show Revenant something on her device and they both watched intently. He even scooted her into his lap so he could place his chin on her shoulder and watch. His arms wrapped around her midsection protectively and she cracked a smile. She looked so tiny in his lap.

"I can't watch this." Loba said and stormed off. She still hadn't come to terms with the fact that the woman she desired was in love with the demon she wanted to murder.

"Does anyone else feel nauseous or is it just me?" Wraith asked, turning away from the loving couple.

"No, I feel it too." Elliott confessed.

"Aye."

"It may hurt now, but she is a grown woman who has made her decision and we must respect that. We'll get over it eventually." Bloodhound told the group.

"Just because we respect it doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt, compadre." retorted Silva.

"You think they'll stay together?" Crypto then asked and everyone looked back to Gia still cuddled in Revenant's metallic lap. Elliott watched carefully as every twitch of Revenant's fingers only seemed to hold her closer to his chest. His touched appeared to be gentle and Gia had made herself comfortable in his embrace. She smiled at her device and carefully ran her fingertips along the build of his arms. He must've made some sort of noise because she nudged her cheek against his metal face plating. When he turned to look at her, she looked back and pressed her forehead to his. They both closed their eyes and Elliott assumed that was their version of a kiss considering he didn't have any lips -or even a moveable jaw for that matter. And Elliott could tell that she was genuinely happy.

"Yeah. I think so."

[seokiloquy]

Wood of Nine - Suna Rintarou

AU: Mythical Hybrid (?)

Requested

Tags/Warnings: GN!Reader, uhhhhh nothing else?

Word Count: 2.4K

The men scattered, running in different directions, slight screams escaping their mouths as they sprinted away. One tripped over a root, abandoned by his friends and scrambled to his feet to follow their retreating steps.

Tall trees surround every visible stretch of land, reaching so high that it turned the sky green. The forest floor was uneven, rock and moss-covered with no discernable beaten path.

You sighed, watching the last man flee with a horrified scream of "nine" echoing behind him.

With a pinched brow, your eyes followed him through the dense trees until you couldn’t see him any longer before looking at your claws hands, nails sharp and ready for action after an unknown amount of time spent waiting.

"Nine?" You muttered, feeling your single white tail whip behind you in a swaying motion.

You had opened your eyes that morning to light chirps and rustling leaves, a welcoming atmosphere to most had you not realized that you were sitting in a dark wooden crate in the middle of nowhere. It was a quick, unwelcome conclusion that you had come to.

They shipped you off.

After years of worship and praise, people on their knees in your presence, feeding you, caring for you as they wished for good luck and fortune. Years of care for your small group of people, and they shipped you off in your sleep.

You looked up from your hands and picked your claws at the bark of a tree, wincing at the feeling of the hardwood lifting the sharpened nail from your skin. A huff pushed its way out of your chest and you bent your knees to sit back down onto the collapsed wooden crate that you were provided. You delicately patted the lightweight clothes that you had been dressed in, picking at loose threads and groaning at the poor quality.

As the sky turned dark and the air became cold, you continued to sit, back straight and chin held up as you watched the once dull now bioluminescent plants and creatures appear around you. The sight, though new and fascinating to your sheltered eyes, didn't keep you from leaving the wooden floor you sat on.

The fluffy, well-groomed ears that sat atop your head twitched with every crack and scuff you heard in the trees. You trail unconsciously moved to wrap around your side and onto your lap, where you twisted the fire between the pads of your fingers.

A sudden growl from behind you sent shivers up your spine, joining the cold air in challenging your will. Every muscle in your body tightened, making you vibrate slightly as you shut your eyes. You gripped the ends of your tail tightly as you sat still, breaths slowly accelerating. You flinched slightly as a wet, rough textured pad hitting the back of your neck, puffing out warm air before creating audible sniffs.

You listened as the creature slowly made its way around you, clawed paws clicking against the hardwood that you sat on. When you heard it’s fur fit the wooden plate, you squinted an eye open, catching sight of its proud figure sitting before you.

“Beast. What do you want?”

Wide back eyes stared directly into you, much more still than you could force yourself to be in that moment. The unfamiliar creature let out a gentle chuff and bob it’s head in your direction. 

“I apologize, but I don’t understand.” You watched the creature’s orange fur ruffled with the light breeze and it closed its eyes for a moment before staring back at you. Your tail twitched. “Well, may I ask for your purpose here?”

You waited for it to speak, give you well wishes and kind recognitions, maybe lick at your claws. It sat for a moment, before getting on all fours and walking behind you. You closed your eyes at the action, sighing, and remaining still in your makeshift seat.

You heard a growl, quickly followed by a choking hold pulling at the back of your ratty tunic. You sputtered, gasping in a gulp of air, and rose to your feet to see the black-tipped eared creature staring back at you.

“Ah, I see. You didn’t need to pull on me like a kit.”

The creature chuffed again, scoffing as it began to walk off it’s black dipped paws into the forest. You bit your tongue and scrunched your nose as you followed it deeper into the glowing woods. 

Moss squished underneath your toes and the hard texture of fallen branches and pebbles dug into the soft pads of your feet. The creature was more elegant, prancing over each piece element a few steps ahead of you as you slowly stumbled behind. You tripped, wincing as you massaged your overworked food, only to look up and find the creature burrowing itself into a small cave opening. 

You shivered as a warm breeze grazed over your shoulder. “Hey, don’t leave me behind.”

“Don’t mind her, little lagopus. She has to care for her young.” The warm air on your neck moved quicker. 

Shoulder’s hiking up, you stepped forward and spun around on a piece of soft moss. The man rose from his slight hunch, angling his head down to show you the sharp features of his face in the dim plant-light. He wore a dead expression, brow relaxed and eyelids drooped. His mouth created a shallow triangle whose points traced an invisible line to the sharp angles of his jaw. On the line of his cheekbones leading to the tip of his nose was discolouration, creating a slightly darker shade on the upper half of his face like a mask, which easily blended into his hair that swooped up into gentle points on the sides of his head that nearly made his straight furred ears blend in.

His arms around his torso to his back, where he easily lead your attention off of the draping curves of his beautifully stitched robe to the long collection of grey tails with white tips and hints of orange.

You could feel the strain in your forehead as your eyebrows tried to meet your hairline. “Nine,” you whispered, echoing the screams you heard.

His brow twitched upward and his head tilted, tails flicking curiously “You’ve heard of me? That’s surprising considering your sheltered upbringing.”

“Only in passing, only today. Upbringing?”

“Protected by the company of those filthy humans of course.”

He dropped his hands to his side before raising them up, placing one long-fingered hand onto your shoulder and the other gesturing to a small, human-shaped opening in the side of a grotesquely large tree.

“I wouldn’t say filthy, I was worshipped. Why is that tree so wide? And tall?”

“It’s in the centre of the forest. I requested for you to be sent directly here, but those humans were too fearful I’m afraid. Come in, I’ll make tea.” He gestured you through the wooden door, closing it behind him as he entered. “And as for being worshipped, they thought you a pompous feline.”

The inside of the tree was hollowed out, the same glowing plants from outside decorated the ceiling to light up the open space. You noticed a carved out staircase across from the entrance, at the back, between the kitchen and what appeared to be a mixture of a workshop, study and lounge with a variety of trinkets scattered around. 

The nine-tailed man nodded to a seat for you to occupy as he fiddled with some flint in his hands.

“Feline? You say that as if they made an incorrect assessment.”

“I am,” he said, spinning on the heel of his calloused foot, two cups of tea in hand. “But feel free to try and prove me wrong. Though I’m sure their readiness to throw you out was proof enough.” A small fang peeked out from under his top lip at the slightest twitch of visible emotion. 

“Alright. I’m no cat. Then what am I?”

“Vulpes of course, lagopus no less.”

You took the mug from his hand, claw gently dragging against the back of it. He reciprocated by teasingly flicking the rim with his own. It was warm, much warmer than the cold outside air. You felt yourself warming up as you took a sip. “Enlighten me. What is that and how did they figure it out?”

“A white fox. How they figured it out though, I’m not sure. I was told by an excited pair of travellers that the nearby village was planning to eliminate their deity. Couldn’t let that happen, now could I?” He sipped on his tea, leaning his elbows on the table as he sat across from you.

You set your mug down, a rod shooting through to your spine as you looked into his golden eyes. “Eliminate? That’s typically a kind way to say execute, murder.”

“That it is. I chose not to risk it and asked those kind travellers to use their crows to deliver a letter for me. It was kind of them to offer their service.” He took a deep breath in. “Not that they had a choice, they are walking through my forest after all.”

You studied his calculated movements, sipping on your tea. “May I ask your name, forest owner?”

He huffed through his nose in a silent chuckle. “Rintarou, last of Suna. And yours?”

“(Y/N), only. No surname was given to me. But Suna? No wonder you’re in charge of the forest, your whole lineage is made up of protectors, the reliable.”

Suna hummed, “And how are you aware of that information when you seem so oblivious to everything else.”

“I read it in a book once. Well, a small girl read it to me.”

“To you.”

“You should know that cats are seen as cunning and wise to humans. They never let me read, or even learn how to. They thought I knew everything there was to know. I suppose that led them to find out that I was not a feline, like we all believed I was,” you yawned, setting the nearly empty cup on the table. “What we all thought I was.”

Suna peered out one of his hollow windows to the darkness outside his home. “It’s rather late. I have a second cot for you to use. Let’s head upstairs.” He watched as you took a final gulp of tea before setting both mugs to the side of his kitchen counter.

The solid steps didn’t creak as he led you up them, before walking into the similarly sized room and giving you the chance to observe it all. The cots, that he has quickly gone to tidying, were pushed against one wall, pillows next to each other as the foot of them pointed in opposite directions. On the opposite end of the room, similar to the one below, was what seemed to be a round space, tall shelves lining the walls with well-handled books filling each open space.

You walked over, eyes skimming over the letters on the spines as you tried to make out their titles.

“I can teach you. To read that is. A lot of those books are informative, but quite a few are of fictional variety if you so please in the future.”

You looked over your shoulder, seeing Suna look up at you in question as he sat down on what you assumed to be his cot. Giving one last glance to the books, you walked to the empty cot, pulling the blanket over your legs and setting your head on the fluffed pillow. Suna leaned, resting a hand above your pillow, on the floor, to carry his weight. You looked up at his glowing eyes.

“Would you be so kind to do that?”

“Of course. Now rest, it’s been a stressful day.”

With the rising sun came howls of anger and metal pots smashing together. You sat up from your cot, twisting around to see Suna’s empty bed left with an unkept blanket crumpled to the side. You yawned, tail flicking as you stretched before your twitching ears picked up on the ruckus outside. You crawled to the window, squinting as the sunlight tried to burn into your eyes.

“Bring the fowl beast out!” the crowd jeered. 

You caught a glance and Suna’s slouched figure standing a few metres before the door, hands raised in a sort of mock surrender. As your eyes began to adjust and the blood began running through your ears in waves you started to put together the familiar faces in the crowd. You strangled a gasp before ducking beneath the window sill.

“Now, now. No reason to start a riot. That beast you speak of is no longer here, it was a very big meal I must say, but if you start acting up I might be so inclined to make room in my stomach for more.”

The crowd seemed to choke.

“So, if that sways you, would you be so kind to remove that blade away from my neck? It’s rusty and clashes with my fur.”

You sit silently, legs pulled as close to your chest as you were able, with your clawed hands over your mouth.

A man’s voice cracked through the silence, “Meal? You expect us to believe you ate your own kind? Preposterous!”

The lilt that poured from Suna’s voice made the smirk he wore paint the air. “What’s preposterous is that you wouldn’t believe a beast to do such a thing.” There was silence. “I suggest you run now. This is my forest after all.”

As soon as his voice stopped, a chorus of growls began to erupt from the hidden corners of the forest. You rolled onto your knees to take a look, just in time to catch the horrified faces your old people wore before they ran away, screams of ‘nine’ following them.

Suna was quick to enter his home again, greeted with an amused chuckle coming down the stairs.

“Hmm human flesh, how delectable,” you crooned before falling into another laugh, tail swishing and ears pinned back.

“Be careful there Lagopus, I still haven’t had much in terms of lunch.” He paced towards his kitchen. “Care to join me?”

You sat on the same wooden chair from the night before. “So long as I am not on the plate, yes.”

….At some point while writing this, Suna reminded me of Shrek…. I’m sorry - Bacon

Posted: 20/12/2020

[project-paranoia]

Live Watch: Thousand Autumns Episode One

Oh wow someone got the good... guzheng? Something in that family of instruments anyway. They got the good music for that. And the animation is beautiful and beautifully synchronised to the clip excerpts.

And the imagery! The opening with the symbol of the Dao, and then main character number 1, Shen Qiao, all in white, in a fantastically and subtly ornamented outfit - I love the textures of the cloth they put in on the animation here, cloth and clothes textures are so easy to get wrong and they’ve done it beautifully here. I think this is supposed to be Shen Qiao’s original sect leader/zhangjiao outfit and he looks properly leaderly in it.

And this, followed by a closeup of Yan Wushi’s hand holding the ring of contention, and then Yan Wushi himself, very handsomely rendered in 3d animation - and again I have to voice my appreciation of the cloth textures. That’s actual subtly 3d brocade textures they’re rendering there, with the correct flow for how cloth hangs on the body, and the correct variances of light on the areas with thicker brocade and it is, frankly, very impressive. And they didn’t lose colour saturation doing it either, making that purple robe look suitably luxurious. The shiny hair ornament and one sidebang in white is a nice touch as well. As are the hints they set right in the opening that Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi are ... opposites, and complements, linking them back to the Yin/Yang balance of the symbol of the Dao.

So much love for this opening song it’s so good. Also going to be a pain to translate accurately with a proper sense of the poetry of it, but so good.

Alright episode 1 proper, 风雨欲来. The coming of the wind and rain, literally, I think. Maybe even the foreboding or oncoming storm, if you’re going for the feel of the term instead of literal translation. Oh. Oh that opening montage with the bird’s eye view and the fog and the high mountains - I was so taken by this scenery I sketched and tried to paint it at least 3 times. It’s a very moving shot. Also very much in the grand tradition of xianxia/wuxia, and also, even without a word, hinting at the traditional stance of the Mt Xuandu sect - to 出世， to remove themselves from the world to cultivate in the seclusion and clarity of the literal peaks above the clouds and dust of the world.

Oh. Oh that opening shot. The challenge to combat by Kunye to Shen Qiao. The.. subtle and ornate embroidery and brocade and patterning on Shen Qiao’s sect leader robes is so awesome. The wave motifs repeated in the 3 layers of robes, even on the hair ornament/冠 in his hair, the resolute look on his face! The closeup shot of the 山河同悲 sword - and what a name for it. A sword named for, if I may be excused poetry in translation - compassion and pity and fellow feeling for the griefs and pains and trials of the world as encompassed by the mountains and rivers - what a blade, and what a name, and what a bearer that would be worthy of it. A very good hint, at the kind of person Shen Qiao is, even before they have him open his mouth.

The contrasting costuming decision for Kunye et al is also very nice, hinting at the cultural differences between, say, the peoples that live on the central plains and the more nomadic groups living on less kindly land, shown in the different materials available/preferred - leather, furs, etc  vs cloth, silk, cotton etc

And the fight choreography! So nice! The 3d animation works really well here,in that there’s no limitation to the capabilities of human bodies and it’s possible to really show in the visual medium the knock out drag down fight between 2 people whose martial - and quasi magical - capabilities are already at potentially mountain splitting levels. Not to mention also, showing that a Shen Qiao who isn’t being handicapped by sabotage... really can wipe the floor with Kunye if he wants to. And then, of course, once the fight gets to Half-step Peak and they’re out of sight of inconvenient witnesses, the signal for the ambush. And then the effects of the sabotage take hold.

Ah, flashback to 20 years ago, to provide the audience with the world info we need to understand the rest of the story. Not to mention also informing us why Hulugu would even bother. Or why Kunye coming in to challege Shen Qiao is so narratively important. And also introducing the ring that so many would fight over later.

Yan Wushi’s character introduction.. is quite something. As is Yu Shengyan’s. Ah, Shizun, congratulations on exiting your 10 year cultivation seclusion, would you like the highlights on the changes in the world in the past 10 years? But also a good show of character, because they have him not even looking at Yu Shengyan, but looking away in the distance, and telling him to only tell the most important bits, he’s not interested in useless words. Also serves as a nice introduction to some people who’ll be important later, and giving us a time marker for when Shen Qiao ascended to the sect leader post - 5 years ago, after the death of his shizun Qi Fengge. Ah Yan Wushi, your characteristically arrogant attitude - aside from Qi Fengge, who in life was worthy of being the first among all the wuxia world, the rest are not worth even mentioning. And here too a little hint that Yan Wushi might care a little bit in some way for those who are his, including his disciples - He tells Yu Shengyan that this location, this Half Step Peak that they’re at, because of its physical characteristics, is good for him to cultivate to the next level of understanding/enlightenment of the martial arts used by Huanyue Sect.

I love it whenever they hint that the more... developed characters whose martial arts are very good have improved senses. A little flow of blood in the water, Yu Shengyan notices something is wrong, looks at his shizun, and receives a nod of affirmation that he perceived correctly and should take action. And then after that, they come upon a body of one of the Mt Xuandu disciples, and Yan Wushi’s verbal remark that today, Mt Xuandu is troubled and not pure and clean. And then Shen Qiao literally falls from the cliff top - and the pan up makes it very clear that for most people, this is a lethal fall.

And then the surviving ambushers attempt to finish the job when Yu Shengyan checks whether Shen Qiao is still alive... and Yan Wushi takes the training opportunity when he sees it, and tells his disciple to use his strongest techniques to take on the remaining assassins. And then, when Yu Shengyan can't quite wipe the floor with them... criticizes his lack of growth, as might be expected of Yan Wushi, and steps in to really wipe the floor with the assassins, as might not be expected of Yan Wushi. Also doubles as a really nice display to the audience of his level of strength. In fact.. listening to the voice, I think one of those assassins appears, unhidden, in later episodes. Heh. Plot continuity, a nice one. As are the assassins having common sense, recognising Yan Wushi's infamous technique, and running before they're cut down.

Ahahahaha yes Yu Shengyan, your shizun really had you pick that fight for training, and he's really about to pick up Shen Qiao and have him rescued on a whim. Also nice to review, on rewatch for the details, that part of this whim is perhaps curiousity as to Shen Qiao's ability to survive and/or recover, as hinted by the thin thread of strength provided by the Zhuyang Ce, that Yan Wushi identifies as the thin strength keeping him alive, despite the aforementioned lethal fall.

Heh. Yu Shengyan – and maybe Huanyue Sect's other job – information gatherers aka spies.

Ah, Yan Wushi, you really are fascinated by people's reactions under stress, aren't you.

Shen Qiao awakens! Oof, the amount of damage – can't see, amnesia – damaged or even broken meridians – the donghua doesn't mention how much time passes, but given that Yu Shengyan mentions that Shen Qiao's broken bones have only just finished healing – could not have been a matter of days. Weeks, maybe even a month, minimum. Unless Yu Shengyan meant that the bones have only just been set – which could mean a few days. And then the mindscrew from Yan Wushi, telling poor amnesiac Shen Qiao that, yes, your name is Shen Qiao, oh, and you are one of my disciples from Huanyue Sect! Someone sure is hasty to put his poke the injured person plans into action! Ah Yan Wushi, if you could please give Shen Qiao a break, he just had a near death experience! But also – the scope of the injuries – yes, it benefits Yan Wushi's plotting but also – Shen Qiao was injured beyond the scope of ordinary medicine? Yu Shengyan has to be stationed to basically care for him until he is able to awaken – and presumably recover – appropriately!

Alright, time marker, 3 months after previous events.. okay. Shen Qiao can walk, some, though the animators were careful to make it a clearly pained walk, in comparison to how he was moving pre-Kunye fight. And then of course the blindness, which may also explain how they've animated him moving with more cautious steps. And the coughing, and the eyes that can't focus – all in all, a detailed and careful show of how badly injured Shen Qiao still is. Can't help sniggering at every 'shidi' I'm hearing him say though. And Yu Shengyan... yes, really, even though you and your shizun can't quite believe it, there really is a person this kind and considerate of other people.

The appearance of the weiqi board motif! Strategy, and planning, and part of the arts of the refined gentlemen..and the hint of how Shen Qiao is perceiving/visualising the input that he hears, since he can't see right now. And the hint that he might be using qi to help sort through what he hears – well enough that he can identify it's a weiqi board, and even the piece being placed. Very Awesome. Especially when they show Yan Wushi possibly testing Shen Qiao's capability to perceive the world around him by hesitating and purposely not putting down his piece.. and Shen Qiao very naturally picking up the piece – black, the correct colour and the one Yan Wushi was about to play – and putting it in the correct position on the board that Yan Wushi was about to place. Is it any wonder that the next thing Yan Wushi checks is the state of his recovery?

And then we have Yan Wushi's characteristic multipronged planning – creating trouble for Hehuan sect, training for Yu Shengyan, testing opportunity for Shen Qiao. Very excellent, any and every outcome has benefit to Yan Wushi.

Ah the encounter at the medicine shop. Hm. Okay, the sharing of the medicine is clearly a hint to Yan Ziwen of some kind that he and his should be especially cautious tonight, perhaps even to run for their lives tonight. Though it's maybe a hint in the actions, and not the words, because the words don't sound suspicious at all. Neither do the actions, if you were watching as a observer and didn't know Yan Ziwen's paranoid character – a blind person would unsurprisingly wish to be extra careful where they put their hands. And at night, on the attack... for all that Shen Qiao can't quite see, and is currently relying on the rest of his senses... he can tell that something's off about Yu Shengyan's actions. And then... Shen Qiao remembers... the sword, and what Qi Fengge taught him. And then the confrontation, and the near strangulation by Yan Wushi... Shen Qiao has such a nice literary register to his speech. Four word phrases even under severe near strangled stress, with the right philosophical meaning to make his point to Yan Wushi. And then the reveal of Yan Wushi's plotting. Very nicely done.

And now, the first of Yan Wushi's many many invitations to Shen Qiao to forsake his daoist path and join Yan Wushi's ... evil sect is not the right word. Demonic path is technically correct but has moral overtones that don't fit. Join Yan Wushi's cultivation path, maybe. Join and get bloody revenge on everyone who's wronged Shen Qiao – and already there are so many of them. And we the audience wonder for half a second – is he going to do it? Is this going to be a revenge story? And Shen Qiao flat out refuses in words, in the first of many times. And then Shen Qiao walks away from Yan Wushi. Here the animation is a delight again – the audience gets to see the little micro expressions that flit across – he's actually walking away?! And then Yan Wushi does his dramatic gifting of the bamboo stick. And too, a few seconds later, the reveal of their movements being spied on by Duan Wenyang, and Yu Shengyan's orders to continue searching for .. something. Ah, the plotting in Thousand Autumns. Always a delight.

[niseamstories]

Tl;dr: The heavily revised physical edition Dreams of the Dying, my novel set in the Enderal universe, is now available for pre-order via Amazon via my website. Special early bird prices are $32.99 for the hardcover with an illustrated appendix, $12.99 for the paperback, and $2.99 for the eBook. It’s a prequel featuring Jespar, but, for reasons outlined below, opens up a new canon. Amazon.de has yet to pick up the listing for the physical editions, but they are incredibly slow—I’m working to get that done.

Hey guys,

This is Nicolas, the writer of Enderal speaking. As some of you may know, I’ve been working on an Enderal novel, Dreams of the Dying. First released as a web version, I spent the past year completely rewriting and improving the book, adding and removing chapters, revising characters arcs, and improving plotting, worldbuilding, and style. In total, I rewrote the web edition three times from cover to cover. Well, it’s finally time: Dreams of the Dying is now available for pre-order on Amazon!

The English version of Dreams of the Dying will release on October 20. A German (and perhaps Russian) translation will follow as soon as possible.

Please note that this is a rendering and that the actual hardcover looks slightly different, with same format but a matte dust jacket and a matte, laminated case. A big shoutout to Dominik Derow for the cover artwork, Johanna Krünes for her cover design, and Joyce, for her tips, patience, and help with this product shot.

Jaaros Oonai, magnate, visionary, and master of coin, doesn’t muse about whether the glass is half empty or half full—only about ways to fill it.

Jespar Dal’Varek, drifter, mercenary, and master of avoidance, doesn’t muse at all. He’d rather just drink the damn wine.

Two lives that could not be more different intertwine when a strange contract leads Jespar to the tropical island empire of Kilay, the wealthiest nation of the Civilized World.

The mission turns out to be as bizarre as it is lucrative: Jaaros Oonai, the country’s merchant king, knows something that could stop a catastrophe, but he has fallen into an inexplicable coma. Together with an ex-priestess and a psychic, Jespar must enter Oonai’s dreams and find this secret.

What should have been a fresh start rapidly turns into a nightmare, as Jespar slides into a spiral of disturbing dreams, political intrigue, and clashing ideals, where not only the fate of Kilay but his own sanity are at stake. It’s not long before he learns that only a spider’s thread divides the sleeping and the awoken.

And that there’s no greater enemy than one’s own mind.

The hardcover edition comes with an appendix that includes additional lore, such as an illustrated bestiary, a guide to Kilayan fashion, illustrations of the (re-envisioned) seven Light-Born, a short guide to the Makehu language, and much more.

Even though Dreams could be considered a prequel, I didn’t write this as an expansion or fan service but rather as my debut, and a book that stands on its own. This edition differs vastly from the web version, and, though it is up to you to judge, I’m a million times happier with it.

If you’re on the fence and would like to wait for reviews—here’s hoping I get enough—I fully understand. However, if you would buy the novel, you’d do me a great favor if you considered pre-ordering. One of the biggest challenges as an indie author is exposure; since Amazon registers all pre-orders as Day 1 sales, a lot of Day 1 sales would give me a chance to climb in the novel’s category and boost visibility for readers outside the Enderal community. To make this worth it to you, the book will sell for a special early bird price of $32.99 for the hardcover with the illustrated appendix, $12.99 for the paperback, and $2.99 for the eBook, as opposed to $37, $16, and $5. Just follow the link to my website and click pre-order—it will take you right to your local Amazon marketplace.

Unfortunately, Amazon.de has yet to pick up the listing for the physical editions, but they are incredibly slow—I’m working to get that done.

I’m aware the hardcover is in the upper price range, but it uses the best materials, and the illustrated appendix cost a lot to produce. It’s also the only edition where I make a more solid revenue, so see it as a way to support my work, if you wish.

If you’re a patron and pledged $110 or more since October 2018, I’ll be in touch a few weeks before launch to send out your signed hardcover copy right away. Thanks again for your support, Dreams became a far pricier project than I anticipated, and your patronage helped me immensely in covering the cost.

Lastly, a word of warning before you pre-order: For the paperback edition, I took the drastic step to separate Dreams and all future Enderal novels from the game canon. There are two good reasons for this. First, the Vyn games were created over 17 years, the earliest one being Myar Aranath in 2003. Fascinating as this idea may be, it also means that the lore of the Vyn universe was created by a myriad of different authors (the latest and current one being me when I joined the team in 2011). As a result of this, the lore of Vyn has always felt a little disjointed and inconsistent; I initially took these differences as challenges to conquer, but the longer I wrote, the more I realized how much these inconsistencies bothered me and how hard they made it to write the story and the universe I envisioned. Let me assure you that this decision wasn’t easy and does not reflect a lack of appreciation for the work of the previous workers. I stayed faithful to the lore whenever possible.

The second reason is a trickier one: Jespar. This character has been in my mind for nine years now, and I love him with all my heart. Still, the more I immersed myself in the story of Dreams, the more I grew aware of how incredibly constraining it was to write a story where the end is already written; because Jespar is alive in 8234 a. St. (1234 P.L. in new canon lore), you all know he will never be in real danger. Again, there is undoubtedly an intriguing challenge to writing such a “safe” story, but—similar to the lore, I increasingly felt like I was writing with fetters on. 

So, what does this mean? Aside from the fact that anything can now happen, the consequences aren’t that drastic. Enderal is still Enderal, and Jespar is still Jespar, albeit thirteen years younger and at another point in his life. I changed and expanded details about his backstory, but his essential conflicts are still the same, only refined. Major changes include modifications to the Light-Born (their aspects, how they came to be, when and how they disappeared, and the societal consequences of that disappearance), the time frame of the different eras, and a complete rework of the magic system. Minor changes include dates, the spelling of names and locations (Kilay, not Kilé), and others details I tweaked for consistency and worldbuilding coherence.

And that’s about it. I’m aware and grateful for the love many of you have for this world, and believe me, I did my best to honor it; I just realized I cannot tell a good story with one arm tied behind my back. If it’s any solace, I can promise you that new book canon is ironclad – I’m pathologically obsessive about consistency and cohesive worldbuilding, but without a solid framework, that’s a recipe for frustration and disaster. See it as a different but nearby eventuality: details and fates may differ, but the soul of the world remains the same.

If all that didn’t scare you off, pre-order away! I also set up a Goodreads page for the book, so you can add it to your To-Be-Reads or even recommend it to your friends – this is an indie project by all means, so I’m grateful for every bit of support. Please keep in mind that the Goodreads is for the revised edition, not the web edition, so if you’re planning to leave a low rating, I’d be grateful if you waited to read the actual book in October 20. It’s a different experience.

Last but not least, a big thank you to everyone who supported me on Patreon, created fanart for Enderal, or just let me know they enjoyed this game and were looking forward to the novel. This novel was meant to be a 6-month stint but, boy, did it turn into something more. It sounds sentimental, but this last year has been rough personally, and your support and encouragement kept me going.

I hope this story will live up to your expectations.

Best,

Nicolas

Dreams of the Dying (Revised Edition) on Goodreads

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[virtueangel]

limitless.

chapter five.

wc: 2,792. original publish date: october 8, 2020. 

JFK sits up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the back of his wrist before subjecting himself to the daylight's chemical burn. He swallows, his tongue rolling around in the stale taste of his mouth. He blinks, the artificial buzz of the unwelcome morning light hitting the backs of his eyes. Kennedy blinks more vigorously until the fog is out of view and he can fully open his lids against the harsh light.

Van Gogh is still asleep on the other bed. He's turned away from Kennedy, a pillow bunched up in his arms and pulled against his chest. The bandage is slipping off of his head, his fiery hair consuming it. JFK looks away. He knows Van Gogh is self-conscious about his ear stub. His sketchbook sits at the foot of the bed, only its corner poking out from beneath Kennedy's old letterman jacket.

JFK moves the jacket aside. He's secretly always been curious about what's inside the journal, but Van Gogh's never actually shown him anything in it. Sometimes Kennedy will see him drawing during lunch, sitting at a table in the back of the cafeteria all by himself, with an earbud in and a pencil gripped tightly as he slouches over the book. JFK tries to sneak up behind him, to watch him draw without his knowledge, but Van Gogh's always been high strung and notices Kennedy before he can even catch a glimpse of the sketchbook.

The sketchbook isn't closed. In fact, it's open to the very page that Van Gogh had been working on last night before falling asleep. There, in dull, shiny graphite, is the outline of a sixteen-year-old boy. But it isn't just any sixteen-year-old boy -- it's JFK. His grey Harvard t-shirt is falling down his neck to expose his collarbones and there are heavy bags beneath his tired eyes. He's caught in motion in the drawing -- his hand is at his forehead, busy pushing back the floppy mound of brown hair that falls over his eyes when he doesn't have any hair gel to keep it in place. Kennedy hadn't noticed Gogh drawing last night -- he must've been too tired to register the sound of the pencil scratching the paper or the way Van Gogh had been hunched over something, an eager expression lighting up his face. Kennedy doesn't know what to make of the drawing -- should he be flattered or offended that it's of him?

The bedsheets start to rustle and JFK hastily hides the sketchbook underneath the letterman jacket again. He crosses the room to the wall with the window on it and kneels down next to the space heater, trying to make himself look busy as Van Gogh sits up in bed. Kennedy can see the boy out of the corner of his eye: the first thing he does, even before rubbing his eyes, is adjust the loose white bandage around his head. He curses to himself under his breath. He'll have to switch it out.

Van Gogh finally registers JFK sitting on the floor and jumps a little bit, almost like he'd forgotten he had company at all.

"Good morning," JFK says, stepping away from the space heater.

"Hey," Van Gogh yawns, his throat scratchy with sleep.

"Sleep okay?" Kennedy asks with a smile. He chooses to be flattered by his best friend's drawing.

"No," he replies in his cutting-edge voice.

JFK laughs goodheartedly. "Me neither."

"It was too cold," Van Gogh continues. "My collarbones are all tight and achey. I should've brought more clothes to sleep in." He flips the comforter off of himself and swings his bare knees over the side of his bed. He'd only slept in his boxers and a t-shirt because he'd forgotten to pack real pyjamas. Jeans aren't appropriate sleeping attire, by any means.

"Are you cold now?" JFK snickers, eyeing the boy's pale legs.

He's too tired to be embarrassed by the boy's scrutiny. "A little."

"Put on my sweater. It'll cover your legs."

"But then won't you be cold?" Van Gogh asks, crossing the room to where the boy's sweater sits at the foot of his bed.

Kennedy shrugs. "I run hot."

Van Gogh stops to give him a once-over. He smirks. "I can tell." He picks Kennedy's red and white striped sweater up off of the bed and pulls it over his head. JFK's cheeks dust pink when he realises he'd been watching, his jaw slack and his eyes wide. Van Gogh, thankfully, doesn't notice.

"What's the plan for today?" He asks, walking into the bathroom. He leaves the door open as he splashes water onto his face, but pushes it closed once it's time to switch out his bandages.

"I say we should go to that creepy town," Kennedy calls back, raising his voice to carry it through the bathroom door.

"Marshtown?" Van Gogh clarifies.

Kennedy nods.

"What?" Gogh asks from the bathroom.

JFK giggles at himself, feeling stupid. "I nodded. Yes, Marshtown."

"What do they even have there?" Van Gogh opens the bathroom door again. His bandages are violently white. He squeezes some paste onto his toothbrush and runs it under the water from the faucet before sticking it into his mouth.

"Fog?"

Van Gogh spits. "It could be kind of fun..."

"Really?"

Van Gogh watches himself in the mirror, his quicksand brown eyes staring back at him. He shrugs, leaning forward to inspect one of the textured spots on his face. "I thought you had a sense of adventure, Kennedy."

JFK frowns, suddenly feeling challenged. "I do! You're the one I was worried about."

The faucet runs again and Van Gogh steps out of the yellow-speckled bathroom, turning off the light and the fan behind him. "I can handle it."

Kennedy smiles despite himself. "Then. Let's. Go."

Van Gogh is standing so close to JFK now that he can smell the taller boy, and not only because he's wearing his sweater. "Fine by me."

Kennedy looks the boy up and down. "Put some real clothes on first."

"But wouldn't you be sad to give all this up?" He gestures to his bare legs.

JFK's eyes narrow. "I think you're stealing my brand, Gogh. There's only room for one notorious flirt in this relationship."

Kennedy brushes past Van Gogh to retrieve some day clothes from his suitcase, but Van Gogh is frozen still from his use of the word "relationship".

***

"No, I swear this is the way I came in," JFK says, slowing down the car and peering over Van Gogh's shoulder to see the map in his hands. The black circle around Marshtown seems thicker in the daylight. The circle seems more ovular.

"Yeah, but it was nighttime. And I know you weren't looking at the GPS. It's our first time here. Of course it looks different in the day," Van Gogh snaps, waving his hand in Kennedy's face so he'll look at the road.

Kennedy sighs. "Maybe this trip was a bad idea."

Van Gogh doesn't respond. A couple seconds pass, and he points to the statue. "There!" He exclaims.

Kennedy jumps at the sudden noise and the car swerves. His arms pump with adrenaline. "What?"

"That's the statue I was telling you about when we first drove in," he explains.

JFK glances at his passenger. "The one that's made to look like marble but is really just concrete?"

Van Gogh looks up at Kennedy, scrunching his noise and smiling pleasantly. "Yeah." He looks back out the windshield. "You remembered."

JFK opens his mouth to say something and Gogh turns to him in anticipation, but nothing comes out. He closes his mouth. Van Gogh looks away, an unfamiliar twinge of disappointment welling in his chest.

Kennedy shakes his head, like he's reentering reality. "Oh, I remember this now." They pass the gas station. There are still no cars and the convenience store has the "closed" sign in the window. The buzzing yellow lights are off. It somehow looks less welcoming in the day -- if it had ever looked welcoming in the night.

The red convertible glides through the intersection and they enter the highway, and just like that, they leave Blackbox behind them.

"What a silly name for a town," Van Gogh whispers, craning his neck to watch the welcome sign he hadn't noticed the night before fade farther and farther into the distance.

"It's fitting, is it not?" Kennedy replies, eyes glued to the empty highway. Still no cars in sight.

Van Gogh turns around to face the driver. "I guess. But who wants to live in a town called Blackbox?"

JFK shrugs. "Maybe they don't want people to live there."

"That girl totally looked like Joan."

"Who, the counter girl?"

Van Gogh nods. Kennedy can just barely sense the movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, she did. She was Joan but somehow... sadder," Kennedy agrees.

"I don't know if that's how I'd put it, but... off. Like an altered-reality version of Joan."

A few seconds go by. The car fills up with silence as the wind rushes by outside. Kennedy is in the far left lane, but the engine doesn't wail the way it usually does when he drives over the speed limit.

"All the houses looked the same," Van Gogh says after a minute.

"I hadn't noticed. I wasn't paying as much attention as you were." He turns to the boy. "You're fascinated by them."

Van Gogh nods without making eye contact.

"Why?"

Gogh shakes his head. A lock of traffic cone hair falls between his eyes. He angles his lips upward and blows. "It reminded me of Exclamation!."

"You hate Exclamation!," JFK replies, raising an eyebrow at his best friend.

Van Gogh looks up at JFK, his eyes swollen and sinking with innocence. "But this neighbourhood was pretty."

"I thought you didn't want things to be pretty."

"No, I just said pretty doesn't equal girly. And it doesn't."

The car falls silent again. Van Gogh unties and reties his Keds anxiously. He balls his fists up in the cuffs of Kennedy's -- his -- letterman jacket. He pulls his feet up onto the leather seat. He turns to JFK, waiting for the boy to scold him for getting his car dirty. He doesn't.

"I can feel you looking at me, Van Gogh."

"You're not gonna tell me to get my feet down?" He asks dubiously, a thread of concern roping itself into his voice.

Kennedy shrugs. "You're not most people. The bottoms of your shoes aren't caked in mud."

"How do you know that?" Van Gogh challenges.

"Because I've seen the way you take care of your possessions, Gogh. You don't get dirty like that."

If it had been anyone else, Van Gogh would've taken offence. He would've defended himself, read into their words to find an artificial threat. But it's Kennedy. He lets his guard down.

"You've... noticed that?"

Heat climbs up the back of JFK's neck. He clenches his jaw and keeps his vision fixed forward out the windshield.  "Sure."

Van Gogh opens his mouth to say something else, to venture further into the topic. Kennedy speaks instead.

"Are you hungry? We didn't eat breakfast and I doubt you ate dinner yesterday."

Van Gogh drops the conversation. "Sure. Hey, you know what would be fun?"

Kennedy grins in anticipation. "What would be fun?"

"Let's go to some shitty all-American diner. That's a perfect road tripping activity, right?"

JFK relaxes in his seat and lets his smile run free across his face. His lips part to reveal his mouth of perfectly white teeth. Van Gogh thinks he could be in a toothpaste ad. He always has.

"Look on that map. Did  Weird Joan circle any diners somehow shittier than Denny's?"

Van Gogh laughs, but he's not sure if it's at something the boy said or if he's just happy. "If Weird Joan is anything like the real Joan, she'd have no idea where to look for something like that."

"Oh, I beg to differ. Abe's all about shit like that. And you know Joan's so far up his ass she's practically in his throat."

Van Gogh slams his head back into his seat in laughter. The sound starts in his stomach, climbing up to his chest and exploding up his throat. It fills the whole car, and he slaps his hand over his mouth, embarrassed by the sound. JFK laughs too, and it's in unison rather than in solidarity. Van Gogh lets himself laugh again, admitting that sometimes, just sometimes, John F. Kennedy is rather funny.

***

JFK pulls into the parking lot of a clearly unloved diner, complete with graffitied windows and broken plastic signage. "This shitty enough for you?" He asks as he stops the car.

Van Gogh unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the vehicle. "Oh, yes, absolutely."

Kennedy smiles. "Good, because I'm pretty sure this is the only one we're going to be able to find for the next, like, four hours. Which is embarrassing. I can't believe we're on a road trip in America and we've only come across one unmapped town and some secret diner."

"Ooh, call it secret again. Like it's our diner or something."

Kennedy turns his head to look at Van Gogh, a silently affectionate expression painting his face. "It can be."

"It is."

Bells chime as JFK and Van Gogh push through the door. The air is stale and heavy with mildew, but the tables and floors are relatively clean.

"I'm surprised this place is still in business," Van Gogh whispers to JFK.

He stifles a laugh. The comment itself isn't inherently funny, but he's in a sunbeam mood.

"Sit anywhere," a hostess smiles at the boys. She has tan skin and wavy brunette hair -- Van Gogh is relieved that she doesn't look like anyone he knows.

"This booth okay?" JFK asks, leading Van Gogh to the corner farthest from the door.

Van Gogh slides into the cushy leather seat in affirmation. JFK sits down across from him. He plants one foot on the floor and bends his other knee, resting his calf across his other thigh. Van Gogh rests his elbows on the table and laces his fingers, cracking his knuckles and looking out the window so he doesn't have to stare at Kennedy. For once, he has nothing to say to the boy. They're still learning how to sit in unoccupied silence.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" A handsome young waiter asks. He can't be much older than the boys -- seventeen, eighteen at the oldest.

"Just some water," Van Gogh says, and JFK nods in agreement. The waiter smiles at them both, looking a bit over-eager.

"What time is it?" JFK asks.

Van Gogh glances at his watch. "10:19."

"What time did we wake up?"

Van Gogh shrugs. "Dunno. Probably around 8:00, 8:10."

The small talk is strangling. Kennedy holds his hands in his lap and plays with his fingers, tracing his nail beds and picking skin.

"You're a really good artist, Van Gogh," he says to his lap.

Gogh sits up straighter in his seat. His elbows retreat to his sides.

"You look like," JFK stops himself and sneaks a quick glimpse at the boy. "You look like your dad."

"Which one?" Van Gogh asks, speaking to his lap as well.

"Your clone father. The real Van Gogh."

Van Gogh's stomach does somersaults. A genuine compliment from Kennedy? Interlaced with no vanity or backhandedness? What's the catch?

"Thanks, um, that really means a lot," he smiles, the expression barely visible by the boy sitting opposite him.

"I mean, you look like a teenage version of him. I've never actually seen pictures of him as a teenager, but you have his bone structure. And, um, his intellectual and creative capacities."

Van Gogh looks up, his eyes collecting the fluorescence of the ceiling lights and throwing it back onto Kennedy.

"They did a good job with you."

"John," Van Gogh starts in a soft voice, and suddenly he doesn't remember what he was going to say. He clamps his mouth shut and his eyes widen, the quicksand thicker and trickier than ever before.

Kennedy's eyes widen as well, and his jaw drops.

"V--" he stops himself, not sure whether to address his best friend by first name or last name. It's been strictly last name basis since they were ten and Van Gogh's parents started dropping him off at the Kennedys', but suddenly, he can't remember why it started or why it stuck.

He doesn't have to make up his mind, because the saturatingly positive waiter sets the boys' glasses of water down in front of them.

"Ready to order?" He asks, flipping open his order book and clicking his pen in anticipation. The smile tugs at his muscles. Van Gogh wonders if it's stuck there.

Kennedy opens his mouth.

"We need a few more minutes," Van Gogh says instead, his voice small and drowned in phlegm.

[morethanaprincess-a]

@trinitytalents​ said: Ship Bias

Ship Bias (No longer accepting!)

(I got a little burned out on these so save for this and one other ask, I’ve decided to cap them. Sorry for the wait!)

I immediately had a theme for a ship bias ask when I received this one, so here we go - Ship Bias: Otome Edition.

I’m only including games I’ve personally played or watched playthroughs of. I’ve yet to play Café Enchante (Though I will soon!), Bad Apple Wars (Though I have this and haven’t played it yet) and a few others on Steam and Vita, and most mobile games outside of Mystic Messenger (because I hate the pay to play setup). 

I’ll split these up by game as it’s a bit easier to work through.

Code: Realize - I’ll go with my favorite otome ship for Sonia (that I’ve never actually written, sadly): Abraham van Helsing. And I only really could see it after I figured out how to work Sonia into the C:R universe that these two made a whole lot of sense. A princess with a country that has set an example of humans and vampires coexisting harmoniously visiting Britain, who’s trying to do just that? Bonus that she’s generally a cheerful sort in comparison to van Helsing’s general grumpiness, but a well-mannered lady all the same. They would desperately need someone to cook for them, though. My other favorite ship for Sonia in this verse is with Victor Frankenstein, because she’d be fascinated by his experiments and yet very kind and gentle to him.

Hakuoki - Or rather ‘how do you pick from so many love interests?’ Honestly, that’s a challenge for me because of just how many characters this series has (and how many feels, etc). But I could see Sonia getting on with some of the characters with more mature, subdued attitudes: Harada, Iba, Saito (I may be biased here because I have a thread going but it’s a very good thread!), Sannan, maybe Hijikata? I mostly just don’t see Sonia actually falling for the demon characters (surprisingly), or the likes of Toudou, Nagakura, or maybe Okita.

Collar x Malice - Kei Okazaki. Full stop. One, he gives me Nagito vibes in both the main game and the fandisc. Two, Sonia will enjoy his quirks, his general positive attitude, his obsession with strange food, and the fact he enjoys horror movies. These two would get along very well, bonus if he’s assigned as her guard for that trope I really happen to like.

Amnesia - It’s been awhile since I’ve played or replayed this, but possibly Kent? Animal death part of the story aside, Sonia would be intrigued by how dedicated he is to his studies and they’re both dumb enough not to know when they’re on an actual date. Bonus: they could meet in Tokyo or the UK. 

I’m not sure about the other characters, but probably not Touma. Sonia would not be okay with being treated the way the heroine was treated.

Diabolik Lovers - aka. trash vampires. Watching playthroughs of the games is way better than watching the anime. In any case, I’m already biased towards @sadisticbloodlxst​‘s Ruki Mukami. Sexual interests aside, these two are both leaders, enjoy novels, and come from aristocratic backgrounds and can likely understand some of each other’s stresses and concerns if they decide to open up to one another. My other DL ship weakness is with Reiji Sakamaki, a ship I barely touched the surface upon ages ago but would love to write with the right partner.

Because for a guy so obsessed with rules and etiquette, convinced he’s a better leader and heir than his older brother, and has no qualms telling off everyone else when they’re being inappropriate...try sassing an actual princess with etiquette lessons. He can’t nitpick at her for being unrefined: Sonia’s basically been raised to be poised and polite since birth. I imagine that would likely irritate him and so he’d have to find other ways to be particularly nasty towards her, which she tends to spurn with her general kindness and sunny, optimistic outlook. Not to mention her fascination with the supernatural, and vampires in particular.

I have a lot of unused headcanons for this ship. 

Piofiore - I guess Dante Falzone likely makes the most sense but I think Sonia would have more fun interacting with Gilbert Redford instead. She’d be very surprised, though rather impressed as well, that he’s forged a new family that isn’t as strict about requirements for membership, and he’d gladly take her around his area of town himself. As much as Sonia enjoys exploring new places, she’d be very much drawn to that friendly attitude.

Mystic Messenger - I don’t have a solid answer for this one, actually. I think it would be based on individual portrayals. It’s been awhile since I played the game and I didn’t play a lot of the updates beyond the initial release.